cloudyyy1

[cloudyyy1]

How it feels getting back into fanfiction and all my old interests again after going off them for a few months

[cloudyyy1]

clean shaven ⊹˚. ♡ (Leon becomes a feminist ( ◡̀_◡́)ᕤ)

“Please Leon, pretty please, with whipped cream and cherries on top?” You smooch his cheek, his palm promptly covers your face, you yelp when smushes your face away. “No.” He grumbles, turning over onto his side to cuddle your teddy bear instead, it has soft brown fur, and a pink bow with delicate lace. He came over to nap, get kisses and back rubs, maybe get his dick wet if you were in a good mood, whatever. “Don’t be such a boy.” You exasperated, flopping on top of him, he groans when he feels the brunt of your weight crash down on him. “Men don’t wax.” He deadpans, opening one eye to squint at you. You go back to schmoozing him, cupping olive skin between your palms, cupping his cheeks, giving him smooch after smooch, “Please Leon? Pretty, pretty, pretty please?” You plead between kisses. He rolls his eyes, pulling you in for one more, “Fine.” He says incredibly begrudging, your eyes practically light up like stars.

Leon always though that bagging a hot girlfriend would mean living it up like hugh heffner or something. He likes all your cutesy stuff, but you’re more aggressive then he thought, biting his biceps, tying his short strands up with bows, testing all your skin care on him, he’ll let that last one slide, he hasn’t seen a clogged pore in months. He lays back against your floral print sheets with his arms up, his toned stomach slightly concave as you settle onto his lap. You wipe his underarm with a baby wipe, removing any dregs of his piney deodorant, “Is it gonna hurt?” He mumbles, watching apprehensively, “No, ‘s just like a uhh pinch.” You shrug, taking a wax strip from the box, warming it between your palms. “A pinch?” He raises his brow. “Yeah, you can’t wuss out now.” You say pulling apart the wax strip, pushing his arm up, laying the wax strip down, rubbing it so it’s firmly in place.

“Ewwww it’s sticky.”

“It’s wax Leon, it’s obviously gonna be sticky.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“You want a countdown?”

“I’m not a baby—OW!”

His voice cracks when you pull the wax strips off. It pulls his dirty blonde hair clean off, “What the fuck?! I thought I was getting a countdown!” He whines, you soothe his underarm with pressure, using a clean baby wipe to wipe away sticky residue “It hurts less when you don’t expect it.” You chirp, “You were very brave honey.” You say giving his side a pat, “Ready for the other arm?” You croon, he firmly shakes his head “Hell no!”

“You’re gonna be uneven though…”

“I don’t care!”

“You are such a baby, I do this every two weeks, y’know.”

He blinks at you dumbly, like his eyes are dry, you think they’re actually a little watery. “Huh?” is what you receive, “What? You thought i’m just naturally smooth all the time?” You ask raising a brow, “No but… everywhere..?” He asks, his eyes head south, “Duh.” is the eloquent response you give him, Leon shivers at the thought of a wax strip yanking his balls off, “Oh honey, cancel your appointment, that’s evil.” You giggle at his stoney expression, “I’m not kidding, we’re going full 70’s, the bush is in.” He states firmly, “Christ, I’ll shave you if being hairless is that important.” He raises his fingers like he’s making a boy-scout promise. “Wow.” You burst into giggles, “Really? You wouldn’t care if I was totally hairy?” You croon, you don’t believe a boy would ever go for that, but Leon shakes his head firmly, “Swear I wouldn’t, ‘s natural anyways, not a big deal, seriously.” You feel warm by how serious he is. You see so many girls complain about how jerky their boyfriends are about hair, but you can see how much Leon truly cares. “You’re funny.” You laugh, giving him a kiss on the cheek, Leon wasn’t joking, but he likes receiving kisses, he wiggles from underneath you, smiling cause he soaks up kisses like a flower does sunlight.

dividers by @uzmacchiato

[cloudyyy1]

you’re not supposed to be here 

pairing : hunter! yunho x witch! fem! reader

synopsis : A solitary witch wants nothing to do with the world—until an unexpected visitor begins showing up at her doorstep. 

genre : fluff

warnings : none

author’s note : just a short fluffy one shot bc im bored 

word count : 1.7k

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A boy is lying in your yarrow patch.

You don’t see him at first. Your basket is slung over your elbow, half full of dewdrop petals, and you’re still bleary-eyed from sleep. The morning fog is thick. The forest hums quietly in its usual way. But then something shifts — a shape where no shape should be.

A body.

You blink. Stepped closer. His cloak is moss-green, soaked through with rain. There’s a long gash across his forearm, and one cheek is streaked with blood and dirt. But his chest rises and falls, just barely.

Alive.

You sigh. Loudly.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you mutter.

His eyes flutter open. Soft brown, a little dazed. And then, to your surprise — a faint, lopsided smile.

“Nice to meet you too,” he murmurs.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

You bring him inside.

Not out of kindness — of course not. You don’t do kindness. Not anymore.

But it would be bad manners to let someone bleed out next to your chamomile. The dryads would complain.

He doesn’t speak as you clean the wound, doesn’t even flinch when you dab it with sting root tincture. He just watches you with that same faint smile, like he’s not afraid of you at all.

“You’ve got a steady hand,” he says, voice hoarse but sincere.

You grunt.

“I’m Yunho, by the way.”

You don’t answer. You don’t ask his story. You don’t want to know.

When he finally leaves the next morning, you pretend not to watch him go.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Three days later, he returns.

“I left my scarf,” he says, grinning sheepishly. “Might’ve blown off in the wind.”

The scarf in question is neatly folded on your garden bench. You hand it over with a frown.

“Strange place for the wind to put it.”

“Forest magic, maybe,” he says with a wink.

You cross your arms. “That pie in your bag isn’t enchanted too, is it?”

He holds it out like an offering. “It might be cursed.”

You roll your eyes.

But you let him inside anyway.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

He comes again. And again.

Never unannounced — he always knocks, polite as anything — but never truly invited either. He brings broken things to fix. Burnt bread to improve. Questions about your plants, your spells, the strange, shimmering boundary that separates your clearing from the rest of the world.

He smiles too easily. Laughs too loud. He’s the kind of person who hums when he works and names the crows in your trees.

You, on the other hand, prefer silence. Order. Predictability. It’s how you’ve kept yourself safe.

And yet—

You start making two cups of tea instead of one.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

“Why do you live all the way out here?” Yunho asks one afternoon. You’re both in the garden, your hands stained green with soil, a breeze fluttering through his curls.

You don’t look at him.

“It’s quiet.”

“But lonely.”

You pause.

“I chose lonely.”

He studies you for a moment. Then, quietly: “Was it because someone hurt you?”

Your hand stills over the pot.

You say nothing.

Yunho doesn’t push. He just reaches over, gently brushes a bit of leaf from your sleeve.

“Not everyone wants to hurt you,” he says.

You don’t answer. But you let his hand linger.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

The next morning, there’s a charm on your windowsill.

Lavender wrapped with silver thread. A sun-shaped pebble tied at the center.

You know the spell: warmth, comfort, safety. A soft kind of protection.

You hold it in your palm for a long time.

That night, you place it beneath your pillow.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Then, suddenly—he stops coming.

No knock. No clumsy pie. No terrible questions about moon phases or nettle tea.

The first day, you don’t care.

The second, you brew two cups of tea out of habit.

By the fifth, you’re pacing near the garden gate. Muttering under your breath. Listening for footsteps that never come.

The charm under your pillow is silent now. Still warm, but distant. Like its maker is out of reach.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

He arrives on the seventh day, just as the storm breaks.

You hear the knock and throw the door open before he can knock again.

Yunho stands there, drenched, hair plastered to his face, holding a crushed bouquet of moonlilies in trembling hands.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “The storm came faster than I thought. The forest changed. I kept trying to find the path back—”

You step forward and pull him in.

No words. No scolding.

Just the heat of his skin, the pounding of his heart, and the ache in your chest finally softening.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

He’s curled up by the fire now, wrapped in your blanket, fingers around the chipped mug you gave him. His hair is still damp, cheeks pink from the cold. You sit across from him, your tea untouched.

The silence between you is soft but heavy. Like breath held just a second too long.

“I really thought I’d never find the path again,” he says, voice low.

“You did.”

“I kept thinking… if this was it — if I never saw you again — you’d never know.” He pauses. “That I missed you. That I liked… being near you.”

You stare at him, heart rattling in your chest.

“You talk too much,” you murmur, but it’s not harsh this time. It’s barely even a whisper.

Yunho smiles at you across the flickering firelight. “And you barely talk at all.”

Silence stretches again. He sets his mug down.

Then: “Do you want me to stay?”

The question hovers, trembles in the space between you. You swallow hard.

“I don’t know how to want things,” you say. “Not openly. Not out loud.”

“That’s okay,” Yunho replies gently. “You can show me slowly. I’ll wait.”

He rose, slowly, and walk toward you, like he knows not to move too quickly. Like he knows you’re afraid.

When he kneels beside you, he took your hand in his. His fingers are still cold. Yours are always warm.

“You’re the first person I’ve let in,” you whisper. “And I don’t want you to leave.”

You don’t say please. You don’t need to.

He leans forward until his forehead touches yours.

“I’m here,” he breathes. “You don’t have to ask.”

And you close your eyes, holding onto him like you’ve finally stopped resisting gravity — like you’ve come home to something you never thought you deserved.

There’s no grand magic in the room. No dramatic spark.

Just two people learning how to stay.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

© lcvejjoong, 2025

[cloudyyy1]

Apologies: OT8

Apologies from part 1

->Starring: OT8!AteezxReader ->Genre: Angst with comfort, ->Cw: Someone says shitty...., more angst but, as the title says, with apologies

Masterlist | Ateez Masterlist

Seonghwa:

It had been days since you’d spoken. Really spoken.

The texts were dry, short, practical. The calls were missed. The weight of his last words — “You’re just too clingy sometimes” — hadn’t faded. They echoed in your head, over and over, every time you hovered over his contact name, too afraid to reach out again and be met with silence.

So when the knock came at your door well past midnight, you hesitated.

But you knew that knock. Soft. Hesitant. Him.

You opened the door to find Seonghwa standing there, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes downcast like he didn’t know if he was allowed to look at you.

“I shouldn’t be here this late,” he said quietly. “But I didn’t know where else to go.”

You said nothing. Just stepped aside, letting him in.

He didn’t sit. He hovered in the center of the room like he wasn’t sure he had the right to make himself comfortable.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he said finally. “About what I said. About how I made you feel.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Took you long enough.”

“I know,” he whispered.

Silence. He fidgeted with the hem of his sleeve, eyes flickering to you.

“I always thought that loving someone meant being strong, being steady, not depending on anyone too much. So when you wanted more, more time, more attention, more of me. I told myself you were being too much because I didn’t want to admit I wasn’t giving enough.”

He looked at you then, and his eyes were tired. But soft.

“You weren’t clingy,” he said. “You were present. You loved me so openly, and I made you feel like that was a flaw.”

Your throat tightened.

He stepped forward slowly. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to dial your love down to be enough for me.”

Your eyes burned, but you didn’t look away.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now,” he said, voice cracking. “But if you let me — I want to learn how to show up the way you do. Not just when it’s convenient. All the time.”

He finally sat, carefully, like he was afraid he might break the air between you.

“I don’t want to lose someone who gives love so fearlessly. Just because I was too afraid to give it back the same way.”

You didn’t speak right away.

But when you reached for his hand, he took it like it was the first thing grounding him in days.

Hongjoong:

It started with a message.

Not a call. Not a knock at your door. Just a text. Short. Almost too casual.

Hongjoong [2:03 PM]: hey… can we talk? maybe dinner tonight? my treat

You read it, then locked your phone.

He didn’t follow up with a second message. No explanation. No “I’m sorry.” Just a quiet request to meet, like that was enough to erase the weeks of feeling like you were always the one chasing after him.

Like his “is this about me not texting you back fast enough?” hadn’t gutted you the last time you saw him.

The silence that followed your heartbreak had been intentional. For once, you weren’t going to rush in with understanding or comfort. Not this time.

So you didn’t reply.

Not for ten minutes.

Not for an hour.

Not for four.

On the other side of the screen, Hongjoong’s knee was bouncing under the studio desk. His phone sat beside him, screen dark, taunting him.

Four hours.

He’d stared at your name. At the “Read 2:04 PM” notification.

He’d wanted to wait you out, tell himself you were just busy. Tell himself that you’d always forgiven him before, even when you shouldn’t have. That this time would be no different.

But something in his chest started to crack. Something cold.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew this time wasn’t like before.

He drove to your place without texting again. Parked outside. Waited. Then walked up and knocked on your door.

When you opened it, he saw the shift immediately. Your expression wasn’t angry. It wasn’t emotional. It was polite. Careful. Distant.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep it light. “You got my message, right?”

You nodded once. “I did.”

“And…?”

“I wasn’t sure if I should go.”

The words were calm, flat, the same tone he used to take when you’d ask if he was free and he’d say, “I’ll let you know.”

He swallowed. “I wanted to apologize.”

You didn’t step aside to let him in. You didn’t even shift your weight.

