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jnginlov · 9 months

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you’re hongjoong’s bias

when you and your group go on idol radio to promote your latest comeback, you don’t anticipate one of the hosts to be completely enraptured by you

⇀ pairing idol!hongjoong x idol!reader

⇀ genre fluff, idol au

⇀ style one shot

⇀ word count 8.6k

⇀ warnings brief mentions of idol life difficulties, food, hugging, kissing, this is basically all fluff

⇀ reactions from the gc “IM GONNA JUMP OFF A MOVING TRAIN” “Ooohhhhhhh Oh Shit” “You love to torment us with this don’t you”

note this is written completely gender neutral, all of your group members use they/them pronouns and have unisex names so you can imagine any type of group, there’s a mention of makeup but all genders wear makeup in the entertainment industry, also here is a little playlist inspired by the group in this fic if you’re real delulu like me

your group, eclipse, had been enjoying your recent promotional period, your fans, lovingly termed starlight, had been working hard to promote your latest comeback and for once your company had been able to do the same. eclipse wasn’t particularly unknown before, you’d already had your first music show win and been recognized at several korean music award shows, but this was certainly your most successful song and mini album yet. you, as the main dancer and oldest, had particularly enjoyed all of the interest from idols that had asked to do the dance challenge with you for tiktok and instagram. it allowed you to meet a lot of people in the industry who you had admired and wanted to get to know before but didn’t know how to approach. of all the idols you had done the challenge with there was certainly one that stuck out in your mind, kim hongjoong, captain of ateez and dj on idol radio.

your group had gone onto the radio show as part of your promotions, something not unusual for you all as you’d been on an episode when youngjae and young k were the hosts, as well as one with joohoney and hyungwon as djs just over a year ago. this time, however, felt very different. maybe it was the nerves from how much more attention your group was receiving that was making you feel a little fidgety in your seat or maybe it was the fact that one of the djs couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

for the first ten minutes of your time at idol radio you’re scared that there’s something on your face, trying to subtly glance at any reflective surface to parse what could be causing someone to pay so much attention to you.

when yunho and hongjoong both seemed to be completely focused on another one of your members, asking something about the recording process for the album, you try to subtly place a hand on the arm of your group’s leader, nuri, sat right next to you.

as you lean away from the microphone in front of you, your leader turns to you, and you breathe out the word “makeup” in hopes that nuri will find whatever smudge caught hongjoong’s sharp eye.

unfortunately, they only shake their head, eyes darting around your face but returning to your own once they don’t find anything. they squeeze your hand gently with their own before turning back to the interview, a subtle gesture to both comfort you and let you know that they will definitely ask why you were concerned later.

as you retract your hand from nuri’s arm, you turn back to face the center of the table, which was conveniently set up so that your and nuri’s seats were directly opposite hongjoong and yunho’s, respectively. meaning that when you turn back to refocus on the matter at hand you instantly notice how hongjoong nervously looks away from you, suddenly finding the side of his co-hosts face extremely interesting.

“so, your latest mini album is called,” yunho begins, looking at the card in front of him to guarantee he doesn’t mispronounce it, “close orbit. this is the end of the orbit series in your concept right?”

nuri nods eagerly next to you before beginning their usual spiel about the members' roles in the creative direction of your group.

often times you’re deemed as the second in command, filling in the gaps your leader may miss, and therefore you’d like to think that you’re pretty good about turning on professional mode no matter the situation. however, from the corner of your eye you see hongjoong’s gaze flitting between you and nuri every few seconds and his behavior has begun to have you a bit nervous, fidgeting with one of the rings your stylist had given you that morning. you desperately try to pay attention to what nuri is talking about but, with the combination of the fact that you already know everything about what they’re saying and the heat that’s creeping up your neck as you try to push the thoughts of hongjoong’s behavior from your mind, you find your own thoughts wandering to hongjoong and his weird behavior.

yunho calls your name suddenly, once nuri is finished, shifting your attention back to the interview at hand and beginning to talk about your involvement in eclipse, aside from simply being a member of the group.

you try not to flick your gaze over to hongjoong too often, who now seems to find the cards he’s surely read over several times before intensely interesting, as yunho acknowledges your skills as main dancer and notes for the audience how involved you are in your group’s choreographic process, which already has a warmth blooming in your chest as you’re aware he’s the main dancer of his own group and you always find recognition from other group’s dancers to feel extra special, but the warmth is quickly transferred to your cheeks only a moment later.

“it’s kind of funny,” yunho starts and you tilt your head in interest as he peaks over to his co-host, “you’re hongjoong’s bias.”

from the look that takes over hongjoong’s face, a mix of shock and embarrassment, and the way he turns quickly to look at yunho with slight anger, you assume that this fact was supposed to stay secret, although you’re partly thankful that you have a seemingly good explanation for why hongjoong hadn’t been able to look away from you since you stepped into the studio.

you’re sure your own shocked expression comes over your face before you’re schooling it quickly, although you hear your maknae, star, sat right next to you, snickering softly under their hand, and you shoot star a quick side eye that seems to remove the humor from the situation for them.

“uh, thank you,” you say with a bow as low as the table in front of you allows, “it means a lot to hear that from a senior like you. thank you for your support.”

“of course,” hongjoong speaks suddenly, mirroring your bow as much as he can before stuttering out a statement about how you’re “so inspiring” and “light up the stage”. his face is getting redder by the second as he digs himself further into a hole but you can feel that your face is heating to match his own.

yunho seems to sense the way he’s pushed the interview off the rails and interrupts to bring attention back to your group entirely and your comeback.

through the next few minutes of the show, you’re noticeably and uncharacteristically distant as you now find yourself to have almost traded positions with hongjoong, subtly staring at him as much as you can manage without drawing immediate attention from your fans or members.

in opposition, hongjoong had now taken to looking at pretty much anything that wasn’t you after yunho had shared his little secret. unfortunately, maybe fortunately, you found that you can barely tear your gaze from the blue haired man across the table.

you were obviously a fan of ateez, being able to appreciate a lot of aspects about their talents and skills, but you’d never really gotten too much into the members themselves, aside from knowing who was who and what they each did. you found that as an idol yourself it could feel weird to try acting like a normal fan of a group, making you almost hyper aware of your own fans and their habits as you would try to focus on just one video that wasn’t related directly to the group’s music or performance.

this had meant that you had no ateez bias, although you knew a decent amount about the members, but now you’re rethinking your whole ideas of being a fan as an idol.

as you think to yourself, you attempt to rationalize the past few minutes, assuming that yunho was just joking around, trying to make fun of his hyung or maybe meaning something different from what your group’s fans meant when they said they biased you. however, every time you’ve managed to start convincing yourself, you’re just reminded of hongjoong’s reaction in the moment his member had said something.

your spiraling thoughts are only serving to distract you and suddenly, feeling a hand on your shoulder to bring you back to reality, you realize that they had started playing one of the songs from your album, letting you and your members grab snacks and wave to the fans through the window. the member with their hand on your shoulder, one of your best friends in the group, eunjae, looks at you with a mix of worry and bemusement, although you hear the slight smirk they wear in their voice as they ask if you’re okay.

you wave eunjae off before you head over to the window, not feeling particularly hungry, and hope that maybe seeing your fans will help to ground you, just as they always do.

as you’re waving through the window at several people with headbands of your and your member’s names you feel a presence beside you, much larger than any of your members. you turn to find yunho near you, not crowding you but obviously intentionally in your space, most likely to draw your attention without suspicion.

“sorry about that,” he says as you turn to him and he gestures toward the snack cart closer to the corner.

you know what he’s doing, trying to make it seem like you two are just talking about the food so as to not make fans question your interaction and so you follow him to the snack cart as you ask, trying not to show any of the question on your face, “about what?”

“making you uncomfortable,” he supplies. “hongjoong had asked me not to say anything but i didn’t think about the fact that he may have been asking that for your comfort rather than his own” yunho says in barely a whisper and you can see a light blush dusting his cheeks.

you’re thankful that your members had basically switched with you, greeting fans after clearing away from the snacks.

“don’t worry,” you reassure. “i'm not uncomfortable, it was more shocking than anything” you tell him, and as you say it you realize it’s the truth.

as an idol you often have to sacrifice your comfort for others but in this moment you aren’t saying it out of necessity but as the truth, and when you glance behind you at hongjoong, who’s intently avoiding all of your members as he also waves to the atiny that are mixed in with your fans, you feel something sparkle in the pit of your stomach. it’s a pleasant feeling, something reminiscent of admiration but more complex, deeper.

you’re not afraid to admit to yourself that hongjoong is attractive, undeniably handsome and, from everything you’d heard, genuinely nice to those around him. you could admire him as a leader and creative, knowing how much responsibility he had and that he still managed to enjoy what he did, but, with both of you working in the industry, dating could be next to impossible.

in all honesty, you’re not sure the last time you’d even had time to explore any sort of romantic interest in anyone, and maybe you were simply deprived of that experience so your brain was running wild with even the slightest exploration of thought. however your company had no dating ban and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to venture into that side of a normal life.

bringing you back to the present moment, yunho lets out a heavy breath and hands you a random piece of candy off the cart that you accept with a slight bow, convincing everyone that might be watching that you were talking about the snacks the whole time.

soon after your interaction concludes, everyone is quick to gather back around the table, taking your seats as your song fades out in the background. the next segment goes smoothly, yunho and hongjoong leading your group in a little game about how much your members know each other.

throughout the game you can’t help but sneak glances at hongjoong, your mind still working through the thoughts you’d had during the break. he appears to be trying hard to not notice you looking at him, but he manages to slip up occasionally and you try to send him a warm, if not slightly teasing, grin each time your eyes connect.

though your original intention with the gesture wasn’t to fluster the man, you find the way he reacts each time to be endearing, the blush returning to his cheeks and even starting to spread up to his ears. every time your gazes meet you feel that same tingle in your stomach begin to spread up to your chest, his expression each time feeding it, and you start to find a bit of comfort in that sensation as you feel like you’re getting to admire hongjoong who you’d been avoiding at the beginning of the show.

you’re starting to have a bit too much fun with this little game you made for yourself when yunho introduces another one of the songs from your group’s album and it starts to fade in, bringing an end to your antics.

this time, as the break starts, you intentionally take a moment before standing, pretending to stretch in your seat and standing slowly as you see hongjoong moving toward the fans out of the corner of your eye. you, as subtly as you can, move toward the fans and in the general direction of hongjoong, trying to get the opportunity to talk to him since he had been shying away from speaking to you ever since yunho’s little slip up. he seems too distracted by an atiny that’s mouthing something to him through the window to notice how close you manage to get.

once you’re sufficiently within speaking range, but not too close, always careful of fan suspicion when you’re in the presence of other idols, you try to casually greet him with a simple “hi” but you’re unprepared for the way he quickly flips around to face you, looking almost like a deer in headlights.

you’re both a bit stuck, just staring at each other before you hear a very obvious fake cough coming from both yunho and nuri that seems to snap you out of it and you each try to play it off with giggles and laughs, mostly for the camera and fans that had been intently tuned in to the strange interaction between the two of you.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you say as you move toward the window, pretending like it had been your intention the whole time to simply say hi to fans once again.

“oh no, uhm, i’m sorry, i don’t know why i reacted like that,” he answers shakily with a nervous chuckle and turns back to the fans as well.

for a moment you both just wave out at the fans, genuinely finding interest in those that had come to support you. after what you deem to be enough time of interaction you finally speak up.

“i’m not uncomfortable, by the way,” you mention casually, hoping hongjoong understands what you mean.

“oh, really?” he sound’s surprised, and you peak out of the corner of your eye to see that he’s trying to hold back the surprise from showing on his face.

