❪ 永遠に光れ ❫ fluff comfort est. rs taehyun x f!reader 707 cw ノ periods symptoms (hormonal) and cramping mention, crying, not proofread 〃 @starryterry ⸝⸝⸝ just know tae would be the sweetest while ur on ur period and he is such an attentive and acts of service type of boyfriend :( / 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄
All it takes is Taehyun making eye contact with you after he walks in the door for you to burst it into tears.
You're not crying because he didn't kiss you before he left for work, or because you haven't seen him in twelve hours, or even because of the petty argument that kept circling in your head the hours he was gone. The reason for your tears is ridiculous.
Taehyun looks incredibly cuddly, but you're not sure you can tolerate anyone touching you right now. That is what tips your emotions over to their breaking point. Your body wants him closer while your mind screams at the thought.
How cruel is it that you would get your period on one of Taehyun's longest work days? You don't have the energy to greet him at the door like usual. You can't surprise him with a delicious dinner or a spontaneous date. The only sight he's greeted with when he comes home is you in your pyjamas fighting off how overwhelmingly miserable everything feels right now.
He must be exhausted too, but he still smiles at you.
That makes it even worse, because god, Taehyun has always been too good for you. At least, that's the thought your brain takes absolutely no time in jumping to.
"What's wrong?" his voice is soft and sweet. He's still smiling as he sets his bags down and finds his way to the couch you've been lying on for the past two hours. He doesn't seem concerned at the sight of your tears, as if he can tell they aren't indicative of anything horrible happening right now.
You think Taehyun must have some magical ability to know exactly what you're emotions mean. At a glance he can always tell whether your frustration stems from something he did or something so far removed from you both; whether your tears have just come on spontaneously because of your hormones or whether it's more serious. Taehyun always reads you like it takes no effort at all.
"Do you want me to touch you right now?" comes Taehyun's next question. It's patient and non-judgemental towards whatever your answer might be. Your stomach twists when you look at him. The earlier repulsive feeling that the thought of being touched had surged up dissipates with one look, as if your mind and body are realizing who is standing before you.
"Please hold me," you tell him after a moment. He doesn't hesitate in pulling you into his arms, wiping your cheeks with his hands and wrapping you safely against his chest. It feels like instant relief—and not just for you.
It isn't a secret how much Taehyun misses you during lengthy work days. The longing lives in his eyes, clear to anyone who knows the look of it. He knows you started your period today. He has a tracker for it on his phone. Even when you don't tell him, he knows.
They've been more strenuous on you lately, combining with outside stress factors and your body deciding to wage war on you. Lighter flow, but heavier cramps that last multiple days. You're sick of it. Taehyun wishes he could fight it off for you. Unfortunately, he's powerless in this situation.
"Did you warm up your heat pack?" he asks, rubbing your back up and down. You shake your head against his chest, face buried against his hoodie.
"I'll get it for you," he offers, starting to pull away. You cling to his hoodie firmly and tug him back as forcefully as you can. He smiles.
"No? I can't take care of you if I can't get up, sweetheart. My hug does nothing to help your cramps."
"It does help," you insist. Taehyun could argue that from a scientific perspective, him holding you does nothing to relieve the pain. You could argue back that from a psychological standpoint, his hug does much more than a heat pack ever would. You would both be right, and as usual, you would win the argument easily.
Taehyun stays on the couch with you half lying on top of him. Despite your cramps, it's the most comfortable you've felt all day. There is nowhere you feel safer than in his arms.
pairings: Taehyun x fem!reader
summary: Training with your best friend’s brother was supposed to be harmless. You having a crush on him since high school wouldn't make a difference, right?
word count: 7.5K
tags: smut, lots of teasing, taehyun is lowkey a little shit
warnings: dom!taehyun, sub!reader, fingering, unprotective sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, pet names (pretty, princess, baby), overstimulation, manhandling, power play, mild degradation, creampie, scratching, confident!taehyun, (barely proofread)
a/n: I had so much fun writing this, and it all started bc of that one video of taehyun arm-wrestling with that moa looking all unbothered like fuckkkk
Masterlist
“I need a summer body before the actual summer hits,” you whined, head tipping back against the cushion. “Right now, I feel like a soft peach—but not the cute kind. More like the slowly rotting one forgotten at the bottom of a—”
“Y/n,” Seoyun snorted, “You are cute! You don’t need to change anything.”
You and your best friend were sprawled out on her living room couch, a random show playing on the TV long forgotten as you both lazily scrolled through your phones, worn out from the day’s activities, until you spiraled down the rabbit hole of social media—staring at perfect bodies of perfect women with perfect smiles in the most perfect vacation spots.
You placed your phone with a soft thud down on the couch before looking at her, sighing dramatically. “But I want to feel confident in a crop top—and not like I’m going to pass out after only one flight of stairs.”
She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips at your antics. “So, go to the gym?” she shrugged, glancing back at her phone.
“But the gym is, like, terrifying. And full of… gym people,” you groaned, tipping your head back against the cushion again, eyes squeezed shut. The thought of being surrounded by sweaty, grunting people who actually knew what they were doing while you looked like a lost lamb in a wolf’s den sent shivers down your spine in a bad way
Though if you were being honest, the biggest reason you wouldn’t dare step foot in a gym was the very real chance of running into Kang Taehyun. It was already bad enough that you had to see him whenever your best friend invited you over—he was, after all, her older brother. And seeing him sweaty and focused, muscles flexing as he probably bench-pressed hundreds of kilos with ease? Yeah. No, thank you. Just the thought made your cheeks flush.
You were so deep in thought—more like drooling over Taehyun—that you didn’t hear the thud of a duffel bag hitting the floor or the squeak of sneakers on the hardwood.
“Gym people, huh?” came a low voice—dry and amused.
Your head snapped up. And there he was, standing right in front of you.
Kang Taehyun. Your best friend’s older brother.
Wearing a sleeveless black shirt clinging to his chest and shoulders, damp with sweat. His grey joggers slung dangerously low on his hips as he pushed his hair back. A water bottle still in his hand, headphones dangling from around his neck. He looked like he walked straight out of your… deeply repressed dreams.
You sat up straighter on instinct. His gaze slid over you, casual as ever, as your blush deepened even further. Realizing what you’d just said, your lips parted, an apology already tumbling out—before he interrupted.
“I mean, if you are serious about hitting the gym but don’t want to deal with those gym people, you could tag along with me next time.”
You blinked. Did he just—
“I go every day anyway,” he added with a small shrug. “Wouldn’t be a big deal. Unless you think I'm one of those gym people.”
“N-No, it’s okay, really,” you started, waving your hands a little too fast. He’d be sweaty. Up close. Focused on you. “I don’t wanna, like, mess with your routine or anything. That’d be so—”
“Wait, that’s actually perfect!” Seoyun cut in, practically bouncing in place. “You’ve been talking about getting started forever, and who better than my brother? He could totally coach you.” Completely unaware of the crush you’d been nursing since you were fifteen, your best friend beamed, while you could only stare back—utterly at a loss for words. How were you supposed to get out of this without sounding stupid?
Taehyun’s mouth twitched in the faintest smirk as he caught your silence. “I’ll text you,” he said simply, before turning down the hallway.
–
You hesitated just outside the gym’s entrance. Taehyun was already inside as the ‘I’m here :)’ text sent at 9:51 stared back at you. It was 9:57 now, which meant you had been pacing the sidewalk for a whole six minutes. The chilly wind did nothing to cool your overheated nerves, knowing who was waiting for you inside.
Another vibration of your phone snapped you out of your trance.
Tyun: are you going to stop pacing and come in, or do I need to drag your ass here myself?
Your eyes widened as you read the message. Looking up, you spotted him already watching through the window, waving with a grin. Embarrassed, you resisted the urge to smack yourself in the forehead. Instead, you managed a weak, awkward wave back before forcing yourself toward the doors.
Pushing them open, you were immediately hit with the smell of metal and rubber mats, the clink of weights, and the low grunts of people who all looked like they knew exactly what they were doing—unlike you.
Meanwhile, Taehyun strolled over with calm confidence. Swiping his card, he glanced up, lips curving faintly at your frozen stance. “You look like a deer caught in the headlights,” he teased before walking ahead.
You scrambled to follow, clutching your bag tighter. “I’m sorry, I just… don’t know what to do and—”
“I do,” he cut you off smoothly. He popped his locker open with his wristband, then gestured for you to put your bag inside. Right, of course he knew what to do—Taehyun practically lived here.
As you stepped closer to stash your things, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you. Your hands froze, brain short-circuiting as you realized how close he was—close enough for his breath to graze your cheek as he leaned casually against the door. Heart hammering, you fumbled out your water bottle and towel before retreating a full step back, face flushed. He was already grinning at you when he swung the locker shut, not breaking eye contact.
“Shall we?”
Following Taehyun to the back of the gym, you watched him grab two rubber mats and place them down in front of you. “We’re going to start with stretches to warm up, so you don’t pull any muscles later.”
Get your body warm, he said? You’d been inside with Taehyun for all of ten minutes, and your whole body already felt like it was on fire. Didn’t they usually blast the AC in these places?
“Copy me.”
So you did. Badly.
Taehyun folded himself easily into lunges and bends, his movements fluid and sure, while you tried not to topple over. Within minutes, you were yet again not sure if the sweat dripping down your neck was from being so out of shape… or from him. The way his shirt clung when he stretched his arms overhead, the faint sheen of sweat already glistening on his neck — it did more to your heart rate than any cardio could.
“Alright,” he said after a while, standing up and grabbing a pair of dumbbells. “We’ll start simple.”
He demonstrated a clean curl, biceps flexing, veins tracing down his forearms. He wasn’t even showing off — just focused, his voice calm as he explained the movement. And you tried to pay attention. You really did. But your eyes betrayed you, fixed on the way his muscles shifted under his skin.
“Y/N?”
You blinked. “Huh?”
His head tilted slightly, amusement glimmering in his eyes. “Did you get that?”
Your brain screamed no, but your mouth betrayed you with a quick, awkward nod. “Uh—yeah. Totally.”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a knowing smirk, like he could see straight through you. “Good,” he murmured, handing you a much smaller pair of weights. “Show me, then.”
Your palms were sweaty before you even started lifting them. Not because the dumbbells were that heavy, he made sure to start you with lighter ones. But because his focus was fully on you now, as he crossed his arms, making his muscles pop out even more.
As you tried your best to mimic the movement you thought he’d shown you, the dumbbells started to wobble immediately, your form was stiff, and your elbows were sticking out too far.
“Not bad,” Taehyun said, shifting in front of you. His tone was smooth, almost encouraging, yet the smirk he still supported gave him away. “But not good either.” Your face heated. “I’m… trying.”
“I can tell.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice just slightly, the scent of his cologne wrapping around you once again — crisp cedarwood and warm amber with a trace of spice. “Relax your shoulders. You’re holding them like you’re about to fight somebody.”
You obeyed instantly, dropping your shoulders. He reached out then, the back of his knuckles brushing against your arm as he adjusted your elbow inward. It was the lightest touch, but it set off the fireworks in your stomach badly.
“Better,” he murmured, his eyes flicking up to yours for a heartbeat. You swallowed hard, desperately looking anywhere but his face — which, unfortunately, landed your gaze right on his broad, very-much-in-your-face chest.
“Focus, Y/N,” he couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice anymore, “Unless you’re planning to check me out the whole time,” making your jaw drop. “I—I wasn’t—”
The stammer in your voice drew a quiet chuckle from him, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t worry. Happens all the time.” Mortified, you tried to correct your form, curling the dumbbells with shaky arms. He crouched slightly, bringing his gaze level with yours, watching every movement closely — that knowing smirk never leaving his lips. “You’re nervous,” he said matter-of-factly, tilting his head.
“No, I’m not!” you blurted, a little too fast, which only made his smile deepen. Leaning in, he let his voice drop low, close enough for his scent to wrap around you completely. “Sure you’re not.” Your arms trembled profusely now, and the heavy puff leaving your lips had nothing to do with the five-kilo dumbbells in your hands.
“Keep going,” he instructed, finally stepping back, arms crossing over his chest again. “I’ll let you know when I’m satisfied.”
–
You pushed through the same gym doors right at 10:00 a.m.—the exact time Taehyun had told you to be there. You’d been on time every single day this week, and as your sneakers squeaked against the floor, you spotted him by the free weights, stretching out his shoulders.
He looked up the second you walked in — a flash of mock surprise crossing his face. “You actually made it to Saturday,” he said, brows lifting slightly.
“Of course I did,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you set your water bottle down next to the rubber mat he’d already laid out for you and started your warm-up stretches.
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?”
You gave him a blank stare, though your stomach fluttered. “As if.”
