𓏵 SYNOPSIS ───── headcanons on office worker yunho, who loves you too much to keep your relationship a secret—even while you're working overtime to hide it.
genre. fluff ‹𝟹 〔 pairing(s). secret bf!yunho x fem!reader 〕 wc. 787 ! 〔 warnings/tags. secret lovers (secret only inside the office, around co-workers), office workers, down bad!yunho, manager!yunho, employee!reader, kisses, full of love, long term relationship (10 years), no smut, SFW, etc !! 〕
⤷ 〔 ✉️ 〕 heyy! this is my first post on here, also my first ever headcanon! i usually write fics (i've been writing for a few years now), but this is my first time trying a headcanon, so i'm exciteddd!! and more secret bf!yunho headcanons are coming, so look forward to that!
— officeworker!yunho who loves you way too much to actually keep your relationship a secret. Spoiler: he sucks at it. Meanwhile, you're working overtime just to keep up appearances.
— officeworker!yunho who leaves sticky notes all over your desk or monitor. Little reminders to eat, hype notes for big presentations, or just sweet love confessions. He sneaks them in during lunch breaks or empty office hours so he doesn't get caught.
— officeworker!yunho who always manages to sit at the adjacent table in the crowded office canteen just to watch you eat. If he catches you skipping meals, his phone instantly slips out to text you under the table: Eat more.
— officeworker!yunho who—when you skip lunch or hate the cafeteria food—drags you to your favorite restaurant for dinner after work. Even if it's impossible to get a table, he somehow secures the reservation.
— officeworker!yunho who has your favorite bouquet delivered to your desk every few days with anonymous notes, knowing it instantly turns your bad days around. Your colleagues ask way too many questions and tease you relentlessly, but honestly? It's worth it.
— officeworker!yunho who uses his team manager status to his absolute advantage. He calls you into his private office for "urgent matters," only to shower you in endless kisses because he physically can't stay away. (Everyone outside just assumes you messed up.)
— officeworker!yunho who knows your schedule better than you do. He knows the exact minute you step away for a bathroom makeup touch-up or a quick coffee run, casually waiting in an empty corridor or break room corner just to steal a few minutes with you.
— officeworker!yunho who can barely focus during big presentations because his eyes and mind are entirely fixed on you sitting across the room.
— officeworker!yunho who gets jealous. A lot. The second another male employee gets too close or makes you laugh in the break room, he's silently fuming. Later, he sulks all night—mostly because he knows it drives you crazy and earns him extra attention and kisses.
— officeworker!yunho who refuses to let you drive to work since you hate it. He drops you off in the morning, waits for you after work at the nearest bus stop, and drives the rest of the way home together.
— officeworker!yunho who looks like the ultimate serious, unapproachable boss at work, but behind closed doors in your shared home, he's a literal golden retriever in human form.
— officeworker!yunho who bans you from working at home because home is for relaxing together. He might quietly extend your project deadlines at the office, but he draws the line at laptops on laps when he wants your full attention.
— officeworker!yunho who desperately wishes he could shout your relationship from the rooftops because he's a loud lover. But he respects your wish to stay under the radar—especially when you're dating the office's most famous, handsome guy that everyone has a secret crush on.
— officeworker!yunho who peeks at you through the gaps of his office blinds while you're laser-focused on your screen. You can always tell when he's staring.
— officeworker!yunho who sometimes gets just a little too obvious, leaving the rest of the employees asking questions.
— officeworker!yunho who, after years of hiding, accidentally slips up during a team dinner and lets it drop that you two went to high school together. If you hadn't kicked his shin under the table, he would have confessed to university, too.
— "I hate having to hide my love for you."
"When this is over, I'm going to be so loud."
"I don't like how he talks to you like you aren't literally mine."
— officeworker!yunho who, after 10 long years of secretly dating (inside the office), finally proposes. And he is the very first one to proudly announce your engagement to the whole office, holding your hand so tight nobody could ever doubt that you're his.
— officeworker!yunho who is entirely too giddy about not hiding anymore. He now delivers the bouquet to your desk himself, still leaving sticky notes—only this time, they're signed with his name.
— officeworker!yunho who now summons you to his office every single day, right out loud. Who walks proudly to the break room with you instead of lingering in corners. Who finally gets to drive, walk, and leave the building by your side.
— officeworker!yunho who can finally, freely broadcast his love for you.
— "I love not having to hide you anymore."
"I waited ten years, I'm never shutting up now."
"Y/n, love, come to my office for a bit?"
"Sit with me for lunch. I'll feed you."
"Come sit on my lap, nobody's looking anymore."
"Everyone is going to hear that you're all mine."
Tags : fluff, fake relationship, next door neighbor, golden retriever bf x black cat gf, forced proximity, opposites attract
W.c : 3,4 k
Summary : It started with one call... You needed a fake date for one night... Turns out the only option you had was you infuriating next door neighbor Jung Yunho...
Playlist : Lovefool ; Greek God ; Treacherous ; Adore you
The email hit your inbox at 11:47 a.m. on a Tuesday-that specific type of weekday where even the smallest inconvenience feels like a declaration of war.
You stared at it for a full sixty seconds, blinking, like it might vanish if you didn't acknowledge it, rereading the subject line three times before doing the only logical thing: slamming your laptop shut like it had personally offended you.
You weren't dreading the reunion.
No. That would imply you cared. But something about the idea of standing in a rooftop bar surrounded by people you barely remembered-glowing, coupled up, overly successful in ways that made your stomach twist on itself like old cables-left a sour taste in your mouth. Because your personal life? A wasteland. A barren, Netflix-and-takeout desert. No partners. No flings. Not even a promising situationship. The most consistent thing in your life was your favorite hoodie and the Korean convenience store clerk who knew your instant ramen preference by heart.
But the real gut-punch?
He was going to be there.
Your ex.
The one who ghosted you five years ago-no explanation, no closure. Just vanished like a bad plotline in an unfinished book. And now, apparently, he was attending. Probably with some gorgeous new partner, because of course the universe wouldn't let you live.
You absolutely refused to show up as the sad, "forever loner" case study everyone would side-eye between mouthfuls of catered food. There was no way you were showing up alone. Not when people still whispered behind your back about how he left. Not when your old classmates would tilt their heads sympathetically and say, "Still single?" like it was an illness.
But you also didn't expect to be this... rattled by a college reunion. Not after surviving exams, three apartments, two job layoffs, and a breakup that taught you how cold silence could really be.
Which is how you found yourself pacing your kitchen at almost midnight, phone clutched in hand like it held the antidote to your dignity. Because apparently, it did.
You had no plans, no one to turn to but you had one solution. Not a boyfriend. Not even a date. Just the nuclear option : Jung Yunho.
Your infuriating next door neighbor. Ridiculously attractive. Annoyingly charming. Radiating with the energy of a golden retriever.
And your only option.
Ten minutes of agonizing indecision later, you gave in. Scrolled down your contacts. Hit call.
The line rang once. Twice.
"Why are you calling so late?" Yunho's voice crackled through the speaker-low, sleepy, and unfairly sexy. Of course. He sounded like sin wrapped in warmth.
You shut your eyes and took a breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just... need a favor." A pause.
"I have this class reunion thing," you went on, words tumbling out before you lost your nerve. "And I don't want to show up alone. Could you come with me? As my boyfriend."
A beat. Then:
"You want me to what?"
You closed your eyes.
"Just-pretend to be my boyfriend. For one night. One weekend. Whatever it takes. Please."
Silence.
You pictured him in his apartment right across the hall, probably shirtless, one hand rubbing his neck, hair pushed back in that way he does when he's half-annoyed but intrigued.
"You realize you called me at 12:03 a.m. to ask me to be your fake boyfriend?"
"Yes. And I'm incredibly aware of how pathetic this sounds, thank you."
Another pause. Longer this time. You could practically hear him smirking. Then:
"Alright. I'm in. But I have conditions."
"Yunho-"
He cut you off smoothly.
"Come with me to my cousin's wedding in three weeks," he interrupted.
"I need someone to keep my nosy, conservative family off my back. And someone hot and sarcastic might just do the trick."
WAIT DID HE JUST CALL ME HOT ? No, don't think about that. Focus.
You snorted.
"So I'm your distraction?"
"Exactly. We're both getting something out of it."
"Fine," you said, a smile creeping into your voice.
"If it's just that, we have a deal."
A beat passed.
"And if we're doing this, I also have rules," you added firmly. "Three, to be specific."
"Of course you do."
You ignored the sass.
"Rule one: no kissing unless we're in public. And don't overdo it."
