── .✦ (🥥) who would've thought that a late night tutoring sesson with the schools biggest nerd, soobin, turned into a night even more exciting. turns out, he has an even bigger surprise than his brain.
pairing: big dick virgin!soobin x fem!reader
word count: 4.8k
"content warning 18+ [ MDNI! ], switch!soobin, fem reader, big dick virgin!soobin, nerdy dirty talk, he researched ab sex, nerd!soobin, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding, creampie, aftercare”
you invited him over because you were failing math.
there wasn’t anything romantic or flirtatious about it at first — just a silent cry for help written in red marker across your test papers, the kind of desperate slope only someone like choi soobin could pull you from.
he was quiet in class, but always had the right answers. you’d never seen him speak above a whisper, never seen him look anyone in the eye for more than a second, and yet he always left the lecture room with perfectly annotated notes and the air of someone who carried his self-worth in decimal points and weighted averages.
so you messaged him one night — a simple, “can u tutor me?” — and he agreed with alarming speed.
showed up three days later at your apartment like a boy heading into battle, papers in one hand and a mechanical pencil tucked behind his ear, even though you weren’t going to a classroom.
he barely spoke as he stepped inside, his oversized hoodie swallowing his frame and his backpack clutched so tightly in his hand you worried the strap might snap.
“hi,” he said, voice soft, and then added, “i brought… some topic breakdowns. just what i thought would be most helpful.”
you took the stack of papers from him, letting your fingers brush his as you did — just enough to make him freeze.
“thanks, soobin. you’re a lifesaver.”
“it’s no problem,” he replied, though his voice cracked a little halfway through, and he cleared his throat like it embarrassed him.
he stood awkwardly in the middle of your room until you gestured toward the bed. “we can work there. my desk’s a mess right now.”
he nodded too quickly, walking over with that stiff, careful posture that always made him look like he didn’t know what to do with his limbs.
he perched on the very edge of the mattress, knees pressed together, bag in his lap like a shield.
you were already sprawled out beside him, legs crossed, chin in your hand, flipping lazily through the printouts he brought. he’d highlighted things in different colors — pink for formulas, green for common mistakes, blue for examples — and even used sticky tabs to mark each section.
you smiled a little. “damn. you really prepped for this, huh?”
“i didn’t want to waste your time,” he said, not meeting your eyes. “i mean, you’re busy. i figured i should… y’know. make it count.”
your gaze lingered on his profile for a second — the soft curve of his cheek, the glasses sliding slightly down his nose, the way his lashes caught the light like they didn’t belong on a boy. “you’re cute when you’re nervous,” you said.
his ears flushed pink immediately, and he opened his mouth to say something but couldn’t find the words.
instead, he ducked his head and pulled out a worksheet from his bag, mumbling something about “starting with derivatives.”
for a while, you worked. or at least, you tried to. he was focused, explaining things in his soft, careful voice, gesturing with a pen as he talked.
but the more you listened, the less you heard — your brain slowly replacing the numbers and variables with the warm hum of his voice, the gentle slope of his mouth, the way his fingers tapped the edge of the paper like he needed the rhythm to keep from spiraling.
you weren’t sure when it shifted.
maybe it was when he leaned in to correct your equation, his shoulder brushing yours, and didn’t pull away. maybe it was when your knees touched under the blankets, and neither of you moved. maybe it was the way the air felt heavier now — less like study session, more like waiting for something to happen.
soobin must’ve felt it too. his words started stumbling. he explained one formula three times and still got lost halfway through, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated.
his hand hovered a little too long when he passed you the pen. when your thighs pressed together again, he sucked in a breath and didn’t let it out for four seconds.
you turned slightly to face him, setting your notes aside. the room was quiet now.
just the soft tick of the wall clock and the low buzz of tension coiling between you like a wire being pulled tighter and tighter.
he was looking at your mouth.
you didn’t speak. neither did he. the moment didn’t need narration — it just hung there, charged, inevitable.
and then it snapped.
your lips met his like gravity had pulled them there — sudden, unspoken, too natural to be a mistake. his breath hitched immediately, eyes fluttering shut like a reflex.
he tasted like vanilla and nerves, soft and shaky against your mouth, and when your hand came up to cup his cheek, he made a sound, barely audible, like the beginning of a whimper, and leaned into it like he’d been waiting all night.
you deepened the kiss slowly, letting it unfold, letting him adjust. he responded with this aching softness, fumbling but eager, his fingers curling into the bedsheets like he didn’t trust himself to touch you yet.
he wasn’t practiced, his lips moved like he was still learning. but he kissed you like he meant it. like he felt it.
you pulled back just slightly, breath tangled with his, your foreheads nearly touching.
his eyes stayed shut and he swallowed hard. “is this okay?” he whispered.
you nodded, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek. “mmhm.”
he opened his eyes then, wide and vulnerable, and you could feel how hard he was trying to stay calm. how the tension in his shoulders hadn’t fully left. like he was waiting for the next step but terrified to ask for it.
but you didn’t rush. you just leaned in again, slower this time, and kissed him like there was nothing else you wanted to do tonight.
and this time, he kissed you back like he believed it.
but the kiss had unraveled something in both him and you.
he was still leaning into you like he hadn’t realized it was over, lips parted, breath catching at the edges, glasses slightly fogged from how close you’d been. you could see the color bleeding up his neck in slow-motion, creeping past his collar like his whole body was flushing from the inside out. he looked dazed. pink. utterly stunned.
you wondered, for a moment, if he’d ever been touched like this before.
but then he blinked, slow and heavy, and something in him cracked open.
he kissed you again, unsure, but full of need. like he’d been holding it back for too long. his hand twitched, then moved up — resting on your waist like he was afraid he’d break something, fingers brushing the hem of your shirt.
you climbed into his lap without thinking. not rushed. not performative. just a natural shift, a quiet surrender to gravity and tension and everything that had been simmering between you all evening.
he made a noise, sharp and startled when your weight settled on him, and his hands flew to your hips like instinct.
you could feel him underneath you already, half-hard and growing fast, and the realization sent a low throb through your stomach.
“fuck,” he whispered before he could stop himself.
you stilled. “hm?”
he looked horrified. “n-no, i mean— i wasn’t— that wasn’t—”
you tilted your head, amusement curling at your lips. “you okay, soobin?”
his throat bobbed. he didn’t answer. just stared at you like you were something holy and terrifying.
then, voice barely a whisper: “i’ve never done this before.”
you blinked. “like… never?”
he shook his head. “n-no. not even close.”
you felt your expression soften, and you leaned in to kiss him again, gentler this time. “you want to stop?”
he hesitated — not with fear, but with something more fragile. like he was trying to trust himself to speak.
“…no. i want to—” he paused, breath shaky. “i want to. just— it’s my first time, not my first time… knowing.”
you blinked again and chuckled slightly. “what?”
he turned bright red. “i… studied.”
you stared.
he flailed. “not in a weird way! i just— i didn’t want to be bad at it. s-so i read stuff. books. forums. diagrams— i even watched videos sometimes but only for like— like educational purposes—”
you blinked again. slowly. “…so you watched porn. like, for science.”
“i wanted to take notes,” he said, sounding genuinely defensive.
you laughed. couldn’t help it. he looked so earnest about it — like he’d genuinely sat down with a browser tab open and a pen in his hand, analyzing thrust angles.
“you’re unreal,” you said softly.
“i just didn’t want to disappoint anyone,” he mumbled, eyes downcast.
you reached down and took his hand, guiding it under your shirt. he froze, mouth open slightly, and his fingertips trembled against the skin of your waist.
“you won’t,” you promised. “you’re already not.”
his breath hitched. he looked up at you like you’d just rewritten the rules of the universe.
you started to grind your hips, slowly, experimentally — not enough to overwhelm, just enough for friction.
just enough for your shorts to tug against his sweats and for the growing heat between you to become unmistakable.
and god, he was big.
you could feel it — not in a vague, flattering way, but in a real, holy-shit-how-are-you-expected-to-fit-inside-me way.
every roll of your hips brought him further into focus, your body reacting before your brain could even catch up. he was so hard already, twitching beneath you, and he hadn’t even touched you properly yet.
“s–shit,” he gasped, eyebrows scrunched. “this— this isn’t in the articles—”
you snorted. “what, grinding?”
“n-no— i mean— yes, but not— not like this—”
you kissed him again, harder this time, swallowing the way his voice caught in his throat. your hands pushed his hoodie up slowly, palms skimming over warm skin, and he shivered when you reached his chest.
he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. like every second of contact was tripping a wire in his system.
you whispered against his lips, “you’re gonna let me ride you, right?”
his eyes rolled back so fast it was almost funny. “god— y-yeah. anything. anything you want.”
you reached between you, slipping your hand under his waistband — and what you found made your breath stutter.
he was thick. heavy. the kind of size that made your thighs clench just imagining it. no wonder he’d studied. no wonder he was scared.
you looked at him, slightly stunned. “jesus christ, soobin.”
he blinked, confused. “w-what? is it— is it weird? i read that some people have curve—”
you cut him off with a kiss, messy and open-mouthed, and his hands clutched at your waist like he was trying not to fall off the earth.
“it’s big,” you muttered. “like… really fucking big.”
he made a sound you couldn’t describe — somewhere between a choke and a moan.
you stripped slow, teasing, sliding your shirt off and watching his eyes widen as more skin revealed itself.
he stared like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to look. like he wanted to memorize it but felt guilty for trying.
you helped him out of his clothes next, pulling his hoodie over his head and tugging his sweats down far enough for him to spring free.
he gasped when the air hit him. flushed deep pink from tip to base. twitching slightly in time with his heartbeat.
and yeah. huge.
he tried to say something, but it came out garbled. you didn’t let him speak — just kissed him again, sweeter this time, pressing your body against his until he was whining into your mouth.
“lie back,” you whispered, and he did.
you climbed on top of him slowly, positioning yourself, and when the tip nudged against you, both of you gasped.
you took your time, letting him feel every inch of you — the stretch, the slide, the warmth — and his jaw dropped like it was all short-circuiting him.
“ohmygod,” he moaned, hands flying to your thighs. “ohmygod, it’s so warm— it’s— fuck—”
you bottomed out and paused, letting him breathe. he was gripping you like he was afraid he’d float away, eyes glassy, hips twitching up just barely.
“you okay?” you whispered, brushing his sweaty hair from his face.
he nodded, but he looked wrecked already.
“i-it’s so much,” he choked out. “i d-didn’t think it’d feel this good— i thought— i thought i’d last longer—”
you started moving, and he whimpered.
“oh— oh fuck—” he cried, head falling back against the pillow. “you’re s-so— it’s too good— oh god— i’m gonna— i’m—”
you weren’t even bouncing yet. just rolling your hips, slow and deep, letting his cock drag against every inch of your walls. his eyes fluttered, his chest heaved, and he let out a sound that didn’t even sound human.
“such a good boy,” you whispered, to which he moaned in response. the prettiest noises leaving his mouth as you praised him.
he couldn’t stop shaking underneath you. soobin was all heat and trembling muscle, wide eyes flickering open only to shut again in dazed desperation.
his chest heaved with every shallow breath, slick with sweat, lips parted in a silent plea as your hips rolled down again — slow, deliberate, like you were memorizing the way he stretched you open.
his hands had settled at your waist, not gripping, not guiding — just holding, fingers splayed across your skin like he didn’t want to forget the shape of you. like he wasn’t sure this was real.
every time your cunt dragged down his cock, his stomach fluttered, tightening like a wire being wound tighter and tighter with no end in sight.
he was deep. impossibly so. every inch of him filled you, pressed inside with this perfect fullness that made your vision blur. the curve of his cock nudged something devastating with each movement, and yet the stretch never dulled — not even as your walls grew slicker, your legs trembling from the slow pace.
you rode him with patience. not because you needed to go slow — but because he looked so wrecked.
his eyes glassy, his thighs twitching, mouth caught in a half-moan that never made it out. his expression was nothing short of reverent. overwhelmed. ruined.
you leaned over him, skin sliding against his as your hands braced at either side of his chest. the shift made your angle deeper, pulled a broken sound from his throat that made your core throb.
he tried to lift his hips, just a little, just to chase the feeling, but he couldn’t get the rhythm right, too stunned, too overstimulated, too caught up in the sheer reality of you.
the head of his cock dragged against your walls again, and your mouth fell open with a gasp — because he filled every inch, every curve, as if he was shaped for you alone. he was pulsing inside you already, and you hadn’t even given him permission to move yet.
his hands twitched, your body ached for more, and so you let him.
you shifted, just barely — lifting your hips until only the thick head remained inside you, holding there for a breathless second, watching his jaw slacken as if he’d lost something vital — and then you dropped down again, full weight, taking him all the way in one smooth thrust.
his back arched.
the sound that broke from him was nothing short of guttural — low and soft and strangled at the edges, like he didn’t know what to do with the sensation.
“mmh, i-it… it feels so good… don’t stop… please”
his fingers finally tightened on your hips, not hard, just grounding — and you felt him thrust up.
it was shaky. clumsy. but the strength behind it was unmistakable. he met your next roll with a sharp buck of his hips, and it landed deep, sudden, deliciously raw. your breath caught. his face contorted, eyes fluttering closed, lips trembling.
he did it again. and again.
beneath you, soobin moved like he didn’t even know he could. the soft whimpering boy who’d watched porn for research was gone — replaced by something unfiltered, frantic.
he thrust up into you with so much need, so much pure instinct, that you nearly collapsed against his chest.
he was so warm. so deep. every time you sank back down on his cock, it filled you to the hilt. every motion sending waves of heat through your spine, your stomach, your lungs.
you clenched around him without meaning to — too full, too sensitive — and he gasped like he’d been punched, arms tightening around your waist. he sounded like he was breaking. like it was too much.
you rolled your hips down hard, once, and he cried out.
not loud. not dramatic. just this fragile, broken sob of pleasure that slipped out past gritted teeth as he tried to keep fucking you through it. tried to keep his pace even as his body started failing him.
he was close. you could feel it. his whole body trembling beneath you, stomach fluttering, cock twitching deep inside like he was aching to let go.
“w-wait… im gonna cum… p-please… don’t stop…”you ground down harder, deeper, faster — and he fell apart.
his hips jolted once, then twice, then lost all rhythm. his cock pulsed violently inside you, and then you felt it — thick, hot, the warmth of him spilling into you as his body seized and shuddered.
he buried his face in your neck, arms clinging to you like a lifeline, thighs shaking uncontrollably beneath yours as he came.
every pulse of his cock pushed his cum deeper, filled you more, the mess gathering between your thighs like he couldn’t help it.
his breath hitched, his mouth opened against your skin, and then the tiniest sob escaped — cracked and soft and overwhelmed.
he was crying again.
you held him through it, rocking your hips just slightly to ease him through the aftershocks. he twitched inside you, whimpering, helpless beneath the weight of it all. his hands gripped you like you’d disappear.
his cock throbbed inside you, overstimulated and soaked in your slick, and he just kept whimpering.
you pulled back to look at him.
his eyes were glassy, unfocused. his cheeks damp. he looked like he’d been cracked open from the inside out.
you leaned in and kissed his forehead, then his cheek, then finally his lips — soft and slow, grounding him.
his voice was barely there. “i— i didn’t mean to—”
you shushed him. “you did perfect.”
his lashes fluttered. his arms loosened. his body finally relaxed beneath you, sinking into the mattress, flushed and tear-streaked and filled to the brim.
he looked at you again, and you held his cheek. “you wanna go again?” you said, brushing your thumb across his face, catching a tear that fell earlier.
he nodded slowly, and he was still inside you when he started to move again.
his cock hadn’t even softened fully—still thick, still flushed a deep pink at the base, still twitching inside you from the overstimulation, but now he was shifting, testing, thinking through the daze. and that was the moment you knew, he wasn’t done.
his breath still caught every time your walls clenched, but he was moving—hips subtly lifting, grinding into you in soft, sticky rolls. the cum from his first release had made everything slick, slippery, messy—your thighs wet, your inner walls coated.
he was still nestled so deep you could feel him twitch against your cervix, and when he pulled back a few inches, a broken gasp slipped from your lips.
he froze, like he didn’t expect that sound. you felt his hands tighten at your waist.
“…i wanna try something,” he whispered.
before you could ask, he pulled out with a soft squelch, and you both moaned at the loss. but he didn’t waste time—didn’t even stop to overthink it—he just reached for you and flipped you, slow but firm, until your cheek was pressed against the pillow and your back arched, hips raised just enough.
you turned to glance over your shoulder, heart thudding.
soobin was flushed all the way down to his chest, hair stuck to his forehead, lips pink and parted—but his eyes had sharpened. still soft. still shy. but there was something new there now.
something focused.
his hand settled on your lower back, then drifted down to your ass, squeezing once like he was testing a theory. when he spoke again, his voice was low. almost dazed. “theoretically… this angle should stimulate the anterior wall more consistently.”
you blinked.
“…are you quoting a textbook right now?”
he pushed back in without warning—one slow, gliding thrust, his cock stretching you open again with a wet slide—and you choked on your own breath.
the stretch burned now, fucked-out and sore, but god, he felt so full. the second his hips pressed flush to yours, you felt your arms go weak.
“yeah,” he whispered. “i read about this. from the back, hips raised… it’s supposed to— oh fuck—”
he started moving before he could finish the sentence.
his thrusts were deeper this time. not rough, not fast—intentional. heavy. every motion angled slightly upward, every roll of his hips hitting that same devastating spot, over and over again.
you realized—somewhere between gasping into the sheets and gripping the pillowcase like it might save you—that he meant to do that.
“feels… right?” he panted, voice breathless. “am i… hitting it right?”
you couldn’t speak. could barely even moan. your body was melting around him, dripping slick and cum with every push, your mind already fraying at the edges from how deep he was.
his cock dragged against your walls with obscene precision—too precise, like he was adjusting his angle mid-thrust to line up with your reactions.
every time your thighs trembled, he leaned in further. every time you gasped, he whispered a frantic, “there—like that?” and did it again.
“fuck,” you managed, voice hoarse. “you— god, you feel so fucking good—”
he moaned behind you, and then his fingers curled around your hips to pull you back onto him harder.
the pace stuttered for a moment, but when he found it again, it was relentless. sloppier now, louder. the wet slap of skin on skin filled the room, each thrust jostling you further up the bed.
“read once,” he gasped, “that the g-spot’s like… five centimeters in… angled toward the belly button—f-fuck, wait—”
he adjusted again, slightly upward, and this time you cried out, legs buckling beneath you.
“there,” he whispered. “t-there it is. fuck.”
your entire body clenched. he felt it, gasped again, and leaned over you. now his chest was against your back, his breath warm and fast against your ear, hips still pistoning into you as he pressed you down with the weight of his body.
“you’re so—tight,” he breathed. “s-so warm— i can’t— i c-can’t stop—”
you weren’t stopping him.
your brain had shut off halfway through his nerdy monologue, somewhere between “g-spot location” and “angle of friction”. all you knew now was the way his cock dragged against your walls, the obscene squelch of your mixed arousal leaking down your thighs, the sound of his voice trembling as he kept going, even as his rhythm began to falter.
you could feel him close again. his thrusts started to stutter—less controlled, more desperate.
every breath came out choked. his grip on your hips turned vice-like, and his weight pressed you harder into the mattress.
“g-gonna cum again,” he whimpered, voice cracking. “inside, please, i can’t— i want— fuck, please—”
you let him. you even tightened around him on purpose. and that broke him.
his hips slammed forward one final time—deep and hard, burying himself to the hilt—and then he snapped, groaning into your shoulder as he came again, harder this time.
hot and messy, cock twitching wildly as his cum spilled out in thick spurts, dripping back down your thighs with every shudder.
he didn’t move for a long moment. just panted against your neck, body trembling, arms around you like a blanket.
still buried deep, still twitching from the aftershocks, still too full of sensation to pull out.
you were shaking too. used. sore. stuffed.
he kissed the back of your shoulder, then your spine. slow, reverent.
“…did i do good?” he asked softly, voice hoarse and breathless.
you turned your head enough to look at him.
he was flushed. swollen. smiling—barely.
you cupped his cheek, pulled him down into a kiss, and let him melt into you again.
you didn’t move for a while.
your body felt… gelatinous. boneless. like you’d been poured out, reshaped, and forgotten on warm sheets.
your thighs were trembling, too slick to close properly, your breath still shallow as you stared blankly at the headboard, brain empty except for the faint memory of being absolutely ruined.
and behind you—still pressed close, still inside—you could feel him twitching softly. Soobin’s arm was curled around your waist, his forehead damp against your shoulder, and his chest rose and fell in uneven waves as he tried to catch his breath.
“…i think i broke you,” he whispered.
his voice was so soft, so tentative, that you let out a shaky laugh despite yourself.
“maybe just… a little,” you mumbled, voice hoarse.
he didn’t respond right away. just let out a breath that was almost a whimper, and very slowly, he pulled out.
the sound was obscene—wet and slow and too much. his cum spilled out in thick, creamy rivulets, already smeared down your inner thighs, soaking the backs of your legs and your sheets.
he groaned under his breath the second he saw it, like even looking was too much for his nervous system to handle.
“oh my god,” he said, eyes wide. “i—fuck, i didn’t mean to—there’s just—so much—”
you flopped onto your back with a wince and watched him sit up on shaky legs, completely naked, flushed red from head to toe, hair a mess. his dick was still red and slightly twitching, glistening at the tip from whatever hadn’t managed to stay inside you.
he scrambled for his hoodie, dragging it on clumsily and then half-tripping as he grabbed his backpack off the floor.
“d-don’t move,” he babbled. “i’ve got—uh—one sec—”
you blinked. “soobin… what are you doing.”
he held up a pack of wet wipes.
“…why do you have those?” you asked.
he looked mortified. “i-it’s for glasses! and, um. keyboard dust.”
but he was already kneeling between your legs, gingerly nudging them apart with the back of his hand.
his face flushed impossibly deeper at the sight—your swollen folds, the sheer amount of cum, the fact that he put it there.
you watched his throat bob as he took a breath and started cleaning you.
gently, carefully.
he touched you like you might break, using slow, soothing strokes, barely applying pressure.
when the wipe brushed over your entrance and another trail of cum spilled out, he made a tiny noise in his throat and mumbled, “oh my god—i’m so sorry—”
you couldn’t stop smiling, too wrecked to be shy, too full of affection to care. “you’re apologizing for fucking me now?”
“i-i just—i should’ve warned you. or slowed down. or—” he paused, looking deeply concerned, “—maybe done a few more warmup exercises—”
you reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping the endless spiral of his thoughts. “soobin.”
he froze. eyes wide.
“you were perfect.”
he blinked, like you’d just told him he aced an exam he forgot to study for.
“…r-really?”