He fidgeted. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I said. About how I dismissed you. About how you used to reach out to me all the time and I’d just… reply when I felt like it. If I replied at all.”

Silence.

“I thought I was just busy. I thought you’d understand. But the truth is, I took you for granted. I thought you’d always be there.”

You didn’t react. Not even a flinch.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “And then today… when you left me on read for hours…”

He let out a breath. “So this is what it feels like, huh?”

Your eyes flicked up at that. Something in your jaw shifted. But you still didn’t speak.

“I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you were too much. Like your love was inconvenient.”

His voice lowered.

“I miss you. And not just the version of you that always sent me good luck texts or made dinner reservations when I forgot, I miss the you who believed in me even when I didn’t show up for you.”

You leaned against the doorframe. Not moving. Not softening.

And that’s when he got it, really got it.

Because now, he was the one waiting. The one hoping for warmth. The one left on read.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me right now. You don’t have to be ready. But I want to fix this. I want to stop treating you like a second thought and start treating you like you deserve.”

He paused, swallowing hard.

“Dinner’s still on the table. If you’ll come.”

The silence stretched for a beat. Then two.

Finally, you opened the door just a little wider.

“Where?” you asked, voice quiet but steady.

He blinked. “What?”

“Where’s dinner?”

Hope bloomed fast in his chest, raw, real, and maybe still fragile, but there.

He gave a half-laugh, half-breath of disbelief. “Anywhere you want.”

You stepped inside to grab your jacket without another word. But the door stayed open behind you.

And for the first time in a long time, Hongjoong understood exactly what it meant when someone shows up even after being hurt.

Because you did.

And this time, so would he.

Yunho:

You hadn’t seen him since the day he ended things.

He hadn’t yelled. There weren’t tears or a dramatic scene. Just that same calm voice he always used, too calm, like he was trying to stay numb.

“Maybe we’re not right for each other anymore.”

You’d stood there frozen. Because it wasn’t a fight. There wasn’t something to argue against. He had just walked out. Quietly. Like it wouldn’t hurt forever.

And for the past three weeks, you’d done everything you could to keep moving, but your chest never stopped feeling heavy.

So when the knock came, you almost didn’t answer it. Some part of you still hoped it was him, but hoping hurt.

And yet… it was him.

Yunho stood outside your door, hood pulled up, cap low, eyes glassy and red-rimmed like he hadn’t slept in days. His breath fogged in the evening air, but he didn’t speak, not at first.

He just looked at you, mouth slightly parted, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to be here.

“You left,” you said, voice low and flat.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I never really let go.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t invite him in. So he stood there, taking it, whatever you were ready to give, or not give at all.

“I broke up with you thinking it would make life easier,” he said. “That if we weren’t together, I’d have more time, less pressure, fewer expectations.”

He swallowed hard.

“But all I did was tear it apart. My days feel longer. My bed feels empty. And everything I used to love doesn’t make me feel anything now.”

You looked at him then, and the pain on his face nearly cracked you open.

“I kept telling myself you needed too much,” he went on, voice trembling. “But the truth is… I was the one who needed more. More patience. More strength. More you.”

His chest rose and fell shakily.

“You were never asking for too much. You just asked me to show up. To try. And I ran.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to crumble.

“I miss your voice in the morning. I miss your socks mixed in with mine. I miss knowing someone out there saw me, really saw me, and still stayed.”

His voice broke.

“I thought I could be okay without you. But I can’t. I don’t want to learn how.”

The silence between you buzzed like static.

“I’m not asking to erase what I did. I’m not asking you to forget how I hurt you. I just…” he stepped forward, breath catching, “I just need you to know, if there’s any part of you that still wants me, I’ll spend every day proving I won’t walk away again.”

And when you didn’t answer, he didn’t beg.

He just stood there, waiting. Willing to face the ache he left you with, even if all you gave him in return was the door slowly closing.

Yeosang:

You weren’t sure why you expected anything different from tonight.

You had tried, gently, to bring it up. How distant he’d been lately. How you felt like you were loving him through a fog, always reaching, never quite touching. You hadn’t raised your voice. You hadn’t accused him of anything.

But somewhere in the middle of your sentence, Yeosang had sighed and said:

“Why does everything have to be so dramatic with you?”

He hadn’t even looked at you when he said it. Just stared at his phone. Barely blinking. Barely present.

The silence that followed was heavier than any shouting match.

An hour passed. You expected the front door to open and close with him leaving. But instead…

A knock.

Soft. Three quick taps. Then stillness.

You didn’t move at first. But then

“Can I come in?” His voice was quiet, muffled by the wood. Not demanding. Not confident. Careful.

You opened the door slowly.

He looked… small. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times. His bottom lip was bitten red. And his eyes, his eyes wouldn’t quite meet yours.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” he started. “About you being dramatic.”

You waited.

“I didn’t mean it. Not even a little.”

He stepped inside, slowly, hands in his hoodie sleeves, unsure of what to do with them. “You weren’t overreacting. You weren’t picking a fight. You were telling me how you feel, and I… dismissed it.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“I think sometimes I freeze when I don’t know how to respond. I act cold. Detached. Like that makes me look in control.” He finally looked at you, really looked. “But all it does is make the people who care about me feel like I don’t care back.”

You blinked, throat tight.

“I wasn’t taking you seriously. I wasn’t taking us seriously. Not tonight. Not the way I should’ve.”

He stepped a little closer, then stopped himself. “But I am now.”

There was a long pause. Then, with a shaky breath:

“You were right. I’ve been distant. I didn’t want to admit it because I don’t have a good reason for it. I’ve just been in my own head and shutting you out instead of letting you in.”

His voice dropped even lower, rough around the edges.

“You didn’t make everything dramatic. You made everything real. And I made you feel like your feelings were an inconvenience.”

The silence between you cracked a little when he added, softly

“I’m sorry.”

He held out his hand like he wasn’t sure you’d take it. “If I promise to really try, not just to listen, but to hear you, would you let me stay? Even if it’s just for tonight?”

You didn’t answer right away.

But the way he was looking at you, finally, fully, made you feel seen again.

And maybe that was the apology you needed more than anything.

San:

It had started small.

You’d reached for his hand in the kitchen, trying to slow him down, trying to talk about how you’d been feeling like he wasn’t really present lately, like his body was here but his mind was always somewhere else. On tour. In the studio. On his phone.

You’d said, “I just miss you.”

And he’d pulled his hand back like your touch burned.

“Why do you always need so much from me?”

That stopped everything.

You blinked, stunned. He wasn’t yelling, but it felt louder than any scream. You opened your mouth, but the rest of your words got caught somewhere in your chest. Instead, you walked away. Into the bedroom. Closed the door behind you, because if you didn’t, you’d fall apart in front of him.

San didn’t follow.

Not at first.

The door stayed shut. The apartment stayed quiet.

Until—

A knock.

Then his voice, muffled, low, wrecked:

“Baby, please open the door.”

You hesitated. You were still shaking. Still hearing his voice in your head, repeating that question like a cruel loop. Why do you always need so much from me?

But something about the sound of his voice, the crack in it, made you reach for the handle.

You opened the door to find San leaning against the frame, hands braced on either side like he was barely holding himself up. His eyes were rimmed with red. His cheeks flushed with emotion he couldn’t hide if he tried.

“I didn’t mean it,” he said immediately, desperately. “God, I didn’t mean it.”

You didn’t say a word. Your silence hit harder than any yelling ever could.

“I was overwhelmed and I said the first shitty, cowardly thing that came into my mouth. And the second I said it, I wanted to rip the words out of the air.”

He took a step closer, but didn’t touch you. “You don’t ask for too much. You never have. You ask for me. My time. My heart. And I’ve been so wrapped up in everything else, I forgot what it means to actually give that.”

He shook his head, jaw tight like he was trying not to cry.

“You tell me you miss me and I treat it like a burden? What the hell is wrong with me?”

Your throat burned.

He took a breath and pressed his palm flat against his chest. “It’s not that you ask too much of me. It’s that I’ve been giving you so little lately, it feels like anything at all is too much.”

His eyes met yours, glossy and pained.

“I love you,” he said, voice breaking. “I love you so much that it terrifies me. And sometimes when I feel like I’m failing you, I push instead of pulling you closer.”

He wiped at his face, chest heaving. “But I’m done doing that. If you’ll let me… I want to be better. For you. For us.”

A tear slipped down your cheek. His eyes followed it all the way down like it killed him to see it.

“I know I don’t deserve forgiveness right away,” he whispered. “But please — just tell me I didn’t ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You stepped forward, slowly. Just enough that he didn’t have to guess.

And this time, when he reached for your hand, it wasn’t to pull away.

It was to hold on.

Mingi:

It had been days since the argument.

Only… it hadn’t been much of an argument. It had been you, speaking honestly, telling him that lately, you felt like a ghost in his life. Like you were always the one reaching out, always the one waiting. Waiting for a call, a text, a sign that he saw you.

And him?

He hadn’t fought. He hadn’t begged. He’d barely said anything at all.

Just clenched his jaw. Sat there. Silent.

You’d waited for something. Anything.

But all he gave you was quiet.

So you left.

He didn’t stop you.

And that silence, the one that followed, was worse than the one during the argument. Because now it stretched between two broken hearts.

Until tonight.

You were sitting on your bedroom floor, back against the bed, scrolling through old photos you’d told yourself not to look at. Laughing selfies. Half-blurry videos of him rapping under his breath in the car. Messages from nights when he used to say goodnight, love you without fail.

Then a knock.

You froze.

And when you opened the door, there he was.

Mingi. Hoodie damp from the light rain outside. Shoulders hunched, eyes red, hands wringing the hem of his sleeves like he needed something to hold onto.

“I didn’t know if you’d answer,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t.”

You didn’t speak. Not yet. He didn’t expect you to.

“I’ve never been good at saying things when I need to,” he started, voice trembling. “Sometimes I feel too much all at once, and it chokes me. And when you were telling me how you felt… I just sat there. Because I didn’t know how to fix it. And instead of trying, I shut down.”

His eyes were shining.

“I wasn’t cold because I didn’t care. I was quiet because I didn’t know how to show you that I did. But that’s not fair to you.”

He stepped closer, slowly.

“You told me you felt invisible. That you were tired of always being the one who reached out. And I should’ve said something. Anything. But I let the silence answer for me, and it said all the wrong things.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but your lips stayed still.

He took a shaky breath. “I didn’t say it, but I felt it. I felt everything. I just… didn’t know how to show you.”

He lifted his eyes to yours, voice breaking.

“And then you walked away. And for the first time, I understood what silence really sounds like.”

He reached out, slow and careful, like he didn’t expect you to reach back.

“I don’t want to go another day wondering if I’ve lost the one person who loved me anyway. Loved me even when I wasn’t making it easy.”

The rain outside tapped against the windows like it was waiting too.

“If there’s still a piece of you that wants this, I swear, I’ll never leave you wondering again.”

And maybe he hadn’t said much before. Maybe he’d stayed quiet when it mattered most.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was finally speaking the words that had been living in the ache of his chest all along.

Wooyoung:

It started subtly.

A missed good morning text, just one. Then two. Then three.

No updates about what you were eating for lunch. No late-night selfies. No rambling voice notes about how your day went, or the weird cat you saw on the way home, or how your barista spelled your name hilariously wrong again.

At first, Wooyoung didn’t panic.

He figured you were busy. Or maybe your phone had died. You were always a little scatterbrained. He thought it was cute.

But by day four, the silence started to weigh differently.

He scrolled through your past messages, his own replies now glaring. A string of dry responses. A few late replies. Some heart emojis sent on autopilot. He started to see patterns — moments he brushed off your excitement, teased your need for check-ins with lines like:

“You really text me more than my mom.

You always laughed them off. Or so he thought.

Until tonight.

He called. For the first time in a while, it rang. You picked up.

“Hey,” your voice came through flat. Tired. Nothing like how it used to be, all soft affection and brightness just from hearing his name.

Wooyoung sat up in bed, heart kicking into gear. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet lately.”

You hesitated. And that pause told him more than any words could.

“I just…” you finally said, “I didn’t want to be annoying. Or clingy. I figured I’d give you some space.”

Wooyoung’s heart stopped.

Your voice was distant, not cold, just… careful. Like you’d started building walls, brick by brick, while he wasn’t paying attention.

And then the realization hit.

His whole “God, you’re obsessed with me, aren’t you?” comment.

“I don’t want to overwhelm you,” you added quietly. “You probably enjoyed that I didn’t text anyway.”

“Stop,” he breathed, sitting up straighter, the words catching in his throat. “Don’t say that. Please.”

There was silence on your end. So he filled it.

He stood, pacing now, like movement might slow the panic rising in his chest.

“I could see you were pulling away, and I didn’t know why. But now I do. It’s because of me. Because I was too caught up in being cute or funny or whatever the hell I thought I was — and I made you feel like your love was too much.”

You didn’t interrupt. Maybe because you didn’t believe him yet. Or maybe because part of you had been waiting for this — for him to see it.

“I thought it was harmless. I never meant to make you second-guess how you show up for me. I loved those messages. I love the way you care, the way you never make me guess how you feel.”