"Damn. Killing the fun at the very beginning, don't you?"
"Rule two," you said louder, "No staying the night. No crashing at each other's places. We keep our space."
"You're afraid you'll fall for me in your sleep?"
You could hear the grin in his voice.
"And rule three," you said deadpan, ignoring his teasing, "absolutely no real feelings."
"So we're playing house but emotionally constipated. Got it."
You groaned, flopping back on your couch.
"You're the worst."
"And yet," he said, voice dropping again, smooth and teasing, "you picked me."
You could practically hear him raising an eyebrow through the receiver. You didn't even need to be in the room to picture that infuriating grin. The truth was, you were more afraid of falling for him.
✧───⋆｡°❅°｡⋆☕︎˚ʚ❆ɞ˚☕︎⋆｡°❅°｡⋆───✧
The week passed in a blur of overthinking, text threads titled "Fake BF Rules (pls don't be weird)", and you making the tragic mistake of watching romantic K-dramas at 2 a.m. while stress-eating leftover garlic bread.
The night of the reunion arrived too fast- and not fast enough.
You smoothed down the fabric of your black cocktail dress in the mirror, already regretting the extra layer of lip gloss. You looked hot. Objectively. But your stomach was flipping upside down. Every time you glanced at the clock, your heartbeat doubled.
And then, a knock.
You opened the door to Yunho standing there like he belonged on a magazine cover that said something like: "How to ruin lives just by existing."
Hands in the pockets of his black slacks, a loose white shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled to his forearms, and the first two buttons open over his chest. His blonde hair peeked from beneath a backwards black cap, looking disgustingly, unfairly hot effortlessly put together in a should-be-illegal way. His expression was lazy, half a smirk.
"Hey."
You blinked. -and promptly forgot how to speak.
"You're-uh. Wow."
He grinned, eyes flicking down your figure with a quick once-over that made your skin buzz.
"You're wearing that?" he said, voice low, a little hoarse. "Guess I'm the lucky one tonight."
You coughed to hide the very real and immediate urge to drag him back into your apartment.
"I thought fake boyfriends were supposed to be humble."
"I'm a multi-talented actor," he said, stepping inside and reaching out to fix your necklace like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Humility is extra."
His fingers brushed your collarbone. You froze.
Rule #3: No real feelings. You silently reminded yourself.
His eyes skimmed you slowly, unapologetically, pausing at your neckline before meeting your gaze again.
"You're gonna make it hard to pretend this is fake."
You rolled your eyes and stepped out, locking the door behind you.
"Let's get this over with."
The reunion venue was high-end-a rooftop cocktail bar wrapped in string lights, city skyline twinkling beyond the glass. Everyone looked polished and annoyingly successful. Champagne flutes, soft jazz, and conversations that started with "So what are you up to now?" and ended with humblebrags.
Yunho laced your fingers with his the moment you stepped in, his grip warm and confident. You tensed slightly.
"We're barely through the door."
He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.
"Public, isn't it?" he murmured. "Just following rule one."
He smirked and your stomach flipped at his words. You wanted to throttle him.
You should have expected Yunho to take the role so seriously, by the time you reached your ex-classmates, his hand moved behind your back, his cologne doing criminal things to your senses, and you were wondering why your heartbeat would not calm down.
The night started in a dizzying blur of forced smiles and fake laughs. Yunho played the boyfriend role too well-his hand always on the small of your back, his smile charming, his jokes just sharp enough to make people second-guess if he was serious.
He smiled at everyone. He remembered names. He told a story about how you met that was so ridiculous it made people laugh-something about tripping over him in the hallway and calling him a "6-foot inconvenience."
You were getting used to it-his heat beside you, the soft pressure of his hand at your waist-until it happened.
He walked in.
Your ex.
Wearing the same smug expression he always had when he thought he was the smartest man in the room. And he wasn't alone-some gorgeous, sharp-dressed person was clinging to his arm like arm candy. You stiffened, heart racing. But Yunho noticed before you could even say a word.
"So this is the infamous ex?" Yunho leans down to whisper as your ghost-from-the-past walks toward you with a drink in hand.
"He's not infamous. He's just... trash."
"Want me to punch him or just look hot?"
"You already look hot."
Yunho smirks.
Your ex approaches with a smile that tries too hard.
"Didn't think you'd come."
"Didn't think you'd care," you fire back sweetly.
Yunho didn't hesitate.
He pulled you closer—so close your spine registered the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest—and pressed a lingering, tender kiss to your temple. The warmth of his breath contrasted sharply with the glacial, predatory edge that entered his demeanor the moment he turned his gaze toward your ex. His voice was all honey-slick composure, dripping with an effortless charm that completely masked the underlying warning.
Extending one hand in a casual, expectant gesture of greeting, he kept his other arm securely banded around your waist, holding you flush against him as if nothing could ever pry you apart.
"Hey, man. I'm Yunho. I don't think we've met." he said, offering his hand for a shake, his tone dripping with polished hospitality.
Your ex stared down at Yunho's extended hand for a fraction of a second, a flicker of irritation crossing his face before he reluctantly reached out to shake it. Yunho’s grip was firm, almost crushing, anchoring the handshake a beat longer than polite society dictated before dropping it effortlessly.
Then, your ex raised an eyebrow, looking past Yunho to you.
"You brought a date?"
"Boyfriend," Yunho corrected smoothly before you could say anything, his smile never reaching his eyes, though the delivery was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Of two years."
You elbowed him sharply in the ribs, a silent reprimand for the sheer absurdity of the timeline he had just invented on the spot. He didn't even flinch; instead, he simply tightened his grip, anchoring you even closer to his side.
You stared up at his profile, completely dumbfounded, your eyes wide as you looked at him as though he had suddenly sprouted wings. Or horns. Or perhaps both.
"Though she still refuses to stop stealing my hoodies."
You nearly choked on your champagne. Your ex faltered. Yet you didn't miss it. His gaze flicked between you and Yunho, and something about his sudden smirk made your stomach churn.
"Didn't think you were the type to settle down."
Yunho's hand moved lower-dangerously close to your hip. You glanced at him in warning, but he just smiled and kissed your cheek.
"She's not the one who ran."
It was soft. But it landed like a slap. Your ex's face twitched.
You grabbed Yunho's hand, tugging him toward the hallway near the restrooms.
"We're getting more champagne," you lied.
Once out of sight, you spun around.
"What was that?"
Yunho shrugged, innocent.
"What? Was I too convincing?"
You opened your mouth-but then he stepped forward. Close. Way too close.
"You're shaking."
"I'm not-"
His hand came up, cupping your jaw. Gentle, grounding.
"You don't have to pretend for me." His voice was lower now, intimate, quiet. "But if I'm gonna pretend for you, I'm going all in."
Your breath caught.
You hated how close he was. You hated how your chest fluttered. You hated that he smelled like expensive cologne and warmth and something unfairly addictive.
"Yunho..."
He leaned in, lips brushing yours.
You panicked. "Rule number one."
"No kissing unless we're in public?" he murmured, backing you gently into the wall. His arm braced beside your head.
He tilted his cap slightly and grinned. "And right now we're in public."
Damn it.
You glared and whispered. "You're evil."
Your breath hitching as his thumb slid up to rest right against the pulse fluttering in your jaw. Fast. Erractic. Traitorous.
"Yeah," he whispered, his grin ghosting across your lips. "But I look good doing it."
For two agonizing seconds, the space between your mouths shrank to absolute zero. You braced yourself, your hand tightening on the lapel of his jacket— to push him away or pull him closer, you weren't even sure.
But Yunho didn't close the gap.
Instead, he tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your mouth before lingering on the nervous flutter of your throat. A low, quiet chuckle vibrated through his chest.
"I'm a man of my word. I don't cheat."
Your heart was hammering so loudly against your ribs you were convinced he could feel it through his shirt. "You're enjoying this way too much."
He pulled back just an inch, his eyes gleaming with infuriating triumph.
You absolute bastard.
You almost mouthed those words. But your brain was still trying to process whatever just happened. It was as if you could still felt the electricity through your body even if Yunho was now standing less closer. But still too close.
You swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of the composure you’d spent the last week practicing in front of your mirror.
"You're impossible," you muttered, smoothing the front of your dress with trembling fingers.
Yunho’s expression softened, the sharp, defensive edge he’d worn for your ex completely dissolving. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone—not with the theatrical flair of an actor playing to a crowd, but with a quiet, grounding tenderness that made your breath catch all over again.