“really.” you tugged him closer. “come here.”
he climbed onto the bed clumsily and wrapped his arms around you.
you let your head rest on his shoulder, body melting into the warmth of him as his fingertips gently traced circles over your spine.
he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. then your cheek. then, with shaky hesitation, to your lips.
“…you feel okay?” he murmured against your mouth.
“sore,” you admitted. “but in a good way.”
his ears went pink. “i didn’t think it’d… i mean, you were so tight, and i thought—i mean, i calculated it before, but actually being inside—”
you laughed again, too tired to tease him. “soobin.”
he looked at you, dazed and flushed and in love with you, probably.
you kissed him again.
and this time, he smiled against your lips. soft. warm. nerdy.
“…can i write about this in my notes?” he asked suddenly, like he couldn’t help it.
There are loves that blossom silently, and there are loves that consume. Love chose him as its sole vessel the moment you stepped into his still life and made it breathe. Because you were not merely the person he loved.
You were the garden and the grave where Soobin would bury himself. Willingly, ardently, and without return.
⊹₊⟡⋆ 21k
pairing: florist!choi soobin x fem!reader
tags: florist au, friends to lover, slice of life, mild slow burn if you squint, mutual pining, simp!soobin, portrayal of feelings through flowers, lots of yearning, mild jealousy because why not, somehow even became a sick fic, SOOBIN WEARS GLASSES! [probably missed some]
[MDNI] smut warning: explicit sexual content, munch!soobin, oral (f.), fingering, tummy bulge, subspace (but it's soobin being pussy drunk), cumming in pants, pathetic!dom!soobin, spit as lube, praise kink if you squint, multiple orgasms, missionary, unprotected sex (not huzzah!), creampie (please don't) [definitely missed some]
so umm. somehow it became 21k. NOW IN MY DEFENSE—IT WAS GOING VERY WELL UNTIL I STARTED THE SMUT! i might have went extremely overboard with it guys it was an out of body experience. but hey on the bright side, you have 3k words worth smut of soobin being pathetic! it's a win, right? *laughs nervously* alright jokes aside, i hope you enjoy reading this story as much as i enjoyed writing it <33
Reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!
There was a jar of lemon candies near the cash register that no one ever touched, except for you. He kept refilling it anyway. Once, you’d told him that sour things make you feel awake. He didn’t like lemon candy, never has — but now the shop feels incomplete without that bright little jar amidst the plethora of greens.
Soobin liked being a florist. He loved flowers more. Perhaps it was because the shop stopped feeling like a shop and rather a person to him. It woke up with him every morning, breathed with the breeze when he slid the door open, and hummed softly when he watered the hanging plants. He worked there most days, except for Tuesdays, when his employee took over so he could attend his classes. For the remaining days of the week, Soobin arranged his schedule meticulously so that he could finish his classes early in the morning and put his entire focus on flowers. The arrangement’s practical, he liked to believe.
The shop sat below his apartment, which is really just one big room pretending to be three. His uncle handed it to him when he moved here for university, saying, “It’s old but it’ll love you back if you take care of it.” Perhaps that’s what got him thinking about flowers in the first place.
Why flowers, specifically? — because the most romantic thing about flowers is that they could say what people couldn't. Flowers, to him, are translators. They turn the things people mean into color and shape, into scent and softness. He liked to imagine that every arrangement he made carried a small story.
He didn’t always know what it was, but he liked guessing — a confession with roses, an apology wrapped around white lilies, and carnations carrying gratitude for the loved ones. He took joy in translating those feelings and that’s what drew him in; the thought that he’s helping people say things they can’t always phrase. He liked that flowers never lie. They just bloom, fade, and start again. In their short lives, they manage to say everything worth saying.
In the middle of tending to a new shipment of red gerberas, Soobin blinked back into focus when your distant laugh drifted inside. Realizing he’d been standing still for a while with a pair of shears in hand, staring at nothing in particular, he clipped the stem he was holding.
There was a quaint nursery at the back of the shop. Once an unremarkable yard attached to his uncle’s apartment now repurposed into rows of neatly aligned pots and every colour of flowers one could imagine. You were there, showing the elderly couple around and explaining differences between varieties with the knowledge you got from Soobin after months of hanging around. They were regulars, always appearing on Sundays, and they’d long decided they preferred you over him when it came to choosing plants though you didn’t even work there.
He liked the friendly company you brought, as he liked to tell himself, but each time he looked through the windowpane to catch you smiling — that conviction thinned. You looked impossibly beautiful standing there among the green, pointing something out to the old woman who was nodding along with delight. There was dirt on your fingertips, probably your sleeves too, but you were radiant nonetheless.
The sight made him feel a strange tug somewhere in his chest, which was funny, because it resembled what one would call envy. Soobin was envious that sunlight got to touch you first.
When you led the couple back inside, he quickly turned his gaze to the counter, focusing on trimming the stems before the flowers lost too much moisture. Your voice was honey to him, your presence the sun.
“Soobin, they’re thinking about keeping some plants in their kitchen. They want to know which ones will last.” You placed two small tubs of chrysanthemums in front of him, their leaves still wet from misting.
The old man gave a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as if the admission embarrassed him. “My wife says the kitchen looks too plain without a bit of life.”
“I told him,” the old woman interrupted fondly, “that if we’re going to cook every day, we might as well have something nice to look at while we’re doing it.”
Soobin smiled, leaning forward to inspect the tubs. “You could try pothos,” he said after a moment. “They don’t need much light, and they’ll forgive you even if you forget them for a few days. Basil too, if you want something useful. It grows better near a window, though.”
The old woman’s eyes brightened. “Basil sounds lovely. I could use it for our soups.”
“Soup!” You chirped when you came back from washing your dirt smeared hands. “Oh, Mrs. Park, I need to know how your soup tastes.”
The couple laughed at that, the sound pulling Soobin’s attention as he stole a glance at you with a smile of his own. “I will make sure to give you kids some the next time we come by!” she promised.
“Then it’s settled,” you said warmly, turning back to Soobin. “You won’t regret getting the basil. Everything grown and cared for by Soobin in this shop is full of love.”
The wife smiled, cheeks crinkling. “You’re as sweet as these flowers, dear.”
Sweeter than any of them, Soobin thought. Prettier too.
He wordlessly passed you a towel and you took it with a murmured thanks while he went back to arranging the couple’s purchase. As he packed, the woman’s gaze caught on the gerberas beside him.
“Those are lovely,” she said, eyes softening at the red bloom. “It’s been years since I’ve seen them this bright.”
You followed her gaze. “They really are, aren’t they?” you said, tapping your finger lightly against the counter. “Maybe you should take a few stems home too. They’ll add some color to your living room.”
“They would,” the husband agreed, already pulling his wallet from his coat. “Let’s take a few.”
There was this magic in you. Some people didn’t need flowers to speak for them — their presence was already poetry, their laughter already a language. You were one of them. And you were his exact opposite. Soobin, who could shape meaning through petals and stems but stumbled when it came to words, was terrified of letting his thoughts spill unchecked from his heart to his mouth, terrified that they might reach you and ruin the ephemeral beauty of what already existed between you. So he relied on flowers, always.
He held up a single red gerbera between his thumb and index finger. His eyes drifted to where you stood beside the elderly couple, now showing them the tulips on display. The flower symbolizes a passionate and profound declaration of love, representing a love that filled every part of the soul until it became difficult to breathe. It made him wonder what it would feel like to hand the bouquet to you instead, to let the flower say what he couldn’t. The idea itself was enough to trip his pulse.
The old couple soon gathered their plants and bouquet as they bid farewell to you both. Gerberas suited them — he thought as he watched them leave — still vibrant after all these years, their love so full of life. A love like that, he hoped, was not beyond him. A love like that, he wanted to be capable of giving and also worthy of receiving.
That want, that wish of his didn’t seem to be so far off because his brain came to a comforting pause when the same words were spoken out loud, by you.
“Arent they wonderful?” you sighed dreamily, watching the couple disappear down the street. “I hope a love like theirs finds me.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” he murmured, arranging the leftover stems. “You’re very lovable. People tend to love you without needing to be asked.”
You blinked, caught off guard for half a second before recovering with a teasing smile. “Do they, now?”
He nodded, still not looking up, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “Even Mr. and Mrs. Park. They barely let me talk to them anymore.”
You gasped softly in realization and snapped your fingers. “Right! They never ask for your help, do they?” You leaned in across the counter and it took everything in Soobin not to fold right there. “Watch out, Soobin. At this rate, I might just learn enough to open my own shop across the street. Then what will you do?”
Soobin chuckled, dimples deepening as he pushed his glasses up with the back of his wrist. “I’ll have a scary competitor then.”
You giggled, amused by the thought. “You think I’m scary?”
He narrowed his eyes just enough that the look read more fond than fierce, and then, by a measure that felt modest because he was taller, he bent at the waist until his face aligned with yours. He leaned forward the barest fraction.
“Terrifying.”
He whispered the words with a cheeky squint of his eyes and let his gaze find yours with a small, almost solemn smile. For a fleeting second, Soobin allowed himself the luxury of memorizing you up close as you burst out into a fit of laughter.
Time flew in a strange way on Sundays. It stretched and folded in ways that defied reason. With you in the shop, time seemed to slow just inside that shared space surrounded by flowers for him. Nothing more than your mere presence, not even the brilliance of the fresh floras and their honeyed fragrance, could make him feel alive. Yet at the same time, the hours slipped from his grasp because it is never enough. The day always ended too soon, and every time you reached for your bag Soobin found himself wishing for just one more hour with you. One more exchange that he could replay in the stillness of his mind when night fell.
He never asked, of course. Love, to him, was a quiet thing — a bloom meant to be nurtured, not confessed too soon. So he contented himself with the gentle ache you left behind until you came by the next day to heal him.
When you finally left that evening, he tucked a single red gerbera stem into your bag, wrapped in paper the colour he knew you adored.
MONDAYS were rather boring.
Everything was as it always was, except it wasn’t. It was the only day when your schedule didn't align with his, meaning, when Soobin’s classes ended and he began his shift, yours started. Even in a place overflowing with color and life, with beauty and extravagance, your presence was what always made life vibrant in his eyes. Without you, everything paled inside the shop. Even the new batch of flowers he’d receive for the day refused to liven up as if they were waiting for you to show up and breathe life into them. Soobin was like the flowers.
He missed you more than he could justify. To the point he’d foolishly perk up — like a bunny perking up in the gentlest alarm, as you’d like to call him — whenever the shop door’s bell jingled. Every time, he flt like a part of him slowly died whenever he’d see it wasn't you but rather a customer.
On such days, Soobin felt like a machine serving its purpose. Greet the customers, tend to the flowers, make arrangements and repeat. To be fair, the monotony used to comfort him once. Two years ago, that had been his entire life. It used to be only him and the flowers, and sometimes his part-time employee taking turns behind the counter so he could balance his studies and tutoring. That changed when you became friends with him.
Soobin couldn’t remember when or how it began but he really enjoyed it when you started showing up in his humble shop like this. You expressed genuine interest when he first told you about his little business, and he couldn't forget the look on your face when he first took you to the shop. No flower could rival the raw look of enrapture you had on you. You started coming by more often — at first to talk, then to help, then simply to exist there. You loved flowers as much as he did. So there was no reason for him to stop you from showing up.
He doubted he could ever ask you to stop showing up. Frankly, it’s something he always looked forward to because you manage to bring comfort with you. You had a way of making the space feel lived in; of making him feel seen. So now your absence, even if for one day, felt tortuous to Soobin.
Whenever his employee Jisoo showed up, Soobin would manage the shop together with him. The lunch brought by Jisoo was shared between the two of them. Some days, Soobin would almost hear your phantom nagging at him for never learning how to cook. On others, when Jisoo happened to bring the dishes you loved, Soobin would simply stare at them for a moment too long, thinking of how you’d probably hum with satisfaction after the first bite, your expression glowing with unguarded joy that made his heart ache in the most tender way.
On such a monday, after Jisoo left finishing his shift, Soobin brewed himself a cup of tea as he put on some song in the background. Leaning against the counter he took a sip of his tea and stared out of the window. Outside, a pair of children ran past, their laughter echoed down the path. Soobin’s gaze drifted toward the doorway. The space looked too still without your movement.
The only movement that tugged on the edges of his thoughts was the gentle sway of the daffodils by the breeze that came from the open nursery door. The bright yellow flowers beckoned him to caress them.
Daffodils, known for their ability to emerge after the darkness of winter symbolizes hope and the promise of better times, alongside joy and happiness. He wondered, as he gently brushed his across one of the petals, if in another life or in some other universe entirely — these daffodils were growing inside his chest, their roots weaving through his lungs, their golden blooms stealing his breath. Perhaps that was why his heart ached this way every time he thought of you. He decided he wouldn’t mind suffocating, not if it meant the air that left him was filled with your name.
Love had made its home in him long ago. Flowers of love bloomed in his chest, threatening to slip out of him whenever he looked at you which he disguised as breathless laughters, as words, as the ineffable fondness that ran through his veins at your mere existence.
Another chime from the bell. Again, he looked up. Again, it wasn’t you.
He hated Mondays for how long they felt, for how they made the absence of you stretch into hours he could count by the way the sunlight changed. Still, there was a strange comfort in missing you. It meant you existed somewhere beyond these walls, and tomorrow, when the bell chimed again, it might really be you.
Until then, he had the flowers. He had the scent of the daffodils. He had the echo of your voice stored in memory. And for a boy like Soobin who loved through petals and silence, that was sufficient to keep breathing through the slow, pale hours of Monday.
From morning lectures to late afternoon tutoring, Soobin’s hours always blurred into a monotony of words and fatigue on Tuesdays. Other than that, these days were simply to say, pretty uneventful.
But it was such a TUESDAY that reminded him that even ordinary days could bloom.
Soft morning light pooled across the courtyard benches where Soobin sat with Taehyun and Kai. The three of them huddled together as they discussed writing their reports, but it was mostly them and not Soobin who engaged in the conversation. Soobin found his attention drifting to the faint rustle of leaves above them.
Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw you waving. You appeared in a rush of sunlight and apologetic smiles, which made him sit up straighter. He almost did the foolish act of fumbling to catch his heart because it skipped a beat so hard, Soobin truly felt like it was about to leap out of his ribcage.
“Soobin!” You called, already halfway to them. You were visibly out of breath but why was it him who felt breathless? The way your eyes caught the sunlight made it impossible for him to look anywhere else. “I don’t have time to stay—I’m already late for my lecture—but here.” You held out a paper bag toward him. “Don’t skip lunch, okay? I’ll see you later!”
Before he could say much beyond a thank you,you were already stepping back, waving to the other two. “Bye, guys!” — and running off toward the building.
For a second, everything surrounding him seemed to still in the wake of your absence. He opened the bag, saw the croissant sandwich wrapped in neat folds and a water bottle nestled beside it. You were his friend, yes, what you were doing was nothing more than just a friend looking out for another. You’d always been thoughtful, always been a loving and caring person. Still, he couldn’t stop feeling warm by this small act of care because you knew Tuesdays were hectic for him and went out of your way to make sure he gained the energy to push through.
Kai’s malicious groan disturbed his sweet bubble of thoughts. “Must be nice having someone like that,” the younger said, gesturing lazily at the bag. “You’re lucky, man. I’d kill for a lunch delivery mid-day and— ow!”
It was Taehyun who smacked the back of Kai’s head to hush him, signalling him with a single stare that translated ‘read the room’. The two then turned to Soobin who still looked lost in his head, glasses slightly dropping down his nose by the way his head was tilted downward.
Taehyun softly cleared his throat, trying to mask his question as friendly as possible. “Are you two together?”
Soobin flinched. He could have said no, a neat dismissal that left nothing to broker between them. Instead he found himself saying, “We’re just friends.” The phrase came out tasting bitter and wrong on his tongue, betraying him with a half-second’s hesitation between just and friends that suggested how the truth refused to fit into any box.
“Ah,” Taehyun said simply, leaning back in his chair. “Alright.”
Kai, rubbing the back of his head, tried to reclaim the moment, about to offer some light commentary that would have widened the circle of awkwardness, but Taehyun’s small, admonishing look cut him off. There was nothing for Soobin to explain anyway, or maybe there was too much.
By evening, the exhaustion sat heavy in his bones. Lecture after lecture had chipped away at him until all that remained was a dull ache behind his eyes. He had texted you out of habit in the afternoon between class breaks.
Not feeling very uplifted today.
He hadn’t meant for it to sound like a plea. Your reply came almost instantly.
I understand. I’ll be around if you need anything. Don’t push yourself too hard.
Typical of you — never intrusive, always there in the way only you could be. He appreciated it, but the distance between you remained, as it always had.
After finishing his last tutoring session of the day, he walked down the nearly deserted hallway. He hadn’t thought about you much during the time he spent wallowing in stress and fatigue. But when he turned the corner toward the elevator, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.
There, just outside the elevator, sitting on one of the chairs by the wall, was you.
For a moment, he simply stood there, the dull exhaustion inside him replaced by something wordless and vast. You looked up, and when your eyes met his, a small smile, tired yet radiant at the same, bloomed across your face.
What are you doing here? — was all he could think, though words deserted him for a few more seconds after approaching you.
“You’re still here?” he managed. “Your class ended hours ago.”
You stood stretching slightly, your smile widening just a fraction. “Figured you’d need someone to walk home with.”
He blinked, dazed, as if the meaning of your words had to travel through too many walls before it reached him. “Didn’t you have somewhere to go?” he asked, trying to reason.
“No,” you replied simply, “I wanted to make sure you weren’t walking home alone.”
His pulse thrummed with an inexplicable ache that felt too alive for his exhausted body. It wasn’t like you to wait around this long, especially when you could be using this time to focus on anything better. Anything or anyone better than him. But you had waited for him because of a single text.
He didn’t know what he had done to be worthy of your patience, nor did he know how to articulate the reverence that rose in him now, the fierce, aching wish to deserve it. He wondered whether his heart could bear much more of you before it gave itself away entirely.
“Oh? Um. Thank you,” he murmured, the words far too meager for all he wanted to say.
The elevator chimed. You gestured toward it with a small nod, and he followed, still unsure if his gratitude was delivered to you properly. You leaned back against the wall, and let out a sigh that relaxed your posture. He took his place against the opposite wall. Now, with the distance of the day collapsing between you he noticed the weariness clinging to you which he had missed when he first saw you sitting outside. He still couldn’t fathom the fact that you waited for him, all because he expressed feeling a little blue.
“Did you eat everything?” Your voice was soothing and gentle that in his overflowing love fueled headspace, he almost felt like he could fall asleep listening to you. “The croissant—was it alright?”
“It was better than alright,” he, too, spoke in a low tone to match your cadence. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I opened the bag.”
You smiled, eyes meeting his for the briefest second before drifting toward the faintly glowing floor indicator. “I knew you needed it. I know how hard you work all the time.”
He felt a drowsy calm settle over him. If either of you noticed the way his eyes were locked onto you after your admission, neither you nor he made a comment about it. He wanted to take your tiredness and scatter it away, to cup your face and let his gratitude pour through his touch just as a way to give back, to make you feel the way you made him feel. The impulse to kiss you was so overwhelming that it startled him though not because it was new, but because it had never been this close to breaking through. His hands twitched at his sides, every instinct begging to bridge the distance, yet reason kept him still.
Nevertheless, what he felt for you had already outgrown the safety of words. It was already too alive, too consuming, blooming inside him like a garden that asked only to be watered by you.
When the elevator doors opened, the spell broke. Soobin turned his head, meaning to speak, to say thank you again in a way that might capture what you had done for him but the words withered again before they could take shape.
If love could be measured by waiting, then you had just rewritten every definition he knew.
By the railing near the exit, a row of potted forget-me-nots watched in blue silence, as though they, too, understood what it meant to wait and to be remembered.
If affection could take form, Soobin learned that WEDNESDAYS could be its sunlight.
When he orders for a shipment, it is mostly on Wednesdays that the new batch of fresh floras arrive. It wasn’t necessarily a constant occurrence, but it had happened often, which is why Soobin liked to keep important shop related agendas particularly on this day.
Two weeks later on a Wednesday. Soobin stood behind the counter with sleeves rolled above his forearms, a clipboard in hand, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he ticked off names and numbers. The bell jingled — and of course instinctively he looked up — smiling brightly with his dimples deepening at the sight of you.
“Hey,” you greeted him with a cheerful smile.
He reached for the glass jar beside the register, fished out a lemon candy, and rolled it across the counter toward you.
“Morning,” he greeted, his smile softening. “You’re here earlier than usual.”
“Prof was feeling generous today, I suppose. She ended the class early so I came as soon as I could,” you replied, picking up the candy. The lemon filled your mouth with a tangy sting, a small burst of summer. Behind him, Jisoo was sorting tulips with exaggerated concentration, pretending not to eavesdrop. You waved at him anyway, earning a sheepish smile before he ducked his head.
“Everything arrived fine?” you asked, glancing toward the mountain of crates by the window.
Soobin followed your gaze, pushed his glasses higher, and exhaled as though only now realizing how much work still lay ahead. “More or less. The supplier mixed up a few labels again—I might have accidentally ordered twice the usual number of sunflowers.”
“Accidentally?” you repeated, your brows arching in suspicion.
He met your look with one of his own — a small smile of oops before setting the clipboard down. “Maybe not entirely. Actually,” he began, pausing because he wanted to choose his words with care, “do you have plans for the day?”
“Nope,” you said at once. “Why? Planning to put me to work again?”
“Something like that,” he said, straightening a small stack of receipts only to set them down again. Soobin felt a tender warmth in his chest as you stared at him expectantly. “How would you feel about coming with me to the sunflower farm? I need to sort out the delivery issue in person. Could use the company.”
The candy nearly slipped from your tongue. “A sunflower farm?” you echoed, disbelief giving way to delight. “You’re asking me to go to a sunflower farm?”
“Unless you have something better to do,” he teased lightly, though his hand still brushed the edge of the counter with a nervous anticipation.
You shook your head far too quickly. “Even if I did, I’d cancel it immediately. Who in their right mind would say no to a sunflower field?”
You said those words so earnestly that Soobin couldn’t stop the bright laugh from escaping him. He hadn’t meant to react so openly, yet your enthusiasm had a way of undoing his restraint piece by piece until all that remained was this foolish, giddy pulse under his ribs that refused to calm down.
“You’re right, no one in their right mind should say no to that,” he humored you, adjusting his glasses to mask the giddiness still threatening to spread. “Give me around ten minutes and we’ll go, yeah?”
You saluted him playfully before turning toward the doorway. Behind you, his voice followed, threaded with an affection he didn’t bother to hide. “And grab a hat—it gets hot out there. Jisoo will show you where we keep them.”
He didn’t really need to solve the delivery issue in person — he could’ve just sent an e-mail clarification and been done with it. But Soobin, being Soobin, saw the outing as a chance to “deepen professional ties.” That was how he phrased it in his head at least. Both work-wise and, well… you-wise.