The moment you finished your stretches and the real training started, you realized something had shifted. From the very first lunch, Taehyun was there — adjusting your arms with his hands when words alone would’ve sufficed, nudging your legs into position with the side of his knee, his palm pressing against your back to guide you lower into a bend. It wasn't like he had been shy about touching before, but it felt a bit more intentional this time.
“Straighten up,” he murmured, fingers trailing lightly down your spine, leaving sparks in their wake. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary before he stepped back.
You exhaled, flustered. “You could’ve just said that.”
“I did,” he countered smoothly.
Later, during dumbbell presses, he came up behind you, palms closing over your wrists to guide the motion. His chest brushed your shoulder blades, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “Like this,” he said quietly, making direct eye contact with you through the mirror. You froze as his breath fanned against your ear, blood rushing to your cheeks. “I—I got it.”
By the time you moved on to squats, you were already a sweating mess, convinced your nerves couldn’t handle more. But Taehyun crouched beside you anyway, one hand steadying your hip, the other brushing over your knee to correct your angle. His eyes flicked up to yours, watching as your eyes darted anywhere but in his direction, making the faintest grin tug at his lips when he caught how flustered you looked. “You’re distracted,”
“And are in my personal space,” you shot back.
Squat
“Am I not here to help you train?”
Squat
“Do you touch everyone you ‘train’ like this?”
Squat
His grin widened. “I mean… how could I not? I only train the pretty ones.”
You let out a frustrated huff, your legs burning from the repeated squads you were doing. Only the pretty ones? What was that even supposed to mean? How many women had he trained before dragging you into this godforsaken place? The exhaustion was creeping up on you as you neared the end of your session. Your eyes bored holes into the wall while you tried to hide the irritated look on your face. Why were you so irritated anyway? It wasn’t like he was yours; he could do whatever he wanted. But the way he’d put it so plainly pissed you off.
From the corner of your eye, you could still see him watching you intently, his big, beautiful boba eyes following every twitch of your body. “Cat got your tongue?” he asked, his tone teasing.
“Go train your pretty ones if you are just here to piss me off.”
“Y/n. Look at me.”
You ignored him, doing your last squat and dropping the bar from your shoulders with a thud. Turning to grab your water bottle, you needed a big gulp to cool yourself down — but his hand wrapped around your wrist stopped you mid-motion. “I said, look at me.”
You hesitated for a moment, but the sternness in his voice made your body move before your mind could. You turned your body towards him but refused to meet his eyes. Crossing your hands under your chest, you waited for him to speak. Instead, a hand slid under your chin, tilting your face upward until your eyes were forced to meet his.
“There we go,” he murmured. “Now, I don’t know what’s with the shift in your mood, but would you feel better if I told you you’re the first one I’m training?”
The mortified look on your face told him everything he needed to know. His smile spread wide as you opened your mouth, searching for words to fight your way out of this, but failed miserably.
“Now grab your stuff and get your cute ass in my car, we are getting some much-deserved ice cream.”
–
Taehyun parked the car in front of basically the only ice cream shop in your neighborhood — the one that stood out with its bright yellow and pink walls among all the plain white houses on the street. The big open neon sign in the window blinked lazily at you as you got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind you.
Inside, the air was cool, finally soothing your still-heated skin. The hum of the freezers filled the quiet between you as you both stood in front of the counter, scanning the colorful rows of flavors. His head was right next to yours as you made your way down the lit-up display, colors gleaming behind the glass.
As you hovered in front of the same few flavors for a little too long, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low. “Let me guess — something basic like vanilla?”
You shot him a glare. “No. I like it a bit more exciting, actually. I’ll go with cherry and peach.”
He let out a low hum, “Cute, I’ll be getting espresso chip then. Gotta keep the energy up.”
Your loss for words started to feel like a normal thing with his remarks, as you were once left speechless. His constant double meanings made your stomach flip, and the casual way he said them — like it was nothing — only made it worse. Taheyun started ordering for you both as soon as the cashier turned to you for your turn. All you could do was watch him as he told her your order so effortlessly, as if the tension hanging between you both did nothing to him, while you just stood there flustered. He pulled out his wallet to pay for you, telling her to keep the change before grabbing both your ice creams and handing you yours, not without making sure to brush your fingers in the gesture.
As you both sat by the window with your cups, the teasing faded into a comfortable silence, yet the tension remained. The sun caught in his blond hair, giving him an almost angelic glow. He caught you staring again, yet this time he didn’t tease you for it.
“For the record, I meant it.” He broke the silence sofly, “You really are the first person I’ve trained.”
You looked down as you stirred your slowly melting ice cream, a grin tugging at your lips. “So… you’re calling me pretty?” You tried to sound confident — you really did — but if you were honest? Anything having to do with you being close to Taehyun made every ounce of composure fly out of the window. And he seemed to rather enjoy it as you got the courage to look back up at him again.
He raised an eyebrow as he scooped the last of his ice cream into his mouth, clearly fighting a smile. “I did. Don’t let it get to your head, though.”
You scoffed, licking your spoon. “Too late.”
That earned you a real laugh. He leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands behind his head as his shirt lifted just enough to reveal the hard lines of his abs. It was almost unfair how good-looking he was and how utterly unimpressed he seemed by your constant staring.
If only you could run your fingers up his abs and-
You coughed loudly as the last bite of ice cream went down the wrong way.
“You okay?” Taehyun asked, biting back a laugh as you tried to recover.
“Yeah,” you croaked between coughs, cheeks burning. “Yeah, I’m good. I just— tried to breathe but, uh, inhaled my ice cream instead.”
Still smiling, Taehyun glanced at your empty cup and then at his watch. “Alright, let me drive you home.” He rose from his seat slowly, taking both your empty cups before tossing them into the trash. You nodded, still trying to recover whatever dignity you had left after your little coughing fit, and followed him out of the shop.
As you made your way to your car, you suddenly stopped in your tracks. As the realisation hit you that Seoyun still hadn’t given back your notebook, which you need on Monday for your upcoming test.
Taehyun, who was holding your door open, looked at you with a raised brow. You quickly shook your head, mumbling something incoherent as you slid into the seat, clutching your phone in your lap while your brain scrambled for the least awkward way to say what you needed to say.
He jogged around the front of the car, sliding in on his side and starting the engine with a low rumble. His hand shifted the gear into reverse before resting casually along the back of your headrest. Before he could even take off, the words spilled out of you. “Actually… um— could you take me to your place?”
His hand stilled as he turned his head slowly toward you, one eyebrow arching high, and a teasing smirk tugged at his lips. “Wow. How bold of you, Y/N. Didn’t think we were there yet.”
Your face burned instantly. “Oh my god— not like that!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands and sinking deeper into the seat. “I meant— I just— Seoyun forgot to give me my notebook back, and I really need it for my test on Monday. I’ll literally fail if I don’t have it, and it’s just easier if you bring me right now, otherwise I’ll have to—”
Taehyun cut you off with a low laugh, shaking his head. “Relax, I was joking.” His grin didn’t fade — if anything, it deepened. “Don’t get so defensive, it makes you look even more suspicious.”
“Remind me never to talk to you again,” you muttered, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. A few more minutes stuck with him and his insufferable jokes, and you would be sure they would be stuck in the back of your head. But the tiny smile that still made its way to your lips betrayed you.
—
When Taehyun unlocks the door, he holds it right open for you, nodding his head for you to get inside first. You stepped past him, bending to pull off your shoes — only to notice something missing. The usual splash of Seoyun’s pink sneakers by the door wasn’t there.
“Is Seoyun not home?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your voice came out just a touch higher than normal. You hoped she was. God, you hoped she was. You’d already spent too much time alone with Taehyun, and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle, especially not in private.
“Nope,” he answered easily, tugging off his shoes. You’d paused halfway through, still bent over, which meant he had to brush past you to reach the rack. His hands landed briefly on your hips, steadying himself to slip by — as if it was necessary. It wasn’t. You knew it. And he definitely knew it too. Your breath caught, but before you could react, he was already climbing the stairs.
Notebook, you reminded yourself. That’s what you came for.
Seoyun’s door creaked as you pushed it open, and there it was — your notebook, right on her desk, half-buried under a scatter of her handwritten pages. You crossed the room, neatly stacking her notes before grabbing your notebook.
You hesitated in the hallway, awkwardly weighing whether to say goodbye or just leave like you usually did when you were with Seoyun. He hadn’t cared before. But he’d driven you here, and you had worked out together all week… it would be rude to just leave, right?
You just wanted to see him one last time in that tight shirt of his — the one that clung to every muscle. What would it look like if he was hoveri— oh my god, Y/N, get a grip. He’s your best friend’s brother, for fuck’s sake.
You hadn’t even noticed your own feet carrying you until you found yourself standing in front of his door, which was wide open. He was bent slightly forward, rearranging something on his desk, the muscles in his back flexing beneath that damn shirt. You leaned against the doorway, notebook clutched tightly to your chest, trying to look casual as you cleared your throat. The sound came out awkward and forced, heat immediately rushing to your cheeks.
The sound made him glance over his shoulder, his face already amused like he was expecting you. The mischievous glint in his eyes told you he’d left the door open on purpose.
“Uh—thank you… for this week. For letting me tag along. I hope I wasn’t too much of a… deal to deal with.” Great job y/n. Smooth. Real smooth.
Taehyun straightened, setting down whatever he’d been holding before walking toward you. His steps were slow and deliberate, that damn smirk already back on his lips. Your eyes darted everywhere but at him — the bookshelf, the floor, the notebook in your hands that you were now fidgeting with nervously.
He stopped a step too close, his presence wrapping around you just like it had all week. His eyes gleamed in that knowing way, like he’d heard every single inappropriate thought that had crossed your mind in the hallway. You scrambled for words, but he beat you to it. “You weren’t any trouble at all,” he murmured, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “On the contrary, workouts were a lot more bearable this week. At least I had something worth looking at instead of a bunch of sweaty guys flexing their egos in the mirror.”
Your entire body flushed so hot it felt like your skin might combust. Did Kang Taehyun just call you pretty twice in one day? The heat in your cheeks gave you away instantly. You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a tiny, embarrassing squeak that wasn’t even close to words. His smile deepened, tilting his head in a way that made your knees weak. He lifted one arm, bracing his hand against the doorframe above you, leaning in just enough that his breath ghosted across your skin.
“Cat got your tongue?” he drawled. He was so close now that the scent of his cologne wrapped all around you, pulling you in even more. You swallowed hard, trying to glance away, but his proximity made it impossible, leaving you no choice but to meet his gaze.
His pupils were blown wide, dark and heavy, you were sure they were mirroring your own. And when his eyes finally flicked downward to your lips, you felt your heart lurch violently against your ribcage. Then, as if to drive the point home, his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
“Please kiss me.” The words slipped out before you even realized they were yours. His eyes widened slightly in amusement before he leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours.
“Fuck, I thought you would never ask.” His lips crashed into yours, hard and demanding, pinning you back against the doorframe as his body caged you in completely. The sudden pressure of his chest against yours and the fierce hunger in the kiss ripped a whimper straight out of you. Your hands flew instinctively into his hair, pulling him closer. His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in possessively as though you would scurry off any minute.
One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, slightly tilting your head backwards so he could deepen the kiss. It was hot and dizzying, your teeth grazing, and another whimper escaped you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. ou melted under him, completely falling apart in his hands until you had to break away for air. He didn’t go far as his forehead pressed against yours, both of you catching your breath.
“God,” he rasped, voice rougher than you’d ever heard. “You have no idea what you did to me.”
And then it hit you. Reality, slamming into your chest like a brick wall. You’d just kissed your best friend’s brother.
Panic tangled in your chest as you tried to push him back, palms flat against his chest. “Taehyun, we can’t—what if Seoyun—” But before you could finish, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist and halting your attempt to shove him away. His eyes locked sharply onto yours.
“You think I haven’t noticed?” he said lowly, his tone somewhere between sly amusement and raw honesty. “The way you’ve been looking at me for years? At first, I didn’t think much of it—I know I’m good-looking,” You scoffed, but the sound died on your tongue as his thumb brushed across your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine. “But lately? You’ve been practically hiding from me. Won’t meet my eyes, rushing out of rooms. Like you thought, if you avoided me, I wouldn’t catch on.”
You opened your mouth to protest—to deny, to say anything—but the words tangled in your throat. Overwhelmed, you grasped for the only excuse that felt safe. “But Seoyun—” He cut you off with another deep kiss. This one was a bit rougher, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip before he pulled back just enough to speak against your mouth.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he murmured. “The first day you walked into the gym this week, I nearly lost it. Those leggings hugging your ass, that little bit of softness of your belly peeking out every time you lifted a dumbbell—do you know how hard it was not to take you right then and there? To claim you for everyone to see?” Your knees buckled under his words, your grip in his hair tightening. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he continued, his tone sinful. “About wanting to mark every inch of you. To make sure no one else ever gets to look at you the way I do.”