"Hey," he said softly, his voice losing its teasing cadence. "Seriously, you okay?"
The genuine concern in his eyes was almost worse than the flirting. It was disarming.
"I'm fine," you lied, looking away toward the hallway entrance.
"I just... didn't expect him to bring someone. And I definitely didn't expect my fake boyfriend to invent a two-year relationship and threaten a man with a handshake."
Yunho let out a low chuckle, stepping back just enough to give you some breathing room, though he kept his hands casually tucked into his slacks.
"Someone had to remind him what he lost," Yunho said simply, though there was no malice in it now—just a quiet certainty that made your stomach flip in an entirely different way.
"I know seeing him must suck. I can take you home if you want. We can leave him and his little arm candy to choke on their champagne."
You looked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift.
Underneath the swagger, the designer clothes, and the fake boyfriend theatrims, Yunho was actually paying attention. He had seen right through your sharp comebacks back there.
Your shoulders dropped just a fraction, the tension finally beginning to drain out of your spine.
"No," you said softly, a genuine, small smile finally touching your lips. "No way am I letting him think he chased me away. We're staying."
Yunho’s expression softened into a look that made your stomach flip all over again—this time, without any help from the ex.
"That's my girl," he murmured, offering his arm to you with a mock-formal bow that made your eyes rolled.
The walk back onto the rooftop terrace felt entirely different from the first time you stepped through the glass doors. The low thrum of ambient jazz and the chatter of old acquaintances no longer felt like a hostile tribunal waiting to pass judgment. With Yunho’s solid, warm frame walking beside you—his hand resting with casual, proprietary weight on the small of your back—the room seemed to shrink into something manageable. Your ex and his impeccably dressed companion were nowhere in sight, swallowed up by the sprawling crowd near the illuminated bar, but the phantom sting of their presence had completely evaporated.
The rest of the evening blurred into a surreal montage of stolen glances, lingering touches, and a level of domestic choreography that felt entirely too natural for a couple who had invented their relationship over a late-night phone call.
You traded polite pleasantries with people you had spent years trying to forget, laughed at jokes that were only mildly painful, and watched with secret amusement as Yunho effortlessly charmed a cluster of former sorority sisters who were hanging on his every word. He played the devoted partner with terrifying perfection, leaning in close to whisper ridiculous commentary into your ear that forced you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing out loud. For the first time all evening, the knot of anxiety in your chest dissolved into a warm, buzzing hum of pure adrenaline.
By the time the rooftop bar’s string lights began to dim and the crowd thinned out, your ex was nowhere to be seen—having apparently decided that getting systematically out-maneuvered by a six-foot blonde neighbor in a black cap wasn't how he wanted to spend his Tuesday night.
The ride back to your apartment building was quiet, wrapped in the comfortable hum of the city at 2:00 a.m.
When the elevator doors dinged on your floor, you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, your heels clicking against the carpet. You reached your door, fumbling through your small clutch for your keys, hyper-aware of Yunho standing just a few inches away, leaning casually against the doorframe of his own apartment directly across from yours.
"Well," you said, forcing a bright, casual tone as you finally fished the keys out. "The fake boyfriend act was a 10 out of 10. You deserve an Oscar. Or at least some free drink."
Yunho didn't move. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes catching the amber glow of the hallway sconce.
"I'm a man of expensive tastes. A free drink won't cut it anymore."
You unlocked your door and pushed it open, turning back to face him with a smirk. "Right. Well, thank you. For saving me back there. I owe you one."
"You certainly do," Yunho agreed, his voice dropping to that low, smooth register that made your skin tingle.
He pushed off the doorframe and took a slow step toward you, closing the distance until he was standing right on your threshold.
The air between you suddenly felt entirely too thin.
"Don't forget," he murmured, his gaze dipping briefly to your mouth before rising to lock with yours, "My cousin's wedding. You're returning the favor."
You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the door. "I remember. Three weeks."
"Good," Yunho whispered, his hand coming up to rest on the doorframe right beside your head, caging you in just enough to make your breath hitch. "Because my family is ruthless. You're going to have to pretend you're madly in love with me."
Before you could think of a sufficiently sarcastic response to mask the frantic pounding of your heart, Yunho smiled—a slow, knowing, dangerous thing—and stepped back.
"Sleep well, neighbor," he said softly, turning away and walking across the hall to unlock his own door.
You stood frozen in your doorway for a full ten seconds, watching him disappear inside his apartment before the door clicked shut. You closed your own door, leaned your back against it, and slid slowly down to the floor.
Three weeks until his family's wedding.
You touched your fingertips to your temple where his breath had brushed hours ago, realizing with a sudden, terrifying jolt that the hardest part of the fake dating arrangement wasn't going to be surviving his family.
It was going to be surviving yourself.
Thanks for reading me ! Hope you like it so far ? Let me know your thoughts? ? Wanna see Yunho break the rules yet or no ?? 🫣🤭
Honestly I was planning to do a short OS at first but maybe I should do a full fanfic ?
What do you think ? 🤔
Keep it as short 2/3 part OS 🥰
Make it a full slow burn FF 😏🤪
Voting ended onAug 3
🔔 Want to join the tag list? Please review my Tag list requirements first.
🎧 Playlist : Lovefool - The Cardigans | Greek God - Conan Grey | Treacherous - Taylor Swift | Adore you - Harry Styles
Our bakery owner suddenly finds herself in a crisis in wich Yunho plays an unexpected part.
________________________________________
The next morning you woke up before your alarm, still smiling about yesterday. The hiking invitation from Yunho had left you in a good mood and you were humming to yourself.
You got ready quickly- braided your hair, put on your favorite apron and headed down to open the bakery, a bounce in your step.
As you turned the corner onto the street, you stopped in your tracks. The bakery…oh my God!! The front windows were smashed. Glass was scattered all over the sidewalk and inside the shop. The cheerful white curtains were shredded. Chairs were knocked over and your beautiful wooden display cases had been overturned and smashed, the delicate pastries you had baked with care now crushed into sad, sticky messes on the floor, mixed with scattered flour, sugar, and broken ceramic plates. One of the window sills was cracked and splintered, like someone had hit it hard.
You stood there for a second, keys still in your hand, staring at the mess in utter shock as tears started swelling in your eyes.
Everything you had worked so hard for…it was destroyed. Who would do something like this…? You shakingly took out your phone and started to make the call.
“Emergency services, how can I help you?”
"The... my bakery," you choked out, voice cracking with a sob you couldn't hold back. "It's been broken into... everything's ruined. The windows are smashed, glass everywhere, all my things... they're destroyed. I just got here and…”
The operator’s voice remained calm but urgent on the other end. “Ma’am, I need you to listen carefully. Is there anyone still inside the building?”
You blinked hard, tears blurring your vision as you stared at the dark, shattered interior. Your mind was racing, every shadow suddenly looked threatening.
“I… I don’t know…” you whispered, voice small and trembling with confusion. “I don’t think so. I haven’t gone in yet. I was too scared to…”
“Alright, stay calm,” the operator said gently. “Do not go inside. Wait outside in a safe spot away from the building. Help is on the way- officers are being dispatched to your location right now. Stay on the line with me until they arrive, okay?”
You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, backing up a few shaky steps toward the edge of the sidewalk. “O-okay… I’m waiting outside. Please hurry…” Your free hand clutched your apron tightly, knuckles white, as the reality of the destruction continued to sink in.
The operator asked for the address and kept you on the line. You answered their questions while staring at the damage. A cold breeze blew through the broken windows, stirring up some of the flour. In the distance you could hear sirens starting to get closer.
You wrapped your arms around yourself and waited.
___________________________________
Yunho had come in early that morning, finishing up some paperwork from the day before when the call came in at the station.
“Dispatch to Unit 7. Vandalism reported at 142 Oak Street. Multiple windows smashed, interior trashed. Owner on scene. No suspects reported.”
Yunho froze. His pen stopped mid-sentence.
142 Oak Street. That was Y/N’s bakery.
His heart slammed against his ribs. He was already standing up and grabbing his jacket before the dispatcher even finished.
“Unit 7 responding,” he said into the radio, his voice tight. “We are en route. ETA three minutes.” He didn’t wait for a reply. He rushed out of the station, practically running to his patrol car. His partner, Junghoon, quickly followed after grabbing his own gear.
Yunho’s mind was spinning. Y/N. Was she okay? Was she hurt? Had she walked in on something? All the scenarios going around in his head made his stomach turn.
He threw the car into drive and flipped on the lights and sirens. The streets blurred as he sped through the quiet morning traffic, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
Junghoon glanced over from the passenger seat. “You good? Why are you driving like this for a vandalism call?”