He told you it was for work, and he told himself that too. And technically, it was true. He was going for work. But what his mind could justify, his heart refused to understand. His heart had long stopped behaving like something he could reason with. It thrashed and pleaded, spinning songs out of nothing whenever you were near and lured out all the thoughts he’d buried in the farthest corners of his head. It told him things his reason wouldn’t dare put into words. Things like asking you to accompany him to a sunflower farm was the equivalent of asking you on a date. Scratch that, it wasn’t really a date because, again, work. Except his heart couldn’t care less.
If sunflowers yearned toward the sun, then his heart tilted helplessly toward you. You had your fingerprints all over his heart, left on his thoughts, his gestures, the smallest habits he could no longer call his own. You touched him without touching him, and he felt it deep in his bones.
By the time they arrived at the sunflower farm, the late afternoon light had turned syrup-thick, golden and drowsy, coating everything it touched. It took less than half an hour for him to settle the shipment issue which he was most thankful for because it meant he could spend more time with you looking around. He carried the paperwork in one hand checking the state of the flowers as they walked, though his mind was far from logistics.
You walked a few steps ahead, the hem of your shirt catching in the breeze and sunlight glancing off your hair as you did. Every few seconds, you’d turn back to point something out with a smile — a stretch of wildflowers, a crooked fence post and each time you did, he felt that same small collapse inside him, the one that whispered he could spend a lifetime looking at you and still not feel full.
He wanted to reach for your hand. God, how badly he wanted to. It wasn’t even about the touch — it was about what it meant. It was to feel your pulse beneath his thumb, to know that the warmth in his chest had somewhere to belong. But do friends hold hands like that? With the kind of longing that burned holes through reason and plagued his senses?
Soobin noticed a patch of young sunflowers and bent before them, one knee pressed into the dirt, eyes tracing the fragile stems swaying in the mild breeze. His fingers brushed the soil with care, tracing the tender line of roots that had begun to weave through the earth. The ground was still warm from the afternoon sun, faintly damp against his skin.
You came to stand beside him, your shadow falling across the flowers. “Are these newly planted?” you asked, crouching a little to match his height.
He nodded, flicking a bit of soil from his fingers. “Mm. A few weeks old, maybe.”
You tilted your head, smiling at the shy blossoms. Then you glanced at him with a grin that glowed warmer than the light itself. “How pretty.”
Though you meant the flowers, the words seemed to settle somewhere deep in him. He didn’t dare look up. He could still feel you there, your presence bright beside him. The weather’s heat was a little tacky but your warmth felt heavenly. Then, all at once, your weight beside him vanished.
“Soobin,” you called sweetly from somewhere behind him.
He looked up and was met with a sprinkle of cold droplets landing across his cheek. He blinked, a startled laugh escaping him. You stood a few steps away with the watering can in both hands, trying to hide your grin.
“Oops,” you said lightly. “Got confused for a second—which one was the real flower.”
“Oh my god.” He raised his brows, disbelief flickering across his face. “You’re not usually the type for corny lines.”
“What can I do when you’re so pretty?”
That made him stop. The laugh died halfway through his throat, dissolving into a soundless exhale. You said it so easily, without any awareness of what it did to him and maybe that was what made it worse, that you could wound him so sweetly without even knowing.
He rose to his feet, slow enough to steady himself. Reaching for the watering can, he caught your wrist gently before he dipped his hand into the water. When he lifted it again, droplets slid between his knuckles, catching sunlight as he flicked them in your direction.
You gasped, a small sound that made his stomach twist, your lashes catching stray drops.
“Guess I’ll have to water you too,” he said, tapping his wet fingers once against your cheek, eyes dipping for a second too long. “You look parched.”
And the moment they left his mouth, his heart raced in his throat. He could almost feel the words replaying in his own head. What are you doing? What are you saying? His mind scrambled to fix what his mouth had already done. He hastily drew his hand back.
You seemed to still for a moment before wiping your face with the back of your hand, eyes narrowing playfully. “It’s flattering to know you think I’m pretty, Soobin.”
He hesitated — a heartbeat too long — before forcing a grin and patting your head. “I think you need water to grow taller,” he countered steadily though his pulse was anything but.
“Wow,” you said flatly, dragging out the word. “How rude.”
Soobin had to look away and laugh, which sounded way too nervous to be called one. He tugged at the top button of his shirt before it came undone and a low exhale slipped past his lips. He was already in some sort of trance. Maybe the sun had found its way into his bloodstream, making him reckless enough to muddle reasons. Because blaming his erratic need to lose control in front of you on the sun was easier than to admit he was truly losing it.
One moment you were standing in front of him then the next you moved in front of a bigger batch up ahead. "You really shouldn’t be talking about height here," you said, pointing to a sunflower that swayed slightly in the breeze. "That one’s taller than you. In fact, most of them are towering above you."
Soobin, caught in the moment, let his traitorous heart take control and began humoring you. “Is that so?” He moved beside the flower. It towered impressively, yes, but the top of his head passed the blossom by only a few centimeters. His shoulders straightened with faint defiance as he glanced down at you, half a smirk playing on his lips. "Seems I still win."
You squinted up at him. "Don’t cheat by standing on your toes," you teased, reaching out to tug lightly at his sleeve.
The sunlight spilled across your face in such a way that made you look otherworldly. He was already far too gone in the trance put on him by the magic of you, and right at that moment, Soobin forgot how to stand. He forgot the line between reason and impulse (nothing to be surprised of), between what he should do and what he wanted.
He leaned down before he could stop himself, close enough for his shadow to blur with yours on the road. “Is it better this way?” he murmured.
It was a mistake. He knew it the moment his voice reached your ears, when your laughter stilled and your eyes flicked up to meet his, wide and startled and so alive that his breath trembled. How easily he could close that last distance between you and him. How impossible it truly was.
Then his senses caught up to him all at once. He straightened abruptly, hand flying to the bridge of his glasses — his oldest defense — adjusting them even though they hadn’t slipped. It gave him a moment, just one, to hide behind the pretense of composure. His jaw clenched faintly as he looked away.
But even as he stared forward, he could feel your gaze on him — the soft burn of it trailing along the curve of his neck, tracing the space he had left between you. He didn’t dare look at you. If he did, you’d see everything he’d been hiding, everything that now pulsed under his skin like fever.
“Do you—” he paused, clearing his throat as the words got caught, “do you want to take pictures? Before the sun goes down.” he sounded a little too careful but it did what he needed it to — it changed the air.
You glanced toward the horizon, where the light had begun to mellow into amber. “That’s a good idea,” you said after a beat. “You can take photos for the catalog too—the blooms look perfect today.”
He nodded, grateful for the excuse. Grateful to have something to do with his hands. He unzipped the canvas bag slung across his shoulder and pulled out the small, cream-colored Polaroid camera — a gift from you months ago, when you’d told him to capture memories before they faded. He took his time to capture everything he deemed beautiful but every few seconds, his gaze flickered to where you stood among the taller sunflowers, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear which kept swaying by the breeze.
He raised the camera again, this time framing you against the wide sky.
When the film slid out, he watched it develop in his hand, the color slowly blooming into form. You tilted your head, watching him. “That’s not for the catalog,” you remarked with a gentle smile.
He met your gaze then. It was only for a second but enough to betray himself. He still wanted to indulge a little.
“No,” he admitted softly, “this one’s for me.” As well as be honest a little.
You let out a soft chuckle. Taking a few steps closer, you reached for the camera.
“Then this one—” you said, holding it toward him, “—is mine.”
He blinked, almost unmoored, before breaking into a helpless smile that could only exist when you were around. Hiwever, it was genuine.
As the photograph emerged, you held it by its edge beside the one he’d taken. Two fragments of the same light, caught forever in the same field of gold.
The metro was far more crowded than it had any right to be at that hour. Soobin stood near the door, one hand around the pole, the other hovering just behind your shoulder to keep anyone from bumping into you. You looked uneasy, shoulders drawn in, trying your best to fold into yourself without seeming rude.
Soobin knew you never liked standing amidst people in a densely populated place. He should’ve known better than to suggest the metro. And though it wasn’t entirely his fault, the sight of you pressing into the corner made his chest twist in guilt. So, without thinking much, he reached out and guided you gently by the elbow until you were tucked between him and the wall.
You fit there perfectly, shielded from the crowd completely by the breadth of his frame. You blinked up at him, a little startled. He looked down, suddenly aware of the closeness. His hand dropped back to his side almost immediately, flexing.
“Sorry,” he spoke in a hush tone. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable here.”
You shook your head with a smile, the corners of your eyes folding with quiet affection. “Dont be sorry. I appreciate you for always looking out for me, Soobin.”
He exhaled a soft laugh that came out more self-deprecating. “I’m not doing a great job right now. This was my bright idea, remember? Now you’re stuck here because of me.”
Your reply came with a small huff but still smiled. “I’m doing just fine. You're worrying too much.”
That shut him up in the gentlest way possible. You leaned your head back against the cool metal wall, eyelids fluttering shut. The sway of the carriage rocked your frame ever so slightly which seemed to lull you into a momentary calm. The tension in your shoulders eased little by little, and Soobin felt like he could rest assured now, eyes drifting to the reflection of the lights skimming across the glass.
The train lurched forward again and Soobin instinctively braced his hand on the wall beside your head to steady himself — and you. He was acutely aware of how close you were, of how the space between seemed to shrink with every passing second.
He debated whether to speak, to ask if you were all right just npw, but the question felt redundant. So instead, his free hand stayed close to yours, fingers twitching with the faintest restraint, close enough to offer balance if another sudden jolt came, but not near enough to betray the thought behind it.
Soobin didn’t like how your head was softly but repeatedly bumping against the wall with the vibration of the carriage. He at once balanced his hand on the handrail attached to the pole and the wall beside him, and angled his body in such a way that separated you completely from the crowd.
“Lean on me,” he said, with a faint trace of hesitation, almost shy.
Your eyes fluttered open, drowsy and questioning. “What?”
“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he reasoned though his heart was thudding in his chest. “Might as well be comfortable.”
You laughed under your breath, the sound sleepy. “What if your arm starts to cramp?”
He shook his head once, smiling faintly. Your protests fell deaf to his ears when the least he could do right now was to offer you even the slightest form of comfort. Even if it meant at the cost of his own.
“It won’t,” he simply stated. “I don’t mind.”
You studied him for a second longer before giving in. Slowly, tentatively, you tilted your head until it found its place against the crook of his arm. The weight was light but real, it was you and your warmth, and it sent a quiet tremor through him that he tried to swallow down. The realization that you trusted him enough to rest there so freely did wonders to his feelings.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
“Mhm,” you hummed, content. A few beats later, in a mellow tone, you added, “I had a really good time today.”
Soobin couldn’t help — and didn’t really fight — the glow of fondness from showing in his face. From anyone else’s eyes, the sight might have looked like a simple, affectionate tableau between lovers. But to him, it felt like standing on the edge of a dream he could neither step into nor wake from. The thought of being yours, even in some alternate world, felt cruel in its sweetness. It filled him and hollowed him out all at once like a heart beating for what it could never hold.
The vision of you as his lingered even when he dropped you off at your home. When you stopped in front of your door, he did too, his hands deep in his pockets, trying to mask the restlessness running through him. You waited for a few moments, causing him to question if everything was alright.
You didn’t use words. You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.
Soobin’s body went rigid before his instinct — no, longing — took over, and his hands found their way out of his pockets, hovering uncertainly. You fit so perfectly against him that it almost hurt. He prayed you couldn’t hear the chaotic thrum of his heartbeat. He was feeling so exposed, so bare in your embrace. After what felt like eons, he steadied himself before returning the embrace.
“What’s this? Are you missing the sunflowers already?” He joked despite feeling like he was on cloud nine.
It earned him a soft scoff from you before you mumbled a ‘oh, shut up.’ He wanted to breathe in your scent but he didn’t dare. Because if he did, it wouldn’t just be longing anymore. It would be surrender.
With your head still resting on his chest, you said with a smile, “Thank you for today, Soobin.”
It was the gentlest of words and yet it split him open cleanly without mercy. He felt, absurdly, as though the gods had reached into his chest and taken his heart between their hands, just to remind him what it meant to feel alive. You should never have to thank him. Being with you was never something that demanded gratitude.
When you pulled away, it was almost too much. He managed a smile, steadying his voice though it trembled at the edges. “Of course,” he said, meaning every word like a vow. “Anything for you.”
You lingered for a heartbeat longer before stepping inside. Soobin remained where he was, hands back in his pockets, watching as the door closed and the warm light spilled into the dusk for one final moment.
He felt like he could mimic a sunflower just fine.
Who knew that his love could deepen so irrevocably on an ordinary Wednesday?
There was a stem sitting in a chipped vase by the window. Once, it held a bloom — a pale carnation he’d forgotten to include in a bouquet he sold. Now it drooped, half-leaning toward the glass as though yearning for the outside light. He should throw it away, he thought, but didn’t. Instead, he watered it every morning, knowing it will never stand upright again.
Soobin never dreaded THURSDAYS until they became the most sorrowful day of the week.
The reason wasn’t because you stopped coming (that would have been easier to bear, he thought) but because you started bringing someone with you. A friend, who looked way too close to you than to Soobin’s liking.
His name was Choi Beomgyu.
When you first brought him over, Soobin’s smile faltered in the smallest way, mimicking a petal folding in on itself before falling. You’d introduced him brightly, and Beomgyu had offered a handshake and a grin that reached his eyes. He complimented the shop, the flowers, and the careful order of the bouquets but Soobin found himself unable to match his tone. Normally, such praise would have filled him with pride; after all, he loved his flowers and he loved it even more when others saw their worth and the effort he put behind his shop. But this time, every kind word felt like a stone dropped into his chest, until he could no longer tell whether it was jealousy or shame that weighed more.
Out of habit, Soobin reached for the jar near the counter to fish out a lemon candy, the way he always did whenever you came by. But as he was about to offer it to you, this Choi Beomgyu guy went, “Woah, lemon candy? I love those! Mind if I take one?”
And without waiting for an answer, he plucked one straight from the jar — your jar — and tore the wrapper open with his teeth, tossing the candy into his mouth. Soobin could only stare at the audacity, the scene unfolding before him like an intrusion into a world he thought was private. You laughed softly beside him, eyes bright as you turned to Beomgyu and said how glad you were to find someone else who liked lemon candies just as much as you did.
Soobin had a dozen things to say to you. He had stories to share, small and ordinary things of the mundane, and most importantly, you were supposed to talk his ears off as he worked. But with Beomgyu there, every thought dissolved on his tongue before he could speak it, melting away like the candy itself — leaving behind a bitter aftertaste he couldn’t swallow.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen you this giddy before, this radiant joy that came when you walked in every Thursday now with Beomgyu trailing behind as you show Beomgyu around, repeating the flower meanings Soobin himself had taught you. Maybe it was because when you explained how yellow carnations meant rejection and disappointment, you were unaware of how the words sat cruelly poetic in his chest. Maybe it was because on Thursdays, you two sat side by side, working through your assignments while Soobin watered stems that no longer needed tending.
It was ridiculous, he knew; you were right there, just a few feet away, but each passing moment made it feel like he was watching from behind glass, separated by a barrier invisible yet impenetrable.
He didn’t expect jealousy to feel like this smoldering ache that crawled up from his ribs, until even breathing felt like torment. So he looked away from where you sat with Beomgyu and fixed his eyes instead on the vase in front of him — a vase full of yellow carnations — and wished the water would somehow saturate the burning ache within him.
Even if he had you to himself for the rest of the week, this single Thursday without you felt like an emptiness that could not be reasoned with.
By the fourth Thursday, Beomgyu had somehow folded himself into the routine. The first few times, Soobin told himself it was temporary, that your friend would grow bored of tagging along to a flower shop but no. It wasn’t even surprising anymore to hear his voice before yours. Soobin was going to need a while to get used to it.
Soobin had tried, for a time, to dislike him on principle. But Beomgyu was unfairly difficult to hate because in all honesty he was a really nice guy. Even Jisoo liked him — especially Jisoo, which only made Soobin’s quiet resentment feel more childish. His morals acted up quickly and Soobin started to feel ashamed for even trying to villanize that poor dude.
Sometimes, at lunch, the four of them ate together. Jisoo would bring pasta or kimbap, Beomgyu would start talking about anything and could turn a dull story into something worth listening to. And you would laugh until your eyes disappeared into crescents. It should’ve been a pleasant routine — it was pleasant — but to Soobin, every laugh sounded like a reminder that the world was far too eager to share you. As stupid as it sounded, but oftentimes, it made Soobin feel like an intruder in his own shop.
On such a Thursday, they gathered around the small table full of disposable boxes, eating lunch and chatting. It wasn’t like Soobin wasn’t participating; he was. With everyone, just to be clear. Even Beomgyu, who for some reason had taken an immense liking to him, declaring him an honorary holder of the “platinum bro code card” and insisting they were now bound by friendship. Said friendship was in the stage where it was mostly Beomgyu landing actual good jokes. And to his inner horror, Soobin actually took them — found himself laughing along, responding, even joking back.
Amid the easy back-and-forth, Soobin’s gaze landed on you for the briefest moment, and his breath caught at the sight of you smiling softly — at him — like you were proud of something he’d said or done without realizing. The sight scattered his composure so he averted his eyes too quickly and, to cover the moment, picked up a forkful of pasta from Beomgyu’s box and shoved it straight into the other’s mouth. Beomgyu squawked through a laugh, nearly choking, while you laughed behind your hand.
By the time the food had dwindled to scraps, Jisoo was the first to excuse himself to check on the nursery. Beomgyu started helping with the clean-up, handing Soobin the empty boxes, and the three of you continued to talk about everything and nothing — university projects, the upcoming rain, some movie Beomgyu insisted you both needed to see.
Soobin stood up from his chair with the boxes when he noticed a smear of sauce at the corner of your lips. He looked around for some tissue to grab but his mind went static when he heard Beomgyu talk.
“Hey, you’ve got—wait, here,” Beomgyu said, pointing at his own mouth, laughing. “You’ve got something right there—”
That — that imagination of Choi Beomgyu wiping sauce off your lips, right in front of him as he watched it happen, was immensely and totally wrong on many levels. It didn’t sit right with him. He would be one of the biggest fools to walk on earth if he allowed it to happen.
Soobin had already grabbed your chin before Beomgyu could even lift one finger. His knuckles curled beneath your chin, guiding your face toward him before tilting your face up to look at him. Soobin’s eyes were unreadable when he gently wiped the smudge of sauce from the corner of your lips with his thumb — when he brought that thumb to his mouth and licked it clean.
If someone dropped a pin at that moment, the sound would resonate through the entire place.
Without a word, Soobin walked away toward the sink at the back of the shop. He dumped the boxes into the bin, pressed both hands to the edge of the sink with his head bowed and exhaled hard.
He couldn’t explain what possessed him. His pulse was loud in his ears, his thoughts a mess of disbelief and heat. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, trying to erase the phantom feeling of your skin beneath his thumb. Your lips were so soft. Fuck.
It shouldn’t have felt that good. It shouldn’t have felt like anything at all.
He stood there in disbelief realizing how much he wanted to feel it again.
Behind him came the sound of you choking slightly on your next bite of pasta, Beomgyu’s startled voice asking if you were all right followed by the scrape of a chair. Soobin shut his eyes and cursed under his breath, feeling the heat crawl up his neck.
Despite feeling like his entire body was on fire, Soobin’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk forming before he exhaled and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.
He couldn’t believe he’d done that. But God, it felt good.
It was a Thursday like any other. Except this time, when the bell above the door chimed, it wasn’t you who entered. It was Beomgyu, and he was alone.
His mind needed an extra beat to process that the space beside Beomgyu was empty. Soobin’s first thought was something’s happened to you. He hastily checked his phone to see if he missed any texts or calls from you, but there was none.
His focus was momentarily pulled away from you by Beomgyu’s greeting. Soobin, still thrown, returned it with a polite nod while fixing his glasses. But the question pressed insistently behind his composure — what was he doing here, and alone of all things? He never came without you.
“You can wait in the shop until she comes over. It should be another hour or so.” His hand was already moving toward the small fridge at the corner. “Want anything to drink? I’ve got—uh, iced tea. Coffee, too, if you’d rather—”
A low chuckle interrupted him, stopping him mid-step. “Oh, no.” Beomgyu shook his head. “I’m not here for her. Well—technically, I am.” Then, after a pause that sounded too intentional to make Soobin turn, Beomgyu added with a grin, “But not in the way you think.”
Soobin frowned faintly. “I would appreciate it if you could elaborate on that, Beomgyu.”
Beomgyu didn’t answer right away; he drummed his fingers against the counter, gaze sweeping across the room as if admiring the shop. “I wanted a bouquet made.”
The words, on their own, were harmless. Soobin had heard them countless times before. Yet, paired with the conversation’s earlier turn, they carried a strange undercurrent that made his chest constrict. Still, he defaulted to familiarity, grasping at professionalism. “That can be done,” he said, pulling the small catalogue closer and flipping it open to the section on mixed arrangements. “Any idea what kind of flowers you’re thinking?”
“All her favourites.”
The catalogue stilled between his fingers. It took a moment for the words to truly register, and when they did, Soobin felt devastation sinking in his chest. He looked at Beomgyu hastily, mortified. “What?” he blurted out without schooling his tone.
Beomgyu gave a small shrug, his hands slipping into his pockets as if this entire conversation weren’t splitting Soobin open from the inside out. “You know her favourites better than anyone,” Beomgyu said lightly, like that explained everything. “So, really, asking you just made sense.” Then, he tilted his head slightly, that same grin curving into a sly smirk. “I’m thinking of asking her out.”
For a brief, excruciating second, his entire world swayed. Everything around him dissipated until all that remained was white noise that rested upon his eyelids. All he could hear was that sentence repeating itself over and over in the confines of his skull. I’m thinking of asking her out.
“She’s not—” The rest of the sentence collapsed, leaving the words half-born and useless. You weren’t his to defend, and yet, how could he stop the instinct? You were the unreachable star he loved from afar because he thought loving you silently was the only way to keep you safe from his inadequacy and the cruelest part was that it had been entirely his choice. But now, hearing Beomgyu say those words aloud — words that should have belonged to him if he weren’t so terrified of deserving you — was like standing at the edge of a cliff.
“She’s what?” Beomgyu pressed. He straightened, his expression open but his eyes glinting. “What’s stopping me? Unless—” He let his voice trail off, pretending to think, before leaning his elbows on the counter with an exaggerated look of realization. “Unless you’ve got a problem with it.”
Soobin’s fingers curled against his palms until his nails bit into skin. He had no claim, no right — you were not his, not an object to be guarded or possessed but every fibre of him still burned with the injustice of it. Because his heart always refused to obey what his mind already knew.