You could only look up at him with wide, innocent eyes after his confession, and that look alone made him groan softly before closing the space between you again. Your knees threatened to give out, but his leg slid between yours before you could. The pressure hit exactly where you needed him most, making your mind go dizzy as a moan slipped past your lips. “Please,” you breathed out, barely coherent. “Please mark me up, Taehyun.”
“Fuck.” He was just as breathless as you were, noticing how you started grinding against his leg. He pulled back, making you whimper in frustration, before guiding you away from the doorframe and back toward his bed.
You landed on the mattress with an oof, barely catching your breath before he was on top of you again. Your hands flew to his chest instinctively, roaming from his biceps down to his abs, unable to stop yourself from feeling the heat radiating off him.
His lips trailed down the side of your neck, leaving a path of wet kisses. You tilted your head instinctively, giving him more room to continue his teasing assault. As Taehyun’s mouth wandered from just below your ear to your collarbone, your hands found their way under his tight shirt, tugging lightly at the hem — a silent request for him to take it off. He let out a quiet, breathy laugh against your pulse, amused by your eagerness, before lifting himself just enough to meet your eyes. You smiled shyly at him as you tugged at his shirt once more, followed by a soft “Please?”
“Hmm… because you asked so nicely,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before sitting up fully and pulling his shirt over his head. You followed his lead, discarding yours as well. His gaze dropped to your chest before his hands came up, giving a firm squeeze through the fabric of your bra. A moan slipped from your lips at how perfectly his hands molded around you.
He kissed you again, then began to trail lower, down your neck to your cleavage. A few wet kisses later, he suddenly bit down lightly between your breasts, making you squeal and arch into him. He used the opportunity to unclasp your bra, soothing the spot with his tongue. Your bra came off in one fluid motion, and before you could catch your breath, his mouth was on your skin again — his lips closing around your nipple while his tongue teased in slow, deliberate motions. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at the strands, drawing a low groan from him.
One of his hands slid down your stomach, tracing the curve of your waist until his fingers reached the edge of your waistband. The soft, barely-there touch left goosebumps in its wake. You bucked your hips involuntarily, needing him down lower where the heat had already soaked your panties through. He let go of your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air over the sensitive skin and making you mewl. Another desperate roll of your hips made him hold onto your waist firmly, pressing it down into the mattress. “Patience, princess,” he warned.
A whine was about to leave your mouth until his hand slipped under your waistband, his fingers pressing against your clit. You choked on a moan as he circled it with slow, practiced movements. “Already this wet just from me teasing you?” he teased. “Tsk. How filthy.”
“More,” you gasped out, breathless. He slowed his movements, raising his eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to ask properly. “Please, Tyun. Oh my god, I need more. Please.”
“There we go,” he said with a grin. “Almost thought you’d lost your manners there, pretty.” He sped up his fingers briefly before pulling away altogether, earning an impatient whine from you. Then he tugged your leggings and panties down in one go, his hand immediately finding your slit. The wet sound that followed might’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t already so dazed from his touch. Your hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to guide him closer to where you needed him, but before you could move, his other hand caught both of your wrists easily, pinning them above your head. His hand on your cunt stilled, “You’re being such an impatient brat, princess,” he said with a soft tsk, his lips hovering just above yours. “Only makes me want to tease you even longer.”
You were about to protest when he suddenly plunged two fingers into your hole. The speed at which he moved his fingers left you no room to argue, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, though this time it wasn’t out of annoyance from his stupid jokes. Your back arched once more, leaving your neck bare for him to mark, and he didn’t waste a second to do so.
“Is this what you wanted, hmm? Wanted me to fill you up?” He curled his fingers just at the right angle, making you see stars as the knot in your stomach started to form. Your thighs were trembling, hands holding onto each other, your nails leaving half-moons as you tried to stay somewhat composed. You couldn’t even form any words; the only sound leaving your lips was loud, breathy moans
You tried to pull your hands out of his grip, needing to hold on to something, anything — his hair, the sheets, his arms, just for you to try to ground yourself because at the speed at which he was moving, his fingers left you with only one thought in your head: how good you were feeling. But his grip on your wrist only tightened, leaving you nowhere to go, as you just had to take the amazing feeling that was creeping all the way down from your back to your stomach.
“Taehyun—” you slurred out his name, unable to form any other words but his name.
“Are you close, pretty? I can feel you tightening around my fingers.” You nodded at his words, another loud moan leaving your lips before your body completely locked up, and your orgasm crashed over you, your vision searing white
Taehyun helped you through your orgasm, slowly pumping his fingers before finally pulling out, letting go of your wrists too. You heard him let out a breathy laugh before you felt his lips connect to the side of your neck, leaving soft kisses, as if trying to ground you. Your hands found their way into his hair as you slowly blinked your eyes open. His hands were tracing shapes on your still-trembling thighs as he made his way up to your lips, a soft peck before pulling away to look into your eyes. As his sparkling eyes met your dazed ones, you couldn’t help but smile too. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever orgasmed that quickly or hard before.”
Taehyun let out a loud laugh, dropping his head as you giggled along with him. Your hands slipped out of his hair and down to his shoulder, giving him a slight push as you tried to get him off you. “Let me return the favour.” He lifted his head at your words, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Go ahead, princess.”
You groaned as you gave him another push, clearly unsuccessful at even getting him to move an inch from you. “Then get off me, macho man.” His smirk only deepened at your miserable attempts to swap places. “Maybe I like seeing you under me, all at my mercy.” His hand gripped your hip tightly, lifting it so your clit pressed against the bulge in his jeans. You let out a surprised squeal, your clit still sensitive from your intense orgasm. “Maybe I love being able to see every reaction on your pretty face you make because of what I do to you.”
“Then fuck me already if you want to get a reaction out of me so badly. I can feel you want to.” You tried to roll your hips into his bulge, ignoring your own overstimulation, only to be stopped again by him.
“You’re pretty demanding for someone who’s anything but in control right now.” He dropped his head into your neck again, biting down on your pulse point. You bit your lip hard to keep yourself from making any sounds that would give him the satisfaction, yet you couldn’t help but move your head a bit to the side to give him more room. He let out an amused huff. “Maybe you’re right — maybe I do need to fuck the brat out of you.”
He sat up in one swift motion, almost making you whine from the loss of his body warmth. Your pout deepened as he teased you with his joggers, slowly pulling at the drawstrings to undo the knot while maintaining eye contact.
“Taehyun!” You let out an annoyed huff at his antics, your patience wearing thin as he just smiled at you with his shit-eating grin, enjoying his little game far too much.
“Hmm? What was that?” His thumbs dipped into his waistband, pulling it down ever so slightly so you could see his V-line peeking out above it. God, the things you would do if you could get your lips on it.
“Taehyun, fuck me, please, I’m going crazy.” You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded anymore. All that was on your mind was how you needed him badly. The fact that you were about to get fucked by your best friend’s brother didn’t seem to bother you anymore either. Satisfied with your answer, he pulled his joggers and underwear down in one motion, his length slapping against his stomach. You mindlessly rubbed your thighs together at the sight, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by him.
He wrapped his hand around his dick, slowly pumping it in front of your eyes. Another impatient whine escaped you as you felt your thighs were now covered in your own slick, ready to be filled up deliciously by him.
“Who knew you were such a whiny princess?” He lowered himself back over you, his body slotting between your thighs. “Those pretty sounds go straight to my dick,” he murmured as he prodded his tip against your entrance. “So fucking wet, holy shit, Y/N.”
He moved his tip up and down your slit a few times, coating himself in your slick, before slowly pushing in. You both moaned at the feeling of him entering you; his grip on your hips tightened, surely leaving marks from how hard he was squeezing, while your own nails left long streaks down his back.
The room was filled with your heavy breaths as he pushed fully into you, and he loved the way your eyes went hazy once again. Your warm walls pulsed around him, but he didn’t move — not even when you started to writhe beneath him. “Move,” you demanded, frustration lacing your voice as you grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.
“Beg.”
You rolled your eyes at him. He could go fuck himself and his little games. You placed your feet flat on the mattress, lifting your hips and trying to push yourself up and down on his length. With him pressed so close, it was almost impossible to find a rhythm — but you wouldn’t give in so easily. He watched in amusement as you tried to get yourself off before leaning down, his lips finding your ear. “Just one word, y/n, and I’ll fuck you so good. All you have to do is lie there and take me. Don’t you want to be treated like a pillow princess?” He murmured. You shook your head, a whine leaving your lips unwillingly as your hips already grew tired. “So pathetic, so weak… let me take care of you.”
His right hand traveled to your neck, wrapping around it and slightly squeezing as your eyes rolled back. His other hand made its way down to your clit, drawing slow, deliberate circles — enough pressure to build pleasure, but not enough to get you off.
“Beg, y/n.”
Still, your lips stayed tightly shut, even as your hips trembled from exhaustion. You needed him so badly, and you knew how unlikely it was that you’d get off like this — but you liked seeing how far you could push him.
Suddenly, he pulled almost all the way out — only to slam back into you, hard. A moan ripped through you as your back arched, pushing your chest into his face. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down on the bud. A sound of pain and pleasure filled his ears as you clawed at anything you could reach, and the last bit of restraint crumbled in a matter of seconds.
“Holy fuck, yes, please, Taehyun — I need you, please — I need you so bad, fuck me dumb.”
You could barely finish your sentence before his hand left your clit, grabbing your hip in a bruising hold as he started to pound into you. He was using you as his own little fleshlight as you lay there, taking every thrust just like he wanted you to. The grip around your neck tightened, and you swore you saw stars. You clenched around him, earning a low, rumbling moan in return. “See how easy that was? The power one polite word can have.”
Your hands held onto the wrist of the hand that was squeezing your neck, as your eyes tried to blink away the haze to find his gaze. At this point, you were only mumbling incoherently as he kept pounding into you at a bruising pace. “Feeling good, baby? Seems like you forgot how to speak.”
His jab at your dumbification went totally unnoticed by you, as you focused solely on the tightening in your stomach. The feeling was so overwhelming that you tried to pull him closer; you needed him closer. “Taehyun…” you mumbled as you weakly grabbed at his bicep.
Taehyun, being the observant person he is, instantly got what you were hinting at. Letting his body fall forward as his hand left your neck, wrapping around your arched back instead. Pulling you even closer to him, his pace faltered not one bit. “I’ve got you, princess; you can let go for me.” He pressed his lips to the side of your jaw, leaving kisses in his wake.
One more particular thrust had you squeezing around his dick insanely tight, making it almost impossible for him to keep moving, as your second intense orgasm washed over you. “fuck– y/n, you are squeezing me so tight—” Taehyun moaned in your ear. Before you could register the overstimulation in your cunt from his uncoordinated thrusts, he stilled as Taehyun came inside of you.
As his body went limp, he still made sure to support himself on his forearms so as not to crush you under his weight. But you didn't care as you wrapped your arms around his neck, weakly tugging him into you, having no strength left. This time, he didn’t argue as he chuckled and let himself fall onto you.
Both of you were trying to catch your breath as you lazily traced patterns on his naked back, his hand doing the same on your hip. You felt him go soft inside you, Taehyun’s cue to pull himself up and out of you, your combined releases seeping out the second he did. You pushed yourself onto your elbows as your eyes caught the way his lower body was fully glistening with your slick. Your eyes widened in horror.
“You squirted,“ he said with a smirk.
“Taehyun— I’m so fucking sorry, I—” he shushed you with a kiss before you could continue. “Do you know how fucking hot that was of you?” he murmured as he pulled away, his lips hovering above yours. “Don’t apologise for feeling good ever again. Got it?”
Your nod was enough of a confirmation for him, leaning in to kiss you once more. You had both been so lost in each other that you had totally forgotten the situation you had found yourselves in; the realisation dawning on you when you heard the front door open and shut.