His voice cracked.

“You were never obsessive. Never clingy. You were consistent. You were present. And I was a goddamn idiot for not realizing how rare that is.”

Another beat passed. And then, gently:

“I miss you. I miss all of you — not just your messages, but the way you never hesitated to love me. Please don’t take that part of you away. Not because of me.”

Your breath hitched on the other end of the line.

“I’ll do better,” he promised. “I’ll be better. If you give me the chance.”

And for once, Wooyoung didn’t try to make it light. No joke. No wink. Just truth, raw and bare.

Because now, he knew better than to laugh at the kind of love most people spend a lifetime looking for.

Jongho:

He thought this was best for him, for the both of you.

Being apart would calm the frustration, the tension, the ache he couldn’t put into words.

So when he let you walk away, it wasn’t because he didn’t love you. It was because he didn’t know how to love you right, and instead of learning, he chose distance.

But the silence didn’t bring him peace.

It brought emptiness.

No more texts. No more playful eye rolls when he tried to hide a smile. No more soft hands reaching for his when he thought no one was looking. Just quiet. Cold, hollow quiet.

And the worst part? You didn’t come back.

Not after a few days.

Not after a week.

He thought you might. He thought maybe you’d fight for him, call him out like you always did. But this time, you respected his words. You gave him what he asked for.

And now he was the one left behind.

It was late when he showed up at your door. No text. No warning.

His hoodie was pulled tight over his head, eyes shadowed under the porch light. He looked nervous, the kind of nervous you only get when pride has been stripped away, when all that’s left is want.

You opened the door and froze.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just stood there, shoulders tense, eyes unreadable.

Then:

“Hey.”

Your arms crossed instinctively, more out of habit than hostility. “Why are you here, Jongho?”

He exhaled. “I… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

You didn’t answer.

“But every day since you left—” He paused, jaw tight. “—I’ve wanted you to come back. I just didn’t know if I deserved you.”

Your brows knit together. “Now you’re deciding this? After you told me I was too much, that I needed too much?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice low and rough. “I was overwhelmed. I felt like I was drowning in everything — practice, expectations, and yeah… us. But not because of you. Because I wasn’t letting myself lean on you.”

You stared at him. He looked different. Tired. Softer. But still him.

“Then why say those things?”

“Because I was scared,” he said, eyes meeting yours. “Of needing someone. Of letting myself be vulnerable. You were always so sure — about us, about me — and I… wasn’t. You're not exhausting to love, I was making it exhausting”

Your expression faltered.

“I thought pushing you away would give me control,” he continued. “But all it did was make me miserable.”

Silence stretched between you, taut and fragile.

“I was wrong,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have let you go.”

You looked away, blinking quickly. “You hurt me.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “And I hate myself for it. I know I can’t undo that. But if you still have anything left in your heart for me… anything at all… I want to try again.”

You didn’t respond right away. The pain was still there, fresh enough that your walls hadn’t come down yet. But something in you cracked, seeing the way he looked at you now. The regret in his posture. The hope barely hanging on.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” you said softly.

He nodded, eyes glinting. “Then I’ll earn it. Day by day. Even if you don’t forgive me tonight.”

Another long pause.

Then you opened the door a little wider.

“Come in.”

Jongho stepped forward like he couldn’t believe it. His hand brushed yours lightly as he passed, hesitant, asking permission even in the smallest ways.

And maybe the pain wasn’t gone.

Maybe it wouldn’t be for a while.

But sometimes, love returns, not loudly, but slowly. Carefully. With trembling hands and quiet hearts that still believe in healing.

And Jongho was ready to fight for it.

Taglist: @e3ellie @jonghoslilstar @sugakooie @atztrsr @honsans-atiny-24

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@hwasbabygirl @sunnysidesins @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @silverlight-h @seonghwaswifeuuuu

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[cloudyyy1]

bff yeosang but also yeosang with a big dick and doesnt know what to do with it. he really doesn’t think its that big, until you pull his sweats down and his dick springs free, smacking you in the face. he’s blushing and apologizing for the size, saying it’s probably not big enough. poor baby, the tips of his ears are burning red and he could probably cum if you stared too hard at his cock.

Hey so im going crazy! Absolutely mental!

this actually makes me Dizzy like... look he's ur bff. He's heard about ur escapades even though every time you talked abt it he wanted to die. the point is: he knows youre not judgemental. but he's still a little worried... what if he cant make u feel good </3

But when you finally get his pants off and you're just staring at his dick... he's a little embarrassed because you know!!!!! But then he's also embarrassed because you look like you're about to start drooling. when you look up at him he thinks he might short circuit.

"sorry," he mumbles, gasping in a breath when you take him in your hands. "probably not what you were expecting..."

he watches you swallow and wrap both of your hands around him, and he tries to rationalize the whole thing -- your hands are just really small, that's why you're struggling to get the tips of your fingers to touch! but you sigh, drawling, "yeosang... you're so big."

yeosang's heart is racing. no way he's making it out of this alive, not after wanting you for this long, not after seeing the way you're looking at him -- desperate, wanting, yearning. "yeah?" he gulps, breathing out a heavy exhale when you take one of your hands off of him and start stroking him with your other. "you think so?"

you meet his eyes and lick the tip of his cock, like you're getting a taste. yeosang whines. "mhm," you hum, nodding. your hand pumps him faster. "can't believe it took this long... always thought about you. bet you'd fill me up so well."

it hits yeosang like a punch in the chest and he thinks he's going to cum embarrassingly fast. it's almost like you notice, letting spit drip from your lips and onto his tip, moving your hand faster on him. "fffuck," he gasps. "gotta slow down, please, baby, you're gonna make me cum --"

you push your thighs together and the thought of you being as turned on as him is dizzying. it's so hot, and you only move faster, slicker, needier. "that's okay, sangie," you mumble. "you can go again, right?"

[cloudyyy1]

let me hear you.

—♡ you’re a famous popstar and leon kennedy is your beloved bodyguard. between the public eye and having to keep your relationship private for your safety, leons professionalism is once again tested.

—♡ warnings: bodyguard!leon, jealous/possessive, men being gross, oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected p in v, choking, size difference, pet names.

leon never used to be the possessive type until you landed in his grasp. even though he knew nobody could ever steal you from him, it was a quiet fear of his. the thing is, to the public eye, leon was nothing but your bodyguard. your protector. although, most people were afraid of him based on his physique. standing at 6ft tall with arm muscles the size of the average human head tends to scare off weak insecure men, he would constantly have to witness these men lusting over you. his girl, and it made him seethe. It was hard to continually remind himself that this was part of his job, and you were a famous popstar. obviously, you're going to get a lot of attention, and he was ashamed to admit that it still bothered him. 

like today. he overheard two men talking about you, he didn't recognize them. which was quite rare, considering most of the time these award show afterparties were full of other extremely popular musicians. but no matter who was in that room, and how famous they were, you always stole their attention and lustful gazes. 

“just look at her, god. the things i’d love to do to her…” the man says to his friend, shaking his head in what appeared to be disbelief as he watched you speak to one of your friends. 

“i know, did you see her new music video? leaves very little to the imagination for sure” the other man chuckled. before the two could say anything else, you finally spotted leon standing behind the two and a delicate smile graced your face. the boys then turned around, finally noticing leon standing there. they went pale in the face as you approached. knowing that he’d definitely heard every word they said based off the angry look leon was giving them. he could truly be terrifying when he wanted to. you’d seen that side of him many times, but never aimed at you of course. leon was a powerful man, able to get rid of them with a simple snap of his finger. you stood next to him, not realizing his displeased expression until you’d tilted your neck up to look into his eyes. he was still staring at them.

“leon, is everything ok?” you asked, tone worried as you followed his gaze and set your eyes on the two men you hadn’t even noticed before. he didn’t respond, his large hand wrapped around your arm as he led you away from the area. not questioning a single thing as it was crystal clear something was bothering him a significant amount. once the two of you had made it back to your hotel room, you turned to look at him as he closed the door.

“are you mad because they were looking at me? because you know i’d never even think to-” you began to explain.

“i know you wouldn’t.” leon interrupted, and your gaze softened.

“then what’s wrong?” you ask once again, approaching him slowly, looking into his eyes. he eventually met your eyes after a moment. “what were they saying?”

“nothing that you need to worry about, doll.” he reassured, resting his forehead against yours. never would you have imagined leon could be so soft.

“alright,” you say, a soft smile reappearing on your face. “i’m just gonna freshen up a little, ok?” you add, pressing a kiss to his lips before approaching the bathroom. leon sat down on the couch, hands rubbing his face as he tried to forget about what he’d heard earlier in the night. which was almost impossible, considering he heard those exact voices outside of the door. the familiar anger began to rise once again as he got up from the couch and passed towards the door, opening it quickly and immediately spotting the same smug faces he was mentally murdering moments ago.

they both gulped, eyes wide as they stood in front of the front door a meter from yours. they quickly entered the room to avoid confrontation. leon stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck they were doing in the room next to yours. before he could do anything else, your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“was someone at the door?” you ask, he turned his head to face you. looking at you adorned in one of his large shirts. quietly admiring the way your body drowned in it.

“two boys just went into the room next door. I assumed they’d reserved this floor for… other famous people i guess.”

“the ones that you were giving the death stare to earlier?” you ask, a cheeky smile on your face. “baby, they are famous.” you chuckle as you stared at your boyfriend. he shook his head, trying to hide his displeasure to the information he’d just heard.

“well, excuse me for not being up to date with pop culture, i dedicate all of my time to protecting you”

he says, you loved when he’d get sassy like this. their words from earlier kept repeating in his head as he approaches you, placing his large hands on your waist, kissing your lips delicately. “they don’t look like the famous type,” he says as he places his mouth to your neck, the feeling of his lips tickling your skin in the most delicious way. you whined softly. and that’s when he got the idea. the idea that would show those stupid guys who you belong to. who really gets to fuck you.

he smirked against you, lips abusing your skin and his hot tongue trailing over your sensitive spots. his hands found your ass, squeezing your cheeks sadistically which caused a sudden gasp to escape your throat. normally, leon would place his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet when you weren't at home, just in case people were around. the hotel was unreasonably fancy, but the walls still seemed paper thin, but this time he didn’t. you didn’t question it. you never questioned him.

“that’s it, let me hear your pretty sounds,” he says as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the pristine king-sized bed. 

he dropped you onto the mattress and hovered his frame over yours. his lips found yours once again, and you whined as his tongue slipped between yours. he’s all too familiar with how vocal you can be. even with his hand over your mouth or your head buried into the pillow, he can hear you crystal clear. he knew anyone nearby would be able to hear if he didn’t hush you, and that’s exactly what he wanted. for those stupid little pricks to hear how good he makes you feel. over and over.

his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the soft skin. you whined louder this time. you were so goddamn submissive under his touch, it drove him crazy.

he raised his stolen t-shirt up your body, exposing your torso as he lowered his head. trailing kisses all over your soft skin. you were addicted to the feeling of his stubble against you, he’d barely done anything and you were already a whimpering mess. his head trailed lower and lower. licking the skin above your panty line as he hooks his fingers into the edges of the fabric. effortlessly peeling them down your legs and throwing them off to the side.

he began peppering kisses to your inner thighs, feeling his hot breath against your dripping cunt was driving you wild.

“leon…” you whimpered loudly, legs trembling in suspense of the act that he was about to do. you were expecting him to respond. something like “be patient” or “good girls know how to wait” but he didn’t, he latched his lips onto your clit, causing your back to arch off the bed. your hand flew to your mouth, biting down on the side to muffle your moans. but leon stopped.

“no, baby girl. let me hear you,” you nodded your head, staring down at him between your legs. noticing the glistening shine of your wetness on his chin under the dull lighting of the room.

“good girl,” he said before diving back in. aggressively eating you out as he’s done many times before. your moans were quick to fill the room. your hands flew down to grasp at his blonde hair. you spread your legs wider, giving him as much access to you as possible. to say he was addicted to your sweet essence was an understatement. the way you shivered with every delicate swipe of his tongue against your sensitive crevices. his tongue studying each and every one, torturously slow, with enough force to send you into oblivion.

“l-leon, i’m about to… i can feel it-” you whine breathlessly as your orgasm approaches. hitting you fast before you could continue your stuttered sentence. loud whiny moans filling the room as you rode out your high.

he didn’t halt until your legs began twitching, licking up all of the cum you provided for him in exchange for an orgasm. he climbed back up your body slowly, leaving sloppy kisses up your stomach along the way.

he was proud of himself knowing how good he could make you feel with little to no effort. enamored by the way your body reacted to his touches. he know the boys would’ve heard everything he’d just done, but of course, he wasn’t satisfied just yet. his hand wrapped it’s way back around your throat once his face aligned with yours, his chin damp with your cum.

“all wet,” you said, smiling as your hand raised to his face. tracing along the wet area of his face. “wanna make somethin else wet too,” you added, moving the same hand between your bodies and palming his hardened cock over his pants.

“where did you ever learn to be such a dirty girl?” he grunted, a slight smile on his face as he moved your hand and pinned it beside your head.