“You had your chance,” Beomgyu leaned closer, his voice dipping into a quiet, almost friendly murmur. “You didn’t take it. So tell me, Soobin—why shouldn’t I?”
A terrible and hollow realization dawned upon Soobin that he was standing on the edge of that same invisible cliff again, staring into an expanse where only your name existed, carried faintly by the wind. The room had gone still again; Beomgyu’s words still echoed in the air, but vaguely now. It was almost like Soobin had lost grip on reality.
His love for you had always been immense, alive and untamed, too large for the body that tried to hold it. But what if it wasn’t enough? What if Beomgyu could give you something more deserving than the silent devotion of a man who couldn’t even say the words out loud?
He loved you — so much, so fervently, so ardently — that sometimes he feared his heart might tear itself apart from the strain of it. His love spilled through the cracks of him, too much to hold in his cupped hands. It drenched every part of him, soaked through every thought, and yet he could never seem to give it shape. He was a florist, and perhaps that was why his love had always been wordless. He loved in petals and stems, in silent acts of care hoping you’d somehow see his heart in the language of flowers.
But that was never enough, was it?
He wasn’t a poet, and he was barely a lover. Just a man hopelessly in love, drowning in devotion he could neither voice nor abandon.
When he spoke, his voice sounded unfamiliar to his own ears. “Just—give me a moment,” he murmured to Beomgyu, in almost the same voice he used with customers. “I’ll start on your bouquet right away.”
He turned toward the rows of flowers. Blooms in every shade of tenderness and grief — and he stood there for a long time without moving. Part of him thought, absurdly, that he could be cruel. That he could choose the wrong flowers, something mismatched, something unworthy of you, and hand it to Beomgyu. It would’ve been easy — so heartbreakingly easy — to let pettiness bloom where love had once been.
But his hands wouldn’t listen. Even now, even when his chest ached like an open wound, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He could not arrange a bouquet meant for you with the wrong flowers. He could not betray his love by staining it with spite.
So his hands reach for the stems with memory, with love. He picked the soft pink roses first — the only shade of rose you adored — and paired them with tiny clusters of baby’s breath, white and blush-pink, your favourite of them all. A few sprigs of lavender followed, delicate and faintly fragrant, the scent you always said reminded you of calm. He filled the spaces with greens to make the bouquet feel whole. When it came to wrapping, he didn’t even hesitate to choose a transparent paper, you loved it because it let the colours breathe.
He tied it all together with a thin white satin ribbon, hands steady despite the tremor beneath his skin. By the time he was done, his heart stopped thrashing but there was still a small, sad smile on his lips. When he slid the bouquet across the counter, his voice was distant.
“It’s done.”
Beomgyu looked at the arrangement, eyes scanning the blooms before smiling almost kindly. “Ah,” he sighed, eyes still on the roses. “These are her favourites, huh? Figures. You really do know her best.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few bills and placed them neatly on the counter — but before Soobin could reach for them, Beomgyu nudged the bouquet back across the counter. “Keep the bouquet.”
Soobin’s head lifted, his brow creasing faintly. “Stop the crap, Beomgyu, why would I—”
“You really are hopeless,” Beomgyu muttered, clicking his tongue. Over the counter he jabbed a finger at Soobin’s chest looking him dead in the eye. “You think she doesn’t notice the way you look at her? Take it, before I change my mind.” Beomgyu straightened with an exasperated sigh before softly, like an afterthought, added, “You make it too easy to feel sorry for you, hyung.”
Soobin did not get a chance to ask for an explanation because Beomgyu was already half out the door, then paused with a thoughtful glance over his shoulder. “But I’ll still ask her out,” he said easily. “Because I don’t like losing, or stepping back from a challenge.”
With that, he was gone.
Soobin stood there in the silence that followed. His eyes lingered on the bouquet that still rested on the counter, petals trembling faintly in the draft that came from the open door.
Somewhere behind him, from the vase crowded with yellow carnations, a single bloom loosened from its stem and fell soundlessly onto the shelf below.
It was the first time Soobin ever kept the shop closed on a FRIDAY.
He stood in the university courtyard, eyes vacant and upturned to the sky as the first drops of rain slid through his hair and seeped into his collar. Yesterday’s encounter with Beomgyu left him grappling with his haywired emotions and then, a few hours later, your text came.
soobiiiin im sorry i cant come by today :((
That simple line added insult to injury. It felt like confirmation of every fear that had been gnawing at him since he saw Beomgyu. He imagined the two of you walking home together under a sky that should’ve been his to share with you. Soobin had spent the rest of that Thursday staring at the same page of the shop ledger, pen idle in his hand, unable to make sense of numbers or words.
Now, as he came out from his early morning class and stood under the dismal sky, it was as if the sky too understood the depth of his grief and let down its showers in hopes of washing some of it away. He should have looked for shelter but he lingered instead, watching the way water gathered in the cracks between cobblestones, how it carried fallen petals and bits of paper into small streams.
It was, admittedly, not a wise decision to walk home in it. By midday, his throat burned with every swallow, and his nose prickled from the chill. The fever was faint then — a warning he ignored. It became by afternoon, one of the reasons he had to keep the shop closed. When Jisoo offered to take over for the day, Soobin refused, insisting on locking up entirely and sending him home.
Isolating himself when he was at his lowest was one of Soobin’s many flaws. Despite granting him the space to think, it did nothing to help the fact that he was sick and most of his consciousness had now become a slave to drowsiness. Paired with heartbreak, Soobin was not in the right state of mind to be greeting customers with a smile in a place full of beauty that only reminded him of you.
Had he known you before this? In some other life, were you someone he had loved and lost over and over again? Because none of this made sense. This ache didn’t belong to the present — it felt older, as though it had lived in him long before he ever met you. How long had he been without you to feel this way now?
The fever came and went, mostly in the evenings, leaving him weaker each time it ebbed. One moment he was shivering under the blanket, and the next, heat licked through his skin until even breathing hurt. On the bedside table sat a half-empty glass of water and a few crumpled tissues, a tableau of his own negligence. The medicine packet lay open, though he couldn’t remember if he had taken the next dose or not. His head throbbed too much to care.
He lay sprawled on the bed, hair damp against the pillow. His throat scraped with every swallow, raw from hours of coughing. He’d given up on sitting upright hours ago — even lifting his head felt like work.
Through the blur of half-sleep, he caught sight of the camellias on his balcony swaying in the wind. Their petals were bright even under the grey sky. He stared until the colors melted into the haze of his fever. You liked camellias. He wondered if you were with Beomgyu. The idea soured his stomach and before he realized it, his eyes were watering. He sniffled, pressed the back of his hand to his nose and turned over, trying to will himself into sleep.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep before through the haze, he thought he heard his name. Hallucinating, he decided dimly. Fever dreams, that’s all. But the sound came again, clearer now, closer, and when his eyelids fluttered open, the blur at the edge of his vision focused into… you?
What were you doing here?
You were standing in the doorway of his room holding a closed umbrella. Your eyes were wide with alarm. For a long second, he wondered if this was still part of the dream. Your voice sounded too real though for it to be a dream. Panicked, even.
“Oh my god—” You crossed the room in an instant, dropping your bag somewhere near the chair. Your hand landed on his forehead, then his cheek. “Soobin, you’re burning up. What the hell, why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice broke off mid-sentence, tangled with disbelief. “Okay, okay, it’s fine, um—just… just wait for me, okay?”
You disappeared into the kitchen. He picked up a few distinct sounds like the clatter of cupboards, the rush of water from the tap and your hurried footsteps. The mattress dipped beside him, and the next thing he knew, you were pressing a damp towel against his forehead. The shock of it made him flinch, but the relief that followed was enough to draw a small, strangled sigh from him.
You exhaled shakily, wringing out the towel in the bowl you’d brought. “Did you even drink water? Have you taken your meds?” You glanced around at the bedside table, frowning at the open packet. “You probably didn’t take the next dose, did you? Of course you didn’t.”
He tried to speak, but it came out as a rasp, and you shushed him while adjusting the towel again. “Shh, don’t talk,” you said, hand brushing damp hair from his eyes. “You’re such an idiot. You could’ve just called.”
He would have laughed if his throat didn’t hurt so much. He forced his eyes open a little wider, though the effort drained what little strength he had left. It didn’t matter because he wanted to see you properly.
He must still be dreaming. The fever might have reached its cruelest peak, gifting him a hallucination so gentle it hurt to believe in it. Because how could you be here — in his apartment, taking care of him — when he had spent the past day convincing himself you were better off somewhere else? With someone else.
“I didn’t…” he started weakly, voice little more than a whisper. “Didn’t wanna bother you.”
You stared at him for a beat, lips parting as though to speak. Then you exhaled sharply, almost a laugh but not quite. “Bother me?” you echoed, shaking your head. “You idiot, you—” The words tripped over a breath and you bit them back, your shoulders sagging as if scolding him required more strength than you had. “God, Soobin.”
He closed his eyes when you pressed the cold cloth to his neck this time. You kept changing it, wiping his forehead, brushing damp strands of hair away, murmuring half-thoughts under your breath that he could barely piece together. He caught fragments: too hot, should’ve called, stupid boy, what if.
After a long silence, he whispered, “Are you mad at me?”
You seemed to still completely, towel halfway to the bowl. Your head turned, confusion written across your features. “Mad at you?” you repeated softly, the disbelief in your voice almost tender. “Soobin, why would I be mad?”
“I didn’t answer your texts,” he mumbled. His voice cracked halfway through. “I thought… maybe you’d—”
His words fell apart midway as a cough wracked through his chest until his ribs ached. You were already reaching for the glass, one hand steadying his shoulder as you lifted it to his lips. “Slowly,” you said, coaxing him to drink. “Small sips. You’ll choke otherwise.”
He obeyed, taking in just enough to ease the burn in his throat. When he settled back, he found you watching him, your expression softening that made his heart twist. You let out a quiet sigh and caressed his temple, fingertips cool against his fevered skin.
“Don’t be stupid,” you said, this time without any sharpness, just a weary affection. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
He looked at you, eyes glossy from fever, and for a moment he felt like he fell in love with you all over again. Te realization that you were — in fact — still there and close enough for him to see the faint tremor of your lashes, to count the breaths you took as each one anchored him to this specific moment.
“Can you stay?” His hand found yours, clumsy and shaking. “Please? I know you’d rather be—”
“Nowhere else.”
Your fingers tightened around his as your thumb traced steady lines over his knuckles. Then your other hand threaded gently through his hair, brushing it back from his damp forehead.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you,” you murmured, cupping his cheek.
He thought he might cry again from this strange, fragile joy that flooded his chest. The room soon dimmed, your presence the last thing he felt before sleep dragged him under.
When Soobin woke, the light filtering through the curtains had turned a pale gold that made him squint. His throat still felt scraped raw, but the fire beneath his skin had cooled into a dull warmth; more tolerable now than torturous. He blinked toward the window, then at his phone on the nightstand that read 10:03 a.m.
The sight should have been comforting had it not been for suddenly seeing your sleeping figure on the couch. You were still in yesterday’s clothes, a blanket draped clumsily over your legs, your head tilted toward your shoulder in an uncomfortable angle. A book lay facedown beside you and on the table next to it sat a glass of water gone flat. You must’ve skipped class, or worse, missed it completely because of him.
He tried to sit up, a poor decision that immediately sent a rush of dizziness through him. He reached out blindly for the bedside table, his palm knocking against the glass and sending it rattling against the wood. The sound startled you awake.
You straightened abruptly, blinking against the light before your eyes snapped to him. “Soobin—hey, what are you doing?” You were already up, the blanket falling from your lap as you crossed the small space between the couch and his bed. The book hit the floor with a dull thud.
He gaped at you, disoriented. “You’re gonna be late,” he said again, fumbling for the blanket as if he could somehow usher you out. “You should go—it’s morning already—you have class—”
You caught his wrist before he could push himself up again, guiding him back to prop up against the headboard. “Soobin,” you lowered your voice, as if coaxing a restless child back into bed. “It’s Saturday.” You pressed a hand to his shoulder, keeping him from rising again.
“Oh,” he said lamely, eyes dropping to the blanket pooled at his waist. “Right. Saturday. Sorry, I still feel a little out of it.” He remembered, belatedly, that you didn’t have classes on Saturdays.
“Clearly,” you muttered, moving to pick up the fallen book from the floor. “You scared the hell out of me last night.” You set the book down on the nightstand this time, glancing at him over your shoulder before coming to sit at his side on the bed. Soobin scooted away a little to make space for you.
You stayed seated at his side for a while, waiting until the uneven rhythm of his breathing steadied again. He felt the need to talk to you; didn’t know about what but he still wanted to. You, however, beat him to it.
“Yesterday…” you started, drawing your knees up onto the edge of his bed, “you weren’t answering any calls. I thought maybe you fell asleep early, but then it got late, and you still didn’t text back. So I panicked—a little,” you added quickly, though the faint crease between your brows said otherwise. “I grabbed my umbrella and ran to the shop, thinking maybe you were still there, only to find the door locked and lights out.” You gave a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head.
He did not interrupt you, letting you spew out everything.
“I stood there for five minutes like an idiot before remembering you gave me a spare key, and thank god you did.” You exhaled sharply, pressing your lips together. “I was honestly pretty terrified seeing you like that. You were burning up, Soobin. I know a fever’s supposed to be harmless most times, but it didn’t look harmless to me.”
“It was raining,” he tried to weakly argue but his resolve faltered when you narrowed your eyes. “You could’ve caught a cold. You didn’t even know if I was at home.”
“Even if I knew,” you shot back with a small frown. “What did you expect me to do? Just text ‘feel better’ and go to sleep?”
He let out a small, rough laugh that broke too easily into silence. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
“You didn’t mean to,” you echoed softly, glancing down at your hands, “but you still did. Next time, just send a message, alright? It takes two seconds. My heart can only take so much near-death panic.”
He thought about how easy it was to fall into silence, to let the days fold over him until people stopped asking if he was fine. He’d told himself solitude made things simpler, but looking at you now, eyes still red from lack of sleep and worry, he felt the truth of what it cost.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, voice thin as paper. The words weren’t only for last night; they bled from deeper parts of his heart for all the times you were made to go through exhausting situations for him.
You leaned forward, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. “Apology accepted,” you said softly, slipping them on him with care. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’d hate it if something happened to you and I didn’t know.”
Your fingertipss brushed against his skin before you drew your hand back. His soul felt like it was cleaved wide open.
The moment was disrupted by the doorbell.
Soobin met your eyes for a brief moment. He had a feeling you both already guessed the identity of your uninvited visitor. Sure enough, Jisoo stood at the door. He was visibly fuming with smoke coming out of his ears. In one arm, he balanced two paper bags, the other occupied with pointing an accusatory finger behind you before you could even greet him.
“Do you have a death wish?” he demanded, stepping inside without invitation. “Because that’s the only logical explanation for this level of idiocy. You look like a dying Victorian child!”
“Good morning to you too,” Soobin muttered from the bed, waving a hand.
Jisoo ignored that entirely and instead turned back to you to greet you with a smile. He set the bags down on the table, tearing one open. “Breakfast,” he announced, though it sounded less like generosity and more like punishment. “Because apparently I’m surrounded by idiots who forget they are human.”
You tilted your head, assessing the situation. “Soobin, did you tell Jisoo to leave early last night?”
“Oh, he did,” Jisoo fired back, dropping into the chair beside the bed. “he said, and I quote—‘I’m fine, Jisoo, go home, I’ll lock up.’” He deepened Soobin’s voice with painful accuracy. “And now look at him—he looks like he’s been through hell and back!”
Soobin exhaled through his nose, rubbing a palm over his face as if that could erase both fatigue and embarrassment. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” he said, though even he didn’t sound convinced.
Jisoo scoffed, pulling out a thermos from one of the bags and unscrewing the lid with unnecessary force. “That’s the problem—you never think it’s ‘that bad’ until someone has to carry your half-dead body off the floor.” He poured steaming porridge into a bowl and shoved it toward Soobin.
You stifled a laugh behind your hand, murmuring, “He’s not wrong.”
Soobin gave a weak shrug, though his mouth curved slightly. “I’m sorry for making you worry. But I really am fine now.” He hesitated, eyes flickering from you to Jisoo. “I really don’t deserve you guys.”
Jisoo groaned. “You’re damn right you don’t,” he said, though his hands betrayed him by reaching over to pull the blanket back up to Soobin’s chest. He glanced at you briefly, muttering under his breath, “You spoil him too much.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Someone has to. He nearly cooked himself alive yesterday.”
Soobin felt his lips curl into a smile when he saw you and Jisoo exchange a look then — shared exasperation wrapped in affection. Jisoo gave him the stink eye.
“Don’t look at me like that. You’re banned from the shop until you can stand without wobbling.” Jisoo straightened his posture and jabbed a finger toward Soobin’s nose, trying to summon authority in front of his boss. Soobin decided to let it go this once. “I’m running it till you’re back, and I don’t wanna hear a single word of protest.”
Soobin raised his hands in surrender, that same faint smile growing genuine. “I wasn’t going to argue.”
“Good,” Jisoo muttered, snatching up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Because I’ve already hidden the spare keys. Don’t even try to look for them.”
You snorted. “He will, you know.”
“Then I’ll move them again.” Jisoo huffed, shooting Soobin one last warning glance before heading for the door. He paused, turning back just long enough to add, more softly, “Just rest, alright? You can’t run a shop if you drop dead first.”
The days blurred into each other after that. You came every day, sometimes with food, sometimes with books and the only difference was that before, it was you coming over to his shop, and now, in his home. In a sense, nothing really changed at all.
He had told you it wasn’t necessary, more than once, but you never listened. And though he tried to keep a respectable distance in fear of spreading his flu to you, standing by the counter while you moved about the stove, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that crept in. the same treacherous ones that painted pictures of you staying longer than you should, of your books finding space beside his, of a life that wasn’t temporary.
A vision of you living with him; something he wanted to coin as ‘forever’.
He had to snap out of his daydreams before the longing killed him.
One afternoon, you appeared holding a small stack of papers bound together with a paperclip. You placed it on his lap where he was sitting on his bed reading a book.
“What’s all this?” he asked, pushing his glasses up and flipping through the pages.
“Notes,” you replied, as if it were obvious. “I asked your classmates to send me what you’ve missed so far.”
He glanced from the stack to your face and back again. He was stunned by your thoughtfulness, and perhaps he looked like a gaping fish at a loss of words because you took one look at him and snorted.
You didn’t look particularly pleased with yourself. You sat cross-legged on the floor near the coffee table and uncapped your pen with a click. “It’s not a big deal. You’d do the same if it were me.”
He didn’t say anything to that but you both knew you weren’t wrong about it. Yet, Soobin learned that being around you makes him want to do better, and be more outspoken with his feelings. And he wanted to be better for you.
He let out a soft, “Thank you.”
You waved a hand, already bent over your workbook. “Don’t get sentimental on me. It’s barely anything.” A pause, the faint scratch of your pen against paper, and then you added almost absently, “Oh—Beomgyu’s coming by to help at the shop.”
The back of his neck stung. “Beomgyu?”
“Mhm,” you hummed, not looking up. “He offered. Said he could help restock and handle the counter till you’re better. You should hurry up and recover soon—the flowers are starting to sulk without you.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “The flowers are fine.”
“No, they’re not,” you countered softly, still writing. “They miss you.”
There was a pause — long enough for him to think that was the end of it, and his mind started to wander to unpleasant territory after hearing beomgyu’s name. Before he could think of what to say, your pen stopped moving, your eyes still fixed on the page.
“I miss you.”
Soobin’s gaze stilled despite the storm that began to brew behind his eyes. Beomgyu’s words resurfaced in his mind— you think she doesn’t notice the way you look at her? — and for a fleeting second, Soobin thought maybe you did know. Maybe you had known all along.
Because the things you said to him, the way you treated him, they lifted him to the heavens and gave him hope. Hope that he feared might betray him if it was misplaced. However, the question still hung unspoken in his mind — about Beomgyu, about what he’d said, about whether he’s going too ahead of himself and reading your intentions wrong and if your words just now were only friendly. Because Soobin couldn’t really tell.
Thinking about the devil brings him to your doorstep — Soobin should’ve believed that phrase by now.
“Yo, boss,” Beomgyu drawled from the doorway, grin wide and infuriating. He was leaning one shoulder against the frame. “Still alive, I see.”
You turned, delighted. “Beomgyu! You’re here early.”
He flashed you a smile too clean to be sincere. “Jisoo needed help with the new shipment, didn’t he? Why don’t you go lend him a hand? I’ll keep Soobin company.” His tone was harmlessly casual.
Soobin only gave a mild nod when you glanced his way, though the faint crease between his brows betrayed his suspicion. Beomgyu’s grin dwindled into a smirk the moment you left. He even had the audacity to wink at Soobin.
Soobin exhaled through his nose, setting his book aside. “If you’re here to bother me, just say so.”
“Not bother,” Beomgyu said, moving toward the windows and flicking open the latch to let in a stream of morning air. “Motivate!” He plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the cabinet, turning it over in his hand as though appraising its worth. “So, did you miss me?”
Soobin wanted to get to the point. “Did you succeed then?” He regarded him dryly.
Beomgyu sank into the couch across from him, taking a bite of the apple. “In taking her out? Yeah.” He let out an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand over his heart. “But the entire time—” he waved the apple vaguely in the air, “—she talked about you.”
Soobin blinked, the words slipping past him at first — until they didn’t. “What do you mean ‘talked about me’?”
“I meant exactly what I said,” Beomgyu spoke around another bite, before standing up and pacing slowly around the room. “Couldn’t get two sentences in without your name popping up. I knew right away I didn’t stand a chance. Gotta say, though, it bruised my ego a little.” He pointed the apple at Soobin. “So maybe, y’know, man up and take your chance already. You’d do everyone—and their mothers—a favour.”
Soobin could only stare off in space. His thoughts ran in frantic circles, every word Beomgyu said setting off sparks behind his eyes. You talked about him? That much? He tried to picture what you might’ve said, what parts of him you thought worth mentioning — and found the idea too delicate for his overjoyed heart.
Beomgyu snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Hey. Earth to Soobin.” He squinted, then pointed the apple again. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re daydreaming right now. Look at you — you’re totally fantasizing about her. Ewwwww~”
“What— no!” Soobin spluttered, grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it across the room.
Beomgyu ducked, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. “You totally are! Look at you, all flushed. You’re hopelessly in love.” he managed between breaths.
Soobin groaned into his hand. “Did you ever like her?” The question slipped out. He looked up again, cautious but curious. “You said you did.”
Beomgyu’s laughter died down to a few huffs as he sank into the couch again, still grinning. “Alright, fine. Serious talk.”
Soobin frowned, getting up from bed. “Did you?” he repeated as he fetched a glass of water from the kitchen.