“yeah,” you admit. “i’m actually flattered,” you add, turning to hongjoong with a soft smile before you move to the snack cart.

you miss the way his shoulders seem to visibly relax and the grin that spreads onto his face as you leave. fan’s will chalk it up to the fact that he was relieved to be a further distance from you, hongjoong being know to keep his space from the idols that come on as guests, but yunho is quick to spot that it looks more like the expression his captain wears after a satisfying performance or successful interview.

your break is quick to wrap up after that, this song being shorter than the one they’d played earlier, and you’re all back to your seats. you start to readjust in your seat, getting comfortable for the next portion of the show, until you’re passed a head mic and remember that you’re going to teach, along with another one of your members, insoo, yunho and hongjoong the point choreography from your title track.

you’re excited to be back in your element, almost forgetting everything that had happened with hongjoong as you and your member run through the choreography to demonstrate before you’ll teach the boys.

the choreography is nothing too difficult, as your company is always sure to remind you that easier point choreo is more marketable, but it involves a great deal of interaction between you and your member, them starting the section standing directly in front of you, and you manipulate them until they have to squat in front of you.

yunho is quick to decide that he will do your part, claiming that because you’re both main dancers it makes sense as well as sighting the height difference, although the height difference between you and insoo is almost negligible compared to yunho and hongjoong’s height difference, but hongjoong doesn’t put up a fight, the gaze he’d had on you at the beginning of the schedule returning with a different undertone, one you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

the choreography wasn’t particularly sexy, your group not one to lean too heavily into those kinds of concepts, but it was certainly powerful and this particular song made you feel confident, considering you got to be center for the point.

you blame hongjoong’s shift on your own perception, but his gaze certainly reignites the buzz in your stomach, now fully formed into butterflies whose wings brush against the inside of your ribs, longing to be released.

you try to shake it off and step into teaching mode, familiar comfort seeping into you as you take on the most usual role for yourself. you quickly teach yunho your part, and as expected he catches on quickly, and insoo tries to demonstrate what hongjoong should do as best they can, although their part is hard to describe as insoo often goes off of your energy and cues.

when he stumbles out of the ending squat to fall on his butt all three of you that are standing are quick to rush over to him but he just chuckles in slight embarrassment before picking himself up and you all laugh together.

“hm what about you try it with him and i can do it with yunho,” insoo suggests quickly, looking like they just thought of the best solution to hongjoong’s learning difficulties.

you’re a little surprised but agree nonetheless as yunho adds that he’s sure his hyung would be fine with that, but once hongjoong is standing right in front of you it’s not so much hongjoong you’re worried about.

you try to back up a bit, trying to give yourself a bit of distance between you two, but are quick to realize that the choreography won’t work if you’re any further apart and so just as you take a step toward the man in front of you he also takes one into you, realizing that you had both started to get too close to the table now behind him.

your hands are quick to come up to his chest before you can fully fall into him and you jump back as quickly as you can, pulling your hands away as though he burned you.

the same look of shock as when you’d come up behind him during the break is present on hongjoong’s face, and he’s glad there are no cameras that face him right now to see it, but all you can pay attention to is the warmth that you had felt on your palms at the contact between you two.

the whole interaction had felt to you like it was minutes long but in reality it was barely a couple seconds, and you’re once again trying to slip back into the dance teacher role as well as you can when you’re so acutely aware of how close hongjoong is to you in this moment. you can just smell the fading cologne he’d applied earlier in the day, a mix of linen and leather that feels like it turns your brain to mush as you try to remember what you were supposed to be doing with him standing in front of you like this in the first place.

his surprise melts to a look of concern as he sees you shake your head, hoping to clear your thoughts as though they were being physically blocked by all your senses screaming hongjoong.

“so you start like this,” you supply quickly, trying to ignore the way hongjoong won’t drop the worried expression from his face.

you need to move quickly, the man in front of you is starting to make you feel dizzy and you aren’t sure your company, or your members, would enjoy you passing out for seemingly no reason while on a live program.

normally when you dance this part, you make full contact with your member but you can’t bring yourself to touch hongjoong completely, partially fearing you won’t want to let go once you do. instead you ghost your hands along the places you might normally drag them and float over the places you might normally grab.

as you move him slowly into the final positioning you’re realizing that it may have been more torturous to avoid touching him then to just give in to your desire to connect with him, every time your skin makes the lightest contact sending a jolt up through your arms and your breath catching in your throat, if for a moment.

“so that’s it,” you nod, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel and hongjoong looks up at you almost expectantly. you’re waiting for him to move, looking back down at him, and you feel his gaze almost peering through you, like he can see every deep breath you’re taking to try to calm your heart, like he knows exactly how you’ve felt for the past few minutes as you tried to teach him the movement, like he knows exactly what he does to you.

it’s kind of funny how you could feel so small compared to a man that you’re currently looking down on but it’s kim hongjoong who’s looking back up at you, in your clouded brain it seems to make sense.

you’re not sure who speaks up but you hear yunho and insoo moving next to you, although the dull ringing in your ears hasn’t fully subsided. you feel yourself, as though in a daze, move away from hongjoong, something you’re not actually sure you even want to do but your body has decided for you.

as insoo reclaims their place in front of you, you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’d had that entire encounter with hongjoong in front of, not just your friends, but your fans, your managers, and several live cameras. you feel redness creeping up to consume almost your entire face and you’re glad insoo is blocking you. they give you a slight look of concern and you just clear your throat, pushing the thoughts of hongjoong down until they meet the butterflies in the pit of your stomach, taking a breath to urge them to calm down as well.

the rest of idol radio seems to pass in a blur. you’re even more distant than when you were lost in your thoughts earlier, although this time it seems as though your mind is absolutely blank. if you had wanted it to shut up before, now you’re wishing for it to just go, the image of hongjoong squatting in front of you the only thing you can seem to focus on.

you don’t fully come back to your senses until you’re sat in the car that’s set to take you, and your members, back to your dorm, your schedules for the day complete, and although you thought that distance may have aided your situation you were certainly wrong. your mind has taken to replaying the moment you’d shared with him over and over, not sparing a single detail and you feel as though you’re reliving the interaction again as you practically sense the heat radiating from his skin under your fingertips.

“are you, like, good?” star asks, placed once again right next to you. you look at them with what you hope is a convincing smile as you nod gently, before turning back to watch seoul pass in a blur through the window.

that night, you and your members, seven in total, gather to eat the takeout your manager had ordered as congratulations on a good day of promotions and suddenly you feel several pairs of eyes on you.

“what?” you ask, looking between all the members that weren’t currently too focused on their food.

“what was that between you and hongjoong?” insoo asks with a smirk, noddles almost forgotten on their plate.

“what was what?” you ask, trying to will the blush that creeps up your neck away.

insoo rolls their eyes in response, seeing right through your act and very clearly remembering what they had seen when they were stood right in front of you.

“y/n’s crushing on hongjoong,” star sings cheerily before someone’s foot, likely eunjae’s, makes contact with their shin under the table and they hiss.

you scoff at the statement, trying to play dumb to the way all your members were clearly seeing through you. “i do not,” you state indignantly, taking a big bite of your food as you glare at star.

“whatever you say,” star shrugs, a teasing smirk on their face.

luckily the conversation is quick to shift away from you and you’re able to enjoy your meal without any more interrogation.

later that night, as you prepare for bed, you hear a gentle knock on your bedroom door and open it to find nuri.

“hey, what’s up?” you ask, noticing they’re already dressed for bed.

“here,” they say, holding a piece of paper out which you take from their hand with some hesitancy.

“thanks?” you state, although it’s more of a question as you wonder what’s on the slip of paper now in your possession.

“hongjoong’s kakao id,” they say with a nod toward the paper and you blush, clearing your throat quickly. “it’s fine to have a crush by the way,” they continue and your face only grows warmer. “i’d just appreciate it if you'd tell me if you end up dating. easier for me to help.”

you don’t say anything as you just nod your head in understanding, closing your door quickly and pressing your face into your hands in embarrassment.

you place the slip onto your desk, glad in moments like these that you got the only solo room, and debate about adding him. i mean, you hadn’t spoken more than a few sentences to each other, but what could really be the worst that could happen?

you try not to think about how nuri got his id, wondering if maybe they already knew each other and praying they hadn’t asked him for it just for you today, as you add him on your kakaotalk, tossing around ideas of opening messages. eventually you settle on a simple “hi, this is y/n” and send it quickly before you can overthink.

you don’t expect a reply immediately, noting how late it is, but almost as soon as you lock your phone the screen is lighting up with a message back.

hongjoong: hi

hongjoong: i wasn��t sure you were actually going to text me

hongjoong: i mean i know you told me you weren’t uncomfortable but still

a smile stretches across your lips as you realize hongjoong gave his id to nuri to give to you specifically and you scold yourself for being so out of it that he couldn’t give it to you directly.

you: i meant it when i said i was flattered

you: it’s a huge compliment to be admired by someone like you

you try to err on the side of caution. maybe he just wanted to talk to you about work, music and dance, so you tried not to be too informal, ateez and hongjoong being your senior. although you did try to hint that you were interested past a professional, and even platonic, relationship, but it had certainly been a while since you’d flirted with anyone, outside of fan service.

hongjoong: i wanted to ask you something

you: ask away

hongjoong: we have a new song coming out soon and i wondered if you’d be interested in doing the dance challenge for it

hongjoong: with me

you could feel the butterflies awaken inside of you once more, excited at the prospect of being able to see him again and the fact that he asked you specifically about doing the challenge.

you: i’d love to

you: just text me

with your agreement you both wrap up the conversation, bidding each other good night, and you go to bed with your thoughts full of hongjoong and stomach full of butterflies.

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the rest of your own promotional period flies by, successful and rewarding as the support from your fans results in several music show wins and lots of recognition from all over the world. the whole time you try to focus more on work than your recently budding friendship with the leader of ateez, but it’s hard when you find yourself just as excited to end your day and finally be able to message him as you do when you can see your fans or perform. your members have certainly noticed a change in your demeanor, eager to shut yourself in your room to be alone, and some fans have commented about how happy you’ve seemed lately. luckily, your interaction from idol radio is barely recognized, only a few of the usual shippers making theories about your or hongjoong’s behavior that other fans are quick to brush off as a reach.

hongjoong: happy last day of promotions! i hope your schedules go well today

he doesn’t normally text you in the morning but you’d been telling him the night before about it being your last day to promote your comeback and so you check the timestamp on the message to find it was sent around 3am, probably when he managed to actually get to bed considering he’d told you he was working in the studio on ateez’s next comeback.

you shoot him a thank you text back, doubting he’ll see it until he wakes up a little later in the day, and get ready to head out for your schedule.

you were performing on the show again today, a music show that one of hongjoong’s members, yeosang, was an mc on. you didn’t even think much of the fact as you arrived and got ready with your styling team, having interacted with yeosang as an mc during this promotional period already. although as you sat in the hair and makeup chair, ready for the usual routine, a light knock sounded against the door of your dressing room.

after a quick check that everyone was decent, nuri approached the door. you couldn’t see who was on the other side, nuri discussing something with them and bowing as you assume the other person handed them a plastic bag.

you were slightly confused, none of your members or staff having ordered delivery, as nuri closed the door, taking a peek into the plastic bag before heading in your direction.

“here,” they said as they placed the bag onto your lap and you gave them a questioning glance.

“what’s this?”

“from yeosang who said it’s from a friend,” they explain with a wink and you try not to blush at the implication.

nuri walks away without saying anything else and you glance into the bag, seeing a few of the snacks you’d mentioned craving to hongjoong just last night. you push around the items and find a little note, similar to that which had held his id on it, and open it in the bag to avoid suspicion from those around you.

i know how hard it can be to eat during schedules so i hope this can help. good luck today, text me when you win

you try to ignore the way your heart picks up at the thought of him caring this much for you but it’s hard when you know that you’re already so infatuated with him. his confidence in you and your group was also just so heartwarming, something that was certainly making you fall deeper for the man you’d so recently grown attached to.

you munch on the gift as your hair gets styled, a smile unable to leave your face as you debate texting him to thank him. unfortunately you don’t get a chance as you’re thrown into the whirlwind of performing and preparing for a potential encore stage, your group loving to do silly little things for starlight whenever you win.

of course, like most times, hongjoong is right and your group wins for the final time this comeback, celebrating on stage with your fans and members. throughout your encore, your mind drifts to hongjoong, how you can text him and celebrate together.

as soon as all of your members arrive to your dorm, shoes discarded in the entranceway and takeout being served on the table, there’s a sudden ring of the doorbell and half of you freeze. the other half continue on with their tasks as nuri offers to get the door, handing off the serving task to insoo who is more than happy to take responsibility.

“y/n!” nuri calls from the door only a moment later and a few of your members give you a confused look as you shrug and make your way to your leader.

“yeah?” you ask as you approach, turning the corner to see two bouquets, not too large but very beautiful, in nuri’s grasp, the front door closing as you assume the delivery driver leaves.

“this is for you,” nuri says with a grin and you don’t keep the surprise from your features as they hand you the smaller of the two pieces, noting that they are your favorite flowers and spotting the little card in the center.

y/n,

congratulations on your win today. you always look so beautiful when you dance.

hj <3

you don’t try to hide the blush that blooms over your cheeks, your mind hyper focused on the little heart at the end of the message, and turn to nuri.