“we both know the answer to that,” you bit your lip as his hand tightened around your wrist, looking up at him through squinted eyes. he moved back to remove his shirt, and you bit your lip as he did so. you followed his steps and removed your own. clothes thrown carelessly to the floor.

he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and underwear down, not bothering to completely remove the articles of clothing. he was getting impatient. he hovered over you once again, his large hands separating your thighs as far as they could go and lined himself up with your dripping entrance. he wasted no time, thrusting forward and impaling you with his cock with no warning. you screamed, hands flying to grasp his shoulders as he quickly set a brutal pace. your back arched off the mattress, pressing firmly against leons as he pounded into you. legs wrapping tightly around his muscular body.

“oh, f-fuck. leon!” you moaned, the head of the bed clunking against the wall with each of his intense thrusts. he grunts into your ear sadistically, fingers leaving crescent shapes on your thigh as they dig into your skin.

“wanna feel you cumming around me, baby. think you can do that for me?” he asks, you nodded your head. tears dripping down your cheeks as the pleasure because too much for your body to cope with. it didn’t take long for another orgasm to pulse through your body, legs trembling around leons torso as you chant his name. before you could process anything else, he’d flipped you onto your stomach. shoving his cock deep inside you once more as he held your hips to him. despite being extremely sensitive from your previous orgasms, you still craved more of him. your loud moans echoed off the walls as he took you from behind. clenching your walls around him to coax his orgasm out of him. craving the feeling of his cum flooding into you. 

you felt another orgasm approach as his thrusts became sloppy, indicating that he was also moments away from finishing.

“leon!” you moan, clutching the bedsheets below as the two of you came together. leon eventually stopped once your highs had subsided. he tiredly flipped you onto your back once more, tracing his rough fingers along your damp cheek.

“mm… leon… y’think anyone heard us?” you ask, voice breathy as your tired body rests comfortably beneath him.

“hard for em not to,” he replies, tracing his finger along your bottom lip before placing a soft kiss there.

and it was safe to say they’d definitely heard based on the looks they were giving the two of you the following morning. leon smirked proudly, hand resting on your waist as the two of you walked past them. and even if they'd somehow not heard leon fucking your brains out, your obvious limp would easily give it away.

[cloudyyy1]

Can I request an ateez yeosang x reader smut where he gets her to squirt for the first time and she slips into subspace? Etc?

embarrassed for me name to be there so here's an emoji

🐈‍⬛

23:52 • sᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ɢɪʀʟ (NSFW)

♡ softdom!boyfriend!Yeosang x sub!girlfriend!reader

♡ comfort, domestic, smut

♡ WC • 4009

♡ Warnings!! (tags) • unprotected sex, size kink, deflowering, subspace, praise, oral (f/r), overstimulation, edging, squirting, pet names, marking, multiple positions, afab reader, swearing, aftercare. (pls lmk if I missed anything.)

♡ A/N: my first request! Thank you anonnie! 🫶🫶 I hope this was to your liking. and something for @shinestarhwaa while you wait for the wooyoung fic 😚.

♡ ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

♡*♡∞:｡.｡ ♡*♡∞♡*♡∞:｡.｡ ｡.｡:∞♡*♡ ｡.｡:∞♡*♡ ｡.｡:∞♡*♡

 Your eyes were on the white ceiling, occupying yourself by looking at the slight texture of it. You tried focusing on the sound of the city below your apartment, but you quite couldn’t do that much when the sound filling the room was Yeosang slurping away at your pussy, his tongue alternating between curling inside your hole and swirling around your clit. 

   He had your legs hunched over his shoulders, your inner thighs adorned with love bites, and his drying saliva. Your outer thighs felt the chill of your room, meanwhile, his body in between them made you all the warmer. Your hands travelled up his hoodie that you had on, playing at your tits.

   Yeosang’s rough hands kneaded at your love handles, running down the rolls of your waist inside the hoodie, and down to your exposed hips. All while making out with your throbbing clit.

   Propping himself up, he sucked on his fingers, and carefully put a finger inside you. You exhaled deeply, hiding in the comfort of the hood as he proceeded to stretch your hole out. First with his middle finger, then adding his ring, and eventually his index. He scissored and made ‘threes’ inside your hole, making sure to stretch you out enough for what was to come later.

   He kissed your pelvis soothingly as he did, then licked a stripe up your clit, flicking it with the tip of his skillful tongue. You moved to pet his fluffy black hair, being met with his soft puppy-like eyes that are so perfectly complemented by the heart-shaped birthmark on his left eye. He let you pet him for a moment before gently grabbing your hips with both hands, sitting you up, and helping you onto your tummy, but you paused for a moment.

   “What’s the matter, little one?” he cocked his head, speaking to you in that nauseously careful tone of his. You fumbled with the hem of his hoodie, and he hummed. “Off?” you nodded silently, raising your arms above your head as he slipped it off you. Once it came off you then laid onto your front, the sheets caressing your bare skin, not so much the cold air that determined to leave goosebumps on your arms and back though.

   You could hear Yeosang behind you, the rustling of him taking off his sweats and the soft thud of it landing after he discarded it carelessly in a random area of your room. His underwear came next, you didn't want to turn your head and look at what he’d been hiding all this time, maybe it might intimidate you, and you didn’t want to back out of this, not when you were already to that point.

    Your head rested in your nestled arms. He moved your hair out of the way from your back, as he ran his soft hands up and down your spine. You shivered at his feather-light touches, along with the overwhelming comfort of the fluffy sheets below, melting into your nude front.

   “Sweet girl,” Yeosang whispered, caging you between his arms as he propped himself planked on the bed. He kept his tone soft and quiet so as to not disrupt the comfortable silence in the room. He then caged your legs between his and leaned down close to your head. You could feel his warm breath fanning the side of your face and neck. “Tell me if it’s too much. Alright, little one?” he cooed at you, and you nodded softly.

   Yeosang set himself on his elbows, nuzzling into your neck as he gently pushed into your tight hole. He had more girth than the small toys you regularly used, making you whimper slightly at the foreign size. He wasn’t even halfway through when he paused, worried at your noise of discomfort. His hand reached around to hold yours, cooing soothing words to you. 

   You shook your head when Yeosang asked if you wanted to stop. “Jus’ not used to it,” you mumbled into the pillow. He nodded silently in understanding, leaving a gentle squeeze on the hand that he held as he started to push in the rest of his cock. Your walls flutter around him as he stretches you out, his length slowly expanding your hymen till it tears. 

   Feeling your hymen tear you squeezed his hand. It didn’t hurt much, but you paused nonetheless. He was bigger inside you than you thought he would be, and your eyebrows creased as you attempted to adjust to him.

   “Shh,” Yeosang pets your hair, his lips against your head. “Easy, easy… you’re alright, little one,” he murmurs, kissing your head softly. You can feel his balls firmly against your pussy lips, adding a new warmth to your already furnaced heat. Your walls locked him in snugly. The plush, gummy-like texture caressed his veins. You could feel his cock pulsate inside you, it was hard to ease yourself.

   “You’re squeezing me so tight baby, you’re so tense,” your boyfriend attempted to soothe you, moving his hands to caress and massage at your sides and hips. “Ease up for me, angel,” he murmurs, the husk in his voice coming deep from his throat.

   It was hard to follow as he told you, as you could feel Yeosang bulging out of your tummy. Nonetheless, you took a deep breath as you slowly unclenched around him, making him sigh in relief. He wouldn’t admit it to you but the tightness of you clamping down on him so aggressively like a vice caused him a bit of discomfort and pain. Not really any man admits to it, to hold their pride in the bedroom, but yeosang held his discomfort in to make you feel more comfortable around him. He didn’t want you to panic over causing him pain when he was the one taking care of you.

   “You ready for me to move, little angel?” He asks gently, resting back down onto his elbows. You gave it a few more seconds before nodding softly, reaching behind you to hold his hand. Taking the hint he laid both your hands at the sides of your head, interlacing his from behind. Languidly, he started to move, very carefully pulling back his hips before slowly dipping back in. 

   His pelvis met your ass. Warm skin meeting each other before departing a few inches and meeting again after a few seconds. Yeosang guided you to take deep breaths, with each gentle thrust in and out. Fluttering your eyes shut you burrowed your face into your pillow, inhaling and exhaling deeply through your nose.

   Though it was quiet in the room the squelching reverberation of your intimates grinding together made your ears ring. The longer you adjusted to his cock the more he felt fitted inside you, his strokes feeling more pleasurable. He moved fluidly, rolling his hips into you instead of going straight and stiff.  You could feel each pant of his warm breath against your neck, trying to hold himself back from fucking you senseless. You just felt too good. With a hum, he asked-

   “How is that for you my love?”

   You nodded, letting out a small ‘good, Sangie’ before asking if he could pick up the pace now that you were more comfortable. Yeosang spread out his legs more and locked his legs around yours, planking himself up now on his hands, still laced with yours. Once adjusted he gave a few experimental thrusts before starting to move at a more moderate pace, soft claps now beginning to echo throughout the room as you released a quiet moan into the pillow below. Taking in the pleasured tone, he released his right hand from yours, placing his hand onto the headboard as he continued with his pace, still paying attention to your reactions.

   Every thrust that was deep enough he noticed you flutter around him and micro-orgasm, taking note of how your noises sounded more sweet and higher in volume. Every little detail mattered to him. Yeosang’s eyes were locked onto you below him, mainly your fingers and the way they gripped the sheets. Did they claw or twist the fabric, rake, or simply press?

   Without thinking, Yeosang picked up his pace to a quicker one. Not too fast or abrupt but above moderate. His brain flipped its switch for a moment there, focused on the way you clamped around him and how good his tip felt rubbing against your walls. His shaft felt so warm when in, but cold and wet when out. 

   Yeosang moaned softly, head thrown back as he let his hips take control and have a mind of their own. His head leaned back forward again, eyes closing as he moaned prettily.

   “Baby,” he said, returning to his elbows as he hugged your whimpering figure, his nose nuzzled into your neck. His tip hit that particular spot inside you, that you almost always reached with your toys but never quite could.

His cock thrust into exactly there, making your face contort and your noises increase. “Sangie- Sangie right there,” you whined, your arm looping to him that had wrapped around your neck warmly. “Right there, yeah?” he echoed back to you, deciding to go just a bit harder now as you babbled out little ‘Sangie’s here and there.

   Your walls contracted with every thrust, feeling emptiness before he filled you up again. The texture of his smooth head and rough, veiny shaft were the perfect mix, a foreign feeling than any of the rubber or silicone toys you used. You could get used to this.

   A couple of minutes of him boning you lasted before he pulled out from behind you, untangling your legs and sitting on his heels. His hands went to your shoulders and waist, guiding you to flip onto your back now. He moved your hair from under your back to not itch you at all and made sure your head was secure and comfortable in the pillows before placing a pillow under your tailbone and lifting your hips up. At this angle you could see his cock- he wasn’t overly hung but he was there, pale and cut, with a pretty rouge-pink head. He was an average six, you assumed his girth to be the same, he was thick. It made sense as to why your walls felt unusually stretched out.

   Noticing your staring he chuckled lightly, patting your cheek, and you looked up at him who now hovered over you. 

   “It already fit, why so scared?” he teased, noticing the way your eyes timidly peeked at his friend down there. Your cheeks flushed pink, as you shook your head. “, ’m not,” you mumbled, and he leaned down to press a reassuring peck to your nose. “Just focus on me, angel, hmm?” and you nodded.

   Aligning himself with your entrance, he entered you once again. You let out a particularly sweet whine when he began moving inside you again, resulting in your hands moving to cover your face.

   “Uh-uh,” Yeosang reached for your wrists, “mm-mm, let me see you, angel. Let Sangie see his pretty little angel,” he said under his breath, taking your wrists and pinning them to the sides of your head. You felt meek under him at this angle, full view of your breasts going up and down your chest when he thrusts. Not only that but your expressions, which he found so pretty to look at. The way your eyebrows creased and furrowed, the way you sucked in and bit down on your lip, the way your eyelids fluttered as you restrained from letting them close, wanting to keep your eyes on his angelic face above you. The tips of his ears were a shade of red, and sweat beading at his hairline. His eyes would close for a moment or two when he brushed against a certain spot inside you, and eventually, once again he found your special place, raw dogging with it once he noticed your back arch.

   “go harder, Sangie, please.” you whimpered, and he didn't think twice before wrapping your legs around his waist and putting you in a mating press, thrusting down into your needy hole.

   “Oh fuck, jagiya,” Yeosang practically whimpered, his moans escaping his lips more frequently now. His beefy tits are right above you, you can see the movement of his pectorals and his hard nipples, begging to be played with. You didn’t have a chance to though as he swooped down, capturing your lips in his in a long-awaited needy kiss. The contact of his black-cherry chapstick-flavoured lips against yours sealed everything, as you felt a knot start to build up inside your lower tummy.

   “S-Sangie-” you tried speaking between kisses, your walls clamping down on him. He felt this, not wanting you to cum yet he pulled out, restricting you from your orgasm. A loud whine escaped your throat, as your eyes went wide open and you looked at him with confusion.