“Oh. Uh, not like that.” Beomgyu chewed on his lip, then shrugged. “I like her, sure — she’s a good person. But romantically? Nah.” He gestured loosely toward Soobin, eyes glinting with mischief again. “You were giving me such a look that day, so I figured I’d rile you up a little. Didn’t think it’d work that well.”
Soobin frowned, recalling the unease he’d felt that Thursday when Beomgyu had mentioned asking you out. The irritation resurfaced, though now mingled with reluctant embarrassment. “That’s not what you said last Thursday.”
Beomgyu smirked, tossing the apple core into the bin. “What, you thought I was serious?”
Soobin stared at him, words slipping through his grasp. Nothing about him moved except the faint twitch in his jaw.
Beomgyu hesitated. “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughter bubbling up again. “You can’t tell me it wasn’t funny.”
It wasn’t. For days, he had been haunted by that single conversation, replaying it in the back of his mind. He could still feel the echo of every unnecessary thought he’d had since. Soobin came to a conclusion right then and there that if there’s anyone who could test his patience to an excruciating extent, it’s Choi Beomgyu. How ridiculous, he thought. How utterly, painfully ridiculous to have spent nights overthinking when Beomgyu had only wanted a laugh.
Soobin gently put the glass down on the table before taking a deep breath. The next thing Beomgyu knew, he was caught in a headlock.
“HEY—WAIT—SOOBIN—!”
Their shouts and laughter resonated through the apartment; Beomgyu shrieking for his life while Soobin held him in place, spewing half-hearted curses until it felt less like a sickroom and more like the friendship that was bound to take root.
SATURDAY made Soobin ricochet between certainties and doubts until you gently cradled his heart in your palms and kissed it.
Jisoo had dragged everyone out on the excuse of celebrating Soobin’s recovery, but the moment the bill arrived, all eyes turned to him with suspicious coordination. Beomgyu was the first to pat his shoulder and declare that the boy who lived should at least buy lunch. Jisoo nearly choked on his drink from laughing, and you—of all people—hid your grin behind the rim of your glass as if your loyalty could be bought with a smile. Soobin had sighed, pulled out his wallet, and decided that maybe feeding his friends was still preferable to the silence of his empty apartment.
When the meal ended, Jisoo announced that he’ll return to the shop, encouraging Soobin to ‘enjoy the rest of the day’. Beomgyu stayed behind for a moment, leaning closer to Soobin under the pretense of fixing his shirt. “If you don’t say something today, I swear I’ll do it for you,” he threatened with a smile. “You’ve had two years, Soobin. Make your move.” Then he gave Soobin a shove that nearly made him stumble into you, and left before Soobin could even retort.
That left you and him standing under the awning. He, too, wanted to make the most of the time and was unwilling to let the day end. “Do you want to do anything else before heading home?” he asked, trying to sound casual but praying you wouldn’t say no.
You tilted your head slightly and smiled as if you were already one step ahead of him. “Actually, yes,” you said, unlocking your phone and holding it out for him to see. On the screen was a poster for a lantern festival not far from the riverside. “It says it starts at sunset. We could go check it out?”
“Of course. I’ll take you there.”
The venue was a mosaic of color and sound. Children ran around with paper lanterns shaped like stars and rabbits; vendors shouted over each other selling skewers, candied fruit, roasted chestnuts. You reached for his sleeve more than once, tugging him toward stalls that caught your eyes — an old man folding paper cranes, a painter who would draw quick portraits in ink. Soobin bought you skewered fishcakes and handed one over before you even asked, his lips tugging up when you took it with an exaggerated hum of approval. At one point, you dragged him toward a photo booth tucked between two food stalls. The flash caught the softest smile he’d worn in weeks.
By the time the sun began to fall, the crowd had thickened. Soobin had his height advantage but he was worried about you since you didn't do well in crowds. While he was thinking of taking you to a much less crowded place, his entire mind came to a static stop when he felt your hand slipping into his. You looked up at him, eyes reflecting the orange of a hundred paper lanterns. Your fingers slowly intertwined with his. You didn’t say anything, but the small curve of your smile was enough to make him forget every other noise around him.
When the call came for everyone to light their lanterns, Soobin took one and handed it to you. Together, you crouched near the edge of the riverbank, the paper glowing faintly between your palms. Around you, the first wave of lanterns began to rise, painting the twilight sky with gold.
“Make a wish,” you giggled, your eyes falling shut.
Soobin looked at you instead. The wind lifted a strand of your hair; the light touched your face in a way that made every thought blur. He could have wished for many things but all that came to him was you.
When you opened your eyes again, you smiled and released the lantern. It drifted upward, joining the others until it became just another glowing dot among others.
“Hey, Soobin?” You kept watching the sky. “Do you worry too much about expressing yourself all the time? specially with me?”
He turned to you, brows drawing together. “What makes you say that?”
You chuckled softly, the sound easing into the evening air. “Because I like every side of you. Even when you’re quiet. Some silences feel empty, but ours never does. You know how people say certain silences are so comfortable that you could sit in them forever? I feel that with you.”
Soobin suddenly thought of the bouquet Beomgyu made him make, the one he never gave you. “Can I take you somewhere before you go home?” he asked suddenly. It had to be now.
“Sure,” you said, curious. “Where?”
“My shop.”
Jisoo’s shift ended earlier so the shop was empty.
Soobin gave you a dimpled smile as you perched yourself on the stool near the counter. Witht the same devotion and love, his hands put together a bouquet of you rfavourite flowers. You watched him fondly, it was that intensity of your gaze that made it hard for him to keep his hands steady. He felt like he put extra care into making this one, tracing every micro expression on your face when he held the bouquet in front of you.
“What’s all this?” you asked, laughing softly as you took it.
“My way of saying thank you,” he said, pushing his glasses up. “And my way of saying I’m sorry. For making you worry when I was sick… and for everything else. For everything you’ve done for me.”
You held the bouquet close, nose brushing against the petals. “They’re beautiful,” you said sincerely. “Thank you, Soobin.”
He smiled but what he wanted was to close the space between you, to hold you instead of the air. The thought stayed caged behind his ribs, fluttering restlessly as you smiled at him over the flowers.
He walked you back home that night. It was truly a miracle he hadn’t fallen apart already when everytime your knuckles brushed against his. As stupid as that sounded because, matter of fact, he’d held your hand before, more times than he could count, and yet here he was again, reduced to a mess by a passing touch. There were flowers that withered slower than the way he fell apart in your presence.
When you stepped inside to put the bouquet away, he stayed by the door, listening to the faint sounds of your movement within. The hallway was hushed and in that quietness, Soobin tried to steady his thoughts. He didn’t know what to say to you anymore. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t ruin this? Loving you in silence was torture, but maybe it was safer than the ache of losing you. He leaned his head back against the wall, exhaling slowly, watching your shadow spill through the doorway.
Maybe this was enough, he told himself. Maybe loving you in silence was safer.
After you returned, the sight of you made that illusion crumble all over again. He could tell you were tired. He wanted to reach out, to brush his thumb under your eye and tell you to rest, to promise you the whole world if it meant keeping that light in your face. Instead, he said, “It’s been a long day. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
He shifted his weight when you only stared at him. He couldn’t read what you were thinking, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit. So, true to habit, he did what he always did when he got too close to the edge — he started to walk away. It was easier to retreat before the ground gave way beneath him. Easier to run from what his heart kept whispering.
“Can I tell you something?”
Your voice cut through the silence, a little hesitant. Soobin froze mid-step, the air catching in his throat. He turned around slowly, afraid of what you might say yet hoping it would be everything he’d been wishing for.
“Since meeting you,” you began, then paused for a brief moment to collect your thoughts, “I actually began wishing for more time. I want more time with you. Every time I’m with you, you make me feel so happy, just by being you.”
Soobin’s lips parted slowly. His mind went blank, completely overtaken by the rush in his chest. Were you saying what he thought you were? Confirming everything he had buried under restraint and fear? His pulse thundered, and he could feel it in his throat, in his fingertips, in the space between you.
You were nervous. He could tell the way you pressed your palms together and averted his eyes. “Gosh, I must sound insane right now,” you murmured, your voice dipping into a hesitant chuckle, “but I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather do right now. I just want to be close to you.” You glanced down, then lifted your eyes back to him, a tiny, resigned smile finding your lips. “Are you going to make me wait much longer?”
All he could think was — were you asking him not to run anymore? Were you telling him it was safe to fall?
Soobin couldn't take it anymore. All this time he’d known you, he wanted nothing more than to freely love you. He wanted more than just yearning gazes and fleeting brushes of touch. He wanted to let himself have you, to allow the current of love rush through him.
In two strides he closed the distance, his hands cupping your face before he dipped his head. When his mouth met yours, the force of it stole the breath from both of you — lips colliding with a hunger that had been building up for months.
The poets were so damn wrong because kissing you didn’t feel like setting off fireworks; it felt like returning to his rightful home.
A sigh passed from you to him at the first contact, followed by a broken sound from the back of your throat when he slid his hand into your hair to pull you closer, closer, closer to him. The noise was so small yet ruinous that it made him want to fall to his knees.
Soobin had to hold onto the doorframe above your head when you arched into him, when your hand had to scramble for the same doorframe behind you while the other clutched at the front of his shirt, knuckles white, as holding him was the only thing keeping you upright. He could feel the rapid flutter of your pulse beneath his thumbs as they brushed along your jaw. And gods, he’d been right — your lips were soft, impossibly so. Now that he got a taste of your lips, Soobin had to figure out later how not to get addicted to them.
Every thought in his head dissolved into the warmth of you. All those nights he had spent trying to reason with himself, all those what-ifs and not-yets, burned away in the press of your mouth against his. He’d never known what it was to want something so wholly, so ruinously, until you. He knew already that he could never go back from this, that he didn’t want to.
You broke the kiss first, your breath brushing against his as you whispered, “Stay the night. Please?”
Holy fuck. You really had no idea what you did to him, did you? Soobin dazedly stared at you and thought, if this woman tacked on the words please onto any request, he would find a way to fulfill it.
He muttered a curse under his breath and went back to devouring you. His pulse roared in his ears as he pushed you inside, the door clicking shut behind him with his heel. He hadn’t broken the kiss once as you stumbled backward, your shoes slipping off in your scramble to match his pace, both of you breathing hard as if you had run a mile to get here. His hands were everywhere; holding your face, slipping into your hair, grabbing the back of your neck, running down your sides, back, hips — they couldn’t decide on a destination because every road led to you.
He still couldn’t believe this was happening as he kissed you even deeply, he still couldn't believe you were kissing him back with equal amount of passion. He licked into you, but not too much or too fast, just enough to ask permission and you opened your mouth. The heat of your tongue gliding over his made him whimper, feeling high already from so little.
It was a good thing the sofa was near because any more minute and he’d collapse into a puddle. When the back of your knees hit the sofa, he caught you, guiding you down gently. You sank into the cushions, looking up at him as he towered above you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen, and your gaze pulled him in until he felt dizzy with it. For a suspended moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your laboured breathings.
His gaze moved over you in a haze of disbelief, the rise and fall of his chest uneven as if his body was struggling to keep up with his heart. He had imagined this too many times but imagination had nothing on the way to finally feel you like this, to have your scent clinging to his skin, to taste your lips. It felt surreal, intoxicating, overwhelming in every sense.
“Two years,” he roughly said as he leaned down, his words trembling against your skin. “I tried—God, I really tried not to want you like this.”
His hand found the back of the sofa beside your head for support, his other resting against your cheek. He slid one knee in between your thighs as it dug into the cushion. He did an experimental press up against your heat, watching the way you jerked up with a hitched breath, your eyes falling shut once before opening again as one of your hands came to rest on that knee.
“You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he confessed, his voice breaking between each word. “Every damn day.”
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then the curve of your cheek, before finding your mouth again. The way your fingers slipped into his hair tugging slightly made him shudder, and he groaned against your lips at the sensation, his breath catching in the space between one heartbeat and the next. But he kissed you with a slowness that contradicted the rush inside him; he kissed you as if he were learning the world all over again, as though every touch of yours rewrote what he thought he knew about longing.
“I’m so tired of pretending I’m fine around you,” he murmured against your skin, pulling back just enough to look at you. His hand found your cheek again, his thumb tracing beneath your eye. “Every time you smiled at me, it hurt. Every time you said my name, I thought I was going to lose it. And I kept telling myself it was better this way—that I could handle it—but I can’t. I can’t anymore.”
You laughed softly. You looked beautiful. It made him smile too.
“I know, Soobin,” you said, biting your lip to suppress the growing grin. Your hand traced the line of his jaw, gentle and familiar. “You’re not really good at pretending. I’ve always known, more or less. But I didn’t want to act on my gut feeling alone. I had to be sure.”
His expression faltered. He felt and probably looked like he might actually cry, he couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. “I’m sorry,” he whispered earnestly. “I should’ve said it sooner—should’ve done something—but I was so damn scared of ruining us. And now I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to waste the time we have. Not one more second.”
Your smile softened, eyes shining as you nodded. “Me neither.”
His heart was full as he shared a tender smile with you. Then he held your hand and pulled you up with him before changing the position, pulling you back down again. He hauled you easily onto his lap — running his hands along your sides before gliding them over your back, then down to the small of your back before pressing you against him. If he could he’d hold you closer until no one could tell apart where you began and he ended.
He’s trailing kisses down the torrid skin of your jaw, your neck, your collarbones before biting down on the supple flesh, eliciting a strained moan from you. You tilted your head back and gave him full access, which he took without hesitation. His glasses bumped into your skin, which made him irritated and swiftly took it off with a ‘tsk’ before putting it aside somewhere on the sofa.
“Let me love you,” he whispered. He felt your throat bobbed against his mouth when you swallowed and nodded, letting out another soft sound that had his mind reeling, and he felt his cock twitch at the thought of just how much louder he could make you. “Let me take care of you, please.”
His name fell from your lips as you screwed your eyes shut when he held you by the hips and made you grind against him. He looked up at you from this angle and he thought this is probably what heaven looked like. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, more than just feeling you rub against his growing bulge through all these damn layers of clothes.
In one quick motion he set you down on the sofa, cracking a smile at your dazed yet confused look. Soobin exhaled before sinking to his knees in front of you.
You gave him a shy smile as you got into a more comfortable position, letting his hands rest on your thighs. This sight — he gazed up at you from where he’s kneeling — he’s willing to worship for the rest of his life. He kissed each of your thighs, then his hands trailed over to the waistband of your jeans.
“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he was begging you. He didn’t think he could ever stop though. “I’ll stop if you say it. I swear.”
“Dont stop.” You reached down to unbutton your jeans. “Please, Soobin. Don’t stop.”
He reached back up to clash his mouth to yours again as his hands yanked your jeans all the way down with a little bit of your help. By now Soobin was already heady, and when he sat back on his heels to come face to face with the sight of your dampened panties, translucent from the slick pooling in between your thighs, he nearly ruined his own pants. Soobin hadn't even touched you directly and you were already a mess.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, thumb circling your clit over the fabric as he drank up all your twitches and gasps. A sense of pride filled him at the fact that this was him who drew you over to this crest. It was all him — the reason behind this sopping pleasure of yours.
“Soobin—oh fuck, ah,” you arched, throwing your head back when he ran his tongue up the length of the wet spot you made.
The first taste through this barrier filled his senses to the brim, shockwave travelling to his fingertips before returning and plummeting his sanity somewhere down to his dick. Soobin couldn’t fight the moan that got muffled against your heat, following that line with the flat of his tongue, then again with the point. He gripped your thighs and hips desperately, urging you to grind on his face as he ravished you through the flimsy cloth.
The sound of your pleasure, the taste of you, and your, fuck — there was your hand gripping his hair. He was huffing and taking short breaths, impatience getting the best of him before he almost ripped your panties off of you and threw it somewhere behind him.
There was a ringing in his ear as he looked up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and obedient because in this moment, he felt like he was made to kneel at your feet. You were flushed and breathing heavily but looked extremely beautiful like this. He grabbed your hips and tugged you closer to the edge making you yelp softly.
“I promise I’ll be good for you.” He guided your trembling thighs over his shoulders as he lowered his face to your pussy, never taking his searing eyes off of yours. “So promise me you won’t stop looking at me. Please?”
You nodded quickly, a shaky hand taking purchase in his hair again. “I promise.”
The moment those words left you, he dived into you, his tongue licking a long stripe along your folds, lapping up your arousal — fuck. Fucking hell this is what you tasted like? You tasted so divine, so intoxicating that Soobin had to gather himself after the first lick. It felt like a sin that he only tasted you through a barrier earlier. It felt like a heinous sin that he’d been deprived of this pussy for so long. You were all arounf him. His name coming out of your lips in between gasps and cries, and —
“Oh, God. Fuck, Soobin, you’re so good—yes, yes, just like that—”
— oh.
You were praising him. His vision blurred through the eye contact — the one you promised to not break and true to your words you’ve never once did — and he felt like a flower blooming and meeting the light for the first time. Soobin buried himself deeper into your heat, nose bumping against your sensitive bundle of nerves while he tongued your entrance and drank up every drop of your essence. He was drunk, so high on you as he watched you let out a high pitched gasp when he eased in two fingers, feeling your folds stretching then clamping around his thickness.
He promised you he was going to be obedient so he picked up every micro reaction you gave at every thrust of his fingers, every tremble of your body when he sucked on your clit before swriling the tip of his tongue over it until he figured out what was going to take him to guide you over the edge. But looking at you, it didn’t seem like he was going to need to do much work anyway.
He could feel you spasming around his fingers, your moans falling faster and needier as your thighs closed around his head. He was suffocating but it felt excruciatingly good that his eyes rolled back but no — no, he had to hold your gaze, needed to watch you fall apart and amidst that all Soobin palmed himself, groaning into you. With one final stroke up your sweet spot, he brought you over a mind shattering orgasm — for you, and him.
It was the scrape of your fingers in his scalp that made him cum, his release lifting off an invisible burden from his shoulders as he felt himself slipping into a state of pure bliss. Soobin came to his senses belatedly when you said his name. He was unmoving, mouth still attached to your quivering pussy when he swallowed, feeling you dripping down his throat.
You looked utterwly wrecked. Skin glistening with sweat as your chest heaved. It brought a shy smile to face as he sat back up on his heels. “Was it alright?” he meekly asked, wiping his chin.
You breathlessly laughed, pushing yourself up on one hand. “It was everything I've ever dreamed of.”
Soobin’s eyes darkened slowly when you touched his jaw and pushed your thumb on the plump of his bottom lip. You smeared your release over his lip before pushing your thumb inside his mouth. He moaned around your finger before sucking, letting you thumb down his tongue as saliva pooled around it. He felt his dick twitch again, shamelessly getting hard once more.
“Kiss me,” you said, and who even was he to deny your request?
He pushed his tongue past your lips, letting you taste yourself and the sensation was so overwhelming that it drew out a groan from you. It was messy and hot, it was downright filthy but Soobin would give up on anything to experience this for the first time ever again.
“Soobin,” you softly whined against his lips, pulling back to look at him with a hunger that mirrored his, “I don’t want to stop yet. I need more. I need you.”
He was as desperate as you were, maybe even more. “I could spend the rest of my life making you feel good.” and then his hand was slipping under your shirt, gliding over the hot skin and tracing every dip, every curve before he hoisted you up easily. “Let’s get comfortable first, yeah?” he spoke against your mouth as your legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, never once separating from your lips.
Once he reached your bedroom, he placed you down gently on the bed before settling himself in between your legs. The rest of your clothes messily came off, neither of you wanting to waste another second and only wanting to feel each others’ naked skin. Soobin had to pause and sit back on his heels as he admired you, unable to fathom that he was truly seeing you in the way he had only ever dreamed of.
He grabbed a moundful of one of your breasts, your perky nipple peeking in between his long fingers while he dipped his head down and took the other one in his mouth. How come you tasted so good everywhere? Soobin was going to become gluttonous because of you. Not that he minded. He loved hearing your little gasps. You were so sensitive from just moments ago but you were already gushing again.
“Soobin, please, please,” you cried out when he stroked you slowly betwen your folds. Despite how wet you were, he was worried his size was going to be too much for you. He had to make you pliant as much as possible.
“Tell me if it gets uncomfortable. Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He panted as he pumped himself slowly. It wasn’t like Sooobin had his calm either. He was flushed and sweaty, trembling in every movement he made. He’s been thrumming with the electricity of want himself. He didn’t know how long he could keep going before his brain turned mushy too. He watched the way your glazed over eyes took in his size; it filled him with equal amounts of pride and worry. “Tell me what you want, alright? I’ll do anything.”
His cockhead slid in between your folds as the tip bumped your clit, restinf over your abdomen. A guttural groan escaped his chest when he realized he was almost touching the underneath of your navel. Shit, will you be alright? He had no time to overthink when you reached out to wrap your hand around him, making his entire body twitch in pleasure. He was hot and hard in your hand as you guided his tip back to your wet entrance.
“I trust you.” You laid back and smiled at him. Soobin, again, felt like he was falling in love with you all over again.
He held your thighs more apart, large hands massaging the supple flesh of them. Soobin used his thumbs to spread open your pussy before directly letting a glob of spit fall onto your hole. You squealed, clearly surprised, but seeing how you clenched around air desperately made him learn that you could be into it. He made a mental note to explore this more some other time.
He lathered his saliva with your slick as he nudged his leaking tip along your slit, making you whimper and jerk up your hips to get more friction, but Soobin placed a large hand over your abdomen and held you down in place.
“Come closer. I want to hold you,” you mumbled, making him comply easily.
He kissed you, so deeply, so fiercely, that the gasp you let out when he slowly sheathed himself inside you was entirely devoured by his mouth. Soobin’s mouth hung open, puffing against the hot skin of your neck as he couldn’t decide where to focus; the sheer euphoric wave of pleasure as your warmth enveloped him or on the fingers clawing his back. Even with the thick slick of your combined orgasms, he could tell you needed time to accommodate the stretch.
“I’m sorry—ah, I'm so sorry, love,” he kept apologizing softly, giving you time to adjust as he slowly sank into your aching core. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenching as he had to fight the urge to cum from just feeling your tight walls clench around him. You were a gasping mess, writhing beneath him as you dug your nail across his back. “T—Take all the time you need.”
He bottomed out fully as he held himself up on his arms around your head, face resting in the crook of your neck where he peppered soft kisses to help you relax. You were fluttering madly around him. After a moment Soobin felt you squeeze his bicep as he looked at you, and when you nodded at him through the haze of pleasure, he began to set a careful languid rhythm.
“Fuck,” he groaned, and finally started to loose his already fraying composure. If he planned to fuck you slowly, it was going to take a lot of willpower to do that. Your moans rang sweetly beside his ear as you clung to him tighter with every thrust. Soobin tried to hold on to sanity when he felt your hand trail up to the hair on his nape, curling and tugging on a fistful. He whimpered, pathetically so, picking up the pace of his thrusts.