“what does that one say?” you ask, gesturing to the other bouquet that contains a mix of flowers with your group’s official colors.

nuri turns the bunch to you so that you can read the card.

eclipse,

congratulations on a successful comeback,

ateez

you nod as you turn back to the flowers in your hands, nuri pushing past you to join the other members in the kitchen. you can hear them explain who the flowers are from and mentally thank nuri when they don’t mention your personal bunch.

you manage to sneak the flowers to your room before you head back out to the table for dinner, shooting hongjoong a picture and a quick thank you.

hongjoong: i’m glad you like them

hongjoong: and i meant it, you looked breathtaking today

you suppress your smile as you read his response, trying not to catch the attention of any of your members, but you glance up to see nuri looking at you with a knowing, if not approving, smile.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’ve been following ateez a little more closely now, their newest comeback, bouncy, releasing just last week and doing amazingly on the charts. you’d been sending hongjoong little things like snacks, coffee, and meals to keep him motivated and show your support and he’d been showing his appreciation by sending you pictures of him eating or just selfies of him during schedules.

you were certain that your relationship was headed in a more romantic direction as you both became more bold in your texts. you’d also begun video calling when you were able, sometimes just doing your own things while you were on a call together.

you were eager to possibly try taking the next step and actually go out on a date but with ateez still in the midst of promotion you understood that hongjoong’s free time was limited. so you left it up to him, not pressuring hongjoong by asking him out or even alluding to wanting to date.

“do you know the challenge or do you want me to teach you?” hongjoong had asked one night when you were on video call.

he’d brought up your promise from months ago to do the challenge and you assured him that you were still interested.

“i mean i sort of know it just from watching it a bunch, but if you want to teach me i’m not opposed,” you said with a cheeky shrug and hongjoong grinned.

“i don’t have to teach you babe,” he says with a light chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine.

that was another thing that had started recently, the pet names. hongjoong had accidentally referred to you as “babe” over text one time, rushing to apologize when you had taken just a second too long to respond, but you assured him that you weren’t upset just trying to be able to actually think again when the name had short circuited your brain.

“fine,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “i want you to teach me,” you admit with a slight wine. “there, happy?”

he chuckles again with a nod and an “okay” before you’re setting up the best day for you to meet at the kq company building, having to end the call soon after so that he can actually get some sleep.

the next few days have you on edge as you anticipate being able to see hongjoong in person for the first time since your appearance on idol radio. you even plan your outfit a day in advance, feeling almost like you’re going on a first date as you ensure your hair and makeup are perfect.

“have fun,” nuri says with a knowing wink as you leave your dorm and you don’t give them your normal embarrassed look, too focused on the excitement of seeing hongjoong.

you arrive at the kq building right on time, a staff member greeting you in the lobby and taking you to the practice room where you’ll be doing the challenge. you’d seen this same room plenty before on video, ateez dance practices being one of the few contents you’d watched before getting to know hongjoong.

“he should be here in a second,” the staff says, glancing at her phone, and you nod with a grin.

“its fine,” you assure. “thank you.”

just as you start to observe the room a little more, looking around and comparing it to your own practice room, the door opens and hongjoong enters.

even though you’d seen him on your screen almost everyday for the past week, nothing can compare to the way he looks in person, especially since he’d changed his look. atiny had been going crazy over his newly silver hair and you were no different, texting him how much you loved it as soon as you found out.

“hi,” he says with a smile as soon as he spots you.

you reach out your hand and repeat his greeting, bowing as you shake hands to imitate a sense of formality in front of the staff member.

you don’t want to let go of his hand but you pull away anyway, taking a step back to put some distance between you two and hoping to calm the urge that bubbles in your chest to take him into your arms.

“so, would you like for me to teach you the challenge?” he asks and you bite the inside of your cheek to stop the laugh that builds in your throat at the question, knowing you’d already asked him to teach it to you a few days ago.

“yes please,” you nod and hongjoong gestures so that you can move toward the mirror.

honestly, the choreography is pretty easy to pick up, especially since you’ve watched it so many times already, but you relish in the way hongjoong watches you and decide to just mess around with him a little. it couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions you already knew the answer to right?

“so, is it here or out here?” you ask with an innocent quirk of your brow, placing your left hand out, palm flat and moving it back and forth between two positions.

you see hongjoong’s eyes narrow just slightly, as he had clearly seen you get it right the first time, and you know he’s picking up on your little game. his eyes flick to the staff member in the room, noting that she’s on her phone in the corner, looking away, before he takes a step toward you.

instead of just answering your question he reaches around you, keeping his body on your right and wrapping his left arm around your back to grasp your elbow. he moves your arm into the proper place and you feel his other hand place itself on your waist. as you try to focus on anything but the way his fingers press into your skin he leans his head down slightly, enough so that you can feel his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear and across your cheek.

his proximity has your heart pounding and you almost hope he can hear it, wanting him to know that what he’s doing is working. you want him to know that this is exactly what you wanted, that you wish this is how close you could have him all the time.

“right here,” he says, barely a whisper, and just as you start to lean into him, longing to be completely consumed by his warmth, he steps away and his presence is replaced by the cool air that blows through the vent above you.

you clear your throat as you try to shake away the lingering warmth his touch left against your skin and slow your heartbeat as you go back to rehearsing the movements, for real this time.

you try to ignore the smirk that paints his face as he watches you practicing, a blush painting your own cheeks that starts to match his the longer he stares.

“okay, i think i got it,” you say after a few more rounds of practice. “what do you want to do for the outro?” you ask. “or do you just want to end it after the ‘fly’?”

you turn to hongjoong who looks around the room in thought.

“we could do the ending pose from moonbeam,” he suggests, referring to the title track you’d been promoting on idol radio, and you’re taken aback for a moment.

you’re not so much shocked that he would suggest something to do with your group but that he would choose that pose specifically. it would normally involve you and eclipse’s main vocalist, gam, standing while everyone else sat around you, leaning on each other. you and gam would be staring just past each other as your right arms were tangled in front of you in a sort of love shot position.

“oh, sure,” you say taking a moment to picture you and hongjoong in that position and your blush darkens. “i guess.”

“we don’t have to,” he says, sensing your hesitation. “we can do something else.”

you shake your head as you reassure him, “no, no, it’s fine.”

hongjoong just nods and you run through the challenge once more, practicing the final pose as well and trying to not let the proximity that the pose forces you into affect your face, of course you have no control over how it affects your heart and mind.

“great,” he says, mostly to himself, before calling over the staff member who directs you where to stand and prepares the shot.

the shooting of the challenge itself goes well, you both switching easily into professional mode even if you can see his eyes watching you through the mirror the whole time. you do a few takes, allowing the company to pick whichever they deem best, before you’re done and thanking hongjoong and the staff member for their time.

“oh,” hongjoong perks up before you can begin to head out. “i got you a thank you gift for doing the challenge but i left it in my studio.” he turns to the staff member and asks, “would you mind going to grab it?”

she nods before making her way out of the room, leaving you and hongjoong alone.

your eyes follow her as she leaves but before you can even turn back to hongjoong he’s pulled you into a hug, arms wrapped securely around your waist as he looks into your eyes.

“hi,” he greets with a chuckle, absolutely beaming as you snake your hands around his shoulders.

you giggle in response, your expression mirroring his own, as you finally get to see him how you wish you had for the entire time you’d been in his presence.

“i’ve been waiting to do this for the last half hour,” he says, practically reading your mind.

“so do you actually have a thank you gift or was that just an excuse?” you ask with a tick of your head to the door where the staff member had disappeared.

he looks almost offended as you ask, a humorous disbelief shining in his eyes. “of course i have a gift,” he says and you can hear a slight whine lacing his tone.

“of course,” you say with a chuckle and a shake of your head.

“i would’ve invited you to lunch but the staff would’ve been suspicious,” he adds, “so this is the next best option.”

“i can feed myself you know,” you joke, truly more than happy to have hongjoong buy you meals.

“not if i can help it,” he insists, wrapping his arms tighter and pulling you closer.

you don’t fight against him, your chests now pressed together as you simply wade in the comfort that surrounds you both.

you debate about leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek, wanting to feel the soft skin against your lips, but you don’t. instead you let your cheek fall to his shoulder, resting your head against him and letting the scent of his cologne wash over you.

“what are you doing tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, one of his hands starting to trace along your spine, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“mm,” you hum in thought as you try to remember your schedule. “we have shooting until five and then eunjae wants to watch a new movie,” you say before lifting your head from his shoulder. “why?”

he lets out a breath and his hand comes to a stop on your back, both of his hands gently holding either side of your waist. the smile he gives you seems nervous now, not quite reaching his eyes.

“i wanted to ask if you’d like to get dinner with me tomorrow night,” he explains with a gentle squeeze of your hips. “but if you’re busy we can do it a different night.”

you shake your head quickly, face red and smile as wide as your lips can manage. “eunjae can wait one more day for that movie,” you giggle and watch as his own smile grows.

his hands move from your waist and you start to pull your own arms away when his palms are suddenly on your cheeks, holding your face, and your own hands fly up to cup his. neither of you speak as you glide your hands down to wrap your fingers around his wrist gently, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as his eyes flick between your own.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, trying to see any form of discomfort that might appear on your expression.

“yes,” you respond and before you even finish he’s bringing you into him, lips pressing against your own as softly as he can.

it barely lasts a second before he’s pulling away, his eyes once again searching your own for any hint as to how you’re feeling.

“again?” he asks with a smirk when he notices your lips still puckered and chasing his.

he doesn’t wait for your response this time, diving back into you with an eagerness that challenges your own.

his lips move in sync with yours, one of his hands shifting to the side of your neck and the pads of his fingers pressing into the skin there, sending a shiver down your spine that you're sure he notices by the way you feel him smile against your lips. hongjoong hums gently, the sound vibrating from his own chest to yours and causing you to melt into him further.

you try to pour all of your appreciation for him into the kiss, desperately grasping onto his biceps like he might just vanish at any moment. you hope that he can understand just what you’re trying to tell him, that in this moment, and every moment you’ve shared, he’s made you feel normal. when you were with him, talking to him, you weren’t an idol and neither was he, you were both just you, human and flawed, and in love.

he pulls away after a moment more, placing a few light pecks against your lips before separating completely, and you try to chase his lips again but his hold on your cheek keeps you in place. instead, he presses his forehead against your own, eyes closed as he focuses on steadying his breathing while you flit your gaze around his face, trying to commit each feature to memory.

after what feels like an hour of just existing in the comfortable silence that has engulfed you both, hongjoong pulls away from you, his eyes opening slowly as his hands return to your waist, your own grip on his arms loosening.

“so tomorrow?” he asks, biting his lip before you bring your thumb up to pull the flesh from between his teeth and he places a gentle peck against your finger.

“it’s a date,” you confirm, leaning in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth.

he smiles and says, “i’ll text you,” before he takes a few steps back, forcing you both to separate and you immediately miss him even though he’s still stood right in front of you.

only a moment later the staff member from earlier is stepping back into the room, carrying a bag of your favorite delivery food and making a beeline to you.

you bow in thanks when she hands it to you before doing the same to hongjoong, showing your formal appreciation for the gesture, and the staff member is offering to guide you out of the building.

you’re quick to bid hongjoong goodbye, worrying that you might never leave him unless you go now, and the staff leads you back out the way you came in.

as soon as you make it back to your dorm you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, a text from hongjoong lighting up the screen.

hj<3: can i officially say i’m dating my bias?

↼ ateez masterlist

note this started as delusional texts in the group chat based on the specific instagram photos in the header and turned into this

tell me your thoughts

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yuyusuyu · 5 months

Text

birthday surprise!

pairing. idol! kim hongjoong x gn! non idol! reader

synopsis. hongjoong knows wooyoung is up to no good... which is a good thing because he sure is in for a pleasant surprise at midnight!

warnings. a few curse words (lolsies), pet names (it's just one i think), a little bit of violence (it's not bad i swear, but someone gets a lil physical IJFAIWJ), mentions of food, lovesick couple energy (ew), reader is a foreigner!

genres. fluff, romance, slight comedy?, established relationship

rating. sfw

wc. 1.6 k

a/n. birthday special for hongjoong ! (we are going to pretend like i posted this on his birthday and that it was posted in november okay 😻)

reblogs and comments are appreciated as it helps with not getting shadowbanned!