Seoyun’s singing voice filled the house from downstairs before she abruptly stopped. “Y/n’s shoes? What is she doing here without me… oh.”
i actually can't with this man, he's actually the biggest baby but also biggest tease?
he would baby you all of the time, pinching your cheeks and kissing you all over your face
but then he will also pout if you don't give him the same treatment, the pout will leave once you give him a kiss and cuddle him
so he is obviously very affectionate, but he knows when to be serious and turn it down a notch, which mainly occurs with other people around/in public
but at the same time i can also see him not caring and just doing whatever, it really depends on his mood, the setting, and who he's with
very very vey big on fashion, meaning, he would love to style you, or you ask his input on your outfit, it will make him so happy
i could see him also liking it when you guys match, but very subtle like having the same shoes, same general color scheme, sharing accessories
he's such a flirt, will never ever miss out on an opportunity to make you blush, it's one of his favorite things ever
loves kissing you, cheek, forehead, hands, but especially lips
will also buy you anything your heart desires, you will not be touching your wallet around him
he's so boyfriend omg
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ soobin
he's the sweetest and cutest thing ever
he would definitely be into a more cliché romance. the type you see in dramas, he really is a hopeless romantic
we all know he can get really shy and flustered, so in the beginning of your relationship he was like that all of the time, always giving you his shy smile
now he still does shy up, but it's really when you initiate physical contact like giving him kisses and hugs
he would love sharing clothes with you, thinks you look adorable with it being big on you
big on cuddling and physical contact even if he does become shy
when he initiates it he doesn't really become shy, it's really just when you do it
he would love back hugs with him resting his head on yours or your shoulder
and would love hugging you and spinning around, he thinks it's the cutest thing
he's learn to just ignore his members when they tease him, to the point where he doesn't even care, he will continue laying in your lap with anyone present
loves loves loves holding hands, he likes how his is a bit bigger than yours
he's your biggest supporter for sure, always right behind you for everything you do
he always acts like a teenager in love, everyone can see how happy he gets when you walk into the room
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ beomgyu
okay so this man is the absolute love of your life, but also a literal clown
he's so goofy omg, but he's such a brat sometimes
i can promise you that boredom is never a thing when your with him
he's such a tease too, always laughing and giggling with or at you, but not in a mean way, he knows when to stop
your laugh is his medicine, like he loves making you laugh, it's one of his favorite things
his ego would go through the roof too like "omg i just make you laugh, i'm the funniest person ever"
he loves cuddling but he can also not sit still for the absolute life of him, so you two laying in bed means someone is rolling off of the bed (like he will start jumping on the bed and won't stop until you push him off, but not hurting him obviously)
also love hugs, he will fully engulf you into a bear hug, crushing every bone in your body, but then he'll spin you around until you're both dizzy
very soft with you when he's tired, like all he wants is to lay down with you and baby him, or vice versa if you're tired, he will baby you to no end
you are one of his top prioritizes so he will always make sure that you're okay
making sure you have enough to eat, lending you his jacket, watching over you when doing something, putting his hand on a corner so you don't bump your head, etc.
one of your biggest supporters, will make sure he is the loudest too, always making sure you get your way
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ taehyun
so so sweet, very much a gentleman
i could see him always paying for you, definitely likes to go shopping just so you don’t have to pay for anything
when you guys go out he’s always carrying your bags, like before you can get a chance to grab it after he payed for it, it’s already in his hand
speaking of public, he wouldn’t like pda, maybe handholding or him giving you his arm, but that’s about it
in private he is definitely more affectionate, always touching you like slinging an arm over your shoulders, hand on your thigh, holding hands, linking pinkies, laying your legs over his lap, etc.
will do anything for you, he quite literally can’t say no, so if you really want something just ask, because you have very good chances of him saying yes
makes sure that you are in good health, so he’ll always be watching over you to aloe sure you are eating good and also doing some form of exercise/activity, as he wants to keep you healthy
i feel like he would make you breakfast in bed on random occasions, if he could bring himself to get out of bed that is
on the other occasions he would just stay in bed with you, as he wouldn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace
he can be very soft either way you, gentle and affectionate, but also very playful when he wants to be
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➺❥ huening kai
omg he's a little baby, like all you want to do is snuggle him
it's known, and very well headcanoned that this man is a snuggle bug, and i completely agree
he loves hugging you and giving you kisses on the cheek, and obviously hopes for it to be reciprocated
i could see you laying down on the couch or bed doing your own thing, reading a book, scrolling on your phone, watching tv, etc. then you just see kai coming over and laying on your stomach, grabbing your hand and putting it on his head, and him snuggling into your belly
he's just overall very smitten with you, like he always has a look on his face that screams "i'm so in love, i can't believe that we're together"
whenever he’s not with you he’s always calling and texting you because he hates being apart :(
it’s always just little updates or check-ins, like he’ll text you “eating lunch right now! are you eating?” or “i miss you :(, i can’t wait to get back”
i also think he would be big on pet names, but they’re pretty consistent, where once he finds a few he’ll stick to them
doesn’t like either of you to be mad at each other, so if there’s ever an argument he will always apologize and try to resolve it, because he doesn’t want you guys to go to bed angry
he’s also a little goofball so he deck tries to make you laugh, like the others, he loves seeing you smile and laugh, it makes his heart flutter
his family would love you too, you definitely get along with lea and hiyyih
request: hi!! i saw you were taking txt requests and wanted to ask if you could do headcanons for tubatu and their favourite kind of nonsexual intimacy/physical affection :D
warnings: none, that i could think off. maybe some slight negative thoughts. most definitely not proof-read
a/n: ermmmm...hi...i have made a return to writing after a LONG time so feel free to send requests :))) hope this is good!
Choi Soobin
With Soobin, I can really see him valuing consistency in a relationship. I don’t necessarily mean a routine that you and him follow intentionally, it’s just things that serendipitously fall into place that becomes a constant in his life and your relationship.
He’d really treasure these constants when things becomes a little too hectic for his liking as an idol and the leader of Tomorrow X Together.
Sometimes he’s called at random times throughout the day for dance practice, sometimes he’ll have an impromptu trip for a fanmeet, sometimes he’d have a date planned with you only for it to fall flat because the company needs him for a photoshoot
So when he’s able to anchor himself to you, whether it be before or back-to-back schedules, or amidst the craziness that is comeback season, he does nothing but take great delight in it.
So what does this entail? Nothing. No literally. What others would call ‘doing nothing,’ you and Soobin view it as soaking in each others’ presence, filling up your half-empty cups with nuggets of calmness and tenderness.
It’s nothing extravagant, it’s literally just you and him existing in the same space while he does one thing and you do another. Parallel play, if you will.
It includes Soobin doing the cooking while you’re perched on the counter, phone in hand as you read off the recipe for him
It includes sharing the bathroom with him; you’re taking a much needed shower and he’s at the counter, doing his skincare, humming along to whatever songs you have playing on your speaker, breaking the verbal silence to playfully point out how you fogged up the mirror with how hot you ran the shower
It includes small bits of the mundane that mean the world to Soobin
Slowly but surely, it just happens to become a routine. You just always end up together, quietly, peacefully without forcing anything. He starts off by adjusting things for your comfort – fluffing a pillow when he notices it growing flat, speaking in a hushed voice when you have a migraine, flickering the big lights off and turning on the soft, yellow lamps, handing you your water bottle just as you’re about to ask him for it
It may seem too simple but as time passes, he lets you see his unfiltered states. He won’t always talk about what’s wrong, not at first, but he’ll linger around you when he’s tired and overwhelmed, when something in his atmosphere is a little off, when he doesn’t have the energy to “perform”. At the end of the day, he just tends to orient himself towards you in such subtle ways: a large hand on your thigh, his body language angled towards you, even in group settings
Soobin has no qualms in you witnessing his unpolished self, when he’s quieter than usual, a little spaced out, perhaps a bit fragile from stress
That’s where his intimacy lives: in the space around you
Over time, you start to notice that that he relaxes more around you than everyone else. Sure, he loves his members, but he’s with them most of the time in front of a camera, so there’s a layer of performance surrounding the interactions. Yet, when he’s around you, he’s allowed to pull the mask off and be unguarded around you.
Your silent reading is interrupted by the arrival of Soobin in your shared apartment. You put your book off to the side and rise from the couch, already noticing the way he trudges through the door, shoulders tense but the air around him is…exhausted. “Hey, Binnie,” you greet softly, stepping on your tippy-toes to wrap your arms around his neck, smiling to yourself when he immediately reciprocates the embrace. You can feel the way he curls into himself to fully stick himself onto you, the way he bends his neck lower, his spine arched to match your height. Expecting him to pull away after a few seconds, he surprises you by waddling over to the couch with his arms still wrapped around you. He’s a little clumsy at first, bumping into the table by the door that holds a bowl of keys and random objects but he finds his rhythm as he seamlessly moves you into the living room, pulling you down alongside him. He plops down with a huff and you follow suit, sitting on the other side from him to grab both your ankles and drape them over his lap.
You pout, not playfully because if Soobin’s feeling something, you feel it with him. “Long day?” a hand comes up to cup his cheek, clean from the makeup he had to wear in the morning for recordings, soft to the touch like he always is. Ohhhh, how easy Soobin is but instantly, when your hand comes in contact with his skin, he closes his eyes peacefully, and lets out an exhale with a shake of his head. You can already see him melting into the familiarity of the joined space. “Yeah,” he mumbles, his own coming up to rest over yours, leaning into your touch while his other hand wraps around one ankles, his thumb rubbing circles into your leg. “Just…wasn’t able to get a second and breath, you know?” peaking on eye open, anyone would be amiss to neglect the tender look Soobin gives you. It’s funny, really, how his eyes start to twinkle with fondness when he opens the other eye. “But I’m okay now.”
“Are you ?” you counter with a raise of you brow, hand floating up to push back the strands of hair that fall into his eyes. Soobin just hums in confirmation, arms coming out to wrap around you waist to pull you closer to him, right into your side, making it so you rest your head on his shoulder. “I made some bimbimbap. You want me to plate it up for you?”
“Maybe later. I just wanna sit here with you for a bit,” he whispers in reply, eyes landing on the book you were reading earlier. “Whatcha reading now?” You know, oh you know all too well that if Soobin was dwelling on something, if his mind was infested with doubts and misgivings, he’d tell you, he’d open himself up and bare his problems to you. You never needed to pull it out of him, never needed to coax him. That’s how much he trusts you, that’s how much he’s so sure of you. So when he asks you this banal question, you know that he needs now, is just a change of pace from the chaos of non-stop interviews, recordings, practices, and meetings. You gladly bring him into you space, there’s no one else you’d rather share it with, so you talk about your book, the plot, your thoughts before shifting over to the kitchen for dinner, dipping into small talk, perhaps more intimate conversations of worries and wishes. With Soobin, intimacy means being someone he doesn’t have to recover from, sharing silence that feels full rather than empty, and knowing that, even though nothing substantial has been said, you’re still connected. Intimacy with Soobin is not intense, it’s enduring.
Choi Yeonjun
In a budding romance with Yeonjun, non-sexual intimacy and physical affection starts off brights, maybe a little too intentional. If he has his sights set on you, he’s going to want to let it be known to the world.
Dramatically swinging your arm while his fingers are laced through yours. Placing a hand in the back pocket of your jeans, ever the the flirt. He knows it makes you blush when he does this and a smirk graces his lips as the two of you walk down the street like that. A part of him really does live for flirty displays of physical affection; the way peoples’ eyes are on him and you, the way you squirm around, not used to such blatant displays of affection. He’s warm and physically engaging with everyone, that’s just in his nature, but with you, he takes it a step further, though, you know that it’s a little bit of a show
You can’t really fault him for it, though. Being an idol, he constantly has people trying to get close. Not close to him but close to the idol image, the fame, the status. It’s a test of sorts. Are you really wanting to stay once you realize that his schedules are so sporadic, you may not see him for weeks at a time? Are you able to stick around when he’s surrounded by so many adoring fans, knowing thousands, if not millions of people constantly have their eyes on him? And most importantly, are you able to stare back at him unflinchingly when he breaks down and the cocky facade crumbles? If yes, the way he treats you becomes all the more distinct. Not necessarily louder, just intentional
In crowded spaces, he seeks you out specifically, eyes scanning through dozens of people at an event. He’s won an award at a show, having to sit restlessly through the rest of the event until it ended, and it he immediately booked it backstage, pushing through the throngs of people, head turning to every side to find you and when he does, he breaks out into a giant, dopey smile before crashing into you.
He brings up small details you’ve offhandedly mentioned but forgot later on. Going to a cafe, you order a slice of tiramisu, garnished with a raspberry and two blueberries, the former of which you don’t like. Yeonjun knows this, so he leans over the table to pluck the berries off the dessert and pops them into his mouth. “Hey!” you cry out, wanting to get annoyed for the sake of it. “What?” Yeonjun shrugs, chewing the fruit. “You said you don’t like blueberries.” You falter. Most of the time, you forget this fact yourself, mostly because you just don’t come into contact with blueberries enough to remember your dislike for them. But Yeonjun remembered, of course he did.
Yeonjun’s intimacy stops being general warmth and becomes targeted. Finding your gaze, locking eyes with you mid-conversation, even when someone else is talking. He’ll look at you from across the table, a subtle warm flame beneath his gaze, the two of you having a conversation with no words shared
His intimacy builds through shared moments that become exclusive over time: inside jokes, repeated habits, a certain tone of voice he only uses with you. But what really deepens it is when the performance drops because when he starts to 100% trust you, he lets you see the parts of him that aren’t that confident, where he needs reassurance instead of constantly giving it as the eldest of the group, and the quiet vulnerability behind all that confident energy.