   “Shh, baby. I’ll let you cum soon, but not right now.” Yeosang rubbed your clit gently as he pushed back in, moving languidly and now leaning down to your neck, gathering your hair in one hand out of his way as he began to nibble and suck at your neck and collarbone, leaving red and purple markings, now matching your thighs. His lips travelled to your nipples, taking a hard bud into his mouth as his free hand occupied the other one.

   His thrusts had come to a complete stop as he toyed with your sensitive nipples, your pussy cockwarming him as he stayed inside you. Yeosang had you filled, making all the play more sensitive. His tongue glided right on the bud, your walls contracting for a brief moment as you micro-orgasmed around his cock, a small moan sounding in your ears from him.

   Seemingly satisfied with your reaction Yeosang started up his thrusts once more, deep and moderate. He groaned and pressed himself up completely against you, cradling your head into his neck. The slaps were wet. A squelching sound from all the buildup reverberated into your sensitive senses, sending flutters from your stomach to your clit, the pearl sticking from your lips.

   Yeosang had you in a headlock as he thrusted. You inhaled his scent and it made you feel so locked in, like a swaddled baby in his arms. Every time you got close to orgasm he would slow down to a stop, until he was satisfied the fourth time around and let go of your head, planking himself up so he could press one of his hands slowly into your stomach right where the slight bulge of him was.

   You microed back to back until the knot started building up. Your pussy was so sensitive by now that you weren’t even sure if you would be able to cum. You not only felt that but a mixed feeling of having to be relieved too. It was almost difficult to put into words, but you tried nonetheless.

   All Yeosang heard were babbles coming from you, he chuckled softly. His hand that was on your stomach went to your throbbing clit, and he pressed his middle finger up on it. Your eyes rolled back before looking back up at him, your hands on his shoulders as you tried to get the words out. He shushed you though, and rubbed a few small but firm circles before you felt a gushing sensation via your urethra, straight spilling onto the sheets as well as Yeosang’s pelvis. He pulled out and dove his fingers straight into your hole, moving quickly as he watched your expressions and listened to your pretty noises.

   “See? There we go, pretty girl. Came so beautifully for Sangie, didn’t you?”

   Your brain felt fuzzy after your orgasm, eyes clearing up and legs going limp. A deep exhale exited your lungs and you closed your eyes, now feeling the sweat that built up under your back that dampened the pillow under your tailbone. Yeosang looked down at you with his soft, puppy-like expression, cradling your face with his palms.

   “You’re such a good angel for me, baby-”

   “Sangie,” You cut off, looking up at him with a pout. His expression shifted to slight worry.

   “Hmm? What happened, angel?”

   Your legs wrapped back around his waist, pulling him back in as you babbled at him-

   “Sangie, Sangie didn't cum,”

   Yeosang’s expression softened again, as he looked down at you with a mix of amusement and adoration. “That's because Sangie was focused on you, baby. You want Sangie to cum?” your hands ran down his beefy arms, nodding adamantly but no words coming out your mouth.

   Your boyfriend smiled softly at the way you became so much more needy for him now, noticeably slipping into your subspace. He always noticed from the way you become so much more desperate and clingy, your eyes having a different demeanor to them as well. It felt as if he was handling a delicate flower or a porcelain vase that would shatter any minute.

   Gently, he slipped back into you for what felt like the nth time, keeping his movements gentle and languid as he knew you were still sensitive. He hugged you close, peppering kisses to your face and a plush one onto your wet lips. It didn’t take much time before his balls started to tighten since he'd been holding it in. “I-Inside,” you murmur, “inside?” he echoes back for confirmation, and you answer with a “yes, please.”. With a few more pushes rubbing against your cervix, he spilled into you, filling up your womb with his cum. You visibly flutter at the comforting feeling, humming in contentment as he finishes inside you. He keeps himself nestled there, letting you cuddle him to your delight until he eventually pulls away and carefully pulls out, a pop separating his cock from your hole.

   Yeosang kisses your forehead before going to the connected bathroom inside the bedroom, leaving you nestled into the bed. You close your legs to keep his cum inside, it felt better knowing it was your boyfriend’s instead of the fake cum of an ejaculating toy. 

   You hear the water running from the faucet of your bathtub, your head moving to the side to get a better angle of what Yeosang’s doing in the bathroom but the door is halfway closed. You can smell the familiar scent of your vanilla bean candle though, and soon enough Yeosang emerges from the bathroom, coming towards your curled-up figure and scooping you into his big arms, nuzzling your hair as he walks you back to the bathroom. 

   Sure enough, you saw what you had smelled. At the rim of the tub were your candles, some unscented leaving only one scented so as to not overwhelm your already delicate senses. The bathtub was filled with bubble bath, not too much that it overflowed but just enough. Yeosang slowly lowered you into the tub, the warm water engulfing your skin inch by inch. He settled you comfortably, your back leaning against the wall. The bubbles went up to your shoulders.

   You frowned when Yeosang stood back up straight to leave, your face contorting. “Where are you going?” You pout, and he turns to look at you. “I'm gonna put the sheets to wash, I'll be back quick, angel.” he promises, before heading out of the bathroom. 

   He took a couple minutes, coming back to find you playing with the bubbles, completely whisked away in your own little world. He slowly makes his way over to you, crouching down at the bathside and running his hands through your hair. Grabbing the body wash, he pumps a generous amount into your baby pink loofah, and takes your arm, starting off with that. The soothing feeling of him lathering you goes up your arm and across your chest, and to your other arm as well. Yeosang makes sure to get your neck, behind your ears, your back, and so on so forth. 

   Once you’ve been bathed, he takes his time washing your hair. His fingers massage the shampoo into your scalp, making sure to be careful incase you were tenderheaded. Your soft sounds of contentment were reassurances to him, as he watched you relax under his touch. You reminded him of a ragdoll, the way your eyes looked at him with adoration when in this headspace, completely reliant and stuck onto him. He adored the moments of when he would attempt to leave the bed, only for you to pull him back with a ‘no, Sangie’, or those moments of him walking into the room to find you curled up in his clothes, hugging his pillow that was drowned in his scent. 

   Too caught up in his thoughts, Yeosang didn’t realize you had fallen asleep. He quickened his pace of finishing to wash your hair before picking you up out of the tub, wrapping you in a fluffy towel and unplugging the tub. As much as he tried to not awake you, you woke up out of your light slumber anyway. It was a tiny dozing off.

   “Out the bath?” You cooed tirely, and he nodded. “Baby out the bath, mhm. Cmon, Sangie needs to dry your hair so you don’t get sick, little one, don’t you think?”

   Yeosang dried your body, putting you in his shirt and a fresh pair of panties. He then sat you in front of the vanity, taking your wet brush and untangling your hair before plugging in the blowdryer. You flinched at the loud noise, and he immediately shushed you, crooning. “It’s just the blowdryer, I’ll put it on low for you, angel.”

   He adjusted it to a low setting so it’s quieter, sectioning your hair and drying it. Again, he took his time, even though by now it was two in the morning. He didn’t mind, he was only worried about you right now. Plus, he had the week off, time wasn’t his priority at the moment. You stared at him through the mirror, admiring his face. Your eyes locked onto his birthmark, you always found it to be so pretty. Despite his insecurities about it, you always made sure to sit on the side of him where you could see it regardless.

   Yeosang seemed to notice this. He looked at you through the window and smiled gently, before focusing back on your hair. It took what felt like forever, but eventually he got it done and he led you back to the bathroom.

   Your boyfriend lifted you and sat you on the counter. You swung your legs a bit, watching as he grabbed your bow headband and put it on you, pushing back the hair that framed your face. He started off by washing your face, using your favourite cleanser. Once he was done with that he applied your eyepatches, and applied your moisterizer. Yeosang knew you were tired so he didn’t want to drag your skincare routine out. While he was waiting for the eyebags to do whatever they were supposed to he took the time to brush your teeth, holding your jaw and giggling at the way your eyes were slowly shutting. 

   Hurrying up, he cleaned your mouth, and took off your eyebags and headband, bringing you back to bed. He took a quick trip to the kitchen to leave you a cold glass of water, and after tucking you in he took a quick shower himself. Yeosang figured he’ll worry about everything else later on, getting dressed into boxers and climbing into bed with your sleepy form.

   You felt the bed dip, and shuffled close to Yeosang subconsciously, burrowing into his side. He smiled once more and kissed your head, turning off the lamp and pulling the covers over the both of you. His hand caressed your head as he stared out the window, watching the city lights. Soon sleep got the best of him, and he fell asleep with you in his arms, occupying his side of the bed.

   Holding close to him his sweet, pretty girl.

[cloudyyy1]

What I look like at the function knowing I should be in bed reading a reader insert rn

[cloudyyy1]

find you in my heart

✦ summary: the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, slight angst, some fluff, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, big dick yh, unprotected sex (be safe!), yh is desperately in love, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, mentions of cheating (past relationships), yh and reader met as baristas, pet names, au where jeong yunho can actually cook, yunho is a lil possessive

✦ pairing: nonidol!yunho x reader

✦ author’s note: as a yunho ult, a yh best friends to lovers has been at the top of my list of things to write. i started this fic after yun posted these photos because i just could not get the vision of late night walks with him out of my head! i am new to writing so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you enjoy ♡ as always, thank you to my lovely best friends for enabling me and proofreading my depravity. love you guys forever. ♡

✦ word count: 12.9k

✦ read it on ao3: here

Two years. Two years down the drain because your ex decided he “wasn’t feeling it anymore.” You had a sneaking suspicion his change of heart had to do with his hot new coworker, but you couldn’t think too far into it or it would rip you apart more than he already had. 

He had grown distant, and you chalked it up to the stress of his new job. But when he started staying late every other day and missing your sacred Thursday date nights, you knew it was the beginning of the end. You were happy together (most of the time), but you were never certain you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. There were certain things about him that you tolerated, but you wanted your forever to be spent with someone who felt perfect for you. And he… didn’t.

Even though you knew he wasn’t who you’d spend your life with, it stung just the same to receive his messages. 

loser: hey y/n… i’ve been thinking about this for a while now but i think it’s time for us to part ways. 

loser: we’ve had a good run, but i’m just not really feeling it anymore. i hope you understand. 

loser: wish you the best. xx 

You’d changed his contact and blocked his number immediately, saving yourself from the hurtful words he’d throw your way if you tried to ask for any reasoning or clarification. He always turned into a different person the moment you tried to express your emotions. 

“She’s just a coworker, y/n, stop being crazy. You don’t have to worry about her.” 

You push his words out of your brain again before they take over. So what if he left you for her? They probably deserve each other. You knew you were better off, that wasn’t the issue. It was that you settled for two years, letting this man who clearly didn’t respect you treat you like an afterthought the entire time. The more you think about it, the more you blame yourself for placing such little value on your own time and energy. 

You sit on your couch, your coffee table littered with tear-soaked tissues and instant ramen cups. You haven’t  left the house since you got The Texts last night, and you've watched a season of your favorite crime show and eaten your body weight in Buldak since then. You know you can’t sit here and wallow anymore or you’ll start to lose your mind, so you drag yourself to the bathroom to assess the damage. Eyes red and puffy from crying, hair tangled and tied loosely in a scrunchie, tear drops lingering on the same sweatshirt you’d been wearing for the last 24 hours. You look like hell. 

“I need to get out of this apartment,” you say to yourself. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your best friend before hopping in the shower. After washing your hair 3 times, shaving your legs, and exfoliating the sadness away, you’re finally starting to feel human again. You wrap yourself in your favorite towel before checking your phone again. 

y/n: yunnie… are you free tonight? 

yunho: for you? absolutely. you ok? haven’t heard from you all day.

Of course he’d notice you going MIA for a day. You and your best friend texted every single day, sending quick little updates or funny videos. He’d probably been worried sick, but he never wants to pry. He’s always respected your space like that. 

y/n: long story. i’ll explain later. 

y/n: meet me in front of blossom in 30? 

Blossom was the cafe you and Yunho met working at. You were both burning the candle at both ends working nearly full time as baristas during your senior year of college. Your closing shifts together kept you sane during finals, blasting music and sharing your life stories while you cleaned up the shop. He’d even walk you home, after every closing shift, never wanting to let you walk alone so late. You both gave your two weeks notice right after graduation, but promised each other you’d make up for all the time you wouldn’t spend working together anymore. 

That was four years ago, and he’d been such a stable presence in your life since then. You’d grown closer over the years, spending countless movie nights and BBQ dates together. He knew everything about you (after a movie night with too much wine and lots of oversharing) and hadn’t gone running for the hills, so you knew he really cared. You didn’t really have time to make friends in college because you were either working, in class, or studying, so he was really all you had. He was your safe space. You both stayed close by after graduation, staying in your apartments in the city 2 blocks from the cafe on either side. It was nice having your best friend so close by, and the cafe remained a staple in your friendship as a middle point between your two homes. In your reminiscing, you realize you missed your Saturday morning coffee date with him. 

yunho: of course, bean. i missed you this morning. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname. It always does. That, and when he calls you sweetheart. Your heart almost came up your throat the first time he pulled that one. Yunho started calling you bean after you spilled an entire bag of light roast on the cafe floor trying to refill the hopper for the openers. He’ll never let you live that one down. You remembered giggling and scooping coffee beans off the floor on your hands and knees together, his hand brushing over yours when you both reached for the dustpan, your eyes meeting, breath quickening… 

You shake the memory from your brain, coming back to reality just as you both had snapped out of it in the moment four years ago, scattering to finish cleaning up and avoiding eye contact the rest of the night. You always dismissed the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours, blaming the exhaustion from working a closing shift after being up all night studying. He had a girlfriend at the time, he wouldn’t have been interested in you that way anyway. He’s your friend, y/n, be realistic. You’re reaching. You send another quick text before getting dressed, and he of course responds right away. 

y/n: i missed you too, i’m sorry i should’ve texted. it’s been a shitty 24 hours. i’ll see you soon 

yunho: no need to apologize. i’ll be there, see you in a bit. 