HONGJOONG knows something is going on. something evil is brewing right under his nose and he needs to find out right now because for the hundredth time now wooyoung has given him a knowing look accompanied by a smirk. why the hell is he smirking? he has to be plotting something against him. his downfall, maybe?

he taps his foot on the ground, checking the time on his phone every once in a while waiting for wooyoung to finish his shoot, having decided to wait for him to go back to their dorm together. the time is nearing midnight; hongjoong huffs and crosses his arms over his chest.

“you look like you’re losing your mind, hyung.”

“shit, jongho! you scared me,” hongjoong jumps, glaring at the younger male out from the corner of his eyes. “what are you still doing here?”

“i just finished shooting,” jongho shrugs, “are you waiting for wooyoung hyung?”

with a nod, he presses his lips into a thin line. “yeah… so i can figure out what he’s up to.”

“i think you’re being paranoid—”

“see!” hongjoong points at wooyoung, gawking at him. “he did it again.”

“...did what again?” jongho glances at wooyoung, shooting him a glare and looks back at hongjoong quickly.

“he just winked at me!”

snorting, jongho pats his back. “hyung, wooyoung always winks at everyone.” a chime from his phone has him checking it once, turning away afterwards, “i’ll see you back home, hyung.” jongho leaves him after bidding goodbye to wooyoung with a wave of his hand. hongjoong goes back to patiently waiting for wooyoung to finish, entertaining himself on his phone.

hongjoong: hey there

yn: hi there stranger

hongjoong: you’re up?

yn: i think i should be asking YOU that. isn’t it nearing midnight for you, mister?

hongjoong: it is

yn: filming, i assume?

hongjoong: yeah

hongjoong: hey can you send me a voice memo? kinda want to hear you right now

yn: how about i call you instead?

your caller id flashes on his phone, his lips curling into a small smile when he answers. “hi,” he breathes out, walking out of the building. hongjoong leans against the wall next to the door, looking down at the screen when you hum out a greeting in return. “how are you?”

you laugh, “i’ve been better. how is my pretty boy doing?”

“doing just fine,” he answers, chuckling. “i miss you.”

“woah,” you gasp, “is the kim hongjoong being mushy with me right now?” your face is shrouded in darkness, only illuminated by the lighting from your phone—which, now that he thinks about it, is weird. it should be morning for you right now.

he shakes those thoughts away, thinking that you probably still have the curtains drawn in your room. “don't be a brat,” he huffs through his nose, amused. “or else i won’t be like this anymore.”

you apologize quickly, making his smile turn into a cheshire grin. “why are you still in bed, dear?” hongjoong drawls, his eyes twinkling when he watches you start to stutter. he isn't very affectionate, but he knows that you love it and cherish the moments when he is. pet names? they make you swoon. “you should get up now.”

when you're about to reply, you end up falling and disappearing from his sight. worriedly, he calls out your name. “i’m fine!” you pop up on his screen again, though it’s just your eye staring into the camera, blinking.

hongjoong raises a brow, “now what are you up to, y/n?”

“absolutely, no—” you pause, disappearing from his screen again and returning momentarily. “gotta cut the call short, joongie. i’ll call you later, okay?”

“y/n, wait—”

“i love you, hongjoong,” you sing.

baffled, hongjoong replies, “i love you, but what—” the call ends and he’s left staring at his text messages with you. shoving his phone into the back pocket of his pants, he straightens up when the doors to the building slam open, wooyoung walking from them.

“oh, hyung!” he says, “why are you out here?”

“i was on the phone,” hongjoong replies, leaning forwards to peer inside the building. “are you done?”

“yeah.”

humming, he excuses himself to thank the staff for all of their hard work and returns moments later. he’s motioned into a car along with wooyoung, their manager dropping him off at their apartment. they both walk in unison towards their home, the oldest’s steps are sluggish, sleepless nights finally catching up to him while the younger one’s are energetic, a bounce in each step he takes. but as soon as they reach the door, wooyoung shoves himself in front of hongjoong, shouting, “i’ll get the door!”

the little voice in the back of his head heightens his senses, telling hongjoong that, again, wooyoung is up to no good. so he leans back, watching with careful eyes as he fumbles around with his bag. “sorry,” wooyoung mumbles, “i’m looking for the keys.”

“wooyoung?”

he responds with a hum.

“we don’t have keys,” hongjoong stares at the back of his head, seeing how wooyoung freezes. “we have a passcode which i’ll put in.” he moves to step in front of wooyoung, only to end up in a fight over who gets to open the door.

“hyung, let me open the door!” wooyoung whines, trying to hook his foot behind hongjoong’s ankle in an attempt to trip him.

hongjoong tries kicking wooyoung’s legs in retaliation, attempting to shove him away from the door. “you’re being weird, wooyoung! let me—oof!” wooyoung successfully trips hongjoong; he lets out a triumphant noise of sorts, checks his phone and steps aside, smiling widely as the oldest stands up slowly.

“okay, you can open the door!”

gawking at him, hongjoong grumbles profanities and punches the passcode in. the door unlocks with a click and he takes a step inside, taking his shoes off and putting them neatly on the side before walking over to turn on the lights, only for wooyoung to jump on his back and clamp a hand over his eyes. hongjoong staggers forwards, quickly regaining balance. “what the hell, wooyoung? what are you doing?”

“it’s not midnight yet!” he hisses, yelping in surprise when hongjoong manages to shrug him off.

glowering at him, hongjoong crosses his arms over his chest and taps on the ground with his foot. “now, what is going on—”

“surprise!”

the lights are turned on, blinding both males. however, the sound of familiar giggling has his heart beating faster. he slowly turns around, thinking to himself that there’s no possible way that you were here and—oh, but you are here. you, his beloved partner, standing amongst his members, squeezed between the tallest of them all, while holding a birthday cupcake with a singular candle on it, smiling widely at him.

“oh look at him,” gags jongho, “he looks lovesick!”

“i do not,” hongjoong retorts, shuffling forwards.

“i got you a cupcake,” you sing, holding it out to your boyfriend when he stands in front of you. “because i know wooyoung would have tried shoving your face in a cake like last time.”

“damn right i would have!”

“let’s give the couple some space, yeah?” seonghwa ushers everyone towards the kitchen with promises of letting everyone get the food out from the fridge.

when it’s just the two of you in the living room, you open your arms up and hongjoong dives straight into them, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck, his breath hitting your skin and causing goosebumps to appear. “miss me much, lover boy?” you tease, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

all hongjoong does is nod, continuing to breathe in your scent for a few more moments before speaking, “you were here this whole time?”

“i actually got in after you left for filming to prepare the place,” you say, laughing softly. “you should thank wooyoung and jongho. they helped in buying my ticket and booking a hotel—.”

“and who said you’re going to stay in a hotel when you can just stay with me?”

“um… no thank you.”

hongjoong pulls back, eyebrows pinched together and his lips pulled into an adorable pout. “and why not?”

“because i’ll start nagging at you,” at the sight of hongjoong’s shoulders drooping, you continue, “i’m just messing with you, silly.”

your boyfriend’s pout becomes a frown that soon turns into an amused smile. you had reached over to the cupcake with your arm that’s wrapped around his shoulder, taking a bit of the frosting from the small desert and smearing it across his cheek, giggling.

“well, aren’t you quite the mischievous individual today?” he grins, resting his hands on your waist.

you shrug, “only for the birthday boy.”

“ew! they're kissing!” wooyoung screeches. you weren’t. he’s just exaggerating.

both you and hongjoong wince, hongjoong resorting to leaning over slightly—you cling onto him when you end up leaning backwards because of him, but he holds you easily—to grab a pillow from the couch to fling it at him. wooyoung dodges and the pillow hits jongho. with wooyoung laughing and jongho flinging the pillow at him, hongjoong watches you. he sees your eyes close from how hard you’re laughing at wooyoung running away from jongho chasing him around the apartment, he sees your lips start to tremble from how hard you're smiling, and he sees the way your eyes glimmer when you glance at him.

that evil thing brewing right under his nose was nothing of that sort; instead, it was a very nice and pleasant surprise that came in the form of his significant other flying out to celebrate his birthday at midnight with him… and the others as well.

perma taglist. @asjkdk @kodzukein @hrt4jeno @jeonride @lissiesykes @satsuri3su @atinytownclown @sanhwaism

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cheollipop · 1 year

Text

chicken noodle soup

navi | taglist | pt.2

pairing: choi san x gn!reader

w.c.: 2.0k

tags: sick fic, fluff, so much fluff, I warned you

After a whole day without a peep from your boyfriend – someone who couldn't go an hour without talking to you – you make your way to his apartment. Panicked, you walk in, only to find him battling with a cold, hair greasy and dishevelled. Tucking him into bed, you make him soup and nurse him back to health with as many kisses and cuddles needed to see those dimples breaching the soft skin of his cheeks.

A/N: when I finished writing this, I definitely did not scream into a pillow while kicking my feet. and I absolutely was NOT smiling and giggling the whole time I was proofreading it either.

Your keys rattled and chimed in the empty hallway as you unlocked the door with the spare key your boyfriend had given you. You weren’t sure what to expect exactly – was he kidnapped, did someone break in and hurt him? He was a strong man, fully capable of protecting himself, but what if he had been ambushed? You battled these thoughts and begged them out of your mind as you stepped into your boyfriend’s apartment. No blood on the floor. You almost sigh in relief. But also no San in sight.

He often reminded you of a puppy on crack, unable to contain all the energy and excitement rushing through his system. He couldn’t go an hour without texting you – asking about what you were doing, sending you random selfies with his face smushed against the camera, spamming you with pictures of a cat he saw on the street, using anything and everything as an excuse to talk to you. So him going missing for a whole day? It’s definitely a reason to panic.

A door opened to your right – the bathroom. It’s too late to hide. The intruder will take you just like he took San.

A mop of greasy hair peeked out of the doorway; eyes wide as they took in your presence. You finally let out that sigh. San. You moved forward to wrap your arms around him, but he stepped back.

“I’d keep your distance babe, I’m pretty gross.” His voice was hoarse, eyebrows furrowing as he swallowed around his dry throat. You took in his appearance, hair sticking up, left, right, anywhere but down, his eyes bloodshot and teary, nose sniffling. You’d think he was crying if it weren’t for the painful bob of his adam’s apple as he tried to swallow around his inflamed throat.

“Are you sick? San, why didn’t you call me?” You covered his forehead with your palm, heat searing through your skin upon contact.

He sniffed. “It’s just a cold. I didn’t want you to worry.” You almost leaned in and kissed the pout off his lips, but you managed to stop yourself.

“Oh, Sannie.” You noticed the sway of his limbs as he used up the last of his energy to remain upright, taking one of his hands and moving towards his bedroom. “Let’s get you into bed.”

You moved the ladle around in the pot, watching the different veggies swim in the simmering broth, overlapping with the noodles and chicken. Your mind was elsewhere, stuck worrying about the man you tucked into bed two hours ago; still sleeping soundly, even with a stuffy nose. You felt silly fretting over a simple cold, but seeing San drained of all the energy he loved sharing with everyone around him was not something you were used to. You heard him cough a few times as you poured the soup into his favourite bowl – Shiba Inu’s decorating the glossy exterior. Placing it on a tray, you peeked your head through his bedroom door, checking on the slumbering man inside.

“Hello,” his gravelly voice greets you.

“Good morning, princess,” you smile, placing the tray on his nightstand, switching on the lamp. The light was bright enough for you not to trip over his mess and die, but dim enough not to hurt his sensitive eyes.

You helped him sit up against his headboard, his head tilted sideways to watch as you pull his gaming chair away from his desk, using it to sit by his bed.

“Have you always been this pretty, or is it the cold doing something to my vision?”

Your cheeks flushed, and your hands fumbled to grab the spoon set next to the bowl, the tray resting evenly over your thighs. The liquid rippled at your movement and San’s lips quirked upwards, dimples dipping into the skin of his cheeks. You scooped some soup into the spoon, blowing softly at the steaming liquid before bringing it to San’s mouth, hand cupped under his chin. He let out a prolonged moan as he swallowed, closing his eyes and shaking his head slowly in delight – an exaggeration. He stopped as his headache panged harder against his temple, pressing his fingers against it, eyes scrunched shut.

“Idiot,” you said. A cute idiot, your brain added.

His hand clutched his chest, eyes opening to peer at you. “Is this how you treat a sick man, (Y/n)? I’m hurt.”