Soobin’s head reeled when he stared at where his cock slid wetly in and out of your sopping pussy. It wasn’t just that sight that set his mind and every part ablaze. It was the visible outline of a bulge growing in your abdomen at a specific angle every time he thrusted up into you.
Your hands travelled from the back of his neck to cup his face as you made him look at you instead. The smile you wore, so fucked out and dazed, sent his already racing heart thudding painfully in his chest. “You feel so good, Soobin,” you breathed out through choked pants. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this before.”
He shuddered at your praises, one hand sliding down your thigh before pushing it up to your chest. This angle made you feel more open and made him hit even deeper. And yet, Soobin was holding himself back in fear of hurting you and he could tell you knew that too. You felt that too.
So when you kissed him and mumbled against his lips, “You don’t have to hold back—it’s okay.” — he let himself fall into your plea.
Your faces were near, passing breaths between that small space before claiming it again, and again, and again. The depraved sound of skin against skin along with your mingling groans and gasps resonated off the walls of the room. He could feel you clenching around him, your moans getting louder and needier.
“Soobin—’m close,” is all you managed before crying out, back arching and pressing onto him flushed.
You gripped him like a vice, your body quivering when you finished, his name spilling from you so sinfully that it drove him over the edge. It caused him to become the louder one then — groans and grunts as his thrusts became sloppier, helping you ride out your orgasm before he buried himself to the sheath in one last deep thrust and spilled inside you.
There was a beat of silence as you both chased for air. Soobin panted through his mouth, eyes blown wide as he relived the entire situation in his mind again. He brushed your hair out of your sweaty forehead, fingers threading to your scalp as he pulled out of you. The feeling made you whimper as you buried your face into his arm, eyes screwed shut. You were seriously going to be the death of him. He saw the way his cum leaked out of you in bulk waves, feeling his dick twitch at the sight. Shit, shit, shit was this okay?
“I’m safe if you’re worried about it,” you gently assured him, then patted the space beside you. “Lie down beside me.”
“I will,” he promised before linking your fingers with his and kissing your knuckles. “I need to clean you up first. Give me a moment, love. I’ll be back.”
True to his words he returned with a damp towel. He pressed it softly against your skin, wiping away the sheen of sweat, cleaning you thoroughly before helping you go to the bathroom.
His eyes, dark yet brimming with adoration, never once strayed from yours. In their depths lived every confession he had ever swallowed and every longing he had buried that had bloomed in the spaces between your shared glances. Soobin took in the gentleness of your gaze, the way it mirrored his own, and let himself smile. He reached out, his hand brushing against your wrist before tugging you gently down beside him on the bed. The bed dipped beneath your combined weight, and he gathered you against him, drawing the covers over your bodies until only your breaths filled the air, warm and uneven.
For one fragile second he still wondered if this could be a dream, some mercy granted to a man who had spent too long convincing himself he didn’t need what he did. But then you looked up at him, eyes shimmering like dawn breaking through, and whispered the words that undid every doubt. “I love you.”
He tilted his forehead against yours, eyes closing, before capturing your lips in a kiss that trembled with everything he could not say fast enough. He sealed the words against your mouth before murmuring them back to you.
“I love you. Until the end of time.”
The roses you’d placed on the shelf of your room — the bouquet he made for you — bore witness to this undying love. They would fade with time, but he knew this night, this joining of breaths and words and souls, would not.
Time flew in a strange way on SUNDAYS.
There had been a time in Soobin’s life when he felt that way because you were there under the same roof, guiding the old couple around the flower shop and still, you felt impossibly far from his grasp. He used to fill that distance with his longing in silence. Back then, the hours spent beside you seemed to stretch endlessly and vanish all at once. Sundays used to hurt in their beauty.
Soobin bowed to a customer leaving with a bouquet wrapped in paper the shade of cream roses, he straightened and glanced toward the nursery. Beyond the windowpane, warmth spilled in from the morning sun. You stood there with Mrs. Park, tracing your fingers over the petals of the sunflowers, saying something that made her laugh.
It was still Sunday, still the same hour, but the time passed differently now. Because when you turned, when your eyes met his and you smiled that unguarded smile that reached him like light through a break in clouds, he no longer had to hoard his love in silence. There was a space now for his love to rest, a place for his yearning to call home. Every emotion now spelled your name; every heartbeat found its answer.
You, you, you.
The seconds no longer slipped away; they held still in their sweetness, suspended in their fullness. It felt different — so achingly different — because Soobin finally knew he had all the time in the world with you. Love was no longer something he waited for; it was the air he breathed, the sunlight that kept finding him every new day. He could finally call this forever.
There are loves that blossom silently, and there are loves that consume. Love chose him as its sole vessel the moment you stepped into his still life and made it breathe. Because you were not merely the person he loved.
You were the garden and the grave where Soobin would bury himself. Willingly, ardently, and without return.
summary: you and your husband soobin have been married for a year, but your desire for each other hasn’t faded. in fact, it’s only grown more intense. from spontaneous office quickies to sensual public encounters, your love is as passionate as it is insatiable.
pairing: husband!soobin x wife fem!reader
genre: smut, pwp, romantic erotica, established marriage au.
warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, oral, creampie, possessive behavior, riding, fingering, married couple dynamics, unrealistic libido (no mention of periods or pregnancy, this is pure fiction, not real-life sex ed) mutual obsession and desperate love vibes.
wc: 3,1k
notes: OMG! i just hit 1700 followers!! when did that even happen??? 🥹 thank you so much for all your love and support, i love you all endlessly 💌 you’re the reason i keep writing. i actually had this fic ready for a while, but i finally gave it a proper read-through so i could post it 🫠 husband!soobin is seriously the best concept ever… and him being a total perv too?? yes please 👅🔥
you never thought marriage would taste this sweet.
a year had passed since the two of you tied the knot, and not a single day had gone by without his hands on your skin, without your lips on his, without your body aching for him. most people said the passion would fade after the honeymoon, that routine would dull the fire, but it only seemed to burn hotter the longer you were together.
you weren’t just lovers. you were addicts. both of you.
it didn’t matter where you were or who was around—when the heat hit, you both found a way to release it. on the elevator to your apartment, pressed against the mirrored wall with soobin's hand covering your mouth to silence your moans. in the restroom of an upscale restaurant, your dress bunched up around your waist, legs trembling as he whispered filth into your ear while fucking you senseless against the sink. on your balcony at night, the wind carrying the scent of sex through the city, your knees bruising against the railing as he held you in place. at the beach, with the tide lapping at your ankles, his fingers inside you under the stars. in the backseat of your car, windows fogged up, your panties hanging from the rearview mirror by the time you were done. and then there was his office.
soobin was the editor-in-chief of one of the most renowned publishing houses in the country. prestigious, respected, calm under pressure. nobody would suspect that the man in that pristine tailored suit spent half of his lunch breaks buried between your thighs.
it always started the same way.
you’d text him something simple—are you free to eat together today?—and he’d reply with a time. never a word more than needed, not over messages. he liked it clean on the outside. so you’d walk into the lobby with your bag in one hand and a shy smile on your lips, nodding politely at the receptionist, who recognized you instantly. she’d give you that usual knowing glance, and you’d just giggle to yourself, acting like you weren’t about to get wrecked on the top floor.
his office was spacious, framed by tall windows and lined with bookshelves. his desk was always organized, the glass surface spotless—until you came in. the second he locked the door behind you, he turned into someone else entirely.
“took you long enough,” he murmured that day, voice thick with restraint as he pulled you in by the wrist.
“you said twelve-thirty,” you teased, your breath catching as he pressed you against the inside of the door, lips brushing your throat. “i’m right on time.”
“mm,” he hummed, dragging your coat from your shoulders with one hand, the other already slipping beneath your skirt. “that’s cute. thinking you get to play innocent.”
you gasped when his fingers met your bare heat, your thighs already sticky, aching, pulsing for him.
“no panties?” he chuckled darkly, dipping a finger between your folds. “what would the board say if they knew their editor’s wife walked into the building dripping like this?”
“they’d say it’s your fault,” you whispered, tilting your head to give him more access, already trembling when he started circling your clit slowly. “you make me like this.”
“that’s right,” he growled.
he dragged you away from the door, lifting you effortlessly onto his desk, scattering a few papers in the process. he shoved your skirt up to your hips, kneeling between your legs without hesitation. the cold glass pressed against your skin, contrasting the warmth of his breath as he kissed your inner thighs, teasing, licking, biting. then his tongue found your center, and you arched your back with a broken moan, one hand flying to grip the edge of the desk while the other threaded through his dark hair.
he always made you feel like this—unraveled, ruined, adored.
his tongue moved with practiced precision, licking you open as if you were his only purpose in life, savoring every twitch of your hips, every breathless cry. when your thighs started shaking, he pulled back just enough to whisper, “come on, baby. give it to me. i want to taste you.”
and you did. hard. moaning his name like a prayer, thighs clamping around his head as you came on his tongue.
he didn’t stop there.
before your body could recover, he stood up and unbuckled his belt with slow, deliberate movements, eyes locked on yours, filled with hunger. his cock was already hard, thick, leaking as he stroked it once, twice, while stepping closer. he didn’t ask. didn’t need to. you were already spreading your legs wider for him.
he slid into you in one smooth, deep thrust, swallowing your gasp with a kiss.
“fuck—” he breathed against your mouth, voice strained. “you’re so tight. always so good for me.”
you clung to him, arms around his neck, nails digging into his back through the fabric of his shirt. he fucked you slowly at first, savoring the way you clenched around him, the way you whimpered every time his hips rolled into yours. but it didn’t stay slow for long.
“you think i don’t know what you do?” he grunted, thrusting harder, faster, his desk creaking beneath the rhythm. “you walk in here all sweet and quiet, but you’re just begging to be used.”
“yes,” you cried, breathless. “yes, soobin—please, harder—”
he gave it to you.
his pace turned punishing, relentless, fucking you into the desk so hard you could barely think. you could hear your slickness every time he drove into you, could feel the tension coiling in your belly all over again, already close to a second climax.
he brought his hand between your bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit until your vision blurred, until your moans echoed through the room.
“come for me again,” he ordered, jaw clenched. “want to feel you squeeze me while i fill you up.”
you came again, harder this time, your whole body convulsing around him as you sobbed his name, and seconds later, he buried himself deep and groaned as he spilled inside you, warm and thick, making you gasp at the sensation.
neither of you moved for a while.
his forehead rested against yours, both of you panting, still trembling from the high. he kissed you softly, this time slower, gentler, like the man everyone else knew.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered with a smile.
“you started it,” you replied, smiling back.
he chuckled, pulling out with a groan, helping you adjust your clothes before tucking himself back in and fixing his tie like nothing happened.
you straightened your skirt, kissed his cheek, and headed for the door.
“same time tomorrow?” you teased.
his eyes darkened.
“count on it.”
people would say it was just the honeymoon phase. a spark that would eventually die out.
“give it a few months,” they said. “you’ll settle down. you’ll calm down.” but they didn’t know you. they didn’t know soobin.
because a year into your marriage, the fire hadn’t dulled—it had grown. hotter. deeper. more desperate.
you craved him constantly, and he wanted you like he needed you to breathe. it didn’t matter how many times he’d had you the night before—when morning came, his hands were already wandering beneath the sheets. sometimes you barely made it out of bed before he was fucking you into the mattress, your sleepy moans muffled by the pillow as he thrusted into you from behind. and when breakfast was over, when the dishes were still in the sink, he’d pull you onto the kitchen counter and eat you out until your legs went numb, just because he missed the taste.
when you both came home from work, it didn’t matter how exhausted you were—he always kissed you like it was the first time, always touched you like he’d been starving all day. in the shower, you’d grind against each other under the hot water until one of you caved. on the couch after dinner, he’d have you straddling his lap, his hands under your shirt, his cock pressed between your thighs. even when you were both tucked into bed, skin warm and clean, he’d still reach for you in the dark, whispering soft, filthy things against your shoulder until you were whimpering for him again.
sometimes, in the middle of the night, you’d wake up to find his hand already between your legs, his mouth on your chest, his cock hard and ready against your hip.
but nothing compared to how needy he got when you dressed up.
you’d gone to dinner with his parents that evening. the restaurant was elegant, quiet, candle-lit. you wore a dress he hadn’t seen before—tight, black, hugging your body like it was made for you. it stopped just above the knee, a subtle slit climbing up one thigh. you knew the second he saw you walk out of the bedroom that you were in trouble.
he didn’t touch you during dinner. not once. but his eyes never left you. his hand stayed clenched on his thigh under the table, his jaw tense, his smile too tight whenever someone complimented the way you looked.
and the second you stepped out of the restaurant and slid into the backseat of the car, he lost it.
you barely had time to buckle your seatbelt before he reached over and unfastened it again.
“soobin?” you blinked at him, surprised.
he didn’t answer. just climbed over you, slammed the door shut, and pushed you back against the seat, his lips crashing into yours like he’d been holding it in for hours.
“fuck,” he hissed against your mouth, his hands already tugging your dress up your thighs. “you wore this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“i thought it looked pretty,” you breathed, gasping when his fingers found the edge of your panties and yanked them down without hesitation.
“you looked like a fucking dream,” he growled, kissing down your neck, biting your shoulder through the strap of your dress. “do you know how hard it was to sit across from you and pretend i wasn’t dying to fuck you under the table?”
you moaned when his fingers slipped between your legs, already coated in your arousal.
“you’re so wet already,” he muttered, rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your clit. “does dressing like that for me turn you on, baby?”
“yes,” you whimpered. “you looked so good in that suit, hubby. wanted to jump you the whole time.”
he groaned, cock twitching in his slacks at the sound of the word.
“say that again.”
you bit your lip, arching your hips into his hand. “my sexy husband. my baby. always so handsome.”
“fuck, baby, i’m gonna ruin you,” he grunted, already undoing his belt, freeing his cock with a breathless hiss.
he was hard, thick, leaking, and you couldn’t help but reach out and wrap your hand around him, stroking him slowly while he growled under his breath.
“that’s it, sweetheart,” he rasped, grabbing your wrist and guiding you down onto the seat. “turn around. get on your knees for me.”
you obeyed, heart pounding, body trembling with need. the soft leather dug into your skin as you leaned forward, dress bunched up around your waist, bare for him.
he gripped your hips and shoved into you in one swift, brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt and making you cry out.
“god—soobin—!”
“shhh,” he murmured, leaning over your back, pressing kisses to your spine. “you want them to hear, baby? the valet’s still outside.”
you whimpered, biting your fist to muffle your sounds, and he started moving—deep, rough thrusts that had the entire car rocking.
he held your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he fucked you harder, faster, his cock slamming into your sweet spot over and over until tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
“mine,” he growled. “my pretty wife. you love this, don’t you? love getting fucked like this by your husband. so desperate for my cock you couldn’t wait till we got home.”
“yes—yes, please—don’t stop—”
he reached around to rub your clit, fast and messy, and you broke with a cry, your whole body convulsing as your orgasm crashed over you.
but he didn’t stop.
“so fucking tight when you come,” he panted, slamming into you harder, chasing his own release. “gonna fill you up, baby. you want that?”
“yes, hubby—fill me up, please—need you—”
he groaned, buried himself deep, and spilled inside you with a shudder, hot and thick, making you tremble all over again.
you collapsed onto the seat, both of you panting, his cum already dripping down your thighs.
after a few moments, he kissed your lower back and helped you fix your dress, his hands gentle, voice softer now.
“you okay, baby?”
“never better,” you whispered with a lazy smile, reaching back to squeeze his hand. “think your parents noticed we left too fast?”
he laughed, pulling you into his lap for a kiss.
“they probably think we’re still in the honeymoon phase.”
you grinned against his lips.
“good. let them.”
you didn’t always mean to take it that far.
sometimes, the need just crept up slowly—starting with a brush of hands, a glance too long, the way his voice dropped when he leaned in to whisper in your ear. but with soobin, it was never just harmless teasing. not when the fire between you burned this deep, this fast, this endlessly.
the worst was when you were supposed to behave.
you were at a gallery opening, invited as a couple by one of soobin’s publishing partners. the space was sleek, minimalist, dimly lit with soft instrumental music echoing through the marble hallways. guests murmured about brushstrokes and contrast, sipping champagne, admiring modern pieces as if they understood them. you should’ve been focused. polite. engaged.
but all you could think about was the way soobin’s hand kept pressing low against your back, the way his lips brushed your temple every time he leaned in to comment on a piece, the way he looked in that black turtleneck and tailored slacks—quiet, elegant, composed. and the way his cock pressed against his thigh when he caught you watching him with that soft, hungry gaze of yours.
you lasted an hour. maybe less.
“you look stunning,” he murmured while you both stood in front of an abstract canvas, his fingers ghosting over the inside of your wrist.
“so do you,” you whispered back, stepping closer.
“i can’t stop thinking about the way you looked last night.”
“baby,” you warned in a low voice, heart fluttering.
“i can’t stop thinking about how tight you were. how you moaned for me.”
you swallowed, thighs clenching.
so when he found a quiet corridor tucked behind the private wing of the gallery, with large velvet curtains shielding the entrance and barely any foot traffic, you didn’t even hesitate when he took your hand and pulled you in with him.
the space was dark and unused, some storage room filled with rolled canvases and crates, dimly lit by a dusty lamp on a side table. you barely had time to glance around before he pulled you onto his lap on an old velvet loveseat, your dress riding up your thighs as he guided you to straddle him.
“here?” you breathed, heart racing, but already grinding against him.
he cupped your ass and pulled you down flush against his cock. “shh, just for a little. i promise i’ll be quiet if you will.”
you kissed him hard, needing him more than you cared to admit.
you fumbled with his belt, both of you breathless, frantic, silent laughter shaking your shoulders as you tried not to giggle while exposing him in the middle of the damn gallery. when you finally pulled him free, hard and hot in your hand, you didn’t hesitate. you lifted your hips, pushed your soaked panties aside, and sank down onto him in one smooth, aching motion.
you bit your lip hard to keep from gasping, forehead falling to his shoulder as you took him in completely, your walls stretching, pulsing, wrapping around him perfectly.
“god, baby,” he whispered, voice trembling. “you’re always so tight for me. always so wet.”
“i missed you,” you whispered back, starting to move slowly, your hands gripping his shoulders as you rolled your hips in slow, fluid waves. “i know it’s only been a few hours but… i missed you so much.”
his hands slid beneath your dress, gripping your waist, guiding your rhythm, helping you ride him deeper, slower, harder. every time you rocked down, you could feel his cock hit that spot that made you tremble, made your eyes flutter shut.
his head fell back against the wall as he watched you move—so beautiful, flushed, glowing under the low light. his perfect wife, riding his cock like it was her god-given purpose.
“fuck,” he whispered, jaw tight. “you’re gonna make me come so fast like this, baby. you feel too good.”
you leaned in, kissing his lips sweetly before whispering into his mouth, “then come with me. come inside me, love. fill me up. again.”
he groaned, desperate now, thrusting up into you as you bounced on his lap, your movements sloppy and fast, your moans barely restrained against his neck. you were close—so close—the tension in your belly winding tight, heat blooming between your legs as you chased your second high of the day.
and then he grabbed your face gently with one hand, the other still gripping your ass, and looked at you with that softness that always broke you.
“i’ll never get tired of you,” he whispered. “never. not your voice, not your body, not your mouth, not your moans. i’ll crave you forever, baby.”
you whined, overwhelmed, heart racing, body trembling.
“i love you,” you breathed. “you know that, right? i love you so much, soobin.”
“i love you more,” he said, and then you both broke at the same time—his warmth filling you deep as your walls clenched around him, your cries caught in the hollow of his throat, your nails raking down his back as you trembled in his arms.
you stayed there for a while, still joined, breathing each other in, hearts beating fast and in sync. you nuzzled into his neck as he stroked your back slowly, reverently, his softening cock still buried inside you.
and in that quiet little hidden room, beneath dim lights and forgotten paintings, you both made a silent vow without needing to speak it aloud:
to never tire of each other. to never stop touching, loving, needing. to crave, devour, and worship until your last breath.
because this love—this madness—wasn't just passion. it was eternity. and you were both so, so willing to burn in it forever.
summary : as your game night with the boys reached an unusual peak in boredom, huening kai suggests a few rounds of the pepero game to get the dopamine pumping. however, what kai didn't consider was the several-month long crush that you had on soobin, and what you didn't consider was the fact that soobin would choose you as his partner. at the end of the night, when the tension is suffocating you and your mind is swirling with "what-if's," soobin offers to give you a ride home. you accept, not realizing in the moment just how mutual that tension was.
pairing : choi soobin x fem!reader
genre: friends to lovers, mutual pining, non-idol au, smut, fluff
wc : 7.8k
warnings : pwp (like 50-50), unprotected sex, oral + fingering (f receiving), some pet names (baby, honey), multiple orgasms, creampie, both reader and soobin are really horny but especially soobin <3
a/n : i haven't written smut in literal years so this was purely driven by how whipped i am for choi soobin <3 inspired by txt playing the pepero game bc it's been on my mind ever since that vid dropped. never been so jealous in my life.
txt masterlist .
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“how about the pepero game?” kai suggested, earning varying kinds of stares from the group.
for the last ten minutes or so, you and the boys had been bickering in kai’s living room about which game was next to tackle on your game night list.
you had already exhausted all the games kai had on his switch, as well as almost half the board games he found tucked away under his bed. you were on a roll, and had no means of stopping quite yet; but there was no remaining game that anyone could agree was exciting enough to satisfy your boredom.
that was until kai piped up amongst the chatter, anyway. taehyun gave him a blatantly disgusted look, his brows furrowed and his eyes widened slightly, while yeonjun and beomgyu immediately jumped at the idea with loud agreements and wide smiles. they had gotten a few drinks in them by now, it was only a matter of time before they got reckless.
you, however, were nervous. the point of the pepero game was to make the stick as short as possible, but the real reason people played it was just to see how close two people could get to kissing. that wasn’t exactly what made you so nervous, the thought of a near-kiss actually didn’t phase you. you saw your relationship with the guys as entirely platonic, nothing more than friends – at least, for all but one of them.
a few months ago you started developing some sort of feelings for soobin, a tall, handsome, and sweet character, and it’s only been growing and festering ever since. it started with small fleeting moments of adoration, just letting your gaze linger for an extra second or smiling softly when he entered a room.
you realized you might have felt something real for him when you anxiously wanted to be around him, even though your heart would pound if you got too close. eventually he became all you could think about, your thoughts filled with fantasies of what it would be like to feel his embrace, his lips on yours. to feel his one of his large hands on your hips, the other wrapped so firmly around your neck.
god. that’s why you were nervous – even with the slimmest chance that the two of you would be paired together, what would you even do? how were you supposed to control yourself?
you laughed along with the guys for now, but your gaze quietly shifted over to soobin, sitting quietly on the other side of the room.
your heart jumped.
your eyes met, and neither of you looked away.
at first, you were just testing him; trying to figure out if it was just a coincidence or you had caught him staring. you got your answer when his dark eyes didn’t flinch when you looked at him, his expression calm and composed even though you felt like your heart was about to leap right out of your chest.
you could only take so much before you looked away, turning your attention back to the rest of the group in a daze. why was he already staring at you? why did he look so calm? what was he thinking?