25 minutes pass and you somehow manage to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You dried your hair and pulled half of it up in a claw clip, leaving some pieces out to frame your face. You threw on some concealer and a bit of blush, trying to hide how puffy your eyes still were. It was a chilly fall night, so you opted for your favorite pair of light wash jeans and an oversized black sweater, accompanied by your beat up black chelsea boots and your gray wool coat. 

After a quick 5 minute walk you round the corner to see Yunho standing in front of the cafe, his back facing you. Of course he’s right on time. His broad shoulders fill out the black jacket he’s wearing, his crossbody bag tucked under his arm. The neon sign in the cafe window leaves a purple hue reflecting off his freshly dyed dark gray hair. He turns his head at a car passing by, and you catch yourself smiling at the lost puppy look in his eyes. He must’ve seen you approaching in his peripheral, his head snapping in your direction. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he locks eyes with you. His warm brown eyes are full of an emotion you can’t quite name. 

Your chest aches at the realization that your ex, in the two years you were together, never looked at you like that. Why did you ever think you were important to him? Your throat suddenly tightens and your vision starts to blur, tears welling in your eyes for the millionth time today. Yunho’s smile drops, his brow furrowing as he takes two long strides to meet you. 

“Y/n, what is it, what happened?” He reaches for your shoulders to hold you steady, but you push forward to bury your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other snakes around your shoulders. Your hands find his waist, gripping his shirt underneath his jacket. His familiar scent of jasmine envelops you, and you realize how badly you needed your best friend to help you through this.

”H-He dumped me,” you sniffle, letting out a shaky breath into Yunho’s chest, “he d-dumped me yesterday, through a fucking t-text message,”  another unsteady exhale as you try to level your breathing. 

“He did what?!” He pulls you in closer to him, the disbelief lacing his tone reassuring how rational your feelings are.

“It’s over,” you blink away your tears, tilting your head back to look up at your best friend. You’ve never seen the expression on his face before, like anger and worry are battling it out in his brain, and he can’t decide which one should take center stage first. “He texted me last night, saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it anymore’ and he ‘wished me the best,’” your mocking tone repeating his words reignited the angry flame in your chest. 

“Wished you the best,” he scoffs, “is he kidding?” He rolls his eyes.  “That’s how you end a two-year-long relationship?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking a half step back to give you some more space to catch your breath.  

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with someone who just kicked me to the curb without a second thought,” you pinch the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, your eyes lingering on his collarbone peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “I’m convinced he left me for a coworker, the one he told me not to worry about.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips, the burning feeling behind your eyes returning as more tears come. “I’m more upset with myself for letting him treat me like this for so long,”

“Hey, look at me,” Yunho cautiously brings his hands to your face, cradling your head gently. You lean into his touch, dragging your gaze up to meet his.

“He doesn’t know what he just threw away, sweetheart,” Yunho holds your teary cheeks in his hands. “You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen, and if he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You choke out between sniffles. 

“Oh y/n… of course I do. I always have,” he wipes a tear from your cheek before it reaches your lips, “since the day I met you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission, your chin wobbling as you try to hold it together. 

His eyes search yours, that unspoken emotion taking over his features again. You almost catch the moment he shakes it away, reminding himself that he’s here to support you. His hands fall from your cheeks to grab your hands instead, that familiar electricity prickling your skin as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Do you wanna go inside? I called ahead and ordered you a maple latte and a raspberry scone as soon as I got your text.” He tilts his head in the direction of the cafe next to you. 

You look inside to see two to-go cups and a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. “And an iced caramel latte for you, I’m assuming,” you poke his stomach teasingly, “thank you, Yun, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” he gently squeezes your hands, a warm smile taking over his features. “Come on, it seems like we have a lot to catch up on. I have a feeling you have a lot to get off your chest.” He lets go of one hand, keeping hold of the other to walk you to the door. You lace your fingers through his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You’d spent the last hour sitting in your favorite booth with Yunho, hashing through every single thing you hated about your ex. He was appalled by the things you’d told him, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve tried to help you see you deserve someone better. Someone who valued your emotions, understood your needs, respected your boundaries… Someone like — 

“Yunho, are you with me?” Your voice shakes him out of his daze, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Sorry bean, I just can’t believe he was such an asshole behind closed doors,” he recovers, “I wish you told me sooner. I feel like I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

”It’s not your fault, I could’ve told you and I didn’t. I think I was in denial,” you scoff. ”I was settling and I knew it, I was just trying to pretend things were better, but I think I’d been checked out for a while.” You swirl your coffee around in your cup, avoiding the concerned look in his eye. If you looked at him too long, you’d risk reading something deeper in the way he cares about you, something that made your heart flutter and ache all at once.

”Y/n, do you remember the girl I was dating when we met?” His tone shifts, a slight vulnerability creeping in. You stop moving your cup, watching the drink settle. You nod hesitantly, still avoiding his eyes. 

Of course you remember her. You had developed a crush on Yunho in your first week working together, but you had to smother it at the first mention of her. Any hope you had left for a chance with him disintegrated the first time you saw her — she was the kind of beautiful you only saw on TV. Flawless skin, no split ends, a perfectly sculpted body. Even her voice was smooth. She seemed perfect for him. 

“She cheated on me.” 

Your head snaps up to him in disbelief. “Excuse me?” 

You remember him telling you they broke up in passing — it had been a month after you started a relationship of your own. Part of you always wondered if you had just missed your window to pursue something with Yunho, but you pushed that thought out of your head so you could be present for your best friend. He didn’t want to go into detail about the breakup at the time, and he never did in the two years that followed. 

“For the last six months of our relationship, she’d been sleeping with someone she reconnected with from high school. They realized they loved each other, and she ended things.” He offers a sad smile, but the bitterness lingers beneath the surface. You feel a tightness in your chest wondering why he didn’t want to share his pain with you while all of this was going on.  

”Oh, Yunnie,” you reach for his hand across the table, holding his large palm in yours. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how anyone could ever do that to you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe we can call it even?” He lets out a breathy laugh, ignoring your question. “You didn’t tell me your relationship troubles, I didn’t tell you mine. Now it’s all on the table and we can leave it in the past.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your response. 

“Fine.” You flash a tight lipped smile, wanting to hash this open again with him at a later time. You didn’t keep secrets from each other, so why was he avoiding getting into this with you? 

“Well, it’s almost closing time.” Of course he’s gonna change the subject. “Do you need a night alone or are you coming home with me tonight?” He forces a smile from across the table, and you could’ve sworn his ears turned the slightest bit red asking you to spend the night. Sleepovers weren’t out of the norm for the two of you, but this proposal felt different for some reason. 

“I think if I’m alone at my place tonight I’ll revert to the sad couch potato I was before I texted you earlier.” You don’t really believe that, feeling like you’ve moved past the depression stage of grief and slowly inching toward acceptance. But you still wanted the company. 

“I’d love to come home with you, Yunnie.”

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your neighborhood was so beautiful at night. The soft streetlights cast a gentle glow on the sidewalk, illuminating little puddles of water from last night’s rain. The fall air feels cool and crisp, carrying the faint smell of the changing leaves. This late at night, the stillness is calming… usually. 

You two had found this to be the perfect environment to have your deepest talks. Taking regular nighttime walks with Yunho had become one of your cherished rituals, especially when one of you needed to get something off your chest. You’d shared fragments of your lives, from your family drama to his frequent arguments with a stubborn coworker at his new job. But tonight, a suffocating silence swirls around you. 

You’d taken a full lap around the neighborhood in silence since leaving Blossom, the familiar path devoid of your usual chatter. As you approach Yunho’s place, his brisk pace and hands shoved deep in his pockets told you he wasn’t going to be the one to acknowledge it. He was never one for confrontation. If he wouldn’t tell you what’s going on voluntarily, you’d have to coax it out of him.   

You stop walking, the cool air feeling sharper on your skin. He takes three more strides before he stops too, spinning back around to face you, confusion etched on his devastatingly handsome features.

“You okay, bean?” he asks, tilting his head at you, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. 

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing,” you reply, barely above a whisper. Maybe you weren’t one for confrontation either. 

He takes a step closer to you, “I’m fine,” he says with a quick shrug and a slight shake of his head. 

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we left Blossom? Did I say something to upset you?” You try your hardest to grab your frustration before it bubbles up, but you can already tell it’s too late. His dismissive tone, both here and at the cafe, gnaws at you. It triggers something inside of you from your recently ended relationship, and you feel on the verge of either shutting down or letting your emotions spiral.  

“I just thought you might want a quiet walk is all.” He can barely look you in the eye, and that’s when you know something is very wrong. 

“Come on Yun, you know that’s not what’s going on. Something is bothering you.” The frustration claws higher and higher, an unwelcome tightness gripping at your chest. Don’t cry, y/n.

He opens his mouth, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but stops himself, his hands finally pulling from his pockets to rest on his hips. He stares at a fallen leaf swirling in a puddle between you. 

“Is it because we talked about your ex?” He winces just a little at your words. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, I just thought after everything we’ve shared with each other that you’d want to talk to me about it.” You don’t mean for your words to sound accusatory, but based on the way his body tenses, you realize they must have. 

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not about…” his voice trails off into a sigh. His eyes search yours, his mind racing trying to decide if he wants to get into what’s really going on, what he’s been keeping inside for so long. 

“Then what is it?” You’re grasping at straws, desperately trying to get him to give you anything to go off of. When you’re met with more silence and an indiscernible look in his eyes, you push forward.

“I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me she cheated on you Yun, we help each other through everything.” Anger wells up in you, more at yourself for not asking him to open up to you about it at the time. 

“Y/n, please, it’s more complicated than just her cheating, and I just don’t know if now is the best time to get into it, you’re still—”

“Still what, Yunho? Grieving my own relationship? Just because I just got dumped doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you!” Your voice rises, each word sharp, the tension in your throat threatening to break. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, that’s not up to you—”

“Fine,” he interrupts, “do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you, y/n? Is that what you want?” His ears redden, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, embarrassed, or a combination of the two. You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t tell you she cheated because I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, but neither was mine.” His chest heaves, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a brief moment to brace himself. 

“I didn’t care that she cheated, because I didn’t want her anyway.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I wanted you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

His eyes burn into yours as his words hang in the air between the two of you. 

“Yunho…” You take a step toward him only for him to take a step back. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it. What is happening right now?

“I’m sorry y/n, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’ve held it in for so long, and I just can’t do it anymore, I—” He stutters over his words, “I wasn’t grieving my relationship, I was grieving yours. You found someone just before she ended things with me, and I realized maybe you and I weren’t meant to be. That we’d never have the chance to try.” His eyes gloss over with pent up emotion, thinking about all the time he spent wondering what could’ve been. “I wanted you, but I had to act like I didn’t, and we were becoming such good friends, I didn’t want to ruin it, I just—” 

”Did you think I didn’t feel the same?” You interrupt him. “That I don’t feel the same now?” 

He tilts his head at you, the tension in his body visibly disintegrating. “What are you saying?” Brows furrowing, cheeks blushing, so many emotions flying through his features at a speed neither of you can process. He runs his hands down his face before resting them on his hips. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?” 

“I wanted you, too, Yun…” The words tumble out of you, a rush of honesty that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. “I want you too.”

He takes another step toward you, his mind racing as he searches for answers to never ending questions. “You did?” Another step. “You do?” 

“Yes, and yes,” you nod, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your admission—both to Yunho and to you. You realize you’d never said it out loud before, not even to yourself. 

“Say it again,” he urges, closing the gap between the two of you. One hand finds your waist while the other gently cradles the back of your neck. His touch lights a fire on your skin, his hands feeling heavier on your body than they ever have before. Your hands find their way to his waist, tugging him closer to you. Chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I want you, Yunho.”  

The tension between you peaks, your grip tightening on one another, like if either one of you lets go, the moment will slip away. Yunho’s eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. 

He gently cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting the familiar spark that had always lingered between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the fear of moving too fast and the undeniable pull you have always felt towards him. 

You bring a hand up to his cheek, your fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You linger for a moment before wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, “sweetheart,”  his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear you can hear your hearts beating in time with one another in the quiet. 

You take a deep breath, searching his gaze for the same spark of desire you feel coursing through your body. He inches closer, breath mingling with yours, heating the space between you.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice trembling slightly. 

You nod, breathless, as you lean in just enough to finally close the distance between the two of you. 

