#ateez angst oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaslayer · 1 month

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home (khj) | one shot.

—summary: when your home no longer feels like home.

—pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) established relationship au | fluff, smut, heavy angst

—word count: 24k

—content/warnings: *open-ended, sad ending* cussing/mature language, very platonic cuddling and biting btwn oc and bff lol, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, intoxication, house party scenes, club scenes, making out, protected/unprotected sex, hongjoong’s pull out game on 100, marking/hickeys, thumb sucking, slight choking, breast play, clit play, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, praising, car sex, *toxic relationship themes (hints of infidelity, gaslighting/manipulation, jealousy, anxiety, bad temper, multiple heartbreaks, crying, yelling/loud arguing, friends getting involved during fights) - please proceed with caution*

—on rotation: change - arin ray & kehlani ・burn - usher ・snooze (acoustic vers) - sza & justin bieber ・ i wish i hated you - ariana grande

Home.

When you think of the word home, plenty of things come to mind: your family, fun times in the backyard with the grill going, home-cooked meals, the smell of the fresh tree and peppermint during Christmas time;

Hongjoong.

It’s been a little over 2 years since Hongjoong has made a home in your heart and continues to— him being your other half and knowing you like the back of his hand. Things started off so beautifully, blossoming into the greatest love you’ve ever known. You remember the day you met him like it was yesterday, remembering every single detail down to the weather, where you were at, how you were feeling at that exact moment;

The excitement, the infatuation, the thrill, the chase.

As beautifully as those moments blossomed, there were other moments that came crashing down, too.

So when you think of the word home, plenty of other things come to mind: loud arguments and hurtful words, doors being slammed, glass hitting the wall, crying till the point your chest hurts;

Hongjoong.

—LATE JUNIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Dude!” Wooyoung runs over to your circle of friends, pushing through the crowd that’s currently in Changbin’s living room. “Cops are outside, we gotta go!”

“What do you mean we gotta go, Woo? We took a fucking uber—”

“Shut it down! Now!” You hear the cops at Changbin’s door, urging for the party to be shut down immediately due to multiple complaints from neighbors for being too loud and disturbing the peace. Quite frankly, it was past 1am and Changbin still had his dj playing music. On top of that, people were outside constantly yelling during rounds of beer pong and being a mess, even down on the sidewalk.

You couldn’t say you were surprised.

However, you are surprised with how fast Wooyoung is booking it. You don’t even know where your other friends are at, or where he’s even going.

“Jung Wooyoung, what the fuck! Where are we going?” You continue to run past him, barely able to catch up especially while drunk.

“This way!” He cuts through the backyard, down the alley and towards a random car you truly don’t recognize.

“Whose car is that?! Wooyoung!” You call for him, but he hops in anyway, dragging you along with him. Everything happens way too fast, you don’t even realize you’re smushed in the backseat of a mini SUV, sitting on someone’s lap. Everyone in the car is loud, the music is loud, the driver is no other than Jeong Yunho—

“Yunho?” You furrow your brows as you peek over the passenger’s seat, quickly glancing down at the unfamiliar individual sitting there. “When did you drive to the party?! Whose car is this?!” You look over to see another unfamiliar individual plopped in the left seat, with Wooyoung in the middle— your friend Ara on said unfamiliar’s lap.

“I told you at lunch that I was driving and asked if you two needed a ride. It’s my cousin’s.” He laughs. “He’s out of town and left the car with us. Told me I could use it if I wanted to. Just make sure no one fucking yacks or else I’m tossing you out. No question.”

“You did not!” You reply to the part where he claims he told you. He probably did, but you can’t remember for the life of you.

“Sure did. You were too busy arguing or whatever with Bin.” Hm, sounds about right, you think. Yunho looks at the rearview mirror to meet your eyes before shifting back to the road. “By the way, this is Mingi. That’s San. And dude you're sitting on is—.”

“Hongjoong.” You look behind you and see Hongjoong giving you a small smile just as he says his name. His hands are awkwardly at his sides, rosy tint coloring the surface of his cheeks as he tries to keep still as much as possible.

“I’m.. so sorry about all of this.” You tell him as you hang onto the headrest in front of you, apologizing to Mingi when your fingers accidentally tug on a hair strand.

“All good.” Hongjoong chuckles, a little unsure of what to do with himself. He’s only met you about a couple of minutes ago, and you’re already on his lap. How sway?

“I saw Yunho while I was trying to find an easy way out and he called for me to follow him, so..” Wooyoung says, but your eyes quickly divert to one of your friends who had been gone the entire night.

“Ara, where have you even been all night?” You tap her arm.

“Around.” She giggles, enjoying herself on San’s lap. They continue to talk amongst each other, and it’s clear where she’s been all night. Welp, as long as she’s happy, and as long as you all are out of trouble’s way.

“Shit, sorry.” Yunho says, abruptly braking.

“Jesus fucking christ, Jeong Yunho.” You put your hand out to stop yourself from crashing into the headrest, another pair of arms suddenly wrapping around your waist to keep you steady.

“Woah there. You good?” Hongjoong still has his arms wrapped around your waist, and you can’t help but shyly nod. You are too drunk for this.

“I wasn’t gonna make it! Sorry!” He points at the yellow light.

“You would’ve made it.” Mingi laughs.

“What would you know, you’re high as shit.” Yunho sighs. “Never being DD again with my cousin’s car. For real. I got somebody high in the front seat and 5 people in the back seat.” He looks around while he patiently waits for the light to turn. “Good thing it’s kinda dead out here.” Yunho quickly turns. “Anywhere we can hang out for a bit?”

“You can go to mine, my roommate is gone for the weekend.”

“You sure?” You nod.

“Yeah. Thanks for driving and letting us squish in here.” You give Yunho a small smile. “We can order some food when we get to my place.”

“Sick.” Yunho presses on the gas, driving at a safe speed down to your apartment. You learn that San, Mingi and Hongjoong go to the neighboring university, but they’ve known Yunho since middle school. For a minute, you forget you’re sitting on Hongjoong’s lap with how comfortable you’ve gotten, conversing with your friends as Yunho continues to drive to the apartment. And Hongjoong doesn’t mind either; hell, he’s forgotten about the entire situation, his hands resting on your thighs. If anything, he’s determined it could help in case Yunho decides to do a hard-brake again. You don’t seem to be uncomfortable and that’s all that matters.

So, all is well and Yunho brings everyone to the apartment in one piece. You immediately hop off of Hongjoong’s lap and quickly thank him for tonight before taking the lead with Wooyoung to your apartment door. Everyone else trails behind at their own speed, with Hongjoong digging his hands into his pockets while he observes you and Wooyoung loudly laughing at your door. You’ve got your arm linked with his as you both crack jokes and playfully bicker. At one point, Wooyoung bites your shoulder, causing you to yelp in pain and push him off. It’s an interesting relationship, he thinks. He’s never seen people be so close and comfortable, but he supposes it’s nice that you two are able to be that way.

“Get comfortable!” You say as everyone finally makes their way inside, kicking their shoes off to the side. “Water is in the fridge, along with other drinks. Feel free to grab anything.”

“Should we order some pizza and chicken?” Yunho is already scrolling through his phone. “That sounds bomb right now.”

“Yeah, that does. Order it and let us know how much we should chip in.” Wooyoung plops onto the floor, grabbing your remote off of the coffee table. “Dude, it’s still pretty early.”

“This is early to you?”

“The night is very much still young, my dear.” He says, pinching your cheeks. You smack his hand away before yawning into your own hands, excusing yourself to the bathroom to change and get comfy while everyone gets situated around the living room. Wooyoung throws on a random scary movie for some source of entertainment, some source of background noise. You quickly wash up and change into a matching hoodie and sweats set, startling yourself when you damn near run into Hongjoong lingering in your hallway. “Oh shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I don’t mean to seem like a creep, but I was just looking for your bathroom.. but.. I see you just came out of it, so..” He scratches at his temple and you giggle.

“I’m all done.” Hongjoong nods and brushes past, hurriedly making his way to the toilet to break the seal. Once he’s felt relief, he takes a minute to wash his hands and splash a bit of cold water to his face. He’s still feeling the alcohol, bits of the edible, too. But, he’s definitely not as crossed as earlier in the night. Just as he’s patting his face dry, he takes note of all your skincare laying around; that cute pink headband with a huge strawberry on it, various face sheet masks arranged neatly, random rings and other trinkets spread across the open space. Otherwise, both you and your roommate seem to be really organized and neat.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” He says when he catches you in your room. “For letting me borrow the bathroom.” You chuckle, Hongjoong’s eyes roaming around as he peeks in.

“You can come in, you know? My room isn’t entirely off limits.”

“I don’t want to intrude.” He gives you a small smile. “You do have a cozy room, though.”

“Thanks. I try.” You let out a tiny giggle, tossing your clothes into the hamper as he steps inside and slowly eyes the prints and photos organized beautifully along the off-white wall.

“These are nice. Do you order them from somewhere in particular?”

“No. I just look online and buy whatever looks good.” You stand next to him.

“But.. these photos. Did you take them?” He points at the scenic photos you took of and around Hanauma Bay during a family trip to Oahu years ago.

“Yeah.” You tilt your head to the side. “Wow, I miss Oahu. I think it’s time to tell my family we need to do something and go back.” He chuckles.

“They’re beautiful.” You look at him and give him a tiny smile. “Everything about them. The angles. Crisp edges.” He says softly, mainly to himself, but it’s still loud enough for you to hear.

“Thanks. Are you into photography or something?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I try to take my own pictures, too. Just like holding onto memories that way.”

“I agree.” He smiles at you before glancing at the rest of your room. Everything about your room is also neat, organized and incredibly in sync— if that makes sense. Everything follows a certain theme, a certain color tone. Whites, creams, soft pastels. His eyes just gloss over the room in such a smooth way, he’s positive you love being in here.

“Do you spend a lot of time in your room?”

“How can you tell?”

“The way you decorated it. You put a lot of thought into it. It’s really nice. I meant it when I said it looked cozy.”

“You’re just throwing compliments left and right. What did I do to deserve it?” You laugh, and it Hongjoong finds his smile growing bigger.

“I’m just being honest.”

“Well, thank you, Hongjoong. I appreciate it.”

“Are you two hooking up or something? The food is here!” Yunho is heard at the end of the hallway, careful to not walk into something he doesn’t wanna walk into.

“Yunho, why the fuck would I hook up with someone with the door wide open?” You ask as you lead the way out of the room, Hongjoong following behind and shutting your room door close.

“I don’t know, you’re drunk.”

“I’m pretty sober now after everything that’s happened.” Wooyoung is at the coffee table, already spreading out the pizza boxes next to the bucket of chicken.

“So, you weren’t making out in there?” You smack Wooyoung upside the head before plopping down next to him. Hongjoong lets out a small laugh, taking a seat at the end of the coffee table while Mingi does the same on the opposite end. Ara and San are still flirting a storm on your couch, while Yunho takes a seat on Wooyoung’s free side.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I’m sure Hongjoong would be down, you were already pressed up on his lap earlier.” He whispers right into your ear.

“Oh my god. What’s wrong with you?” You pinch him on the thigh, making him yelp in response.

“I’m just saying you deserve all the fun, baby. Jesus. Just go for it next time.” He continues to tease. “Anyway, here. Let’s eat up.”

“What’s playing on the TV right now?” Yunho asks, already gobbling down a slice.

“Who fucking knows, but it’s kinda funny.” Wooyoung laughs at the screen. For the rest of the night, everyone is eating to their heart’s content and actually watching whatever movie happens to be playing on the TV. You stand for a moment to grab some water from the kitchen, unaware that Hongjoong had followed you over to grab another bottle of his own.

“Mind if I grab one, too?”

“Here.” You hand him the bottle, cocking a brow up when Hongjoong hasn’t stopped staring at you.

“Um.” He chuckles and points to your cheek. “May I? You.. there’s sauce.” You giggle.

“Oh shit, wow. That’s embarrassing.” He wets a paper towel before gently dabbing at your cheek, eyes focused on getting the sauce off of your skin. His face is merely inches away, hand gently holding your chin up towards the light.

“There.” He says softly. Except, Hongjoong doesn’t release his grip from your chin right away, eyes now glazing over your features. You’re really, really pretty, and something about you is enticing to him; even if you two have barely known each other for the night, you are enticing and he is curious about you.

“Thank you, Hongjoong.” You say ever so sweetly and it confirms the thoughts swirling in his head— intoxicated or not.

“You’re welcome.” His thumb grazes over your cheek for one last quality control check before he steps back. “Wanna catch the rest of the movie?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Truth be told, Hongjoong isn’t even sure how the whole night unfolded this way. He wasn’t even planning on going out, but leave it to Mingi, San and Yunho to convince him until the very end. He had noticed you ever since the party, eyes glancing around the living room over the edge of his cup while he people-watched, took in his surroundings. What caught his eye the most was how bubbly and energetic you were around everyone, always being the life of the party and genuinely enjoying yourself. You’d loudly laugh and joke, smile from ear to ear while dancing around with a bag of chips in your hand. You didn’t have to do much to be that way, and Hongjoong could tell you were only being yourself. He liked that. He liked seeing you happy, he liked seeing you be you.

So colorful, vibrant.

But, truthfully, he was afraid to make a move. Mainly afraid, but he also knows what kinda wreck he’s been lately. Just lots of shit, lots of baggage— he’s not sure what he’s really ready for or if he’s ready for anything. The thoughts alone are enough to keep him still in his place, pushing certain desires and wants to the back of his mind to try and focus on fixing his shit first.

He can be selfish sometimes, though. It is beautifully dangerous for Hongjoong. Beautiful because it works, dangerous because it works.

So at the end of the night, after Hongjoong watches you giggle away to the stupid movie on the TV, after watching you happily gobble away at the pizza and chicken, after your hands grazed over his a few times; he is going to be selfish.

That would change the trajectory of everything for him, for you.

Ever since that night, Hongjoong and his friends would invite you and your friends to hang out at their apartments and vice versa— engaging in casual drinking over board games and more movies. Every hangout led to you and Hongjoong getting closer and closer, teetering into new territory quicker than you both imagined.

“Hey.” Hongjoong says, stepping out onto his balcony where he finds you getting some fresh air. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here?” He jokingly teases, making you roll your eyes even though you feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Ew, don’t ever.” He laughs, swinging an arm around your shoulders.

“Why are you smiling like that then?”

“Not because of you.” You tease.

“I don’t see anyone else out here.” He looks down at you. “Seriously, what’s up? You okay?”

“Just wanted to get some air.”

“Wanna go for a walk with me, or do you wanna stay here?”

“Can we stay here? I was looking up at the stars.” You look up. “They’re so bright tonight, Joong. I feel like I haven’t seen them like this in forever.”

“Hm.” He hums, eyes glued onto your side profile. You’re not even doing anything in particular, but this moment right here makes Hongjoong want to pull you close.

Kiss you.

Hold your hand.

“Are you looking?” You look at him with a brow cocked up and he laughs.

“Honestly, nah. I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m just..” He pauses, brushing the hair away from your face. “Let me take you out on a date.”

“You— wait, what?”

“Let me take you out on a date.” He chuckles, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “Please?” Hongjoong had been a bit more affectionate with you as time went on, and you welcomed it because whatever he was feeling, you surely were feeling too. Unspoken feelings and little acts of affection kept you going, and you thrived on it, if you were being honest. You loved the cute ‘lil pinches on your side, the ‘lil moments where he’d grab your hand and let it linger for awhile, the ‘lil moments you’d catch him staring at you from across the room, the ‘lil texts that showed you were on his mind in one way or another. It was the subtle chase, and you loved it.

“A date, hm?”

“I’m serious.” He clicks his teeth in defeat, making you giggle.

“Alright, yeah. Take me out on a date, Hongjoong.” He smiles.

“Yeah? It’ll be fun.”

“Where are you planning on taking me?”

“Why would I tell you that, pretty?” He boops the tip of your nose. “I promise. I got you.”

And to that end, he did. He fulfilled his promise, and he did have you. He took you to a basketball game, one that you had been dying to catch for months, but never had the time to do so. He picked you up that morning and drove to the arena 45 minutes away from campus. It wasn’t like any other date you’ve been on, no. But, it was a date you enjoyed because you had fun and you were comfortable enough to be yourself around him already. You screamed together, you yelled at the refs together, you cheered on the team together. During the game, he’d hold your hand or throw an arm over your shoulder before giving you a quick peck on the cheek or temple. You don’t know what it is, but you trusted him. A lot. Quickly, too.

After the game, he took you out for dinner at a casual restaurant nearby, asking you to order whatever you wanted and that he’d cover everything, as long as you were happy. The two of you talked about everything and anything about life, and you felt like Hongjoong understood you just as you did with him. You knew a bit about his family after all the kick-its and hangouts your friends had. You knew he had an older brother he looked up to and adored, you knew he loved his parents more than anything. You knew he loved his senior dog named Momo, and you knew he cherished his childhood home, his friends— near and far. He knew you also had a good relationship with your family, and he knew the little things about you that made you.. you. It was an equal situation of give and take; not one taking more or less than the other.

Sooner or later, more dates occurred, the affection and PDA progressed to the point that everyone automatically paired you two together. Wherever he was, they’d figured they’d find you there and vice versa. It wasn’t until the date at the baseball game a month later when he made things official with you. Hongjoong knew all the right things to do, all the right things to say. It almost felt unreal that you had him by your side— a stranger whose lap you sat on just to get away from the cops, a stranger you knew nothing about and had no intentions of getting close to.

That stranger became everything to you in such a short amount of time, but you didn’t want it any other way. It felt good being with Hongjoong, and it felt like pure bliss being with him. You were certain you had finally reached cloud nine, and you didn’t think you’d ever come down from it.

“Hello?” You pick up the phone just as you begin to walk to the parking lot after your last class; books tucked against your chest, bag strap slung on your shoulder.

“Hey baby, did you just get out of class?”

“Mhm. Finally! I’m so tired today.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. You don’t have anything else going on tonight, do you?”

“No, but I have homework to finish and I definitely have to study for our next test. What about you? How was school today?”

“Same old. Can’t complain. I just have some things to finish tonight, too.” You hear rustling in the background, followed by his door shutting.

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah. I went to the gym really quickly.” He lets out a sigh. “I miss you.”

“Aw, I miss you, too. You’ll see me tomorrow, though.”

“I know but.. it feels like a long time from now.” You step into your car and let out a breathy giggle. “Do you wanna just stay over tonight?” You pause, hearing the question come from him. You’ve hung out at Hongjoong’s apartment more times than you can count, but you’ve never stayed the night since Hongjoong was always so careful about being too quick or pressuring you into doing something you weren’t ready for. It’s not that you weren’t ready, and you definitely thought about it more recently. But, you were also shy because it felt like a huge step for you and Hongjoong’s relationship. Though, you knew he’d enjoy it just as much as you would. You just had to overcome all of your overthinking and get over your assumptions, you think.

“Joong, I have to study tonight.”

“Study at mine. I won’t bug you.” He laughs. “I have some homework I gotta get through, too.” Silence. “Baby, no pressure but I really just miss you.”

“Joongie.” You almost whine. You miss him, too. You really, really do. “Okay, yeah.”

“Really?” He says excitedly.

“Mhm.” You laugh. “I just need to go home, shower and pack a few things.”

“Mmkay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“Okay.”

“See you soon, pretty girl.” You hang up the call, eyeing the phone before shaking your head and driving home. Not gonna lie, you were extra nervous. You were excited to finally spend the night with him, but you were nervous. You were nervous thinking about what the night would bring. What could it possibly bring? Were you two really gonna study and just go to sleep? Would Hongjoong expect things from you? Hongjoong would kiss you, slowly make out with you and touch you in certain places, but never expected more from it— again, mainly because he was afraid to unintentionally pressure you in any way.

Welp.

You quickly brush your thoughts away and hop in the shower before throwing on a lazy outfit consisting of an oversized sweater and biker shorts. You pack up some things, telling your roommate you’ll be back tomorrow. She teases you a few times about finally sleeping over, yelling from her room that she’ll be excited to hear details if you actually do come back the following day.

When Hongjoong comes, it’s about 15 minutes after you finish packing. He tells you he’s parked near the curb out front, slipping into your shoes and rushing out the front door to greet him. He’s in a hoodie and sweats, hood up on his head while he scrolls through his phone waiting for your arrival.

“Hi.” You happily say, hopping into the passenger’s seat after dropping your bags into the trunk.

“Hey.” He beams at you, leaning over for a kiss. “Ready?” You nod, buckling in your seatbelt. Hongjoong stops by the nearest McDonalds to grab some greasy fast food for you two to indulge in while you both study away.

The apartment is quiet tonight, with San being out and Mingi studying away in his room. The both of you make a beeline to his room, Hongjoong hauling your bags while you take charge of carrying the food in. You place the bag down on the desk, carefully setting the food onto the surface. You let out a squeal when you feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you in between his legs when he settles onto the edge of his bed.

“I missed you. I’m glad you’re staying tonight.” His hands are at your hips, gently squeezing before caressing your bare skin.

“I missed you, too.” You cup his cheeks and give him a kiss on the lips.

“Let’s eat first?” He chases after your lips for another quick kiss. “You’ll have energy to study.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You give him a tiny, toothless smile. You and Hongjoong talk about your day in more detail while eating, laughing and teasing each other before settling down for the rest of the evening. He offers you a shirt to change into so you can be more comfortable, and you take it; slipping into it with ease before plopping back onto his bed with your books in hand. You tuck one leg in, while the other is propped out, with Hongjoong laying on his stomach next to you. He plants random kisses along your leg from time to time, throwing an arm over to hold onto it while he continues to work through his homework.

Surprisingly, you do finish everything.

“Babe.” You call for him as you shut your books close about two hours later, Hongjoong now folding some clothes and putting them away in his closet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m done.” You smile, packing your things into your backpack.

“Nice. See, I told you I wouldn’t bug you.” You laugh, making grabby-hands at Hongjoong.

“Are you almost done, though?”

“I am. Just a few more, then we can cuddle for the rest of the night. Sound good?” You nod.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You hop off and grab your toiletries, throwing on a random pair of Hongjoong’s extra sweats before waddling to the bathroom. You take your time brushing your teeth, washing your face and getting cozy for the night before heading back into Hongjoong’s room. He’s back on the edge of his bed, this time, sorting through Netflix to find something to watch. You carefully slip under his sheets, texting away with Ara and Wooyoung until Hongjoong shuts off his lights and slips in next to you.

The one thing you’ve learned from Hongjoong is that he always gives you his full attention. He never scrolls through his phone for long if you’re with him, doesn’t let other shit occupy his attention. It’s you, and it’s always about you.

So, you set your phone aside and let him pull you into his arms, fixing the pillows so you could comfortably lay on his chest while he lays back against the headboard.

“You okay, baby? Comfortable?” He asks softly. You nod and he gives you a sweet, feathery kiss on the top of your head before starting the movie. There’s silence that falls between you two when the movie begins, but it’s comfortable. It’s sweet, it’s comfortable, it’s peace. Hongjoong gently runs his hand up and down your arm, tracing faint shapes on the surface as a small, reassuring way of saying he loves taking care of you— loves keeping you safe, warm.

Eventually, the movie hits the halfway mark, and you’re kinda over it. You’re over it because all you wanna do is kiss Joong and lazily make out with him until you can’t anymore. You just want him, all of him, and you don’t really wanna wait for the next opportunity to come around when you can have him here, right now. In this bed.

“Babe.” You call for him softly as you rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.

“Hm?” He hums, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Pay attention to me.” You pout, making him shift his attention from the screen down to you.

“I am.” He laughs a bit, hand gently massaging at your scalp. “What can I do for you, baby girl?”

“Just want a kiss.”

“Mm. I’ll be more than happy to give you that.” He smiles. “C’mere.” He adjusts once more while you rise and bring yourself closer, lips locking onto his the moment you are close enough to do so. Even after you pull away, you repeatedly kiss him— Hongjoong squeezing your side in between kisses as a way to encourage you to keep going.

And you do.

The kiss deepens and the movie is now a long-gone thought in the background; simply filling noise, filling space. He lets out a soft sigh when you tug back on his bottom lip and suck onto it, following up with another kiss to keep the intensity alive. Your tongues are fighting for dominance, giving Hongjoong leverage to lay you down onto the mattress while he hovers over your body.

His lips trail down your jaw, down to your neck. He gently nips and sucks at the surface, leaving marks along the way to show off who you truly belong to in this crazy, fucked up world. You are his, and his only.

“Wanna take care of you, baby. Can I?” He pauses as his hand slowly travels underneath your shirt and up your side, thumb caressing right under your bra line. You simply nod, feeling his hand travel to the back of your bra to unhook it in one quick move. You help by tugging your straps down and tossing the bra off to the side, Joong’s hand now coming up to cup your breast— letting out a shaking breath when he toys with your perked nipples.

“Joong.” You whimper. He gives you a look before he pulls your shirt upward, tongue carefully swirling around a bud before repeating the same on the other. He watches as your back slightly arches in response, goosebumps etched on your chest, arms. He plants chaste kisses down your stomach, trailing down to your clothed core.

“Is it okay if I keep going?” He whispers, fingers toying with the band of your cute red panties.

“Please.” You respond, arousal overflowing in the pit of your gut. He hooks his finger onto your panties and slides them off, biting onto his bottom lip when he finally has you like this under his hold. To be honest, you’ve never really had fulfilling sexual experiences in your previous relationship. The sex was good, but it wasn’t great, nor was it memorable. Your ex had a tendency to fuck for one purpose only, and that was to get himself off. He’d never go down on you, but he’d finger you as part of the foreplay. He’d keep it to missionary, never really down to explore other positions or find something that’ll spice up shit in the bedroom. But you were young, so you never really complained. You truthfully thought that was how sexual experiences worked— who were you to fight against that if you didn’t really have anything else to work off of or compare it to?

The other thing about Hongjoong is that he is keen on showing you differently, satisfying and pleasing you to the end. Because it’s you, and it’s always about you.

His thumb presses against your clit, earning a small gasp from you. He smiles at how sensitive you are, damn near begging him to touch you in all the right places, fuck you ‘till you can’t walk. And he will, but he wants to explore you first; really explore you and take you in.

“You’re so beautiful.” His eyes are glued onto you, slipping in two digits inside of you. “So wet.” He curls his fingers just right, pumping them at a perfect rhythm.

“Oh— Joongie.” You let out, toes curling at the end of the bed, hands gripping the sheets when he lowers himself back down in between your thighs; pressing sweet kisses to the inner parts before coming down to your pussy. Everything feels so slow, yet so intimate and special, even when Hongjoong finally latches on and laps away at your clit while his digits continue to pump into you. You’re moaning a little louder now, but he only hopes the TV is loud enough to muffle the noises because he truly could care less about shushing you and trying to keep it down for his roommates.

Oops.

So as to say that you’ve never had memorable sexual experiences with your past, you’ve also never really felt what a real, raw orgasm felt like. And when the first one hits you, it feels like a certain high where all you hear are fireworks exploding. You tremble in his grip and Joong soothes you by kissing you all over, praising you for doing so well, whispering that he’d continue to take care of you. He digs for a condom in his nightstand, sheets draped over his body when he sits back to roll the condom down on his length. Your eyes can’t help fix on it, his tip red and angry— ready to feel you, make you feel good but equally ruin you in the best possible ways.

He eases himself in, lips grazing over yours as he locks eyes with you. The both of you let out soft moans while adjusting to the feeling, Joong keeping a slow pace until you’re more comfortable.

“Keep going.” You manage to whisper against him, enjoying the feeling of being full of him. He picks up his pace, rocking his hips at a steadier pace that has him muttering curse words to himself, your nails digging into his back while your moans get a little louder.

“Baby.” He chuckles. “Fuck— you sound so sexy, but—” He pants a bit, furrowing his brows as he forces himself to hold on a little bit longer. “Mingi.”

“I can’t.” You whine. “Feels too good.” He lets out another shaky breath hearing that slip from your lips, his ego climbing just a bit knowing he can make you tremble under his grip, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger like this.

“So good.” He responds. “So good for me, princess. You’re so, so good.” He praises you, nibbling on your earlobe when his hips snap at a messier, rougher pace. He sucks on your neck more, darkening the reddish blobs littering across the column. You start to move your hips to match his movements, earning a deep groan from Hongjoong. “Ohhhfuck, Y/N. I won’t last.” He dips his thumb down to your clit, wanting to push you over the edge so, so badly. “Can you come for me again, baby? Hm?”

“Hongjoong.” You repeatedly moan his name like a mantra, feeling the coil in your stomach threatening to snap any second now.

“Mhm, that’s it. Come all over me. Give it to me.” He coaxes you. Suddenly, your orgasm washes over and makes your bones feel like jelly; everything sounds and feels like white noise even when Hongjoong snaps his hips roughly, chasing his high until he spills into the condom.

“Holy fuck.” You manage to let out as you try to regulate your breathing— eyes glossy, lips swollen, hair a mess, hickeys covering your neck. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to Hongjoong, and god, does he love seeing you underneath him like this.

“God, you’re perfect.” He kisses you on the lips, carefully removing himself from inside of you. He steps out of the bed and tosses the condom into the trash, slipping back into his sweats to grab the wipes from the bathroom. “You’re so pretty.” He laughs, watching as you lie there, letting him clean you up and take care of you.

“This is pretty to you?”

“Incredibly.” He smiles. “Gonna grab us some water.” He turns to the TV. “Fuck the movie, I guess?” You laugh.

“Yeah, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay, baby. I’ll be right back.” He kisses your forehead before running out to grab some water.

“I see you two were having some fun.” Mingi says with a smirk on his face, exiting the bathroom after a quick shower. Hongjoong truthfully didn’t even hear his ass walk into the bathroom and step into the shower.

“Oops. My bad, dude. We’ll keep it down next time.” Hongjoong chuckles, returning to the room with some water. “Here, drink some. You should probably go pee, too.”

“Joong, I’m so lazy.” You respond after chugging some water.

“Go.” He hands you the sweats you were wearing earlier. You roll your eyes and shove them on, earning a quick ass-slap from Hongjoong for the attitude.

You definitely slept well that night.

And the next morning felt even more perfect, being that you didn’t wake up to a Hongjoong next to you; but, you did wake up to a Hongjoong bringing you a plate of breakfast in bed. He cutely sat on the edge of the bed, brushing the hair out of your face while the other hand held a plate with rice, eggs and spam drizzled in sriracha. You certainly didn’t wanna leave him that day, especially when he pressed repeated kisses against your lips in the car— reassuring you he’d be back to pick you up after classes.

“How was it?” Wooyoung asks as you two sit in the café before classes, raising a brow at the hickeys you’re trying to cover with your sweater [but clearly failing]. “Or should I even ask?” He scratches at his neck as a way to point out your hickeys.

“Uh.” You fiddle with the straw on your drink, biting onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling too big.

“Ew.” He laughs. “You’re so bad at hiding them, dude. Did he try to eat you or something?”

“You asked!” You tuck your hoodie up. “I didn’t think he’d give me that many hickeys.”

“Mm.” Wooyoung hums. “At least it was good.” He snorts, making you toss a crumpled napkin at his face.

“He made me breakfast in bed, too.”

“You spoiled little brat.” He laughs, this time earning a kick under the table. “Ow, you’re so fiesty today!” He complains.

“Woo, listen to me.” You pout.

“What? The fuck can you possibly be sad about when you got the best fuck of your life and breakfast in bed?”

“Sometimes, I feel like he’s too good to be true.” You give him a look.

“What, why?”

“He’s just so good to me.”

“And you deserve to be loved that way, Y/N. Don’t ever question that shit.” Wooyoung points at you in a scolding manner. “I can tell he genuinely cares about you and really, really likes you. Let the guy love you.”

“Really?” He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, really. It’s the cutest shit. You two are cute.” He pats himself on the back. “Say thank you Wooyoung for throwing us in the backseat of Yunho’s car.”

“Fuck no, you wish.” You joke. Though, you really are grateful for that specific moment. You are grateful to Wooyoung and his irrational, loud, spontaneous ass. You are grateful that Yunho just happened to be there, right at that very second, with the people he was with. Because it brought you to Hongjoong, the one person that has become your homie, lover and friend all in one.

So yeah, maybe Wooyoung is right. After your shitty exes and unfulfilling relationships, maybe you do deserve this.

All of this.

—SUMMER

“Y/N, my favorite!” Hongjoong’s dad says happily as he stands at the front door, watching you step out of the car.

“Hi to you too.” Hongjoong jokes with his dad, making him push Hongjoong out of the way in order to pull you into a big hug. “Mom, your husband doesn’t know how to show love to his youngest son!” Hongjoong yells into the house.

“Hi!” You hug him back before stepping into the house, kicking off your shoes and setting your duffle bag down. His mom comes to greet you, followed by his older brother and his dog, Momo.

“You look so cute today.” His mom says, bringing you to the dining table. “Come eat, I just finished cooking. I made sure to get you some fried fish since I know it’s your favorite.” You sit and look up at her with appreciation before letting out a small ‘thank you.’

When Hongjoong first told you that his family really wanted to meet you, you were scared. You were scared, and you were nervous. All you wanted to do was make a good impression, enough for them to like you and support your relationship with their son.

But it ended up being so much more than that, and you were super happy with the outcome.

You had built such a strong bond with his family over time, just as he did with yours. You constantly wanted to join Hongjoong when he visited home. His parents always asked about you, always wanted to know when the next time you’d drop by. Sometimes, his parents would drive down just to hang out and see you both. Hongjoong had taken you to a huge family gathering or two, his parents proudly showing you off to their family members.

It went the same way with your own parents, but your parents weren’t as adventurous as Hongjoong’s. They loved taking weekend trips to nearby places, while your family loved staying home and being in their comfort zone with the occasional family trips here and there. Your family wasn’t as big as his, and your family loved being lowkey. It wasn’t a problem, but you ended up hanging out with Hongjoong and his family more just because they were closer to the universities and had more plans in store. Plus, you bonded with his father and his older brother over basketball. It was always a good time.

“What time are you guys heading to the party tonight?” His dad sits on the opposite side, already digging into the fried fish that laid flat in the center of the table.

“I don’t know, probably 9 or something.” Hongjoong picks at the fish, dropping pieces into your bowl of rice.

“Whose house is it at?”

“Joshua’s.” His dad nods.

“Y/N, you’re finally gonna meet his childhood friends.” You nod.

“I know, I can’t wait.” You giggle.

“They’re all obnoxious freeloaders.” Hongjoong’s mom laughs while she washes the pans in the sink, telling his father to be nice.

“So what hotel are we staying at over the weekend?” The main reason you two came down for the weekend was because it was a childhood friend’s birthday, and because his parents had plans to do a weekend staycation at a hotel nearly 1.5 hours away. They invited you two to come along, especially since his brother was tagging along, too.

“It’s a smaller one, but it has suites. Ours has a full blown kitchen, living area and two rooms. But we have to sneak Momo in.”

“What do you mean we have to sneak Momo in?” Hongjoong chuckles. “You didn’t check if it was a pet-friendly hotel?”

“I think it is, but I’m not sure. It’s too late to ask anyway. He won’t make a peep.” The both of you turn to Momo sleeping in his crate.

“Yeah, he’s an old man.”

“You and your brother need to sleep out on the pull-out couch so Y/N has the room to herself.”

“Babe, I’m gonna slip into your room.” You playfully nudge him in the midst of eating, rolling your eyes.

“I’m sure the couch will be just as great, Joongie.”

“Don’t be like that.” He pouts.

“Give her some space, my goodness.” You laugh at his mom’s response, excited to spend the weekend with them nonetheless.

The night comes rather quickly, especially after you’ve walked Momo with Joong and tagged along to buy some groceries for the weekend staycation. You’ve dressed yourself up in a cute little mini skirt and a top, while Hongjoong is sporting a white Stussy shirt, black jeans and a backwards cap. The house isn’t too far from his own; the town that his family lives in not being incredibly huge. He pulls up to a block lined with big, two-story homes [similarly to his], parking in a spot around the round-about. The house at the corner is flooding with people— either hanging out outside or in the house, and the music is muffled behind the walls of the house.

“Ready, baby?” You give him a nod and he quickly leans over to kiss you on the lips. The two of you walk hand in hand towards the house, Hongjoong already greeting people the moment you’ve stepped onto the property.

You’re a bit relieved when you see San, Mingi and Yunho hanging around in the house, instantly greeting them while Hongjoong continues to say his hellos. It’s not long before you’re returning back to his side because Hongjoong is proudly introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend, his lady, his girl; arm either swung around your shoulder or your waist. Even though these are people he mainly grew up with, you didn’t feel entirely left out with how down-to-earth and outgoing everyone was.

“Let me get you something to drink.” Hongjoong kisses your temple before tapping your hips and leaving you to Yunho, San and Mingi.

“Dude, I’m glad you came tonight.” Yunho swings an arm around you. “Where’s Woo at?”

“He went home, too! He’s barely been around his apartment cause he’s been spending time with family.”

“He does hate being around school.” You laugh.

“He does.”

“Did you get to meet everyone? I think mostly everyone’s here.” Mingi looks around, sipping on his drink. Hongjoong comes back around with a red cup full of a sweet, fruity cocktail in his hand. He hands you the cup and presses another chaste kiss to your lips before hugging you from behind.

“I think so.” Right at this moment, more roars are coming towards the backyard door where a few heads walk in. Loud greetings and hugs are being thrown towards the group that just arrived, Hongjoong, Yunho, San and Mingi happily greeting the guy that walks in first.

“My guy!” Hongjoong daps him up and everything, even with his one arm still wrapped around your shoulder.

“Kim fucking Hongjoong, it’s about time! I haven’t seen you in so long, dude!” The guy looks down at you with a big smile, giving you a curt nod. “Who’s the pretty lady? Is this Y/N?”

“Sure is.” Hongjoong smiles. “This is my girlfriend, Y/N. Y/N, Jisung.” He properly introduces you.