“You have a cold. You’re not dying.” You poked his cheek, where his dimple would usually be.

You resisted the urge to kiss his pouty lips yet again, your fingers twitching around the spoon you were holding idly. This task was becoming more and more difficult by the second. You settled on pinching his cheek, fingers slipping to stroke against his jawline. You shared the comfortable silence, gazing into his droopy eyes, tracing lines down his jaw, and circles on the high of his cheek.

Then he sneezed. Everywhere. And again, the second one ripping through his chest in a way that must have hurt.

He babbled apologies as you grabbed the tissue box by his bedside. “Baby, blow your nose.” You stifled a laugh as you watch him do as you said, wiping your own hands with wet wipes you pulled out of his nightstand drawer. You pull another wipe out, reaching over to San’s sulky face, running it over his skin. The wrinkles between his eyebrows smoothed, savouring the cool touch of the wipe across his heated skin. You couldn’t help yourself, leaning in and planting a soft peck against his forehead, and his cheek, then his other one.

“Babe, stop,” he complained, half-heartedly trying to push you away, yet the smile splitting his face betrayed him.

“Stop what?” you pressed your lips to the corner of his, straying down to his chin, his jaw, then back up to his nose, eyelids. Then you started over, back at his forehead.

How could he pretend not to enjoy the softness of your lips against his skin? All he wanted was to pin you down and smother you with his love, and yet he couldn’t get you sick. Even though you got all whiny and needy, clinging onto him and nuzzling into his chest, claiming he was warmer than all your blankets combined. He did contemplate it, for a few seconds maybe, but ultimately decided against it. And yet, he would never deny the love you gave him.

“You know, I heard mouth-to-mouth helps get rid of colds reaaal quick.” The corners of his mouth tilted upwards, staring up at you through hooded eyes, drunk on kisses.

“Oh, really?” You couldn’t help but smile, endeared by this sudden change in attitude. He leaned closer to your face, lips puckering.

You shoved a spoonful of soup in his mouth, laughing as his eyes went wide, trying his best to swallow the liquid without choking.

“Ya! What was that for?”

“Keep your cold to yourself, Choi San,” you narrowed your eyes at him, eventually giving in and letting the smile you’d been hiding back stretch your mouth. You swear he will be the reason you’d get premature wrinkles in your smile line.

You fed him the rest of the warm liquid in silence. San’s head rested against the wooden headboard, eyes trained on you, not even looking at the spoon as you pushed it towards him. He trusted you wouldn’t let it spill on him. Besides, your face was too distracting – the way the tip of your tongue breached the corner of your lips in concentration, how your eyebrows furrowed and you’d mutter his name o’ so softly whenever San would get too absorbed in watching you to open his mouth, when your eyes lit up after he swallowed the last of the soup you had made for him. Everything about you was distracting, from the way your fingers softly worked to clean his mouth with a napkin, to the smile stretching your face, the corners of your eyes crinkling.

“You’re so beautiful,” he blurted out.

You were taken aback, eyebrows raising in surprise at the sudden statement. Blood rushed to your cheeks, and the butterflies battled within your stomach.

“Is this the cold speaking?”

“No. It’s me,” his face remained neutral, eyes focused on you. “You’re the most beautiful person I have ever had the honour of laying my eyes on, inside and out. You always will be; I don’t think a person more beautiful than you will ever exist.”

Your lips parted, then closed, then opened again. You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? That whenever you were with him, he flooded your senses with joy, happiness, comfort? That his face alone could light up your whole world, and you felt like you could weather any storm so long as he remained by your side? And when he spoke so softly to you, throwing the sweetest phrases at you like it were nothing, you felt like you were being ripped apart from the inside by the voilent fluttering of butterflies in your stomach?

Love is you, was all you could think in that moment.

Before you could think of a response, a shiver ran through his body, his limbs shaking with the force of it. You stood up, tray in your hands. “I’ll grab some more blankets for you.” He took a hold of your wrist before you could move to the door.

“Don’t go. I’m okay.”

You hesitate.

“Just cuddle with me.”

You finally realized the power Choi San held over you as you carded your fingers through his matted locks. His face nuzzled against your collarbone, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Limbs tangled up under the thick comforter, you eased yourself down onto the pillow under your head, fingers scratching against San’s scalp. He hummed, soft puffs of air warming your skin. You felt him plant soft kisses along your neck, smiling against the column of your throat.

“Are you feeling better, Sannie?”

“Mm, my head still feels funny.”

You smiled, placing a kiss against the crown of his head, resting your lips there for a couple seconds before pulling back.

“Much better,” he purred, planting a peck of his own onto the nearest patch of skin to his lips.

You giggled, fingers continuing their ministrations against his scalp. The both of you laid there, bodies a tangled mess, breathing the same air, empty bowl of soup forgotten on the nightstand.

Soon, San’s grip around your waist would ease, his breathing growing even, body slumping against yours. You would lay there, marveling in the soft snores vibrating through the quiet room. He would deny this with his very being the next morning, but you’ll play along, keeping the voice notes you secretly recorded to yourself – perhaps sharing them with Wooyoung later on. Because just as adorable San was when he was sulky, you couldn’t help but try to keep him smiling. You would do anything to keep those dimples on show, every second of every day, for as long as he would allow you to remain by his side.

Soon, you’d sense your own drowsiness tugging at your eyelids until they fell shut. Your fingers would gradually cease their movements, stilling against his head, trapped between the soft strands. You’d nestle your face against San’s, unbothered by the germs that would soon sneak their way into your system. He’d take care of you if you ended up catching his cold, you were sure of it. Because just as much of an idiot San was, he never failed to make you feel safe, cared for, loved.

You surrendered yourself to the grip of sleep, San’s warm skin sending bolts of heat coursing through your body. Slipping into a comfortable slumber, your dreams – as usual – revolved around the man you were so helplessly infatuated with.

pt.2

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lovelyuyu · 3 months

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yunho x gn!reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni), sex infront of a mirror, big dick yunho, unprotected sex (not good 👎🏻)

———

thinking about yunho fucking you infront of a mirror. he would make you look at each of you, make you look at the way that his cock disappears into you.

“does it feel good, baby?” he would whisper against your ear, never ripping his eyes away from the mirror as his hips piston into you.

“mmm.. it feels so good, yunho” you’d moan out, slightly clenching around yunho’s cock.

“touch yourself for me, darling. make yourself cum extra hard on my cock, hm?” yunho said, eyes trailing from the mirror to where the both of you are connected, gasping softly as soon as he realised how close he himself is.

you did as you were told, touching yourself where your most sensitive, and moaning out loudly at the contact. you could tell yunho was close too, because he was gasping in your ear, the slight grip on your hips getting just a little bit tighter.

“yunho! im cumming!” you say as you feel your high washing over you completely, clenching around yunho, your body shaking slightly.

“good, baby, cum for me. i’m cumming too, mmm” his hips still, his big cock inside of you as he fills you up with his warm cum.

#ateez smut #yunho x reader #yunho x gn reader #ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #yunho smut #i wrote this for myself i’m ngl #but i really hope that y’all like it !#i will be writing alot more :3 #bunbun’s thoughts #ateez fanfic #ateez imagine #ateez fic #ateez yunho #ateez

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sxcret-garden · 4 months

Note

hear me out.... san + edging.... whether its recieving or giving i just know hes a tease

Absolutely yesyesyes!!! Loves both but I think he enjoys being edged even more than edging his partner so hear me out...

The way he desperately cries out as you take your hand away from his painfully hard cock for the fifth time in a row without letting him cum makes you feel the need to make it up to him somehow. And so you lean in, pressing soft kisses up his toned abs while he's repeatedly sucking in air violently. You have him tied to your bed, and at this point San is shaking underneath you, thighs trembling and his lips quivering as an exhausted groan escapes him with each time he exhales. His eyes are still squeezed shut tightly when you bring your hand up to his hair, combing through it and the loving motion seems to have a calming effect on him.

"You good?" you ask as you come closer to his face now, pressing your lips against his forehead.

"Mhm..." he mumbles weakly, finally opening his eyes. The desperation behind his gaze makes heat rush to your core all over again, and seeing him in this state makes you want to keep doing this all night. But that thought only stays for a mere moment. Instead, you offer,

"One more time. And if you can take it, I'll let you cum inside me." San can only whine in response, a deep blush on his face, but he nods vigorously anyway. And so you wrap your fingers around his length, beginning to jerk him off at a painfully slow pace once again.

"F-feels so good... Y/N... f-fuck..." he continues whining, almost no strength left behind his words, and you watch fondly as he's getting closer and closer to yet another high you won't let him have.

#i have a weakness for sub san have you noticed..... 🫠#ateez smut #san smut #ateez x reader #san x reader #ateez imagines #ateez x gn reader #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez scenarios #smut #hard hours

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starry-nights-garden · 3 months

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Mingi ✧ 9:37pm

✧ Ateez Mingi x gn!reader ✧ words: ~1.2k ✧ genre: angst, comfort ✧ warnings: reader breaking down crying, mentions of reader considering hitting themselves

Desc.: Your boyfriend Mingi notices something’s off about you right away as you’re trying to keep it together so as not to break down crying in front of him. In the end the tears come out anyway, and he’s right there with you to comfort you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure,” you answer coldly, feeling yourself getting annoyed at your boyfriend’s repeated question. You busy yourself with rummaging through your bag that you had put on the chair in your room - at this point you forgot what you were searching for in the first place, but you obsessively keep your hands busy with its contents anyway. Mingi falls silent, strangely silent, or maybe it’s your overall agitated state that causes you to tense up, because you desperately wish for him to just start a casual conversation with you about fuck knows what.

“I don’t think so…” you hear him mutter, and the sadness resounding in his voice has you gulping. You bite your lower lip because you know if you don’t, your own sadness will break out of you as well, and so eventually you decide it would be better to go find something else to do, solely for the purpose of moving into a position where instead of seeing the side of your face, he can’t see your face at all. You move to your wardrobe, opening it in an attempt to decide on your outfit for tomorrow in advance, but Mingi’s gaze that’s glued to your back won’t let you focus. “Y/N,” he calls out your name, speaking softly, and again you feel yourself coming close to the verge of breaking.

“What?” You manage to force out a single word, your voice cracking from the strain you’re putting on your whole body, and upon hearing his next words, you feel the anxiety spreading through your body like an explosion.

“Look at me,” he says. “Please.” Your legs trembling, you know you shouldn’t refuse. If you want him to believe you when you say you’re just fine, you should prove it to him by putting on a brave face, just like you had done all day. And so you turn around, and you think you end up glaring at him instead of the confident expression you had planned, but you can’t tell. It’s almost like the fear and the pain you’ve been holding in for days is making you numb to all other sensations you should be feeling in your body.

Your boyfriend has made himself comfortable at the edge of your bed, upper body leaned slightly forward as he shoots you a worried expression. He knows. And still you stay stubborn. You’ve broken down every time you came home and were finally alone in your room at night for the past few days now, you don’t want to go through this again - especially not in front of him. You don’t want him to worry, you don’t want to burden him, and you will make damn sure he won’t. So why does it feel like he’s about to break down the walls you’ve built up around yourself with his bare hands?

“Y/N,” he says your name again, sweetly, and you currently hate him for it, because it’s not helping with your plans of keeping it together at all. “Come here.” And then he pats the empty space next to him, on top of your fluffy blanket, and you freeze up completely. You know that if you walk over there and sit down next to him it’ll be just like the past few nights - and yet, even just the thought of it makes you tear up. It’s like hearing his words has formed a crack in your facade, and with every breath you take and let out again, it’s only getting bigger. You can’t stop it anymore, and as you sink to the ground and the sobs violently make their way to the surface, you close your eyes and hide your face behind your hands in one last sorry attempt to not let him see what’s really going on inside.

“Baby…” you can hear him breathing out right beside you only moments later, his steady hands placed on your shoulders as he crouches down next to you.

“I’m s-sorry… I’m… s-so sorry…” you whimper as the tears stream down your face, guilt overwhelming you, but you just can’t make yourself stop crying. You form your hands into fists, considering whether punching yourself would make a difference and help you stop crying, but when you feel Mingi’s hands leaving your shoulders only to wrap around your wrists instead, the anger at yourself leaves you along with the strength in your limbs.