Yunho didn’t answer, eyes locked on the road.
He took the last turn way too fast, tires squealing slightly as he pulled up in front of the bakery. Glass was scattered across the sidewalk. The broken windows looked even worse up close.
Yunho slammed the car door, his heart pounding as he rounded the corner of the patrol car, his eyes frantically scanning the scene.
The moment he spotted you- standing on the sidewalk with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, shoulders trembling, face pale and streaked with tears- something in his chest twisted painfully.
“Y/N!” he called out, voice rough with urgency. He broke into a jog, closing the distance in seconds. Junghoon hung back a little, already starting to cordon off the area with caution tape, but Yunho only had eyes for you.
___________________________________
You were still standing outside the bakery, arms wrapped around yourself, when you heard the sirens getting closer. A police car pulled up fast, lights flashing.
You barely registered the car stopping, the doors flying open…your mind felt numb, distant. Then you heard your name, spoken with raw urgency.
“Y/N!”
Your head lifted slowly, blinking through the blur of tears. A tall, dark-haired man jumped out of the driver's side and started running toward you, long strides closing the distance. His broad shoulders, the familiar way he moved, something clicked even before your eyes fully focused.
It was Yunho.
The same Yunho who had smiled at you over the counter yesterday, who had asked you out for a hike with that warm, hopeful look in his eyes. But now he was in a police uniform, badge catching the morning light, his face etched with deep concern instead of his usual gentle charm.
“Yunho…?” His name slipped out in a confused whisper, your tear-streaked face crumpling as he reached you. “What are you doing here…? What are you wearing…wait. You are a… cop??” Your mind was spinning with confusion.
Yunho was breathing hard, hands hovering like he wanted to pull you into his arms but was holding himself back. His dark eyes searched yours, full of worry and something protective that made your chest ache even more.
Then his eyes softened at your confusion, and he let out a breathy chuckle as he glanced down at the badge on his chest.
“Hi.
So… yeah… I am.
I guess I didn't cover that part in my charming newcomer routine,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.“I was planning to drop this particular piece of information a little bit more casual first date style’ and less ‘full uniform with sirens blaring’”
His expression turned serious again as one of his hands finally settled gently on your shoulder, warm and steady against the trembling. “Are you hurt? Tell me you didn’t go inside.”
You shook your head slowly, still dazed. “No… I didn’t go in. I swear. I just stood here the whole time.”
Yunho’s brows drew together. His gaze drifted down as he scanned over you more carefully. Then he saw your left hand- the one still clutching the edge of your apron. A thin trail of blood was slowly dripping from your palm onto the sidewalk.
“You’re bleeding,” he said, voice immediately shifting into that calm, protective tone. He reached for your hand with both of his.
You followed his gaze, blinking in confusion as you looked down at your own hand.
“What…? Oh…” A small, bewildered frown crossed your face. “I didn’t even notice. I must have cut it on the glass…”
Yunho’s touch was gentle as he took your injured hand, turning it carefully under the morning light. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was still seeping blood. In the shock, the pain had barely registered.
“Wait right here,” he murmured softly. He quickly retrieved a small first-aid kit from the patrol car and returned, kneeling on one knee in front of you so he was at eye level.
Junghoon continued securing the scene nearby, giving you both a bit of space.
Yunho cleaned the cut with slow, tender movements. Wiping away the blood, applying antiseptic, blowing lightly on it when you winced. He then wrapped it neatly with gauze and tape. His thumb brushed over the finished bandage, lingering warmly.
“There,” he whispered, still holding your hand between his. “All better now. You’ve been through enough already today. Let's get you home, okay?”
You gave a small, numb nod, too drained to argue. Yunho helped you to your feet with steady hands and wrapped his jacket around your shoulders, keeping one arm lightly around them as he guided you toward the patrol car.
He murmured something quick to Junghoon about taking you home and coming right back to help process the scene. His partner nodded understandingly.
The drive to your place was short and quiet. You stared out the window, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest.
Yunho kept glancing over at you, worry spread across his face, but he respected your silence and didn’t push. The warmth of his jacket still draped over your shoulders and the fresh bandage on your hand were the only things keeping you grounded.
When the car pulled up in front of your house, you sat there for a moment- still processing, when it hit you all at once.
“Oh no…” you breathed, turning to him with wide, regretful eyes. “Our date. The hike… I’m so sorry, Yunho. I have to cancel. I need to contact my insurance and figure out how to get the bakery fixed and… and everything’s such a mess right now.
Yunho's expression softened and he reached over, squeezing your hand.
“Hey. Don't worry about that right now. We can reschedule whenever you are ready. The mountains aren’t going anywhere, and neither am I. Unless… my extra curricular activities as a crime fighter are a dealbreaker?”
He gave you a playful wink, glancing down at his badge and up at you again.
“I mean…” he continued, “I can always change back into the ‘charming regular’ outfit if it helps.”
A tiny laugh escaped you despite everything, the first real one all morning. You wiped your eyes with your good hand and smiled faintly, cracking back at him.
“Oh nooo, Officer Yunho,” you replied with a slow, teasing tone. “The uniform’s kind of working for me, actually. Very… heroic. Though I might need you to loose the sirens next time… and maybe bring fewer flashing lights.”
Yunho’s smile widened, warm and relieved to see even a spark of your usual spirit return. “Noted. Next time it’s just me, civilian clothes, and zero emergency vehicles. Promise.”
He lifted his hand, crossing his heart with two fingers while giving you a boyish grin that made your chest feel a little lighter despite the heavy day.
You couldn’t help the tiny smile that tugged at your lips. The simple gesture felt so at odds with the uniformed officer sitting beside you, yet perfectly him. Him making you smile even for a little bit…it was everything. It lifted the heavyness of today's events off your shoulders…until the full weight of it hit you again a second later, causing your smile to drop again.
He looked at you. “Are you going to be ok on your own?” You managed a small, grateful nod. “Yes. Thank you.”
He lingered for a moment longer, making sure you were steady before walking you to your door. Once you were safely inside, he gave you one last reassuring look. “I’ll check in on you later. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”
The door clicked shut behind you, and the silence of your apartment wrapped around you like a heavy blanket.
You leaned back against the wood, sliding slowly down until you were sitting on the floor with your knees drawn tightly to your chest.
Yunho’s jacket was still draped over your shoulders, carrying his faint, comforting scent, but even that couldn’t stop the wave that crashed over you.
Tears came quietly at first, then harder. You buried your face in your arms and let yourself cry… really cry, for the bakery you had poured your heart, savings, and countless early mornings into.
The cheerful space you had built from nothing was now trashed and violated. The thought of walking back in there later, of seeing the crushed pastries and shattered glass again, made your stomach twist.
Minutes blurred into what felt like hours. Eventually you forced yourself up, legs shaky, and made a cup of tea you barely sipped. You sat at your small kitchen table, staring at your laptop screen as you opened insurance documents and the police report number Yunho had given you.
The bandage on your hand pulled slightly every time you typed, a small reminder of him kneeling down before you and the way he had blown on the cut to ease the sting. Your mind kept drifting back to him.
Yunho. ‘Officer’ Yunho apparently.
The tall, sweet customer who had gushed over your pastries and asked you out on a date turned out to be a cop.
Part of you felt silly for not asking him about his job sooner. Another part felt strangely safe knowing he had been the one to show up.
The way he had grounded you- in the middle of your worst morning…and the way he had made you smile made your chest feel warm amid all the cold grief.
You didn’t know what this meant for… whatever was starting between you. Everything felt too heavy and uncertain right now. You hugged his jacket a little tighter around yourself and whispered into the quiet room, “What am I supposed to do now?”
Summary: Your peaceful life takes a sweet turn when tall, charming newcomer Yunho becomes a regular.
________________________________________
CHAPTER 1
Flour and sparks
The quaint little bakery on the corner of a cozy downtown street might not have seemed like much to most people passing by, but to you it was everything….
It was yours.
Starting it one day with nothing but a dream and a burst of boldness, being fed up with your corporate job- you had poured everything into ‘Chef's Kiss’.
Every early morning, every late night experimenting with recipes, every careful choice of warm lighting and mismatched wooden chairs that made the space feel more like a hug than a business.
The front windows were framed with soft white curtains and the air inside always had that comforting scent of fresh bread, vanilla and whatever seasonal pastries you’d decided to focus on that week.
A small chalkboard menu hung behind the counter, your handwriting neat and cheerful- listing everything from fluffy scones to your famous blueberry muffins.