“then who wants to go first?”
yeonjun’s voice grounded you in reality again, your mind suddenly coming back into focus. you didn’t even notice how the some guys had joined you on the floor, sitting in a circle, or how kai had opened a couple of boxes of pepero, keeping one for the game while dispersing the others.
“we’ll go first.”
your eyes immediately flicked to soobin at the sound of his voice, your heart sinking deep into your chest as your eyes met once again. he took on of the sticks from kai’s hands, slowly standing from the couch and making his approach.
he chose you.
the loud cheers and and laughter that came from the rest of the group was drowned out by the onslaught of thoughts that came flooding into your mind. half of you was convinced that he would make it quick, only opting to have you as a partner since you were close, and probably more bearable to work with than anyone else.
at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel that nervousness settle back in. what you thought was a slim chance of happening was now becoming a reality, and you already felt the heat rising into your cheeks before he was even within two feet of you.
as he knelt down in front of you, his eyes never left yours. his expression was still serious at first, until his eyes flicked down to your cheeks. the corners of his lips tugged up into a small smile, and immediately you knew you were caught. you silently prayed that the other guys were too drunk to notice your embarrassed flush, too.
soobin lifted the stick in his hand to your mouth, his smile widening.
“here, take it.”
your heart fluttered, eyes never looking away from him as you silently obeyed. his hands reached out to gently grip your shoulders, his warm hands sliding ever so subtly up the sleeves of your t-shirt so that he was touching your skin.
“just go already. your score is gonna get beat anyway.” yeonjun chirped, but you were far to enveloped in soobin’s gaze to listen.
“i wanna take this seriously, actually. do you think i’m playing to lose?” soobin looked away from a moment, shooting a grin towards yeonjun before immediately turning back to you.
before anyone else could complain, soobin turned his head and slowly started biting down on the stick you were holding so tensely between your teeth, not being able to stop yourself from squeezing your eyes shut. you wished for something like this, maybe even dreamt about it.
his face mere centimeters away, large hands holding you still as he drew his lips closer to yours; but you didn’t want this. you wanted to be alone, to have him to yourself. you didn’t want anyone else to see how easily you lost yourself in his touch.
you felt the weight between your teeth become lighter and lighter, your heart pounding at the thought of just how close soobin would already be if you opened your eyes. but you kept them shut, hands clasped tightly in your lap as you desperately wished that you two were alone. you wished that he could stop being so polite and proper for the sake of the game, your desperation only getting worse as you felt soobin’s hot breath against your lips.
you thought maybe he would really do it, maybe he would close the distance and secretly wanted the same thing you did.
but you were sorely disappointed when his breath disappeared and he pulled away, your eyes opening wide as soon as he did. you watched as soobin held up the stick to the ruler in yeonjun’s hands, a proud expression washing over his features as he turned back towards you, hand shooting into the air.
“1.2 centimeters. not bad, right?” he beamed.
you agreed, suddenly breathless.
did he have any idea what he did to you?
that question haunted you for the rest of the night as the boys satisfied their dopamine craving with a couple more rounds of the pepero game, followed by a couple more rounds of drinks between yeonjun and beomgyu. it was only when they started getting out of hand that kai cut the night short, fearing for the cleanliness of his apartment, taehyun taking on the burden of driving them both home.
with taehyun now in charge of babysitting two drunk men and kai busy cleaning up the mess they left behind, you figured the best plan of action was just to call a taxi. you didn’t live far, so whatever the fee was wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to pay. as you stepped out of kai’s apartment building and into the street, however, a tall, familiar figure waited for you.
“y/n- you’re not actually gonna call a taxi, are you?” soobin’s eyes watched you carefully as they landed on you. the way you perceived those eyes, the way the looked at you and met yours so carefully, was utterly distorted now. all you could think of now when he looked at you was the way he stared you down earlier that night, holding the stick to your lips and shamelessly asking you to just take it.
“it’s no big deal, it’s not like i have to go that far.” even though you didn’t want to, you tore your eyes away from soobin, eyes searching the city streets instead.
“there’s not many drivers around at this hour, though. it’s cold, and it’s getting late.” you could feel soobin still watching you, the sound of his car keys jingling filling the otherwise quiet air.
“let me drive you home.”
you didn’t make any snappy movements. you didn’t flinch or flick your head up at the sound of his words. you just stared blankly at the other end of the street as your heart fluttered, head slowly turning up to finally look at him again.
“you don’t have to, really. you live in the other direction, anyway-”
“please. i insist.”
there was something different about the tone of his voice. something spilled out, something that was overflowing and threatening to unravel, even though he seemed to be doing such a good job with keeping it in check.
or maybe your delusions were getting the better of you. maybe your feelings for him were twisting reality, and you were starting to ignore the facts just to believe what you wanted.
logic was telling you that soobin had given you a ride home several times in the past, and this was just him worrying about you as your friend – but your feelings were telling you that this was a chance you couldn’t pass up.
“okay, okay.” you smiled, following him to his car. “let’s go.”
the first few minutes of the car ride were silent. not uncomfortably so, but part of you still felt tense, somehow. there was an inkling of a thought pacing back and forth in your head, making you wonder as you glanced over at soobin.
god, he was beautiful. the slight curve of his nose, his pouty lips, the pale glow on his skin. the way his jacket accentuated his shoulders, the way his hand so leisurely held the bottom of the steering wheel. if you focused hard enough, you could smell the faint scent of his cologne spreading through the air, filling your lungs and clouding your senses.
you wondered: were you really imagining things, or did he feel it too?
“i didn’t make you uncomfortable, did i?” soobin asked, glancing briefly at you. “during the pepero game.”
“no, not at all.” your mouth went a bit dry as you spoke, the question catching you off guard. “why do you ask?”
“you just seemed so tense. your cheeks were flushed and you were gripping your hands so tight your knuckles turned white. you know, you could’ve said no if you didn’t want to do it.” he chuckled lightly, but there was a sense of worry evident in his voice.
“oh, that?” you looked back out the window, mentally scolding yourself for making yourself so obvious. the worst part is that he interpreted your tension in the complete opposite way – you wanted it. in fact, you didn’t get nearly enough of it. if only the other guys weren’t watching it all happen, maybe you could have made that clearer.
“sorry, if that’s how it came across.” regaining your composure, you looked back over at soobin. “i was just nervous, that’s all. it kind of awkward doing that while everyone was watching, don’t you think?”
soobin grinned, letting out another light laugh, “definitely. but it was kind of fun, wasn’t it?”
you smiled to yourself, but couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread settle in your stomach. the way he talked about it was so casual, as if his breath against your lips and his hands so carefully holding your frame was a normal occurrence – but it wasn’t normal, not to you. didn’t he see that? didn’t he notice how hot he made you feel?
“soobin.” his name slipped out from your lips before you could even stop it. there was so much you wanted to say, and all the words you had been working so hard on keeping under wraps were threatening to burst right then and there.
he hummed in response, and from the corner of your eye you could see him periodically glancing over at you. he was waiting for you, like he was asking you to continue, and for some reason you wanted nothing more but to make it happen for him. you submit, each and every one of your secret thoughts beginning to spill out one by one, his gaze making you too weak to stop it.
“i was nervous, and it was because everyone was watching,” you paused, trying to swallow the dryness in your throat, “but i.. i wanted it, you know. i wanted to kiss you.”
the couple of seconds of silence that followed your words seemed to stretch out for hours. you could’ve sworn that you felt the air in the car shift, turning tense and heavy, the weight of it nearly suffocating you. your mouth opened as you rushed to reverse the damage, but the words died in your throat as soobin spoke up first.
“really?” he asked, though there was a certain softness to his words. there was a smile in his tone, and as you looked over at him, you could see how the corners of his mouth seemed to lift after your confession. it made your head spin.
“well-” originally, you were going to take it all back, snatch your words right out of the air and bury them somewhere not even you would remember; but that damn smile of his was urging you to keep going. “yeah, really. and you seemed so competitive that i thought maybe you would really do it, even if it was just for the game. but you pulled back last second.”
a few more seconds of silence, then soobin spoke again, “the guys wouldn’t have stopped talking about it if we did. i couldn’t do that to you.” he chuckled, and so did you. he had a point.
“but i was nervous, too. i think that’s why i ended up pulling back, it felt like my chest would explode if i didn’t. but i wanted it, too.”
..he wanted it, too?
the subtle beat of your heart started to pump harder within your chest, so excited by the mere words soobin was speaking that it flipped and turned every which way. your eyes didn’t turn away from him; they watched and studied his expression, and that’s when you caught it.
the pale red shade that rose into his cheeks, making him adjust himself in his seat and nervously fiddle with the steering wheel. he was just as nervous as you were.
your voice softened as you carefully tread the conversation, fearing that one wrong choice of words could shatter all the progress you’ve made.
“do you still want it?”
your eyes locked for a second, only a second, but that was enough to get a glance into him. you saw the way his eyes widened every so slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to ask such a question. but with the way that rosey flush spread into his ears, his mouth shifting as he bit the inside of his cheek, you could tell he liked it.
the car came to a slow as soobin skillfully pulled in front of your apartment building, one hand pulling off the wheel to put the car in park. finally, he looked over at you properly. the nearby streetlight shone through the windshield, illuminating his features perfectly. you could finally look into his eyes again, watching his gaze soften and seem to sparkle slightly in the light.
“even if i say yes, how will i get it?”
his question made your heart skip a beat. there was a shift in his tone; it became a bit curious, a bit suggestive. his eyes glanced between your eyes and your lips, and he didn’t seem even slightly ashamed when you caught him. you even noticed how he seemed to lean in just a bit closer, the scent of his cologne stronger. he wanted a certain answer from you, even if he didn’t say it.
and you were going to give it to him.
“can you stay for a bit?”
the walk to your apartment floor felt like it lasted hours, the thick tension between you two palpable. you weren’t rushing to leave the elevator or to grab your keys out of your bag to unlock your door, even though you felt like that was more appropriate than slowly and silently strolling through the hallways.
it was starting to drive you crazy – but then again, you would rather do this than do anything rash. what if he pushed back, what if he was scared away?
you pushed open the door to your apartment, soobin hovering behind you as you slid off your shoes and shrugged your coat off your shoulders. that was until, suddenly, your coat was properly lifted off your frame, your head spinning around to see soobin had taken it in his hands. he hung it on the hooks you had near your door, next to his.
but he never looked away from you. he looked at you in a similar way to earlier, in a way that nearly made your legs buckle beneath you. slowly, he approached you. your head gradually tilted up to meet his eyes, as his tilted down to meet yours.
one of his hands gently took hold of your shoulder, and you wondered if he could feel the goosebumps on your skin as he traced down your arm. he took your hand in his, while his other hand reached up to your face, gently cupping your cheek. he held you so gently, as if holding you too tightly would shatter your skin.
“is this okay?” his voice whispered into the dark, silent air. you nodded, and in response his face slowly started to draw closer to yours. unlike earlier, you didn’t close your eyes. your muscles didn’t tense and you didn’t squeeze your hands into tight fists. you watched him come closer and closer, until he stopped mere centimeters away from your face.
“this is where i stopped, during the game.” you could see a small smile grow over his features, as if he was proud. “you really want this?”
you chuckled at the fact he was even asking you that. you could feel his hot breath against your lips. the scent of his cologne flooded your senses, clouding your thoughts and dizzying your mind. you felt extra sensitive to his touch, even the slightest movement from him sending a chill down your spine. he was driving you crazy, and he didn’t even know it. that’s what made his question so ridiculous.
“more than anything.” you whispered, and his smile widened. he must have been playing with you, or he wouldn’t have looked so smug as he closed the gap between the two of you.
the feeling of his lips pressing against yours was like a sweet release, a weight being lifted off of your chest. you had wanted this for months, although they felt like years, and it was beyond anything you could have possibly imagined.
the taste of his lips was sweet, intoxicating you and getting you hooked on the flavor. he felt soft, almost fragile. he kissed you carefully, memorizing the way your lips danced and paying close attention when the rhythm changed. he leaned deeper into you, and you leaned back. your tongue grazed his teeth, and he granted you permission to enter.
without quite realizing it, the small entryway of your apartment became hot with the warmth radiating from your bodies. you felt it in your face, where soobin’s hands were touching, and especially where you wished he was touching.
the gentle kiss you two started with devolved into something hungry. needy. the hand soobin had been using to so carefully hold your face was now on the small of your back, pulling you close until there was no distance left between you.
your hands reached up from where they had been resting on soobin’s chest to instead tangle themselves in his hair. he kept leaning into you until you had no choice but to stumble back against your wall, and for a moment he pulled away. his hands moving to snake down your sides until they hooked under your thighs, lifting you up so effortlessly it sent a wave of heat straight to your core.
“where’s your room?”
his question practically knocked the wind out of you as you breathlessly answered:
“door on your right- there.”
you pointed to the door just ahead of your entry way, soobin following where your finger guided him. as he shoved the already ajar door completely open with his shoulder, he continued pressing deep kisses into your lips, the breathing between you two getting heavy and ragged.
within seconds you were being laid down onto your sheets, one of soobin’s hands supporting your back as the other pressed into the mattress, caging you in. you were waiting for him to lean down and allow you to intoxicate yourself with the taste of his lips, but for a few moments, he didn’t move. he merely hovered over you with half-lidded eyes and his pouty lips agape, waiting for something to say.
“i wanna do more than just kiss you, y/n. i want so much more..” he confessed, butterflies swirling in your stomach at his words. you knew by the lustful glint in his eyes that his intentions were sinful, naughty; but the way he spoke so softly felt so pure.
you almost felt giddy – if only that giddiness wasn’t being so loudly overtaken by a burning desire.
“i won’t stop you.” you whispered, your arms snaking around his neck as your hands found their way back his tousled hair, “i want it, soobin. i want you.”
it was only after your words that a switch seemed to flip in him, like the mutual desire between you too was finally understood. he let out a shaky exhale and dived into you, placing a kiss onto your jaw before latching onto your neck. you gasped at the sensation of sweet, gentle kisses being pressed into your skin, your neck craning to give him more space to work with.
“you smell so sweet.” he muttered between kisses, making you smile, “it’s driving me crazy.”
as soobin nipped at your neck, you did something you had been waiting so long to do: just touch him. your hands left his hair as they traced down his chest, sneakily making their way down to his waist. he was wearing a white, perfectly loose t-shirt, which gave you the perfect opportunity to slip your hands under the fabric, the ghostly touch of your fingertips barely grazing his skin. you felt him shiver, catching him gasp right beneath your ear.
but your movements didn’t stop him as his kisses got rougher, hungrier. devolving from soft and sweet pecks into starved sucking as he marked the space below your collarbone.
one of his hands slid down your waist, taking hold of the hem of your shirt and pulling it up.he pulled back, letting out a heavy breath as he pressed kisses on your chest, then your ribs, then your stomach – you were almost sure he would have been able to feel your heart pounding through his lips.
“soobin..” you mewled as you watched him lean back, eyes trained on your center as his fingers traced the waistline of your jeans.
you watched him undo the buttons and hook his thumbs around the waistline, pulling down your jeans in one single movement. his hands every so slightly pushed your thighs up, encouraging you to spread them open. you obeyed, although your cheeks burned with embarrassment at just the thought of how soaked you probably were.
“oh my god..” he practically groaned at the sight of you, his fingers laying flat against your pussy and sliding up. you whimpered in response, shocked at just how sensitive you felt to his touch. his eyes flicked up to you.
“you have no idea how bad i wanted this, baby.” his voice shifted into a husky tone as his body moved down, getting a pathetic whimper out of you. his arms hooked around your thighs as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, firm and decisive. his expression was almost desperate, his eyebrows turned up and his cheeks flushed, as if he was on his knees to start begging you for pleasure. it made your head spin.
as his hands grabbed and pulled at the hem of your panties, carefully yet quickly taking them off and discarding them, your legs practically shook with need. his hands held your thighs and spread you open, exposing you fully to him. mildly embarrassed, you turned away, averting your eyes from the lewd scene beneath you.
it was then you felt the warm, wet sensation of soobin’s tongue lick your slit from the bottom up, ending with a small peck against your sensitive clit. you breathed out a moan, your hands reaching up and taking hold of your sheets, as if to prepare for what was to come.
“eyes on me, honey.” he requested, and without even thinking you looked back at him, completely forgetting the bashfulness that overtook you a second ago. you nearly gasped at the view beneath you, how soobin’s gaze was wide and doe-eyed, staring so sweetly at you from between your thighs.
“there you go. want you to watch me, okay?” those words and the hint of his smile was enough to make you cum right then and there, but the dream of that was quickly cut off as soobin dove into you.
he tried to be patient, he really did. he started with shy licks and kisses, like he did on your neck, but it barely lasted a minute before he was sloppily lapping at your pussy. it was like he was thirsty for it, the way he thrusted his tongue between your folds and sucked at your clit.
“s-soobin, oh my god- fuck-“ you quickly unraveled into a moaning mess, knuckles turning white as you gripped the sheets and desperately tried to keep yourself still — but it was no use. you were squirming in his grasp, your hips shyly bucking into his face as the knot inside of you grew tighter.
“god- just like that, y/n. don’t stop.” soobin groaned into your cunt, as if he was getting off on it just as much as you were. using the brief moment of separation, two of his fingers brushed against your entrance before slowly sliding their way in. you both moaned at the sensation.
“you’re so tight-“ he practically whimpered, fingers thrusting at a steady pace right into a spot that made your back arch. “are you close, huh? you wanna cum all over my fingers, baby? can you do that for me?”
his senseless rambling into your cunt on in between his tongue lapping at your clit on top of his fingers keeping you full was making you see stars. this deep, burning desire that you had for soobin had been festering for so long, and the fact that it was finally being fulfilled was almost too much for you to handle. but even as your legs shook and you moaned shamelessly into the air, you wanted more. you needed more.
“i-i need-“ you gasped between your moans, your noise barely covering the sound of soobin sucking at your dripping cunt. your hips were moving completely on their own now, shame flying out the window as you slid up and down soobin’s tongue, “s-soobin, i’m gonna-“
“give it to me,” his groans sent vibrations up your body, making you tremble, “let it go baby, please. just give it to me.”
as if on command, the tight knot that had been stretching thin within your stomach snapped at his words, a blinding euphoria completely washing over your body. every limb, every muscle of yours shook with overwhelming pleasure, your entrance desperately tightening around soobin’s fingers as they slowed. he worked you carefully through your orgasm, pulling his mouth away to rub gentle circles on your clit.
“holy shit-” you breathed out, breathless as your eyes, previously squeezed shut, carefully opened. your vision gradually came into focus as a lightheadedness settled into your skull. you felt weak, your body limp against the mattress as you realized the sudden cramping in your fingers from so tightly holding onto your sheets. you had never experienced anything like that before.
but even as the orgasm soobin gave you with nothing but his mouth and fingers left you utterly stunned, your fantasies about him never stopped at foreplay. you needed more – and not only did you know it, but you could feel it.
the second soobin’s fingers carefully left your entrance, it was already begging for them to come back. it clasped and twitched around nothing, burning and pleading as it longed to be filled again. to be filled by him.
“god- i can’t wait-”
you gathered the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows as you looked down at where soobin had been kneeling, only to find he was already up on his feet. you felt a heat rush down your spine and fester at your core at the sight of him.
“you have no idea how bad i need you-” his words came out in breaths, “d’you even know how hot that was?”
he had already taken his t-shirt off, the subtle definition of his body practically glowing in the dim moonlight. his hands, still stained with your slick, anxiously fiddled with the buttons of his jeans before undoing them. even through the tight material of his jeans, there was an extremely evident tent in the fabric.
you felt your breath catch in your throat as he pulled down both his jeans and his boxers in one swift movement, his long, thick erection springing free.
soobin climbed onto the bed and resumed his position where he hung over you before, one hand by your side while the other slowly pumped his cock. you couldn’t help but watch as his thumb circled his flushed tip, barely able to catch the glisten of the pre-cum that he spread over the top of his shaft.
but the sight of his face made you just as hot. you met his eyes, and in an instant you recognized that you were seeing a completely different side of soobin. his face was flushed, eyes drowsy and half-open as if he was in a trance. soft pants escaped his open mouth every so often, his lips wet with a mix of your juices and his saliva.
he was needy. just as needy as you.
“do you have any condoms? where are they?” the words rushed out of his mouth, like anything that wasn’t fucking you was just a waste of time. you would have laughed if your mind wasn’t so overridden by desire.
“just forget that-” your tone hinted at a whine as your hips wiggled beneath him, your legs moving up to loosely wrap around his waist. you barely pulled him in, but you could already feel the tip of his cock brushing against your clit. you shivered at the sensation.
“wait, y/n, are you-”
“it’s okay, i promise,” you felt your heart pound in your chest, your core tighten and squeeze. your hands moved up into his hair again, your hands tangling in his locks. “just put it in binnie, please? i can’t wait either..”
although he looked like he had something he wanted to say, his hips responded first. he pushed his length against the lips of your pussy, not to enter, but just to slide up and down the wetness of it. you whimpered at the action, a combination of both impatience and sensitivity from your orgasm making you dizzy with need.
“i’m not gonna go slow. i can’t.” he said, the words phrased as a rule. a non-negotiable. “you okay with me being rough? sure you can take it?”
you rapidly nodded, biting back the pathetic sounds you so desperately wanted to make at the feeling of his length against your heat.
“tell me, baby.” he whined, “can you take it?”
your throat went dry.
“yes,” you breathed, “i can take it.”
a dazed, lazy smile spread over his features.
soobin leaned back, his large hands sliding up the back of your thighs as he spread you open wider, his eyes glued to where the two of you met. his brows furrowed and his mouth let out soft breaths as he slid over your clit just a couple more times, before pushing firmly into the heat of your entrance.
you moan in unison as just a portion of your desires are finally met, and you swear for a moment you saw stars. you could feel how tight you were around him, the massive size of him making you unbelievably full.
“fuck..” soobin let out a drawn out moan as he bottomed out inside of you, fingers pressing deep into the soft skin of your thighs. he already started to grind into you, your walls sucking him in each time he dared pull back.