“It’s okay…” he mutters. “It’s okay.” He carefully adjusts your position until your back is leaning against the surface of your wardrobe door that he must’ve closed in advance, and when he leads you to lean your head against his shoulder you simply accept it. One arm wrapped around you, he pats your back gently and at a slow pace, and as you feel your heart beating in tune to his touches, you can finally somewhat relax.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you say, having trouble keeping your voice steady, but he hears you.

“Why?” he turns his head, his lips brushing against your temple.

“Because… I dunno…” you mutter, too tired to put all your complicated thoughts into a coherent sentence.

“You don’t have to,” he answers, extending his neck so he could place his chin atop your head now as he tightens his embrace around you. “Just know that I’m here if you need me… and that you don’t need to be strong when you’re with me.”

“But-” Mingi simply shushes you and shakes his head when you’re about to protest.

“I love you for who you are, not for all the strong faces you can put on.” Upon hearing his words, you tear up again, and you instinctively hide your face in his chest, reaching out to grab his shirt now as you cling to him. His hand patting your head for a while, he continues speaking eventually. “You know I’m not always good with words, but I just want you to know that you can be yourself with me, and I’ll accept all of that - the good sides and the bad sides. Okay?”

“Okay,” you mouth an answer. With his hands back on your shoulders, he brings some distance between you two so he could get a proper look at your face, and when he sees the state you’re in, he furrows his brows. You avoid looking directly at him, still embarrassed about your puffy eyes and the tear stains on your whole face. You sniffle at him, but as he wipes away the remainder of tears on your face you can’t help but melt into his touch. “I’ll protect you,” he says, and somehow the way he’s telling you such a cheesy line so seriously unexpectedly makes you laugh. “Why?” he now whines, and as you glance at his face you can see the offended expression on it and it just makes you giggle some more. Then you shake your head, giving him a weak smile and you say,

“Nothing… I just love you.”

“Well, if it made you smile that’s all that counts, right?”

“Yeah…” you mumble, and as you see him still sulking over your reaction you lift your hand to ruffle your fingers through his hair, before bumping your head against his chest. “Thanks… for being there for me. I mean it.”

“Of course,” Mingi answers, welcoming you back into his arms, as he lets you simply rest in his embrace, for however long you need to.

#ateez fluff #ateez comfort #ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #ateez angst #mingi x reader #mingi fluff #mingi x gn reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez drabbles #mingi imagines #mingi drabbles #comfort #angst

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luvryeo · 9 months

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you've got a hold on me — kang yeosang

0.1K MILESTONE EVENT ⟢ CLOSED gn!reader , afab!reader , smut, fluff , cw : making out, fingering , wc : 0.6K , @nebulousbrainsoup bro i'm dying afjakfjs i think we'll be needing more of this in the future, hope you enjoy !!! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

to have yeosang’s arms wrapped around you is something that must be straight out of paradise. with his broad shoulders and practically bulging muscles, you always feel so safe and warm… and oh so horny. his strength, the sight of his muscles, and more than anything, the feeling of them turns you on so goddamn much.

you know that you’re just innocently cuddling, but you’ve been horny all day, even before he came over. so to have his bicep tucked under your head and his other arm draped over your waist is making the pressure between your legs practically unbearable.

you turn around in his arms to face him. he sends you a small, sweet smile the moment your gaze meets his.

“sangie?” there’s already the hint of a whine in your voice. he hums in response, prompting you to continue. the deepness of his voice does nothing to help you. “yknow, i feel so weak and turned on at the same time when i’m in your arms.” that certainly shocks him for a moment, the softness of your voice would be such a stark contrast to your words if he couldn’t hear the underlying desperation in it. nonetheless, it only takes a few moments for a light blush to dust his cheeks.

even so, he’s quick to regain his composure.

“is that right, baby?” he asks, not quite teasing. you nod quickly in response.

“i love your arms,” you admit. the smile he gives you is so loving, and just a little bit bashful.

“i know,” he says, quickly closing the small distance between your faces to press his lips to yours. your eyes automatically drift closed at the welcome contact, lips tumbling against each other and your hands tugging at the cotton fabric of his black muscle tee. he parts from you for just a moment to slip his arm out from under your head and shift your position so you’re laying with your back against the bed and him hovering over you. without a word, he deepens the kiss, and soon your tongues are entangled, exploring.

when you part, panting, he presses his forehead to yours. i love you, it means, and you know it all too well.

“gonna take care of you now,” he whispers, and you smile at him.

“thank you, sangie,” your voice is quiet to match his. but before he can move down to do pull of your sweats and panties, your fingers hook on the hem of his tank top, eyes begging to let you take it off of him. he gives you a small nod as permission, and you're quick to pull it up as far as you can before he has to sit up to take it all the way off. almost in a trance, you bring your hands from his bare shoulders all the way down his arms, nearly groaning out at the feeling of his muscles flexing under your touch. that, plus the sight of his bare chest and lightly defined abs have you practically drooling.

he lets you touch him like that until you’re too goddamn horny to keep him from touching you anymore. when your hands drop from his body, he’s quick to move down, pulling down your clothes to reveal your leaking pussy. he gives himself an almost cocky smile; he’s always so proud of how wet he can make you without even really trying. with that, his fingers are in your cunt and his other hand grips your hip to keep you still in the way that he knows you love, all of it to show you the definition of his muscles and the veins in his forearms that you find so sexy.

easy to say that the sight of it alone had you ready to cum all over his fingers, over and over again.

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jnginlov · 9 months

Text

line a

when did you start to have feelings for the cute stranger on your morning commute and how are you going to be able to tell him?

⇀ pairing yunho x reader

⇀ genre fluff, angst, strangers 2 lovers

⇀ style one-shot

⇀ word count 4k

⇀ warnings food, yunho cries

⇀ reactions from the gc “Okay but why do I have tears in my eyes” “I feel all warm and toasty inside” “I had a lovely time”

note sorry if you hate brown sugar oatmilk lattes, cinnamon sugar bagels, pastries in general, or sushi

getting a new position in your company meant better pay, a new office, and different work hours. you were happy for the shift in your routine, feeling like you were starting to become a part of some machine, but you were honestly happier for the shift in your commute time.

your old hours always had you riding the train at the busiest times, shoved into a car with a collection of other desk workers like a bunch of sardines, and over the years you’d grown used to not being able to find a seat or even have any form of personal space. you’d always accepted it as a necessary evil that just accompanied getting to work at a prestigious corporation in the city but now, climbing into a train car that was next to empty, you were regretting ever settling for less.

you’d quickly grown into a routine with these new hours, grabbing an iced brown sugar oatmilk latte from the cafe on the corner of the station entrance before your train, spending the 30-ish minute ride sipping and reading a few pages from the book you’d purchased most recently, and then using the extra time before work started to grab a cinnamon sugar bagel from the bakery a block away from the company, unless the pastry of the day was particularly appealing in which case you’d grab two of those.

of the people who took the train at the same time as you, there were always a few regulars mixed in with the random passengers. the old lady, you’d lovingly nicknamed mrs. blue, was an every day passenger. she’d already be on the train when you would board, sat in the farthest corner of the car, with a collection of different knit items on her lap, some incomplete and often actively being worked on during the ride. she wore a different blue shirt every day, and although you were months into this new routine she hadn’t repeated any yet. she would get off exactly three stops before you, taking her time to gather her knits as the doors opened and although you worried that one day the doors would close before she made it onto the platform she hadn’t missed her stop yet.

probably the most recent regular you noticed was someone you’d called the flash to your roommate and the name just stuck. he would board one stop after yours, always arriving at the platform at the same time as the train. he’d take about a minute to look at all the free seats on the train but after what seemed like a heavy debate with himself, one where he would gesture subtly with his hands and mutter quietly under his breath, he would take the same seat he’d taken yesterday, and the day before, and every day as long as you’d been riding this line. he would get off a stop before your own and just as with his arrival, his form would disappear from the platform in tandem with the train’s departure.

of course the most interesting of all the passengers, and the first regular you’d noticed, was a man that both boarded and exited the train at the same stops as you. he was tall, you’d estimate around six feet, and although he’d seemed intimidating as you’d stood on the departure platform for the first time since your change in work hours, he sent you a smile that simply melted away all of your worries when he’d caught your eyes flickering toward him cautiously.

he was always waiting at the platform before you, no matter how early you were to the station, and he always wore one wireless earbud. if it was in the right ear he was obviously on a call, talking and laughing with someone he’d called mingi. if it was in the left ear he was silent and you assumed he was just listening to something, likely music or an audiobook. however, no matter which ear was occupied he would always greet you with a warm smile and a slight nod when you would saddle up next to him on the platform.

you’d tried to parse his reasons for taking the train so often and so regularly but it was next to impossible to be sure when he was always dressed so casually and never carried the same items. some days he’d be weighed down by a backpack that looked like it was holding several concrete bricks while other days he’d have nothing but his phone in his hand. every few days he’d have a different bag of takeout food, though the only repeat container was from a thai place you’d googled one day after noticing him carrying a bag with the same logo for the fourth time.

when you both would leave the train after arriving at your stop, you would cross paths, each of you having exited the door of the car opposite to the direction you would head to leave the platform. at first he would just give you another smile and nod but about a month into this routine he’d escalated to telling you to “have a good day” to which you’d return a quick “you too”.

the train on the way home from work held a different set of regulars, a slightly younger and more rowdy collection, but after a couple months into this new pattern you would find your mind wandering away from the words on the page in front of you to the man from your morning ride.

he was certainly attractive, a sharp jaw that complimented sculpted cheeks, a nose that perfectly defined his side profile, and eyes that would crinkle up whenever he would laugh or smile. speaking of his laugh, you’d noticed he had a habit of tilting his head back when he would find something particularly amusing, a tendency that had caused him to bump his head against the wall of the train car behind him several times. each time this accident had occurred, you would dip your own head, lips pressed together in an attempt to suppress the enamored giggles that would bubble into your throat. after you managed to calm yourself, you’d take a peek in the man’s direction to find a light blush dusted over the apples of his cheeks and along the tops of his ears, eyes flicking toward you before his ears would transition to an even darker shade of red and he would hide his own shy giggles behind his hand, his gaze shifting to the train floor.

your routine became familiar after a few months, comfortable even. it gave you a sense of security, knowing that he’ll always be there.

of course that means that the one day you arrive at the station and he’s not stood in his usual spot on the platform you can almost feel the universe poking a hole through your bubble. it lets in a little bit of something that anyone else might recognize as disappointment, but to you it feels heavier. it’s painted with a hint of worry, and you itch to check the time on your phone every few seconds just to triple and quadruple check that you’re not running behind. you try to ignore the way his absence has thrown you off but as you take a sip of your latte it almost feels like even your drink tastes different.

you board the train when it arrives as you would every other time but even mrs. blue seems to notice the lack of your usual companion, pausing a moment in the middle of a stitch with yarn tangled between her fingers, before she returns to her own routine. similarly, the flash takes twice as long to choose his usual seat, eyes lingering on where the man would usually have been sitting before he moves about his day as normal.

your book seems even less interesting today, the story dragging on as the author tries to build suspense that you just can’t seem to bring yourself to focus on. instead, you wonder if he’s okay, you hope he is, dwelling on all of the possible reasons he could have missed the train, because that’s what you assume he did. he must have missed it, his alarm this morning not waking him or construction making him change his usual path to the station. of all the possibilities for his absence, you in no way consider the reality that approaches as you hop off at your usual stop.

he makes his way through the door he would normally exit, boarding the car instead, with a woman following close on his heels. their hands are connected, fingers intertwined, as he pulls her toward his usual seat on the train and he wears the same light blush as when he’d hit his head on the wall. he looks happy and you want to breathe a sigh of relief that he’s okay, but your body refuses to relax at the sight, your stomach turning and heart clenching as you see her beam up at him.

neither of them take any notice of you, too enraptured in the little bubble surrounding them as you make your way toward the rest of your day. something in the back of your mind tells you that you’re not going to have a very good one.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

your day isn’t too extraordinary, the usual tasks and duties taking up your work time, but every so often your mind will drift, as it usually does, to your train companion. unfortunately, instead of the standard admirations of the way he’d worn his hair that day or the opinions on the conversation that you’d parsed from hearing just his half of the phone call, your thoughts seem to be stuck on the way her hand had been firmly captured in his own and the way his eyes had lit up when the woman on his arm had laughed.

as the weeks go on, and his appearances on the train become more infrequent and completely changed by the girl that seems to be his world, you start to consider that this may be your new normal. maybe a regular has shifted into the crowd.

you feel something inside yourself shift in response to this new situation and you try not to harp on it. however, how are you supposed to reconcile something that you weren’t even aware had been happening. when had the boy stood on the platform turned into a crush?

it felt childish to admit, falling for a relative stranger, but it felt even more foolish to realize that she must have been his reason for all those months. that girl was why he took the train, why he was always punctual and bright. maybe you’d purposely ignored the signs, the occasional bouquet and the mention of a jiyoung when on a call, or maybe you’d been too caught up in your own interest, in your own feelings, to realize that he was only a stranger. you didn’t even know his name.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you’re not even sure how long it had been since you’d seen him on the platform as you approached, your latte in your hand and steps stuttering as you realized that he was there. he looked nice today, more dressed up than you think you'd ever seen him. black tie neat and blazer crisp as he shifted from foot to foot almost nervously. it was hard not to notice the bouquet in his arms, a collection of several different pink flowers wrapped neatly in brown paper, and the container of food from that thai place. you could reason to guess that it was likely her favorite, the portions he’d carried had always been suspiciously small for someone of his stature but you’d never seen a need to analyze that before.

aside from the new surprise that just is seeing him on this platform and taking this train, you’re shocked to find that you can’t see an earbud in his left ear but he also doesn’t appear to be in conversation with anyone. he’s not on the phone, he’s not even reaching into his pocket for his headphones, he’s staring straight ahead at the empty tracks, almost willing the train to arrive faster.

as you approach your usual spot on the platform his eyes flick over to you, sensing movement in his peripheral. you try not to make eye contact, pulling your phone out of your pocket to appear busy.