“I’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, his semi-long permed black hair cascading down the sides of his face. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Truthfully, you’ve probably only heard Jisung’s name tossed around a few times, but Joong has never really talked about him like that. It does make your heart soar that he’s proudly talking about you and beaming about your relationship.

A girl comes up behind Jisung and loudly greets Yunho, San and Mingi. Her eyes simply glaze over you and Hongjoong, but she manages to mutter a small ‘hey’ before pulling Jisung to the drinks. It’s not until someone calls out her name that you realize it’s Hongjoong’s Tara; his ex, Tara. You don’t miss how Hongjoong’s smile fades a bit, and how his body becomes rather stiff. But, he manages to play it off well— returning his attention to you as if the vibe switch never happened. He had always been honest about his relationship with her, telling you that they had always been close before they started dating. But unfortunately, all of that has gone to waste with how awful their break up was. He doesn’t give you details on the breakup— how, why or when it happened. You just know that they’re awkward, and that they’re back to being strangers.

It is what it is, he says. Maybe it just works out better that way.

You never pressed on it, never asked him more. Because whatever Hongjoong was willing to share was okay with you, and as long as he was okay, you were okay. Same thing goes for you and your ex— Hongjoong never pressed you to share what you weren’t comfortable with; but he damn sure made up for everything you had gone through in your previous relationship. He made sure to kiss every scar, every wound, every thought, that made you believe you weren’t enough or that you lacked in certain areas.

Because to him, you truly didn’t. You were one of a kind.

Throughout the night, you and Hongjoong continue to stick to each other, sharing affectionate moments in between silly dances. Tara surprisingly didn’t make her presence known much, and that eased the anxiety you felt when she first walked in. It’s not like you expected him to be bothered purely by the way he talked about their history, but at the same time, you didn’t know what to expect and you didn’t know her. You just wanted to have a good time with him and the people he enjoyed being around. You loved being with him more than anything, and you loved the attention he always gave you. You didn’t have to ask because Hongjoong always gave, always made sure to take care of you before anyone else.

Towards the end, you find yourself clinging close to Yunho and participating in a round of beer pong with him while Hongjoong steps outside to take a few hits of a blunt Jisung made.

“I’m glad you brought Y/N along. I’ve been dying to meet her since your ass talks about her so much.” Joong laughs just as he exhales.

“That’s my girl.”

“You look hella happy with her.”

“I am. We just.. fit. She really does make me happy.” Joong takes another hit.

“That’s good. I’m happy for you.” Jisung chuckles. “So does that mean..?” Joong looks at him because he already knows what he’s talking about.

“We’re not really talking.”

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, though.” Jisung cocks a brow up. “I’m assuming you’re over her and everything since Y/N is around now.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” Is all Hongjoong says. “Been over with.”

“Okay.” Jisung responds. He leaves it at that because even though a tiny part of him feels like Hongjoong isn’t actually over it, who is he to argue against it? Only Hongjoong knows what’s going on in that head of his. Jisung can only hope you don’t get hurt by anything in the end because you seem like a genuinely nice and sweet girl.

Once Hongjoong and Jisung are done smoking, he comes to find you finishing up the round with Yunho. He celebrates your victory, showering you in kisses before whispering in your ear that he wanted to get the fuck up out of there. You take the keys from him and step into the driver’s seat, sober enough compared to your boyfriend since Yunho took all the beer during beer pong. The both of you recount different moments of the party, with you telling Hongjoong that you really enjoyed meeting his group of friends from home.

“Baby.” He breaks the silence, hand on your thigh and giving it a good squeeze.

“Yes?” You quickly look over at him before looking back out to the road.

“You’re so pretty.” He says, the weed still in his system; eyes still glossy and red. “I liked seeing you have fun tonight.”

“Joong.” You giggle.

“No, seriously. You’re perfect.” He squeezes at your thigh again, fingers slowly trailing up to your inner thighs and sending goosebumps to ripple through your body.

“No one’s perfect.”

“You are. To me.” Your breath quietly hitches when you feel his fingers tease at the hem of your skirt. “My pretty girl.” His hand finally dips underneath, teasing at your panties.

“You do remember we’re going back to your parents’ house, right?”

“Mhm.” He teases at the edge of the material; so close, yet so far. Threatening to be right where you want him. “Just sleep in my room.”

“I’m not doing that with your parents around, Hongjoong.” He chuckles.

“They won’t care. Fuck the guest room. You can just be quiet for me, right pretty?” He bites onto his bottom lip.

“Hongjoong.” You whine, almost unable to finish the drive home with the way your boyfriend is being.

“Pull into the park’s lot.” He points ahead. “Need you right now.”

“In the lot?!”

“You won’t sleep in my room, so..” You let out a breath, still obeying to pull into the lot. You needed him just as bad, the ache becoming unbearable in between your legs. You park under the tree for more ‘privacy’ [if you can even it call it that], the rest of the lot completely empty and dark. As soon as you put the gear in park, Hongjoong is tugging onto your shirt, begging for you to be on his lap. “Ride me.” He adjusts the seat enough so that you have room to climb over, already unbuckling his belt and undoing his jeans. When you land on his lap, he tugs your panties to the side and guides you onto his tip, letting out a loud moan when you finally sink down on his length. “Fuuuuck.”

“Joong, someone might see us.”

“No one will see us.” He digs his fingers deeper into your hips, encouraging you to work your hips faster.

“We don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll pull out.” He laughs. “Fuck baby, I promise. We’re okay.” He kisses you sweetly on the lips. “Just need you right now. Ride me like the good girl you are, hm?” You let out a breathy moan hearing his raspy voice, working your hips back and forth at a steady pace.

“Feels so good.” You whine.

“Always know how to ride me so well.” He dips his thumb into your mouth, watching you wrap your pretty lips around it. “And you’re all mine. Right, princess?”

“I’m yours.” You mewl with a nod just as he slips his thumb out of your mouth, hand now coming to your neck with enough pressure. He pulls you in for a sloppy, wet kiss, shared moans released in between kisses. The friction against your clit is adding onto the pleasure you feel, your orgasm building quick. It only takes a few more rolls against him before you feel yourself unraveling, moans echoing within the car— you’d really be surprised if nobody questioned it. The car moving, sounds probably heard through the windows.

You can’t believe him right now.

“Hongjoong, I’m gonna—” You don’t even finish your sentence before your squeezing the life out of him, walls pulsing around his length. It’s enough to bring Hongjoong’s orgasm out of him, the panic lowkey mixing with the pleasure he’s feeling.

“Fuck— up, baby. Up.” He taps your hips and you move upwards, Joong releasing right into his hand as soon as he’s out. You’re still twitching from the sensitivity while also trying to regulate your breathing, exhaustion hitting you quick in the tight space. “Shit.” Hongjoong says, looking around to grab a napkin.

“You’re so messy.” You joke, making him laugh.

“Where else could I have done it, hm? Enlighten me.” You point to your mouth to tease him. He responds by clicking his teeth, wiping away in between your legs before tending to himself. “Don’t say shit like that, Y/N. We might never make it back to my parents’ place.” You laugh and hop off, albeit struggling to make it back to the driver’s seat.

“We’re leaving.” You fix yourself a bit more before buckling your seatbelt in and starting up the car. Joong continues to adjust himself back into his jeans before settling, letting out a hefty sigh when he’s comfortable.

“Offer still stands, love.”

“What offer?”

“To sleep in my room.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He pouts and whines. “I’m telling you right now, my parents won’t care.”

“I do!”

“Baby, how are you gonna do me like that?”

“You’ll see me down the hall in the morning.” You smile at him before driving up the hill, the park literally being down the street from the house. When you arrive and park at the curb in front of the house, you and Joong quietly step inside and slip out of your shoes. He playfully grabs you by the waist, pulling you into more kisses in the dark to prevent you from heading up the stairs. You silently scold him and laugh against his lips, afraid his parents will wake up and see you two making out in the entryway. Just as you’re about to head down to the guest room, Joong tugs you by the wrist and pulls you into his room for another round of kisses.

“Just stay with me.” He whispers before locking his lips with yours again.

“I’m down the hall.” He gently sucks onto your bottom lip, slightly pushing himself up against you. “Kim Hongjoong. Stop it.” You tap him on the chest and he sighs in defeat.

“I hate sleeping without you.”

“It’s for one weekend.” You blush at Hongjoong’s neediness. Quite frankly, you don’t wanna be without him either, and it’s taking everything in you to leave him. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

“Fine.” He meets your eyes while caressing your chin. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smile at him before leaving him in his room to head down to the guest room. The guest room has a half bathroom that you use to get ready for the night. You quickly wash up and throw on a comfy pajama set before slipping into the bed and plugging your phone into the charger. Hongjoong sends you a few more texts and pouty faces before you send one final text saying you were setting the phone down for the night.

The next morning, you’re woken up by his parents making breakfast downstairs, followed by Hongjoong’s dad yelling for him and his brother to wake up and take Momo out. Hongjoong’s actually the first to be up, responding that he’ll take Momo out after he checks on his other baby first. You giggle to yourself under the covers until you feel another body jump onto the sheets and hug you tightly. He showers you with tickles and kisses before getting up to get ready for the rest of the weekend ahead.

Which, was amazing. Something you’ll always remember, something you’ll always keep close to your heart.

The hotel was small, but beautiful, and it sat in the middle of a cute town. You successfully snuck Momo into the suite with Hongjoong and his brother; the boys tasked with hauling his things and his crate, while you tucked him nicely into a blanket and carried him into the room once the coast was clear. The entire weekend was spent walking around town or playing around at the pool while Hongjoong’s parents always cooked the best meals. Hongjoong would occasionally sneak into your room just to pepper you with kisses and lay with you for a bit before you would whine about his parents finding him in there. It was a weekend full of laughter, bonding, candid photos, kisses and sweet praises from Hongjoong— telling you he felt so lucky to have you.

You, perfect for him.

You, everything to him.

And that continued even after the weekend. You and Hongjoong both found summer jobs just to keep yourselves busy, but he never failed to make you feel loved despite the slight change in schedules. He’d drop by as soon as you both were off, bringing you a bouquet of ‘just cause’ flowers before kissing you and holding you close. He’d bring you to work on days he didn’t have work and patiently wait for you to get off. He’d cook you a good meal, cuddle you and make love to you in the best [yet nastiest] ways. He’d surprise you with little things here and there— shoes, little trinkets, shirts— things he knew you’d like and that reminded him of you, only you. The hangouts with your friends and his friends continued, the bond between all of you only growing more tight.

You could say that summer was amazing. It was the happiest you’ve felt in such a long time. Or.. ever, if you’re being honest.

You were so happy that the moments when Hongjoong would go home for a night to hang out with his childhood friends or help his parents, you’d be sad. You knew you couldn’t always be with him, but those moments when you weren’t, easily made you feel incomplete. You were used to having him around, stuck at your hip while he kissed your temple and kept you close.

You felt empty, like your other half was missing.

“You’re leaving me.” You pout as you wait for your smoothie to be done, Hongjoong resting his chin on top of your head while he lazily holds you from behind. Tonight was one of those nights where you’d be sleeping without Hongjoong, a night where you wouldn’t get any cuddles, kisses.

A night without his warmth.

“Only for the night, love. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He presses his lips to your head. Once your smoothie is done, you take it to the car with your hand in his, head hung low because you don’t wanna be without Hongjoong for a night. You’ve gotten so used to being with him that one night feels way too long.

When he finally gets you back to the apartment, he kisses you sweetly; hands cupping your cheeks before he presses a kiss to your forehead. He tells you how much he’s gonna miss his pretty girl for the night, but he’ll be back before you know it. You smile, hugging him tightly before waving him off and watching his car drive off towards the direction of home.

Though you already missed him, you happily skip to your room and eat your favorite breakfast bagel with your smoothie; reminiscing about how summer has been so, so good to you.

How Hongjoong has been so, so good to you.

—SENIOR YEAR IN COLLEGE

“Hi!” You giggle as you hop into Hongjoong’s car, leaning in to kiss him. But, he moves away, furrowing his brows at you. He’s angry, and you’re not exactly sure why. “Um, okay. What’s wrong?”

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for close to 15 minutes and you weren’t even answering my texts or calls.”

“Babe, I’m sorry. Class ran late and then I ran into Ara and Wooyoung on the way over.” He pulls out of the lot rather quickly, speeding off to his apartment from campus. “Slow down.”

“You couldn’t take that one second to text me or let me know?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it.” He doesn’t respond.

“Yeah, you didn’t.”

“It’s 15 minutes, Joong.”

“I’m just saying you could’ve told me, Y/N. I picked you up, it’s the least you could do.”

“The least I could do? If you didn’t wanna pick me up, you could’ve just said so—”

“That’s not the point.”

“Hongjoong, I didn’t do this on purpose. It just slipped my mind.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble. “Why are you so angry with me? I haven’t seen you all day.”

“Exactly.” Is all he says, leaning into his hand propped near the window as the other steers the wheel. You feel the tears building up quickly because not only was this unintentional, but Hongjoong is making you feel incredibly guilty for no reason.

“I said I was sorry. Why are you being like that?”

“I’m not being like anything, Y/N.”

“You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” He quickly turns to you with a glare before looking back out at the road. “I do hella shit for you, the least you could do is fucking let me know you’re gonna be late instead of letting me look dumb.” You flinch at his words, a mixture of both anger and sadness running through your body.

“I don’t mean to be such a chore for you.”

“Wow, there you go putting words into my mouth again. No one even said that.” You cross your arms and quietly slump in your seat, subtly wiping away at the tears streaming down your cheeks. You don’t even continue the conversation, leaving the air heavy and thick for the remaining 10 minute drive home to his apartment.

Once you get there, you simply kick off your shoes and sadly greet San and Mingi before walking into Hongjoong’s room. You change into comfier clothes, and slip into bed; studying for next week’s test and taking notes on your iPad while Joong talks to the boys outside in the living room. They start up a game of FIFA that has them screaming in the living room for an hour or so before they decide they’re gonna head out for a bit. Usually, Hongjoong skips in and begs you to come because he doesn’t wanna go anywhere without you. He loves having fun with you, seeing you smile and being able to kiss you in between.

But tonight, he rushes into the room without saying a word, and grabs a jacket before heading back out. The door to his room shuts close and you can’t help but feel your heart break. All of this over being 15 minutes late, and you feel terrible about yourself.

Why were you doing everything wrong?

“Woo.” You cry into the phone.

“What’s wrong?” You continue to cry quietly. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Joong was just hella mad at me. For the dumbest reason.”

“What happened?”

“Dude, he was so mad at me for taking too long. Said I should’ve just texted him and let him know instead of making him look dumb for 15 minutes.”

“I’m sorry, what? That’s what you’re arguing about?” He clicks his teeth. “Y/N, please stop crying. Where is he right now?”

“I don’t know, he left with San and Mingi.”

“Do you want me to pick you up?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“He didn’t say anything else to you?”

“No. He was angry. Sped the fuck off to the apartment and everything.”

“I get where he’s coming from but it’s really not that big of a deal. It’s not like you always do this to him.”

“Why do I feel so bad and guilty about everything? I always feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You’re not. He’s just not thinking.” You sniff and wipe away at your face, glancing at the time. You didn’t think Hongjoong would be back any time soon, so you continue to talk to Wooyoung on the phone while going through your notes. It’s about 2 hours in before Wooyoung says he’s gonna call it a night since he needs to wake up early and head home for the weekend. You let him go and get yourself ready for bed— fully expecting Hongjoong to probably sleep outside or create a gap between you two.

You wake up close to midnight when you hear San barge into the room with repeated apologies, hair a mess.

“Y/N, I am so sorry to wake you, but I need help.” You look up at him and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. Suddenly, the sound of someone falling into the floor and crashing into the dining room table echoes in the living room and San panics. “They’re both fucking drunk.” San says, stumbling back into the living room to find Mingi laid out on the dining room chairs, while Hongjoong is on the floor. You sigh and let San guide Mingi to his room, while you tend to your boyfriend.

“Joong, get up.”

“Baby. I’m sooo drunk.”

“Yeah, I can see that. You need to get up, though.” You try to pull him up by the arm. Luckily, he cooperates, though he stumbles a bit while you guide him to the bathroom. “Can we get you ready for bed?”

“Only if you come with me.” He hiccups. You shake your head and sigh.

“Yeah.” You sit him on the toilet. “Sit. I need to grab you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna fall over and die.” He laughs.

“You’re not.” San comes out of the hallway, letting out a huge sigh.

“Mingi’s in bed.”

“Can you watch him? I need to grab him some clothes.” San sits with him while you grab him a change of clothes. You hear them fumbling in the bathroom before Hongjoong lets out another laugh.

“Dude, keep still. Jesus Christ. You’re so lucky Y/N’s taking care of you. I would’ve left your ass there to fend for yourself.” He scolds him just as you walk back into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Sannie.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile and nods.

“I’m sorry about this.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just go and get some rest.”

“I’m gonna sleep on Mingi’s floor in case he yacks on himself.” He rolls his eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“My pretty baby.” He continues to tug you closer, making grabby hands and being all needy.

“Stop, Joong. Get your shirt off.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He whines as you switch out his shirt.

“Cause you were mad at me for something stupid.”

“You were taking so long. I just wanted to be with you, but Wooyoung was taking up your time. W-Wouldn’t you feel the same way?” He slurs.

“Ara, too.” You look at him. “You don’t need to get mad at me for things like that, Hongjoong.” You can’t believe you’re having this talk with him while he’s intoxicated. But for whatever reason, you feel like he’ll understand you better this way. He’ll be less mean, less temperamental.

It shouldn’t be that way, though.

“Sorry.” He mumbles as you help him switch into his pajama bottoms. You don’t respond as you quickly wipe down his face with a wet face towel, handing him his toothbrush. “Baby, m’sorry. What more do you want?” He’s only accepting defeat because what else can he do being this vulnerable right now?

“Okay.” You give him what he wants. “Brush your teeth so you can get to bed.” Hongjoong brushes his teeth, grabbing the tiny cup of mouthwash you hand him before guiding him to the bed. He plops down onto his stomach, arm lazily hanging off the edge while you tuck him in. He falls asleep rather quickly, already deep in sleep when you place a water bottle on the nightstand and a trash can near the bed.

You sleep easily throughout the night after that, with the occasional Hongjoong tossing and turning in bed, sitting up to drink water before he’s back to holding you and keeping you close. You feel his lips press against the back of your head and neck a few times, but you don’t budge. Because you’re still upset, yet you’ve pushed it to the back of your mind to take care of him.

Oh, Hongjoong.

You wish you weren’t so easy to fold when it came to him, your relationship. Hongjoong does so, so well bringing you up; but you’re learning over time and as your relationship goes on, he does so, so well bringing you down, too.

The following morning comes, and Mingi is yacking his brains out in the bathroom. You shrug Hongjoong’s arm off of you before you stretch and slip out of it, Joong way too out of it to even care. By the time you make it outside, Mingi is standing at the bathroom doorway, holding onto his stomach. You ask him if he’s okay and he winces, telling you he’s unsure if he’s got more left in him. You gently push him back to his room to rest before you’re cleaning the bathroom and washing up for the day. You cook a good meal for the boys, arranging a plate for your boyfriend. By the time that you’ve set the food out and cleaned up, Hongjoong is awake, but also struggling to move much.

“God, I’m so fucking hungover.” He mumbles and groans, barely able to look you in the eye.

“Eat.” You set the breakfast on his table.

“You made breakfast?”

“Yeah, cause both you and Mingi sound terrible right now.”

“Baby.” He sits up to drink water before pulling you in between his legs. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” You try to push off, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.

“Hey. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“It’s fine, Joong.”

“You don’t seem like you’re fine.”

“It’s fine. I’ll text you from now on if I’m gonna be late. I just don’t need you getting mad at me for that.” He hums against your chest and continues to hold you without saying much. So, you stand and wrap your arms around him, letting out a sigh in hopes that all the pent-up frustration would leave, too.

“You’re so good to me.”

“I hope so.” You look down at him, swallowing the lump in your throat. You truly hope you are good to him. At least, you hope he genuinely believes so because it’s so easy to feel like you aren’t, like you aren’t doing enough, especially when Joong gets like that.

Though over time, you believe he meant it, for the most part. Hongjoong is better, but that doesn’t mean the arguments have settled completely. The moments they do spring up, he’s back to his ways of keeping silent and brushing you off, or leaving you behind. He comes back late, slipping into bed before pulling you close and whispering his apologies into your ear.

It’s a never-ending cycle, a circle, but you take it because Joong is what you’ve known, Joong is your other half. You take it because Joong is your home, and that maybe, this was just a silly little phase. Something you two will eventually grow out of.

A little bump in the road, a hill to overcome. As with any relationship.

A weekend full of fun activities eventually makes way, one that universities in your town and neighboring cities always look forward to. It’s the one weekend where all campuses get together for a full day of music, food and friendly competition before partying the night away at a local venue. This year the event was going to be held in the next city over, about an hour drive down. You, Hongjoong and your friends had packed up all your things and drove separately— you with Joong, Wooyoung with Yunho and Ara, San with Mingi.

As soon as you all arrive at the hotel, you unpack and grab dinner before heading to bed for the festivities the next day that started bright and early. You knew you were gonna have tons of fun this weekend, but you didn’t expect it to be the same weekend that you’d be tested; that your relationship would be riding its downhill course yet again.

Your group, along with other familiar faces, stayed during the majority of the day’s events. You and Wooyoung ran into a lot of people you knew growing up, catching up while standing in line for snacks and food, or in between the games happening out on the field. So did Joong.

And he was his usual self, happily introducing you to people you hadn’t met before and vice versa. He kept you to his hip whenever he could, peppering you with kisses, dancing around and having fun like the Hongjoong you first fell in love with. A lot of it felt like old times, like there wasn’t a care in the world. It had just been you and him, through rose-tinted glasses.

When it’s time for the afterparty, you and your friends do a shit ton of pre-gaming before heading out to the venue across the street. The coordinators and the huge security team keep a single file line organized right outside of the doors until opening, allowing the venue to be flooded with people right at 8pm on the dot. You hang onto Joong, afraid you’ll lose him in the sea of people, with your friends around you until you find a good spot on the dance floor. No one wastes any time once you settle on a spot— you working your hips on Hongjoong while he holds you close, while San and Ara are also indulging in each other and Wooyoung is pulling random girls to dance. At some point, Yunho and Mingi run over to grab some drinks for everyone to sip on, the DJ’s setlist continuing to hit all the right spots.

“Baby.” Hongjoong says, arm around your waist while he leans in by your ear. “I’m gonna go find Jisung. He said he just got here.”

“Okay. Tell him I said hi.” He pulls away to look at you and smiles, brushing your hair back.

“I will. Be back? Be good?” He chuckles while you nod, planting a sweet kiss to your lips.

For awhile, Hongjoong is gone long enough that you’re not sure if he ever found Jisung. You start exploring around the dance floor, greeting people you know again before heading off to the spacious hallway that leads to the bathrooms and water fountains. Lots of people are standing around and talking, which makes it a bit harder for you to find him. You eventually do though, and you almost wished you hadn’t at that exact moment, at that exact time.

The exact moment when Tara pulls him in for a hug, keeping her arms around his waist while he looks down at her with a fond smile. He laughs loudly while she continues to talk to him, the grip around his waist clearly not loosening any time soon. He throws an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in for another hug; keeping her there for a bit before she finally pulls back and parts from him.

You head towards his direction, his eyes instantly landing on you when you get closer. He gives you the same fond smile, before pulling you in and hugging you close. You swear you could still smell her perfume on his clothes and it gives you the ick.

“I didn’t know Tara was here, too.” You say, even though you should’ve expected it with all the schools invited. You should’ve known she was bound to be here, especially with Jisung being around.

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing, nevermind.”

“No, I know you. What are you catching an attitude about? Because I said hi?” He furrows his brows at you and pulls away.

“It’s not even that—” You’re not even sure how to explain yourself, because how do you tell him she makes you uncomfortable without getting accused of being jealous? You know Hongjoong would instantly get upset, thinking you don’t trust him enough to be around his ex. That’s not the case at all. It’s just something about her that makes you feel.. off, and you can’t exactly put your finger on it. It’s probably the way they’re so up and down sometimes, you can’t tell if Hongjoong wants to keep her in his life or not. It makes you wonder how “awful” their breakup truly was.

But yeah, right now, you are kinda mad about how she hugged him and kept him close. He let that happen, too.

“Just because she’s here, you wanna ruin a good night? Be for real, Y/N. All you fucking do is trip over stupid shit.” He says, alcohol surely not helping in this case.

“I’m trippin’ over stupid shit?”

“Yeah, you are! It’s so fucking unnecessary when you act like that. I was just catching up with Jisung and Tara happened to come by. I don’t know why you assume so many things right away. Nobody is putting those thoughts in your head, you do that to yourself.” Hongjoong harshly lets go of you before walking off and leaving you in the hallway. Yunho is just leaving the bathroom, catching you standing there with a sadness in your eyes that surely doesn’t fit the environment you guys are in right now.

“Yo, you okay?” He throws an arm around you and brings you close, having to talk right in your ear because of the music blasting. You look up at him and shake your head, tears pricking your eyes while you sadly stand there with your arms tucked closely to your chest. “Woah, hey. What’s going on?”

“Tara.” Yunho lets out a small sigh as he frowns. He understands the anxiety that builds when she’s around. He knows their full story, and quite frankly, he’s iffy about the whole Tara thing, too. You clearly don’t know, but Yunho can tell your gut is telling you otherwise— that your instincts are making you defensive, making you overthink. He knows how serious their relationship was, but he also knew how much of a rollercoaster it was. How bad the breakup was, how weird they’ve been even post-break up. Hongjoong is a good guy, and he likes to think that he’d be smart enough [and grown enough] to move on from all that mess. “He’s fucking mad at me because I made a big deal out of it. I’m sorry I don’t want her around him.”

“I’m sorry, that’s totally valid. He’s drunk and he’s being a dick. He’ll realize how stupid he’s being. Let him.” Yunho smiles and gives you a playful pinch on the cheek. “No crying allowed. Let’s go back to the dance floor, okay?”

“Bruh! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Wooyoung grabs your wrist when he finally spots you and Yunho. “Don’t you hear the song they’re playing?! It’s our song!” You laugh, letting Yunho and Wooyoung guide you back to the dance floor. Once Yunho and Wooyoung have successfully brought you back to the dance floor, you’re able to brush off your feelings and forget the stupid drama for a bit. Wooyoung dances closely with you [like he always has], playfully singing around and laughing while simultaneously watching the crowd go crazy around you. Being around Wooyoung feels nice because you’re reminded of the good ol’ times. You’re reminded of the times you used to be so, so carefree and so full of life. You’re reminded of the times you didn’t have to worry about a single thing or feel so fucking anxious and frustrated. You’re reminded of the times when you and Wooyoung used to have tons of fun without a single weight on your shoulders.

Well, scratch that. You still do. It’s just a little different now.

During the remaining time you’re at the party, Hongjoong doesn’t return to you even once. And you know he’s hanging out with Jisung. Probably other childhood friends. Definitely Tara. And your suspicions are confirmed when you excuse yourself from dancing with your bestfriend and a few others to grab water, finding Hongjoong laughing and in good spirits with Jisung, Tara and another friend. There’s a look in his eyes when he looks down at her, and it makes your stomach twist.

Of course.

You’re not really sure why that’s the last straw, it’s not like he was doing anything out in the open with her. He would never do anything, you think. Even if you haven’t seen him throughout the night, he would never. But, it’s definitely the fact that he chose to spend his time with them [her] knowing how you felt.

And that shit is fucked up. You’re hurt.

You make contact with him and roll your eyes, shaking your head right before you take a big swig of water and head out the doors. Before you know it, you’re outside, pushing through the random groups lingering to get fresh air. Luckily, the hotel is a short walk across the street. But, you’re not even sure if you should call Wooyoung and take your things into his shared room with Ara and Yunho because you truly don’t want to be around Hongjoong if he was gonna be like that.

“Fuck.” Hongjoong mumbles to himself. Jisung follows his eyes, watching as you storm out of the venue alone.

“Uh, is she good?” Tara can’t help but look over either, heart sinking when she realizes Hongjoong is about to run after you. Because yeah, she has history with him, and she knows deep down that part of Hongjoong still has a grip on it. Just like she does.

“I’ll catch up with you later, alright?” Is all Hongjoong says before bidding them farewell to chase after you.

“Of course.”

“Tara.” Jisung gently scolds her through his tone. “I know that shit has always been complicated, but I need you to let him be.”

“Okay, Jisung. I’m not even saying anything. It’s just annoying how we can’t even be friends.”

“It’s never just that with you two and you know it.” She looks at Jisung and remains quiet, not having a rebuttal.

She knows, she knows.

Meanwhile, Hongjoong pauses in his steps and searches for your familiar figure. More people have piled outside, making it a bit harder for him to navigate through the crowds. Once he leaves the entrance and finds himself on the street, he sees you nearing the crosswalk.

“Baby, baby.” You hear Hongjoong behind you, footsteps getting louder as he picks up his pace to catch up with you. “Baby, wait. I’m sorry.” He repeats when he grabs your wrist, but you’re quick to snatch it out of his grip.

“Hongjoong, go back to the party. Looks like you were having a fucking blast anyway.”

“No, I don’t want to.” He attempts to grab you again but you’ve moved out of his reach.

“And I don’t want you here.” You sharply look at him. “Just go back with your friends. I’m sure Tara’s looking for you, too.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I wanna be with you.”

“If you actually wanted to spend time with me, then you would’ve done that a long time ago.” You feel the tears threatening to spill from your bottom lid as you continue to walk across the street to the hotel. You keep your distance from Hongjoong, genuinely wanting to be alone and away from him for a moment— but he doesn’t understand and he won’t. Because he’s selfish, and the moment he realizes you’re slipping from his grip, he panics.

Saying and throwing everything your way just to get you calm, to not have you be mad.

“I didn’t mean to get upset at you, it’s just frustrating—”

“I really don’t wanna do this right now, okay? I left alone for a reason.”

“Can you just listen to me for a second?”

“I don’t want to!” You push away from him once again, picking up your pace. “Hongjoong, just go back to your friends. For the love of god, I don’t wanna be around you right now. You fucking knew how I felt about the entire thing yet you still spent time with her and your friends. And you got mad at me for voicing those feelings! God forbid I feel that way about her.” You snap. “I don’t wanna do this anymore. I’m so fucking tired of fighting with you, all we do is—” He comes around and tries to stop you in your tracks, hands on your arms as he tries to pull you close.

“No, baby. You don’t mean that. I’m trying here! What do you want me to do?!” His voice slightly raises.

“You’re trying?! Funny cause you had hella shit to say to me at the party. Don’t try and flip the switch now.”

“I didn’t mean it, fuck!” He groans, attempting to stop you from walking any further again. His tone is loud enough to catch the attention of a couple walking past, eyes fixed on the scene until Hongjoong lowers his voice. “I just got frustrated and I’m sorry, okay? Please don’t leave. Let me make this up to you.”

“You don’t even know what the hell you’re sorry for!” You continue to raise your voice before storming up into the lobby, straight to the elevators.

“Yes I do!” He rushes into the elevator with you, and you tuck yourself into the corner. But of course, in a very typical Hongjoong manner, he cages you in, hands resting on the rails while his face barely ghosts yours. “I fucked up, and I didn’t mean to discredit your feelings. I want you to know that I don’t care about Tara. That shit is all in the past. It gets frustrating because I would never do anything to lose you, Y/N. I just need you to trust me. Why don’t you trust me?”

“Joong, I don’t get why you can’t just cut her off. She’s your ex for a reason. I don’t understand it. I just don’t feel comfortable with it, and I’m sorry—”

“I know, baby. If you want me to cut her off, I will. I wanna make up for this and prove it to you.” You let out a breath. “No one else matters to me.” Silence. You aren’t really sure what to say. What can you say? Was it wrong for you to ask him to cut her off?

If not, why do you feel guilty about it? Why do you feel so fucking wrong for doing that? For making it a ‘big deal,’ for voicing your uncomfortability?

“You didn’t have to come after me and miss the party.” You don’t really know what else to say. You’re tired and you’re over it, so you do what you do best in these scenarios: try to physically push him away from you and keep him at bay.

“Stop pushing me away. Baby, please.” He shakes his head and almost whines, cupping your face. “I don’t care about the party. I don’t care about any of them. Why can’t you trust me?” And it’s that stupid fucking look Hongjoong gives you that makes you melt, makes you weak in the knees. He looks at you in a way that reassures you, in a way that tells you how special you are; a way that says you’re mine and only mine.

And it gets you every single time.

You let out a shaky breath when his thumb caresses the surface, lips a few inches away from yours.

“Don’t push me away. I’m sorry, I’ll make this better. You can trust me.” He repeats. You don’t respond besides a simple nod, giving him leverage to press a chaste kiss to your lips as the elevator doors open.

Hongjoong is home to you, which is why you trust him to make it better, to keep you safe.

That night, Hongjoong takes you into the room and shows you his way of making up for it, of taking care of you, of showing you all that matters is you. You slip into the shower, eventually letting Joong join and take you inside. He carefully calculates every move, every kiss, every touch; making sure to whisper and mark your skin with his repeated apologies. And it doesn’t stop there, no. You get yourself ready for bed, throwing on one of Joong’s shirts before slipping under the covers. He shuts off the lights when he’s finished, getting in next to you. Innocent cuddles and kisses eventually turn into Joong taking you from behind; pounding into you while he pulls your hair and whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

No one else matters to me.

You’re perfect.

Made for me.

My good girl.

And you take it all, letting the love consume you all over again. Because for a while after this, things felt beautiful again. You felt like you were back in your honeymoon-cloud nine phase with Hongjoong— sharing laughs and jokes, holding each other close while kissing each other every chance you get. He’d make love to you like the last day on Earth was tomorrow, souls intertwining and never wanting to be apart from you.

Things were good, until they weren’t.

There comes a day when you realize he hasn’t actually cut Tara off, and your anxiety spikes again. There comes a day when all those shitty feelings return, and it makes you question if there was any meaning behind everything Hongjoong said, did.

You sat on Hongjoong’s bed, reading through a chapter of a book for class. He’s out in the hallway grabbing his clothes from the dryer when his phone dings a few times, your eyes shooting to the screen sitting on the nightstand. You used to think it was kinda nice that Hongjoong always set his text previews to show up no matter what. Maybe it was a weird way of showing you that he didn’t have anything to hide, maybe it was a way of showing you that you didn’t need to question anything.

Now, you’re not so sure how to feel about it.

tara: hey. is it okay if i swing by and hang out with you guys?

tara: my aunt passed, and i just want to be away from home.

You do feel a bit bad for her. Losing a loved one is never easy, and she is good friends with San and Mingi, too. But, where is Jisung? Where are her other friends? Surely she has other friends she can rely on, right? You can’t help but fix on the funny feeling and the anxiety that bubbles in your gut seeing her name— anything to do with her. You’re not sure what it is, but Tara unsettles you, and you know it’s for a reason. Your instincts are telling you so.

“Who is it?” You flash his phone his way, a small frown on your lips.

“So much for cutting her off, Hongjoong.”

“I’m not even planning to respond to her.”

“Not my point.”

“I know you aren’t getting mad at me over some unanswered texts. I haven’t even talked to Tara since that night.” He glares at you. But if he hadn’t talked to her since that night, what makes her think it’s okay to ask for something like this?

“Why would you tell me you’d cut her off if you weren’t actually planning on doing so? And why do you sound so mad about it?” You’re tired of doing this, going in circles, having to explain your feelings over and over again.

“Oh my god.” He huffs. “We’re really at this again?”

“Because you don’t get it. It just feels weird.”

“Mm, when I haven’t done anything.” He drops the basket onto the floor. “Since you wanna talk about ‘weird’ and bring this shit up again, what’s been going on with you and Wooyoung then?”

“Are you actually kidding me right now?” You scoff. “You’re not serious.”

“You know, I saw you that night of the party. The two of you dancing hella close. I’ve seen the way he is with you lately, too.”

“Wow.” You laugh pathetically because what is actually going on? Wooyoung had never been an issue, at least, Hongjoong has never vocalized it. Nor has Joong ever given you signs that he was becoming a problem. “You know we’re just close like that. It’s actually unbelievable that you’re comparing him to Tara right now.”

“Oh, bullshit! You expect me to believe that? That’s the shit that feels weird.” Hongjoong yells.

“Yes!” You match his tone. “Because we’ve been together for how long?! You know this. Why are you all of a sudden making this an issue? Wooyoung was never a problem—“

“To you, maybe.”

“And that’s my fault, how?! I can’t read your mind, Joong. You never told me you had issues about it.” You groan. “He’s just one of my best friends. I don’t know how else I’m supposed to prove that to you. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Then, what the hell was he doing being all up on you? Leaning into your ear like that. Holding you close. Too fucking close.”

“We’ve always been that way! This isn’t anything new, and you know there isn’t a meaning behind it!” You yell, but you’re quick to crawl back into your shell when Hongjoong tosses a dish into the sink harshly before walking away from the kitchen.

“Right.” He starts walking towards his bedroom and you follow behind. “It’s crazy how you make a big deal out of Tara when I keep her at a distance. I don’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, I make sure there’s clear boundaries.”

“That’s not the same, and you know it. Her being around is uncomfortable enough.”

“How is it different?”

“You’re kidding, right?” You cross your arms. “She wants to get back with you so fucking badly, Joong! How can you not see that? She doesn’t care about me, and you apparently don’t either!”

“Oh, I don’t? I cut her off like you asked me to even though there really wasn’t anything going on between us. Shit was fucking crazy to me, but I did it anyway.”

“What exactly does ‘cutting her off’ mean to you? Because she continues to call you and text you, asking you to be there for her when she has so many other people she can turn to. Why does it always have to be you saving the day? You just let it happen, too! You clearly would see her and let her visit when she needs you. You two aren’t together anymore!”