You loved this place and the simple rhythm of your life. Kneading dough before sunrise, the gentle chime of the bell above the door, the way regulars slowly became like family.
It wasn’t a flashy place, no big signs or overpriced gimmicks…just honest food,
made with love and a quiet corner where people could breathe for a moment.
You were happy and content.
Most days you worked the counter yourself, apron tied around your waist, sleeves rolled up, a smudge of flour often dusting your cheek without even realizing it.
Your hair was usually pulled back in a practical ponytail or braid, though a few rebellious strands always escaped.
You moved with the easy confidence of someone who had found her calling…warm smiles for the tired office workers, gentle teasing for the university students cramming in the corner booth, and genuine interest in the people that you encountered.
That particular morning had started like any other. You’d baked a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, their sticky-sweet aroma filling the shop, and were wiping down the counter when the bell chimed.
You looked up with your usual welcoming smile, expecting Mrs. Park from the flower shop next door or one of the local delivery guys.
Instead, a tall young man stepped inside, ducking out of habit as he passed through
the doorway.
He had dark, slightly tousled hair that fell softly over his forehead, framing a strikingly handsome face. His features were gentle and warm with expressive dark eyes that crinkled gently at the corners when he smiled, revealing round, apple-like cheeks. His heart shaped lips were curved in a friendly expression.
His soft grey hoodie, layered beneath a casual dark navy wool-blend coat, did little to hide his broad shoulders.
He carried himself with quiet confidence as he breathed in the sweet scent of the bakery, his presence instantly filling the space with a warm, bright energy.
For a second, your breath caught. He was incredibly good-looking.
“Morning,” he said, his voice smooth and low with a friendly tone. His gaze swept over the display case before landing back on you, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“First time here. I just moved to the area a few days ago and I’ve been following my nose around the neighborhood like a stray puppy, trying to find the good stuff. This place smells amazing! I couldn't pass it up.”
You smiled, feeling a small flutter of warmth
in your chest. Spreading your arms wide, you exclaimed dramatically, “Well, welcome to the neighborhood!
“And you're in luck,” you added with a wink. "Everything's fresh from this morning.
The cinnamon rolls are especially good today if you’re in the mood for something sweet.”
He stepped closer to the counter, eyes lighting up like a kid at a candy store. Up close, he was even taller than he first appeared, easily over six feet, and the way his warm brown eyes focused on you made the small space feel a little more intimate.
“I’ll take one of those cinnamon rolls and a large caramel macchiato please,” returning your smile with one that made his eyes crinkle again. “Iced. And if it’s as good as it smells, I might have to make this my new morning routine.”
You plated the roll with an extra generous swirl of icing and poured his coffee. As you slid both across the counter, your fingers accidentally brushed his. A tiny spark traveled up your arm.
He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his smile widened just a fraction.
“Thanks,” he said softly. “I’m Yunho, by the way.”
“Y/N,” you replied, returning the smile. “Nice to meet you, Yunho. I hope you like it.”
He took a big bite right there at the counter, eyes widening dramatically before closing in pure bliss.
“Mmmm!… Wow…these are dangerous.
Are you trying to ruin all other bakeries for me on purpose? Because it’s working.”
He tilted his head with a playful smirk.
You laughed lightly at his cute, boyish demeanor.
“Flattery before your first coffee huh?
My my… someone is hitting the ground running today,” you said with a wink.
He grinned, lingering for just a second longer, sipping his coffee while his gaze stayed on you with quiet curiosity. Then, with one last smile and an almost reluctant nod, he headed out, the bell chiming cheerfully behind him.
You caught yourself watching through the window as he walked down the street, taking another bite of the cinnamon roll. Even from behind, his tall frame and easy stride were noticeable.
You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you went back to wiping the counter.
After the last customer left and you had hung the “Closed” sign on the door, you went through your familiar evening ritual.
You wiped down every surface until you could see your reflection in the countertop, swept up the scattered crumbs and fallen sugar crystals, and carefully packed away the leftover pastries.
The cinnamon roll scent still lingered in the air, making you smile as you remembered the tall stranger Yunho, and the way his eyes had lit up with that first bite. A response like that was exactly why you loved being a chef so much.
By the time you locked up and stepped out into the cool evening air, the sky had already deepened into twilight.
The short walk to your apartment just around the corner from the bakery was quiet, your footsteps echoing softly on the sidewalk.
You climbed the narrow stairs at the back of the building, keys jingling in your hand.
Once inside, you kicked off your shoes with a sigh of relief and let your hair down, running your fingers through it to loosen the braid.
The apartment was small but cozy, soft lighting, plants on the windowsill, and the faint smell of vanilla from the diffuser you always kept running.
You changed out of your flour-dusted clothes into an oversized sweater and soft lounge pants and went into the kitchen.
Dinner was simple tonight: leftover vegetable stir-fry from yesterday, quickly reheated.
You ate at the small table by the window, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, as your mind drifted off again.
Yunho.
You kept replaying the moment his fingers brushed yours…the tingle of electricity you felt. The way his warm brown eyes crinkled when he smiled and that low, smooth voice when he teased you.
He had such a gentle, bright presence… tall and confident, yet somehow boyish and charming at the same time.
You smiled to yourself, cheeks warming slightly. Then you snapped out of it.
Get it together, Y/N. He’s just a new neighbor who liked your cinnamon rolls.
You cleaned up the dishes and moved to the bathroom.
You ran yourself a warm bath with lavender Epsom salts, sinking in with a contented sigh. The hot water eased the ache in your shoulders from hours of kneading dough.
You soaked for about an hour, letting your mind go quiet before finally reluctantly getting out. After the bath, you slipped into bed with a book.
When you eventually set the book aside and turned off the lamp, you found yourself thinking of Yunho again…
Maybe he’ll come back tomorrow…
The days that followed settled into a gentle rhythm. Yunho became a constant in the bakery’s morning rush. He’d arrive shortly after opening, ducking through the doorway with that easy, tall grace, his warm brown eyes always finding yours immediately.
He’d order his usual cinnamon roll and macchiato, but always accepted whatever small surprise you added, a different glaze, a warm muffin, a slice of whatever you’d been testing.
There were small, lingering brushes of your fingers against his, each touch making your heart skip a beat.
Conversations stayed light: he’d ask about your favorite seasonal flavors, you’d tease him about his rapidly developing cinnamon roll dependency.
He listened to you like every detail mattered. A shared smile across the counter, a soft laugh at some small neighborhood story, and then he’d leave with a quiet “See you tomorrow,” his tall frame pausing just a moment longer at the door each time.
It was simple and sweet and it made your day a bit brighter. Slowly you found yourself looking forward to these little moments with him. In the past, this might have made you on edge and uneasy but somehow with him…you felt safe.
So …you let yourself feel it.
‘Just a little bit', you were telling yourself.
____________________________________
Yunho was slowly settling into his new home and neighbourhood. The quiet streets, the little shops tucked between older buildings, the way the morning light filtered through the trees … it was all starting to feel less like a temporary landing and more like somewhere he could truly belong.
As the boxes in his apartment slowly emptied and the unfamiliarity faded, the place started to feel like a home.
There was something else that had been helping with that as well…
The pretty owner of that little bakery on the corner of the street, Y/N.
Every morning he found himself drawn back to your bakery like a quiet ritual. It wasn’t just the warm, comforting smells or the soft lighting that made the space feel like a gentle embrace. It was you. He felt drawn to you somehow.
He loved the way your face would light up when he stepped through the door, your pretty eyes sparkling with that genuine, welcoming smile when he stepped through the door.
They seemed blue at first but then one day…as the light hit them just right you were surprised to find out they were in fact green…
bright, living green, laced with delicate flecks of jade and a speck of gold that made them shift and shimmer like sunlit water.
They were impossible to pin down, always changing with the light, just like you.
Yunho had been restless about the move but these natural flowing conversations made him more at ease in this new chapter.
You never let him get away with anything. You matched his teasing energy perfectly- quick, playful, and just as sharp- turning every exchange into a sparkling back-and-forth that made his heart flutter.
Then at the same time you had this calm, steady warmth about you that felt like home.
And then there was the easy confidence in your movements as you worked behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, flour in your face and all over your clothes.
He thought about the way your fingers brushed his when you would hand him his order. Brief, but enough to send a quiet
spark through him.
You made him feel seen in a way that was both comforting and quietly thrilling.
“Get it together, Yunho,” he scolded himself as he tucked his hands into his pockets.
He couldn't lie though…you were on his mind quite a lot. Maybe too much…?