“hi.”

of all the greetings you’ve ever shared, verbal communication was new. you weren’t anticipating any sort of recognition, as you’d stood further away from him purposely, partly in an effort to avoid any sort of interaction with him.

you didn’t respond aloud, your gaze briefly locking with his as you nod slightly before looking back to the screen of your phone.

he doesn’t seem deterred by your lack of proper response, though, as he takes a step in your direction.

“do you think this is too cheesy?”

his voice is much higher than you’ve heard it previously, when he’s talking with mingi or sending you off to have a good day, and you can hear a nervous shake in the tone.

you venture to glance back up at him, the bouquet in his hands now turned out to you so that you can see the writing on the wrapping paper.

will you be my girlfriend?

the lump that forms in your throat is involuntary and you try to swallow it away as you blink at him.

“it’s cute,” you manage after a moment, trying to avoid further discussion as you quickly return to your phone. maybe you could fish out your own headphones from the depths of your bag.

“i got her favorite too,” he explains with a lift of the takeout container, completely oblivious to the hint that you aren’t in the mood to converse. “i never really liked thai but i don’t mind.”

you bite your tongue to keep from saying anything, urging your brain to ignore the curiosity of what he would prefer instead.

you’re sure that you’ve never been more thankful for the punctuality of the train as it comes quickly into view in the next moment, screeching to a stop in front of you both and cutting off the conversation.

you notice that he makes his way to his usual spot, mrs. blue peeking at him from the corner of her eye before she returns to her latest project.

instead of your usual place, one that wasn’t directly across from him but still too close for whatever your heart was doing right now, you decide to take a different spot, one where you can convincingly be enraptured in the pages of your book while your mind takes in none of the words, too focused on the latest development with your train companion.

you try to think about anything other than the boy with the bouquet but it feels like the length of the ride that you’ve taken for months has suddenly doubled. you’re not sure the doors have ever stayed open this long at each stop, yet each platform is more unusually barren than the last, leaving the car with just the usuals occupying their spots.

at your stop, only you and him are left and you realize that in sitting further away from him you’d managed to sit closer to the door that he would normally exit, both of you almost colliding as you try to fit through the doorway and step out onto the platform.

“have a good day,” he says, and it’s not only different because it’s the first time you’d heard the phrase from him in so long but because his voice is still high and still shaky.

you take a shallow breath, trying to calm the prickling sensation that washes over your skin, and you reply, “good luck.”

you don’t stay to see his reaction, dipping your head and feet leading you in your usual direction. you don’t even realize you were practically jogging until you make it to the bakery almost 10 minutes before you normally would.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

half of your day is spent wondering how it all went for him, your regular duties not nearly as interesting as the turmoil in your heart.

your brain tells you that she obviously said yes, simply based on the brief moments you’d seen of them together, and your heart reasons that you want her to say yes, the smile that she’d put on his face when they were together absolutely mesmerizing, but somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you wish for her to say no. you try to suppress the thought, reasoning that it wouldn’t mean you suddenly had a chance, but the jealousy only continued to fester until you realize that you’d been typing out your internal argument instead of the report you were tasked to start.

you tussle with your feelings for the rest of the day, even as you pack up and make your way to the station in order to head back home for the night. you’re almost too caught up in your head to notice a familiar bouquet in the hands of an even more familiar stranger sat on the bench just off the platform.

you pause when you first notice him, his gaze set firmly on the slightly wilted flowers, eyebrows furrowed in what appears to be a mix of thought and anger, and you try to decide what to do. you could simply walk past and pretend that you hadn’t noticed him, but as you consider that a guilt starts to replace the jealous feeling that had started to manifest earlier in the day. a voice in the back of your mind tells you that you’re responsible, you’d secretly wished for his rejection hadn’t you, but you quiet that voice as you take a deep breath and approach him.

“hi,” you chirp once you’re at the end of the bench and you realize that you don’t know what else to say. you didn’t have any kind of plan.

he looks up at you, eyes wide and a little pathetic to complement the subtle downturn of his lips. you try not to react when he notices it’s you and his expression lifts slightly before dropping back down.

“hi,” he practically whispers, the word heavy and soft as it leaves his lips.

“this seat taken?” you resist the urge to drop your face into your palm as your mouth moves before you can stop it but if he finds the phrase at all awkward he doesn’t comment, only gesturing to the empty space with his hand as a sort of invitation.

you move onto the bench, angling your body to face him and you can’t tell if you imagine him shift to match you or if he’d always been sat on an angle as his gaze moves back to the flowers.

“she said no,” he supplies with a shake of the bouquet and a few petals fall out, one landing in his lap while the rest float to the ground.

you bite your lip as your hand reaches out reflexively but you quickly pull it back in before you can pick the petal from his thigh.

“did she say why?” you ignore the thought that you may be prying, telling yourself that he’d offered the information first.

he lets out a single humorless chuckle as his eyes close. when he opens them he looks up at you once more, gaze and voice noticeably watery as he replies, “she never wanted something serious. she thought it was just always going to be casual.”

a tear makes its way past his waterline and he’s quick to wipe it away with the back of his hand before he drops his gaze to his lap, noticing the petal there and brushing it off.

you try to think of anything else to do aside from just sitting here and watching him cry when you realize that he no longer has the bag of takeout and are reminded of the question you wanted to ask him earlier in the day.

“what’s your favorite?” you ask, cringing slightly for not being clear when he looks up at you with a confused expression.

“uh, food,” you elaborate and he tilts his head slightly as though he’s never heard the question before.

he takes a moment to think, eyes fluttering around the both of you, before he says, “i guess japanese.”

you nod slowly, pursing your lips as it’s now your turn to think.

“great,” you say after a moment, rising from the bench after you check the time, “because i love sushi.”

he quirks his head at you again, this time his face scrunches up in confusion, as he watches you stand and take the bouquet from his hands. he doesn’t bother to try getting it back as you walk toward the edge of the platform, the train coming into view only a moment later.

when you notice that he hasn’t followed you, you look back at him over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna miss your train,” you call to him and he hesitantly follows as you board.

the car is empty today and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief as you anticipate your plan.

only a few seconds after you’ve taken your seat, your train companion steps into the car, still observing you with confusion, although you see a hint of amusement start to take over his features as you gesture to his usual seat.

he says nothing as he sits down, eyes fixed on you to the point that he almost misses his chair, sliding down into the seat with a soft thump.

“if you keep staring at me you’re going to make this immensely harder for me,” you say loud enough for him to hear as you look down at the bouquet in your hands. you take the edge of the brown wrapping paper into your hand, the material considerably more wrinkled than when you’d seen it earlier that day, and start to tear. luckily the writing is on the outer layer and so you can tear it off without causing the arrangement to change.

you can’t see his face but you can imagine the tilt of his head as you work to remove the phrase from the flowers, crumbling up the paper and tossing it into your bag.

as the train comes to the first stop you peek onto the platform and silently thank the universe for urging those taking the train from this station to climb into the other cars, leaving only you and your stranger sat in the plastic seats of the familiar car.

before the train can start to move again you stand, clearing your throat, and you notice him shift slightly as though preparing to get up before you take a few steps and close the distance between you.

you let out a breath as you take the seat next to him, eyes intently connected with his own, before holding the bouquet in front of him.

“hi, i’m y/n and i’ve seen you on the train before,” you start, his eyes eager and round as though trying to convey that he’s listening. “i think you’re really cute and i’d appreciate the chance to take you to din-“ you cut yourself off as you pull out your phone to check the time and you swear the corners of his lips pull up in amusement. “midnight snack,” you conclude, putting your phone away as you turn back to him.

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, eyes just looking into yours as his lips slowly part to reveal a toothy smile.

“preferably japanese,” you add to break the silence, the words barely audible.

without breaking eye contact he takes the bouquet from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own and causing a heat to climb the back of your neck.

“hi,” he starts, placing the bouquet onto the seat on the other side of him, “i’m yunho and i’ve seen you on the train before. i think you’re very cute and i’d be happy to get a midnight snack with you.”

you try to keep the blush from spreading to your cheeks but you give up as you notice yunho’s own ears and face growing pink.

“i just have one condition,” he adds and you cock your head in confusion.

“the snack has to be japanese.”

↼ ateez masterlist

note idk why but i just apparently feel the need to romanticize public transit AGAIN

let me know what you thought?

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starrysvn · 4 months

Text

puppy love | kang yeosang

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader

genre: headcanon; e2l (i TRIED); co-workers au, volunteering at an animal shelter; fluff; angst if you really, really squint, crack (i’m nOT funny)

word count: 3.1k

rating: pg-13

warnings: none; one smooch, mayhaps a couple swear words (lowercase intended)

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happy belated christmas from your secret santa, @armysantiny !! i really hope you’ll enjoy this and i sincerely hoped you spent warm holidays surrounded by people you loved! <3 i’ve tried my very best with the e2l but mAN writing it is so much less fun than reading it. big, huge, thanks to @hwaightme for giving me wonderful ideas to use and delulus to ponder so i could write this down. ilysm <333

kang yeosang is one infuriating individual. for one, there is no way anyone can be so praised and well-liked by literally everyone. not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how his small smiles and quiet attitude could bewitch every last person he talked to. not when he would not bother to say hi in passing to you specifically, or resolve to small nods and monosyllables when talking. to you.

it seems that you are the problem.

you and him work volunteer shifts at the same shelter. only, he deals with cats while you deal with dogs so it wasn’t like you’d see each other that often, but it was often enough to know he doesn’t like you.

not enough to say hi, engage in any sort of coversation or, least of all, help out if needed.

until christmas.

the shelter was decked out, you spent a whole afternoon helping out with decorations, along with yunho and yena, two other volunteers.

and yeosang.

the man almost laughed his ass off watching you balance on a ladder in the most uncoordinated way possible to avoid falling. arms flailing around and everything.

he just stood there, an ornament in his hands, with his stupidly cute smile and watched.

you sigh, scratching behind the ear of the latest rescue dog that was brought in. you like baxter, he is chill and his black, shiny fur does not show signs of him having had to live out in the streets all on his own for weeks anymore. you like him best because it looks like he is listening when you ramble on, in disbelief of the rudeness showcased, about yeosang.

just then, a call of your name sounds in the air, the voice coming from the front desk of the shelter.

“see you later,” you leave behind baxter’s toy, leaving him with one last pat on the head, and make your way to the front where hongjoong had called for you.

you smile upon entering the reception area as it had been a joint decorating effort between you, yunho and yena. the result was looking very much like an elementary school christmas project, but you enjoy the general vibe. the senior rescuer currently behind the counter, looking rather preoccupied with a few papers, however, had just shook his head dejectedly upon seeing the final result.

“i’m sorry to be doing this, but could you take the christmas day shift?” he looks apologetic as he asks, rushing to explain. “it’d only be a half day, I promise that by one you can leave, we’ve got the staff taking care of the other shifts and the morning one’s the only one left uncovered-”

“no worries,” you interrupt his rambling. “i’ll be there.”

hongjoong smiles, looking relieved only for a second, before his face betrays further worrying.