At the end of the day, Yeonjun wants to share all experiences with you. Big and small, happy and sad, he wants to go through all the ups and downs with you, he wants to include you in his energy, and wants to be included in your energy.
Choi Beomgyu
I think Beomgyu would be kind of similar because he would hide his intimacy underneath extreme playfulness and teasing
At first, he’s all noise, cackles and jokes to get under your skin, purposefully pushing your buttons just to see your reaction but if you stay long enough, you start to notice the patterns.
He’s awfully observant and so like a switch has been flipped, he’ll stop a joke mid sentence because he senses you’re mood change. Beomgyu can sometimes forget that he’ll take his teasing a little too far but when he realizes it, he’ll bite his tongue in the same second and sit closer to you than usual, clinging onto you like a cat, but literally though because he’ll touch you absentmindedly, stuffing his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your comforting scent, or he’ll start to play with your fingers while listening to his other members talk
I could see him being quite hot and cold at times. Not in a negative way but just in that his mood could plummet or rise at the drop of a hat. He could literally be resting his head in your lap, playing with strings of your hoodie that dangle in his face, purposefully singing a song off-key, just to irritate you a bit and depending on your reaction, he’ll either keep going or stop entirely.
“C’moonnnnn, your phone can’t be that interesting,” he whines, reaching a hand up to try and swat your phone away. You scoff and roll your eyes, looking through your bank account without sparing your boyfriend a glance. “Trust me, even though my credit card stresses me out, it’s less of a headache than you,” you counter back, causing Beomgyu to sidle up further into your lap, his hans flying to your waist to tickle you. “Quit it!” you squeal, trying to wriggle yourself free, eyes still trained on your phone and when you get a glimpse of a notification that pop up, you stiffen. Whatever it is, it’s enough to dampen your mood entirely.
Beomgyu senses this immediately, the way your jaw tightens, the way you start to chew on your bottom lip. He withdraws, but doesn’t leave. He pulls his fingers away from your side and gently takes your phone from you, putting it off to the side as he sits up, scooping you into his lap for a change. He settles you sideways, hand brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Hey, you’re alright, okay?” his voice is softer now, there’s not a trace of that booming tone that laces his words when he’s energetic. “We’ll figure it out together.”
That’s the thing about Beomgyu. You never walk alone, you never struggle alone. Why should you when you could share the pain? Why have a piece of happiness on your own when you could double it with him around?
I definitely think Beomgyu would love late night talks the most. It’s the most intimate version of him, when the energy drops completely. At night, there’s nothing to distract him and it allows him to just…stay and be present. At times, he talks about the most random things, something he saw on the internet. “You know they played an Ateez song on the Artemis II mission?” “What? No way!” “I know! It’s a missed opportunity for them to play ‘Over the Moon,” he adds with a shake of his head. Other times, it’s a terribly soul-bearing affair.
“I don’t know. I just…the future really freaks me out, you know?” The two of you are at the park in the middle of the day, laying in the grass, other people scattered around but right now, it’s just you and Beomgyu. He’s dragged you here after the company announced that they’re going to be prepping for a comeback so he wanted to squeeze some time in with you. He’s laying straight on his back, gazing up at the sky and you’re laying the other way (think The Fault in Our Stars film poster). You hum, nodding to his words. “No, I get it, Beom. I think most of the world would understand. What’s making you think this way?”
He sighs, turning his head to look at you, a small pout on his lips from the uncertainty of the situation. “Not sure…guess the vastness of sky reminded me of the future. And the fact that contract renewals are coming up and I don’t know if-”
“-hey. It’s gonna be okay. you’re gonna be okay,” you interrupt, turning to look at him, your nose just barely brushing over his. “One step at a time and…I’m pretty confident in the fact that the rest of the guys want to keep the group together.” Beomgyu smiles and rubs the tip of his nose over your cheek. “You’re right.”
There’s softness underneath a few layers of humour. Not that his teasing isn’t him, but he’s able to be both sides of himself when he’s with you.
Kang Taehyun
Okay, so for Taehyun, because he’s a smarty pants, i could soooooooo see him loving intellectual and deep conversations
He’d loooveeee to tell you all the things he’s discovered but he’d love it even more listening to you talk about your passions and interests
He’s all about learning: learning your love languages, learning your fears to keep you safe, learning what makes you bloom out of happiness, and just learning about you in general!
With learning comes observation and Taehyun is observant alright, allowing him to be super attentive towards you and your needs
He adjusts how he speaks to you based on your moods. If you’re feeling glum, he knows to keep the teasing at pay, he doesn’t push. If you’re excited about something, he matches your energy, not wanting you to feel silly.
He helps you in ways that are uncannily timed
You had offhandedly told him that eating at university kind of makes you anxious because the cafeteria is too loud, too overwhelming. The next time you have a long day of classes, which only happens on Wednesdays, he messages you after your two back-to-back classes, knowing that you had an hour and a half window to grab lunch before your next one.
“Hey, come out of the building for me, sweetheart :))” simple and direct, but it still makes your heart flutter, especially in confusion because isn’t today his day off??? Shouldn’t he be resting??? You scurry out of the campus building, only to find Taehyun leaning against a banister at the end of the concrete staircase, arms crossed and when he sees you walk through the door, he doesn’t grin the way Yeonjun or Beomgyu would, but his face softens.
“Tae? What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?” you ask, pressing a kiss to his cheek and allowing him to tuck you into his side. “I am resting. Got my baby here with me, that’s all I need.” You roll your eyes at his response but he sees the way you blush at same time and a slow smile draws on his face. “Besides, you usually have lunch at this time and I thought it would be nice to take you to a proper place. I know you don’t like how loud it is in there,” he tacks on, head gesturing towards the building. Incredulously, you stare back at him, unable to say anything for a few seconds because you’ve only said thing once. Taehyun chuckles and brings a hand to the small of your back to guide you away. “Don’t look so surprised, baby. I listen.”
I don’t think Taehyun would be too into PDA. Like yes, he loves physical affection but he kind of keeps it to a minimum in public. I think he’d be more into eye contact, especially since he has such an intense, magnetic gaze
His eyes tell the whole story and when you lock eyes, it grounds and stabilizes you. One look from Taehyun speaks much more than words can.
You could be at a fancier dinner with him and his members. It’s a little out of your comfort zone but he asked you to come and how could you say no to his boba eyes? You’re sat next to him but you aren’t given a chance to converse with him as the other members fill up the space with their own words. It gets a bit overwhelming when voices start to overlap with one another, mingled with the doubt that you’re in a place where you don’t fit it and you fall silent, but still having a nice time.
Taehyun notices almost immediately and he turns his head to look at you, his face turned down ever so slightly, looking at you through his lashes with a soft look, silently asking you “are you okay?” you nod, giving him a small smile but he sees you’re not telling the full truth, so his hand finds yours underneath the table and gives you three small squeezes. I. Love. You.
Taehyun’s intimacy is being understood in a way that’s quiet but very very real. It’s never feeling dismissed or overlooked, and even though he’s not overtly expressive, he’s actively considering you, offering security in your relationship with him
Hueningkai
With Hueningkai, because he’s such a cuddlebug, intimacy is immediately accessible, but it deepens as time goes on
It starts off easy: he reaches for your hand without a second thought, comes up behind you for a hug, his strong arms circling around your waist and rocking you side to side with his chin resting on your shoulder
For him, touch is the most natural thing in the world but as your relationship with him deepens, those simple gestures from before gain emotional weight. He attaches himself to you when he’s quiet, not just playful, he leans on you when he’s unsure, and his hugs will linger, as if he’s grounding himself
Omg you know that one live where a MOA commented that their stomach was hurting and he starts to wave his hands in circles like he’s patting their stomach??? He would DEFINITELY do that in real life
You truly don’t know what’s up. Your stomach’s been hurting for the past half hour and you’ve done everything right: you’ve eaten, you’ve gone to the bathroom, you’ve taken a painkiller, so what’s happening? You’re curled up in your bed, laying in a fetus position, having left Kai to his own devices while he was playing a game on the PC with beomgyu. Normally, you’d be sitting with him in the living room, humming to yourself as you do your own task but he noticed how eerily quiet the room was. “‘Kay, I’m hopping off for the day,” Kai says, not giving his bandmate time to complain as he clicks out of the game. Sliding his headphones off, he gets up from the desk and looks around, brows furrowing when you’re not on the couch like you usually are. “y/n?” he calls out, only to be met with silence.
He walks further into the apartment, stepping into the bedroom and sees you in bed, blanket covering your form, small whimpers of pain escaping your mouth, and he genuinely physically wilts when he sees you like this. “y/nnie, what’s wrong?” he asks, now standing at the side of the bed before crouching, hand resting on your forehead and brushing strands of your hair back.
“Stomach hurts,” is all you say in a whisper, eyes fluttering shut from the pain. A frown pulls on his lips and he gets up, walking to the other side of the bed to join you in laying, his chest pressing against your back, one arm wrapping around you so his hand rests on your tummy. “I’m sorry, bubs,” he whispers into your hair, hand starting to rub circles over your shirt. “And you already took something for it, huh?” he adds, eyes flickering to the half-closed bottle of pills on the nightstand. “Yeah but…your hand’s warm…feels nice,” you mumble, already feeling the tension in your stomach lessen from his warmth. “Yeah? Guess I’ve got the magic touch.” That may be an understatement because you fall asleep within a few minutes and even when you’re in deep sleep, he doesn’t leave. He keeps his hand on your stomach, his breath softly brushing against your hair as he himself joins you in sleep.
Maybe self-indulgent because I’m Kai biased and a #romantic, but I think he would definitely do a princess spins with you, especially if you come bearing good news. The craziest part is that he doesn’t even mean to, he just gets so caught up in your happiness that he externalizes it on instinct
Linking pinkies with you too, he thinks it’s so cute OR OMG he would be so silly and charming just to get giggles out of you
You’ve wrapped up a date with him and he drops you off at the apartment before leaving to go to HYBE for the rest of the day. He’s holding hands with you and you’re trying to let go to go inside but he won’t let you!!! “Hold on,” he says softly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “That’s for a goodbye. And this-” another kiss. “That’s for you to keep for later.”
“Kai!” you giggle, bonking your head with his. “You’re so silly. I’ll see you in a few hours!” he shrugs, shooting you a boyish smile with hearts in his eyes cuz he’s that smitten with you, even if you’re deep in the relationship with him.
Oh, that’s another thing too. No matter how long you’ve been dating, he’ll always keep things playful and light THIS CUTIE UGH
Anyways, safe to say, with Hueningkai, you never have to doubt your relationship with him because he’s open and always ready to offer hugs and kisses. With him, it’s emotional and physical closeness that’s easy to access, but still meaningful
★ synopsis:
a day before valentine's day, kang taehyun notices your lingering gaze on couples with roses and chocolates. he teases you about practicality, his logic sharp as ever, yet the next day unfolds with deliberate surprises that blur the line between reason and something deeper.
what begins as a calculated escape ends in warmth you never expected—subtle, intimate, and undeniably his.
★ pairing: boyfriend!taehyun x fem!reader
★ genre: fluff, romance, eventual smut (18+ mdni!) with a plot, established relationship
★ song reco: bad - wave to earth
★ status | word count: completed | 6.8k
★ao3: practical
note: first taehyun fic! a valentine's day inspired one for our february baby <3
i added the word count because someone asked me to add word counts to my posts! i’ve added it to past works and will continue moving forward! (i didn't know it was helpful to readers so thank you to the one who asked me to add it!)
happy valentine's day and enjoy! <3
The late afternoon sun slanted through the tall glass windows of the café, turning the wooden tables into warm amber patches.
Outside, the streets of Seoul buzzed with an unusual energy for February 13th—couples everywhere, laughing, arms linked, carrying those telltale red-and-pink paper bags from florists and chocolatiers. Bouquets of roses wrapped in cellophane rustled against coat sleeves; heart-shaped boxes peeked out from under scarves.
It was as if the city had decided to rehearse Valentine's Day a day early, everyone eager to beat the crowds tomorrow.
You sat across from Taehyun at a small corner table, your iced Americano sweating rings onto the coaster. He was slouched comfortably in his chair, legs stretched out under the table so his sneakers brushed yours every now and then. His black button-up shirt was pulled up his elbows just enough to show his veins whenever his hands flexed as his observant eyes flicked toward the window every few seconds.
A young couple passed right by the glass, the girl clutching an enormous bouquet of white peonies and red tulips like it was a trophy. The guy beside her balanced a gold-foil box of chocolates in one hand and her waist with the other. They were giggling about something, heads bent close.