“So, how is this different from Wooyoung? Because every time something happens, you run to him. You ask for him all the time, you call and text him when you need someone. You choose him all the time.”

“No, I don’t! He’s not my ex-boyfriend, this is just how we are. I’ve known him for so long, he would never disrespect you. Why on earth would you ever think of us in that way? This is different because you and your ex have history. She obviously still loves you, and wants to continue feeling close to you. As soon as you’re vulnerable, she wants to swoop in and show you that she’s always been there. You don’t get it!”

“Fine, I don’t!” But Hongjoong does, he’s just matching your energy and the way you fire back makes him want to fire back even more. He yells and he slams his hand against the wall, making you flinch. He’s heated just as much as you are— it’s all in the heat of the moment. “If I ever asked you to cut Wooyoung off, would you?”

“No. I don’t have a reason to. That’s unfair and you know it.” He scoffs as he throws on his jacket and grabs his keys.

“Okay, whatever. Fuck this then.” He says, just as San and Mingi walk into the apartment— pausing mid-conversation at the chaos going on.

“That’s it?” You pause. “Hongjoong.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you, Y/N. I gave you what you wanted.”

“And I am too, I’ve been trying to tell you that you shouldn’t worry about Wooyoung.”

“And yet it still feels like you’d choose him over me if it ever came down to it!” His hand hits the wall and it causes you to step back.

“Woah, hold on. Hongjoong—'' Mingi cuts in when he hears Hongjoong yelling at you, also slightly appalled at the topic behind the argument.

“Why do I even have to choose?!” You begin to cry more, aggressively wiping at your tears. He gives you one last look before he’s heading towards his shoes. “Hongjoong.” You call for him. “Where are you going?” He slides into his shoes, still not sparing you a look. “Hongjoong!”

“For a drive.” Is all he says before he’s heading out and slamming the door in your face. Mingi sighs as he sets his things down and tries to race after Hongjoong, while San sits you down and throws an arm around you to console you.

“What happened?”

“He’s getting mad at me cause Tara texted him.” San sighs. “Started talking about Wooyoung.”

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry Y/N, let him cool down.” You don’t say anything because you’re sick of fighting and you’re sick of his friends, your friends, genuinely apologizing on his behalf. It should have never gotten this deep, and your friends shouldn’t have to be involved. Yet, here they are. “He’s being a hothead. I know how you feel, and you shouldn’t have to explain the situation with Wooyoung after all this time.”

“Sannie, I’m so tired.” You cry into your hands. You truly are tired. You feel exhausted from this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for months. You’re not sure if Hongjoong feels too comfortable, or if he’s just losing sight of who you are to him, what this relationship means to him. And that is an awful feeling. “I’m so done fighting with him.”

“I know.” He rubs your arm and gives you a gentle squeeze. “Hongjoong just needs to realize how lucky he is to have someone like you by his side. For real. You do everything for him and you’re always there for him. I know he’s appreciative but he just needs to do better.” He lets out a breath. “We’ll try to talk some sense into him. Why don’t you lie down and get some rest?” You shake your head.

“I’m gonna go home.”

“Want me to drive you?”

“I’m gonna call Woo.” He nods, letting you go to give you some space. “Thank you, Sannie.”

“Of course.” He gives you a small, half-hearted smile. He feels terrible. He truly wishes Hongjoong would stop being so mean sometimes. It’s true; he does have a temper but it’s unfair for him to unload that on you for every little thing, every little inconvenience. You had been nothing but good and patient. Understanding.

“Yo?” Wooyoung picks up as you pack up your things.

“Woo, are you free right now? Can you come get me from Hongjoong’s?”

“Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, you hang up the call and continue to pack your things. Hongjoong and Mingi haven’t returned, and you’re relieved you don’t have to go explaining yourself if he were to walk in at this moment. Wooyoung arrives sharply in 10 minutes, texting you to come outside. You bid San farewell and hug him tightly, telling him to let Hongjoong know you’ve gone home if he ever asks. He simply nods before watching you leave, releasing a deep sigh as he heads to his room.

The car ride is quiet simply because Wooyoung can tell you’re having a bad night. The thing with Wooyoung [which is why he’s your bestfriend] is that he knows when he just needs to hold space for you and let you be in your peace. He doesn’t ask any questions, he doesn’t hound you for attention. He just lets you be the entire ride home. It’s not until you start breaking down again that he finally feels ready to ask, especially because he hates seeing you this way.

“Y/N, what is it?” Wooyoung lets out a breath when he sees you breaking down in the passenger’s seat. “Come on, let’s get inside first. Okay?” He says, hand coming to rub your back. You don’t respond so Wooyoung takes it upon himself to step out first before coming to your aid on the passenger’s side. He crouches to your level and unbuckles the seatbelt, wiping your tears away before getting you to walk to the apartment. He heads to the kitchen to grab you some water while you change and get into bed.

Wooyoung hears you quietly sniffling and crying to yourself, and he knows he can’t just leave you here like this. So, he places the water down, slips into your bed and holds you, telling you that things will be okay. To anyone, this probably would’ve looked incredibly wrong, and Hongjoong probably would’ve beaten his ass if he knew. But he doesn’t care; because Wooyoung will always do anything for you, especially after all the times you’ve dropped everything to be there for him without asking for shit in return. He cherishes you as his bestfriend and he will always put you first—

That goes to say, Wooyoung would never disrespect Hongjoong. He knows better than that, and if Hongjoong had a problem with him, he’d gladly talk it out and reassure him. Well, he’d at least hope Hongjoong was grown enough to do that.

But if not, then he thinks that's his own damn problem and his own damn fault for assuming and putting shit into his own head. Wooyoung has known you for so long that things like this— platonically laying in bed, consoling and being there for each other— comes so naturally. It doesn’t mean he’s trying to make a move on you [god, no], everyone knows that.

Except Hongjoong, I guess. It’s funny how he tries to flip the script on you when he knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s kinda stupid, Wooyoung thinks. He should really know better after dating you for over a year at this point. He should really know better, period.

Right now though, you need him and that’s what he’s here for. He continues to quietly shush you and ease you to sleep, phone constantly vibrating and going off on the table. It’s not until he hears your soft snores that he carefully moves to grab your phone and attempt to turn it off, eyes glancing over Hongjoong’s texts and missed call notifications.

hongjoong: where are you?

hongjoong: y/n

hongjoong: assuming you’re with wooyoung

hongjoong: wow really, y/n? after tonight, too? of course you’d run straight to wooyoung

hongjoong: fuck this, whatever

Wooyoung scoffs to himself a bit, the audacity of Hongjoong for being so fucking upset over nothing. Don’t get him wrong. Wooyoung loves seeing you happy. It’s all he wants. And he loved Hongjoong for you. He really did. He thought you two were perfect and actually made for each other.

But, over time, he’s starting to question his thoughts, if he still stands in the same place he did a year ago. Because all this crying, this back and forth, nights of having to come save you; he sees you slowly changing. The light in your eyes dimming. Life slowly being sucked out of you. You aren’t the same bright, fun, loud Y/N you used to be and Wooyoung hates it when he really thinks about it. As the cherry on top [which Wooyoung also hates to admit], everything is becoming way too unhealthy. It’s the way that Hongjoong’s temper gets the best of him, the way all of your friends get involved one way or another. The way this will probably blow over tomorrow, and you and Hongjoong will go about your day like nothing happened.

What’s gonna be left of this?

What’s gonna be left of you?

Wooyoung feels his own phone vibrate, and it’s a text from Yunho. Granted, he kinda saw this coming. But again, he hates that this is what your relationship has become.

yunho: is y/n with you? hongjoong’s wondering where she’s at

wooyoung: where the fuck else would she be?

wooyoung: she’s at home, sleeping

wooyoung: had to pick her up cause she called crying after their argument

yunho: they fought again? over what?

wooyoung: idk but reading his texts, it sounds like part of it was about me

yunho: wtf why? i dont get it?

wooyoung: you and me both

yunho: alright well ill let him know shes safe and asleep. text me if u need me

wooyoung: thanks

wooyoung: also, tell him he can ask me directly next time. i’m not hiding anything, nor is y/n. bold of him to assume shit

He lets out a hefty sigh before setting his phone aside and slipping deeper into your covers, turning onto his side to give you some space.

When the following morning comes, Wooyoung wakes up to your hand on his arm as you reach over to grab your phone. He groans a bit, tugging on the sheets while you sit up and read through Hongjoong’s texts from last night.

“Fucking idiot.” He hears you mutter. As much as he wants to sleep in a little more, he can’t help but worry about you. So, he turns over and sees your fingers pinching at your bottom lip while you continue to read the texts— obvious the tears are building up the more that you do.

“Y/N, what the hell did you guys fight about last night?”

“It was so stupid.”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before.” You look at him and drop your phone, head resting back against the headboard.

“It started because Tara texted him asking if she could swing by for some company since her aunt passed. I got mad at him for it because I swear to god, she’s trying so hard to get back with him and he just lets it happen. I know he’d continue to help her and be there for her even though she has other friends she can rely on. Why does it have to be Hongjoong every fucking time?” You groan, tears already streaming down your cheeks. “And then he started attacking me about you, a-and—” You cry. “It’s unfair. It’s not the same, I don’t know why he’s suddenly making an issue about us or whatever, but it’s not the same and I thought he knew that. He was making me choose, saying I’d probably choose you at the end of the day and that I—”

“What a piece of shit.” Wooyoung says before sitting up and pulling you into a hug. “Nah, I get it. You don’t have to explain the rest.”

“It’s so stupid. Why would he say that when he knows it’s not the same? Tara’s his ex-girlfriend, why doesn’t he see it the way I do?”

“Because he knows he’s wrong and he doesn’t wanna admit it, Y/N. He’s looking for other things to pick at and blame. Deflecting.”

“I’m so done with him getting mad at me like this. I asked him to cut her off for a reason.” You pull away from him and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I asked him to cut her off because she clearly didn’t give a fuck about me or our relationship. That girl knows no boundaries. She makes me feel anxious and I fucking hate it.”

“And you were right to do so.” You sigh.

“I feel like I’m never winning with him anymore.” You say quietly, defeatedly. “It just never feels like enough.”

“Don’t say shit like that. You’re doing more than enough, he’s just being dumb.” He sighs. “Are you going to talk to him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe later. I just need a moment to myself, I guess.”

“Take your time with it. Talk to him when you’re ready. Don’t let him determine that for you.”

“I know. Thanks for last night.” He gives you a small smile.

“I got you, always. And for the record, I know you’d choose me in the end.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle as you wipe at the stragglers running down your cheeks before pushing him out of your bed.

“Ow.” He pouts and whines. “Why would you hurt me?”

“I need to shower.”

“You should.” You smack him upside the head when you finally stand from your bed and grab a set of new clothes.

“Are you at least feeling better?”

“Kinda? Sleep did me well for sure.”

“It’s cause of me.”

“Wooyoung, I will—” He bites you on the shoulder with a loud laugh, causing you to yell and curse at him this early in the morning. Luckily, your roommate wasn’t home and was off at her internship. But goodness, does your bestfriend drives you nuts. Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.

Once Wooyoung leaves, you take a bit more time just to be in your own peace. You deep clean your room and the rest of the apartment, while playing some soft music in the background. Hongjoong’s call is what interrupts the music coming through your bluetooth speakers, sighing as you disconnect it and pick up the call. He asks if he can come over and talk, and you agree to let him swing by. You aren’t feeling 100% but you are feeling better enough to try and talk to him.

It doesn’t take more than 15 minutes before Hongjoong is walking through your door, kicking off his shoes and setting his wallet and keys off to the side of the dining table. He finds you sorting through some extra prints you’ve kept hidden in your desk drawer, your back turned to him even as he walks in and greets you.

“Hey.” Is all he says, sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Hi.” You turn to him, setting the prints aside.

“Hanging up more?”

“I don’t know yet. I bought these awhile ago and they’ve been sitting in my drawer. I need to figure out how I wanna put them up.” He leans back on his hands and nods. Even throughout all the stupid shit you and Hongjoong have been fighting about, you still find him to be the most handsome, the most charming; it truly makes your heart flutter every time you see him. He’s in a plain white tee and sweats, hair freshly washed and still a bit damp. The tattoo on his arm is poking out from underneath his sleeve and it drives you insane how attractive your boyfriend is.

“Mm.” He hums. “Did you sleep well?”

“Slept well enough.” You look at him. “What about you?”

“I slept alright. Was worried about where you were at.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else but my place, Joong. You know that.”

“With Wooyoung?” You look at him and let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you feel the anger within you grow again.

“Look, if you came here to argue some more, I don’t—”

“I’m not here to argue. I asked a simple question, Y/N.”

“Yes, he was here. But I don’t see why that would be an issue compared to Tara asking to come over.” He licks his lips, but he doesn’t say anything. Just nods.

“She just needs her friends.”

“So do I, but you don’t see me leaning on my ex for that kind of company.”

“We were good friends before we even dated.”

“But you dated, and that’s the shit she’s holding onto. As with anybody.” You roll your eyes. “I guess you did come here to argue.” He shakes his head.

“No. Forget it, I’m sorry.” Is all he says.

“Sorry for what?” You hate that you always have to ask him this because lately, it’s been feeling like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. Like he’s just apologizing to apologize and move past it. “You do understand where I’m coming from, right? Tara’s your ex-girlfriend and I asked you to cut her off for a reason. Wooyoung and I have been bestfriends for years, and we’ve never been anything more than that. We’re just used to being there for each other and having each other’s backs. It’s natural for us. It doesn’t always have to have a hidden meaning, Hongjoong. Don’t make me choose because it’s not the same thing. Why would you do that? Why would you get upset at me for assuming when you’re doing the same thing about my bestfriend?”

“I hear you. I truthfully don’t wanna fight about this anymore.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I cut her off, alright? Told her she couldn’t do that and expect me to be there for her anymore.” He lets out a heavy sigh as if it was a chore to do, as if he didn’t want to but had no choice.

“Hm.” You hum. It’s not that you don’t trust him, you just don’t trust her. But part of you has also begun to wonder if you could truly be comfortable with his responses— if you could sit back and relax, take it for what it is. It’s complicated. Too complicated for something that started off so simple and beautiful. So beautifully simple.

“Baby.” He calls you as he stands. “Can you come here, please? Look at me.”

“Hongjoong, I just don’t know what to say.” He holds you by the waist, hand on the small of your back while he kisses your forehead, temple.

“Trust me.” He slightly frowns. “I need you to trust me because I would never do anything to lose you, remember? Baby, nothing else matters.”

“Then trust me. Wooyoung would never disrespect you like that and I thought you knew that.” He nods.

“Yeah, I know. I was just upset.” He kisses you on the lips. “I’ll do better.”

And since that moment, Hongjoong was better. Really better. The feelings you felt during the beginning of your relationship with Hongjoong felt like they’ve returned. Hongjoong was good, so, so good to you— it was easy to trust him again and feel safe. He worked on building a safer space for you after the back and forth about Tara, making you feel like he truly understood you and wanted this relationship to flourish like it used to. He cared about you, and he loved you.

Little did you know that this would all come crumbling down in the future. All of it.

The hope that this would eventually pass, that it was just a bump in the road, dwindled when Hongjoong had reverted to his old ways—

You should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

But it breaks you, constantly breaks you, because at this point, you’re convinced it’ll never change.

Not anymore.

“Wooyoung’s graduation party is that weekend. He had to push it out so his family could travel over.” You say, washing your bowl in the sink before plopping back down on the couch with him.

“So you’re not gonna come with me to Jisung’s graduation?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Can’t you at least stop by then go to Wooyoung’s?”

“No, because I told his parents I’d help get everything together, Joong.” You furrow your brows because you already know he’s angry, even though this has absolutely nothing to do with him.

“Alright.” Is all he says, continue to scroll through his phone.

“You’re not mad, are you?”

“I mean, I just wanted you to come along for a bit. I don’t understand why can’t do that, but I guess it’s cause of Wooyoung.” He looks at you again. “I should’ve expected that.”

“Hongjoong.” You call his name with a certain tone, one that says you don’t wanna revisit this so-called issue again.

“What, am I wrong?” He chuckles, but there’s an obvious drip of anger, of venom, in it. “Do you, Y/N.”

“Why are you being like that? I thought you would’ve understood by now.”

“Yeah, I have. It was always going to be Wooyoung anyway, so what the fuck is the point?”

“Why are we back here again? Why do I have to keep explaining myself to you? It’s not that I don’t wanna go to Jisung’s, I just promised Wooyoung and his parents I’d be there.”

“I’m sure an hour or so wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh my god.” You run your hands through your hair and get up from the couch, heading into his room. “I know that’s not what you’re really trying to get at.”

“It’s true though, right? You’re just choosing Wooyoung like you always do. You’re right, maybe I should just stop because in the end it doesn’t matter. I always put you first, I do everything for you and I always take you into consideration. Everything is about you, and you never do the same—”

“I never do the same?!” You match his tone. The disbelief running through you is unbearable. You’re just not sure how Hongjoong has the audacity to say something like that when you’re always thinking about him and putting your own feelings aside to keep him happy.

But you would never hang that over his head like he does with you.

“You know that’s not true! I appreciate everything you do for me, but you don’t get to hang it over my head like that because I would never do that to you. I would never make you feel guilty about the things I do for you, or make you feel like you’re an obligation.”

“You make me feel that way all the time!” He yells. “You don’t even realize how much you do.”

“Oh, because of Tara? So sorry that was such a fucking tragedy for you!” He groans loudly before hitting the wall.

“For real, fuck this. Count me out of your graduation, too. I’m not doing this shit.”

“Hongjoong, what the fuck is your problem? My own graduation?”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Y/N! What the fuck is the point!” He repeats. The words cut through you like a sharp knife because damn, you weren’t expecting that out of this.

“Okay, you know what, Joong. I’m not gonna keep arguing about this with you. Do whatever the hell you want, call me selfish, whatever. I made a promise to my bestfriend and his family and I’m not going back on my word.” You pack up your things and head out the door, not taking one look at him.

“Yeah, whatever. Done with this bullshit.” He slams his room door, causing the walls to shake.

You cried when you got home that evening, but you weren’t crying because of the shit he said, the things he pulled, no. You were crying because you were exhausted and you felt like you had nothing left in you anymore. You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting back, you didn’t have the energy to explain yourself. You shouldn’t have to, and you don’t want to.

Was it wrong to turn down Jisung’s graduation for your bestfriend?

When you said you had no energy, you truly meant it, and Hongjoong clearly did, too. The both of you hadn’t texted or called, let alone seen each other in those two weeks. You weren’t really sure what Hongjoong was up to, but you couldn’t think about much while wrapping up senior year and getting ready for graduation around the corner. Maybe the break was needed, maybe you two really needed the space.

You honestly would’ve thought this was the end of you two.

He manages to prove you and everyone wrong again when he shows up to your graduation, with a big bouquet in hand. Wooyoung nudges you when he catches him across the street, walking over with San, Mingi, Jisung and a few other of their guy friends [who are probably here for Yunho]. He’s dressed in a dark grey short-sleeve dress shirt that’s loosely tucked into his black slacks with black boots. Your parents catch him on their way over to the field to get to their seats, pulling him into a tight hug before pointing over at you, Wooyoung, Ara and Yunho. Your parents [or his] never really knew the extent of your fights, which is why everything seems so fine and dandy in their eyes. Rose-tinted glasses, glitter and gold.

“Congrats!” San yells, hugging all of you before Mingi and the rest make their way around the group.

“You’re here.” You look at him with a slight fondness in your eyes because even though the past weeks have been a mess, Hongjoong still makes you weak. He gives you a tiny smile before pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I missed you. I’m sorry.” He mumbles against your temple before giving you a kiss. “Congrats, my pretty girl.” He tilts your chin up to press a kiss against your lips.

“Thank you, Joong.” He gives you another chaste kiss to the temple before they bid their farewells and rush to the field, the commencement ceremony scheduled to start in a few minutes.

It was a hot day, but nonetheless, a happy day. You felt happy finally getting through college and graduation with your bestfriends alongside of you. Your parents and Hongjoong stand near the stage to snap photos of you as you walk across and grab your diploma, the crowd roaring in celebration. After the ceremony, you, your friends, their families and loved ones all take hours to take photos together before agreeing to eat at a nearby restaurant together for a small, but intimate way to close the day. You would have never known that things had gone awry with you and Hongjoong with the way he lovingly held you, kissed you, kept you close. Though deep down, it was still hurtful to know that this wouldn’t last. That you’d have to accept the fact that this was only temporary.

Hongjoong’s graduation followed the next weekend, and you ended up heading to Jisung’s for a bit before helping with Wooyoung’s party. Wooyoung didn’t really like the idea, and you had apologized for going back on your promise of sticking with him throughout the entire party. But it happened anyway, even if Hongjoong dropped you off to head to Jisung’s party without you.

As long as you were okay, as long as you had stopped crying and feeling so shitty, Wooyoung was okay. Even though he really couldn’t stand what this had become.

But if Wooyoung could save your world from crumbling just a little bit longer, he’ll do that.

Fuck the rest.

—CURRENT

“My birthday baby.” Hongjoong squeezes at your hips before biting onto his bottom lip, eyes ogling your dress and how it hugs you in all the right places, fits perfectly over your curves.

“Hi.” You smile up at him, hands lazily hanging around his neck.

“You’re so beautiful, love.” He says softly, kissing the tip of your nose before moving down to your lips. Jaw. Neck. You giggle in his grip, gently pushing him back by the chest. “I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.” You smile lovingly at him.

“Ready to go? I think everyone’s waiting for the birthday girl to arrive.” You laugh and nod, letting him lead the way to his car.

You and Hongjoong had a good talk about your relationship and where things stood, being able to communicate properly about your needs, wants, giving each other space and letting the other be their own person. There was a tiny conversation about his current status with Tara, and he vaguely told you that they were back to being friends but he swore up and down that it was just.. that. He told you honestly that he wasn’t sure why he had to cut her off when there wasn’t anything going on between them, and that he felt like he didn’t need to. That you needed to trust him and he’d have no problem reassuring you.

So, that was it. And it worked well. It was a bit of adjustment at first, but you knew giving Hongjoong the space he needed was crucial— just as it was for you. You had stopped coming along to every single party or hangout back at home, only seeing his parents from time to time unless they visited Joong at his apartment. It was the same with your family; yet again, none of them knowing what kind of rollercoaster had gone on in your relationship during the past two years.

They just took it as you two evolving in your relationship, keeping things healthy. Alive.

They barely knew about all the nights you cried, you yelled, breaking dishes and cups; having Wooyoung come and save you while Hongjoong stormed off.

You suppose it’s better that way. In the end, you two were still growing and learning. Maybe.

You ended up renting a small studio in the heart of the city after snagging a job right after graduation. Hongjoong and San moved into another place of their own, while Mingi moved back home to help his family and work for their company while he continued his job search. Wooyoung also lived in the heart of the city, renting an in-law while he worked his part-time job and internship at a bigger company. Everything seemed to be going well for everyone, and you couldn’t have asked for more at this point. It seemed too good at one point, but you weren’t going to dwell on it; taking everything for what it is.

The club you decided to celebrate your birthday at is packed with people, but you’re able to easily slip in since Wooyoung, Hongjoong and the rest of your friends chipped in for a VIP table. The DJ was already blasting his music, while you and your friends were off to a quick start with shots. It didn’t take long before you were drunk and dancing the night away with everyone, with Hongjoong— sharing cute, affectionate moments in between. It’s not until he steps away with San to grab another drink at the bar that Mingi swoops you away and playfully dances around with you for a bit; this being the very moment when everything changed.

When your world came crumbling down in one quick, swift motion.

“Dude, to be honest.” Mingi lazily keeps his arm around your shoulder while leaning in towards your ear. “I didn’t know if you and Hongjoong would actually make it through.”

“We had our rough patches, Mangi. I wasn’t sure what things would look like either, but we’re here.” You smile at him and he laughs.

“I know, I know. It’s just.. he had been with Tara a lot. It was confusing.” You furrow your brows at him. “But, I’m glad you two are okay and back to being good. Like.. I’m glad he’s with you. I know he can be dumb but I’m glad it’s you. You’re good for him, sometimes I don’t think he realizes it.” You’re a little appalled at the stuff coming out of Mingi’s mouth, and half of you wants to blame it all on the alcohol. Though, you know you can’t because where on earth would Mingi come up with this? Shit doesn’t just form out of thin air.

“Uh, yeah. I hope so.” Is all you respond with before he pinches your cheek and leaves.

“There she is.” Hongjoong finds you in the crowd, another glass in his hand. “Taste this, it’s so good.” You sip on the drink and nod in approval.

“Thanks, babe.” He gives you a look.

“You okay, baby girl?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Have you seen Ara? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His tilts your chin up.

“Yeah, I just really need to pee and freshen up.” He slowly nods.

“She’s with San over there.” He points behind you, where you find Ara and San flirting around like they always do. “Seems kinda busy though? I can wait for you outside the bathroom.”

“No Joong, it’s fine. I’ll be alright. I’ll be quick.” You give him a small smile, and he finally lets up with a quick kiss to your forehead and a quick ass-grab. You interrupt San and Ara, letting them know you need her to accompany you to the bathroom. She agrees, linking her arm with yours, but just like Wooyoung, she can tell something else is wrong. Who knows, maybe Hongjoong is onto you too, but you could care less because you don’t know how to confront him about this.

Nor do you want to on your birthday.

“My birthday girl! Are you drunk enough? Why do you look so sober?”

“It’s nothing.” She looks at you and holds you close to her side. “I just need some space.” Quite frankly, you just need her company more than anything. You just need somebody other than Hongjoong.

“Why? Did something happen with Hongjoong?”

“Mm, no.” You lie. You lie to her, you lie to yourself. You lie and you lie in hopes that it’ll ease the pain slowly seeping into your body, in hopes it’ll somehow make things easier for you to accept the harsh reality of your relationship.

Of your home.

“You sure? Do you wanna sneak out of here and go back to my place? You can tell me anything, you know that, right?” You nod. “Or do you want me to get Woo?”

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m just gonna freshen up and head back out there. Thanks for coming with me.” She smiles and squeezes your arm as you two move to the front of the bathroom line.

“Of course, my love!” She chuckles. “I’m glad you did because I didn’t realize how badly I needed to pee.” You laugh, resting your head against hers until a stall opens up for you two to squeeze in and share.

The rest of the night, you’re distancing yourself from Hongjoong enough so that you can still enjoy the night, but not keep him too close. It’s fucking painful to hear Mingi’s words repeatedly in your head, and even though you don’t have concrete evidence to back it up, you already know it’s not needed. You just know, and that is the worst feeling. And this— this is the same gut-wrenching anxiety that you’ve always felt every time she was around, every time you saw her name randomly pop up. It’s the same feeling in your gut, the same feeling that was telling you something was wrong,

Hongjoong doesn’t catch onto anything else, or at least, he doesn’t question you. Instead he has his hand on your thigh and showers you with kisses, oblivious to the fact that Mingi might have just knocked over and spilled his jar of secrets. The apartment is quiet since San is out grabbing food with a few others, giving Hongjoong leverage to kiss you in the living room— his urge, his need, evident through his touch, the deepening of the kiss, Hongjoong pushing himself up against you. But you break the kiss with a simple [but sad] smile, encouraging him to go wash up so you can follow. He laughs and whines a bit before he’s finally grabbing clothes and heading for the bathroom. You’re able to release the breath you’ve been holding, even though your chest hurts and you’re trying your best to not let this completely consume you.

The universe has different plans. Maybe, just maybe, it had been time for things to unravel.

A ding comes from Hongjoong’s phone, and you can’t help but glance at the screen. It’s Tara, but you’re having to unlock his phone to view the preview this time. You nervously navigate to his text thread with her, finding that the entire thread is choppy— big gaps in between dates, some closer than others. But, your eyes land on the first text in the thread and you instantly feel sick to your stomach.

It’s a text from about a year ago, during that summer when you spent with Hongjoong, with his family. The summer you couldn’t spend a second away from him because all you wanted was Hongjoong, all you wanted was to kiss him, cuddle him, keep him close.

The summer he bought you your favorite breakfast bagel and smoothie before dropping you off to go ‘home.’

hongjoong: do you wanna come over and stay the night at the apartment?

tara: yeah! should i leave soon?

hongjoong: yeah im just gonna be here

tara: i’ll be on my way!

tara: joongie i’m outside

hongjoong: meet you at the door in a sec

You feel your hands shaking the more you go through the thread, eyes welling up with tears as the realization hits and settles.

Hongjoong made you trust him, made you believe in everything he said. You put your faith in all his actions, thinking he was truly doing his best to make up for everything he’s done and said.

All of that going to waste.

hongjoong: you home? can i stop by and say hi?

tara: yup!

There is a huge gap after he claimed he so-called cut her off, but it doesn’t mean that the thread ends. There are other texts between them asking if the other is going to be at so and so’s house, or if the other is going to be at so and so’s party. There’s texts of Hongjoong asking if he can pop by and say hi at her place before there’s another big gap and Tara’s texting to ask if she can see him [spoiler: he says yes].

tara: are you going to channie’s?

hongjoong: yeah, are you?

tara: i’m not sure, i wasn’t really feeling it

hongjoong: go 😞

tara: lol why the sad face, isn’t your girlfriend coming?

hongjoong: nah shes not..

tara: ohhh okay, maybe then!

hongjoong: just go, wanna see you ☹️

You don’t even read the recent text because you simply can’t. You remember every single time he mentioned those kick-its, those parties, but not once did you ever think he’d mainly go to see Tara and vice versa. You toss the phone aside and begin to pack your things, fitting them in the bag you came with— not even worrying about how you can haul the rest out right now.

“Girl, I just got home from dropping Ara off. Please don’t tell me I have to slip back into my shit and—”

“Can you meet me at my place? Please.”

“Oh. Shit, yeah, of course. I’m already on my way.” He says, picking up on the shakiness in your voice. Hongjoong is still in the shower and you’re grateful you chose to drive to his place so that you can easily slip out and leave. You’re very much sober and at your breaking point; all you can think about is getting away as soon as possible.

Because the moment you step through your door, you collapse to the floor and start crying. Crying about all the fights, crying about all the times you let up and let Hongjoong get his way. Crying about all the times you let every little feeling, every little detail, brush over your head. Crying about how much you trusted him, loved him.

“Shit, Y/N. What the fuck?” Wooyoung immediately drops to the floor, arms thrown over you as he shushes you and tries to calm you down. He has never heard you cry this hard, has never heard you long for air this badly in between cries. It kills him and he’s not even sure how he can help you right now. And that for him is a first.

When you’re able to breathe a bit, you let everything out on the table. You tell Wooyoung what Mingi said, you tell him about the texts, you tell him about all these instances that you brushed over and didn’t think much of— when in fact, you should’ve stuck to your gut feeling and questioned everything. When you should’ve pressed harder, when you shouldn’t have trusted him so easily. And the realization hits you again because fuck, it is so painful to know that the person you loved for two years hadn’t really been there for you. That he was physically there, but his heart, his soul, wasn’t entirely yours. Probably wasn’t even yours to begin with. And you are so, so stupid for thinking Hongjoong was over her.

Maybe you were just the excuse.

The rebound.

The one he needed for his own selfish reasons.

It was never about you.

And Wooyoung continues to hold you and rock you, because there’s nothing like finding out that the person you invested in didn’t do the same back. There’s nothing like finding out the time you spent on someone, the amount of vulnerability, trust, emotion that came with loving someone for two years, had meant nothing. Wooyoung could murder Hongjoong right now, but that’s the least of his worries because Hongjoong isn’t crying his fucking heart out on a studio floor.

You are.

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You mumble into his chest. “I don’t know why I wasn’t enough, Woo. How could he just do that to me? I meant nothing to him—”

“Y/N, don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again. You hear me? This was not your fault. You gave everything your all to him because you were an amazing girlfriend. He fucked up, and he fucked up big time. This is all him.” Your broken sobs continue to echo in your studio, your phone now constantly going off from Hongjoong’s texts and calls. When he unlocked his phone to text you, he noticed Tara’s thread open. So he panics, and he panics.

Calling, texting. Almost ready to jump in his car and explain this even though he can’t.

But Wooyoung shuts off your phone and locks the door, telling Yunho, San and Mingi to tell Hongjoong to back the hell up. That he doesn’t want him near you, and that Hongjoong would know better than to confront the both of you right now.

It all feels like a blur, like white noise; static.

2 years of nothing.

Home to him might’ve meant so many different things; people, places, feelings. But to you, home was Hongjoong. Hongjoong has always been a home to you, everything about home. A home wasn’t a home without him.

But tonight, home looked a little different. Home looks like the empty bed you’re staring at, the dark room, the stillness of your surroundings even as Wooyoung sleeps on the couch. Tonight, home felt a little different, especially when you cry and feel your heart shatter to a million pieces looking at the cold, empty space next to you in bed, Hongjoong’s clothes from your closet tossed all over the place, ripped pictures across your desk that Wooyoung had to snatch out of your grip.

Because did you deserve this? All of this?

It was never about you.

Home was meant to be you and Hongjoong, but all the significant cracks in the relationship that lead to this, the one unfortunate blow that completely destroys you— every bit of you, everything you know, all the love that you’ve had.

Now, there is nothing left of you.

Nothing left of this home you built.

—a/n: ty for sitting through this very personal piece of mine; a reminder that you are beautiful and so, so deserving of the best love and happiness. ♡

—taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @hyukssunflower @everyonewooeverywhere @mcsalterego @persphonesorchid

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cheollipop · 4 months

Text

⚜ 𝙤𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣

navi | taglist

pairing: choi san x fem!reader

w.c.: 6.5k

genre: mafia au, smut, mutual pining, some fluff, tiny bit of angst, some dark themes, slightly ambiguous ending

In a city where the mere whisper of his name sent shivers of terror through its core, Choi San's barbarous reputation proved powerless to dissuade you from delving deeper, the glint in the feline eyes cast upon you exposing a sliver tenderness hidden beneath the façade of bloodlust.

⚜ warnings: mentioned death/murder (no one significant), insensitivity from all major characters to said murder, san is lowkey psychotic, and an asshole, reader is a badass bitch, gun play (kinda?), service/soft dom!san, bratty!reader, unprotected sex (👎), kinda public sex, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, creampie, begging, praise, some cockwarming, san gets whiny, he is whipped your honour, not your typical mafia boss ehehe, nicknames (baby, darling; sannie), I believe that's it. ^^

⚜ A/N: this is entirely self-indulgent. who doesn't want a psychotic mafia boss obsessing over their very being? happy reading! ^_^

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Another day dragging on for far too long, tedious — incompetent employees getting paid to induce headaches rather than doing their jobs, new clients unaware of who they’d gotten themselves involved with, augmenting the torturous panging against San’s skull. His eyebrow twitched, a bead of sweat hanging onto the thick hairs, another trailing down the ink decorating his slick chest. He’d thought a late-night rendezvous would silence the ringing in his head, but the cheap perfume, the bright lipstick, the obnoxious, high-pitched tone of her voice only amplified it. And yet, the woman now laid beneath him, his fingers digging into one of her tits while pornographic moans rolled off her tongue. With her head thrown back, she missed the grimace painting San’s features, but his hips were undeterred, continuing their ruthless rhythm while her ringing voice pierced through his eardrums. He just needed release, even if it were aided by a woman he had not a lick of interest in.

The door cracked open, a bleached head of hair peeking into the hotel room before his tall frame followed to stand in the doorway. San didn’t stop, simply shutting his eyes to drown out his surroundings and the pain shooting through his head.

“We’ve got trouble, boss,” the gravelly tone dragged San’s attention away from the distractions he attempted to draw up in his mind, eyes cracking open with an irked exhale.

“Important enough for you to interrupt me?” he spat, his thrusts now pointed in aggravation.

The man’s gulp masked under the continuous moans, he averted his gaze off the woman’s spread legs to explain, “a fight broke out in our Seoul location.”

San’s rhythm faltered, an unnoticeable hitch, but enough to stir up images of a familiar face, sly grin and confident walk followed by the sweet scent of vanilla and cheap tobacco. A subtle wink as you replaced the drinks his men had ordered for him with ones that would spare him the added flush, ears and chest tinted a dusty pink while he fought off the heaviness weighing down his eyelids. Sultry voice and swaying hips, the memory of fleeting touches and fluttering eyelashes sent urgent waves of heat scorching through San’s body, unwanted, vivid images of your haunting form flashing in his mind before he could stop them. But he pushed them away, prominent vein trailing down his forehead as he fought off the unrelieved headache, slapping a palm over smudged, red-tinted lips to muffle the agitating sound.

“Is that all, Mingi-ya?” he moved his gaze to the man at his side without twisting his head, watching as he straightened up at the sudden eye-contact.

“We’ve got casualties, Sir,” Mingi added, drawing a frustrated sigh out of San.

Pistoning his hips once, twice more, he pulled out, swiping his saliva-coated palm over the woman’s trembling thigh before finding his footing over the carpeted floor. He tossed the condom into some random corner, tucking himself back into his pants before snatching the luxury coat dangling from Mingi’s hand, the taller man’s eyes flitting to the side to avoid ogling at all the exposed skin. Just as they were about to take their leave, manicured fingers grasped San’s sleeve, arms drawn closer to her body to cram her breasts together in an act of seduction, bedroom eyes peering up at the tattooed man.

“Are you just going to leave me here like this?”

San didn’t hide his grimace, “it’s late, go home,” he retrieved his coat, tugging his arm away rougher than intended to make his way to the room’s exit. He paused at the doorway, turning his head slightly to address the dejected woman abandoned on the lush, silk bedsheets, “and call your husband back, he must be worried sick.”