“what is it?”

“nothing, i,” he sighs, shoulders sagging upon seeing the inquisitive look on your face. “yeosang will be working the same shift.”

defeat. dejection. betrayed trust. you groan dramatically, barely hearing hongjoong say that you’d already agreed and it would not be that bad.

surely it’d make for an interesting christmas.

when you arrive on christmas morning, the night shift staff gives you a tired nod and you offer him a smile in return, quickly wishing him happy holidays.

you waste no time in doing the rounds, giving all the cute doggos their breakfast.

while going over the duty checklist left from the night shift staff you hear the bell jingle in the front and roll your eyes.

when you finally decide to go up front it takes a couple of minutes before yeosang finally comes into view.

decked out in his funniest ugly sweater it reads “here comes santa paws” and has a cat wearing a christmas hat on it and with his long hair tucked behind his ears, he’s coming up to you with an awkward air about him.

you squint your eyes in suspicion.

“merry christmas,”

you’re floored, shocked, gaping like a fish looking up at your co-worker who for the first time ever has spoken to you first.

“cookie?” he produces a tupperware from behind his back, carefully removing the lid to reveal the most crooked, ill-decorated christmas cookies you’ve ever seen. some look slightly burned. a gingerbread man has three eyes.

you’re still gaping, not in the slightest understanding how it's possible that he’s spoken to you first, and also not noticing how ever so slowly a blush starts to creep up on his cheeks.

maybe you’re hallucinating, but it snaps you out of your trance.

you quickly reach for the gingerbread man with three eyes.

“thanks,” you mumble, giving him a small smile. “merry christmas.”

yeosang nods, closing the tupperware and disappearing without a word.

so you’re left there, cookie in hand, not knowing what to do with this.

you stay put, eating your cookie, until you hear a loud bang.

you rush to the source of it, finding a very flustered yeosang surrounded by cat litter. at least it’s clean.

you hold in your laughter, seeing him stand there, look around and try to come up with a plan.

“a little help?” you pretend to wipe away tears, facing his deadpan expression.

“you would’ve let me fall from a ladder,”

“you would’ve survived,”

you scoff, turning around to grab the broom and toss it his way. Yeosang catches it, just barely.

“really?”

“you scared my dogs.”

with that, you leave him to his mess, going to comfort and play a little bit with the shaken up puppies.

it’s not until a little later that you show up at the front desk again, noticing yeosang is already sitting there, typing away on the computer.

he’s also got the phone pressed to his ear, helping out someone on the line with cat duties, speaking with his honey voice and a small smile on his face.

it’s almost mesmerizing seeing him wear an expression that’s not his usual blank stare he holds up around you.

“if you’re done staring, we’ve got hongjoong’s checklist to go through,”

just like that, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, heat pervading your face.

“sure,” you shrug, going over to him to take a look at it, trying not to stare at his smug pout.

deep down, very deep down, you think about kissing it away.

if he weren’t so unbearable. but he is. so.

the checklist read “lobby Ikea chairs”

you both looked at each other, confused, until you noticed the boxes hidden behind the counter.

there was a post-it on it that read: “good luck! -HJ”

simply infuriating. you’d lost count of all the times you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes or drop everything and go back to your dogs.

there was no trace of the cold, odd yeosang you were used to.

he’d casually sat down on the spot where you were assembling the Ikea chairs, picked up the instruction manual and waited for you to hand him the screwdriver. bewildered, you had.

that was about two hours ago, before trying to follow instructions had gone to your heads, when it was only extremely awkward and quiet while he read the manual and you tried your best to sneak glances at him. to figure out what possibly could have been going through his head, of course.

now you were busy trying to one up each other in an undeclared war of who is the best handyman, clearly having lost the main aim: building the damned chairs.

“you were supposed to put in the screw first and then the little wooden thingy.”

“does it matter?”

“does your chair look structurally sound?”

“listen, if we start over-” pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes closed with a sigh, you stop him before he could finish his sentence.

“like hell we are, it took us two hours just to get to this.”

“exactly,” his deadpan tone leaves you no choice but to sigh.

“fine,” you give in.

you were going to kill hongjoong.

because it took you only two hours to realize all it took for yeosang to distract you were his hands working on assembling furniture, his voice asking you to pass him stuff and his silence.

if you hated it before, now you appreciated the quiet moments where all you could hear was the faint music coming from the radio and the occasional bark or meow that prompted one of you to stand up and go check on your animals.

of course it was because you didn’t have to hear his disdainful reprimanding, not at all because it gave you the chance to throw glances at him and how a few strands of hair escaped the clips pinning it back and framing his face very nicely. no, not at all. you still couldn’t stand him. mhmh.

once you finally finish building the chairs, he helps you set them up in exchange for the older ones, now piled up in the storage room.

it’s almost second nature for you to hold up your fist for him to bump.

it’s just a thing you do all the time with your friends but now you’re standing there awkwardly, fist mid air, yeosang staring at you very lost, eyes going back and forth from your face to your hand and of course now he’s not going to want to see your face ever again and you feel embarrassment slowly and steadily creeping in the more you stand there until

he fist-bumps back

a little puzzled, seemingly asking if he’s done the right thing with one look, before dropping his hand and clearing his voice

you do the same

“gotta go see the dogs,”

“yeah, no, me too… i mean, the cats, yeah, so-”

he turns around and speeds away.

you follow him.

“so how’re the cats?”

yeosang jumps on his spot, almost dropping the little mouse toy he was about to throw for a kitty to catch.

“sleeping, mostly,” he shrugs. “how’re the dogs?”

you motion for him to follow and, surprisingly, he does.

immediately, he greets the ones that are up or go up to him with a smile on his face that you’ve never seen.

it shines brighter than the sun and you find yourself smiling as well, seeing him crouch down and pat dogs left and right.

then you get a grip, not for long

it leaves you pleasantly surprised how he follows while you introduce him to every dog, how he listens while you explain why they’re there, their stories, their backgrounds

but then, while you try to get some of the dogs to play with you so he could finish the round of greetings, he reaches the puppies’ enclosure and enters it to sit among them

and while he tries to play catch with a couple, one makes his way into his arms

and when he looks down at the pup, he’s wearing the most adoring expression

like a kid seeing snow for the first time

it’s wondrous and starry and happy

and you’re staring as he softly pats the puppy’s head and coos at it

“what’s his name?”

you almost don’t answer, too focused on the scene unfolding and having trouble locating the information he’s asked for in your brain

“i don’t think he has one,” you mumble, patting baxter’s head

“sleepy,” he looks down at the puppy. “cause he’s asleep while everyone wants to play, you know?”

you just nod with a smile, or at least you hope it is because what the fuck

why are you losing your mind over yeosang cradling a sleeping puppy?

why is your brain recognizing just now that your stomach’s doing cartwheels? why do you want to look away but also keep staring?

“what’s this?” you think he’s speaking to himself, but you still catch the words leaving his mouth as he enquires the toy another puppy has just brought him

then yeosang looks up at you, eyes wide as saucers, and your heart drops for being caught staring

he doesn’t say a thing, but looks down prompting you to do the same

it’s the mistletoe chew toy

yunho’s brilliant idea of getting the dogs christmas themed toys

yeosang looks away throwing it

“yunho,” you start, catching your coworker’s attention. “yunho’s idea, to get them those.”

you offer him a pained smile as he nods, scratching his head.

“seonghwa too, for the cats…”

“ah, really?”

“yeah…”

you want to bash your head into the wall

but the phone saves you, so you dash to the front, escaping the burning flames of awkwardness

it turns out to be a family wanting to adopt as a christmas present for their kids

so you say that yes, you’re open and yes they can come in whenever

when they do, yeosang has re-emerged and stands beside you, silent like always

this time around, though, you fear he’ll hear your heart beating out of your chest at the proximity

why’s he so close?

you almost jump to greet the happy family of four when they walk in to the sound of let it snow coming from the radio

“we were afraid it wasn’t going to stop!” the dad says, brushing off some snow from his hat

turns out they’d like to adopt a dog

it surprises you that yeosang follows when you lead the family in but you try to pay him no mind

the kids seem to be enamored with every dog they see, their parents giving them free reign

they’re still very polite and don’t cause much ruckus or yell too loud, which you’re grateful for

“could you tell us more about him?”

you’re about to turn to answer the question, if it weren’t that yeosang’s already at it

he’s introducing the kids to baxter

“he’s been here for a while, he’s very fond of our y/n and his favorite snack is carrots. he doesn’t like loud noises all that much. his past owners left him here because they could no longer take care of him, but he’s looking to find a new home,” he speaks as if he’s always been taking care of him, like he hadn’t just learned all that stuff half an hour ago

and he has his smile on, the one who could charm and warm up even the coldest of hearts

except one detail

you didn’t notice the little girl facing the puppies enclosure

until you hear her go “that one’s sleeping!”

but you can’t tear your eyes away from yeosang and his can’t help but hear his soft giggle as he says “his name’s sleepy”

yeah you want to punch a wall just about now

though you have to snap out of it quick

because you’re now letting this nice family adopt baxter and can’t fuck up the procedure or hongjoong will have your head

“how’d you know?” you ask, a little melancholic but over the moon to finally see your baxter go to a family worthy of him, as you both watch the car pull out of the parking lot.

“know what?” when yeosang turns to look at you, it’s with a shadow of a smile and curious eyes, an expression you’ve rarely ever seen directed your way

you swallow hard before speaking next

“that baxter’s fond of me”

his eyes light up in recognition

yeosang swore no soul shall ever know of this

but now he feels his resolution coming apart under your waiting eyes

because truth is, he’s noticed

he notices everything about you

from how you walk in dragging your feet when you have an early morning shift, relying on your cup of coffee, to how you laugh loudly at yunho’s jokes, always get your favorite snack from the vending machines at just about the same time he goes to get his melon pan he does wait for you to be done before going up to the machines himself

and how deeply you care for the dogs and how you seem to have a soft spot for baxter

maybe he’s even heard you once or twice rambling on and on to him about how you don’t get why he doesn’t like you

truth is, he sees you, and he likes you

so much

too much

he’s afraid of doing the wrong thing, say the wrong thing and make you hate him

but apparently his plan had backfired immensely

that’s why he insisted hongjoong gave him and not seonghwa the christmas shift

he even baked stupid cookies to give you

“ah, well…” yeosang has no idea how to get out of this one. “you just seemed to like him a lot from the way you spoke about him”

you hum, not really convinced

yeosang notices though, just as he notices the car of the afternoon staff pull in under the snowfall to free you of your volunteering duties

it’s not long before the shift’s over and he’s not going to see you until after the holidays

so, as you part ways to say goodbye to the pets and grab your coats, he musters up some courage

under the snowfall, he calls your name

when you turn around his dark hair is lightly dusted with snowflakes, only making him look more ethereal, and his eyes are determined

you don’t know what’s up with you today and why suddenly he’s making you feel like a teenager dealing with their first crush under his gaze

“yes?”

he comes closer, much more than he’s ever been, so close that you’re frozen on the spot

“just wanted to let you know that you can redeem your mistletoe kiss whenever you want to”

there’s a smugness in his voice, in his pouty smirk and a sense of accomplishment shining clear in his honey eyes

have they always been this mesmerizing?

his words and his warmth leave you breathless for just a beat too long, until your eyes fall on his lips

when you look back into his eyes, his are already looking at you, waiting

“alright,” you mutter lowly, pecking his lips once, testing the waters

he places another peck on your lips and, before you know, you’re kissing him

it feels exhilarating, and soft, so soft, just like his lips. just like the hand that’s come up to cup your cheek, bringing you closer, deepening the kiss.

when you come up for air you giggle, yeosang following suit

“may i also interest you in a coffee?” he asks, hand still on your cheek, gently brushing away snowflakes before they melt. you smile.

“i thought you hated me,” it almost sounds like a question and your brow furrows when he clicks his tongue.

“have you ever heard about the concept of quiet, introverted people who feel highly intimidated by awesome, funny, pretty people?”

you laugh, finally presented with the answer to the question that most replayed in your head

“take me on a date, hilarious, quiet, handsome guy”

he blushes and you know he’ll blame it on the cold, but only brushes his nose against yours

and to think you thought he couldn’t stand you mere hours ago

now he’s here, making your heart melt like snow upon touching his perfect skin

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