Taehyun's gaze lingered on them for a beat longer than necessary then he leaned forward, elbows on the table, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"They're a day early, aren't they?" he said, voice low and amused. "Valentine's isn't until tomorrow. What's the rush?"
You followed his line of sight, watching the couple disappear around the corner. "Maybe they just couldn't wait. Or they hate lines."
He snorted softly, the sound more exhale than laugh. "Still. Flowers wilt in like, twelve hours if you don't put them in water right away. And chocolate? Melts if you carry it around too long in this weather. Not practical at all."
He tapped his fingers once against the table, decisive. "Waste of money if you ask me."
You couldn't help but chuckle, the sound bubbling up warm and familiar. It was classic Taehyun—cutting straight through the sentimentality with that razor-sharp logic of his. Always observing, assessing, and deciding what actually made sense. No fluff, no wasted effort.
He'd always been like this, ever since the early days when he'd show up at your door with a single rose and a box of dark chocolate truffles, eyes bright with that boyish excitement. Back then, you'd smiled politely, thanked him, and after a few dates gently nudged him toward practicality.
"You know I'd rather you just... got me something useful," you'd told him once, laughing to soften it. "Like coffee. Or that new phone case I needed. Flowers are pretty for a day, but then they're just trash."
He'd looked at you for a long second, processing. Then he nodded once, sharp and final. "Got it."
And that was that. The flowers stopped and the chocolates became rare treats only on your birthday or when he felt like spoiling you with zero occasion.
Instead, he started showing up with your favorite iced latte on stressful days, or a new pair of wireless earbuds when yours broke, or tickets to that indie band you'd mentioned once in passing.
Practical.
Efficient.
You never regretted saying it because you were the same as he was. Practical. Thoughtful in the way that actually lasted.
But sometimes, on days like today when the city smelled like roses and sugar, a tiny, secret part of you wondered what it would feel like to be one of those girls carrying armfuls of petals home.
Taehyun caught your expression—the slight softening around your eyes as another couple walked by with matching red heart balloons. He tilted his head, studying you the way he studied everything: quick, thorough, no detail missed.
"What?" he asked, voice teasing but gentle. "You want one?"
You rolled your eyes, nudging his foot under the table. "Don't start. You know I'd just complain about the pollen."
"True." He grinned, all teeth and mischief. "You'd sneeze for three days straight and blame me."
"Exactly." He leaned back again, stretching his arms above his head until his shirt rode up just enough to show a sliver of toned stomach. Casual. Effortless. The kind of movement that still made your pulse jump after all this time.
"Anyway," he said, dropping his arms and picking up his own drink, "we're not doing any of that tomorrow."
You raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"Nope." He set the cup down with a soft clink. "Got something better planned."
"Better than flowers and chocolate?" you teased.
He met your eyes, steady. "Way better."
There was no elaboration. Just that quiet confidence, the kind that came from already having everything mapped out in his head. Taehyun didn't do vague promises; when he said something was handled, it was.
You let it drop, content to let the mystery sit. That was another thing about him—he loved surprises, but only the kind he controlled. The kind where he could see the variables, calculate the outcome, and know it'd land perfectly.
The two of you finished your drinks in comfortable silence, his foot still brushing yours every so often like an absentminded anchor. When you stood to leave, he automatically grabbed your bag before you could, slinging it over his own shoulder.
Outside, the air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of street food and exhaust. Couples were still everywhere, posing for photos with their bouquets, laughing as petals caught in the wind. Taehyun slipped his hand into yours without fanfare, fingers threading through yours with the ease of long habit.
"Tomorrow," he said as you walked, "wear something comfortable. No heels."
You glanced at him sideways. "Mysterious."
He just smirked again. "You'll see."
That night, you lay in bed replaying the café moment, the way his eyes had flicked to those couples, the quick logic that dismissed the romance as inefficient, the easy way he'd shut down any hint of wanting it himself.
It didn't sting, exactly. You knew him. Knew he showed love in actions that stuck around longer than a vase of flowers ever could. Still, as you drifted off, you let yourself imagine—just for a second—what it would be like if he ever decided practicality could include a little impracticality.
The next morning was Valentine's Day and it dawned cold and clear and you woke to the smell of coffee already brewing in your kitchen.
Taehyun must have used his spare key; he did that sometimes when his schedule let him steal early hours. You padded out in oversized sweats and fuzzy socks, hair still messy from sleep. He was at the counter, pouring two mugs, wearing a black hoodie paired with dark jeans and sneakers that looked ready for walking. His hair was slightly damp, like he'd showered recently, and the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows.
"Morning," he said without turning around. "Coffee's ready. Black, like you pretend to like when you're trying to be healthy."
You laughed, sliding onto a stool. "I do like it black sometimes."
"Sure you do." He turned, sliding your mug across the counter. Then he leaned against the edge, arms crossed, watching you take the first sip.You noticed the small paper bag on the counter beside him—simple brown kraft, no ribbon, no hearts. Practical packaging.
"What's that?" you asked, nodding toward it.
He followed your gaze, then shrugged one shoulder. "Open it later. After we eat."
Breakfast was quick with toast, eggs he'd scrambled with precision, and fruit sliced into neat pieces. He ate standing up, scrolling through his phone with one hand, occasionally glancing up to make sure you were eating too.
When the plates were cleared after he insisted on washing them himself, he finally picked up the bag and held it out.
"Here."
You took it curiously, noticing how it was heavier than it looked. Inside, nestled in tissue paper was a pink thermos, matte finish, the kind that kept drinks hot for twelve hours or cold for twenty-four. Engraved on the side in small silver lettering was your name.
You looked up at him, eyebrows raised and he rubbed the back of his neck, a rare flicker of something almost sheepish crossing his face.
"You always complain your coffee gets cold when we're out. Figured this would fix it."
You turned the thermos over in your hands, feeling the solid weight of it. It was exactly your style—minimal, functional, thoughtful.
"It's perfect."
"Good." He nodded once, satisfied. "Now grab your coat. We're leaving in ten."
The surprise unfolded piece by piece, the way Taehyun liked things: controlled reveals, each step building momentum. First, he drove you to a quiet park on the outskirts of the city, a small wooded area with winding trails and a frozen pond that reflected the sky like glass. He pulled a backpack from the trunk and slung it over one shoulder.
"Hiking?" you guessed.
"Sort of." He took your hand again. "Trust me."
The trail was easy at first, crunching leaves underfoot, the air sharp with pine. He walked ahead sometimes, pointing out little things like a bird's nest tucked in branches, a frozen stream that looked like twisted glass, his voice low and excited in that understated way of his.
.Halfway up, he stopped at a clearing. Someone had set up a small pop-up tent—nothing fancy, just insulated walls and a portable heater humming softly inside.
A folding table held a spread: sandwiches wrapped in parchment, fresh fruit, a thermos (that matched yours, but in a sky blue color) of hot chocolate, and—unexpectedly—a small Bluetooth speaker playing soft music.
You stared. "You planned this?"
He shrugged, but his eyes were bright. "Scouted it last week. Owner lets me use it sometimes when it's empty. Figured it'd be better than fighting crowds downtown."
Inside the tent, it was warm, cozy. Blankets on the floor, cushions. You sat cross-legged, watching him unpack everything with efficient movements before he reached into the backpack again.
This time, he pulled out a bouquet. It wasn’t huge nor extravagant. Just a tight bundle of deep red camellia and a few sprigs of eucalyptus for green contrast tied with plain twine.
Your breath caught as he held it out, casual as if handing you a water bottle.
"For you."
You took it slowly, fingers brushing his. "Taehyun..."
"Don't make a big deal," he said quickly, looking away toward the heater like it needed adjusting. "They're not roses. Roses are cliché and overpriced. These last longer, don't smell, won't make you sneeze. Practical."
You stared at the flowers, then at him. He was still avoiding your eyes, jaw tight like he was bracing for teasing but you didn't tease.
Instead, you set the bouquet carefully on the blanket beside you, then leaned forward and kissed him—soft at first, then deeper when his hands found your waist and pulled you closer.
When you pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, breath uneven."You said you didn't like flowers," he murmured against your lips.
"I said I didn't like wasteful ones." You touched the camellias gently. "These... aren't wasteful."
He exhaled a laugh, low and relieved. "Good. Because I wasn't sure. I kept thinking about yesterday—how you looked at those couples. Figured maybe I was missing something."
You shook your head. "You weren't. You just... you always give me what lasts."
He studied you for a long moment, then nodded once. "Yeah. But sometimes lasting includes a little stupid romance, right?"
"Right."
He kissed you again—this time slower, hands framing your face like he was memorizing it. When he pulled away, he reached into the bag one last time. A small box of dark chocolate truffles. The expensive kind he used to bring in the beginning of your budding relationship.
"Last surprise," he said. "Not practical. Just... because."
You laughed, the sound muffled against his shoulder as you leaned into him. "You're ridiculous."
"Logically ridiculous," he corrected, wrapping an arm around you.
Outside, the wind rustled the trees. Inside, the heater hummed, the music played softly, and the camellias sat bright against the blanket—proof that even the most practical heart could bend, just a little, when it mattered.
The rest of the day passed in lazy perfection: eating, talking, stealing kisses between stories. He told you about scouting the spot, how he'd tested the heater twice to make sure it wouldn't fail. You teased him for over-planning a "spontaneous" date and he just grinned, unbothered.
As the sun dipped low, painting the snow gold, he packed everything up with the same efficiency he'd arrived with. But before you left the tent, he picked up the bouquet and pressed it into your hands again.
"Keep them," he said. "Even if they die eventually. At least they lasted longer than the cliché ones."
You smiled, holding them close. “Of course,” you murmured, smiling small and soft. “I’m not letting these go anywhere.”
He nodded once—sharp, satisfied—then bent to zip the backpack. But he didn’t stand right away. Instead he stayed crouched there for a beat, looking out through the open tent flap at the trail disappearing into the shadowed trees. The first stars were already pricking through the violet sky, faint and cold.
“I wanted to stay longer,” he said suddenly, almost like the words had slipped out before he could catch them. “Watch the stars come out properly with you. Lie back, point out constellations, the whole thing.”
He huffed a short laugh, self-deprecating. “But the trail’s not lit. No markers past the first bend. If we wait too long we’ll be stumbling around in the dark, and I didn’t bring headlamps. Or a map. Or backup batteries.” He rubbed the back of his neck, the gesture quick and familiar. “Not worth the risk. We’d end up cold, lost, and then I’d have to carry you out piggyback while you complain on my back.”
You laughed—the sound bright against the quiet—and reached out to tug lightly on the sleeve of his hoodie.
“Always planning three steps ahead.”
He squeezed your hand once. “Next time,” he said, voice low and certain, “we stay for the stars.”
You smiled, holding the camellias a little tighter. “Next time,” you echoed.
His decision was practical, yes. But also, undeniably, romantic in the way only Taehyun could be: deliberate, thoughtful, and surprising.
The walk back down the trail felt different—not just because the light had shifted to that soft, bruised purple of late winter dusk, but because the camellias were still in your hands. Their petals caught the last slivers of sun like small dark flames.
Taehyun walked beside you, his pace deliberately slowed so you didn’t have to hurry. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding yours as he squeezed every few minutes like he was checking if you were still there.
He didn’t speak much on the descent but it wasn’t awkward. Silence was normal for him after something emotionally high-stakes. He processed in silence, turning the afternoon over in his head the way he’d turn a Rubik’s cube until every side matched.
You could almost see the gears moving behind his eyes—did the heater stay warm enough? Was the chocolate too bitter? Did the flowers feel like too much after all these months of steering him away from them?
You broke the quiet first. “You really planned all of this in a week?”
He glanced over, mouth quirking. “Ten days, technically. Had to wait for the owner to confirm the tent wasn’t booked.” A small shrug. “Wanted to make sure everything lined up. Weather forecast, sunset timing, how long the trail takes at your walking speed.”
You laughed under your breath. “You timed my walking speed?”
“Rough estimate.” He tapped his temple. “I pay attention.”
Of course he did. He always did.
He noticed you shivered when iced drinks sat too long, so he bought the thermos.
He noticed you always forgot gloves in winter, so last December he’d slipped a pair of thin, touchscreen-compatible ones into your coat pocket without a word.
The parking lot was nearly empty when you reached it. Only two other cars, both with couples still inside, windows fogged, probably stealing the last few minutes before heading home to whatever Valentine’s dinner they’d booked.
Taehyun unlocked the doors with a quiet beep and opened the passenger side for you out of habit. Before you could slide in, he stopped you with a light touch on your elbow.
“Wait.”
You turned. He was looking at the camellias again, then at you, expression unreadable for a second.
“I almost didn’t bring them,” he admitted. Voice low, like the confession cost him something to say out loud. “Kept thinking about what you said back then—how you’d rather have something practical. I didn’t want to… I don’t know. Make you feel like I wasn’t listening.”