Or maybe not.
Because for the first time since arriving here, this neighborhood truly felt like it could be home. And a big part of that reason was you.
The gentle rhythm between you continued in the days that followed, each visit adding to the growing connection.
____________________________________
It was a slow Tuesday morning.
Only a couple of regulars sat tucked in the corner booths with their laptops. You were rearranging a tray of fresh lemon-poppyseed muffins when the bell chimed.Yunho stepped inside, ducking slightly as always, his tall frame filling the doorway in that effortlessly charming way.
His dark hair looked a little windswept today, and his t-shirt clung softly to his broad shoulders. His warm brown eyes found you immediately, and that familiar crinkle appeared at the corners as he smiled.
“Morning, Y/N!” he said, voice low and smooth like always. He approached the counter, but instead of placing his usual order right away, he paused, fingers tapping lightly against the wood.
There was a clear hint of nervousness in the way he shifted his weight, it was quite adorable on someone so tall and composed.
You wiped your hands on your apron and offered him your usual bright smile. “The usual today? Or are we feeling adventurous?”
He chuckled softly, but it came out a little breathier than normal. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down for a second before looking up at you again. His gaze was gentle, those warm brown eyes catching the morning light.
“I've been thinking…you know that hiking trail I mentioned last week? The one with the overlook and the wildflowers starting to bloom?”
You nodded, your heart picking up its pace.
"I was wondering..." He leaned in just a little, voice dropping with quiet sincerity. "If you'd like to go with me sometime? Maybe this weekend?”
He ran a hand through his hair nervously.
“Or whenever you have a free afternoon. No pressure at all, I just thought it might be nice to get out of the bakery for a bit, breathe some fresh air… and I’d really like to spend some time with you outside of these four walls.”
The words were spilling out of him like he'd been holding them in for days and couldn't stop the flow now.
The invitation settled between you like a soft, hopeful spark.
For a moment, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla in the air felt even sweeter. Your cheeks warmed, and you could feel that familiar flutter in your chest as you were processing what he was asking you.
He watched you carefully, his apple cheeks noticeably pinker, one hand still lingering awkwardly at the back of his neck as if he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
Boyish hope shone through his usual calm confidence, making him look even more endearing.
You smiled, the warmth spreading through you. “I’d like that,” you replied softly, matching his gentle tone. “A lot, actually. This weekend sounds perfect. How about after the saturday rush dies down?”
Yunho’s whole face lit up, eyes crinkling deeply as relief and joy washed over his expression. His smile grew wide and genuine.
“Yeah? Great. I’ll check the weather and let you know the best time. I promise I won’t let you get lost… or at least I’ll get us lost together.”
You laughed, the sound light and easy in the quiet bakery. You exchanged numbers and he stayed a few minutes longer than usual, ordering his cinnamon roll and macchiato with an extra bounce in his step, stealing glances at you while you prepared his order.
When your fingers brushed again handing him the plate, the spark felt stronger this time—full of new possibilities.
As he headed toward the door, he paused and looked back over his shoulder, his tall frame silhouetted against the morning light.
“Can’t wait, Y/N,” he said warmly.
“Same.” You answered with a smile.
Then the bell chimed behind him, leaving you standing there with flour on your cheek and a smile you somehow couldn’t wipe off your face.
The rest of the day floated by in a dreamy haze. You hummed while finishing the morning batch of scones, chatted cheerfully with every customer, and caught yourself glancing at the door more than once, already picturing the two of you on that trail together.
When you finally flipped the sign to “Closed” that evening, you locked up with a soft, content smile, heart still light and full of sweet anticipation.
Had you known what would be waiting for you the next morning, you might have held onto that smile just a little tighter.
-gamer!yunho who's very selfish abt his two fav things.
-fluff blurb
The two of you often spend time together by being apart. When yunho is gaming on his set up on the other side of the room you are lying back in bed switching between your phone and laptop. The both of you usually sit silently with earbuds and headphones in with the occasional groan when your movie starts to buffer, while yunho speaks softly into his headset if he's playing with other people. When he feels like screaming at the top of his lungs he'll try to silently rage and punch the air as carefully as possible. Neither of you really get loud unless you suddenly get on a phone call with one of your best friends or when he just absolutely can't stop himself from cursing at the screen.
You turn to check on him more than he recognizes, since the two of you don't cross paths much during the self proclaimed enrichment time. Even by looking at the back of his head you can read his body language and it's enough silent confirmation that he's content. On the other hand when he checks on you it's never silent or unrecognizable, it's almost always because he's somehow sensed you moving off the bed. You swear he has spider senses the way his head snaps towards you as soon as the tip of your toe touches the floor. Every time you try to be more quiet and gentle than the last but it never fails, he's instantly got eyes on you saying, "What are you doing?"
"Nothing" you look at him with wide eyes and start to retreat.
If you catch him at just the right time and he's able to, he'll get up and start walking towards you.
"Then lay back down" his eyebrows scrunch together as he ushers you back to bed and you giggle as he gently pushes you back onto the mattress.
"Yun" you whine annoyed, with a contradictory smile on your face.
You get up on your knees to be face to face with him and he returns a coy smirk. "What? If you want water or something i'll grab it" He says reaching out to pull your hoodie string to an even length. Truly your need to get up isn't that intense, sometimes you get bored of laying down or need to stretch. Yunho's need to keep you in the room is somehow much stronger and you can't put your finger on why. You know he likes being of service and will make it so you never need to get up again, but the way he insists makes it seem like he thinks you're gonna bolt out the door the second he's not looking. He doesn't know how to put into words how coexisting like this makes him feel, that even just being in the same room as you changes the entire atmosphere and satisfies his neediness, making him feel a thousand times calmer when he's feeling a bit extra clingy or anxious. Eventually he'll settle for convincing you to stay put by simply asking nicely, "Just stay right there okay?" He nods bright eyed, waiting for you to nod back. When you finally do and get back comfortable he settles in his chair, facing you for a bit before spinning back around to face his monitor.
Over the next few weeks you turn it into a game, seeing how far you can get before Yunho turns around. You wait for him to play a game he can't pause, watching as his character on the screen moves around before carefully moving to the edge of the bed. You get a full foot down when he starts turning towards you, making you take a quick second to decide on bolting out of the room. You can hear him shout a strong "Ya!" after you and although there's a small delay as he quickly hides his game character away somewhere safe, he's soon closing the distance between you two. Before you can get far you feel his large hands grab at your waist as he lifts you up and into his arms. "Where you running off to?" He mumbles while walking you back over to his gaming chair to sit down, holding you captive in his lap. "Bored" you ring out, watching him tune back into his game as if he never left it unattended. "I'll make this my last game, yeah?"
Nights like this just felt right — your warm hand in Yunho's much larger one, fingers locked between one another’s. City lights blurred in the night sky almost like stars as Yunho sped down the highway. The windows rolled down just a bit, enough to feel the wind whip across your cheeks. Your joint playlist floated from the car's speakers, setting the mood further.
You could smell the dinner he'd picked up in the back seat, as well. The aroma of pan-fried dumplings wafted to your nose, promising a delicious meal later in the evening.
You were having a hard time taking your eyes off of your boyfriend, not that you wanted to. He was always insanely attractive, but seeing him under the flashing glow of the street lights, you felt your heart fluttering more than usual.
"What are you thinking about, pretty?" His thumb rubs the back of your hand gently as he brings you back from your thoughts.
"Just,” you sigh, gathering your thoughts, “how much I love you. And how much I miss doing this."
Yunho feels warmth spread to his cheeks. He glances over at you with a smile before returning his attention to the road. "Me too."
"You love me or you miss doing this?"
"Both. Definitely both." You hum contentedly and relax against your seat, noticing that you're approaching the destination -- Yunho's apartment parking garage.
It wasn’t uncommon for you and your boyfriend to wind up on the top floor of the parking structure. It was a quiet, often neglected space, with a view overlooking the city. There, you had spent countless hours together, watching the blue sky morph into blends of yellows and oranges and purples.
Tonight, though, you wanted nothing more than being in each other's company and staring out at the city, or staring at each other, as close to the stars and moon as possible.
It was an autumn night. The temperature was perfect—not stuffy after the sun had gone down like summer, not bone chilling like the winter. A light breeze kissed your skin as you sat atop the hood of his car side by side.
“Are you hungry yet?” He asked.
“No, not yet,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper. Something about the silence was comfortable. You were almost afraid of speaking too loudly. “We’ll eat soon, before it gets cold.”