He didn’t wait for a response, walking into the hallway to meet with two more guards, Mingi following closely behind. “Jongho, you’re coming with me,” he addressed the broader of the two, then turned to the other, “and you,” he angled his chin towards the door left ajar, “get rid of her.”

Walking past the swung-open door resting against the frame with broken hinges, glass shards cracking underneath heavyset boots, San took in the scattered bodies splayed out over the wooden floor. He grimaced, thousands of dollars’ worth of imported liquor pooling under shattered bottles, blending into a concoction reeking of alcohol poisoning. Bullets lodged into the polished bar reflected the orange hue in which the room basked in, stools broken and thrown into the walls and windows, splintered pieces of wood lying amongst the lifeless figures scattered over the floorboards.

“What a mess,” Mingi muttered, taking in the scene with repugnance unhidden in his expression.

“Looks exactly like something the both of you would do,” San’s retort was instant, “wasn’t it just last week, Jongho?”

His tone was void of any judgement, simply recalling his men’s afternoon endeavors, and yet, Jongho’s ears flashed red as he stuttered through a flustered response, reaffirming San’s memory of the incident. His eyes shot a glare up at the taller man as soon as San looked away, “just keep your mouth shut, Mingi-ya,” he elbowed his side, unappreciative of Mingi’s attempts at earning him another lecture about the improper use of his gun.

While the two bickered wordlessly, pinching and shoving the other’s side, San walked further into the bar, looking around for another sign of life while gnawing at his bottom lip, evidence of his night-long rendezvous trickling down his temples in salty beads of sweat.

“Where’s our staff?” his voice cut through the silence, as well as the guards’ banter, the two straightening up to address his inquiry.

“Changbin called it in, ‘said most were okay but a few got caught in the crossfire,” Mingi spoke, tone steady and hooded eyes focused on San, “they’ve all left already, I believe.”

“You believe?” Narrowing his eyes at the two men, he snarled before huffing in umbrage. “I don’t pay you to fucking believe.” It wasn’t Mingi’s doing, he knew, but he’d rather berate the two men before him than admit to the anxiety crawling up his chest, blocking his airway with a lump large enough to restrict his breathing. “Did he say anything about—” he attempted to maintain the resonance in which he spoke in, clearing his throat before proceeding, “what about—”

“—Looking for me?”

A sharp turn to his side was all it took to ease the tension stiffening his shoulders, a deep breath escaping his lungs when his eyes settled on you: hand on your hip while leaning you weight onto one leg, the corners of your glossy lips upturned into a smile that sent his heart racing.

“Y/n,” he sighed, rotating his body to face yours, arms limp at his sides while his features softened at the mere sight of you before him. Choi San with his guard down was a luxury not many could revel in.

“What’s with your face? Don’t tell me you were worried about me?” you teased, swaying your hips as you took a few steps towards his broad form, only a few inches separating your bodies where you were stood now.

Close enough to run a hand over the hair covering the side of your head, San’s lips curled into a playful smirk, “oh baby, I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hummed pleasantly at the gentle fingers gliding over your scalp, teeth digging into your bottom lip before releasing to purr back a response, “very much so.”

The aroma of cheap cigarettes followed you, laced with hints of vanilla and caramel, the specs of ash dusting the sunken collar of your top exposing the smoke break you’d taken while chaos unfolded during your late shift.

The bullets lodged into wood glimmered in his peripheral, and his amusement dwindled as he pushed through the intoxicating haze your proximity cast upon his senses. Eyebrows furrowed, his gaze traveled over your body while firm hands ran over your sides and waist, peering over your shoulder and twisting you in front of him while he questioned, “fuck, are you hurt?”

To his surprise, you exhaled a breathy laugh, mischief glinting in your irises, “hurt?” The coyness in your tone didn’t go unnoticed, but the arm reaching behind you did, and before he could react, you had San at your mercy with the nose of your pistol dug into the skin underneath his chin. Leaning further into his space, your lips stretched further at the raised hand stopping the two men at the door from reaching for their own weapons. You tilted your head while addressing him, faux innocence painting your features, “who do you think finally killed that bastard while the men you hired were too busy shitting their pants?”

His eyes followed yours to his right, the bastard in question sprawled out near the entrance with a bullet rooted between his eyebrows. Even with the pistol firmly boring into his skin, the corners of San’s lips quirked upwards, redirecting his focus to take you in with dazed, unreadable eyes. “Oh, darling,” rough, broken knuckles grazed your jaw, his lips widening as you unconsciously leaned into the touch, “just when I thought I couldn’t want you more.”

Eyebrows shooting up — the first hint of surprise flashing over your features — a blend of amusement and curiosity seeped into your expression, “oh?”

He walked you backwards, guiding you with the pistol pressing an indent into his flesh and a hand spreading warmth over your lower back, stopping his pointed steps once the wooden edge of the bar replaced the heated touch. He towered over you, leaning you back slightly over the glossy surface with lidded eyes studying your unchanging expression, the tip of his pointer tracing a languid line down the side of your face. Despite the gruesome scene surrounding you, and the firmness in which you held onto the pistol’s handle, your features were relaxed, easy smile gracing your lips and head tilted slightly in a discrete attempt to chase the gentle gesture. Choi San was not gentle, but one thing he did was make exceptions, unconcealable tenderness breaking through a rigid exterior to bleed into his calloused touch, to glimmer within narrowed eyes, and shape the honeyed words rolling off his otherwise sharp tongue.

Choi San didn’t make exceptions, scratch that. He made an exception.

To say he had been intrigued by you would be an understatement, years passing with him making time to drop by when he rarely ever needed to, making excuses to conceal his interest in a particular bartender who knew about his low-tolerance — classified information only a select few knew of —sneaking non-alcoholic beverages his way when he got pressured into drinking after a successful deal had been made in her presence. And despite the confidence oozing off you, shoulders straight and chin lifted as you batted your eyelashes flirtatiously at various customers, San noted the tremors shaking your fingers, the wary eyes darting in each direction while the men you worked with grazed against you while passing by, and those slurring their words drunkenly calling out to you from their booths. He noticed the tension in your shoulders even as the years went by, and regulars became familiar, their orders sliding across the bar seconds after they’d found an empty seat, before a greeting could slip out their smiling lips, pleased to be served by you once again. You knew the respect this façade had brought upon you, and yet your eyes remained sharp, solid walls built up behind the sultry smiles you handed these desperate men on a gold platter. And in the restless fight to break them down, San found himself too deep into a pit he could no longer pick himself up from. A pit brimming with burning want, a yearning so fervid, it ate at him from the inside out the more he pushed it away, cheap whores and endless mistresses futile in their attempts to simmer it down.

But now, the woman he so desperately wanted to break down between rough palms was trapped between his firm chest and the bar, still holding him at gunpoint while her free arm wrapped around his shoulder. It felt like hours, the steady ticking of the vintage clock hung on the bullet-riddled wall fading the deeper San peered into your eyes, looking up at him through curled eyelashes as the longer hand continued its clicking. Playfulness glimmered in your irises the longer San dragged his silence, as though he had no intention of building on his prior statement.

“What’s this about the great Choi San wanting me?”

Your tone indicated a challenge, a ‘how will he avert the situation to his advantage this time?’ while you kept your eyes on him, fingers tangling into the short hair at his nape to watch his eyelids droop even further at the pleasant stimulation. And perhaps what he needed was a pistol threatening to blow through his brain, realizing — after a chase lasting too many years — that he was tired of the endless back and forth, tired of the eager hands brushing over your body while he sipped on some fizzy beverage you’d handed him, watching as you basked under others’ attention, his own bullheadedness and pride pushing him further away from you when all he wanted to do was break every audacious finger that dared touch your skin in his presence.

Leaning closer, until his hot breath mingled with yours in the negligible gap he’d left between your faces, his hand curved over your jaw, thumb caressing the skin of your cheek, “baby, I’d give you the whole world if you’d just ask.”

The sudden confession surprised you, eyebrows flying up and jaw slackening under his touch, but you swiftly picked yourself up, a pleased smile stretching your lips as you bumped noses with him, “Mm, I’ll hold you up to that, Mr. Choi.”

Unlike the gradually deepening kisses shared in romance novels, teeth clanged and tongues pushed against one another, San’s hand travelling down your side to grab at your thigh until your feet lifted off the wooden floorboards. He set you down on the bar, fingers digging into the washed-out denim gathered at your hips while his teeth nipped at your bottom lip. Placing the pistol somewhere to your side, your hands wandered down San’s sculpted body and over the expanse of honey skin peeking through his open coat, fingertips grazing his nipples to elicit a sudden groan from the man’s lips, parting against your own. You made a mental note of his response, the corner of your mouth lifting as you repeated the action, the hungry clash of lips dwindling into interval pecks as you toyed with San’s chest, flushed and heated under your touch.

“About time you started thinking with your cock,” wrapping your legs around his frame, you dragged his pelvis closer to feel him against your core, hard and heavy within the confines of his pants.

He rolled his hips, eyes dazed as he took you in through the negligible gap separating you, breathing the same air as the friction and lust glazed over his lidded eyes. “Who said this was my cock speaking?”

Fingers pausing over his chest, you took in the implication behind his words, his heartbeat frenzied and erratic against your palm as though it was communicating in its own language, desperate to be heard amongst the chaos that was your nonexistent relationship with Choi San — a game of cat and mouse, with the roles reversing each time you’d crossed paths. Playful banter and meaningless flirting remaining at surface level with no endpoint in sight, both players stuck in a turmoil of pridefulness and cowardice, none willing to relent.

If you’d known a cheap, rusted pistol would push San onto his knees before you, you would’ve blown a bullet through someone’s head three years ago. It wasn’t the game you wanted to win for the sake of your treasured ego, but the thrashing muscle beneath your palm, one many would assume didn’t beat, cold-heartedness and dispassionate eyes only a few could see through. And perhaps that’s what drew him to you, your willingness to look past the blood on his hands and the barbarism in which he carried out his business, your eyes sparkling in interest rather than fear as you sneaked an unknown drink into his hand, treating him like a customer you wanted to woo into becoming a regular, and not as Choi San.

The silence stretched, until San’s mutter broke through the stillness, “do you fear me?”

You blinked up at him, pondering over his question for barely a second before whispering back, “no.”

Huffing out a small laugh, he cradled your jaw in one of his palms while his thumb caressed the skin of your cheek, “that’s reckless.” Perhaps his response should have scared you, or at least sent an icy chill down your spine, but your heart only ached for the man before you as you took in his feeble, half-hearted attempt at pushing you away. Ironic, considering he’d unconsciously leaned into you while he spoke, chest brushing against yours with every breath he inhaled. “You know I can’t be trusted.”

“Not when you look at me the way you do.”

A dangerous glint sparked in the dark of his irises, burning as he silently went over your words in his mind, the few seconds’ wait stirring up butterflies in your gut as you resisted cowering under his fierce gaze. And before you could question his speechlessness, or attempt a teasing remark to lessen the rigid tension beginning to choke you, San’s face was lurching forwards to capture your lips in another kiss. Hungrier, greedier, as though he’d been starved of you — and he’d argue he was — and was finally offered a taste, teeth clashing with his nose pressed against the side of yours as he sucked out the last of the oxygen in your lungs.

Emotion flooded into San’s chest, and he allowed it to seep through into his actions, hands restless and wandering over your frame while his tongue busied itself with exploring your mouth after you’d given him access. Short, breathy moans left your lips when his fingers tucked into the denim waistband of your jeans, eliciting a desperate groan from his as he struggled to undo the button separating him from your heat. The dizzying haze San’s soft lips on yours cast upon your mind broke, his eyes closed as he chased your retreating touch when the sudden awareness of your surroundings jerked you away from him. Despite your sudden rigidness, he didn’t allow you to move too far, tucking his face into the crook of your neck to inhale the sweet scent of your perfume masking the sharpness of the three cigarettes you’d smoked earlier.

His mouth found your pulse, tongue peeking out to drag kitten licks over the delicate skin in between the gentle pecks pressed onto the column of your throat. His breath warmed the stripes of saliva he’d left behind, “what’s wrong?”

San’s mouth stretched against your skin when your button finally popped open between his fingers, his thumb and index dragging the zipper down until black lace peeked through the opening. You flinched slightly, eyes wandering to the side while a bashful flush rode up your chest.

“San we—” you cleared your throat, “what about…?”

The thumb toying with the dainty lace paused when you’d placed your hand over his, directing his gaze over his shoulder with a faint nod of your head, eyes fixed onto your denim-clad lap. The two guards stood awkwardly by the entrance — Jongho appeared to be unfazed, yet the red tinting the tips of his ears betrayed his nonchalant attitude, intermittent coughs to relieve the dryness of his throat not going unnoticed under San’s watchful gaze. Mingi, on the other hand, fidgeted uncomfortably in hopes of relieving the suffocating tightness in his ironed dress pants, shifting his weight from one leg onto the other in a futile attempt to be discrete, the heavy arousal pressing against his zipper too tricky to conceal.

Moving his attention back to you, San lifted your gaze back to his softened eyes with a finger under your chin, “don’t worry, my darling, they wouldn’t dare look at what’s mine,” the words rolled off his tongue laced with dizzying sweetness. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you noted the averted gazes of the two men, as well as the obvious arousal bulging in the blonde’s pants. San’s finger guided your focus back onto him, “uh-uh, eyes on me.”

With a gentle grip around your wrist, he guided your hand down the toned muscle of his abdomen and over the luxury, leather belt, his hand cupping the back of yours to press it into the twitching lust tenting his pants. Your eyelashes fluttered at the rush of arousal drenching your panties, wrapping your fingers around the clothed girth to elicit a shaky exhale from the parted, plush lips mere centimeters away from yours, leaning forward to close the gap between them. No longer minding the two spectators, your low moan vibrated over San’s mouth, tongue running over his front teeth while you palmed over his hardness, his chest shuddering against yours at the friction. With an arm around your waist, San lifted your hips just enough to tug the bothersome denim off you, leaving you to kick it off while he revelled in the gentle friction you provided him.

He rolled his hips into your touch, one hand still covering yours at his crotch while the other hurriedly pulled your shirt up to your chest, followed by your bra to watch your tits spill out under the band. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You hummed, watching as he’d begun leaning down towards your exposed chest before your hand shot up from his pants to grab his jaw, watching as he confusedly looked up at you, cheeks smushed between your fingers and eyes glazed over with want.

“Mm, I bet you’d like that,” tilting your head to the side, a playful smile curving your lips as you watched him process the mocking tone he’d previously used on you — your refusal to comply bewildered him, but most of all, it sent shocks of burning arousal straight to his core.

The arm around your waist dragged you closer to the edge of the bar, his other hand raking through the hair at the side of your head, desperation leaking into his tone as he sucked in a sharp breath, “god, you’re fucking perfect.”

His pouted lips found yours in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, bodies colliding as his urgency and yearning revealed themselves in hungry nips and bites. You carded your fingers through the dark strands, wrapping your legs around his hips once he’d slotted himself between your thighs, heavy bulge pressed and rutting against your overwhelming heat.

Your own impatience clawed at your cracking composure, a man you’d watched from afar, unobtainable to all but those he’d handpicked himself, only to toss away the morning after. And for as long as you’d remembered, you’d hoped he’d never pick you, afraid of the lingering feelings he’d leave behind as his broad frame walked out the room, his scent permeating the sheets still covering your sweaty figure, fingers entangled into the cotton in a hasty attempt at preserving the memory of a man you’d wanted for years, but who only wanted you for a night.

Drawing back to take him in, the dystopian scenario your mind had drew up faded into dust as said man chased your lips, feline eyes shut, eyebrows drawn in as he registered the unreturning loss of your touch. While Choi San’s warmth may very well still be torn away from you, the morning sun shining over the world while leaving you alone in the chilling shade, you wondered if the memory of the burning body heat radiating off his soft skin would accompany you during those frosty, weary days. Barely weighing your options, you pressed yourself to the man before you, dragging him impossibly closer with the legs around his waist.

If the dawn of a new day were to illuminate the shards of your shattered heart, at least the moon would have borne witness to your undoing within Choi San’s fervid embrace.

“How about you be good and fuck me already?”

Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, San allowed you to guide his hands past the lacey waistband until your sweet arousal coated his fingertips, running them through your folds to feel you throbbing against him. His response was delayed, breathy as he struggled to focus with his hand in your panties, “be patient.”

Unlike any other statement that had left his plush lips, San’s tone was lacking, the noted detail stretching the corners of your mouth. “I can feel you shaking, Sir.”

The accusation earned you a firm glare, his gaze shifting from the indents of his knuckles against the lace to the cockiness painting your features. Was it nerves, or the anticipation? You wondered if Choi San ever felt any of those emotion, let alone allowed them to translate into his body language. And yet the unsubtle trembling continued, even as the deep baritone sounded in the negligible space separating you.

“Call me by my name.”

It seemed as though your choice of nickname was more alerting to him than the implication associated with his jitters. You wondered if this was his way of showing vulnerability, and the thought of another noticing his quivering irked you, “don’t wanna.”

To your surprise, San’s eyes softened, taking your jaw into his free hand and running his thumb beneath your bottom lip, “please, baby.” He circled his middle finger around your fluttering hole before breaching it, sinking all the way inside while his eyes studied your features. Letting out a breath at the stretch, your lips parted further when San’s thumb ran along the cracking skin, tongue peeking out to run over his nailbed. The sternness in his voice vanished and subtle whines mixed into his tone, “please, ‘wanna hear you saying my name.”

He slid another finger alongside the first, curving and running them over your walls until he grazed the spongy surface he’d been seeking, noting the flutter of your eyelashes, thighs tensing around his waist before spreading to allow him further access.

“C’mon,” he urged, fingertips digging into your g-spot as he shallowly thrusted them into your cunt, studying your face for encouragement as your eyebrows drew in and soft exhales quickened in pace. His thumb pressed into your bottom lip, and he leaned forward to leave an upwards trail of wet kisses over the slope of your jaw, mumbling against the flushed skin, “say my name, baby, let me hear it.”

You were putty in San’s arms, pleasure building in your gut as he fucked his fingers into your pussy, his hand trapped behind the lace and grinding his palm into your clit, the single syllable rolling off your tongue before you could help it, an airy repetition of his name, “San, San, San—” so sweet, melodic, bucking his hips into nothing at the sound, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and groaning into your skin, deep and gravelly, before sinking his teeth into the flesh.

A high-pitched whimper followed the echoes of his name, your walls clamping up around him as a sudden orgasm rushed through you, thighs shaking and back arching, head thrown backwards as he guided you back down with slow glides against your walls and tender kisses over the bitemark he’d left as a keepsake. Just as the tension in your muscles dwindled, San’s hand retreated out of your panties, hurriedly tugging the fabric down your legs and ignoring the audible tearing at the frantic action. He interrupted the complaint at the tip of your tongue with a look, berserk and brimming with searing lust,

“I need to fuck you right now,” his breathing was heavy, rapid, fingers digging into the flesh of your hip while his free hand rid him of his belt, tossing the leather to the side before undoing his pants and leaving them to fall to his ankles. “Can I, baby? I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Yeah,” you breathed out in a whine, wrapping your fingers around his biceps after he’d shrugged off his coat, revealing the wide expanse of soft, tan skin and bulging muscle, “want that, want you.”

San’s boxers gathered around his mid-thighs before his impatience became too much to handle, wrapping his arms around you to drag your hips closer before the burning heat of your core met his leaking cock. You breathed the same air, panting into the gap separating you as San ran his length through the slick coating your folds, once, twice, before his eagerness could no longer be held down. A visible shudder shook his toned figure as he breached your clenching hole, his cock stretching you open while you held onto his shoulders for stability, head angled downwards to watch your cunt swallow his cock whole.

“Fuck—darling, you gotta relax for me,” he bumped his forehead with yours, pressing tender kisses to your lips while you adjusted to his girth, unclenching your muscles and allowing the fullness to take over your senses. “Good girl,” he squeezed the back of your neck soothingly, planting a few pecks onto your cheekbone and temple.

He moved in shallow thrusts, craving the friction but refusing to part from the magnetic warmth of your cunt, slick squelching every time he pushed in and soft grunts leaving his lips as he cast his gaze onto your contorting face. He could tell you were still trying to hold your ground, but the pleasure soaring through your body at the languid grazes of his cockhead over your clenching walls dismantled the front you’d built up. And Choi San proved relentless in his pursuit, wanting nothing but to have you falling apart in his arms.

He snapped his hips without warning, a choked moan echoing in the back of your throat, “You’re mine, aren’t you?” he was so close, so deep, building up to a rhythm that rendered you momentarily speechless. “My own pretty girl to ruin.”

You made no effort in concealing your voice, intermittent ah’s making San’s insides flutter as he pounded into you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he seeked the tight squeeze of your cunt.

“You fucking wish,” lidded eyes not moving off him, you rolled your hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with just as much urgency, the heavy presence of his cock continuously fucking into you satisfying a years-long hunger you’d endured in silence.

“You can pretend all you want, but I can see the fucking mess you’re making of yourself,” the hand on your nape moved to the back of your head, pushing it down to vaunt his slick-coated cock peeking out of your pussy before stuffing it back inside, toned pelvis and snail trail glistening with your arousal as he grinded against your clit every time he sheathed himself within you. Leaning forward once again, San’s lips pressed against your cheekbone, moving over the skin as he rephrased his previous question into a sure statement, “you’re mine.”

And this time, you didn’t protest, didn’t tease, but simply nodded your head and breathed out a defeated, “yeah, ‘m all yours.”

San’s cock twitched, his hand dropping to your thigh to dig his fingers into the flesh, the other still wrapped possessively around you while he pistoned his hips into your sopping cunt, sweat beading over his temples while your foreheads remained flush, hot air circulating between your mouths as you pressed them against each other in breathless kisses, swallowing each other’s moans as ecstasy soared through your bodies.

“San—nngh fuck—" the more your back arched you away from him, the closer San drew you in, as though he couldn’t function without every patch of your skin glued to his own; until your nipples pressed together and his scent was all-consuming.

San prided himself in his stamina, but with your walls wrapped around him, his cock pulsed violently and all he could think about was fucking you full. “Gonna give you all I have,” he grunted, rhythm faltering and growing sloppy as the build of his orgasm blinded him, “you’ll take it all, won’t you?”

It seemed as though all you could do was nod, the sound of your synced breaths and skin-on-skin reverberating in the air surrounding your intertwined frame. All you could think about was San, so full of San, his scent, his warmth, his secure hold. San, San, San. The man noticed the sudden trance consuming you, moving his head back to hold your face in his palm, waiting until your eyes focused back on him to speak again,

“There you are,” it was barely a whisper, but you released a deep breath you’d unintentionally been holding, muscles relaxing despite the hurried pace of his hips pounding into you, “’m gonna fill you up, yeah?” Though you were on the brink of delirium, wanting nothing more but San’s thick cum deep within you, you remained quiet, watching as desperation seeped into his expression. “Please, baby—fuck—please let me, let me make a mess of you.”

You ran your fingers through his damp locks, scratching at his scalp to watch the feline eyes droop further. “Begging looks good on you,” you giggled, noting his slowed pace as he staved off his orgasm, a creamy ring of white forming around his cock.

An exasperated whine escaped his throat, his hips betraying him as they chased a pleasure he’d been delaying, “you’ll look so pretty full of my cum, you’ll take it so well.”

The furrow of his eyebrows, pretty pink tinting his skin and fingers trembling where he replaced them at your nape, you couldn’t find it in you to refuse him anymore, the familiar tingle of your impending orgasm breaching your brittle mask of nonchalance.

“Give it to me, Sannie, I’ll take it all.”

That was all San needed, the nickname blurring his vision as he stuffed his length into your cunt, pelvis pressed against your clit as he painted your walls with sticky ribbons of pearly white, his cock throbbing while he fed his load into your womb. You watched his eyes flutter shut and mouth form a perfect ‘o’ as he used your warm hole to milk himself of every last drop, graced with the opportunity to watch him unravel for only a few moments before he dragged you into his body, tucking your head into his neck while he grinded his twitching cock into your cum-soaked pussy. It was so much, so warm as he flooded your insides with his seed, a thin stream dribbling out of your stretched entrance while he shot a few more pathetic spurts.

You tangled your fingers into the short locks at his nape, reveling in the untamed, successive moans San let out into your ear, the mix of his deep baritone and high-pitched whimpers leading your pussy to clench around him. And despite the building overstimulation, he started up a steady rhythm once again, pulling out before slamming back inside. You felt the thick cum flooding out of you, only to be fucked back into your needy cunt. An orgasm you’d thought had dwindled away built right back up as San’s cockhead pounded relentlessly into your g-spot, thighs clamping around his hips as they guided you towards the edge.

You clung to his shoulders, hesitantly pushing your head back when he’d gripped the hair at your nape, shaky breath blowing against your skin as he watched you melt in his arms, eyes squeezed shut, “gonna come for me?”

“mhmm,” your cunt pulsed sporadically as he pumped it full of his sensitive cock, and he leaned down to pepper kisses over your eyelids.

“Don’t close your eyes, baby. Look at me,” he muttered over the delicate skin, his smile dripping with sweetness once you’d done as he asked, faltering slightly when your walls finally clamped up around him, “that’s it—fuck—that’s a good girl.”

Vivid flashes of colour painted your vision, muscles spasming in San’s hold as you finally tumbled over the edge. He coaxed you through it with languid glides over your trembling walls, honeyed voice mumbling praise into your ear while ecstasy rocketed through your body, going completely silent through the first wave before a broken moan ripped through your chest. Your cunt squelched with the added slick, a mixture of your release and San’s simultaneously being fucked into and out of the used hole, and San wanted nothing but to spread you open and swallow your combined taste until you squirmed and thrashed under him, pulling at his hair and squeezing his head between your thighs. But exhaustion was apparent in your eyes, body going limp in his arms as you finally came down, spasming and whimpering while weakly pushing at his bicep.

San didn’t pull out, but simply slid his whole length back inside you and stilled, waiting until your features relaxed before leaning in for a kiss — slow, deep, breaking apart to plant a succession of feathery pecks over your pouted lips.

As he tucked you closer once again, nuzzling your nose into his pulse point, you wondered if this was how Choi San treated all his women, lulling them into a false sense of security before ripping their heart out of their chest, leaving them with the bitter memory of what could have been and the retreating shadow of his broad frame. But one peek over his shoulder, you took in the wordless conversation shared between the two guards, bewilderment and questioning glinting in their widened eyes, frantic hands flailing at their sides in an attempt to dissect the situation. The peculiar scene eased your concerns, and the steady heartbeat of the man you’d longed to hold you for so long laced the air around you with a comforting aroma.

Twisting his head, San studied your dazed expression for a few moments before you’d met his eyes, earning you an easy smile and dimpled cheeks that sent your heartrate on a frenzy, and with your chests flush, San’s lips only smiled further at the realization. The man had warned you about the recklessness of trusting him, and while you knew it to be as such, you were content to live in this warm aura of comfort he’d provided you so long as you could bare witness to this side of vulnerability unknown to many. And even if this moment were to be fleeting, leaving you to grieve the short-live tenderness instead of revel within it, San’s overwhelming warmth and the fervency of his embrace would eternally linger, casting a comforting glow on any desolate, bitter days to come.

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hongjoongsart · 2 months

Text

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | Choi San

💐 IMPORTANT: Re-upload from my deleted account (hongjoongspoetry).

💐 Summary: Being a mother wasn’t an item on your bucket list, never has and probably never will be. You were more than content with living a childless life and it wasn't an occurring issue before, until you brought your boyfriend on a trip to your parents’ where his love for kids unveiled right in your face. You were adamant on your choice, but scared what the future held for you and your boyfriend.

💐 Pairing(s): idol!San x f!reader

💐 Genres/Tropes: tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, established relationship, a lil suggestive

💐 Warnings/Tags: no use of (Y/N), mentions of pregnancies, arguments, explicit language, expectations that come with being a woman, reader doesn't want babies, pushy family, emotional invalidation, listed pregnancy side effects, san with kids

💐 Wordcount: 12.2K

💐 Author's note: Here's a lil treat inspired by my fear of pregnancies. I am not a mother and I'm not trying to offend anyone who is. I haven't experienced motherhood so I wouldn't understand the complicit feelings that come with it, this is more my observation of it I guess.

Edited 22 January, 2024!

AO3 Playlist Click on me!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent San in any way or form.

Babies weren’t foreign to you even at the age of five.

You knew what they were; you had been one, your parents and siblings too, heck every living thing had been a baby at one point in their life. From the carrots growing in your grandma’s garden to the old ducks swimming in the pond down the street.

Babies were cute. A bit annoying, but nonetheless cute. Probably the reason why your parents decided to have so many children or was it the nostalgia of holding an infant when their kids grew up to be living ticking time bombs.

It wasn’t anything weird or something you paid attention to. It was quite simple too; people had children because they fell in love or to keep the relationship floating.

Children were simple beings. What they hear they shall question. Seeing your teacher highly pregnant, rubbing her stomach and wearing a gleeful expression, talking about birth and pregnancies and everything else coming with that had you taking in the information like a sponge absorbing water.

“Mom, did you give birth to me?”

“Of course, honey, I am your mom aren’t I?” You remember her gently wiping your cheek, a warm smile adorning her face.

You hummed in agreement, throwing a cut piece of steak in your mouth somewhat satisfied with her answer. Your eyes filtered between Hana and Jun, watching them push at each other’s shoulders clearly bickering over something so pointless your dad couldn’t bother stopping them. Not that it was possible, they were brought into this world together and separating them would only bring more chaos.

“Did you give birth to Hana-unnie and Jun-oppa too?”

“Yah! What do you think, airhead?!” Jun snarkily replied and got a light whack of the head by your sister.

“Sweetie, don’t hit your brother.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Even if he deserves it?”

“Even if he deserves it,” your father concluded and urged them to eat.

Another piece of meat was flung in your mouth as you stared at the family portrait behind the twins, focusing on your other siblings who moved out a long time ago and already started their own families. Your mother saw the bemused tingle covering your features.

“Go on and eat your food.”

A small pout adorned your lips, “How do you give birth?”

Your parents were more than prepared for the wonders of your mind, any question fired at them had already been answered years ago with your older siblings. That’s what they thought at least and it explained why the dinner table went pin silent as the question was flung out in the open.

The seasons changed like your father changed channels. Spring fluttered into summer quicker than expected. Budded flowers opened, the various colored roses adorning your grandma’s fence beautifully. The breeze welcomed you with open arms, proudly announcing the start of summer break. The transition between summer and autumn was slow. The rich green leaves took their time changing shades – red, orange and eventually an ugly brown that reminded you of wet mornings and cold coffees – before the howling wind swirled them away, stripping the trees of its beauty.

As the years passed your My Little Pony boots were replaced with wedge heels and your favorite color wasn’t pink, but black – even though Jun argued black wasn’t a color – and before you knew it Hana moved out with her boyfriend, now husband, of six years. A small but evident baby bump peeking behind her knitted sweater.

You were seventeen at that time, the twins twenty-two and your remaining siblings already thirty-something.

Her baby girl wasn’t the first grandchild of your family tree and she certainly wasn’t going to be the last either, because four years later she welcomed another child into the world just a couple of months before your brother’s wife. That made a grand total of seven grandkids, three girls and four boys.

You were very grateful to your mom for giving birth to you last and grateful for the free birth control your siblings provided you with. Despite their children having moments of incarnating the devil, they weren’t the issue to your disdain of want for a baby.

Some said it was the lack of a boyfriend and others pointed out you being too focused on your academic studies – that your decision to start university was too hasty – depriving you of your youth, as if a newborn wouldn’t.

You saw what motherhood did to your sisters and in-laws, and it wasn’t anything you’d like for yourself. Not even after meeting your boyfriend, who you were madly in love with and he was completely head over heels for you, did your perception change.

Babies were cute to look at, but growing one inside of you? No thanks.

You glanced at San through the bathroom mirror, white shaving cream around his face.

“Don’t you have filming with the Return of Superman today?”

“Yep, have to make sure the beard doesn’t scratch the kids.”

You laughed again, “Beard? I haven’t seen you with a stub in how many months now, let alone a beard.”

Your eyes met in the reflection, one of his brows raised and lips puckered as if contemplating something. He then let go of the razor and gently took hold of your waist and neck, pressing his sticky cheek against yours. You yelled out and tried to push him away, but he barely moved.

“What did you say about my beard?”

“You have a beautiful beard! So pretty and well-kept!”

San smiled brightly, dimples popping and eyes creasing as he planted a wet kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you baby!”

The white cream was washed off with extreme care, as he was afraid of wetting your clothes and hair.

“There you go.” He threw on a gray hoodie, black hair slightly disheveled but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with you running your hand through it.

“I’d say thanks, but you’re at fault.”

He rested his hands on your hips, thumbs sneaking underneath the white fabric of your blouse to caress the soft skin beneath. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Your twentieth lap around the world was filled with many experiences and emotions. You finally moved out of the countryside to the big city and found an apartment in the middle of Seoul. As much as you loved the feeling of freedom and independence you also despised it. Not having anyone waiting on you by the door, no home cooked meals or clean clothes neatly made on your bed reminded you of what you left behind.

Although it was hard to adapt at first you managed and with the help of a friend you quickly adjusted to the busy city life. As someone wise once said; after rain came sunshine, and your sunshine was San. The boy your friend introduced you to when you still had little to no knowledge of Korean pop groups besides the older generations and singing ring-ding-dong no repeat.

At the time he was just San, a funny and caring friend you could be yourself with, occasionally going out to secluded shops for coffee and pastries. You never questioned the scenery and request of privacy, always giving people the benefit of the doubt, until a girl stopped you on your way to a morning class with the demand you tell her who you were and what connection you had to her Sannie.

With a trembling voice you answered her truthfully, debunking any conclusions she already made up in her mind.

You didn’t go to school that day or home for that matter either, scared to be followed and questioned again by a potential lover or side-piece so you did the next best thing; stopped by a 7-eleven and spent your morning there before taking the first train to your sister’s unannounced, spilling everything like an overflowing bucket.

As the mature woman she was, she spurred you on to ask San. Saying you deserved answers to your questions and to potentially clear up any misunderstandings – if there were any of that is.

The moment you told him about the girl, he came forward with who he was, something he admitted he should’ve done immediately, but didn’t for two reasons: a) you allowed him to be himself with no walls and b) he was worried the truth would scare you away. Heck, you were already chased just by being near him and you didn’t even know anything. To your luck, the girl wasn’t his girlfriend or a crazy ex, but a fan and San was an idol.

A few weeks after his confession your friendship progressed and blossomed into a beautiful relationship. You could proudly call him yours in the privacy of your apartment and he could wrap his arm around you – face masks and caps on of course – scaring the prying eyes of other men. He filled your solitude with the comfort and love you missed so dearly.

“Honey, have you seen my gray hoodie? I can’t find it in your wardrobe.” San stood before your closet, torso exposed and an expensive towel you can’t remember the brand of wrapped around his hips.

You were in the kitchen brewing coffee for the both of you. A plain yet pretty dress stuck tightly to your form, “Mmm, I think it’s in the basket with all the other clean clothes.”

The taps of his bare feet filled your apartment accompanied by a gasp seconds later.

“Did you find it?”

Large arms slinked around your waist and pulled you into San’s chest, he nuzzled his nose against the bare spot on your neck before peppering it with tender pecks, “Thank you, honey.”

“Always, baby. Here’s your coffee.”

You gingerly handed him the cup, but San had other plans. Ever-so-gently he titled your head sideways as his lips met yours. It was soft and made your stomach swoop as if going down a steep roller coaster.

San had that effect on you no matter what he did.

“You have to…get dressed or…we’ll be late,” you said between kisses.

His chest vibrated against your back as he hummed in delight, “This is worth getting in trouble for.”

“I’m sure it is, but I don’t think Wooyoung will appreciate that.”

“I don’t care.”

A laugh bubbled out as you rewarded him with one last kiss to the cheek. Eventually you both parted ways. San went first, wearing an obligatory cap and mask while meeting up with his manager further down the street and you followed shortly after, taking the commute to your workplace.

“So,” you started after placing the pot on the table between your plates, immediately filling San’s, “my parents invited us to theirs next week.”

He nodded, “I think I can make it, but I’ll have to double-check with the guys and managers.”

It was the first date night in weeks where both of you were free from work and had enough energy to meet up. You originally invited all the boys, but San was keen on keeping you to himself, claiming he wanted some alone time. If it were up to him he’d see you everyday even for just five minutes, arguing that the short time could give him the motivation to work harder. In return you reminded him the journey from his dorm to your place was a thirty minute long drive without traffic, the energy he’d get would evaporate in seconds.

“It’s okay if you can’t make it, Sannie. I know you guys have a lot to do, especially with the release of your new album.”

“Mmm, don’t worry about that. We’ll see first, but I’m telling you now. I want to go.” He reached for your hand across the small table and you returned the sentiment with a squeeze before beckoning him to eat.

You took notice of his upturned lips and crescent moon eyes. It wasn’t an unusual sight, San was always in a good mood and when he wasn’t he still mustered up a smile warm enough to brighten your day.

“What are you smiling about?” You teased, carrying a grin of your own.

“You should have seen the kids the other day, they were so cute.”

“Oh, it completely slipped my mind to ask. How was it?”

“It was fun and they were so, so cute. All of them really.”

“I can imagine, Sannie.”

“I don’t want to say too much, you still have to wait for the episode, but ohhh! I can’t stop smiling.”

You chuckled and enjoyed seeing your boyfriend suffer a hard case of baby fever. San loved kids, put that man near a kid and anyone in one mile radius would see it. That was how you found out.

You were babysitting your niece one random Thursday night, your brother claiming ‘you owed him’ for something you did in your childhood days that was long forgotten. San asked if you were free that same night, but you sadly turned him down, briefly explaining the situation and voilá. The date was moved from a five star restaurant to your living room with blankets and ice cream and a toddler with bigger love for Bluey than her aunt.

San’s love for kids wasn’t something he expressed with you, but rather something you saw through gentle touches and light coos, a few stolen pecks here and there.