The tip of his nose brushes against yours, the contact making your head spin. You’ve thought about this moment countless times, and being here feels so right.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “please kiss me alr—“

His mouth molds to yours before you can finish your sentence, pulling all the remaining air from your lungs. The world around you explodes in a flash of warmth and tenderness, all the hurt you had been feeling melting away into a puddle at your feet.

You feel a rush of emotions— relief, joy, and a deep, intoxicating desire— as he deepens the kiss. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips on yours erasing everything else you’ve ever felt. 

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you as if you might disappear. This moment, this kiss, feels like a declaration— a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden glances, the years of longing between the two of you. It’s exhilarating.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths the only sounds on the quiet street. Your hands slide from his neck, traveling down his chest before settling on his waist. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’ve just been waiting a really long time to do that.” He drops a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

“You can cut me off anytime if it means I get to kiss you,” you nuzzle into his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat slows yours to match. 

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Yes, abso—“

His lips connect to yours again, a fire igniting in your belly when his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like caramel, the sweetness of his latte lingering on his tongue. Wide hands wrap around your hips, dragging you closer, rolling your body into him. 

You snake your hands up his lower back, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. A low groan rumbles deep in Yunho’s throat at the sensation, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. A whimper crawls up your throat before you can stop it, and Yunho smiles against your mouth. He draws your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. 

“Your lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be,” he gives you one more lingering kiss before pulling back. His deep eyes find yours, his blushed cheeks glowing under the streetlights. 

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” Shyness creeps in at the realization that Yunho thought about you in the same way you thought about him. 

“Among other things, yes,” he brushes your hair out of your face, his palm settling to cup your cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

“I am not blushing!” You hide your face in your hands. “Maybe I am, but how can I not when you talk to me like that,” you muffle into your palms. 

“I’ll talk to you any way you want if it means you’ll react like this,” he teases, gently pulling your hands from your face to hold them in his. “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart,” he brings your hands to his mouth, holding them between his and blowing his hot breath onto them to warm them up.

”Well we have been out here a while,” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin. 

“Am I still allowed to take you home tonight, or would that complicate things?” He’s either nervous, or hesitant. Either would make sense, you just got dumped and 24 hours later you’re confessing your feelings for your best friend (and kissing him). Anyone with a brain might wonder if you’re rushing, or worse, rebounding. Once you get out of this cold, you can talk things through. 

“Yes, please, let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles before pulling him in the direction of his place.

“You got it, baby.” He slings an arm over your shoulder, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart flutters as you walk toward his apartment. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As soon as you walk through Yunho’s front door, he breezes past you to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite rosé while you kick off your boots. As you shed your jacket, he sets two full glasses on his simple wooden coffee table, heading back to his kitchen to grab a bag of chips and some chocolates. He returns with his hands full, confusion lacing his features when he finds you standing in the middle of his living room stifling a laugh. 

“Is something funny?” He chuckles at your reddening cheeks as you let out a giggle. 

“When did you get so nervous to have me in your apartment?” Part of you feels bad for teasing, but he looks so cute when he’s flustered, you can’t help it. “I’ve never seen you move so fast to get me a glass of wine.” 

“Well, when you decide to tell me you want me in the middle of the street, that tends to change things, baby,” he grins at you, clocking you for the second time now having a physical reaction to his newest pet name for you. You thought sweetheart sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth, but baby is a whole new level of intoxicating.

”You said it first, but I guess that does change things, huh, baby?” You cross your arms, challenging him. “Do I make you nervous, Jeong Yunho?” 

“You make me a lot of things, sweetheart, but nervous isn’t one of them.” He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the gesture making your head spin. After setting your snacks down on the coffee table, he finally takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He plops down on his couch, patting the empty cushion next to him. “Come sit with me,” the deep, inviting tone of his voice has you moving to him immediately. Grabbing your wine, you sit next to him, folding one leg up onto the couch to turn to face him. He copies your position, his knee resting just an inch from yours. 

“What do I make you feel, then?” You swirl your wine in your glass as your gaze flicks over his handsome features. Landing on his eyes, your heart jumps at the way they shine for you. 

“Fulfilled,” he starts, scooting closer to you so your knees are just barely touching. “Cared for, understood,” the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, “and loved.” 

A bloom of warmth floods your chest at the word. This is what you’ve been missing the last few years. You thought your ex would give you this sense of gratification if you gave him more time, but what you were searching for was in your best friend. You always knew in the back of your mind that it was him. The one who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drop everything to be there when you needed him. You take a big sip of your wine. 

“I was settling,” the words fall off your lips before you can stop them, the alcohol warming your cheeks right away. “I thought that if I kept giving him everything he would eventually give me half of what I was craving, but in the back of my mind I think I knew he’d never be what I really needed… I settled for him.” 

Yunho offers a soft nod, zero judgment, only understanding. “And what is it you were craving?” He moves even closer to you, your shins now pressed together. 

“You,” you sigh, his deep eyes boring into yours, waiting for more. You tap your fingers on your wine glass, contemplating your next words. “The connection, the comfort, the joy, the love that you gave me,” your throat tightens thinking about the nights you spent longing for your best friend. “I wanted you, how you made me feel…but I settled for him.” 

“Right person, wrong time,” Yunho scoffs, a gentle shake of his head, “kind of applies to us, right? We’ve wanted each other for years now, but we just never had the chance.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, Yun,” your hand rests on his, his fingers immediately lacing between yours. “We’ve wasted so much time,” hot tears blur your vision, but you blink them away before they fall.

“Hey, we have all the time in the world, baby,” he brings your hand to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “All the time in the world,” he muffles against your skin. You turn your palm to hold his cheek, and you notice his eyes roll back before they flutter closed.

“All the time in the world,” you repeat, threading your fingers into his hair. A future with Yunho flashes through your mind. Lazy Sunday mornings, celebrating milestones and holidays together, late nights tangled in the sheets, his body taking over yours — 

“Y/n…” His deep, smooth voice brings you back to the moment, the sound of your name on his lips heating your cheeks. 

“Hm?” 

He gently takes your wine glass from your hand, setting it on the coffee table next to his untouched one. When his eyes find yours again, warmth pools in your belly at the darkness that’s taken over his features. “I really want to kiss you again, but I feel like we should talk first,” he takes both your hands in his, and your heart pounds a beat faster in your chest. “If you spend the night tonight, there’s no going back. Once I have you, I don’t think I can let you go.” 

“I don’t want you to let me go, Yun,” you squeeze his hands in yours. “I’ve waited too long to get here, I don’t wanna go back… You already have me, don’t let me go.” The thudding in your rib cage intensifies with every second of heated silence.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” he finally says, pulling you in, crashing his lips into yours. His hands find your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. You straddle him, resting your knees on either side of his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands wander to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. You roll your hips against him, his grip tightening on you as he drags your body over him. A groan rumbles in his chest and you feel his cock stiffening beneath you, grinding on him slower and harder. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” Yuhho’s hand snakes up your back and into your hair, gently removing your clip and tossing it to the floor before gripping your locks and tilting your head to the side, exposing the sensitive column of your neck to his mouth. He nips at your skin, licking the spot with his tongue, moving up to the tender spot under your ear. “My beautiful girl,” his hot breath in your ear has your entire body blooming with goosebumps.

”Yunho,” you roll your hips over him again as his lips travel down your neck to your collarbone, a whimper crawling up your throat at your rough jeans catching on your swelling clit. He feels harder and harder underneath you with each rock against him, and you’re cursing yourself for wearing such thick pants. You just want to feel him. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He tightens his grip on your hair, kissing back up your neck until his lips connect with yours again. You moan into his mouth as his other hand guides your hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding your bodies against each other like horny teenagers. 

“Touch me please,” you beg, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he teases. He snakes an arm around your waist and smoothly rolls you onto your back, laying you down in the soft cushions. He kneels, settling between your legs, spreading them wide to roll his hips into your needy clothed core. His mouth finds yours again, tangling his tongue with yours.

The hand in your hair loosens, trailing down your body, ghosting over your breasts, down your belly, and lifting your sweater slightly to get to your jeans. He makes light work of the button and zipper, his nimble fingers undoing the fastenings with ease, all while keeping his mouth on yours. You feel him tapping on your ass, signaling you to lift your hips. When you do, he shimmies your jeans down your legs agonizingly slowly, breaking the kiss to admire the bits of your skin he’s dreamt about for years. 

He tosses your jeans on his living room floor, and a timidity slithers up at the realization that you’re in your underwear on your best friend’s couch.  His broad hands rest on your thighs, letting you close them slightly, your shared shuddering breaths the only sound in his quiet apartment. 

“Getting shy on me, sweetheart?” He teases you, reading your mind. He knows you so well. You giggle as he slides his hands to your sweater, dragging it up your body, exposing your panties, shifting it higher and higher until the bottom hem of your bra is barely showing. He slides his hands under your top, expertly cradling your bra-clad breasts in his hands, letting out a restrained groan. The energy shifts and you whimper, watching his eyes locked on the way his fingers swim beneath the fabric of your sweater. You let your legs fall open slightly as Yunho slots himself between them, peppering your belly with gentle kisses and thumbing one of your pebbling nipples through the thin material of your bra. 

“Yun…” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he kisses you lower and lower, “please,” 

“Mhm,” he nods against your soft skin, shifting down to lay on his belly between your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. You feel his searing breath over your pussy, cooling the growing wet patch in your panties, making you clench around nothing. He picks up on your reaction, gripping your hips before blowing a steady stream of air over your sensitive heat. 

“Oh,” you breathe, wriggling under his strong grasp, spreading your legs wider for him. 

“You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, biting down on your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. You yelp at the sensation, covering your mouth in shock of the sound that just came out of you. Yunho chuckles darkly, “don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear all the noises you make.” 

He hooks an arm over your hip so his hand rests on your mound. He grips your panties in his fist, pulling them up until the fabric slips between your wet folds, gliding firmly over your clit. You stifle a sob as he tugs them harder, biting you once more. 

“I thought I told you not to hold back, sweetheart,” he licks your skin again, soothing the angry bite mark that will surely be bruised by morning. Another tug of your panties has you mewling, one hand gripping his hair for dear life, the other blindly searching for anything to ground you. 

“Yunnie, please, stop teasing me,” you never thought your sweet and wholesome best friend could have you whimpering and begging beneath him, hardly having touched you. He has such a dark, dominating presence about him in this moment, and it’s making your head fuzzy. 

He lets go of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side, exposing your wet heat to the cool air. You suck in a sharp inhale, finally bare to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, “look at you, baby,” he runs two fingers through your heat, the sudden contact making you cry out. He spreads you wide to see every inch of you, taking his time. “So pretty,” he breathes. 

“I need you, please,” you whine, “are you gonna make me keep begging?” 

“Baby, I’ve wanted to touch you like this for years,” he drawls, “let me savor it a little.” Before you can protest, he teases your entrance with two fingers, slowly thrusting them deeper and deeper inside you, little by little, until his palm is flush with your cunt. Your head falls back into the cushions, your chest heaving. You had daydreamed about how his fingers would feel inside of you, but nothing compares to the real thing. He pumps in and out a few more times before he curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your back arch. You grip his hair, tugging on it harder than you mean to, but you can’t help it. You miss the way his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open at the pain. 

Yunho lets you guide his mouth to your core, his fingers keeping a steady pace as he uses his free hand to spread you open, swirling his tongue around your clit. 

“Yunnie…” you whimper, grinding your hips on his mouth. He nods against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen bud over and over in time with his fingers moving in and out of you. Pleasure blooms in your belly as he works you, each flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” He replaces his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit softly to ease you into the sensation. You push yourself down into his hand, needing more. He chuckles, applying more pressure until he feels you melting under him.

“Yes, so good Yun, fuck,” the pressure low in your belly builds rapidly, and you know if he keeps going at this pace, you’ll fall apart in no time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and once your eyes lock with his you know you’re a goner. 

His hair is mussed from your tugging on it, his cheeks flushed, his mouth glistening, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. He smirks at you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so he can kneel between them again, sitting back to get a good look at you, never slowing his ministrations. You make the mistake of glancing down, your mouth drying at the sight of his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He hits that spot deep inside you again, and you fall back into the cushions, breathy curses falling from your mouth over and over. 

“You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell,” he drops his free hand next to your head, caging you in beneath him, watching his fingers pistoning in and out of you faster and faster, circling your clit in a matching pace. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats over and over, like he can’t believe this is finally happening. He brings his lips to yours, mumbling the words against your mouth as you nod wordlessly in agreement, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy. He kisses you down to your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin, praise after praise whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, and you cry out at the sensation. 

“I’m yours, I’m yours— fuck!” You feel the cord in your belly tightening and tightening. 

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, “come around my fingers, baby,” 

“Oh, oh,” you shudder underneath him, his words pushing you over the edge as your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure burning from the inside out. He kisses you hard, slowing his pace bit by bit to ease you through your climax, your body trembling in his hold. “Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth, “I’m yours,” you whisper.