Yunho looked so soft under the glitter of the moonlight and warm yellow lamps. The slight blush on his nose and round cheeks, his soft round eyes, and perfectly plush lips. His black hair a bit mussed from both the wind and his nap two hours earlier. You looked up at him and he swore that he could see the reflection of each and every star in your eyes.
Without much thought, you reached up and raked your fingers through his hair, pushing it away from his face. He’d been letting it grow longer, and it often fell into his eyes, brushing his lashes. As your hand came down, you cradled his cheek. Melting into your touch, Yunho's gentle brown irises met yours.
"I love you," he whispered. You knew that was coming. Before he could say it out loud, you’d known that he had been thinking it, simply from the way he was looking at you. As if you were the only thing that mattered to him. As if the shining moon above you both was your doing, hung by your delicate hands. As if he could stay there forever with you and enjoy every second, happy for the rest of his life.
You couldn't help but smile as you leaned in toward him, your reply getting lost on his lips. As your lips met, Yunho's fingers settled on your hips, pulling you in closer. You clutched the soft sweater that he wore, feeling the fabric balled up in your palms.
The kiss started passionately — slow and deep. You took his face into your hands, cupping his cheeks as your teeth clicked together.
Without breaking the kiss, Yunho pulled you onto his lap. You lifted one leg to the other side of his hip so that you straddled his hips. Yunho leaned back onto the windshield, pulling you down with him.
While one of his hands held you in place, the other slid to your thigh. Yunho wished so badly that he could feel the skin that was hidden beneath your yoga pants. You felt his grip on your soft curves, leaving a warm sensation where his fingers pressed into you.
Soft smacking sounds filled the air as you brushed your lips together, now slick with saliva. One of your hands traveled from his jaw, down his neck, to his chest while the other played with the hair at the nape of his neck. You gave a light tug, a grunt escaping from his throat.
Your chest pressed to his, as if you were melting into your boyfriend. Yunho’s large, warm palms began to roam your body, feeling your hips and ass and back. Slowly, almost regretfully, he pulled back, breathless. Your lips were just barely touching, still breathing each other’s air. You felt dizzy, intoxicated from his lips. A second later, Yunho was pulling you into a crushing kiss, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.
The kiss had grown hungrier, more heated. You felt Yunho’s hand tug at your waist, urging you to roll your hips together. He loved the feeling of having you on top of him. Your thighs settled over his. Yunho slips his tongue between your parted lips.
Your hands explore the planes that you’re all too familiar with — your boyfriend’s solid chest, his wide shoulders, and his long neck. Soft moans escape you, muffled against his mouth. He groans in response, low as you roll your hips, seeking more friction. Yunho’s lips leave yours to press warm, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, to your neck. You arch into him, gasping, your fingers tightening in his hair.
“We can’t get carried away up here.” He pressed his forehead to yours, heart hammering in his chest.
“I know.” You pause for a breath and nuzzle your nose against his. “It’s just been too long since we did that.”
“I agree.” He hums. His opens his eyes to meet yours already taking in his features. You hold Yunho’s gaze for only a moment before his reddened lips start to curl into a smirk. “Wanna do it some more?”
You giggle and nod in response, slotting your lips against his once more.
Your only witnesses, the stars.
✎ᝰ.
next fic dedicated to the loml, jeong yunho. WHERE MY HOTTEOKS AT?!
if even one person enjoys this, then it was worth posting. thank you for reading ♡
synopsis : After a nightmare leaves you shaken, your boyfriend gently wakes you and holds you close, comforting you with soft words and warmth until you feel safe enough to fall asleep again.
genre : slice of life, romance, fluff, angst if you squint, comfort
warnings : none
author’s note : ik yall are waiting for part 2 of ‘who we were’ but im procrastinating 🙏here’s a short fluffy yuyu oneshot since and i quote ‘a girl needs her happy ending’ 🤓
word count : 0.9k
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
─────────
The first thing Yunho notices is the way your breathing changes.
It’s not loud—just uneven, shaky, like your body forgot how to do it properly. He stirs beside you, still half-asleep, eyes barely open as he shifts under the blankets.
At first, he thinks you’re just moving in your sleep.
Then he hears it.
A small, broken whimper.
His eyes snap open.
“Hey… hey,” he murmurs immediately, pushing himself up on one elbow. His voice is soft, warm with sleep but laced with concern. “Baby?”
You don’t respond.
Your brows are furrowed, lips trembling slightly, hands clenched tight in the sheets like you’re holding onto something that isn’t there.
Another soft sound leaves you—this time closer to a sob.
Yunho’s heart drops.
“Hey, no, no…” he whispers, moving closer instantly. One hand comes up to cradle your cheek, thumb brushing gently over your skin. “You’re okay… you’re okay.”
You’re not waking up.
Your breathing gets worse, chest rising too fast, like you’re running from something even in your sleep.
He doesn’t hesitate.
He leans closer, voice a little firmer now—but still gentle, still so careful with you.
His hand slides to your shoulder, giving you the softest shake.
“Come on, baby… wake up for me.”
Your eyes finally flutter open.
Disoriented. Wide. Scared.
For a second, you don’t recognize anything—not the room, not the bed, not even him.
You flinch, your breathing comes out sharp, like you’ve been pulled out of deep water.
“Hey—hey, it’s okay,” Yunho says immediately, sitting up fully now. He pulls you up with him without thinking, one arm wrapping securely around your shoulders, the other still cupping your face. “You’re okay. You’re here. You’re with me.”
You blink at him, still dazed.
“Yunho…?” your voice comes out small, shaky.
“Yeah,” he breathes, relief flooding his face instantly. “Yeah, I’m here.”
The moment it clicks, you recognize him. Your expression crumples.
You grab onto him like you’re afraid he might disappear.
And he lets you. No hesitation.
He pulls you into his chest fully, arms wrapping tight around you, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek against your hair. “You’re okay. It was just a nightmare. Just a bad dream.”
Your breathing is still uneven, your fingers gripping onto his shirt, bunching the fabric like it’s the only thing grounding you.
“It felt so real…” you whisper, voice breaking.
“I know,” he says softly, rocking you gently without even realizing it. “I know it did.”
He doesn’t rush you.
Doesn’t tell you to calm down. Doesn’t brush it off.
He just holds you.
Steady. Warm. Safe.
His hand moves slowly up and down your back in soft, soothing strokes, the rhythm grounding, constant.
“You’re here,” he repeats quietly. “You’re in bed. With me. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
You press your face into his chest, listening to his heartbeat—slow, steady, real.
It helps. Even if it’s just a little.
“I was scared…” you admit.
“I know, baby,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You don’t have to be anymore.”
You stay like that for a while. Curled into him. Letting your breathing slowly match his. Every inhale steadier than the last.
After a bit, he shifts slightly, just enough to look at you.
His hand comes back to your face, brushing your hair away gently.
“Do you wanna tell me about it?” he asks softly.
You hesitate. Then shake your head.
He nods immediately.
“Okay. That’s okay.”
No pressure. No pushing.
Just understanding.
“Can I stay like this?” you mumble, still holding onto him.
He almost smiles—soft, fond, a little sleepy.
“You don’t even have to ask,” he murmurs.
He adjusts the blankets around both of you, pulling them up carefully so you’re warm, tucked in, secure.
Then he shifts so you’re more comfortable—your head resting against his chest, his arm wrapped snugly around you, holding you close.
One of his hands finds yours under the blanket, fingers lacing together.
He gives your hand a small squeeze.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says quietly.
You hum softly, eyes already starting to feel heavy again.
“But what if it comes back…” you whisper.
His thumb brushes over your knuckles.
“Then I’ll wake you up again,” he says. “Every time.”
That does something to your chest.
You relax a little more into him.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He presses another kiss to your forehead.
Then another.
Soft. Gentle. Lingering.
“You’re safe with me,” he whispers.
And this time, when you close your eyes, there’s no fear.
Just warmth. Just him.
Just the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you, grounding you back into reality.
Back into something soft.
Something real. Something safe.
And Yunho stays awake a little longer.
Just to make sure. Just to feel your breathing even out completely.
Just to keep holding you like letting go was never an option in the first place.
→ pairing: yunho x gn reader. teeth rotting fluff. insomnia. reader feels guilty asking for things.
WC: 1.7K
→ song recc: i cant sleep — kim samuel tmt —stray kids (I love yellow wood era) UN village — baekhyun ungodly hours — chloexhalle
so I'm fucking stupid this was meant to be an ask anonie I'm so sorry I accidentally posted a just 'hi' and like wtf there's still the ask in my ask section but it couldn't answer and when I did post it said oops try again anon I'm so sorry if you're seeing this (I hope you are) I have your fic
anonie thank you for the kind words if you're reading (i hope you are) have a good day I'll shut up now here you go:
You can't sleep.