Your chest tightened. “Taehyun—”
“But then yesterday at the café,” he continued, cutting himself off before you could interrupt, “you looked at those people with the big stupid roses and I could see it. Not jealousy, exactly. Just… curiosity? Like maybe part of you wondered what it felt like to be given the cliché thing anyway.”
He noticed that too, you thought.
He exhaled through his nose, short and sharp. “So I figured—worst case, you laugh at me and we use the flowers as kindling later. Best case…” He gestured vaguely at the bouquet. “You smile like that.”
You hadn’t realized you were smiling until he pointed it out.He rubbed the back of his neck again—the same nervous action from earlier in the tent.
“Anyway. Point is, I’m not gonna make it a habit. Flowers every week would be wasteful and you’d get sick of them in like, two months. But once in a while? When it actually means something?” He met your eyes, steady. “I can do that.”
The cold air stung your cheeks, but you barely felt it.
“You’re allowed to want things that aren’t one-hundred-percent logical, you know,” you said softly.
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, well. Working on it.”
You stepped closer, rising on your toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Thank you. For all of it. Even the illogical parts.”
He caught your waist before you could pull away, kissing you properly this time—slow, thorough, the way he did when he wanted to make sure you felt every second of it. When he finally let go, his forehead rested against yours for a beat.
“Get in,” he murmured. “Heater’s already on. Don’t want you freezing while I’m trying to be romantic.”
You laughed and slid into the passenger seat, cradling the camellias carefully on your lap like they were made of glass.
The drive back into the city was quiet again, but comfortable. Taehyun kept the radio low—some chill R&B playlist he’d made months ago because he knew you liked certain tracks. Every so often his fingers would find yours over the center console, thumb brushing your knuckles absentmindedly.
When you reached your apartment building, he parked but didn’t turn off the engine right away.
“Still early,” he said. “You hungry for actual dinner or…?”
You tilted your head. “You didn’t book anything?”
“Didn’t want to lock us into a time slot in case you hated the tent idea and wanted to bail early.”
Of course he’d think of that too. Contingency plans for everything.
“But there’s that ramen place you like” He continued, “the one with the spicy broth that makes your nose run. Or we can just order in. Your call.”
You considered it. The idea of sitting in a crowded restaurant right now, surrounded by other couples doing the full Valentine’s performance, felt suddenly exhausting. You wanted more of this—the two of you, no audience, no pressure.
“Let’s order in,” you decided. “And you’re staying, right?”
He looked almost offended that you’d asked. “Obviously.”
Upstairs, the apartment smelled faintly of flowers from the candle you’d burned last night. Taehyun kicked off his shoes by the door, hung both your coats, then disappeared into the kitchen like he lived there.
Which, functionally, he practically did.
You set the camellias on the dining table, arranging them in the only vase you owned—a plain white ceramic cylinder he’d bought you last summer because ‘your old one leaked and stained the wood.’
While he scrolled through the delivery app, muttering about how the restaurant always forgot extra chili oil unless you wrote it in all caps, you slipped into the bedroom to change.
Comfy sweats, one of his old oversized hoodies he left in your apartment months ago, and fuzzy socks. When you came back out he was already on the couch, legs spread, phone balanced on his thigh, looking completely at home.
He glanced up. Paused. His gaze did that slow sweep it always did when you wore his clothes—possessive, appreciative, a little smug.
“Looks better on you,” he said simply.You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the flush.
“Flattery isn’t practical.” you huffed.
“Doesn’t have to be.” He patted the cushion beside him. “Come here”
You curled into his side, head on his shoulder, legs draped over his lap. He wrapped one arm around you automatically, thumb rubbing slow circles against your upper arm through the fabric while the other kept scrolling until he hit submit on the order.
“Twenty-eight minutes,” he announced. “Plenty of time.”
You blinked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “Plenty of time for what?”
He didn’t answer with words.Instead he surged up, one hand cupping the back of your neck to hold you exactly where he wanted, the other sliding to your hip with a bruising grip, and kissed you hard.
It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming—teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to sting sweetly, tongue sweeping in deep and wet and possessive, stroking against yours in slow, deliberate drags that made your head spin.
You made a small, helpless sound into his mouth; he swallowed it greedily, tilted his head to take the kiss even deeper, licking into you like he was trying to taste every corner.
His hands then started roaming.
Everywhere.
One palm shoved up under the hoodie you were wearing, rough fingertips skating over the soft skin of your ribs, then higher, cupping one breast fully through the thin bra.
He squeezed firmly, his thumb unhurriedly circling the already-pebbled nipple until it ached, then pinching just enough to make you gasp into his mouth. The other hand slid down the curve of your spine, fingers splaying wide over your ass, kneading the flesh before pulling you down harder against the thick, insistent ridge of him straining behind denim.
You rocked instinctively, grinding down on the hard length of him; he groaned low and guttural against your tongue, the sound vibrating through your chest and straight to your core. He broke the kiss only to drag his open mouth along your jaw, down the sensitive column of your throat, teeth scraping over your racing pulse before he sucked a mark there—hard enough to bloom purple by morning, soft enough that you arched into it instead of pulling away.
“Plenty of time,” he repeated against your skin, voice rough and wrecked, lips brushing with every word, “to get you so wet I can feel you soaking through my jeans before the food gets here.”
The bluntness delivered in that calm tone sent a fresh gush of heat between your legs. He shifted you in one fluid motion, flipping your positions so your back hit the cushions and he loomed above you, one knee braced between your thighs, the other planted on the floor for leverage.
The hoodie rode up to your ribs and he didn’t bother fixing it, shoving it higher with both hands, bunching the fabric under your armpits, exposing the lace of your bra and the way your chest rose and fell in shallow pants.
His gaze dropped, dark and ravenous. “Look at you,” he muttered, more to himself, voice thick.
One hand closed over your left breast again, kneading slowly while the other yanked the bra cups down in a single rough tug. Your breasts spilled free into the cool air, nipples already tight and flushed.
He made a low, appreciative sound in his throat before leaning down and took one peak into his mouth. Tongue flat and hot, he circled once, twice, then sucked—hard, rhythmic pulls that matched the slow, deliberate roll of his hips down into yours.
The rough denim scraped against the thin barrier of your sweats, friction brutal and perfect against your swollen clit. You threaded your fingers into his dark hair, tugging hard. He growled around your nipple, before switching sides—teeth grazing the sensitive bud just enough to make you cry out before soothing it with slow, wet laps of his tongue.
His free hand slid lower, under the waistband of your sweats and past the damp lace of your underwear, straight to where you were already slick and throbbing. Two fingers parted your folds, slid through the wetness with obscene ease, then pressed flat against your clit in a slow, firm circle that made your hips buck.
“Fuck,” you breathed, head falling back against the cushion.
“Language,” he said against your breast, voice muffled and dark. “But I’ll give you a pass since that’s the response I want.”
He rubbed again—tighter circles now, pressure steady. “Twenty-five minutes left.” He breathed. “Plenty of time to map exactly how many times I can make you come before the doorbell.”
He sounded almost proud of his own ruthless efficiency. You would have laughed if your breath weren’t already coming in short, desperate pants.
You arched harder, chasing his fingers. He rewarded you by slipping one inside—slow, deliberate—curling immediately to that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
“Another,” you managed, voice cracking and hee didn’t hesitate. Second finger joined the first, stretching you beautifully, pumping in a steady, deep rhythm while his thumb took over your clit—small, relentless circles that never faltered.
The wet, filthy sounds of his fingers moving inside you filled the room, louder than your own ragged breathing. He lifted his head to watch your face—eyes locked on yours, pupils blown so wide only a thin ring of iris remained.
“Twenty-two minutes,” he rasped, voice wrecked but still steady. “You’re clenching so fucking tight already. Gonna come for me like this? All over my hand before the noodles arrive?”
You could only nod, words gone, hips rocking desperately onto his fingers. He kissed you again—messy, open-mouthed, swallowing every broken whimper as he worked you faster. Fingers curling deeper with every thrust, thumb pressing harder, the rhythm never faltering.
Practical.
Precise.
Devastating.
When you shattered it hit like a freight train, your back bowing off the couch, thighs clamping around his wrist, a choked cry tearing from your throat as pleasure ripped through you in sharp, blinding waves. He didn’t stop, just slowed his movements, curling gently to draw it out until you were trembling, oversensitive, gasping against his shoulder.
Taehyun withdrew his fingers slowly, glistening with your release, and brought them to his mouth—licking them clean with slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue while holding your dazed gaze shamelessly satisfied with what he’d done. Then he glanced at his watch.
“Eighteen minutes left,” he said, already working his belt open with one hand, the metal clinking softly. “Enough time to fuck you properly… and still have time to wash my hands before I tip the delivery guy.”
You laughed—breathless, dazed, thighs still shaking. He leaned down, kissed you softer this time, almost tender as he reached for the waistband of your sweats, tugging them along with your soaked underwear—down your thighs in one efficient motion.
“Lift,” he instructed, voice rough with want and you followed.
He shoved his jeans and boxers down just enough, freeing his cock—thick, flushed dark at the tip, already leaking. The sight of him made your mouth water, made fresh heat coil low in your belly.
He notched himself at your entrance, rubbing the head through your slick folds once, twice, coating himself until he glistened.
“Condom?” you asked, even as your hips lifted toward him instinctively.
“Already on the table,” he said, nodding toward the small foil packet he’d apparently placed there sometime in the last few minutes—because of course he’d prepared. “But if you want me bare tonight…”
You swallowed hard. “Yes. Please.”
He exhaled sharply through his nose, something almost feral flashing in his eyes.Then he pushed in slowly, letting you feel every thick inch as he stretched you open, until his hips met yours and he was buried to the hilt.
You both groaned—low, broken sounds that mingled in the quiet room.He stayed still for a heartbeat, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “So tight… so wet… so…perfect.”
“Language” you teased, repeating his words earlier and he just groaned.
Then he started moving.Slow, deep rolls at first—pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in, grinding against your clit with every thrust. Each stroke dragged against that sensitive spot inside, building the pressure again impossibly fast.
“Feel that?” he rasped, voice wrecked. “How deep I am? How you’re taking every inch?”
You could only whimper, nails digging into his shoulders through his shirt. He picked up speed—harder now, hips snapping forward with controlled force, the couch creaking under you both. One hand braced beside your head, the other slid between you, thumb finding your clit again, rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts.
“Fourteen minutes,” he growled against your ear. “Gonna make you come on my cock before the timer runs out. Then I’m gonna fill you up so deep you’ll feel me all night.”
The filthy promise tipped you over the edge, coming with a cry, walls fluttering and clenching around him, milking him as wave after wave crashed through you. He fucked you through it, hips stuttering only when your spasms pulled a low, guttural moan from his throat.
When the aftershocks finally faded he slowed, grinding deep instead of thrusting, letting you ride the lingering pleasure.
Then he pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the loss, and flipped you onto your stomach, tugged your hips up, and slid back in from behind in one smooth stroke.
“Last one,” he murmured, voice strained. “Gonna come inside you now.”
He thrusted hard then—fast, deep, one hand wrapped around your hip, the other sliding up your spine to fist in your hair, pulling just enough to arch your back. The new angle let him hit even deeper, the head of his cock dragging against that spot with every brutal thrust.
You pushed back to meet him, desperate, needy sounds spilling from your lips.He reached around, fingers finding your clit again—rubbing fast, merciless circles.
“Come with me,” he ordered, voice breaking for the first time. “Now.”
You shattered a third time—harder than before, vision whiting out, body shaking as you pulsed around him. He followed seconds later—hips slamming forward one last time, burying himself deep as he came with a choked groan, spilling hot and thick inside you, pulse after pulse until you were both trembling.
He stayed buried inside you for a long, suspended moment, chest heaving against your back, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck. His lips found your skin there—soft, reverent kisses scattered along the sweat-damp curve, as though grounding himself in the aftershock. His arms bracketed you, one hand splayed wide over your stomach, holding you close while the other braced beside your head to keep his weight from crushing you.
Then he exhaled a long shaky breath and glanced at his watch one final time.
“Three minutes to spare,” he murmured, voice hoarse but satisfied. “Plenty of time to clean up… and still answer the door like nothing happened.”
He pulled out slowly—carefully—both of you hissing sharply at the sudden emptiness and the flare of oversensitivity. The slick heat of his release immediately began to slip out, warm and thick, trailing down your inner thighs. You felt it—intimate, messy, undeniable—and a fresh shiver ran through you at the sensation.
Taehyun noticed instantly.
Without a word he shifted back just enough to reach the side table. He’d already placed everything he might need within arm’s reach earlier—because of course he had: a small stack of soft tissues, a clean hand towel folded neatly, and an unopened bottle of water.