“you don’t know how bad i wanted this, y/n..” he said, your heart jumping at his words. for just a moment, you debated what he said. you were shocked at the implication that he wanted this for longer than just a moment, making you wonder just how long the two of you waited before satiating a now mutual hunger.
but you couldn’t think about that too deeply yet – not when you could barely speak, let alone think about anything else but the delicious feeling of soobin steadily pounding into your burning cunt. not when the only thing that left your mouth was high-pitched moans and needy whines, occasionally interrupted by whispered swears.
you had been waiting for, dreaming, of this moment, and you were going to lavish in it.
the steady pace that soobin started at rapidly devolved into fast, desperate movements. his hips would pull almost all the way back, leaving you with nothing but the head of his cock before slamming right back into you.
he moved at a relentless pace, the lewd, merciless sound of skin slapping against skin leaving no room in the air for silence. the only thing competing with its volume was the sound of your own moans, shameless and explicit.
and amidst it all, soobin’s eyes never left yours, his head tilted to the side as he watched you fall apart beneath him. watching as your hands reached out and pawed at the skin of his arms, studying how your eyes briefly rolled back every time he hit the sweetest part of you; but, strangely, it didn’t feel like you were just being observed. you were being admired. idolized. worshipped.
“you look so pretty like this.” soobin cooed breathlessly, “so so pretty.. and so wet for me- so wet and so fucking tight-“
“soobin-“ all you could think to do was cry out his name in response. while you both seemed utterly drunk on the feeling of each other, soobin had been mindlessly rambling ever since he got the chance to touch you, while you couldn’t put together a proper sentence for the life of you.
it felt so good, almost too good, as tears stung the corners of your eyes and that euphoric tension tightened inside of you again with a vengeance. it didn’t help that all the words you tried to say to convey that message only came spewing out as fucked-out nonsense.
“you okay, baby? not too much for you, right?” soobin suddenly asked, a hint of concern in his voice despite the reckless speed of his hips slamming against yours. it didn’t seem like he could stop, even if he wanted to.
you anxiously shook your head. “n-no, please, don’t stop-“ you managed to choke out, your fingers wrapping around his forearms and tugging him towards you. he understood, leaning down and pushing your knees close to your chest with his arms in order to close the gap between the two of you.
the new angle made you see stars, and if soobin hadn’t pressed his lips passionately into yours, you knew it would have enough to rip a cry out of you.
he shoved his tongue between your lips as he rushed to get a taste of you, the quiet murmur of your mutual moaning getting muffled by it. you surrendered completely to him, letting him bite at your lips and tangle his hands into your hair.
although you succumbed to him, however, your entire body remained tense. every muscle in your body squeezed tight, especially where it was wrapped around soobin’s length. your moans became more high-pitched and whiny, your breaths in-between more ragged. your hands had found their place on soobin’s back, desperately clawing and dragging against his skin.
“i-i’m gonna fucking cum, soobin-” you mewled as soobin pulled back, resuming his previous position to tower over you, your legs spread open so obediently for him. “don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop- please don’t stop-”
your hurried blabber only encouraged soobin, each one of his thrusts hitting the deepest parts of you with a fiery passion. each one told you that nothing would be better than this. that you were ruined for any other man. that you were his.
“go ahead, baby, ‘s okay..” he said, speaking with a softness, “let me see you fall apart all over me.”
at his request, your second orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. it was twice as intense, euphoria repeatedly striking you directly at your core before sending shockwaves down your body. you threw your head back into the pillows, stars scattered across your vision as a lewd, pornographic moan ripped from your throat. the sensation of your orgasm rippled around soobin’s cock, forcing him to breath out a drawn out moan and string of whispered curses.
“just like that, honey,” soobin’s moaned from over you, “so good.. so, so good..”
while the orgasm itself hit you twice as hard, it felt like the aftermath exhausted you ten times as much. you couldn’t control the way your legs shook in soobin’s grasp, or the way your chest steadily rose and fell in an attempt to catch your breath.
but coming down from such a high proved impossible as soobin continued to hammer into you, his pace only slowing when your orgasm made it too difficult to move.
“s-soo.. bin- wait- ‘s too much!” you cried out to him, watching through the blurry lens of your vision as he so mercilessly pounded your sensitive cunt.
“i know baby, i know..” he panted, “‘m sorry, i can’t stop- til your pussy’s stuffed full, i can’t stop-”
you were so spent already. every inch of your skin was covered in a thin film of sweat, your heart thundered relentlessly in your chest, and there was a thick scent of sex filling the air of your room. your legs felt so limp that you could barely feel them at all, the sweet sting of where soobin had dug his fingers into being the only reminder. and your head – you could have sworn that you were dreaming based on how lightheaded the rapid sense of overstimulation made you.
but, despite that, you didn’t dare stop him. you didn’t push him away or beg for a break – you laid there and took it. you let tears gather in your eyes, overstimulation wracking your body as your limbs quivered and pussy ached around soobin’s cock.
your hands found their place in your sheets once more, tightening and gripping onto the fabric as if it was somehow going to save you. and your voice, raw and ruined, knew nothing but the feeling of soobin’s name being ripped from your throat.
and he fucking loved it.
“you’re so hot, y/n, so fucking beautiful. d’you even know what you do to me? how long i wanted to pound your pretty pussy like this?” as soobin rambled on, his voice gradually became more out of breath, more desperate. his moans became whiny, high-pitched.
“needed you so bad it was driving me crazy- but you needed it too, huh, baby? did’ya wanna get pounded like this?”
his words made your head spin, a fresh wave of desire washing over your body and sending heat rushing to all the right places. he loved how he took you apart piece by piece, and you loved seeing how drunk he got on it.
“i-i needed it so bad, you have no f- fucking idea-” you cried, “it f-feels so good-”
his thrusts started to get sloppy, losing the ruthless rhythm he had started with. he fell to his elbows, his hands snaking up your arms and peeling your fingers away from the bedsheets. his hands intertwined with yours, holding your shaking frame against the mattress.
“y/n-” soobin’s lips hovered over yours, barely able to feel his hot breath against your skin, “lemme fill you up, huh? you want it? want me to fill you up nice ‘n full?”
“p-please- give it to me, binnie. want your cum-”
as if your permission was the trigger, soobin only lasted a few more thrusts before he bottomed out inside you with a high-pitched groan, the feeling of his warm seed instantly settling into your core. the feeling of it, however, was just as much of a trigger for you, your third orgasm of the night hitting you before you could even prepare for it – and all you could do was lay there and let it.
you pressed the knuckles of soobin’s hand – which were still intertwined with yours – against your lips, barely containing any of your pathetic whimpers and moans that your ruined orgasm forced out of you. your legs squeezed around soobin’s waist in an attempt to keep still, but there was no use against the sensitivity that overtook your body.
soobin, who had buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathed out a string of soft yet forceful moans, his stilled cock still twitching within your sensitive walls. every now and then his body shook, waves of pleasure shocking his body almost perfectly in sync with you, your orgasm no doubt heightening his own.
for a few moments, the two of you laid there; breathless, sensitive, unmoving. the silence that followed one of the loudest nights of your life was one of comfort. it wasn’t weird or awkward, like you almost expected it to be, but relaxing. like you finally felt a sense of relief after the past several months of undisturbed tension.
but the stillness of the room only lasted so long, soobin being the first to move. with a sharp wince he slowly pulled out of you, his cock carefully dragging through the walls of your throbbing pussy. even as spent as you were, you missed the full feeling.
he lifted his head up, but only enough to look you in the eyes again. he studied you carefully, his gaze scanning over every detail of your expression until you realized the way it made your heart pound. his hand reached up, and you didn’t dare move as his fingers so gently brushed some sweat-soaked strands of hair out of your face.
“i meant what i said. you’re so beautiful.” he said, his voice suddenly lowered to a whisper.
you laughed at his words, your voice coming out hoarse. “really?”
“really. seriously.”
you swallowed down the dry feeling in your throat, carefully picking out the words for a question you dreaded.
“did you mean it when you said you wanted me, too? when you said how long you wanted me for?” your voice shrank, “or did you just want sex?”
the question clearly caught soobin off guard as his eyes widened, the hand still intertwined with yours tightening slightly.
“what? y/n, are you serious?” a light chuckle escaped his lips, but he knew by reading your expression that the question was genuine. his free hand reached up and cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin.
“i like you. and it’s for so many more reasons other than sex.” he confessed carefully, “for so long i wanted you all to myself – and i mean it, when i say it.”
you felt butterflies swarm your stomach at his words, unable to hide the smile that spread over your features. you lean into the touch of his hand, partially hiding your face in it at the sudden shyness that came over you.
but in response, soobin turned your face to look right back at him, emphasizing the impact of his words with yet another kiss. this one was similar to the way the night started, with soft presses and sweet touches. you felt him smile into the kiss, and you smiled back, a powerful wave of sheer joy swelling in your chest. you felt complete.
soobin’s gentle smile beamed down at you as he pulled back, shy giggles being shared between the two of you.
“so.. does this make us official?” you asked bashfully, to which soobin responded with the soft drag of his hand, his fingers tracing down your chest and to your waist.
“well i’d hope so.” he grinned, moving to press a kiss onto your neck, “no way am i letting you go to anyone else. you’re all mine.”
as soobin enveloped you in his touch, his arms pulling back to snake around your waist and pull you into a warm embrace, he moved to lay on his side, properly able to pull you into his chest. your arms wrapped around his neck, your hands rubbing gentle circles onto the marks you left in his back earlier, and you could feel him relax just as much.
“i thought it was a stupid idea at first, but it’s good kai picked the pepero game, huh?” soobin muttered against your shoulder.
you grinned, “yeah, but it was only a matter of time until i got you to myself. i would’ve gone crazy if i didn’t.”
soobin chuckled into your skin, pressing on another kiss, “me too.”
within moments, as if you two had been doing it all your lives, you settled into each others warmth. an intimate silence filled the air as you laid there, the tense centimeters of distance that you had dealt with just hours ago finally being absolved into nothing.
god- if you had known then that this was how a round of the pepero game would end, you would’ve played it way sooner.
GAMER!SOOBIN HEADCANON 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 dating a man who’s obsessed over you and league of legends is probably the best thing that’s happened to you. smut 18+
gamer!soobin who fucks you harder each night every time he loses a ranked game of league of legends.
gamer!soobin who “loses” matches on purpose just to hear you whimper whenever he carries you and pins you down onto the bed as punishment
gamer!soobin where you have to disconnect the wifi entirely so he pays attention to you, but he doesn’t complain.
gamer!soobin who lets you dryhump him, suck him off, play with his dick—whatever you want to do—while he’s on the game. he has to turn off his mic every other game because his moans are so loud, you two aren’t sure how you haven’t gotten a noise complaint.
gamer!soobin who only unplugs his headset when you ride him in silence. he loves hearing your sweet wet noises against him, how hard you clench around him when you try to suppress your moans against his neck.
gamer!soobin who turns off his mic when you’re sucking him off, and when you’re done, his teammates wonder why he suddenly sounds so wrecked mid-match
gamer!soobin whose bed is always unmade because he can’t wait five seconds to pull your clothes off before climbing over you.
gamer!soobin whose hands roam your thighs during ranked matches, fingertips pressing just hard enough to leave marks later—how much he loves when you squirm when he digs in too deep.
gamer!soobin who loves to finger you like CRAZY. especially with those big veiny hands of his. he likes to hear you cry, get overstimulated, and whimper his name while he’s marking you all over
gamer!soobin whose fingers slide into your pussy before he even finishes a match. he likes it when his mechanical keyboard gets messy all over with your fluids.
gamer!soobin who makes you cum on command just so he can hear the way his name flutters on your tongue during his ranked games.
gamer!soobin whose sweatpants are always tented because you keep teasing him while he’s trying to focus on clutching a 1v5.
gamer!soobin who leaves hickeys along your collarbone just so his teammates can slightly hear you gasp every time they ping for help.
gamer!soobin who keeps a stash of lube in his drawer, right next to his set up just in case inspiration strikes you mid-queue
gamer!soobin who always tells his friends he needs a bathroom break, knowing that he only called it because he wanted to do a quickie with you.
gamer!soobin who eventually stopped getting on as often to focus on pumping his fingers in and out of you to stretch you wide enough for his size. taehyun texts him every night asking when he’s going to get on, but he’s way too busy with you to answer.
gamer!soobin whose bought three different bed frames since you guys started dating, each one louder and flimsier than the last.
gamer!soobin who overstimulates you because you squirt all over his fingers before he can even get inside of you. he loves to get his fingers soaked, and christ—you can barely even handle two.
warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some
wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)
an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]
this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics!
[dumdum m.list]
"whats your favorite scary movie?"
You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?”
It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.
“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,”
“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,”
“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,”
“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin.
“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-”
“Huening,” yeonjun warns.
“I'm just saying…”
Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp.
“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed.
The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman.
It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work.
“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?”
“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class.
“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden.
“No-”
beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,”
“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead.
“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen.
“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight.
“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark.
“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?”
“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,”
“So wrong it would get you killed?”
“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,”
“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand.
“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,”
“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently.
“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,”
“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,”
“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,”
“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair.
“Past it, i didn't pause on it,”
“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,”
“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed.
“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes.
“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place.
“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens.
“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles.
“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.
Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising.
“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”
Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,”
It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.
All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door.
As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes.
“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group.
beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”
“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye.
“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk.
Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud.
You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path.
“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon.
“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from.
“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?”
“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,”
“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.
“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,”
“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…”
“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out.
“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,”
“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?”
“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,”
A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?”
“Next week?”
It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived.
You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure.
Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on.
The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat.
“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.
“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open.
“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him.
As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen.
“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,”
“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,”
“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is.
“They come out here to check too?”
“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,”
“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,”
He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,”
Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn.
“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,”
“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,”
“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy.
“It's a good thing for us now i guess,”
It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,”
It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed.
He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up.
You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his.
The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.
The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other. You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs.
He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing.
every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked.
“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that.
You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit.
It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?”
Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,”
it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?”
“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs.
You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn.
Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag.
You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence.
“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs.
No response.
The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them.
In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame.
The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone.
Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it.
“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone.
“What's your favorite scary movie?”
You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,”
You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”
“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?”
He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?”
“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it.
“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it.
“They don't?”
“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,”
“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen.
“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?”
“I'm not alone, i have you,”
He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,”
“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,”
“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,”
“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.
Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,”
You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago.
“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two.
You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke.
“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?”
You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window.
He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?”
“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway.
Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move.
You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!”
The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-”
“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart.
“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face.
“I know where one is, if you want it,”
It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell.
The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door.
You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks.
As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,”
You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock.
But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him.
The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it.
“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,”
It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,”
“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back.
Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,”
You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”
he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,”
“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at.
“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail.
Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back.
You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue.
“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,”
It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,”
“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.
“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine.
Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch.
Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground.
“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into.
Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum.
Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?”
“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,”
yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,”
Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from.
But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you.
“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question.
“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film.
“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him.
“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth.
You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound.
Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him.
The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”
“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,”
Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?”
The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot.
Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot.
Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,”
You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away.
“No huening please!”
“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response.
“Kai…please!”
“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss.
“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you.
“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,”
“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon.
“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out.
Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up.
It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,”
But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days.
When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust.
His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-”
“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies.
It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings.
“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,”
You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?”
You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out.
“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds.
“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,”
need a soft Soobin X reader where reader keeps trying to confess to soobin but he's just so oblivious, the only way he gets it is when reader uses a LoL couple as her final pick up line
"will you be the Rakan to my Xayah???"
"??? YOU WANT TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND??"
"THATS WHAT IVE BEEN TRYING TO SAY THIS ENTIRE WEEK"
“𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒” 𝜗℘ 𝐂𝐒𝐁.
𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𓈒 oblivious!sb X fem!reader 1k+ words fluff
ᝰ.ᐟ just sb not getting the hints skinship corny idk
𝜗𝜚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ៹ Had to do my research for this one cause i have never touched LoL in my life ! Tysm for requesting, anon !! Mwa 🤍. We love gamer soob . Pls lmk if I got any of the terms n stuff wrong- (the reviving was moreso for the cheesy lines to fit)
You used to think that crushes felt like fireworks — sudden, bright, impossible to ignore.
But falling for Choi Soobin felt more like sunrise.
It happened slowly, quietly, the way light creeps through blinds on a lazy morning until the whole room glows and you can’t remember what it looked like before.
It started with small things.
The way he always waited for you outside lecture halls, earbuds dangling around his neck, one hand tucked into his hoodie pocket. The way he texted you “did you eat yet?” after study sessions like some kind of gentle ritual. The way he listened — really listened — whenever you talked, even when you were rambling about random nonsense.
You told yourself it was nothing at first. Just friendship. Just comfort.
But one day, he smiled at you — soft, eyes curving into crescents — and something in your chest fluttered so hard you almost dropped your coffee. That’s when you knew you were in trouble.
It became your little secret.
Between group projects and campus walks, between late-night gaming and bubble tea runs, you found yourself studying the tiny details of him — the way he laughed with his whole body, the way he fiddled with his pen during class, the faint crease on his nose when he smiled too hard.
It was so obvious to you.
Too bad it wasn’t obvious to him.
Soobin, for all his kindness and height and angelic dimples, was painfully oblivious.
He wasn’t stupid — he just existed in this perpetual state of mild distraction, floating through life like a golden retriever who’d never experienced subtlety.
The first time you tried to confess, it wasn’t even planned.
You were waiting in line for drinks at the campus café, his bag slung over your shoulder because he’d run back to grab his wallet. When he finally returned, slightly out of breath and still smiling, you handed him his cup and blurted,
“You make my heart pop… Like the pearls in this… The boba pearls.”
Soobin blinked, tilting his head. “That’s so cute,” he said, sipping from his straw. “You always say the funniest things.”
You stared at him, speechless. “I— yeah. Funny. Totally.”
He grinned, satisfied, and went back to talking about his LoL rank while you stood there wondering how the universe could bless someone with a face that beautiful and a brain that empty.
Over the next few days, your attempts became more deliberate.
A note slipped into his notebook (“you make everything sweeter”).
A text after your study date (“I like you a latte ☕”).
Even giving him your hoodie, not that he could fit it (“it smells like me, so you won’t miss me later”).
Each time, he smiled — genuinely, warmly — and responded with the wrong kind of affection.
“You’re such a good friend.”
“Aw, thanks, you’re the nicest.”
“You always take care of me.”
Friend.
Nice.
Take care.
Every word felt like another soft punch to the ribs.
But still, you couldn’t stop trying. Because he made it so easy to love him, even when it hurt.
The turning point came on a rainy Thursday evening.
You were in his dorm room, half-buried under a blanket, both of you playing League of Legends together. The sound of rain against the window mixed with Soobin’s quiet laughter every time your characters died in spectacular fashion.
“Okay, but you have to admit,” he said between laughs, “that was the worst ult timing I’ve ever seen.”
You threw a pillow at him. “You distracted me!”
“I literally said, ‘don’t engage yet!’”
“You smiled! How am I supposed to focus when you do that?”
He blinked, surprised, then chuckled. “I didn’t realize my face was that powerful.”
“It is..” you muttered, but your voice came out softer than intended.
He didn’t hear. Or maybe he did and pretended not to. That was the thing with Soobin — he never noticed the weight behind your words, but part of you wondered if maybe that’s what made him so easy to be around.
No pressure. No expectations. Just… him.
It was around midnight when the power flickered.
The rain had turned heavier, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The Wi-Fi died mid-game, leaving your characters frozen on screen.
Soobin sighed dramatically. “Guess that’s the universe telling me to stop feeding.”
You laughed, curling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “It’s telling you to get better at aiming, maybe.”
“Hey,” he said, feigning offense, “I’m a great Rakan.”
“Sure,” you teased. “If dying in every team fight counts as ‘great.’”
He leaned back in his chair, smiling at you through the dim light. “Then what does that make you, huh?”
“Better,” you said simply. “Carrying you since day one.”
He laughed, a soft, deep sound that filled the little room. You tried not to stare at the way his hair fell over his forehead or how the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled.
He had no idea that every moment with him felt like the calm before something inevitable.
The room grew quieter after that. Just rain, and the low hum of your heart doing cartwheels.
“Soobin,” you said suddenly.
“Hm?”
You hesitated. The words hovered at the tip of your tongue, too big to swallow but too terrifying to release.
You’d failed a dozen times already, and yet here you were, ready to try again — not because you thought it would work this time, but because you couldn’t keep it in anymore.
You wanted him to know. Even if he didn’t feel the same.
You took a breath, fingers fidgeting with the blanket’s edge.
“If I said something kind of weird, would you promise not to laugh?”
He turned to look at you, earnest and curious. “Of course. Why would I laugh?”
Your throat felt tight. “Because it’s… sort of dorky.”
He smiled, gentle as always. “That’s okay. You’re sort of dorky.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your nerves. “Okay, then.”
You looked straight at him, your heart hammering like a drum, and said,
“Will you be the Rakan to my Xayah?”
For a second, he didn’t react. His eyes flicked between you and the screen, clearly processing the reference.
Then, slowly: “…Wait.” His brows furrowed. “You mean—”
You felt your face heat up. “Yes, Soobin. That’s what I mean.”
He blinked again, realization dawning like light breaking through clouds. “You— you want to be my girlfriend?”
You buried your face in your hands. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say this entire week, Soobin.”
There was silence. Then a soft, almost disbelieving laugh.
He sounded so genuinely stunned that you couldn’t help peeking through your fingers. His expression was a mix of awe and embarrassment, his cheeks flushed pink.
“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” he murmured. “All those hints— I thought you were just teasing me.”
“I was teasing you,” you said. “And flirting. And hinting. And practically spelling it out.”
He laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck. “I guess I’m a little slow sometimes.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes?”
“Okay, a lot of the time,” he admitted. Then, softer: “But if it’s still okay… yeah. I’d like to be your Rakan.”
Your heart fluttered so hard you almost forgot to breathe. “You sure? I’m not exactly a pro gamer, you know.”
He smiled, eyes warm. “That’s fine. I’m not exactly a pro boyfriend yet either.”
Something about the word yet made you grin.
He reached out, hesitated for half a second, then brushed his fingers against yours. The touch was light, tentative — the kind of touch that says I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.
Outside, the rain softened to a drizzle. Inside, the tension melted into something sweet and easy.
You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling him relax beside you.
“So,” you murmured, “does this mean I get to trash talk you in-game without feeling guilty now?”
He chuckled, tilting his head so it rested lightly against yours. “Only if you promise to revive me when I die.”
“Deal,” you said, smiling. “But you better not feed.”
He laughed again, that soft sound that had started it all. “I’ll do my best, Xayah.”
And when the Wi-Fi reconnected and your characters spawned back into the digital battlefield, Soobin hovered over Rakan and locked him in immediately — a quiet promise glowing in the flicker of his monitor light.
Maybe love wasn’t fireworks after all.
Maybe it was something slower — something that started with laughter, with friendship, with a boy who didn’t get the hint until you told him outright.
And maybe that was exactly what made it so perfect.