It wasn’t an issue to you. In all honesty, it was attractive because how many men did you know who actually showed interest in their children? How many dads knew their kids’ birth dates or their favorite ice cream flavor?

And yeah, you felt the same. Your nieces and nephews were cute, especially when they wore matching clothes for Chuseok and Christmas. Don’t even get you started on their birthday costumes.

But it wasn’t enough to make you want one.

It wasn’t worth the nine month long journey of fatigue, mood swings, nausea, stretch marks and not to mention the painful process of giving birth and what came after; potentially loss of teeth, tearing the perineum, hair loss… the list is truly endless.

Not wanting kids wasn’t a problem until you stumbled into San who carried a love big enough for the whole population of South Korea.

“I can’t wait till we have kids,” San admitted as you stuffed your mouth with a spoonful of rice.

The clock hanging above the kitchen entrance didn’t freeze but you sure did. The words would make anyone squeal and melt at once, however they washed over you like a big cold wave in the atlantic ocean and sent your food into the wrong pipe. San jumped up from his seat and patted your back while opening a can of coke with his other hand.

“Drink this.” He pushed the beverage in your hands and waited to make sure you were alright. The coughing didn’t stop but at least you could breathe. “Better?”

You sent him a nod, not trusting your voice to keep its cool. San didn’t question the lack of response to his blunt statement nor why you nearly choked to death. The night ended with you two hastily filling the dish machine and cuddling together on the couch with you laying on top of him. A boring movie played on the big TV while you basked in each other’s embrace.

Halfway through the movie you cleared your throat, not being able to shake the conversation from earlier, “You want kids?”

“Not right now, but someday,” San said, one hand under his head and the other rubbing your back. He then glanced down at you. “Don’t you?”

You turned so your chin rested on his chest, noses almost touching and his peppermint breath fanning your face. The simple two letter word was stuck in your throat, and like the coward you were you swallowed them down with guilt. You shot him a quick smile and even manually crinkled your eyes to make it more believable.

Twenty minutes later and San was out like a light, the hectic schedules and plenty of sleepless nights getting to him in the end. Sleep didn’t come as easy to you. Mind too occupied with thinking, thinking and more thinking. Tears blurred your eyes and you didn't know if they were from the stuffy room or the guilt bubbling in your abdomen.

The incident was pushed under the rug in your living room, neither bringing it up again nor the topic of a future family, mainly because you were both drowning in work and adult responsibilities. The days passed in a flash and when Friday came around San was parked outside the building early in the morning, welcoming you with a preheated seat and a cup of steaming hot coffee.

“The twins and their kids are the only ones who could come. Mimi-unnie’s little ones caught the flu and Jin couldn’t get away from work.”

Coming from a rather small family and then moving in with seven men he considered brothers was quite the change for young San, so hearing that neither Mimi or Jin, and their respective families, could make it made him deflate.

“That’s unfortunate. We haven’t seen them in a long time.”

“Yeah, but at the same time I can already feel the headache coming from having seven kids running around all day.”

“That’s how Hongjoong must feel all the time.”

The image of seven twenty-something-year olds running around as toddlers and an exhausted Hongjoong not far behind them popped up in your head and brought out a laugh. Then last week’s phone call with your mother interrupted the vision and you got serious again.

“Did you bring spare clothes? Mom said they were warning of a rainstorm.”

“Yep. It’s in the trunk with your things.”

Your hands rested on your lap and San, feeling the need to touch you, gently intertwined your fingers with his and placed a kiss to the back of your hand. He occasionally withdrew when changing gears before resuming his hold. The ride was long and by the time you arrived you were exhausted despite not doing anything but passing San snacks every once in a while.

Squeals of joy and multiple little feet padding against the hardwood floor had your lips curling upwards as you opened the door. You crouched down and were greeted with two kids catapulting in your embrace.

“Hello little chicks,” you said and planted a kiss on the crown of their heads.

“Did you miss us?” Borah asked, her small hands tightening around your neck leaving barely any room for her little brother.

Before you could reassure her the door opened behind you and in came San, thus stealing the lovely cuddle session right from beneath your nose.

“Uncle San!”

He lifted both children in his arms and beamed at their giggles and kicking legs. You craned your head up, eyes trailing up to San’s closed ones, and your heart swelled with love. He looked like he belonged right there surrounded by tiny humans with toothless smiles and snotty noses.

A tug at your sleeve had your head whipping forwards, “Kai,” you cooed at the youngest of the batch earning a blurb of happy noises.

The hallway proceeded to be crowded by the rest of the house. Hugs and kisses were exchanged with your family and out of the corner of your eyes you could see San exchanging a firm handshake with your father.

“You’re right in time for dinner!” Your mother gleefully exclaimed and ushered you inside, the little ones slinking around her legs like overly fed kittens mooching for more food.

The first hour was spent catching up and talking about everything you’ve missed out on in each other’s lives. Your father initiated small talk with San, asking him about the drive there and if he had a lot of work even wondering how the rest of Ateez were doing. To your relief your parents treated him as their third son and your siblings weren’t opposed to the idea of another brother.

You sat in between Jun and Jisoo – his wife – giving her all of your attention. Apparently she was in the middle of her second trimester, something you just found out. You sent Jun a quick glare and a whack to the back of his head, and as he was about to fight back he slumped back in his seat all thanks to the stern eyes of his wife.

“Here let me help you, mom.”

San ventured into the open kitchen and took the plates from your mother’s hands. She tried stopping him but it was to no avail, once a gentleman, always a gentleman. So she did the next best thing.

“Are you not embarrassed Jun? Sitting on your rear while the guests prepare the table!”

“I’m a guest too?!” He cried and Jisoo stifled a laugh behind her palm, the other hand rubbing her swollen belly.

“Yah, guest my ass. It’s your house as much as it’s mine so get over here before I rip your ear off.”

San stood by the table and waited for another chance to interfere, or as Jun liked to call it ‘buttering up to the in-laws’. You creeped up behind San and leaned your cheek against his bicep.

“You good?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of your head. If someone knew what it meant to be separated from family then it was San, having not seen his own parents in how many years now?

“I’m perfect,” you replied and discreetly created some space between you as the rest of the family entered the kitchen.

Unlike San, you weren’t very keen on showing public affection especially as you guys never did it due to him being a literal celebrity. You had no problem showering him with love behind closed doors, but it was different with so many people around and in front of your parents nonetheless. That was just forbidden, almost illegal in your books.

As if they hadn’t done the deed at least four times–

“Well go on, why are you standing there like sheep waiting for Lassie.”

Everyone swammered the table per your mother’s request. You, San and Borah sat on one side of the table with your mother and father on each end, and Jun, Jisoo and Hana across from you.

“How is work, sweetie?”

You faced your mother as she filled your plate with food and you practically tore the spatula from her hands.

“It’s good. There’s a lot now that people are on vacation, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’ve always been a hard worker,” she grumbled. “And how are you otherwise?”

Your brows furrowed, “I’m great too. What do you mean?”

She stared you dead in the eyes, making sure you were looking at her too, and flickered her gaze down to your stomach and back up again three times.

“I am healthy.”

The bite you tried to hide slipped out and she couldn’t help but scoff.

“Of course you’re healthy. I don’t give birth to sick babies.”

You don’t know when your mother turned so…sour. When her gentle touches turned to pinches and words of endearment became sneers of displeasure. Over one summer she had changed drastically and called every two to three weeks, asking the same questions, hoping for different answers.

“At least someone here is eating for two.”

The sentence struck you right in the heart and it bothered you how easily she got under your skin. As if prioritizing yourself brought shame on your whole family tree, it wasn’t like she didn’t have a soccer team of grandkids already.

Your sister-in-law smiled timidly and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for her being put in the spotlight just because of your mother’s pettiness.

“Oh, that reminds me, San-ah! We watched your Return of Superman episode,” Hana said excitedly.

“Who do you like more, uncle San, me or Jaeyul?”

“Mmm, that is a hard question, Borah. How about this, I’ll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret?”

The five year old immediately nodded and San – keeping his promise – gently whispered in her ear, “You.”

A gasp slinked out of her lips and she threw her hands over her mouth, the two exchanged a look and San made a zipping motion over his lips, a gesture Borah copied.

“Wah, you’re so good with kids San-ah,” Jun complimented.

“I was just about to say that! We couldn’t stop smiling, it was so endearing. All of you, really,” your sister added and pushed her thick glasses up against her nose.

San straightened at the praise. A dust of red covered his face accompanied with a bright smile.

“I just love kids.”

“Then it’s about time you get some, don’t keep us waiting any longer.”

Your body tensed and your grip on the spoon tightened. Your mother talked about the matter as if babies were truly delivered by storks and not an almost year long process. You kept your gaze on your plate, not daring to meet anyone’s stares, not when you could feel San’s bore into the side of your face. You two had yet to talk about the future and it wasn’t something you were ready for, especially not after his random burst of baby fever.

San cleared his throat, “Well I’d rather first put a ring on your daughter’s finger, if that’s alright with her.”

Oh, how you loved this man.

You didn’t need things to be official to know how you felt about San. A scribble of paper and a ring on your finger wouldn’t make your love more real, but you knew if San asked the big question you’d say yes in a heartbeat.

Heat ran through you, from the center of your heart to the tips of your toes, and it was hard to suppress the smile fighting its way on your face. The twins ‘oh-ed’ loudly, Jun even made the table into a makeshift drum as Borah and Jisoo jumped on the teasing wagon. Your father smiled at the scene before him. It was about time you got married, he thought but kept it to himself. Your mother on the other hand wasn’t all too pleased. As much as she wanted you to marry before conceiving, she didn’t want to wait any longer than necessary and with how your life was going, a marriage wasn’t an event in any of her five future calendars.

“Are we supposed to call you Mrs. Choi now?”

A hard smack resounded in the house with a groan.

The dinner ended with no more personal questions about your and San’s relationship as all the attention was diverted to Jun and Jisoo’s unborn baby. Now you were all gathered in the living room, except for Jisoo who long passed out in Jun’s childhood bedroom.

“Auntie.” Borah grabbed at your elbow, her legs stretched over your thighs as she sat in San’s lap with her head resting against his chest.

“Yes, flower?”

Her eyes were droopy and she barely stayed awake despite the loud conversation of the adults. You inched closer to her to easily decipher her slurring words.

“I wanna sleep with you and uncle San.”

“Mmm, you want to cuddle with us?” She nodded tiredly. “Lemme ask uncle San first, okay flower?”

You caressed her hair and she smacked her lips before readjusting herself in San’s arms. Despite balancing between sleep and consciousness she was determined to know his answer.

It didn’t take much more than a gentle ‘Sannie’ for you to catch his attention, “Borah wants to sleep in our bed. Is that alright with you?”

He glanced down at the usually sugar rushed child and chuckled at her passed out form. “Of course. Here, I’ll tuck her in.”

While he went upstairs, easily navigating through the house from the previous visits, you stepped foot in the kitchen. The dishes from the dinner had just been pushed aside by your mother as she was dead set on everyone spending more time together, not allowing anyone entry in the kitchen unless it was to get more food.

Although she was challenging your patience for the past five hours, you still loved her dearly so washing the dishes was the least you could do without blatantly saying it.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

Speak of the devil and they shall appear.

“Nothing, making your life easier.”

“Oh, please. My life hasn’t been any easier since you moved out. Constantly worrying about you.”

“Really, mom? There’s nothing to worry about plus it’s not like I’m alone. I have San.” You rinsed a plate and stacked it on the rack to your left.

“I know…That’s what I’m afraid of.”

A glass nearly slipped out of your hands. Your confused eyes met her worried ones and you bit the inside of your cheek, not really understanding what she was getting at.

“Why…I’m sorry, what are you exactly…afraid of?”

The anxiety grew like weeds in your mind at her gentle whisper of your name. Did she not like San? But that was impossible; she practically referred to him as her favorite son-in-law.

“Don’t you think it’s time you two get serious?”

“Okay!” You dropped the sponge in the sink and placed your soapy hands on your hips. “You really need to stop talking in riddles or my head is going to explode from anxiety.”

“There you go again with that anxiety. It’s not real!”

“Nope! Don’t try to change the subject. Say what you really mean or just stop talking, mom I swear it’s the only chance I’m giving you to be outright honest with me.”

A beat of silence passed and then another. Just as you thought she was backing down, the second most outrageous thing of the day came out of her mouth.

“Get married to San before he leaves you for someone else.”

You scoffed, “Unbelievable. You’re unbelievable.”

The rag hanging off your shoulder was snatched as you used it to dry your hands, but the anger proved that to be difficult so you bolted up to your room, not bothering with bidding anyone a good night’s sleep. You just needed to get away from the tension downstairs and, believe it or not, you craved San’s comfort.

Anger clouded your vision and all rational thoughts were pushed aside as you threw the door open, scaring San and nearly arousing little Borah. As much as you wanted to slam it shut, you couldn’t. Instead you did the childish-angry thing where you swing the door with all your might and stop it just as it was about to close and create an atomic-like explosion.

San rose from his comfortable position on the pink fluffy carpet that teenage-you chose, eyes wide in alarm and arms reaching for you.

He had changed out of the black hoodie and gray suit pants and into something more comfortable; a satin black pajamas you gifted him for Valentine’s day with a pair of semi-rimless glasses perched on his nose. Something about the look made him so domestic your anger nearly disappeared into thin air.

“Woah, woah. What’s wrong?”

You hid your face in your hands and San wasted no time taking you in his arms, bringing your body close to him. The motion had you sighing deeply as you exhaustively sunk into his embrace. San didn’t push for an answer and for that you were grateful. He rubbed your back and kissed your temple, nose and cheek.

“It’s my mom,” you eventually whispered.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You didn’t move at first, weighing your options. Sharing the harsh words of your mom would lead to a conversation you weren’t ready to take. So you shrugged and clasped your hands around his torso.

“Yes and no.”

“Okay, come here.”

He gave you another kiss before moving you so your back was against his chest and shuffled over to the bed. He sat down by Borah’s feet, careful not to wake her, and pulled you between his legs dangling over the edge of the queen sized bed. His hands found home on your stomach immediately easing you off your anger.

“We’ll do whatever you feel like. We can talk about it if you want or I can just listen to you, but if you don’t want to we won’t. We can find something else to do. It’s up to you, honey.”

You took his hands in yours and examined his each and every finger. A wave of nervousness washed over you and a distraction was needed to untangle your tied tongue.

“She just said some…mean things I guess.”

“About you?”

You nodded silently. “About us.”

San hummed and you honestly expected a stronger reaction, but you should’ve known better.

He was rational and never really lashed out, at least not that you knew of. You’d never seen him angry enough to act on it.

“She didn’t mean anything ill thought, but you were the starting point of it.”

“Look at me?”

As you faced him his eyes immediately found yours and in them were swirls of pure affection and sincerity.

“I love you.”

The skin on your cheeks burned hot and your lips curled into an embarrassed smile. The confession sent a magic tingle through your body.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he said again, not satisfied with your response.

“I love you too, Sannie.”

“Good. Don’t worry ‘bout what your mom says. I love you and nothing will change that.”

Reassuring words and mellow touches.

“Nothing?”

Not even your fear of childbirth?

Or the idea that the two of you never may have children?

“Nothing, my love.”

And if he noticed the turn your smile took – going from happy to sad – he didn’t mention it. Because despite everything you couldn’t stop the gnawing thoughts of dread and what if’s from filling your mind.

“Did you watch the episode?”

“What episode?”

“The one of Seonghwa-hyung, Woo and I with the kids.”

Right, that one.

At first you didn’t purposely push it back on your agenda but the more you remembered his wish of starting a family the more chores you suddenly had to do and oh, that pile of paperwork could certainly not wait until after the weekend and when you actually had the time to watch it your phone would ping with a billion messages, every single one coming from San who insisted he craved to hear your voice and see your ‘absolutely angelic face’ – his words.

So no. You hadn’t seen it.

“Ah, really?” He laughed at the speed you shook your head. “Well, let’s watch it together.”

“Now?”

“Mmm. Unless you don’t wanna?”

“Oh– Uhm, no! Go ahead, I’ll just change into something comfortable.”

Why he brought his laptop for a two day journey, you had no idea but apparently it worked in his favor because there you were laying on the side closest to the wall with Borah snuggled between you guys while the laptop was perched on San’s stomach, the episode playing in full swing.

Every interaction with the twins or Jaeyul made your guts twist and clench. You had to admit it was cute; so cute that your dinner almost went back up the same way it came from. You felt so bad and the worst of it all was the guilt that followed, the guilt of knowing you weren’t doing anything wrong yet you’d still be treated as if you were.

And it was such a shitty situation, because how come that the man who’d single-handedly light up each and every star for you, also was the one to summon the clouds obscuring the night sky?

You didn’t notice San’s lingering eyes or the way his fingers itched to hold yours or the three word long question resting on his tongue. Not that he was being obvious about it. Whenever you looked at him he’d flash you that derpy smile of his and a reassuring blink that lasted a second too long.

It may have been unclear to you, but nothing passed your radar of a brother. He did have the maturity of a boy going through early stages of puberty, but you had to give it to him, he was observant. Too observant for his own good.

“What’s going on with you and lover boy?”

Thanks to Jun’s stupidity you both were honored with dish-duties. What you didn’t know was that it was all a part of his masterplan.

“What?”

“I don’t know I’m the one asking you.”

You glared at him and he wordlessly took the clean tray from you.

“I’m just saying, we dudes, we see when something’s wrong.”

“So something’s wrong with San?”

“Not with San.” He put the tray in place and threw the rag over his shoulder, painfully dragging out the conversation, “With you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me?”

“Mm-mm, there is. You’re all tense and silent, and anytime someone mentions a baby you do this thing where you disapp– Yeah, just like that!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at your face void of emotion.

“I’m just not feeling it today.”

A gasp left his mouth and he looked around almost alarmed. “Don’t tell me you’re…pregnant?” He whispered the last word as if it was a crime that could sentence you to life in prison.

Out of sheer surprise and terror you smacked the side of his head.

“Are you out of your mind?!” You hissed back.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“It is a no!”

“Okay, don’t hit me again!” As you raised your arm he simultaneously threw his hands up to shield himself from your wrath.

A third party watched the banter from the living room, his feet tucked under his thighs in a pretzel motion and tongue poking at his cheek. The three years you spent together, from the platonic start to the blossoming romance, granted you more knowledge of each other than anyone else.

San noticed your change in behavior at the dinner table last night, after the talk with your mother and as you cozied up to him in bed. At first he brushed it off as jitters for not being home for so long and the overwhelming emotions of finally meeting everyone again, but the more he thought of it the more he realized it wasn’t like you. And he promised himself to ask you about it, he just needed to find the perfect moment when you weren’t being swammered by everyone else which proved to be nearly impossible. If you weren’t hounded by your mother or bothered by your siblings, then you were stuck with the little ones and their sticky fingers.

“San-ah.”

Hana brought him out of his thoughts.

“Do you ever see yourself having kids?”

The question threw him off guard because wasn’t it obvious? What more could he want than to start a family with the love of his life?

“Of course, but it’s not something we’ve gotten around yet. We’re not rushing anywhere either!”

Hana nodded and took a long sip of her chamomile tea. There was something so uneasy with her watchful eyes and the slight purse of her lips that had San thinking a little too much to his liking.

Was he missing something?

And he really shouldn’t have asked, prod at her interest and start something he wasn’t sure he was ready for but being the curious cat he was, San couldn't help himself.

“If you don’t mind, why are you asking?”

“Mmm…you see, she’s not the brightest when it comes to children.”

That sentence sounded like an unstrung guitar being played with a dull rock underwater. If San remembered correctly, you shone the brightest around your nieces and nephews. There was never a dull moment with them, always bringing you to tears from laughing too much. He saw you with them; you were gentle, thoughtful and careful, and he was certain it had nothing to do with you sharing the same blood.

San must have looked confused because Hana spluttered out an explanation, her hands waving around at the speed of light.

“I’m just saying that because I know how you’re with kids. Anyone can see you love them and I know it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“What wouldn’t be fair?”

“Not having kids,” she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

San wanted to ask more questions yet he decided to hold his tongue. He wouldn’t be able to see the complete puzzle anyways and he knew the missing piece could only be received from one person – you.

“It’s a mutual concern of ours and we are just looking out for you.” She gave him a few pats of comfort, for what he had yet to find out, “God knows my husband would be devastated if I didn’t want kids.”

San listened silently, the frown on his face deepening with each word.

Did your sister not want kids?

He followed her line of vision leading straight to you and then it hit him.

You didn’t want kids.

The images of San holding a toddler that was the spitting image of him; a head too big for its body, chubby cheeks and faint brows, haunted you every night. Some dreams were more vivid than others, but they were never the same. The most recent one was of the three of you taking a walk in the park. The little girl sat on San’s shoulders wearing a purple hat with cat ears while you trailed behind them, a matching bag around your shoulder and a camera in your hands. As San turned around you caught a glimpse of their bright smiles and identical dimples. The girl saw you and stretched her arms out, a giddy ‘mom!’ tumbling out of her mouth.

That’s when you woke up in a puddle of sweat. You could barely catch your own breath as you jumped out of bed, nearly toppling to the floor in the process.

A cloud of guilt and shame loomed over you for various reasons. Mainly for dreaming of a future you could not see for yourself. It got to the point where you stayed up all night just to avoid the dreams. You picked up more shifts at the office, working late nights and early mornings, and it was a success until you cleared your whole schedule. Then came the idea of starting a new hobby; crocheting but your patience ran out rather quickly, who knew learning a double crochet would be so difficult?

Your guilty conscience affected your relationship with San too. Dates were painfully awkward as if you were a high school couple going on your first outing together, stealing shy glances and looking away as soon as your eyes met.

Then it was the skinship, whenever you accidentally touched fingers or feet collided underneath the dinner table, you’d withdraw so quickly as if burned by the scorch of a hundred suns. It was almost foreign to cuddle up on the couch too, San’s hands on your lower back and your cheek against his chest. At first you didn’t think he noticed the change in your behavior, but as you laid on top of him you could feel his heart rapidly beat in your ear and hands ghost over your skin, a trail of goosebumps following his faint touch.

Neither dared to speak up about the thick tension, assuming it would all go away in due time but the closer you got to the date of Ateez leaving for their tour in Latin America, the less likely it was to subdue.

Little did you know San wasn’t feeling any better himself. Hana’s words played in his head on a loop, creating new presumptions of what she meant. She wasn’t that straightforward with her message and San could’ve either pieced together the wrong information or been completely spot on. He’d never know if he never asked, which proved to be harder than expected.

The few times your schedules aligned you were interrupted by San’s phone – Seonghwa and Mingi checking if he was dining at yours or with them – and if it weren’t that then it was something else. The days he made sure nothing could interrupt he’d chicken out last minute and smoothly avert the attention to anything remotely more interesting.

“Did you see Mingi’s new hair color?”

“I made Jongho promise to teach you how to break an apple in half!”

“Yeosang wants to buy a puppy!”

The confidence San possessed on stage in front of thousands was plummeting to the ground. Hard and fast. It honestly baffled him how much control one person could hold over him. Not that he complained, who was supposed to make his knees weak and brain all mushy besides you?

Knees weak and mushy brain was exactly how he felt as you opened the door, revealing yourself. You wore a black and white striped sweater with a black skirt stopping midthigh. The top was slightly big so you tucked it in your skirt. A small dark bag hung over your shoulder matching your leather boots. Simple yet elegant jewelry adorned your fingers and ears. You topped it off with black see-through stockings and black coat.

“Is this too much for a night out?”

You were stunning.

“It’s perfect, babe.”

He handed you a beautiful bouquet of pink and red roses mixed with fillers, the brown paper gave them an old school look. You suppressed a squeal of joy and took the flowers from him, planning to put them in a vase, but not before planting a quick and shy kiss to the apple of his cheek. Your lipstick smeared on his skin almost camouflaging with the redness crawling up his neck, attacking his ears and cheeks, luckily for him you bolted to the kitchen, embarrassed at your own gesture.

You truly were like a pair of high schoolers, but for once you didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Perhaps it was your consciousness pushing the thoughts away for the night as it was your last date before San left overseas.

“Ready to go?”

San was breathtaking.

It was no surprise that your boyfriend was a work of art, but there was something different about him tonight. Dark slacks accented his hard thighs a black turtleneck covered his bulging arms and slim waist with a gray coat hung snuggly over his frame reaching his calves. You always said his natural hair color suited him the best and it was true, especially when it was slicked back with a few strands falling over his exposed forehead.

You gulped harshly, “Yup.”

You placed your hand in his and smiled as his fingers thread through yours like the roots of a tree becoming one with the earth. Giddy smiles hid behind your masks but the sparkle in your eyes was brighter than the night sky and its million stars.

San stuffed your woven hands in the pocket of his large coat for the short walk to his manager’s car and then his hand found its long lost place on your thigh during the drive to your favorite restaurant.

You were addicted to his reassuring words and mellow touches.

San held his breath and was fully prepared to feel your body still at the skinship or for you to slowly pull away, but when you did the complete opposite – tightening your hold on his hand – he exhaled in relief.

The restaurant was made for celebrities to have somewhere to go and enjoy their time without noisy people and overbearing fans. They even had a no phone policy to maximize the safety and privacy of everyone inside, that way the possibility of scandals coming out were zero to none. It wasn’t everyday you went on expensive dates for obvious reasons, mainly because of San’s schedule but also because you felt bad for him paying every time. It was no secret San earned more money than you, being a literal idol, but you still made it work somehow.

For the first time in a while you felt good beside him. The unsettling dreams and thoughts of the future were as if non-existent and you didn’t want it any other way, at least for the night. Halfway through your second glass of wine San started blabbering about the tour. You wouldn’t say he was drunk, but rather relaxed.

“So where are you going first?”

He thought for a minute, “Mexico, Brazil, Chile and then Colombia.”

“Isn’t it your first time performing there? That must be exciting!”

“Mhm, I can’t wait to see our Latin American Atinys. I know some of them have been with us since predebut. Honestly I’d travel around the world just to meet them all.”

“That’d be the dream wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “It’d be even better if you were there with me.”

His small pout and glistening eyes made you laugh, “Because that’d be such a good idea. I can bet all my life savings it would end up in a disaster one way or another.”

“What? Why?”

You placed your utensils down, “San, honey. I don’t think you realize how popular you are, like all of twitter wants to fuck you.”

San stopped mid chewing, his eyes wide and brows raised to the roof. The loading wheel appeared above him and he smiled embarrassingly as your words finally registered, his teeth white but the tips of his ears burned red.

“Yah, don’t say that.” He suddenly looked away as if he wasn’t showered with compliments on a daily basis.

“Well it’s Atinys’ words, not mine.”

“You jealous?”

The cheekiness didn’t go unnoticed by you so in an equally teasing tone, you replied, “I can’t be jealous of something I actually get to do.”

And if there was anything better than a tipsy San then it was a flustered one.

“You shy, baby?”

He shook his head with a little ‘no’ that barely reached your ears.

The rest of the date was perfect – much to your surprise – and not once did the guilt ridden thoughts infiltrate your mind, not even when you passed a happy couple pushing a stroller on your way home or when you saw, what must have been, the biggest smile of the night on San’s handsome face. For a split second you thought everything would work out in the end. You’d overcome this obstacle just like you did with the move to Seoul or with the test you nailed after months of pulling all-nighters. But only for a split second because as the clock struck midnight your night took an unexpected turn with it.

“You need a place to stay for the night?” It came out more suggestive than you intended, however you didn’t mind.

“I don’t know, did you plan to sleep tonight?”

Your pointer finger rested against your chin as you pretended to think.

“If that’s the case then you won’t be getting any sleep tonight.”

A pair of very familiar hands grabbed your hips sending an electric feeling through your body despite the skirt separating your skin from touching. Your bodies fit like two pieces of a missing puzzle.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you replied and threw your head back against the crook of his neck.

“Good.”

You were a feather in San’s hand and he treated you with care. Never too rough or foul, always considerate and kind but not opposed to it if you asked. He spun you around and stared at you with a million stars in his eyes, completely and utterly lost in the beautiful galaxy that is you.

San cupped your cheek and traced your bottom lip with his thumb. His touch stopped at the corner of your mouth, his eyes widened as you lightly bit down on his finger. Your warm tongue against his cold skin. Your parted lips pulled into a smirk and it spurred San to push his thumb deeper in your mouth, now laying completely flat against the wet muscle. The innocent yet sultry bat of your eyes drove him crazy.

Reassuring words and mellow touches.

He wanted you. He wanted to lick and nip at your skin, paint it full of violet and crimson clover. Make your writhe and turn in his hold until breathless pleas filled your apartment. He craved you beneath him, bare and vulnerable while he worshiped your body with praises and sinful words. He wanted to make love to you.

Yet he couldn’t.

Not when you were both haunted by your thoughts.

He slipped his thumb from your mouth taking the sexual atmosphere with it.

“Love?”

His eyes snapped to yours and he knew then and there that the art of love wouldn’t solve any of your worries, because at the end of the night he’d still travel halfway across the world with the nagging thoughts packed between his briefs and socks.

“Is everything alright?” You gently latched onto his wrist, thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“I love you,” San suddenly confessed.

A crease formed between your brows, lips glued together and eyes almost glossy. You were taken back at the sweet words but even more so at the way he was looking at you – almost sad.

“Where is this coming from?”

“I love you,” he repeated.

The scene wasn’t a sense of deja-vu, that much you knew, but rather a memory from a few weeks ago. A memory that was much sweeter and domestic than now. The response San expected to hear didn’t come as quickly as he hoped and through his tipsy vision he recognized a moment of hesitation.

“Honey?”

“I love you too, San.”

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” He suddenly asked.

The loving touches and flirty banter went down the drain and you were left with a silence so loud and overwhelming you couldn’t think properly.

“What?”

“I said, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean something’s got you distracted.”

“There’s nothing going on,” you insisted stubbornly.

“Absolutely nothing?”

“San…everything's fine.”

“Except it isn't! I know you enough to see the changes. You barely sleep and this is the first time in days where I’ve seen you with a real smile.”

It broke his heart to see you slink from his embrace. Arms crossing over your chest and head turning sideway.

“Honey, please talk to me.” He sounded desperate.

“And I am. There’s nothing wrong.”

He raked his hand through his hair. The deep sigh whirling around your apartment.

“Don’t lie. Not to me.”

You stayed silent yet again.

“I’m here for you, always will be.”

“I can’t,” you whispered into the august breeze.

“What?”

“I can’t tell you,” you repeated a little louder.

“Why?”

“Because you’ll hate me!” It stung San into silence. “You’ll hate me and never want to speak to me again.”

He hungered for your touch, hands itching to reach for yours and as he took a step forward you took one back.

“You can’t keep it bottled up forever, love.”

“I can try.”

Tears formed in your eyes and your voice cracked. You tried blinking them away but they raced down your cheeks against your will.

“C’mere.”

That was all it took for you to fling yourself at him. Your hands gripped the back of his shirt, nails digging into the expensive material. One hand cradled the back of your head and the other supported your back, rubbing gentle circles against your knitted sweater. San leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your crown, lingering and breathing in the sweet scent of you.

“I can’t breathe without you by my side so if you think I’ll ever hate you, you’re wrong. My love, you could break my heart a thousand times over and I’d still find reason to love you.”

Hot tears soaked into his shirt and you wanted to disagree but the tremble of your lips told you to be quiet so you shook your head violently instead.

You stood there for a long time, in each other’s arms with soft kisses and soothing touches. The emotions swirling around the apartment were too big for your shoulders and the rational part of you knew that you wouldn’t be able to carry them with you much longer.

“I don’t want children.”

It was interesting how a four worded sentence could either be the demise or rise of a relationship. What path your and San’s would take was yet to be determined, but God did you hope it was the latter.

The argument broke out three days ago and while you've gone months without seeing each other, these 72 hours were by far the most excruciating period of your relationship. You didn’t ever think there’d be a person you’d miss this much. To see and hold, kiss and laugh with.

The first day was spent bathing in your own tears and snot. You were forced out of work by your co-workers as they didn’t buy your lie of ‘everything being alright’. It wasn’t like you could tell them your idol boyfriend of three years ran head first out of your apartment after an argument, absolutely not because you literally told him to give you space. So from nine am to nine pm you were cooped up in your bed, crying, scrolling through your socials, crying some more until you eventually fell asleep.

The second day wasn’t anything better, except for the three tubs of ice cream you inhaled. They were kept in the back of your freezer for emergencies such as these. With a quick pat on the back for eating something you pushed the containers aside and continued your self wallowing, dressed in one of your (San’s) hoodies that smelled of caramelized sugar. Your phone blew up with calls from your family. Everyone concerned about you suddenly going MIA, but not enough to pay you a visit which you were both thankful and bitter about.

The third following morning came around and you decided that it was time to get your shit together. You still had a job to return to and bills to pay. It was all going well too, you cleaned the apartment and got rid of all the empty ice cream tubs, made a home cooked meal for the first time in three days, you even changed your bedsheets and did the laundry. The last thing on your list was a well deserved full-body shower.

The frantic ring of your doorbell fell on deaf ears as water pattered on your bare body and the tiled floor. Your fingers worked through your hair, rubbing almost painfully at your scalp as shampoo water went down the drain.

It was first after you cut the stream and stepped out of the shower that you realized someone was at the door. With a roll of your eyes, you leisurely squeezed the excess water out of your hair and wrapped a towel around yourself. The chime of the bell didn’t stop and you were on the brink of insanity.

There were only two people with keys to your place; San and your mom.

Your parents had no reason for coming all the way to Seoul in the middle of the day and San…even though your relationship wasn’t in the best shape you knew he’d never turn up unannounced, whether he told you by call or text didn’t matter as long as he reached out. He said it was a way of respecting your privacy and as much as you didn’t care for that, it was heartwarming.

6:30 PM glared the digital clock on the console table in the hallway.

All you wanted was one normal day. A morning without spilling coffee on your clean clothes, an afternoon without stubbing your toe on the desk in your office and a night without someone trying to sell you cookies or whatnot. It’d also be so much easier to crawl beneath your sheets and cry yourself to sleep without a maniac creating the newest billboard hit outside your apartment, but hey each to their own.

As much as you wanted to swing the door open and bark out profanities at the nuisance, you knew better and opted with looking through the peeping hole. Never did you expect a soaked San to stand there, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet while desperately abusing the doorbell.

San didn’t have time to react, neither at the door being opened nor for you appearing with only a towel. You took hold of his hand and dragged him inside to which he shut the door behind him and somehow managed to take off his shoes. You threw him a spare towel and disappeared in your room. San stood there like a kicked dog, ears flat against his head and tail certainly not wagging. A few seconds later you returned dressed in one of San’s many t-shirts and your pajama shorts, carrying a change of clothes.

You wordlessly gave them to him and escaped to your room again. San took that as his queue to get dressed.

The run to your apartment gave him barely any time to collect his thoughts, too busy with providing his burning lungs with air and keeping an eye out for cars and potential followers. So now that he stood, not in front of your door, but in your living room he was completely shitting his pants.

The cold and distant facade you managed to pull off in front of him crumbled the second you crossed the threshold of your room. You really strained all seventeen of your muscles not to cry and you could argue it was your best accomplishment yet as not a single tear kissed your cheeks.

“Hey.”

You looked up from your spot on the bed. Staring at your partner who stopped by the door. Your throat was dry and itchy, brain indiciseive of what to say and do. He wasn’t supposed to be here, that much you knew. Their agency had this weird rule of not allowing their idols out a day prior to their tour and it didn’t sit right with you knowing he went against their words, for you nonetheless.

“San, what are you doing here?”

Unsteady sleeping schedules, caffeine filled drinks and insomnia were the standard for idols. Anyone claiming otherwise was either lying straight through their teeth or had a great planning method something San could really use these days.

San was no stranger to succumbing to sleep at the early hours of the morning or not sleeping at all. The extra time was usually put into practice or perfecting his secret project, and sometimes something simple as laying in bed staring up at the ceiling.

But now it was hard to do any of that with you taking over his every thought. He found himself wondering about things that weren’t supposed to infiltrate his mind for the next five years.

Get married. Move in. Adopt a cat. Have kids.

A short list of things that were crossing the line between adolescence and adulthood.

The image of you and San doing that together spread a radiant smile across his face and his roommates, clueless as ever, couldn’t stop their own mouths from curving upwards. There was truly no other person he could think of doing any of that with and his heart was heavy as he realized he may never complete the list.

It took three calls from Seonghwa for San to acknowledge the older man sitting on the edge of his bed beside the open and empty suitcase.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Seonghwa leaned back on his arms keeping him from completely falling on the bed and stared at San’s computer screen, nonchalantly watching as he played one of his many games. The elder had come straight out of his own room from finishing a youtube live – a youtube live San crashed for a good fifteen minutes before abruptly leaving – and although Atiny probably didn’t notice the change of behavior in the younger Ateez member, Seonghwa did.

San sighed as the last character of his team died and the word ‘defeat’ flashed in large capital letters took over the majority of the screen.

“San-ah.”

Said man placed his expensive headset on the desk and twirled in his chair, and Seonghwa had a feeling the glum look on his features wasn’t from losing the game.

“I’m not saying you aren’t. I’m just checking if there’s something bothering you. Something I can help you with?”

The prolonged silence did nothing to soothe Seonghwa’s worries. He closely watched the hesitation slowly crack through San’s facade – bottom lip caught between his teeth, picking at his nails and eyes glazed over, darting literally everywhere except at Seonghwa.

Cautiously, he asked if it had something to do with you and his suspicion was confirmed when their eyes met.

“It’s…complicated.”

“How so?”

“Because I thought of a thing and it turns out I was right.”

Seonghwa tried asking as few questions as possible to not overwhelm San, but the conversation wasn’t giving him much to work with.

“And what were you thinking about?”