You've spent fourty minutes tossing and turning in the sheets, rustling the fabric to find a perfect sleeping position yet none prevails. Shutting your eyes, counting from one to a hundred, imagining peaceful sceneries, nothing helps. The ache in your chest hammers gently like a forgotten chore, and you hate it.
It's hell. You need to wake early the next morning yet here you are arguing with sleep itself, you're expecting a grumpy version of yourself tomorrow bitching about. How fun. So, you decide to consult your ever loving boyfriend.
"Hnrhg?" Yunho lets out a gurgle, thick from sleep as you ringed his line. Feeling guilty for pulling him away from the embrace of slumber, you wince slightly
"Sorry" you whisper, "I can't sleep again, Yu" you sigh, fiddling with your own fingers as you sit up in bed. There's a hum and yawn from the end of the line and Yunho's groggy 'just woke up' voice fills your ears
"Don't be, I told you already didn't I? If you can't sleep just call me"
"Yeah. And that's what I did. Now what, Yunho?" You could mentally see him diverting his eyeballs to the side, something he does often when he's thinking. "I don't know, haven't thought that far.
There's a warm silence between the both of you, not awkward. It feels like taking a breather when drinking warm tea together, it's never awkward with Yunho. "Do you want me to talk about my day?" He asks and you hum in response. "You don't have to reply, and it's best if you fall asleep halfway through. I'll just end the call when you're asleep" he hums back at you, still thinking of what to talk about.
"Oh, yeah. We found a new vending machine today. I think it's newly installed, there's more variety of drinks in comparison to the old one, but the vending machine turned out to be a bill stealer from the very start." Yunho yaps "Woo tried to grab some kind of soda drink but the machine refused to accept his cash for the first few times, and when it did there was no drink. We had to shake the machine several times for it to finally give the drink. What a workout."
A soft huff leaves you, barely there, but he hears it anyway. “There it is,” he murmurs, pleased. “Knew you were listening." You lay in bed, blanked pulled all the way to your chest, arms crossed above your stomach as you stare at the ceiling above. Your phone lays beside you on the pillow, speakers spilling with Yunho's voice. He talked about the stray cat he found in an alley and shared his lunch with, he talked about his friends, about the grandma who complimented his smile, and the weather and how it's perfect for a barbeque.
Usually, or on the occasions that you do a.) can't sleep and b.) decided to call Yunho instead of suffering alone by scrolling through YouTube for sleep documentaries, listening to him talk was enough to make you doze off. Sometimes you'd be able to make out a "goodnight, my love" before the line goes silent, when your eyes and body are too tired to move and your mind is in a limbo between staying awake and falling into slumber.
This time however is different.
You still can't fall asleep, and you feel bad for telling Yunho that you are still in fact wide awake.
"—and that's how my day went" he finally wraps up after twenty minutes of rambling, you're glad he could make it this far having a conversation that's equivalent to talking to a wall "are you still awake?"
You contemplated not answering, Yunho must be tired after a long day and you cruelly pulled him away from the sweet embrace of sleep to entertain you. So you don't say a word.
"I know you're still awake" Yunho's voice fills the room after a short silence "you can't fool me, your breathing pattern is slightly different when you're asleep"
"Fuck." You exhale, so much for pretending "I'm sorry Yu, i just can't fall asleep. Sorry for waking you up, you can just go back to bed, I'll deal with this alo—"
"Do you want me to sing for you?"
"Sorry?"
"You've always liked it when I sang for you."
A beat.
Then another.
The beat drops. This would be funnier if it was set in a story where the location is a club or a rave.
Neither of you say anything.
"Sure, I guess?" You managed to swallow the lump in your throat to sound back a reply, "Good, let me go through my playlist real quick to find a good song... Ah! Here we go"
The background instrumental plays, and it's a song that Yunho used to hum to during times when you both weren't talking, just a comfortable and respectful silence between the both of you. You never said it, but this is your favorite. Whenever he starts humming this song, you instinctively perk up. You can hear soft rustling in the background as his honeyed voice fills the space of your room, maybe he's tossing and turning in bed? Could be. Might be that he's trying to find a comfortable position.
There’s another soft rustle from the other end of the line, more fabric shifting, something moving and then Yunho’s voice settles back in. It’s quieter now, softer.
Warm in a way that reminds you of those throat candies people take when they’re sick; gingery, a little sweet, something that melts slowly and leaves behind a gentle warmth. The kind that soothes without you noticing, that washes down the uneasiness sitting in your chest until it’s gone before you can even think about it.
You sink further into your pillow, eyes half-lidded.
There’s a faint sound in the backgrounda door opening, then closing. You assume he’s just getting some water. He hums lightly before switching songs. This one, you recognise it immediately. Another favourite of yours, of course. You don’t say anything, but something in you softens all the same.
He keeps singing.
One song turns into another, then another, his voice never wavering, just as gentle, just as steady. Like he’s not even trying, like it comes naturally to him. By the third, maybe fourth song, your body feels heavier, your limbs sinking into the mattress, your blanket pulled snug up to your chin. Sleep feels close, but not quite there.
“…you still there?” he asks quietly when the song fades.You hum in response, barely audible. “I knew it,” he mutters softly, and you can practically hear the small smile in his voice. “Open your door.”
Your eyes flutter open. “…what?”
“I’m outside, dumdum. Open the door.”
For a second, you don’t move. Because there’s no way.
There’s no way he’d actually come.
But then your heart starts picking up, a quiet thud-thud against your ribs as you sit up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders. You had a feeling he might.
Or maybe you just hoped he would.
Still, you didn’t want to ask. He’s tired. He has his own day to deal with. You didn’t want to be too much. So this feels almost too good to be real.
You pad quietly to the door, fingers hesitating just slightly over the handle before you finally pull it open.
And there he is.
Standing there like it’s the most normal thing in the world.Jacket thrown on, hair a little messy, eyes crinkled into soft crescents as he smiles at you.
“Hi,” he says, like he didn’t just show up in the middle of the night. Something in your chest gives way. He opens his arms without another word.
And you don’t even think before stepping into them.The moment you do, everything melts.The restlessness. The tension. The frustration that had been sitting with you all nightit all slips away as his arms wrap around you, warm and steady and real.
“I got you,” he murmurs into your hair.
You nod against him, fingers clutching lightly at his jacket.
The door clicks shut behind you, and you barely remember walking back to your bed.
All you really register is Yunho’s hand warm around yours, guiding you gently, like you might disappear if he lets go. “C’mere,” he murmurs, already pulling the blanket back for you.
You sit first, then crawl under the covers, the sheets still holding a bit of your earlier restlessness but it fades quickly the moment he slips in beside you. He doesn’t hesitate. Never does. One arm wraps around your waist, the other finding its place behind your head, pulling you closer until you’re tucked neatly against his chest.
“Better?” he asks softly.
You nod, pressing your face into his shirt. It smells like him; clean, familiar, something that settles your mind almost instantly.“Yeah,” you mumble. “Way better.”
“Good.”His voice is quieter now. Sleepier.
But he stays awake, for you. His fingers find your hair not long after, gently threading through the strands, slow and absentminded. He doesn’t rush it, just soft strokes, over and over, like he’s memorised the motion.
You melt completely like a popsicle on a summer's day Your body sinks into his, tension unraveling piece by piece under his touch. “There we go…” he whispers, more to himself than to you. His thumb brushes lightly against your scalp, then back through your hair again, careful and steady. It’s rhythmic. Comforting.
You let out a quiet sigh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep in your chest. Your breathing starts to slow down, becoming even.
“Still awake?” he murmurs after a while.
“Mm… barely,” you mumble, words already slurring. He lets out the softest chuckle,
his hand never stops moving. Even when his own breathing starts to grow heavier.
Even when his voice fades into silence.
You feel his chin rest lightly on the top of your head, his hold on you loosening just slightly as sleep begins to take him too.
But his fingers they’re still in your hair. Still moving. Slower now, sleepier. But there.
Like he’s holding onto you even in his dreams.
And somewhere in between his warmth, his steady breathing, and the gentle pull of his touch, sleep finally takes you. No restlessness. No ache.Just warmth. Just him.
Looks like you’ll sleep just fine tonight.
end
written at 2 am bc your bitch also has insomnia haha not really I've written this across the span of two days but both at ungodly hours of the night