Practical. Ruthlessly prepared. Always three steps ahead.
“Stay here,” he murmured, voice still rough around the edges but steady again. “Don’t move yet. I’ll get the food. And a towel. And water.”
You nodded weakly, limbs heavy, body humming with aftershocks. The couch cushions were cool against your flushed skin as you collapsed fully onto your stomach, cheek pressed to the fabric, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne that clung to everything he touched.
He moved with that same efficient grace—jeans tugged back up just enough to be decent, belt loosely buckled, hair still a beautiful disaster. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and you heard the faucet run, the soft rustle of a fresh towel being pulled from the cabinet. Then, he was back, kneeling beside you on the floor.
He draped the warm, damp towel over your lower back first then gently guided it between your thighs, cleaning you with careful, unhurried strokes.No awkwardness, no hesitation; just quiet focus, like this was simply the next logical step in the sequence he’d already mapped out.
“You okay?” he asked softly, thumb brushing a soothing circle over your hip where his grip had left faint pink imprints earlier.
“More than okay.” You managed to say, releasing a small, blissed-out hum.
Without a word, he reached for the rucked-up fabric bunched around your ribs, now twisted high enough that your breasts and stomach were fully exposed to the cool air of the apartment. His fingers gathered the hem gently, tugging it downward in one slow, careful motion.
The soft cotton slid over your skin like a whisper—first covering your breasts, then gliding past your navel, finally settling at mid-thigh where it had always belonged on you. He smoothed it flat against your sides with both palms, fingers lingering at your waist for a second longer than necessary, as though making sure every inch of you was shielded again. The gesture was simple, almost absentminded, but the care in it made your chest tighten.
“There,” he murmured against the shell of your ear, voice low and rough from overuse.
He leaned down, kissed your temple, then stood again. The doorbell rang right on cue as he glanced at his watch, a tiny satisfied quirk to his mouth.
“Right on time.” he said, voice steady again, though his hair was still a complete disaster and there were faint red crescents from your nails on his shoulders. He adjusted himself one last time, smoothed his shirt down, and headed for the door—calm, collected, utterly composed.
You watched him go, boneless and blissed-out, legs still weak, a stupid, happy smile tugging at your lips as the scent of spicy ramen began to drift in from the hallway.
He set everything on the coffee table, then came back to you with a bottle of water already uncapped.
“Drink,” he said, sliding an arm under your shoulders to help you sit up slowly. “Hydration first. Then food.”
You took the bottle with shaky fingers, sipping while he arranged the containers—chopsticks, extra chili oil (he’d remembered to request it in all caps), napkins fanned out neatly. Only when you’d taken a few solid swallows did he finally let himself sit beside you, pulling you gently against his side.
The ramen was perfect—broth spicy enough to make your eyes water, noodles springy, extra chashu because he remembered what you liked, and it was still steaming as he handed you your bowl first, then took his own.
You ate in a companionable quiet for a while, the only sounds were the soft slurp of noodles and the occasional satisfied hum from him when he got a particularly good bite. Halfway through your bowl you caught him watching you again.
“What?”
He shook his head once. “Nothing. Just… glad you liked today.”
“I loved today.”
“Good.” He set his chopsticks down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because I was ninety-two percent sure you would, but there’s always that eight percent margin for error.”
You snorted. “You’re such a nerd”
“Maybe” He leaned back, stretching both arms along the couch behind you. “But it made today successful. I calculated the weather, your mood after work yesterday, whether you’d think the tent was weird instead of cozy, whether camellias would feel like a cop-out compared to roses…” He ticked them off on his fingers. “High confidence overall.”
“You’re insane.”
“Logically insane,” he corrected, the smirk returning—slow, self-satisfied, the same one he’d worn when he’d announced the twenty-eight-minute countdown earlier.
You leaned over and kissed the smirk right off his face, tasting the lingering spice of chili oil that still clung to his lips from dinner. He hummed into it, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb brushing the soft skin just below your ear in a gentle, absent rhythm.
When you finally pulled back, foreheads resting together, his breathing was steadier but his eyes were still dark, pupils blown wide in the dim lamplight.
Even when the practicality included making sure you came three times, came inside you exactly as promised, cleaned you up efficiently with warm towels and careful touches, and still had the ramen piping hot when it arrived—he’d managed all of it without ever breaking that calm, deliberate focus of his.
You shifted then, swinging one leg over to straddle his lap properly again, thighs bracketing his hips. The bowls were already safely on the coffee table; there was no risk of knocking them over. The hoodie he’d tugged down earlier bunched comfortably at your waist now, soft cotton riding up just enough to let his hands settle on your lower back, palms warm through the fabric, holding you close without any urgency.
He exhaled softly against your mouth, the sound almost a sigh of contentment.
“Still think flowers are impractical?” he murmured, voice low and rough, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke.
You laughed—weak and happy, the sound muffled against the crook of his neck where you’d tucked your face.
“I think you’re allowed to be a little impractical sometimes,” you whispered back, fingers threading lazily through the damp strands at his nape. “Just… don’t make it a habit. I’d hate to lose the version of you who times everything down to the second.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, the vibration rumbling through his chest and into yours. “Deal,” he said simply.
He leaned in and kissed you once more—slow, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world now that the countdowns were over, the ramen bowls sat empty on the coffee table, and the apartment carried the quiet, intimate perfume of spicy broth, lingering sex, and the clean notes of camellias drifting from the side table.
His mouth moved against yours with deliberate tenderness— lips brushing, parting, tasting, no rush to deepen it further. Just savoring. One hand slid up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking the soft skin beneath your ear in lazy, soothing arcs; the other stayed splayed at the small of your back, fingers pressing just firmly enough to keep you anchored against him, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat.
When he finally drew back only far enough that your breaths mingled, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded and dark with something softer than hunger now. The lamplight painted warm shadows across his sharp features, turning the faint red marks from your nails into quiet proof of everything that had come before.
He didn’t speak right away but exhaled once, long and steady, like he was letting the last of the day’s careful calculations slip away.
Outside the window, the city glittered with Valentine’s lights in pink and red and white. Couples were probably still walking around with wilting bouquets and half-eaten chocolate boxes but you didn’t care.
You had camellias on the table that would last another week at least, a thermos that would keep your coffee hot until next winter, and a boy whose heart operated like an extremely well-calibrated machine—precise, efficient, ruthless in its logic and still, somehow, capable of the softest, most surprising acts of love when it mattered.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby” he said, voice barely above a whisper, like the words were just for the space between you.
You rested your forehead against his again, breathing him in.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Taehyun.”
And for once, he didn’t bother calculating the odds.
TXT ♡ when their girlfriend has a really bad period [reactions]
pairing: txt x f!reader
tags: established relationship, slice of life, caretaking, domestic fluff.
summary: how the tomorrow by together members would take care of you during your period (requested).
warnings: period symptoms (migraine, nausea, cramps, back pain), blood leak.
YEONJUN
The sharp, rhythmic throbbing in your lower abdomen is what wakes you up. But the real panic sets in when you feel that familiar dampness. With a heavy sigh, you reach over to click on the bedside lamp. As you hesitantly pull back the duvet, you freeze—the light revealing exactly what you feared: a dark stain spreading across the cream-colored sheets.
Before you can even mutter a curse under your breath, you feel a shift in the mattress. Yeonjun stirs, his hair messy and eyes half-closed from sleep, but he notices your rigid posture immediately.
"Baby?" he mumbles, his voice raspy and deep. He follows your panicked gaze down to the sheets. You start to apologize, your voice trembling from the pain and the sheer frustration of it all, but he’s already moving.
He doesn't flinch. He doesn't make a face or act awkward. Instead, he reaches out and gently brushes a stray hair from your forehead. "Hey, stop. Don't you dare apologize," he says firmly "It’s not a crime, honey. Look at me."
He waits until you meet his eyes, his expression full of nothing but tenderness. "Go take a hot shower. I’ll handle the sheets. Take your time, okay? Don't rush."
While you’re in the shower, Yeonjun is a whirlwind of quiet productivity. He strips the bed, carries the laundry to start the wash, and carefully fits the fresh, clean linens onto the mattress.
When you emerge, he’s already waiting. He gently guides you back to the bed and tucks you into the fresh sheets, pulling the duvet right up to your chin.
"My poor girl," he whispers, sliding in beside you. With a soft kiss to the top of your head, he holds you close, pulling you back against his chest and letting his hand rest on top of your belly.
SOOBIN
The world feels far too loud and far too bright today. The hormonal migraine that always accompanies your period has reached its peak, making even the sound of the wind outside makes your head throb with a sharp pain. You’re curled into a tight ball, burying your face in a pillow to escape the light.
When Soobin enters the room, he doesn’t have to ask what’s wrong. He notices the way you’re shielding your eyes. He moves through the room like a ghost, his large frame surprisingly graceful as he draws the heavy curtains completely shut, plunging the room into a soothing darkness.
"I’m here, baby," he whispers, his voice barely a breath. He reaches out, gently moving the pillow away from your face so you can breathe properly, and leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple.
He stays there for a moment, his long fingers starting a slow, rhythmic massage against your temples. His touch is incredibly light, barely there, but the steady pressure helps to ground you against the pulsing pain in your head. He doesn't say another word, knowing that even his soft voice might be too much right now.
After a while, he carefully slides into bed behind you. He’s so tall and warm that he covers your entire back, acting like a human shield against the rest of the world. He stays perfectly still, his presence steady and grounding, letting you finally drift into a much-needed sleep.
BEOMGYU
You’re curled up on the sofa, clutching a pillow to your stomach as a particularly nasty cramp makes you hiss through your teeth. You feel irritable, bloated, and honestly, like you might burst into tears if someone even looks at you the wrong way.
Beomgyu walks into the living room, a joke already on the tip of his tongue, but he freezes the second he sees your expression. He doesn't skip a beat. The chaotic energy vanishes, replaced by a soft, knowing look.
"Ah, the monthly visitor is being a bully again, isn't he?" he says softly.
He knows that when you're like this, you need two things: comfort and a total mental escape. First, he gets to work on the "comfort." He disappears into the kitchen, returning with a tray of your favorite snacks—the ones he knows you only crave during this specific week. He also brings a hot water bottle, gently tucking it against your stomach so you can hug it close.
Then, he settles on the floor right by the sofa. He picks up his guitar and starts strumming a few low, melodic chords.
He begins telling you the most ridiculous, exaggerated stories about his day—half-truths and funny observations—just to see that tiny flicker of a smile on your face. He keeps his voice low and soothing, letting the music and his rambling act as a shield against the pain, staying there until he sees your tense shoulders finally relax.
TAEHYUN
When Taehyun finds you curled up in bed, your face pale from a mix of sharp cramps and a wave of nausea, he immediately gets to work with a calm, focused efficiency.
"I made you some ginger and peppermint tea," he says quietly, setting a steaming mug on the nightstand. “The ginger is for the nausea, and the peppermint should help relax your muscles. Drink it slowly, okay?”
Once you finish drinking, he notices you shifting uncomfortably, trying to find a position that doesn't make your lower back ache. Without a word, he sits behind you, prompting you to lean forward against a pile of pillows. His hands are warm and steady as he begins to apply firm, expert pressure to the small of your back.
"Is this spot okay?" he asks, his thumbs finding the exact knots of tension created by the cramps. He doesn't just rub aimlessly; he uses a technique he probably researched just for you, his movements slow and rhythmic to help the muscles relax.
HUENINGKAI
You’re walking down a busy street, the sun a bit too bright and the crowd a bit too loud, when that sudden, sinking feeling hits you. You stop in your tracks, a wave of pure panic washing over you as you realize you’ve leaked through your trousers. You lean in and whisper it to Kai, your voice trembling with embarrassment.
He doesn’t miss a beat. There’s no awkwardness, no hesitation; he immediately steps behind you, using his tall frame to shield you from the view of passersby. "Don’t worry, I’ve got you," he murmurs, his voice a calm anchor in the middle of your panic.
He’s wearing an oversized flannel shirt open over a simple T-shirt, and in one fluid motion, he slips it off his shoulders. He steps even closer, wrapping the warm fabric around your waist. "Here, let me," he says softly, his fingers brushing against you as he carefully ties the sleeves in a secure knot at the front. The long hem of the plaid shirt falls perfectly, covering everything and making it look like just a stylish, layered outfit.
But he doesn’t just stop there. He notices how you’re still looking at the ground, your cheeks flushed with shame. He gently hooks his arm through yours, pulling you close to his side. "Hey, look at me. It’s just biology, baby—and I promise you, no one saw a thing."
He keeps you tucked under his arm the whole way back, distracting you by pointing out every cute dog he sees and making silly jokes until he finally hears you giggle.
note: I hope you enjoyed it! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3