San ran his hands through his black hair and looked as if he was racking his brains, he then violently rubbed at his eyes too. It was one thing to think about the whole situation and another to say it out loud, possibly speaking it into existence.

“You don’t have to te–”

“Starting a family.”

The trip to your hometown really did a number on him, Seonghwa thought.

Cheeks red and palms sweaty, San cleared his throat. A little embarrassed at the confession and for cutting Seonghwa off so abruptly.

“I was thinking of what it’d be like to start a family with her.”

“Starting a what with who?”

Mingi stood in the doorway with parted lips and eyebrows raised to the roof, wet tufts of blonde and black hair peeked from underneath the towel on his head.

“It was just a thought.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with it,” Seonghwa assured.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter.”

“How come?” Mingi pressed, now leaning against the door.

“Because she doesn’t want a family…or well, at least not kids.”

Seonghwa and Mingi exchanged glances. All of Ateez knew of San’s adoration for kids. Heck, Seonghwa had front row seats to it and all. He remembered thinking how skilled San was with the twins and even with the energized boy.

But none of it mattered now. If what San said was true – which he had no doubts about – then your choice went above everyone else’s, including San’s.

“And how do you feel about that?”

San looked at the eldest. “There’s nothing I can do about it. I mean, sure I love kids I do, but I love her more.”

“Then I don’t see what the issue is,” Mingi chimed in.

“It’s still a bitter situation Mingi, and Sannie has the right to feel…upset. Have you talked to her?”

San groaned and buried his face in the palms of his hands, thinking back how it all escalated so quickly. The split second he tried processing everything, you’d already decided it was time for him to leave and pushed him out, crying how you needed to be alone. Too stunned to properly react, San did as told.

“I walked out…”

Dread filled their guts as Mingi and Seonghwa patiently waited for the remainder of the story. They hoped San wouldn’t say what they were thinking.

“She confided in me at first and then pushed me away, screaming at me to go and I…listened. ”

“Well that changes the trajectory of things don’t you think?” Mingi said after the minute long silence and Seonghwa shot him a pointed look.

“San, we are not leaving for the tour until you talk to her,” Seonghwa declared.

The elder had no lover of his own, but he had seen enough movies to know how these situations ended. Spoiler alert: a painful break up for both parties.

San shrugged, “I’m sure Hongjoong would like that.”

“And you don’t think your girlfriend would? Listen here. We’re supposed to leave for the airport at seven am, I’ll give you the night if you make amends.”

Seonghwa stopped before San, a wide smile on his gorgeous face. “Besides, a family doesn’t become a family when a child is brought into it. If you think about it, the three of us and the rest of the guys are like a family, right?”

“We are a family,” Mingi corrected.

“Exactly. So who’s to say you two aren’t one too?”

“I’m here to do what I should’ve done days ago.”

It was hard to look him in the eye. The sincerity in them had your heart in knots, tugging and tightening with your every breath.

“Can I come in?”

San had his arms by his side and hands balled into fists to keep them from trembling. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d be in his arms by the end of the night, but it didn’t stop his pulse from skyrocketing.

“You’re already here.”

A faint, appreciative smile crossed his features as he gingerly took the seat beside you. There was no real malice to your words and he was thankful because honestly speaking he wouldn’t know what to make of it if you still needed ‘time’. San straightened and breathed out a sigh as if letting go of all his nerves.

“I want to start by saying; I’m sorry.”

You snapped your head towards him, confused as to why he was the one apologizing. You were the issue at hand here. You were the one depriving him of something he wished for, you pushed him away. Not the other way around.

“I’m really sorry for pressuring you–”

“San, no–” You shook your head, tears already threatening to make their dramatic entrance.

“Just listen to me, please.”

And his desperate plea was their queue to waltz in much to your dismay.

San lifted your chin so he could see your face and frowned at the tears. “I'm sorry if I ever made you feel obliged to push your feelings aside for me. That has never been my intention and it never will be.”

He cupped your face gently in both hands and wiped away your remaining tears with his thumbs. It pained him to know the tears were inflicted by his doing.

“I love you.”

“San,” you whimpered, barely able to get the word out.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just breathe for me. I’m not leaving.”

That was your breaking point. You heaved for air as more tears blurred your vision. A heavy weight lifted off your shoulders as you found solace in his words and San felt his own heart break at your wails. Feeling embarrassed you abruptly stood up and put a hand over your mouth to stop the broken cries. Staying true to his words, San hugged you from behind and pressed you into his embrace. Chin resting against your shoulder as his arms went around your waist. You stood like that until your tears ran dry and cries turned into hiccups.

San whispered words of encouragement in your ear, lips grazing the skin with each pronunciation. Your feet moved with his as he maneuvered you to bed and under the covers. A meteor could hit the earth and he wouldn't leave your side. You laid there in silence with your back to his chest. His arm under your neck and the other curled around your waist, keeping you flushed against his front. Your occasional sniffles filled the gaps letting San know you were awake.

“My love,” he started and you shifted as a reply of acknowledgement, “remember that night at your parents’ house? When your mother said something to upset you and you stormed up to your room?”

You nodded while playing with his fingers spread across your abdomen.

“Do you remember what I told you?”

“That you loved me and nothing would change that.”

He kissed the back of your head. “I still stand by that. I love you. Not what you can or can’t give me. I love you when you cry and I love you when you laugh. I love you through your anger and grief. I love your kindness and selflessness.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, please. You should only apologize when you’ve done something wrong.”

“But I led you on. San, we want different things. You want a child–” your voice cracked and you drew in a sharp breath, “–and that’s not something I’m sure I can give you, ever.”

“That’s not true.” He sat up and leaned over your body, “I wanna cuddle you to sleep and wake you with breakfast in bed. I want us to buy furniture and assemble it together only to give up halfway through. I want us to bake a ridiculous cake that ends up in a flour fight. I want all of that with you!”

San planted a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“Children or not, it won’t change the fact that I love you and I’ll continue to say it until all the trees are cut down, until the ocean dries out and all the stars go out. I love you. Always have and always will.”

His caring words drew a smile from you and the harsh knot around your heart slowly came undone. His affectionate eyes searched yours and he’d wait an eternity for your answer, but you didn’t need more time to know what you wanted. Your hands caressed the sides of his neck and with a quick pull of his neck, your lips clashed in a passionate kiss.

Reassuring words and mellow touches.

545 notes · View notes

pyramid-of-starrs · 3 months

Text

Only text me when you need me

Pairing: fwb!Yeosang x Afab!reader

Genre: Smut, angst, non idol, fluff at the end

Summary: You and Yeosang have been good fwb for a while and he invites you over for a shower together.

Warning: feelings, avoiding feelings

Smut warning: unprotected sex, bathtub sex (Kinda unrealistic too), creampie

A/N: So lol I'm back, had to take a mental break but I'm back and working on request and a new chapter to my series I also now have a kofi ^_^

MINORS DNI

💚: You up? You: Could you be more Cliche? 💚: I’ll take that as a yes 💚: What are you doing? You: Just about to take a shower, what about you? 💚: Come take one here, then you can stay over You: Someone is being thirsty tonight 💚: What can I say? I miss you... You: Bye Yeo, you only hit me up when you need some 💚: Well? You: W.e I'll be there soon

You sighed to yourself, you were weak to Yeosang and his advances. You were going through a bad break up when you met Yeosang at a bar, your friends encouraged you to finally experience your hoe phase since you had been with your ex for so long. You were real with Yeosang and he gave you his number and told you to only text when you need him, and he'll do the same. One good night with him led to lots more until he became number 1 on your roster. Calling and texting each other when you felt even the slightest pang of loneliness or even when your other sneaky links became boring or didn't fulfill your needs. Yeosang was a little different, he didn't just feel like a warm body, but that thought was heading into sneaky link dangerous territory, friends with benefits always have the rule of no feelings and you were determined to not be the one to fuck this up. You threw on a simple grey jogging suit with nothing under, you also packed a small "spend the night bag" because you knew Yeosang was a literal person, and he would really be expecting you to shower and stay at his place.

...

You rang the buzzer to his penthouse apartment, and he let you up. You got to the door and knocked, and his roommate Yunho answered.

"Y/N hey how are you?" He asked as he smiled at you, Yunho was like a golden retriever in 6'3 man form, literal walking boyfriend but sadly he was very taken.

"I'm good, how are you?" You replied as he welcomed you into the penthouse apartment, it was so big and nice, but you can absolutely tell it was only men occupying the space. Just a couch in the living room with no other furniture or other decor, in desperate need of some love.

"Good, I'm heading out to my girlfriends, I yelled for Yeo that you were here, or you can head back. I'll see you later." Yunho waved before heading out the door, he probably didn't want to overhear the shenanigans. You took off your shoes and headed down the hall to Yeosang’s room, knocking before you entered. "Yeosang I'm here." You said as you entered.

"Glad you made it." He was smiling shirtless you scanned his body and realized he only had a towel tightly wrapped around his waist and it kind of made you giggle.

"Why are you wearing just a towel?" you continued to chuckle.

"You came to shower right? Come on and get undressed." He said gathering more of his items to bathe, then handing you a towel to wrap up. You placed your bag on the bed and got undressed and wrapped the towel around your body and put your hair up in a claw clip. He grabbed your hand and led you into his huge bathroom with a bay window overlooking the city connected to his room inside was a large tub by the large window filled with hot water with bubbles. Yeosang sat his phone down and played soft music off of it, the entire situation was actually pretty relaxing and romantic

"I thought we were showering?" you asked nervously, this situation was a bit intense for fuck buddies.

"Yeah, but showers together are hot but can be awkward, this way we can at least relax. We both have been working a lot and need the stress relief; besides you told me your other guys haven't been doing the job and it's the same for me right now so maybe this could help us let off some steam." A flirty smirk was on his face as he winked. You and Yeosang was very open with each other, you had to be if you were going to be having sex, so of course he knew when you slept with other guys and vice versa. He was first to drop his towel and get in then you followed his lead.

...

You were a bit hesitant at first at the thought of a very intimate kind of romantic situation, but this was actually nice. Sitting, talking and relaxing as Yeosang peppered kisses down your neck occasionally while his hands rubbed water and bubbles slowly on your body. He stimulated your mind and body, you felt so hot besides the hot water against your skin. Your eyes closed and your head sat back on his strong chest every time he brushed past your sensitive nipples.

"You seem calm now." He said, his lips close to you, you could even feel the flirty smile on your ear, you both giggled.

"This did calm me down, but you on the other hand seem very excited." You were trying to keep calm with the nice setting, Yeo even dimmed the lights in the bathroom and changed the led to red, but you just couldn't keep yourself fully normal with his hard dick pressing into your ass in the hot water. Between his hands rubbing you, the kissing and you anticipating how good he was going to fuck you, you were driving yourself crazy and it seemed like he was thinking the same.

He slowly dragged his hand out of the water up the length of your body and up to your neck, you moved your head with his hand as he gripped your chin and tilted it to the side. You could feel his breath down your neck, you closed your eyes again as his lips softly connected to your neck, he started to kiss down the length of your neck as your hips slowly rolled against his erection. Sensually wasn't supposed to be the word you wanted to use for this but how couldn't you. Everything felt so good, so right, so dangerous. "How could I not be excited with you basically melting into my lap right now?" He left a few more delicate kisses on your cheek before you turned and captured his lips. A few light kisses eventually turned into a full on make out session, the bubbles slide down your body as you leaned more into the kiss, tongues dances as the kiss deepened. You fully turned to face Yeo straddling him, you could feel his length start to press against your core as he wrapped his arms around you. The kiss began again before he started to trail his lips down your neck then your shoulders until he reached your hard nipples. He gave them a few pecks to clear the suds then dove in to start to suck them, you moaned while you bit your lip, your hips fully grinding on him and his dick brushing your clit. You loved his slow foreplay, this was Yeosangs game, he likes to draw things out, slow and steady wins the race. He makes you want need more of him, but with your mind going 1000 miles a minute and every single one of them being him you needed to get things started. You removed one of your hands from his shoulders then reached into the water to grab his cock, he hissed and released your nipple at the sudden motion.

You lifted off of him slightly. "Wait Y/N, I'm still getting you ready, are you that needy love?" He said in his deep and soothing voice.

"What if I say I am?" you smirked at him and he gave you a smile back, you gave each other a peck on the lips as you lined his dick up with your entrance and eased down his length. You moaned into his mouth as he bottomed inside you, Yeo is admittedly not the biggest dick you've had but damn did it sit perfectly in your pussy, almost like he was made for you, but again that's dangerous thinking. His arms wrapped around your waist to slowly encourage you to move your hips. You both kept the tempo slow to not splash the water to much and to fit the overall vibes, He met your hips and fucked up into you when you would come back down on his dick. He watched you ride him with his boba eyes, and you avoided his powerful eye contact as much as possible, you threw your head back and let out a few curse words before coming back forward and dropping onto his shoulder. He rubbed your back to soothe you, the closeness caused your clit to rub against his pelvis which had you nearing your edge. You started to moan into his ear "Fuck Yeo I'm gonna cum." He sped up a bit but not too much, he didn't want to fuck up the rhythm, just wanted to make sure you came for him.

"Go ahead baby, let it out for me, let me see you-" You interrupted his request to wrap your arms around his neck and start to ride him faster, you just couldn't afford to see him right now.

"Fuck...fuck, ngh FUCK." was all you could say as your continued to bounce on him as you felt yourself coming undone, your slick mixing with the water and bubbles. The thoughts didn't do away though, you just want to keep going, you lied to yourself saying it was because you were still horny but in reality, it was because you wanted him all to yourself. You both knew you had other hoes but in reality, you stopped talking to most yours and only very rarely see them anymore, no man, woman or person could hold a candle to Yeosang, and you both loved and hated that. He littered your every thought, you've never been this dick whipped in your life, this was sad! You needed to stay focus on not fucking this up, before he could say anything, you snapped out of your thought and felt his dick twitch inside you. You released his neck and grabbed both sides of his face to deeply kiss him.

He was confused by the random kiss but didn't stop you. "What's going on with you Y/n?" He asked as he started to pick up on your out of the ordinary behavior.

"Nothing!" You said in a suspiciously high-pitched voice, you removed your aching cunt off of his dick and moved to your knees on the other side of the tub facing the large window, you wiggled your bubble covered ass in his direction. "Now hurry up, we aren't done yet." You mocked as your folded your arms on the rim and turned your head to face him.

He chuckled at you but obeyed, he made his way over to you and gripped both your hips with his wet hands. You could feel his hard dick begging to penetrate you as he teased his tip at your entrance. "You sure you're good?" he asked again.

"Yes Yeosang, not please just fuu~" He started to slide his length into you, his cock glided into you with perfect ease, and he immediately fell into motion. He had a firm grip on both sides of you, your breast dangling above the water as his hips met your ass at a picking up rate, you moaned and occasionally let out curse words, still feeling the sensation of your first orgasm. You couldn't help but to look back and steal glances at the obscenely beautiful man that was digging into your guts. Was it really your fault for falling for the literal son of Aphrodite? You watched as he had laser focus on watching where both your parts connected, the water and bubbles sliding down his chiseled body and huge arms, the sweat on his forehead that would make his hair stick and he would have to take breaks to brush it out of his eyes, his tan skin from traveling with his friends, the visuals alone had your close to your peak. He felt your googly eyes and looked up, a very brief moment of eye contact while he was still pumping inside you made your neck snap back forward and he raised his eyebrow. His stroking started to stutter as he looked at you with confusion.

"Y/N... look at me." His gripped got tighter and his eyes burned the back of your head, you were cooked. You felt him lean forward and press his chest into your back, his dick pressing even deeper into you and his cockhead hit your spot making you yelp. He gripped one of your breasts and whispered into your ear. "Look at me gorgeous, let me watch you cum all over my cock." He bit your ear, and you were getting closer, you had to give in. You turned to him with the softest eyes, he could see your vulnerability and he felt himself melt but unlike you he could snap out of it. His hips started to move faster as he hammered into you, you squeezed your eyes shut and he gripped your chin. "No baby, watch me while I fill you up." You fought the urge to keep your eyes closed and opened them, meeting his hungry gaze, it felt like he wanted to devour you whole.

"cum... I'm going to cum...ah" You managed to get out.

"I know baby, let's cum together, you're taking me so good." You loved when he talked you through your orgasm. You started to contract around his dick, your edge was right there, his pace didn't slow down but it got sloppier since he was at his end soon too. His groans and whimpers were like music in your ears, and it made your pussy ring you looked at his beautiful worked up face in pure lust amongst other feelings.

"Kiss me please Yeo, kiss me." He nodded at your pleas and planted his lips on your, the kiss was wet and sloppy, teeth smashing into each other’s and spit dripping, his hips still pounding into you, only a few more strokes before he came deep inside you. You felt his cum hot and deep in you which made you coat his cock in your own slick. Yeosang breathed heavily as he laid on your back and you hung on the side of the tub. He eventually pulled out and he drained the tub so you two could shower off. You both dried off and changed into some night clothes, only the music filled the room, there was a comfortable silence for Yeosang but a hard one for you. Did he notice how off you were acting?

You both slipped into his bed, and he was the big spoon like usual, nuzzling himself into your hair and neck. Your mind was racing thinking about your feelings and feeling like you needed to compress those emotions. Yeosang felt you being twitchy and uneasy and opened his eyes.

"What's going on Y/N? Talk to me." He sat up in the bed and looked down on you.

You sighed; this was bound to happen at some point. "Yeo, I know we have been doing this for a while, but I wanted to know something..."

"Anything baby, what's up?"

You sat up as well and faced him, you took a breath. "Yeo... what are we? How do you feel about me?" You boldly asked.

He looked at you for a second before his lips started to quiver and he bit back a smile than burst into laughter.

"Yeosang, you asshole!" You hit his arm and quickly laid back down and cocooned yourself in the covers.

He continued to giggle at you then poked out his bottom lip at your tantrum. "Aww you are just too cute Y/N, please tell me that's not why you've been acting weird all night?"

"It is..." You said in a soft and muffled voice under the covers, feeling extra shy.

"Come out precious, I'm sorry for laughing." He cooed at you, but he could visibly see you shaking your head under the covers. "Fine." He laid down and hugged your cocoon. "I like you Y/N, a lot." Your heart skipped a beat, and you peeked your head from under the covers. "Before you ask, yes really."

You started to smile to yourself, hoping he wouldn't see you and tease you even more.

"So, are you finally ready to be mine?"

463 notes · View notes

beenbaanbuun · 3 months

Text

misunderstandings w/ san

words - some

genre - fluff/angst with a dash of nsfw but not smut

warnings - horny!san, soft!san, sad!reader, misunderstandings, san in grey sweatpants, mentions of sex, no actual sex/sexual acts, reader speaks in riddles and expects san to understand

it’s no surprise to anyone that san likes to be cosy and comfy

we’ve all seen that fuzzy great sweater that he always wears

that thing looks like it would send me to sleep within seconds of putting it on, but i digress…

another item of clothing he keeps close to his heart is sweat pants, more specifically grey ones

he says they’re just comfy, but you know exactly why he wears them

they cling to his thighs so nicely and leave very little to the imagination

sometimes just seeing him in them is enough to drive you insane

it’s even worse if he takes a shower before putting them on, because 9 times out of 10, that man is not putting underwear on with them

a shirt is also optional… apparently san just doesn’t like the way they feel when his skin is damp

personally, you think san just does it because he knows it drives you crazy

in fact, there’s been more than a few times when you’ve texted san throughout your day at work about how much you miss him

and shown up at the end of the day with him on your couch, just like that; half naked with sopping wet hair

and whilst ‘i miss you’ usually is just code for ‘i’m horny’, sometimes it just means you’re having a bad day and want to hold him close for the rest of the day

either way, you don’t mind showing up to your house with a half naked san on your couch

you’re about to get the best dick of your life, or incredibly soft cuddles

it all depends on your response to his obvious advances, although sometimes he isn’t the best at taking hints

“you’re home,” he opens his arms the moment you walk through the door, as if asking for a hug

you’re more than happy to oblige, dumping your bag on the floor and letting your tired body collapse onto his

it had been a frustrating day to say the least

your coworker had been off so her work had been passed to you, despite the fact that no one person would be able to do all of that by themselves

still, the boss expected it whether you complained or not

saying you were drained was an understatement

as your body connects with san’s, he grunts, but catches you effortlessly

“fucking hell, babe,” he squeezes you gently as he holds you to his chest, “careful, yeah?”

you nod half heartedly into the damp skin of his neck

“you’re naked,” you deadpan, snuggling into his warmth a little

you know what it means, but you haven’t quite decided whether that’s what you want or not

maybe sex would take your mind off the day behind you

or maybe it would overstimulate you and send you spiralling… who’s to know!

“hardly,” he replies, “i have my sweatpants on…”

“and what are the chances of there being something underneath,” you wait for his response, but he stays silent which tells you everything you need to know

not that you need any confirmation; you can feel his hardening dick pressing against your thigh

you decide then and there that no, sex definitely would not be the best option

the thought alone of the ache that would follow is enough to make you decide that you certainly could not handle it right now

“it’s covered, is it not?” he finally says through pouted lips

you sit up fully and look at him with a fed-up expression, hoping he gets the message

you’d never been too good at saying no to people

something along the lines of not wanting to disappoint people

usually you just dropped hints and hoped for the best; san usually understood sooner or later

“it’s rock hard against my leg, san,” you scoff, “i don’t think your sweatpants are going to stop me from feeling that…”

he shrugs with a smirk

“that sounds like a you problem,” he says, which is actually factually incorrect, “maybe you should do something to sort it out…”

you can’t help but sigh at his inability to take any sort of hint

“or maybe, you can take yourself up to the bathroom and get rid of the problem yourself!”

it’s more obvious that the glare you gave him previously

still, the smirk remains as though you’re just teasing him

he shakes his head with a grin

“but you’re literally right here,” he whines, “and the bathroom is all the way upstairs…”

“i’m not in the mood to ache right now, sannie,” you once again, drop a hint that he, once again, completely disregards

in fact your statement makes him smile, clearly happy with what your statement implies about how good he fucks you usually

“i’ll be gentle?”

“san!” you scold, frustrated that your rock-headed boyfriend can’t seem to understand that whether or not he was rough was not the issue here

“i’m just saying,” he puts his hands up defensively

you look down at him with tired eyes, frustrated tears forming in the corners as you grow tired of throwing hint after hint at him

as much as you hated saying ‘no’ so bluntly, you settle on the fact that you might have to

“san,” you start, taking a deep sigh to calm your nerves, “i’m trying to tell you that i don’t want to have sex right now.”

you have to force yourself to look at him

even though you know that he’ll be more than fine with that fact, you can’t help but feel a little guilty about it

and when you look up at him, you can’t help not notice that his face falls a little

not that he’s upset at you not wanting sex, he’s just upset that he clearly misread the situation

and maybe he feels a little (a lot) guilty for pushing so hard when, now that he thinks back on it, you actually weren’t that interested

“oh, baby,” he mumbles softly as he moves his hands to rest against your thighs that sit either side of hips, “bad kind of ‘i miss you’, huh?”

you nod

“the bad kind,” you respond with a shrug, as if you’re trying to pass it off as nothing

but of course, gentleman san would never let that happen

because your emotions are never nothing

“you should’ve told me straight away,” he scolds gently, “or maybe i should’ve asked…” he frowns, “either way, if i’d have known i’d never have pushed so hard… you know that, right?”

you nod ever so slightly

of course you should’ve told him straight away, but again, saying no is hard for you and the ever present fear of disappointment hangs over your head like a rain cloud

and while you were positive that nothing you did could ever disappoint san, there was still something in the back of your brain that told you otherwise

“of course i know that, sannie,” you pout, “but you know me…”

“hm, i do know you,” he mutters as he rubs gentle circles into your thighs, “and i know how scary saying no is, but it’s just me.”

just san… it’s just san

you nod, understanding exactly what he means

there’s no external judgement, or any judgement at all for that matter, because it’s just san

and san doesn’t care about these things

san just wants to make you happy and if sex wouldn’t make you happy, then san would happy live with blue balls for the night

you nod again, more enthusiastic this time

“it’s just you,” you give him a small smile, which he returns without even a second passing

“there’s that pretty smile,” he coos before shifting his hands to your waist and tugging you gently until you’re lay flat against his chest once more

and you’re happy to just lie there in silence as san trails his fingers up and down your spine to soothe you

he’s not asked about your day yet, and he probably won’t for a while, content to sit in silence and love you for now

and you’re content too

very content

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez fluff #ateez fic #ateez headcanons #ateez smut #san fic #san oneshot #san fluff #san x reader #ateez angst #san smut #san angst

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alxtiny · 28 days

Text

Lego Flowers | Park Seonghwa x Reader

Synopsis: where you and Seonghwa celebrate his birthday

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x gn!reader, idol au

Genre: fluff, comfort

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: maybe some sad thoughts

Notes: Posted at 11:17 pm 🥹🥹

masterlist

Seonghwa had been looking forward to his birthday for weeks. He anticipated spending his special day with you, relishing in the joy of having you all to himself. He had celebrated with the boys and other friends before, but this year was special, it was your fifth year together and he wanted it to be just the two of you.

However, as he returned from KCON in Hong Kong, he noticed the lack of mention of his birthday. You talked to him like usual but you never told him about your elaborate plans for his birthday as you did every year. Disappointment clouded his thoughts, he brushed it off at first , thinking perhaps you were planning a surprise for later, but as the time passed and the evening before approached, the absence of any acknowledgment gnawed at him.

With a heavy heart, Seonghwa wondered if your job had consumed you to the point of forgetting his special day. Doubt crept in, clouding his mind as he tried to reason with himself. Maybe you had just been too busy to remember. But deep down, a small voice whispered, "What if she forgot?"

As the night wore on, closer and closer to midnight, Seonghwa found himself at the company with the rest of ATEEZ, talking about old memories and trying to distract himself from the disappointment eating away at his insides.

Then, just as Seonghwa's hope began to fade, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. His heart skipped a beat as he saw your name illuminated on the screen. With trembling fingers, he answered, holding his breath in anticipation.

"Hello?" he spoke, his voice betraying the mix of emotions swirling within him.

"Seonghwa!" your voice rang through the line, sounding excited despite the heavy sleep lacing it. "Happy birthday!"

Relief flooded Seonghwa's senses, washing away the doubts and insecurities that had plagued him throughout the day. A smile spread across his face, genuine and heartfelt, as he listened to your words.

"Thank you," he replied, his voice light with gratitude.

"I wanted to be the first one to wish you, but I fell asleep," you said, yawning as convincing as possible “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you continued before ending the call abruptly, leaving a confused Seonghwa to stare at his phone, as more congratulatory messages popped up.

Finally, at three in the morning, after finishing up the small party at KQ, Seonghwa stepped into his dark, empty apartment, a pang of loneliness tugged at his heart. The lack of warmth irritated him, but the lingering scent of your perfume welcomed him, bringing a small smile to his lips, as he wondered if you were here in his absence. Seeing no point in turning on the lights, Seonghwa took off his shoes and with weary steps, he made his way further inside, his mind filled with thoughts of you and the day that had passed.

Turning away towards his bedroom, he heard a soft melody break through the silence, drawing Seonghwa's attention. His heart rate picked up, as your familiar oice softly singing "Happy Birthday" filled the air, growing louder with each passing moment. Turning slowly, his breath caught in his throat as he laid eyes on you, dressed up prettily in his favourite pink dress.

A gasp escaped his lips as he took in the sight of the cake in your hands, adorned with cute animal crossing characters that mirrored the joy in your eyes. "Surprise," you whispered, your voice filled with warmth and affection, beckoning him to quickly blow out the candles.

With trembling hands, Seonghwa leaned forward, his breath hitching as he extinguished the flickering flames. Darkness enveloped them once more, but this time, it was accompanied by the comforting glow of your presence.

As you turned on the lights, placing the cake delicately on the coffee table, you couldn't help but notice the glistening tears in Seonghwa's eyes. Panic surged within you, propelling you forward to wipe them away, concern etched on your features.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, your voice laced with worry as you searched his eyes for answers.

Seonghwa's voice wavered as he spoke, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. "I thought you forgot," he admitted, his words laced with vulnerability.

A surge of guilt washed over you as you realized the impact of your actions, shaking your head gently. "No no I would never," you affirmed, your voice filled with sincerity. "I could never ever let that happen, I’m sorry you felt that way."

You pinched his cheeks lightly, making him crack a smile and nuzzle his face into your hand. Pulling your hand away, you led him to the beautifully decorated dining table, Seonghwa's heart swelled with joy as he took in the beauty of the dining table, adorned with delicate lego flowers that brought a giggle to his lips. The sight of the freshly prepared food, each dish carefully chosen to cater to his tastes, filled him with warmth and gratitude.

As you both sat down to eat, the atmosphere was filled with laughter and conversation, the air tinged with a sense of contentment.

Seonghwa listened intently as you detailed the day out you had planned, animatedly explaining the reason behind each location and inciting excitement within him as his eyes sparkled at the prospect of an entire day with just the two of you. He thought back on the last few days and the wholesome moments he spent with you and the boys. Tears welled up in his eyes once again but they were no longer borne of sadness but of overwhelming happiness and gratitude.

After finishing the delicious meal, you served slices of cake and settled down on the couch together. With gentle hands, you passed him your gift, a painting that you had asked one of your friends to make. It was a wonderfully painted version of a candid picture Hongjoong took of the two of you a few months back, you both wore giddy smiles on your faces, while you looked at each other endearingly.

Seonghwa's breath caught in his throat as he took in the painting, his heart beating hard as he tried to control the surge of emotions he felt in that moment. Along with the painting was a small handmade album, a collection of all the beautiful moments you had shared together in the past year. Not just those but it held pictures that he didn’t even remember being taken, with you, he family and the rest of ATEEZ. The dam overflowed and tears sprung up from his eyes once more. He pulled you close, peppering your face with kisses and mumbling how much he loved you against your soft skin.

"You put so much effort into this," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

You shrugged, smiling softly, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I wanted to make sure you felt loved and cherished on your special day."

Seonghwa pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "You've succeeded beyond measure," he said, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"Thank you," he whispered, planting a kiss to your lips, his voice filled with emotion. "For everything. You've made this the best birthday I could ever ask for."

As you nestled against him, Seonghwa knew that there was nowhere else he would rather be than in your arms. In the cosy glow of the living room, with the early hours of morning getting nearer, you stayed curled up together, on the couch basking in the warmth of each other's presence. The hours ticked by, and you didn’t realise when exactly you fell asleep, listening to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, but you knew when you’d wake up, you’d be in the arms of your precious angel.

Seonghwa found himself feeling the same; he couldn't express this sense of contentment, he felt, unlike any other. He couldn’t wait for the morning to come, just so he’d be able to spend more time with you and subsequently make new memories for another birthday album to remember.

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

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gummygowon · 2 years

Text

back 2 u | park seonghwa

word count: 4.9k

genre: angst, fluff, arranaged marriage au with ceo!park seonghwa x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, relationship/marriage problems,

a/n: i have listened too much mitski while writing this omfg

taglist: @riboism @yunhvr

the last four years have been rough in terms of marriage. well, romantically at least.

you were unfortunately set up in an arranged marriage for the benefit of your father's company and the park family. to be honest, you somewhat had hopes for this marriage as park seonghwa, your now husband was fairly attractive and smart.

naive and younger you, hoped that seonghwa would try to make the most of this marriage and be romantic about it but so far your hopes were being crushed. your dates felt like business meetings at luxury restaurants and even your honeymoon felt too serious and so orderly.

you attempted to bring up the subject of seonghwa trying to be more romantic one night after dinner but he dismissed your feelings and said "things like that were a waste of time."

it was a little heart crushing to be honest but you accepted his explanation and spent your free time dreaming of romantic and heart warming moments with your husband.

however it was more heart crushing when every anniversary date you spent alone. one too many times he missed out on dinner because he got caught up with work. if you had the energy, you would've cursed him out for leaving you stranded at restaurants for two reasons. one, being that you absolutely hated eating out even if it was fine dining. you just really preferred home cooked meals over anything. and then two, leaving your own fucking wife on your anniversary was something worth screaming over.

eventually, you gave up on the idea of getting that sweet marriage life that you fantasized from movies and books. this lead to you never being in the house after work and getting up earlier and getting home later than seonghwa. sometimes you got up earlier than him intentionally to see if he would notice. to your observations, it seemed like he didn't even notice. he commented nothing on your lack of prescene around the house.

it infuriated you to be honest. you wanted seonghwa to show some sort of emotion to his wife rarely being home. hell, you would've taken him screaming at you at this point.

you accepted it though. seonghwa was merely a roommate that shared the same last name as you among other things. you stopped trying to get your husband to focus on you and turned your attention towards yourself.

weekends were spent at bars and clubs getting drunk with your best friends as you guys danced the night away. worries slipping away as you sipped on different colored cocktails each night.

you spent so much time with your friends that you didn't realize that yoon had scheduled a girls trip the weekend of your fifth anniversary with seonghwa.

you didn't even realize until seonghwa looked at you in shocked when you told him of your plans.

"are you not aware of what's happening this weekend?" seonghwa asked offended that you forgot as if he the right to be.

"what is it? is it another company party?" you respond not even bothering to look up at seonghwa as you sorted out your suitcase for the trip.

a scoff breaks through the air, "it's our fifth anniversary." seonghwa looks at you with his arms folded, expecting you to instantly forget your plans with your friends and come back to him.

you do the opposite.

you laugh. it was funny really. why did he care all of a sudden? he had no right questioning your decisions when he was the one too busy at work to even come to dinner the past years. fuck, you don't even the the last time seonghwa showed that he even cared. "yeah, we can just celebrate it when i get back i guess. it's not like i've spent the last four with you there anyways."

there was malice in your tone that seonghwa could feel. he was a little confused. he thought this whole time he was being a decent husband to you this whole time he was just busy person who had shit to do. seonghwa did pick up on your new daily routine but didn't comment on it. he didn't feel the need to question it. "what do you mean? we've spent them together."

the face you make towards him was priceless. you couldn't believe seonghwa was totally clueless about everything. "you're joking."

your husband didn't even respond, he just looked at you perplexed.

the blood in you was beginning to boil. "seonghwa, all four of our past anniversaries you weren't even there. you were busy with work. the first time, you overworked and didn't notice the time and the most recent one was that you went on a fucking last minute business trip to japan without even telling me."

now seonghwa was starting to get defensive. "it was last minute, i had no time-"

"seonghwa, you never fucking showed up to any of our dinner reservations!" you slam your hands down onto your suitcase, "do you even know that i hate eating at restaurants?"

maybe it was your reaction that left him stunned or maybe he genuinely didn't know. either way his lack of response got you even more heated. "see. you don't even fucking know your own wife."

"how can i get to know my wife, if she's not even home?" seonghwa retaliates, his voice increasing in volume.

"seonghwa, for the first two years of our marriage, i worked from home! just this year i stopped even coming home because what's the fucking point! you don't even talk to me unless it's related to work!"

at this point, tears were forming in your eyes that you fought so desperately to keep away but the cracks in your voice made it hard. you just wanted a successful marriage where the husband actually cared for his wife and took her out on dates to spoil her.

"i'm going to that jeju trip this weekend and if you really want to celebrate our anniversary you can plan that. i leave on friday and get back on tuesday morning." you manage to get out through the tears flowing down your face.

storming out your shared closet, you slam the bedroom door shut as you left your apartment to get out and clear your mind.

seonghwa watched in silence as you slammed your bedroom door shut. was he really this terrible of a husband? he did everything a husband should do he thought. he slept next to you everyday and joined you for meals when he can. what more could you ask of him?

he paced around the room out of stress. shit. he fucked up. seonghwa fucked up badly.

all this time, even before the marriage, seonghwa was content with marrying you. he thought you were brilliant and knew how to handle yourself and not to mention that you had the face of a goddess. he couldn't ask for more in a wife.

growing up, seonghwa's parents weren't the affectionate type of couple you would see on tv which is why he didn't think he was being a shitty husband. if anything he just never talked to you. which now that he thought about it, is lowkey fucked of him to do.

even after his stress pacing, seonghwa was still on edge after you left. he had a hard time expressing his feelings but damn he missed you. he missed waking up to you and seeing you before he fell asleep. seonghwa was content with you but failed to realize that you were never happy.

in a panic, seonghwa called his best friend and business partner, "hongjoong,"

"yes, seonghwa?" hongjoong picked up after the first ring. "you sound stressed, is something the matter?"

"i fucked up. i fucked up big time." a hand hand through his hair after he loosened his tie.

"did the meeting go to shit? what happened?" hongjoong asked his tone shifting to a more concerned and serious.

"fuck, no." he spat out a little too harshly. work was the last thing he wanted to talk about, "i think i pissed off y/n, like badly."

"you finally realized you're a shitty husband?"

"excuse me?" seonghwa snapped back, truly taken back after what his best friend said.

"what? don't act surprised hwa. i don't think you've ever spent a single anniversary with her. do you guys even have sex?"

"why would you- anyways, i tried to. work just got in the way." he weakly defended himself.

"park seonghwa, you idiot." he could hear hongjoong slap his forehead in frustration, "work is not more important than your own fucking wife! you should know this!"

"i realize that now. it's just i don't know. i noticed her never being home but i didn't think it was intentional."

"y/n stopped coming home?" hongjoong half-yelled into the phone.

"no, no. she's never awake or home when i'm home. it's like she's avoiding me on purpose."

"park seonghwa, you are the smartest man i have ever met yet so fucking dumb."

"she's doing it on purpose, you dumbass! she's testing you to see if you even care and obviously, you're failing it miserably."

"oh fuck."

"oh fuck is right."

there was a silence on the phone for a little bit. shit, he was fucked. like really fucked.

"how do i make it up to her? y/n is going to jeju with her friends for the weekend and she won't change her mind about going."

"isn't your anniversary this weekend though?"

"yes," seonghwa answered in defeat.

park seonghwa was a successful businessman. the new ceo to his father's company which so far has been doing exceptionally well under his care. he has had very few failures in his life but none of them could amount to the failure and guilt he was feeling at this moment.

he felt stupid for not taking your feeling seriously and pushing work to be his number one priority when it should have been you. seonghwa enjoyed his time with you, he didn't regret the arranged marriage one bit.

"you better get your shit together now and start planning then."

the following day after the argument, you made it known that you wanted nothing to do with seonghwa for a couple days. you made sure to come home when you knew seonghwa was fast asleep and left for work two hours early so you could get a head start on the day even though you were running on minimal hours of sleep.

you expected seonghwa to not even think twice of the fight. he was too much of a workalcholic to even spare you a second thought. however your husband was doing the exact opposite.

in his office, seonghwa was pacing around with different recipes in his hand as one of his younger friends sat on his desk watching him stress.

"why did you call me over here again?" wooyoung asked as he twirled one of the pens from his desk around his fingers.

"i need you to help me pick out a recipe to cook for y/n." seonghwa answered, his eyes never leaving the recipes.

"ok and why should i be here? i don't know anything about your wife." wooyoung stated bluntly.

seonghwa threw his hands down abruptly, "aren't you good at cooking? shouldn't you know a recipe or two?"

wooyoung got up from the desk, strolling over to seonghwa to pluck the recipes out of his hands, "yes, but it doesn't matter how extravagant you make the dish. if you want to make y/n happy, make her favorite meal. i can help you with that if you know what she likes."

a hum pushed it's way through seonghwa's throat as he paced around the room more, "she likes kimchi jjigae, she talked about it once."

"okay, okay i can work with that? anything else she likes?"

"pastries! she loves pastries!" seonghwa quipped as he remembered the bright smile on your face one afternoon you guys went to a cafe that served the best croissants in seoul.

"alright then. i'll go see if what recipes i have for you and then you can try them out for yourself."

"yes, thank you so much wooyoung." seonghwa felt a little lighter on his feet. his plan was slowly coming together

"of course, hyung. call me if you need anything."

"y/n, do you ever think about if seonghwa-"

"do i think if seonghwa feels any sort of fucking emotion towards me or what happened a couple of days ago?" you finish for your best friend, hwang yeji.

"godamn y/n." yeji takes a sip of her tea as you continued your rant.

"no i fucking don't." you hissed. "i would be surprised if he even thought about it for a second. mr.park is always so fucking busy and working every godamn hour of the day."

you took a sip of your cold brew in order to calm yourself down. today was a self-care/catch-up day with yeji, you couldn't ruin the vibe so early into your guys day, there was far too many things you guys had to do before you left for jeju. of course, you could talk about seonghwa and what happened on the trip but that would put a dampener on everything so you decided to talk about it now before it ate you alive.

"you're feelings are valid y/n, but don't think you should give seonghwa a chance to redeem himself this year?" yeji shyly suggests slightly afraid of how you would react to her question.

you did give him a chance to redeem himself. you gave him four chances to and each year he still fails you. "i did." you answer coldy, sipping your drink as you glance out the window to distract your mind. "and he keeps failing."

your eyes shifted from the tall glass windows to yeji who only muttered a small "oh."

"if he really wants me to forgive him, he can start out with doing something romantic for once in his life." you huff with a roll of your eyes. "come on, i need to buy a new bathing suit and new shoes for tomorrow."

"alright then. i think you should at least get seonghwa something while you're here, you know. so you don't have to think about him on the trip."

"i'll look." you agree as you made your way to the exit of the cafe. the thought of seonghwa never once leaving your mind as you finished your last minute errands for tomorrow.

while you shopped, seonghwa was finally attempting to bring wooyoung's recipes to life. not even going to lie, seonghwa was stressed, probably more stressed than he's ever been in awhile. a bead of sweat made it's way to his brow as he speedily yet carefully chopped vegetables for dinner.

he was constantly checking the time because he called yeji two days after the fight to basically beg her to take y/n out for the day before they leave because he wanted to prepare something for her. although it took around an hour to convince yeji to even listen to what seonghwa had to say to her, he was immensely grateful for her help.

however, seonghwa was too immersed in piping his whipped cream into the cream puffs, he had missed yeji's ten calls and dozens of text messages that you were on the way home.

by the time he got to his phone, you had just pulled into the parking lot with yeji. a string of cuss words left seongwa's mouth as he threw all the dirty dishes into the dish washer and stuffed the rest into the sink. as more seconds flew by, seonghwa was carefully plating the dinner table with your favorite dishes along with a few of your favorite sides.

outside, he could hear your faint voice and the soft beeping of the keypad on the door. shittt, he didn't even have time to change. fuck it. "hey." your husband softly spoke as soon as you opened the door.

"seonghwa? what's all this?" your eyes immediately dart to the dinner table that was loaded with food for two for once along with a few candles in the middle of it. eyes drifting back to seonghwa, you noticed the flour sprinkled on his apron and his hair a mess, his hands fiddled with each other.

"oh! i uh made us dinner before you leave tomorrow because i wanted to celebrate with you." hwa's stumbled over his words as he felt his cheeks warm up. "i know it doesn't look the best but if you wanted to join me, i need a minute to clean up." he gestured towards his apron and clothes.

a million emotions were circling your mind but the only response you could get out was a small "i would love to" accompanied with a shy smile.

seonghwa let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "great! i'll be back."

but before you could even set your bags down, seonghwa took them out of your hands and pulled out a seat for you at the dinner table.

your heart fluttered as you sat down, "thank you."

shyly you watched as seonghwa slipped into the bedroom to change. your eyes floated back to the table as you scanned the plates and bowls in front of you. quickly, you began to realize that everything here was your favorite.

there was absolutely no way that park seonghwa, your ghost of a partner knew anything about you.

from the lack of attention over the five years, you could give less of a crap if the food was absolute shit. the mere thought that seonghwa even remembering anything you liked had you jumping for joy.

with your heart feeling warm, you softly smiled as you gaze at seonghwa as he enters the kitchen to pull out a bottle of champagne. you watched in anticipation as he twisted the cork off with a loud pop.

the golden liquid bubbled in the tall glasses as he made his way back to you. with a shaky hand, seonghwa passed you his drink, "i know that it was absolutely selfish and disrespectful of me to dismiss your feelings all those years ago and i am truly sorry for now realizing how much of a shitty husband i am. i know it will take a lot for you to forgive me but i want to thank you for joining me tonight."

you did your best to keep your facial expressions to a minimal, not wanting to let seonghwa know that he basically won you over again. "no, thank you for preparing everything for tonight." you calmly respond with a wave of your hand, "to five years together finally."

"to five years."

the both of you clinked your glasses together and took a long sip of the champagne as the alcohol left a bittersweet on your tongues.

before a silence could fall, you both attempted to start a conversation at the same time. awkward giggles slipped as seonghwa allowed you to talk to first.

"did you make everything yourself?" you ask as you serve yourself kimchi jjigae.

seonghwa waits patiently as you get everything you want, making sure that you were satisfied with your plate. "yes, wooyoung helped me come up with recipes for tonight and i just brought them to life."

he held a breath as he watches you take a bite. with every passing second he could feel his heart pound louder and louder. he ached for your approval even though he was the last person that should.

a delightful hum leaves your lips as your eyes light up in surprise, "this tastes wonderful seonghwa!"

the man in front of you relaxes and slightly sinks into his chair in relief. "i'm glad you like it." he hums as he digs into his own plate.

the rest of the night is full stolen glances that made you feel like you were in high school again along with fulfilling conversations that allowed each other to open up little by little. the bottle of champagne was long gone and the night was winding down.

"it's late, you have an early flight tomorrow don't you?" seonghwa asks as he gets up from his chair.

"i don't board until ten." you correct him, secretly not wanting this night to end.

"still, you need to arrive early to check in." before you could even protest, seonghwa begins to clean up the dinner table, "go get ready for bed, i'll clean everything up."

"are you sure?" you awkwardly stand up from the table silently refusing to not help him.

"of course, go." he shakes his head as his hands are full of plates and cups.

in a silent debate with yourself, you contemplated kissing seonghwa or giving him a hug to show your appreciation for him. you still were slightly mad with him but godamn, did this dinner give you higher hopes for the future. it showed you that hwa did really care. he wanted this to work as much as you did.

"go, y/n." your husband says a little more sternly this time.

fuck it.

you pecked his cheek quickly, "thank you for dinner, hwa."

before he even had a chance to process what had happened you were already gone but the warm, butterfly feeling returned.

tonight was a most definitely a success, seonghwa thought as he began washing the dishes with a satisfied smile on his face.

by the time seonghwa was done, you were in the middle of your night-time skin care routine. returning the favor, he kissed your bare shoulder causing goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"thank you for joining me tonight." hwa mumbled into your neck.

pausing your routine, you turn around, "how could i say no?"

your eyes hold seonghwa's as you feel your heart racing once again. when was the last time he looked at you like this? like you were the only thing in the world?

studying your husband's face, you notice the faint blush across his nose and cheeks that could be from the alcohol or from the same heart-racing feeling in your chest. maybe it was both who knows.

"when you come back," seonghwa paused afraid to speak anymore, "can we start over again."

out of the million things you could've said, you just laugh and brush away his question. "hwa, you're drunk. you don't even know what you're saying."

you didn't want to believe what he was asking. there was no way in hell that park seonghwa actually wanted to continue this act of loving husband and wife. he would eventually forget you as his work schedule would fill, right. right?

"y/n, please." seonghwa gripped your shoulders to stop you from turning around.

there was absolutely no way he was being serious. not in a million years would he prioritize his own wife over work. it would be out of character for him. park seonghwa was a ceo before he was anything else .

"i promise, i'll be better for you."

those words felt like a shot to the heart rather than something comforting.

"just trust me please." his voice cracked as a hand sneaked its way to your cheek.

"hwa, did you even notice that i was coming home later than usual and getting up earlier than you?"

"yes, but i didn't think of anything of it." he confesses, "but i missed you in bed. i miss coming home to you and waking up next to you. i know most of those mornings we didn't even speak but i still cherished every moment with you."

a tear slips down his cheek as you immediately go to wipe it. you really want to believe the words he was saying. truly. but it seemed impossible.

"we'll talk when i get back. alright hwa?" you cup his face, using your thumbs to wipe anymore stray tears.

"but-"

you pry yourself from his grasp, heart cracking with each movement. "we'll talk when i get back."

the next morning, you followed through with your jeju trip with a heavy heart. clearly, you didn't have enough time to process what seonghwa had said to you before you left your flight. you promised yourself that this weekend was about you and your girls. you could think about hwa later.

however, you did the opposite. on the plane you couldn't even doze off as you looked at the plane solemnly still thinking about him. the first day of the trip didn't even go as well as you hoped even after downing a bottle and a half of soju.

you were crying in your shared hotel room with yeji who had to carry you back with the help of another friend.

the sobs you let out made your words incoherent and made you choke even more.

"y/n, baby you gotta breathe before you talk. let's calm down first and then you can tell me what's wrong." yeji brushes your hair back and wipes your never-ending tears.

she whispers to your other friend that she got it and that she can join the rest of the girls at the bar.

you let out a few more sobs before attempting to stop crying. "i-i-i-i, seonghw-a, wants to-to-to start ov-ver-ver."

"isn't that a good thing, y/n?" she asks, comfortingly stroking your head.

"y-ess, but i d-on't want to be hurt-t again." you sob even louder.

yeji pulls you into her arms as she rubs her hand against your forearm. "i don't think he'll hurt you again. trust me. he was the one who told me to take you shopping. he wanted to make sure he had enough time to cook for dinner. he wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you."

"r-really?" you look up through your blurry vision at your best friend. so seonghwa did care?

"yes, y/n. he literally begged over an hour for me to help him out. he really cares about you and your relationship. he understands now that he fucked up big time and he wants to try again."

"i wan-t-t to see him." you pout, "no-ow please."

"i'll get you home tomorrow but right now, you need to drink some water or you're going to regret it later honey."

"ok-ay, b-but tell h-hwa i love him p-please."

"of course."

the very next morning, you hopped on the next flight back to seoul with your heart beating out of your chest. you didn't even have the chance to properly explain to your friends what was going on. they weren't even awake when you left. yeji had promised to tell them that you had an emergency with seonghwa and had to fly back home immediately.

in a flurry, you sped through the gate and the city as you rushed back to your apartment. you needed to make it before seonghwa left for work. otherwise you were going to yank him out of whatever meeting he was in.

you hurriedly punched the keypad as soon with one hand lugging your suitcase. "seonghwa!" you call out, looking at the floor as you kicked off your shoes.

"y/n?" a familiar voice shouts back as your head perks up to see your husband with his tie hanging around his shoulders and the cuff of his shirt unraveled. "i thought you were supposed to back on monday?"

"i was but i needed to see you." you answer out of breath.

"are you okay? did something happen?" seonghwa asks as he places a hand on your back.

"did you really mean what you said on thursday." you fire, completely ignoring whatever he asked.

"of course, i did." he answers, scanning your face for any injuries. he cupped your cheeks ever so gently as if he was afraid you were going to break.

"i want to start over too." you puff out, nerves on fire. "i was too scared to say yes the first time. i didn't want to be disappointed again."

a shocked look took over seonghwa's features. for two reasons, one of them because he hurt you so badly that you didn't trust him and the other was that you wanted to start over too.

"we can start over again." he whispers as he brings your face close to his. "i'll call hongjoong to cover me for today."

"wait, what?" you shake your head in disbelief, no way was seonghwa taking a day off just for you. "but what about-"

"work can fuck off for a day." he mumbles as he stares down at your lips. "i want to spend time with you."

"seonghwa," you start but before you could finish, he interrupts you.

"can i kiss you?" seonghwa asks as you could feel his hands tremble on your face.

the man you married was drastically different than the one in front of you right now. the other one rarely showed any emotion and only strived for perfection in the business world; never sparing you a single thought or second. this seonghwa was more vulnerable. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him and although he sucked at communicating his feelings you could feel the sincerity in his actions that thursday night.

you liked this version of seonghwa more. you loved all the moments of him being shy and nervous.

"of course." you smile as you gaze into his eyes lovingly, "you're my husband after all."

a soft grin appeared on his lips before he closed the gap between you two. his soft lips felt like absolute heaven as you practically melted in his grasp. you wondered if his lips always felt this good.

but when seonghwa pulled apart, breathless and cheeks a soft pink, he muttered a quiet "thank you."

"for what?" you ask as you fiddle with your hands wrapped around his neck.

"for coming back to me."

902 notes · View notes

peachesyeo · 16 days

Text

8/9... 8/8 - ATEEZ OT8 part one

THIS IMAGINE IS MATURE! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

⊹ 2k words ⊹ friends!ateez x fem!reader (ft. straykids) ᭡ angst, mature.

✧ a/n: hi. erm. yeah. i guess. in a rainy and depressive mood these days, but i'll be fine. might take a while to update, please be understanding. thank you.

thank you @sousydive for beta reading.

⊂ content: shitty ateez (esp jongho & wooyoung) warning. name-calling, slapping, crying, stray kids being absolute angels. friendship problems, both sides are in the wrong. strong language. please don't hate jongho i love my baby bear pls, a little self-harming.

✦ network: @newworldnet

:̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? :̗̀➛ 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞? :̗̀➛ 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭? (for all works)

You sat on your bed, staring at your phone.

Zero notifications.

No calls, no texts. No one asked for you.

Your fingers swiped open the group chat. The last message was sent by you, asking if anyone wanted to grab lunch together.

Nine members, eight reads, zero replies.

You put your phone down, thinking about your recent behaviour. Have you done anything wrong? Did you accidentally offend them? Or perhaps, say the wrong thing?

You sighed, throwing your phone to the side and looking at the frame photo by your bed. You and the boys were huddled together, laughing at the camera. It was San’s birthday, and all of you had come up with a surprise party. The nine of you, all together, celebrating, smiling.

When was the last time you hung out with them?

Was it… three months ago? Four?

“They’re probably busy, Y/n…” You muttered to yourself, blinking rapidly so the sudden tears that gathered in your eyes wouldn’t fall. You sniffed, shaking your head. “Stop over thinking, Y/n.” You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your fingers curling into a fist. “You’re fine. Stop behaving so childishly.”

You let yourself fall onto the pillows, staring up at the ceiling above you. Every single time you send a message to them, they would reply dryly.

Maybe they’re sick of you, Y/n.

You closed your eyes, wrapping yourself up in a foetal position.

Everything will be fine.

You know something is wrong, Y/n.

No, everything is fine. Nothing is wrong.

Stop lying to yourself.

I’m not lying to myself.

Are you?

“I’m not.” You whispered, your voice shaky and unconfident. Tears gathered up at your eyes as you tried to get yourself to sleep.

You woke up with a gasp, breathing heavily as you bent over to the side of the bed, retching dryly. You were covered in cold sweat, shaking as you recovered your breathing.

The annoyed expression on your friends faces seemed so real, to the point that you cannot differentiate between your dream and reality. You raised your knees to your chest, hugging them as you tried to calm yourself down.

It’s not real it’s not real it’s not real

“A nightmare. It’s a nightmare.” You told yourself, covering your face with your hands. “Y/n, stop it. Stop overthinking, you idiot.”

You reached for your phone, tapping on Seonghwa’s chat.

You stared at the screen, your fingers pausing in mid air.

You: Oppa| You: Op| You: |

You scrolled upwards, reading your previous chats. It was mostly you talking about your problems, and Seonghwa advising you on what to do. You swallowed your saliva, reading his replies, which were getting drier and drier as you scrolled down.

Hwa Oppa: Y/n-ah, sorry, I’m busy. Hwa Oppa: Ok. Hwa Oppa: Ttyl. Hwa Oppa: Mhm. Hwa Oppa: K. Hwa Oppa: Can you text me later? Hwa Oppa: Kinda busy now.

You tapped on his profile. Online 3 hours ago. The time now is 2am.

A sense of helplessness swallowed you as you let the phone drop onto your bed. You looked outside of the window, letting out another sigh.

You can't sleep anymore.

Maybe you should try one more time?

Y/n: Oppa, can we talk?

Seonghwa frowned at the notification. In front of him, Mingi was hollering with the mic, along with San, who was shrieking at the top of his voice, abusing poor Yunho's ears, who was sitting nearest to the speaker.

"Who is that?" Jongho asked, peering at the screen over his shoulder. "Oh." He looked away uninterestedly, taking a mouthful of his alcohol.

"Y/n?" Wooyoung grabbed Seonghwa's phone, scowling. "Does she want to complain about her boring work problems again? I have enough of listening to her shit-"

"Wooyoung. Stop it." Hongjoong warned. The latter rolled his eyes, giving Seonghwa his phone back before going over to San to snatch his microphone. As they scuffle over it, Yeosang sighed, frowning.

"I still don't think it's a good idea leaving her out and ignoring her like that, hyung." He watched the two fight while Mingi continued to sing his heart out. "We should sit down at talk it out-"

"Listen, I've tried. But every single time she would talk about her stupid work problems, I just needed a break from her, okay?" Seonghwa shot back, irritated. Yeosang put his hands up in defeat, shutting up. Seonghwa turned his phone off, shaking his head. “I’ll just… text her later.”

Jongho snorted, turning his attention back to the singing trio. Yeosang bit his lip nervously, but Hongjoong clapped his back. “Hey, just chill. Y/n would be fine without us anyway, she has so many friends.” He stuffed a glass of beer into Yeosang’s empty hands. “Here, take a drink and just forget about her, okay? It's been some time since all eight of us can come out together.”

Yeosang’s fingers grip the glass nervously. Yunho, who had crawled over to their seat to get away from the speaker, saw his hesitancy and rolled his eyes. “Hyung is right, Yeosang-ah. Y/n wouldn’t die without us. We should have our Boys Night anyways. Just drink.” He pushed the glass to Yeosang’s lips, the younger finally taking a sip reluctantly.

“Yeah.” He watched Jongho, who had joined in with the three at the front. “You’re right.”

It's not much of a problem.

Right?

Your phone buzzed. Your eyes lit up, grabbing it and scanning at it.

Felix (Baking Class): Hey, this is Y/n right?

You slumped in disappointment, but soon it turned to confusion. What's Felix texting you at 2am for?

Felix Lee, a sweet Australian you've met through your baking class. You have enjoyed talking to him, the both of you exchanging tales of your baking mishaps. None of the boys, not even Wooyoung, likes to bake. So only Felix understood your problems with baking.

You: Hey Felix. You: What can I do for you?

Felix (Baking Class): I don't think I'm supposed to tell you this but Felix (Baking Class): You're friends with Hongjoong hyung right?

You: Yeah Felix (Baking Class): Erm, so my friends and I were at the nuraebang Felix (Baking Class): Changbin hyung was recording er, Jeonginnie just now

Felix (Baking Class): It's not like we're eavesdropping or anything, but erm I think you should, listen to this

Felix (Baking Class): *video.mp4*

Something is wrong.

Yeosang forced a laugh as he sipped on his coffee. They were in San's house, eating breakfast. Wooyoung busied himself over the stove, while Hongjoong was muttering to himself, his hands furiously typing away on his laptop. Mingi continued to talk after getting a reaction from Yeosang, but the man's attention had drifted elsewhere.

"...and then that's it. My manager just let me off." Mingi smirked proudly, earning a thumbsup from Yunho and San. Seonghwa rolled his eyes. "You were lucky this time, Mingi-ah. Yeosang, eggs?"

Yeosang gave him a small shake of his head. "No thank you. Hyung, did you text Y/n?"

The kitchen went silent at the name. Even Hongjoong looked up from his screen. "Y/n?"

"Yeah. She erm, hasn't contacted us in a week?" Yeosang reminded, shaking his phone in their face. "She usually texts us in the morning in the groupchat-"

"C'mon Yeo, that's a good thing." Wooyoung came out of the kitchen, untying his apron and frowning at Yeosang. "Don't spoil the mood early in the morning."

"Maybe she's busy, Yeo." Yunho suggested, wolfing down his pancake. "She did say that her boss sent her for some field checks. And don't be so mean, Woo."

Wooyoung pouted. "I'm just annoyed at her. And why isn't Jongho back?"

Jongho felt guilty.

He sipped on his cup of americano nervously, glancing at you. You sat with your gaze lowered, fixated on your own cup, your eyes cast downward.

He had bumped into you at the supermarket while getting syrup for Wooyoung. He didn't know why, but when he saw you, he had this sudden desire to run away.

Like a little boy after making a mistake.

"Erm, Y/n, how are you?" He decided, speaking carefully. You looked up from your cup at him, before tugging the corner of your lips upwards.

"Jongho-ah. Please, be honest with me." You pressed the nail of your thumb into your skin, the piercing pain kept your tears in. “Do I… really annoy you guys? When I’m telling… No, when I'm complaining about…” You bit your lower lip, suddenly feeling pathetic. Then you breathed in, before speaking again. “You know what, nevermind. I heard that you guys needed a break from me- Don’t need to explain, I heard it for myself.” You stopped Jongho as he opened his mouth to explain. “I totally understand that. But I’m just here to tell you that leaving me out is not cool. We’re adults, Jongho-ah. You and the boys should have just told me.”

“W-we’re just afraid that you’ll be upset-” “So you guys started leaving me out? Ignoring my texts? Talking behind my back?” You pressed your thumb harder into your skin, angry tears welling up in your eyes. “Like a teenager in highschool? Choi Jongho, you know that’s not… that’s not…” You glared at him, your brain searching for the right word.

“Not how you should behave as a friend.” Someone placed their hand behind your back, patting them. The both of you looked up to see Felix, who was holding up a cup of coffee. Behind him, Bang Chan and Jisung waved at you. You blinked quickly, forcing the tears to go back in and waved back at them, before turning your attention to him. “Lixie? What are you doing here?”

“Breakfast with my hyung and Han Jisung.” He jabbed his thumb back at the two of them. Felix then turned to Jongho, offering him a simple smile that did not reach his eyes. “Hi, I’m Felix. I heard a lot from Y/nnie about you.” He introduced himself, his hand never leaving your back. Jongho frowned, glancing from his hand and back to his face.

“I’m Jongho.” His voice was unwelcoming. Your brows furrowed. “Jongho, that was ru-” “It’s okay. Sorry if I interrupted you guys, but hyung’s asking whether you wanna join us later for lunch. Minho hyung cooked the dish you said you’d like to try.”

Your eyes lit up at his words. “Really?” You exclaimed. Jongho observed your exchange with a stoic expression on his face. Felix nodded. “Yeah, I’ll call you later?”

You nodded. Felix patted your hair, gave a friendly nod to Jongho and returned back to his hyungs. As soon as he left, Jongho sneered. “So, you’ve been hanging out with those kind of people?”

Your smile froze. “What did you say?”

Jongho shook his head mockingly. “Them, Y/n L/n. Hanging out with Felix Lee and his stupid little gang?” He hissed. “What did they offer you? Money? Are you fucking with them?”

You stared at him in disbelievement. “What? Did I say something wrong?” Jongho scoffed, sending a glare over to Felix. “You know they are rivals with Seonghwa hyung, right? They play around, Y/n. Are you being a whore for them-”

A loud, resounding slap echoed through the cafe, capturing the attention of everyone dining inside. Jongho touched his burning left cheek, slowly turning to face you. You were standing up, your chest heaving in anger and humiliation at Jongho’s words. Regret instantly flooded his eyes, as Jongho realized what he had said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Say that I’m a slut? For hanging out with a group of men?” You finished the sentence for him, your voice filled with anger and sadness. “Choi Jongho, you’re an asshole. Fuck you. You all are assholes!” You cursed as you grabbed your bag and headed out towards the exit.

As you ran out, Jongho saw Felix and his friends hurried to follow you too. When his eyes met Felix’s, the latter smirked at him, and Jongho gritted his teeth.

He fucked up.

➳ permanent taglist: @sousydive @oddracha @yeodeulz @jaerisdiction

#ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez angst #ateez #☁️by k #ateez oneshot #newworldnet #stray kids #stray kids x reader

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bvidzsoo · 1 month

Text

drunk texting bff!Ateez and accidentally confessing you're into them

author: bvidzsoo

pairing: ot8 x reader

tw: nsfw

genre: smau, reactions, best friend to lovers!au

a/n: another random one lol kill me atp, these were so not supposed to be nsfw idk what happened, help. perhaps a few of these are...strong, if you know what i mean, lol. don't mind me, enjoy!

⚞ Masterlist ⚟

906 notes · View notes

jaehunnyy · 5 months

Text

time's the charm | cs

Genre: 'hate everyone but you' trope, angst, fluff

Word count: 2.3k

Pairing: quiet-boy!San x fem!reader

Warnings: San has a sad past (nothing triggering mentioned tho), mentions of running from home, sadness, toxic men, crying, some harsh words, misunderstandings, happy ending tho!!, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluisheye93, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu, @starillusion13

You had no idea when the quiet, ebony haired guy’s eyes started to form red hearts whenever they landed on you. You had no idea when he gathered the courage to look away from his phone, just so he could get a glimpse of your outfit that day, or your hair, anything when it came to you. You also had no idea that Choi San was capable of having feelings, and neither did he. That was the first time San pleasantly surprised someone.

There wasn’t much he knew about you. Aside from your not-so-good reputation around the campus, he also found out that you held the power to make his heart jolt in happiness, or whatever that feeling was supposed to be. The lingering feeling of warmth whenever he saw you was burning his skin, along with the electric arrows piercing through his spine—and he hated it. He hated that he couldn’t hate you, just like he did with everyone else around him. But he knew he brought it upon himself, and maybe this one time, he was willing to try and risk some things.

You, on the other hand, knew what the people around you wanted you to know about him. San didn’t talk to anyone except one person (the only person he called a friend, just because they were roommates), which is why you just let the guys in your class spill whatever harsh things they dreamt up whenever his headphones were covering his ears; except he wasn’t always listening to music, but also to the things they were saying about him—because what’s so great in lying is the not knowing.

Little did they know that instead of making you stay away from him, it intrigued you. You wanted to see behind the fluffy halo of black surrounding his head—you wanted to know the story of the blue streak that blended in between his black hairs, what music resonated through his ears every break, or what shop he preferred whenever he went shopping. Something told you there was something special about the guy. He was different from all the other ones you messed with, and as much as you didn’t want to hurt him, you were selfish enough to want him for yourself.

Love did its wonders in the last few weeks, cause San didn’t know what had gotten into him when he grabbed the smallest piece of paper he eyed and a pen, writing a short note and putting it into your locker. It was like Cupid was controlling him or whatever, and as much as his nose scrunched at the thought of those lovey-dovey things, his heart swelled with pride. He just wanted to be looked at from a different point of view, he thought that maybe, you would look at him differently.

“San? Did you just put something into y/n’s locker?” his only friend, Yeosang, asked him with a frown on his face.

San looked at him with puppy-like eyes, as he was caught red-handed.

“San… what did I tell you when you transferred here?”

The black haired guy looked at the older boy, whispering in a tiny voice: “To stay away from her.”

“Well, it definitely doesn’t seem like you are too great at it.” His friend snapped, dragging him along the hallway.

“Yeosang, she makes me feel things no one else has, I don't even know how to describe it.”

“She will make you feel some unique things when she will break your heart too.” The blonde haired guy said and left, not in the mood to argue with his friend.

San felt small again. He hated everyone for the way they treated him—for seeing him as nothing less than a fragile thing who could break in any second. When he ran away at the age of fourteen, everything changed inside the once bubbly guy. He became quiet, indifferent even, or that was just the wall he built around him from broken memories and dirty past; cause deep down, he just wanted to be loved, despite hate being the only thing he knew how to offer.

You truly wanted to get closer to him. You admired how his head bobbed to the beat of the music he was listening to, or how his lips would form a pout when he got out of words when writing a note—the same love notes that continued to grow into a pile on your desk, bringing a lopsided smile on your face whenever you thought about the dimpled guy who sent them. You saw him sticking one of them a few days ago, yet you had too much fun seeing him like this—as the cold boy who had a soft spot for you; so you acted a fool.

You weren’t as bad as everyone claimed you were; you were just giving nasty men a taste of their own poison. Call yourself a femme fatale or whatever, but you just enjoyed seeing them crawl for forgiveness after what they did; yet your little act of service brought you a title as dirty as your actions, so you could just bear it in exchange for some healed hearts. You grew tired of the brokenhearted girls around the campus, so you just made their exes approach you enough so you could break their heart; you would call it playing the hero; except it wasn’t seen the same by the ones who sided with the villains of the story.

The more time passed, the more you were getting infatuated with the quiet boy, as much as he was getting addicted to your intoxicating presence. You could say you two fell in love with the help of the innocent notes, hiding behind the sweet nothings plastered on the pieces of paper; and this little word game of yours gave San enough confidence, the moment he decided he was ready to ask you on a messy date. That was the second time he pleasantly surprised someone with his efforts.

You might be curious about who I am. Meet me today at 7pm in the park? ♡

You would have said yes, if only someone didn’t have a trump card. The moment San turned his back away from the lockers, the boy who had other plans for you took the note and stamped on it, before throwing it into the closest trash bin he found. He couldn’t let this date happen, and it sadly didn’t—which is why you weren’t aware of the guy waiting for you in the cold, tears threatening to stain his cheeks with the salty taste of loss. Was that all he was destined to? Pain? Where did he go wrong this time?

He waited and waited, and when the clock hit 9pm, he realized he should have probably listened to his friend. He was way out of your league—and still, your responses to his texts (though he supposed you didn’t know it was him), and the subtle smiles you threw in his direction, he thought that maybe, just maybe, in his world full of darkness and bad luck, you would be his lucky charm. He let out a bitter laugh the moment he felt the familiar wetness on his cheek, making him remember that instead of hating everyone but you, he should have stuck to hating everyone, including you. That was the moment he swore he would never waste his feelings on anyone, deciding that he was made to wallow in self-pity forever.

And as expected due to the circumstances, the notes stopped—and you were sad; that sad that you distanced yourself from your heartthrob activities, just to focus on the boy you grew to adore. But things changed—San changed. He didn’t look at you anymore, his once fond look turning into painful daggers whenever your eyes laid on him. His dimples were hidden deeply in his soft cheeks, making you wonder what happened. If it was your fault, if it was a false hope you had, if he was like the other ones. While you two were hurting each other with the lack of affection, the tragedy was happening under the eyes of the person who screwed it all.

You endured, and endured, until one day, you couldn’t endure anymore. When you finished your lectures, you followed San, stopping him at the nearest wall of the school and looking into his eyes.

“Why did you stop sending me notes? I liked them, San.” You whispered, looking for any sign of emotion on his face.

To say he was surprised that you knew it was him was an understatement—though it didn’t matter anymore. You were probably just trying to fool him again.

“I never sent you any notes. You must be mistaking me for someone else.” He said coldly, not even looking into your eyes. He was lying.

“I saw you sticking them to my locker, San. Please, tell me.”

He let out a scoff, followed by a mocking laughter.

“Why do you even care now? Are you going to tell the whole college now? That I am such a pathetic guy?”

“San, please!”

He looked at your pleading eyes, debating if he should give you an explanation or not. You didn’t deserve it, but his feelings made a step forward.

“Why would I try to hit on someone who would only laugh at me? You broke my heart—gave me hope, and then stamped on all my efforts to ask you out the moment you made me wait for you for two hours. And this isn’t even the biggest problem,” he paused, his sharp eyes laying on your confused face: “The problem is I can't even hate you for it. Because I know you deserve better; yet I still had some hope.”

Your eyes widened. What was this man talking about? While you were engulfed in your thoughts, he was ready to leave, but you were quick to grab his wrist, making him turn back to you, an annoyed expression on his face.

“San, let me talk.”

“About? I already know you don’t do relationships or anything, kind of learned it the hard way.” He said sarcastically, yet you knew he was as hurt as you were.

“If you truly like me, give me a chance to speak,” you begged, and you saw his stiff expression relaxing just a bit, a small nod of his head encouraging you to continue: “I don’t understand. What did you expect from me? You never asked me out!”

San frowned, knuckles so tense from the way he was clenching his fists.

“I literally did a week ago?”

You don’t recall receiving a note a week ago. You thought hard, but the last time you got a note from him, he asked you to expect something later. So, what if someone was sabotaging you, stealing the chance you had away?

“San, I didn't find any notes a week ago. I can show you all the notes I have if you want, I… kinda collect them.” You said, a small blush on your cheek—only that he wasn’t buying it this time.

And that’s when it hit you.

“San, wait—what if I never got the note? What if someone didn’t want us to happen?”

“Stop finding excuses to play with me.”

“San, I'm not, list—”

You were interrupted by a shuffling sound behind you, and that's when the culprit who was eavesdropping all this time appeared, a halo of fair hair surrounding his head as he looked down, drenched in guilt.

“It was me. I didn't want you to happen, because I was scared you would hurt my friend.” Yeosang whispered, head hung down in shame.

He never felt that small in front of San; it was always the other way around. But now, he felt like he did the wrongest thing ever, and he didn’t think he had any right to look his friend—or you, in the eyes.

“Yeosang…? Why would you even? You—you knew I was so into her, so… why…?”

“I know she hurts everyone she gets with. I wanted to prevent you from heartbreak.”

“I don't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. I just get revenge for my friends’ broken hearts by messing with their exes’ minds, and this might make me look like some sort of fuckgirl and whatnot, but this time, I fell in love. For real.”

San looked at you in awe, the light in his beautiful eyes shining again.

“Did you really?” he stuttered,

“I… I think I did, yeah.”

San wondered if it was too late to ask you out, again. And, as the invisible red thread of fate tied you to one another, you kinda read his thoughts.

“If you still want to, I would love to go out with you, Sannie.”

Sannie. The first nickname that got his heart running laps, along with the butterflies dancing a sweet dance of victory inside of him.

Yeosang’s eyes filled with hope, and he looked up at his friend, who gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder.

“Thank you for caring, Yeosang. But I am on my own now.” He said, before grabbing your hand and leaving with you.

This was San—the quiet guy who was pretending to hate everyone while waiting for the person who would look behind his intentions, who would see how much he craved to be loved and understood. He improved so much, and that was the third time San had pleasantly surprised someone—but this time, it would definitely not be the last.

After everything he had been through, he felt like the sun had finally risen on his street, the moment he first woke up with you in his arms. This was only the start of his journey to happiness, and he hoped it would last more than the suffering he went through in his twenty years of life.

Time’s the charm, and despite the hardships you two faced, he wouldn’t want it any other way. He felt invincible when he held your hand, happiness written all over his face, and he was sure that he wasn’t meant to cycle this beautiful trip alone, but with the love of his life by his side.

559 notes · View notes

bluehwale · 1 year

Note

I loved that unconventional meeting post could you maybe do a post where they realize that after meeting you for the first time that they might have a crush on you ?

ateez realizing they have a crush on you!

part 2 to unconventional first encounters with ateez (please read this first!)

pairing. ateez x reader (specifically f! reader for seonghwa & jongho)

genre. fluff, humor, teeny tiny angst if you squint

warning(s). injuries, drinking, mint choco ice cream slander, some of the endings are half-assed im sorry

word count. 8.1k oopsies

note. tysm for sending in this request!! and i'm so sorry it took so long to get to you </3 im an ungifted burnout kid so i write and think at a snail's pace lmao bUT i hope u enjoy this one :-D (feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated! ily all muah)

masterlist

kim hongjoong

here's the thing about hongjoong

he can be really cool with his skateboard and his obscure music taste and whatnot

but

he can also be a little bit out of tune with his feelings (this is a certified testimony from his self-proclaimed best friend, wooyoung)

it's obvious from how he has heart eyes for you but wouldn't make a move

"so when are you taking yn out on a date?"

hongjoong's skateboard halts in an abrupt stop after he suddenly plants a foot on the concrete to take a look at wooyoung as if he's grown two heads. "when am i what??"

and wooyoung’s just kinda staring him down like man, you can't be serious rn,,,,,

everyone and their mothers in this skatepark probably knows that hongjoong is basically head over heels for you because

it's just that obvious!!!!

and wooyoung has to resist from pulling out all of his hair in frustration because the man in question is eyeing him as if he’s the weird one

it all started after your Incident™ (you falling on your ass and having hongjoong help you)

you started to frequent the skatepark with your best friend mingi, and hongjoong even mustered up enough courage to ask you for your number one day

and now you both text each other every day >:-D

he even got you your own skateboard

and he also taught you how to skate hehe

he's so whipped

"hongjoong!"

the boy immediately turns to the direction of your voice (he can recognize it even while asleep) and he sees you waving excitedly at him beside an unfamiliar boy with pink hair

unbeknownst to himself, hongjoong's face lights up at the sight of you and he quickly pushes his foot off the ground to skate towards you

"yn!" he hops off his board and pulls you into a hug, inhaling the sweet scent of your hair that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy before involuntarily pulling away to look at the boy with an all black get up beside you. “who’s this?”

“oh! this is seonghwa!” the boy with pink hair nods at hongjoong and gives him a friendly wave in greeting. “he’s mingi’s cousin. he’s visiting for a little while.”

“oh hello, cool skateboard!” hongjoong greets in return, gesturing to the pink skateboard by the boy's feet that contrasts his dark outfit and quiet personality, “i’m hongjoong! i hope we can be good friends!”

maybe not

hongjoong doesn’t know the reason why, but he feels this really uncomfortable sinking feeling in his chest whenever he sees you together with seonghwa

despite his pink hair, the boy looks very intimidating and it seems like he doesn’t talk to anyone except you

and whenever he’s with you, there’s a happy grin permanently etched on his face and you both just look so happy together—

“they probably like each other.”

hongjoong snaps his head to glare at wooyoung who’s munching on a pack of strawberry pocky sticks as he watches you and seonghwa before innocently looking back at hongjoong with a shrug, “what? i’m just saying.”

and hongjoong starts sulking because you know what,, wooyoung might be right :-(

(you, wooyoung, seonghwa, and mingi actually devised a plan to act upon your crush on hongjoong) ((and wooyoung's role is the catalyst to set the plan in motion))

and you know what,,,, maybe hongjoong does have a crush on you. yeah, but just a little bit—

“oof!” wooyoung winces when he sees you land a particularly harsh fall from your skateboard that leaves you lying face first on the ground, and he scrambles to shove the remaining pocky sticks in his mouth before thrusting hongjoong’s first aid kit towards the shell-shocked owner. “dude, go! this is your chance!”

hongjoong was just zipping up his first aid kit after grabbing his can of antiseptic spray and band aids and was ready to run to you until he sees seonghwa already tending to your wounds as he sits beside you

:-( he’s a second too late

(it looks like you two are talking about something or someone as both of your eyes discreetly flicker to hongjoong (who’s too upset to notice))

what he diD notice, however, is the pack of band aids in seonghwa’s hands

and he kinda has to crouch and put his hands on his knees so that his squinted eyes can see better

are thoSE

ARE THOSE BLACK STAR WARS BAND AIDS???

he thought cute graphic band aids were his– and only his– thing !!!!

dang it, and they look super cool too !! :-(

his own pack of pink disney princesses band aids fall to the ground as he dejectedly walks back to where wooyoung is and he slumps to the ground to place back his first aid stuff back inside the kit

looks like he won’t be needing them anymore :-(

but he still finds himself heading to where you are, and he can’t help it when he worriedly takes in your scraped elbows and knees that are covered by the black band aids. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m good,” you say, and hongjoong’s too distracted to notice you glancing at seonghwa who gives you an encouraging nod. you nervously twiddle your thumbs, “uhH, hongjoong, uhm. listen, do you– i MEAN, would you want to maybe grab some milkshake with me sometimes?”

“oh sure! who else is gonna be there?”

…………..

(on the other side of the park, wooyoung rips out the headpiece that taps into seonghwa’s hidden microphone and almost bashes his binoculars in frustration)

just then, hongjoong feels shivers run down his spine as he feels a pair of dark eyes glaring daggers into his back and he can feel the devil on his shoulder whisper harshly into his ear, “they’re asking you out on a date, idiot.”

(spoiler alert: it’s seonghwa)

“i was thinking maybe it could just be the two of us? you know? aHa but it’s totally fine if you don’t want to—!”

“no nO, of course !!! i’d love to!!!” hongjoong exclaims, shooting up from the ground from sheer excitement at the thought of getting milkshake with you

this is the best day of his life

“great, it’s a date then :-D OH SHIT—”

(another spoiler alert: hongjoong fainted)

park seonghwa

seonghwa can definitely see himself marrying you

but not during moments like this

"shh, don't move."

seonghwa lets out a startled noise when he's suddenly awakened by a weight on him, and he almost screams his head off until his bleary eyes slowly open to see your figure straddling his torso with what seems to be an ice cream stick (?) held in your hand while you inch closer to his face

oh! it's just you! :-D (he thought it'd be his sleep paralysis demon)

it had been your idea to buy a house and live together after he nervously got on one knee on your fifth date; which seems all too soon but it appeases both of your parents enough for them to shut up on the marriage talk, much to your and seonghwa’s relief

and after six months of living together, he's proud to declare that you're his best friend or more specifically, his soulmate :-D

which is why you both are comfortable enough to do oddly domestic things together

"baby," he rasps, voice still thick with sleep, before placing his hands on your hips to circle the skin over your nightgown with his thumbs. he lets slip an amused chuckle when he sees your furrowed brows as he holds you off from coming near him. "what are you trying to do, hm?"

"i'm waxing your brows."

seonghwa's eyes almost gouged out of their sockets

"you're what???" he snaps his head to look at the clock at the far end of the wall, all the while trying to push you off him. "why are you trying to wax my brows at… 2 in the morning??!!!!"

"no, because—" you breathlessly giggle at the panic on his face, struggling to get his grip off your wrists. "you'll thank me for this!!! trust me!"

seonghwa, mortified at the thought of you shaping his brows with only a single ambient light aiding your sight in the dark bedroom, thrashes his legs under you like a petulant child. "i'll have you know that my eyebrows get compliments all the time >:-( !!! now get off me !!"

"huh. they must be lying because you kinda look like the red angry bird, dude :-/"

∑(O_O;) !!!!

the image of the cartoon character pops up in his head; the red bird with thick furrowed brows comically pelting towards a wall of green pigs, stupefying his thoughts

his movements falter

"do- do i really.... look like an angry bird?"

"a cute angry bird," you reassure him, gently running your fingers through his hair when you see him pout after his grip on you loosen and his arms fall limply to his sides on the bed. "now, hold still okay? i'm gonna make you look super pretty!"

you dip the wooden stick into the pot of melted wax in the still plugged-in wax heater sitting on the nightstand, prepping the pink wax around the stick before leaning closer to seonghwa's face

"it's pink?" he softly asks, referring to the wax that he's only just now paying attention to, and you nod in reply

"of course! :-D it's your favorite color."

you miss the endearing blush overtaking his cheeks as you lightly slather the wax on his skin before moving to take a muslin wax strip from the pack beside you

seonghwa's hands are back on your hips (this time for his own comfort) as his wide doe eyes nervously peer up at you who's sticking the strip onto the slowly hardening wax on his skin, ready to pull

"w-will it hurt?"

"nah, you won't even feel a single thing. no need to worry :-D"

rip!

"yAAAAAOOOOOOOOwwWWwWCCcHCHHHHHCH !!!!!!! THAT HURTS !!!!!"

his head twists side to side dramatically and you have to prop your hands on his chest to regain balance on his shaking body and your own from laughing

"you said it wouldn't hurt!" he exclaims with an exaggerated pout, rubbing at the sore skin and his eyebrows furrow when you wouldn't stop laughing. "this is serious! you're hurting your future husband!"

"shut up," you playfully roll your eyes, the smile that seonghwa adores lighting up your face. "don't have to remind me that i'm stuck with your ass forever."

he grumbles, pulling the blanket to cover half of his face and hide the growing smile threatening to take over his face. "i'm calling off our engagement."

you dip the stick back in the melted wax as you hum, "you love me too much to do that."

"that's true."

this time, your cheeks grow hot as you attempt to recover from almost losing your grip on the stick, his statement having caught you off guard. he smirks at your reaction and you playfully swat his arm, earning a small ow! as you sarcastically quip, "how romantic."

you return to applying the wax on the areas of his brows that needs cleanup after your fingers forcefully drag the upturned corners of his lips downwards

"you know... i figured i'll just marry the first person my parents set me up with," he breathes, a soft smile lingering on his lips at your focused expression. "but if it hadn't been you, i'd go through– hm– i’d willingly go through 219 horrible ! horrible ! dates just so i could be with you."

"oh please," you snort, raising an eyebrow at his statement. "you'd probably end up with someone else if you went on 219 dates."

"you're right.... who could ever resist this scrumptious, absolutely handsome face–"

"i'm gonna make sure the next strip hurts twice as much :-)"

"yN ahaha PLEASE DON'T ahahah I WAS JUST JOKING—"

jeong yunho

"tonight is your first mission."

wooyoung twirls the pointing stick in his hand before slapping it against his open palm, calmly sauntering across the leeway in front of the big whiteboard in the coworking space he rented. "today's topic will cover everything you need to know, so i need you to listen very closely."

amidst the numerous empty chairs behind the large meeting table sits an eager boy with soft brown hair, his wide eyes taking in each and every word on the board while his right hand grips a pen— ready to take notes on the very important lecture wooyoung's presenting today

"but first, a pop quiz!" wooyoung suddenly smacks his pointing stick against the board, smudging the writing that reads dealing with drunk yn 101 written in pink dry erase marker and effectively startling the poor boy from the loud noise

"a- a pop quiz?" baffled, yunho feels the grip on his high-quality japanese brand pen slip. he scrambles over the table littered with his best stationery to prepare a crisp spiderman themed loose leaf paper, "but-but i haven't even learned anything yet!"

"hush, this is to test out your prior knowledge. now, i'll begin with a case study."

jeong yunho, a widely-known overachiever, strives to be the best; especially when it comes to things for you– which is why he currently remains unblinking out of sheer focus on wanting to get his answers right

he has to get it right!!!

"you're both in a cab to go home when suddenly," wooyoung aggressively taps on the stickman drawing that poorly resembles you on the board, "drunk yn sees a claw machine on the side of the road and wants you to win a stuffed animal for them. what would you do?"

what would i do? yunho can feel the sweat beading on his forehead as he desperately racks his brain for an answer that would please the red haired boy who has an eyebrow raised and his hands on his hips

think, jeong yunho! think!

"i would... politely ask for the taxi man to stop and accompany yn to the claw machine—"

"WRONG. ddaeng !!!! man, how are you so down bad– sigh,,,,, dude," wooyoung turns to lean his forehead against the whiteboard and sighs before pulling out his wallet and moves to step out of the room. "i'm gonna extend another hour for this meeting room, brb."

turns out, nothing, not even wooyoung's 4 hour lecture, could ever prepare yunho for havoc personified

a.k.a. drunk you after a night of celebrating the end of your midterms

"noooo!!! oof-" you stumble against your dresser as you try to run away from the wide-eyed boy standing dumbfoundedly in the middle of your bedroom, your bottle of cleansing oil tightly gripped in one of his hand and your cleanser in the other

yunho rapidly shakes his head like a cartoon character to get his muddled brain back on earth when you ungracefully fall onto your carpeted floor and make no move to get up. he moves closer to gently pull you off the floor as he sighs, "you'll regret not removing your makeup when you wake up tomorrow."

"no !!!" you lift your head up at his words, your pleading eyes look close to tears and yunho panics at the sight. "i don't wanna! my eye makeup looks so pretty today!! i don't want it gone :-("

yunho had to refrain from grabbing one of your pillows and stuffing it in his mouth to muffle the scream that almost slipped out at your cuteness

he also almost screamed fuck it! and hop on the bed to cuddle you to sleep right then and there but he remembers that wooyoung would probably be disappointed in him and he also doesn't want you to be uncomfortable from the smudged makeup the next morning :-(

so he stands his ground and tries to think of something that would get your makeup off while still making you happy

"how about we take some pictures?"

and that's how you both end up having a full blown out photoshoot in your bedroom, with yunho lying down on the floor at a funny angle to take pictures of you posing on the bed with your phone while his own phone rests between his armpits (... don’t ask) to shine its flashlight for extra lighting

he can't help his own chuckles from escaping his mouth as he hears your giggles, his chest warming at the sound

after an estimate of 241 pictures taken, you're finally satisfied and allows him to help take your makeup off

"am i doing this right?" yunho nervously asks, gently rubbing the cleansing oil into your skin that slowly blends with your makeup as you dazedly nod, prompting him to take a hold of your chin to minimize your movement and causing you to giggle

"why are you laughing?" he smiles, watching your eyes crinkle as you continue to giggle softly

"i don't know. i just really really reeeeallly like you."

he knows you're drunk and it might just be a mindless statement and yet still, he can't help but freeze as he feels his heart skip a beat

he stops massaging the oil on your face

you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him you like him—!

“uh,, actually that’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you. i- i like you too—“

“yEah yeah, i know!” yunho feels your hand blindly slap all over his face until you finally muffle his mouth, earning a glare from the boy. “you can tell me that tomorrow. noW get back to cLeansing!!”

yunho huffs and playfully rolls his eyes at you, trying to stop himself from grinning ear to ear while inching you closer to the sink so he can rinse off the oil, “aye aye ma’am.”

“noW uhguh–” you sputter out some water that got into your mouth, earning an oops from yunho, “you have to double cleanse with tHat cleanser,” you point at the tube of cleanser on your sink, “for at least 60 seconds.”

and when he finally lathers the face wash on your skin, he actually starts counting, “one, two, three, four, five, six—”

he'd do anything for you

kang yeosang

there are two things yeosang absolutely hates in this world

number one: your job

“i have to get to work, yeo,” you chuckle, “you gotta let me go.”

the android in question is glued to your arm, refusing to let you out the door by clinging to your arm and snuggling his face into your shoulder in an attempt of convincing you to stay

“You always leave,” the blonde pouts, his eyes glistening at the thought of always being left alone from every weekday morning to wait for you to come back at night. “Why must you go to work? Can’t you just stay here?”

sometimes, you forget that your android is supposed to be a boyfriend android – which is probably why he craves your company all the time

ok you feel a bit guilty now :-(

but you’re gonna have to work because !!! unfortunately, you need money to survive !!!!

“well, unfortunately–” you struggle to untangle yourself from his grip as you try to put on your shoes, “i have to work to get money so that i can buy food to live and pay for my electricity bills that keeps your battery charged.”

he grumbles and lets out a small yelp when you successfully unlatched yourself from him, “That’s so unfair!”

you shrug as your fingers grasp the doorknob to swing your apartment door open, “mhm, it’s called capitalism. see you tonight!”

you come home from work only to find yeosang missing

just as you were about to have your second mental breakdown, you spot a lilac post it stuck to your fridge that reads I’ll be out late. Dinner’s in the fridge. :-) in perfectly aligned and neat handwriting with proper punctuation– it’s definitely yeosang

but where could he have gone to???? you don’t even know if he knows his way around the city !! omg what if he’s lost and can’t find his way back home–

you hear the sound of your front door slamming shut

“Honey, I’m home!”

you immediately rush to your entrance door, ready to reprimand him for going out until so late at night, only to pause when you see yeosang dressed in a… bright pink polo shirt… with a blue apron that covers his front… and a matching blue cap that sits atop his mop of golden hair and wait a minute is that the baskin robbins logo???

“I got a job,” he grins at you, proudly tapping on the circular logo with the initials BR that rests smack dab right above the pocket of his blue apron. “They pay me to scoop ice cream into cups for tiny humans all day! Now you won’t have to work anymore!”

he’s so proud of himself :-D

this way, you won’t be as tired and he also gets to hangout with you all day long at home !! hehe

“you know… if you have a job, that means you’re gonna have to go work everyday,,, so,, you can’t really be with me either way :-/”

his face crumples at the realization

“Do you know the number of the Baskin Robbins down the street? I’ll have to tell them that I’m quitting.”

another thing yeosang hates the most in the world is: you going on dates

“strawberry for golden boy. target located and is currently approaching the table. do you copy? over.”

yeosang can’t really remember why he agreed on showing up with a fake mustache plastered above his lips and a black fedora hiding his blonde hair in the restaurant where you are to meet the guy you’ve been talking to on tinder for days

but anything to make you happy, he guess

sitting in a few tables away from yours, yeosang nonchalantly stirs the spoon in his overpriced cup of hot chocolate as he brings the dollar store walkie talkie upon his lips, “Are the codenames really necessary?”

“…”

he sighs, “Over.”

“of course they are! we don’t want our identities compromised! wait shit he’s getting closer now, i’ll talk to you later. over and out.”

yeosang squints at the guy sitting in front of you, scanning his admittedly handsome face to quickly run a background check on him

.... for safety purposes, of course

choi jongho. born in seoul. went to seoul national university. graduated magna cum laude. is currently pursuing his masters. non-existent criminal record. does environmental volunteer work on a monthly basis. can also ?? break an apple with his bare hands ??

yeosang gulps

this guy is basically perfect

his eyes flits back to you, the sight of you laughing at something jongho said making his stomach churn

and his eyebrows furrow because ?? he’s an android ?? he doesn’t even have an actual stomach so how is he even experiencing all of these overwhelming emotions— oh.

he’s jealous

“—and did you see the way he smiled at me?” you gush excitedly all the way back home, making sure your skips are on par with yeosang’s brisk walk. “he’s adorable! we already planned second date for next week and i’m so excited—”

“52 percent.”

you pause at your tracks, turning to look at yeosang who abruptly stopped walking. “huh? what was that?”

“You’re 52% compatible with Choi Jongho.”

“oh ! i guess that’s not too shabby. although, i thought it’d be a lot higher,” you bring a finger to your chin, deep in thought

“...You’re 96% compatible with me.”

THERE he finally said it

his electric motor is probably overheating from how flustered he is but, according to his system, it’s advised to confess to the person you like instead of holding back your feelings (source: wikihow)

so, he’s doing just that

it’s a good thing that he doesn’t have sweat glands because he’s pretty sure this street would’ve been flooded by now from how nervous he is as he asks, “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

you stood in front of him with your eyes comically widened, and based on your silence, he can kinda guess what’s coming next

aha, looks like he's gonna have to shut down for the next 168 hours!

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, you can forget it. I just wanted to let you know—“ “sure” “—that I like you– ...I’m sorry, what?”

you chuckle at his shocked expression, “i said yes, yeosang. i’ve actually been waiting for you to ask me that.”

(you ended up having to bring yeosang in for maintenance and pay a $150 fee because yeosang literally short circuited at your answer)

choi san

san finds it kinda hilarious how you’ve become his best friend, seeing as you seem to be the complete opposite of him

“what do you mean you hate mint choco??” san gawks, both of his palms lying flat against the glass encasing the freezer lined with tubs of various ice cream flavors as he turns to you with an incredulous look. “how could you even say that?!!!!!”

unbeknownst to san, the blonde baskin robbins employee behind the cashier register scowls at him, annoyed that he’s going to have to clean the fingerprint marks left on the glass

you snort, “everyone knows that cookie dough is superior,” you stick your tongue out at him, eliciting a dramatic gasp from the dark haired boy, “mint chocolate tastes like eating toothpaste with chocolate chips anyway. big yuck.”

“that’s ridiculous!” san, the official defender of the controversial green ice cream, exclaims. “how are you even comparing an oral hygienic product to food?? that’s not fair!! they don’t even taste remotely alike !!!”

“mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night, sannie,” you yawn, purposely flapping a hand over your open mouth to annoy him and you giggle once he starts to pout

“Excuse me," the inhumanely gorgeous cashier calls, surprising both you and san out of the little bubble that seems to form whenever the two of you are together, "are you ready to order? You’re holding up the line.” the blonde says, a grim look on his face

you smile apologetically at the employee who has a blue circular sticker on his uniform that reads new hire and you move to tell him the ice cream you want

while waiting for the employee to scoop your ice cream into a cup, you grimace when you look behind you to see a long line of teary-eyed kids with their glaring parents, probably because it's taking too long to get their ice cream

oopsies

you and san immediately booked out of there after he was done paying

“as i was saying,” san pops in a spoonful of his ice cream before continuing, “mint choco doesn’t taste like toothpaste,” you open your mouth, ready to object, but san took this chance to shovel a spoon of the dessert into your mouth, making you sputter in disgust of the taste and effectively shutting you up, “it’s toothpaste that taste like mint chocolate.”

you pause your steps before turning to look at him in disbelief, “are you even hearing yourself right now?”

he said what he said okay!! and he’ll stand by it ┐( ˘ ､ ˘ )┌

“sometimes…. i wonder what goes on in your brain… because dude, that does nOt make any sense at all.”

ok no, you know what doesn’t make sense?

it doesn’t make sense how san seems to think of you 24/7

when he strolls around the park and sees a golden retriever quietly mingling? that’s you.

the smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee when he steps into his university cafe? he loves it because he thinks it smells exactly like you.

someone’s music leaking through their headphones in the hallways? oh wait, you two blasted this song in his car once.

grocery shopping alone? he better grab some of those birthday cake flavored oreos for you even though he hates them because he thinks they’re too sweet.

it’s just what friends do, right?

“what are we watching tonight?”

ever since you two became friends, it’s become a tradition to hold a weekly movie night at your place

and without fail, san always uses this time to try and convert you to become a mint choco ice cream lover

this would be his 12th attempt

“can we watch inside out?” you say, already munching on your microwave popcorn as you lounge next to him on the loveseat in your living room. “i feel like crying today.”

san almost jumps out of the couch to do his little dance

because you know what they say,,,,,,,,,

when you’re sad, eat ice cream!

and he’s gonna make sure you eat some ice cream, alright!! :-D

specifically, his favorite ice cream flavor that he's got in your freezer :-D

so, in the middle of the movie, right after bing bong tragically disappears into the abyss (san still sheds a tear despite this being his twentieth time watching the film) and he hears your tell-tale sniffles, he dashes off to your fridge and grabs the pint of ice cream he brought for tonight along with two spoons before returning back to stand in front of the tv screen

“fear not!” san announces, holding the pint of ice cream above his head while the other hand that is gripping the spoons is placed on his hip. “i have just the right thing to make you feel better!”

he excitedly pries the lid of the pint open and you groan as you wipe the tears under your eyes, “san, i’m really not in the mood to have mint choco ice cream shoved into my throat today—”

you’re cut off by san almost shooting through your apartment roof as he blankly stares inside the pint, “hUH?”

he furrows his brows when instead of the mint green ice cream, he’s greeted by the thick consistency of creamy soft brown ice cream with chocolate chips

it can’t be

why did he get your favorite ice cream flavor instead of his own?????

he hates cookie dough ice cream, and he’s a hundred percent sure he got a pint of mint choco chip ice cream— wait a minute,

“woah, they’re really everywhere,” san mutters to himself while looking at the shelves as he pushes the grocery store cart, “yn would love this!”

“love what?” his roommate, mingi, pops up, dropping a pack of a party sized barbeque chips into the cart

“yn would love this grocery store,” he says, referring to the newly opened grocery store they're in as he hums, “there's every product that’s endorsed by their favorite k-pop group in here. i’d have to take them here sometime.”

“at this point just date yn already.”

san glares at his friend, blindly reaching for what he thinks is a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream with the thought of you stuck in his head, as always, “i don’t even talk about them that often !!!”

“sure you don’t.”

“is that…. cookie dough?”

“yeah, i guess— oof!” he falls to the ground when you literally jump on him

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BEST FRIEND?!!!”

after san’s reassured you that he’s still him and not some anti-mint choco san clone, you happily eat up the pint of cookie dough ice cream throughout the rest of the movie while san tries to reflect on the new found revelation that he has a crush on you

now, whenever he looks at you, everything seems to fade away and cartoonish pink flowers would appear around you and start blooming (he also hears a soft tune that goes lalalala~ in the background)

oh, and he also thinks he’d stop eating mint chocolate chip ice cream just to appease you

his friends are right, he is a simp

song mingi

long story short… you decided to move into mingi’s 2 bedroom apartment to escape from your insufferable roommate !! :-D

it had been the boy’s idea because you two meet each other literally every single day and so he thought hey, living together doesn’t sound so bad !!! you should just move in with me!! i have a spare bedroom that’s been empty for a while !!

and so you immediately packed your things, left your roommate gaping when she saw her previous one night stand awkwardly waving at her as he helped you load your things to his car, and never looked back

now you’re both currently skipping down the street en route to the local farmer’s market because mingi swears that they have cheaper and fresher produce compared to any grocery store out there

you both stop at the first stall you see

“dude, check it out :O” you point at one of the corns on display, “that one totally looks like nanami :O”

he tilts his head as he tries his best to discern any similarities between the crop and your favorite jujutsu kaisen character………. only to come up with nothing

“hm. i don’t see it.”

“no, no!” you jump up and down, hands flailing everywhere as you try to gesture out corn nanami’s features. “you see! the corn hair is, well, obviously his hair, and the green jacket kinda looks like his suit don’t you think? and oh–”

to any nearing passerby, it seems like you two are a pair of excited newlyweds who were highschool sweethearts as mingi gazes at you fondly as you continue to ramble on about the corn-nanami doppelganger

which sounds totally stupid, but he doesn't mind at all

having been too entranced by whatever it was you were saying, mingi only snaps out of his fixation on you when he realized you caught on to his staring

he clears his suddenly dry throat and his eyes flick to anywhere except you. “ehm, e–EHm yeah right,, i guess he kinda looks like, uh, that corn.”

you playfully bump your side into his arm as you exclaim an “I KNOW RIGHT” and you accidentally start a bump fight when mingi starts practically shoving you back (he sometimes forget just how big he is) and you’re both just giggling at each other like stupid kids until—

“what a good-looking couple! i’ll give you two a discount! :-D”

mingi feels you freeze up against him and shake your head at lightning speed, “oh, we’re not… we’re not a—“

“how much? :-D” he interrupts, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer as he grins at the stall owner who starts cooing

meanwhile, you resist the tempting act of whacking him with your reusable tote bag

and you may be trying to tone down the heat on your cheeks bUT that’s besides the point !!!

you’re not a couple

yet

“how cute!” the stall owner squeals, and you can nearly see the dollar signs in her eyes as gullible mingi fails to see beyond her sly marketing ploy. she hums in contemplation, “hm, maybe i shouldn’t favor you two. wouldn’t be fair for the singles out there, am i right?”

you nervously chuckle, “that’s perfectly fine!” you try to push mingi to move along the market but it’s like his feet are immediately rooted to the ground once he hears compliments directed at you both. “psst mingi, move your ass— aha i’m pretty sure we still have some corn back home anyways—“

“do we really look cute together? :-D”

cue you smacking your palm against your forehead

“why of course!” the woman nods her head eagerly, “absolutely adorable. and especially with a fine handsome young man like you!” she turns to look at you, “he’s a good one. don’t lose him, dear.”

dang, maybe you should ask her which business school she went to because her marketing skills are just straight up fire

mingi knocks his head back as he lets out a hearty belly laugh and if you squint hard enough, you can spot the pink dusting his cheeks. “ah, you flatter me too much, ma’am!.... please tell us more about how cute we look together! :-D”

… he ended up lugging an abnormally large sack of corn all the way home

“people probably think we look like a cute couple all the time, huh?” mingi grins to himself during dinner, eliciting a glare from you as you take another hesitant bite of the… weirdly edible grilled corn salad

your bowls of corn soup and corn rice bowl (don’t ask) along with a cup of sweetened corn for dessert remains untouched while mingi scarfs down his own like a mad man

you don’t even want to know how he’s been surviving on his own

“remind me to never let you grocery shop again,” you grumble, stabbing your fork into the bowl of corn salad as mingi stares at you, finding your anger cute somehow

huh… that’s weird

why does he think your furrowed brows and the aggressive chewing behind your pouty lips are the cutest things ever right now?

uh oh

your heart practically leaped out of your chest as you yelp in surprise when mingi suddenly stands up from the dining chair and sprints to his room without a word

???

you resume back to eating your food

meanwhile, mingi grabs his laptop and looks up a love meter website to calculate love percentage while trying to calm down his erratic heart rate

he quickly types in his and your names into the website and crosses his fingers with his eyes shut as he waits for the results

ding!

he opens his eyes and excitedly reads the words on the screen

90%! Love is in the air!

:-D <3 !!!

“mingi… why are you sitting on my lap.”

“i think i’m in love with you.”

jung wooyoung

“i’m feeling lonely ♫ oh i wish i’d find a lover that could hold me ♫ now i’m crying in my room ♫ so skeptical of love ♫ but still i want it more, more, mOre ♫ i give a second chance to cUPID–”

“sing that song one more time and i will shoot you with an actual arrow.”

“hmph, meanie :-(“

usually, wooyoung would sing along to that stupidly addicting cupid song you always sing whenever you’re with him

but right now, he’s a man on a mission !! and he’s very serious about it

“i need absolute silence,” he mutters quietly, his eyes zeroing at the very serious task in hand with his brows furrowed in concentration

“you’re being dramatic.”

his head snaps up to look at you with a glare. “excuSe me? i’m sorry that i’m the only one who obviously has a passion for art here!!”

and by art, he means frosting heart-shaped sugar cookies

this is like, one of the first few human activities he’s doing !! so he wants to actually be good at this !! (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

he doesn’t know why but he really wants to make you proud :-(

you stifle a giggle when you see his hands practically tremble as he continues to squeeze out the pastel pink frosting from the piping bag onto the heart-shaped cookies

how cute

you walk over to him and gently wrap your hand around his that’s currently holding the piping bag with a death grip, making him let out a small yelp in surprise

“you need to relax,” you softly chide, helping him loosen up his grip to gently guide him into pressing the piping bag properly

meanwhile, wooyoung’s trying to refrain himself from jumping out of your apartment window and flying to mount olympus because he can feel your breath on his neck and his heart is beating a little too fast and omg you’re so close to him &:&;;’js!

honestly, this isn’t the first time wooyoung’s felt this way towards you

it’s just,, he just feels so carefree and himself whenever he’s with you

and also because he thinks you’re the best human ever

and that you have the most beautiful smile

and that if he tries to personify love, the first thing that’d pop up in his head would be an image of you with crinkled eyes and a smile, your twinkly laughter ringing in his ears

but he’d rather let zeus zap him on the butt with a thunderbolt than admit that

“see!” you let go of his hand to excitedly gesture towards the pink cookie you helped him with, “you can do it if you let yourself have fun a little ! this one actually looks pretty decent :-D”

he already misses the warmth of your hand

“are you saying the ones i did before look bad?” he raises a brow, and your eyes nervously flicker to the tray of heart-shaped cookies that looks like it’s been frosted by a kindergartner

you start sweating

“nO of course not aha!!!! haha!!!!” he narrows his eyes at you. “okay not even gonna lie but, they do look kinda bad I’M SORRY”

he huffs, offended. “it's aBstract!”

“it’s lopsided.”

gasp D-:

you laugh when he aggressively rips off his apron before sulking, “i hate baking.”

but he knows that he’d do anything to become human; to leave his cupid errands just so he could be a regular boy who dreams of opening a bakery down the street

and in this alternate universe he’s envisioned, he’d actually manage to do it and that’s where he would first meet you

with his hands coated with flour and him sporting a messy apron, a boyish grin on his lips as he tells you that the small bag of pastry in your hands is on the house and he’d watch as your cheeks endearingly heat up

and then this alternate universe wooyoung would lean against his sleek car as he waits for you outside your apartment for a set date to an amusement park, where he’d win a giant teddy bear for you from one of those rigged game stalls

and he would try his best to make you the happiest you can be every single day

but in this life, he can only distract himself for so long from your fate that's set in stone by the red string intertwined on your pinky finger that stretches out long and far outside your apartment door— a painful reminder of the first thing his mother’s ever told him about love,

that it is never fair.

(he looks at his own gray string looped around his pinky with its short length frayed around the edges before glancing over to you who’s packing the cookies in a tupperware for him to bring while he does his cupid errands, and he knows he doesn’t regret falling for you even though he knows how it’ll end.)

choi jongho

“what do you mean you can’t go????”

jongho may or may not have tears in his eyes right now

“look, man. i really am sorry, i know we planned this weeks ago but it’s an emergency,” mingi sighs from the other line of the call, sounding genuinely regretful. “i really can’t go.”

“the new jujutsu kaisen movie drop isn’t an emergency, hyung.”

“it is !!!!!” mingi exclaims, and jongho wonders whether he’s actually a year older than him. “and i have to be one of the first people who watches it so i’m not exchanging my movie ticket for anything else.”

wow

this hurts even more than the top 10 anime betrayals :-(

“you know what? you should go do it with yn instead. you two look cute together.”

record scratch

jongho almost drops his phone placed on his ear as he feels his cheeks flush a bright beet red. “whAt !!” he squeaks.

“‘kay! i’ll talk to you soon !!!! have fun on the date hehe :-D” beep.

see… the thing is…

jongho really looks up to mingi

he’s his favorite frat brother !!!!!

and so, he finds himself sitting on the couch of your apartment right after the call, obediently following his hyung’s suggestion

curse his soft, compliant heart

“choi jongho, are you asking me out on a date?”

“-!” jongho chokes on his saliva, sputtering out unpleasant noises before bringing his fist to his chest, “n-not a date!” he manages to choke out and you grin cheekily at him. “it’s just a paint & wine class that i was supposed to go with mingi hyung but he ended up bailing, a-and it’s non-refundable and i’ve already paid in full so i’m basically forced to take you instead–”

“yeah yeah,” you dismissively wave a hand at him, already sprinting to your bedroom to get ready. “whatever. i guess i’ll agree to go on a date with you.”

“IT’S NOT A DATE!”

jongho doesn’t know when it all started

after his frat party, you two somehow always meet each other in every party he goes to and you’d both hangout in the corner of the room together, enjoying each other’s company and leaving together when the bass of the loud music finally deafens your ears

and soon enough, you have his number and he has yours, and the party hangouts turn into lunch hangouts that happens almost every day (he looks forward to it and will sulk when he doesn’t meet you at least once a day)

you also like to give him free iced americano and savory pastries from the cafe you work at !! :-D

safe to say, jongho likes you

uH, as a friend !!! of course

yeah

just as a friend

mhm

“psssst, jongho,” you whisper from across the table, stifling a giggle as you eye the other people attending the paint & wine class. “i think you need new prescription glasses.”

“if you ever mention this to wooyoung hyung, i’ll revoke our friendship,” he grits out before chugging his glass of red wine, the tip of his ears flushed red

turns out, jongho had accidentally booked two spots for a paint & wine class reserved for the elderly (which, jongho thinks, is a stupid idea because why would they let old people have a night of free-flow wine????)

the painting instructor actually felt so bad for him that they allowed you two to join the class anyways

so here you are, sitting in the two seat table smackdab in the middle of the room with everyone’s eyes on you

it also doesn’t help that you two decided to dress super fancy as a joke for the night, with jongho wearing a crisp dark gray suit over a white button up that’s barely buttoned and you with a white floor-length evening dress under the apron they gave you

it looks like you both just ditched a wedding or something

which is precisely the look you two are going for !!! :-D

and honestly, his hyungs can tease him all they want for all the mini adventures he does with you but he’s truly the happiest when he’s with you (he will never say this to your face)

“look at what i painted!”

jongho looks up from his canvas to see you pursing your lips in concentration over yours, your hand tightly gripping one of the paintbrushes as you finish up some small details before turning the easel to proudly present the A4 canvas to him. “tadaa!”

the reference for today’s class is an acrylic portrait of a brown kitten and jongho personally thinks he nailed his own rendition of the painting projected on the projection screen in front of the room so he’s really excited to see yours!!!

uhm

“...........yn, that’s not the painting we’re doing today.”

you nod, “i know.”

on your canvas, you’ve painted what looks like a hut with three beds all in different sizes, a dining table with three different sized bowls of porridge, and a family of brown bears with a little blonde boy—

"did you seriously paint me as goldilocks?”

you grin cutely at him, “i did!” you point at goldilocks-jongho on your painting, “you’re with your bear family now! isn’t it cute? :3”

(jongho’s trying his best to not bash his head through the canvas because !!!! nu uh nope nO, he definitely does not like you !!! not at all !!!! it’s just the wine doing things to his brain—)

“and i also painted the bears’ bed sheets purple because it’s your favorite color! and— oh shit.”

a loud clink echoes throughout the room, making everyone's heads (yes, the paint instructor as well) turn to look at your table

…………………

you accidentally plunged your paintbrush in your wine glass instead of the plastic cup of water beside it

both of your eyes widen at the sight of the purple paint staining the red liquid in the expensive glass

and honestly, you can probably just ask for a new glass of wine and apologize for this tiny mistake and it’ll be like nothing ever happened (except for the fact that you'll be embarrassed for the rest of the night)

but where’s the fun in that?

you exchange glances before jongho abruptly stands up from his chair, grab both of your canvases in one hand, and interlaces the other with yours as you two run out of the room, both of your laughters ringing throughout the hallway

“that’s so embarrassing!” you yelp, slamming jongho’s car door behind you before he turns on the engine, quickly backing up from the parking lot to drive away from the building. you groan as you lean back on the passenger seat, “please don’t ever take me to another paint & wine class again.”

jongho can’t help but chuckle at your flustered expression as he carefully place the canvases on the backseat without his eyes leaving the road, “i actually think that was pretty fun.”

“should we get dinner?”

“sure, i know a place. we could pretend we’re having our first anniversary so that they’d give us free chocolate lava cake.”

“are you just using this chance to pretend to be my boyfriend again?” you tease, trying to hide the smile on your face

“why are you so shy about it? we literally made out once–”

“I TOLD YOU TO NEVER BRING THAT UP AGAIN!!!!”

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