“You sure are,” he peppers your cheeks with soft, tender kisses, your brain slowly coming back online as he slows his fingers, coming to a stop. “And I’m yours,” he kisses you gently, easing his fingers out of you, slipping your panties back into place. He lays down on the couch next to you, pulling your favorite throw blanket over your exposed bottom half, tracing hearts and stars on your skin while your breathing steadies, running his fingers through your hair as you let your eyes flutter closed. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body keeping the flame in your core burning. 

“You are incredible, Jeong Yunho,” you giggle as he kisses every inch of your face, his soft lips mapping the details of your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Why, because I made you come in 5 minutes flat?” His low drawl has desire coursing through your veins, part of you feeling embarrassed he can turn you on so easily with just his words. 

Your breath hitches as you nod, trying to keep your cool, but he knows you better than that by now. “You really like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, baby?” 

“Apparently I do,” you turn to look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your belly. “I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” you tease. 

“Well for starters, I want to take you to bed” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear, the combination of his hot breath fanning over your skin and the vibrations of his deep voice have lust taking over your thoughts once again. “I want to fuck you properly, and we just don’t exactly have the space for that here,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh,” you giggle, his straightforwardness taking you by surprise. Just like that you’re throbbing for him again, your mind racing thinking about where your night with him is going to go. “I’d like that.”

Before he can catch you, you jump up from the couch, leaving your throw blanket behind, beelining for the hallway toward Yunho’s bedroom, giggling the whole way.

“Hey!” He laughs, clamoring up to chase after you. A few long strides and he’s caught up to you, right in the doorway of his bedroom. He hooks an arm around your waist and you yelp as he spins you around to face him, the momentum of both your running carrying you to the foot of his bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, but he holds you upright, pressing your body against his. Your eyes lock, both of you breathing heavily.

“Someone’s excited,” Yunho chuckles, giving you a firm kiss before pushing you back onto his bed. You let out a breathless laugh as you plop down on the mattress, pushing yourself to sit upright.  

“A little,” your hands find his torso, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smirks down at you as you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach to chest. He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hands on him, and pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor. You’d seen him without a shirt a handful of times, but this close he looks ethereal. Your fingers dance across his bare skin, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this. You want to see more of him, touch more of him, taste more of him. 

“Yun,” you start, hesitant to take the lead. You slide your hands down his body until your fingers feel the smooth leather of his belt. Your eyes meet his, not breaking contact while you smoothly undo his belt buckle. “Can I?” You whisper. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, y/n,” he breathes, looking down to where your fingers are undoing the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. You pull his jeans down, and he kicks them to the side, standing before you in only his boxers, his hard length pressing against the confines of the fabric.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping it gently to tip your head back. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly pull your sweater over your head, letting him let go of your hair to take it from your hands and toss it to the floor. You reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra, slowly sliding it from your body and dropping it next to your discarded sweater. Yunho’s chest heaves as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, drinking this image of you in, dragging his gaze across your exposed chest.

“So beautiful,” his voice has dropped even lower, a tone you’ve never heard from him, the deep timbre stoking the fire deep inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he cups your face in his hands, bending over to kiss you softly. He parts your lips with his tongue as you rest your hands on his abdomen, sliding one down to palm his cock over his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, your fingers wrapping around him as much as you can through the fabric, stroking his impressive length as he licks deeper into your mouth. You pump him from base to tip, running your thumb over the wet patch at the head of his cock, drawing another guttural moan from his lips. Your mouth is watering at the feeling of him, but it’s not enough. 

You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and Yunho breaks the kiss to watch you pull them slowly down, down, down, until his cock springs free, hanging heavy in front of you. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight of him, feeling the wetness in your panties growing. Lust prickles across your skin thinking about feeling him inside of you. 

“Yunho,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around him, pumping him slowly as he stands up straight, tugging your hair in his fist to tip your head back again. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you whine, “please,” 

“Oh, baby,” he grips your hair tighter at your words while you stroke him, the sting making your cheeks warm, “you want me to stuff your pretty little mouth? Wanna wrap those beautiful lips around me?” Towering over you like this, you start to realize just how much he could overpower you, and the thought spreads heat through your abdomen. 

“Please,” you nod, “I wanna taste you,” you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. You pump his length twice more as you guide his hips toward your mouth, dropping your hands into your lap as his tip rests on your tongue. 

“Mmh, so pretty,” he whispers, wrapping his fist around his cock, tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding past your lips. “If it gets to be too much, just tap my thigh, okay sweetheart?” 

You nod, wrapping your lips around him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. His head falls back, a beautiful moan falling from his lips as you slowly start to bob your head. You take more of him, inch by inch until his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and he absentmindedly thrusts deeper, chasing the sensation. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening again as he holds you there. “I’m gonna move now, is that okay?” He brings his free hand to your cheek, caressing it gently as you nod in confirmation. As soon as you give him the signal, he pulls back slightly, rocking his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him and your tongue gliding over him. “So beautiful with your mouth stuffed so  full,” he praises you, thrusting deeper into your mouth, down your throat, testing the limits of what you can take. He finds a steady rhythm, and you match his pace, bobbing your head and licking over every inch of him as he pumps in and out of your mouth, the stretch burning your throat deliciously.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, tears blurring your vision as you admire his lustful features. His furrowed brow, his blown pupils, his flushed cheeks. The bead of sweat dripping down the tip of his nose, the tensing muscles in his stomach as he pumps into your mouth… he looks so beautiful. You find yourself rocking your hips, grinding into the mattress, looking for any friction you can get.

He thrusts deep into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat again, and he holds you down on him, your nose brushing over his abdomen. The lack of air makes your head spin, and you want him even deeper. You reach up to grab his hips, but your hand bumps his thigh on the way up, which he takes as your signal that it’s too much. 

“Shit,” he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, was that too rough?” His eyes are full of panic and he brushes your hair out of your face, wiping the saliva that had bubbled up at the corners of your mouth. It all happens so fast, it takes you a moment to process the man waiting in front of you, waiting for a response. Before you can stop yourself, a smile breaks across your face and a giggle rises up your throat. 

“Yunnie,” you laugh, cradling his concerned face in your hands, “I’m fine, more than fine,” you try to catch your breath. “I was trying to…grab your hips to pull you closer, but I … bumped your leg by mistake,” his panicked face relaxes, a beautiful smile taking its place, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I do appreciate how quickly you stopped though,” you tease him, your breathing finally steady, “it’s nice to know my boundaries will be taken very seriously.” 

“You scared me!” He laughs, dropping his head in your lap. 

“It was an accident!” You laugh with him, brushing through his hair with your fingers. “I actually wanted you to be more rough with me,” 

He straightens up. “Is that so?” He plants his hands on the mattress on either side of your hips, the darkness returning to his gaze as he stands again, leaning over you. You lean back onto your elbows as he towers over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. 

“It is,” you whisper, suddenly feeling so small beneath him, all lightheartedness suddenly sucked out of the room. “I would enjoy that very much,” 

“Mmh,” he hooks an arm under your waist, lifting you easily and moving your body further up the mattress. You let out a small yelp as he drops you, heart warming as he reaches above you to grab a pillow to prop under your head. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, he hooks his fingers on your panties, and you lift your hips for him to peel them off of you. He tosses them to the floor, turning his attention back to you, spreading your legs wide open, kneeling between them.

“I would enjoy that too, however,” he runs his hands up your calves, your thighs, until he reaches your center, using both hands to spread you wide open. You watch in awe as he runs two fingers through your arousal, teasingly dipping them inside of you. “I want to savor every moment of this,” he dips down to kiss you softly as he drives his fingers even deeper, prodding that tender spot inside of you, drawing a whine from your lips. “Let me be gentle this time, let me show you how much I–” he pauses, something indiscernible flashing through his eyes. “Let me show you how much I’ve been wanting you,” he recovers. “Then next time,” his thumb flicks over your clit, “I will do whatever you want me to do to you,” he circles the sensitive bud, your mind reeling. “Does that sound good, baby?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “so good,” you whimper as he scissors his fingers inside of you, surely trying to stretch you open for what’s to come. 

He reaches for the drawer in his nightstand with his free hand, but you stop him. “You don’t have to wear one,” you interrupt.

“Are you sure?” His fingers keep moving inside of you, stretching you wider with each thrust, but still giving your conversation his attention.

“I’m on the pill and was tested recently, so yes, please Yunnie, I want to feel you,” you mewl, “please let me feel you,”  

“So good for me,” he praises you over and over, “are you ready?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, desperate for him. He lifts your hips, pulling you closer to him, nestling himself between your legs, being sure to adjust your pillow once more. He spreads you open with one hand, tapping the tip of his solid cock on your swollen clit before rubbing it up and down your slit, lining up with your entrance. You both freeze at the same time as the reality of what’s about to happen finally hits you.

The feeling of this moment is nothing you’ve experienced before. For years, you’ve longed for Yunho, wanting the intimacy of your friendship to go beyond just emotional intimacy. You’ve yearned for him as long as you’ve known him. You wanted him– all of him. Finally, the universe decided it’s time for you two to experience that. 

You realize he’s feeling it too, his hand finding your cheek in the silence, brushing away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “I know, baby,” he whispers, and that’s all you need to hear. 

He presses his lips to your forehead as he slowly pushes inside, easing you into the sensation, gently stretching you out on his cock. You feel grateful that he prepped you with his fingers, the sting you feel only lasting a few brief moments before he’s smoothly gliding into you. He pushes in deeper and deeper, until you’re filled to the brim. He drops his hands to the mattress on either side of your head as he bottoms out. Almost in unison, you both let out a shuddering exhale. 

“You feel incredible, fuck” he breathes against your forehead, finally pulling back to look into your eyes, your bodies finally connected physically in the way they’ve felt connected spiritually all these years. “And you look so pretty, my angel,” he whispers, his eyes shining. 

“I don’t know how you can still manage to make me blush when you’re literally inside of me,” you pant, shyly giggling as your cheeks warm under his loving gaze. He hisses at the way you squeeze around him when you laugh. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. 

“I’m learning so much about you today,” he pulls hips back slightly before burying himself inside you again, all teasing coming to an instant halt as the tip of his cock presses against your g-spot. 

“Oh my–” your back arches at the feeling, “God Yunnie, I feel so f-full.” 

“You’re doing so well baby,” he praises you again, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “Look at you, so beautiful taking my cock.” 

“I need you to fuck me,” you scramble to grip his forearms, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “Please,” you wriggle your hips beneath him, “move,” 

“Mm,” he pulls out almost completely, just the tip of his cock resting inside of you, “say it again, sweetheart,” 

“Fuck me Yunnie, please,” you beg, trying to push your hips down on his cock. 

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, I’ll never get tired of it” he slams into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out inside of you again. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you over and over, the feeling of him pumping in and out of you more delicious than you could’ve ever imagined. He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, swallowing all of your pretty little moans. 

He cups one of your breasts in his wide palm, running his thumb over your nipple, stoking the fire in the pit of your belly. He straightens, admiring how beautiful you look while you take him. Your lips red and puffy, your eyes half lidded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“So pretty, taking me so well,” he praises you as his hand coasts up your chest, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. He holds his hand there for a moment, making a mental note of the way your eyes light up when he briefly squeezes the column of your throat. 

“F-feels so g-good,” you choke out between thrusts. His thumb slides along your jaw toward your chin, prodding at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it briefly before he pops it out of your mouth, trailing it down your body until he reaches your clit. The contact has your head spinning, the cord in your center tightening and tightening as he flicks your sensitive bud. 

“Baby, look,” his voice cuts through the foggy lust in your head, grabbing your attention. He nods down to where your bodies are connected, gesturing for you to take a glance. 

One look at him splitting you open has your climax threatening to wash over you, warmth running up and down your spine at the sight of your arousal shining on his cock as he pistons in and out of your heat relentlessly. He swirls his thumb around your clit faster at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“You close, sweetheart?” He’s breathless as he fucks you, hitting so deep inside you that you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Mhm, fuck, yes,” you cry out, scrambling for his free hand, lacing your fingers between his. 

“Come on, I want to watch you fall apart around my cock.” He’s fucking you impossibly hard, each thrust hitting just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Let me feel you, love,” 

“Oh my god,” you stammer out a string of curses as your second orgasm washes over you, your heart thudding in your ears as your body tenses underneath him. He barely slows his pace, keeping his thumb resting on your clit, fucking you through your high. 

“There she is,” he coos, slowing little by little until your body starts to relax. He thrusts all the way inside, bottoming out, collapsing over you. 

“Wow,” you laugh, bringing your hands up to cradle his flushed face. “That was,” 

“Incredible?” He finishes your sentence, kissing your sweaty forehead over and over. You let out a soft moan in agreement, and his cock jumps inside of you at the sound. 

“Mmh,” you whimper, the warmth creeping back into your belly, and you squeeze around Yunho’s cock. 

“Wanting more already?” He teases, pushing his hips against you, thrusting himself in even deeper. 

“Absolutely,” you squeeze around him again, craning your neck up to capture his lips with yours. “Fuck me however you want, baby,” you whisper against his mouth. His cock twitches inside you again and you giggle, waiting for his next move. 

“Flip over,” he pants, “I wanna fuck you like this,” he slips out of you and you whine, feeling empty. He helps you roll onto your belly, kneeling behind you as he pulls your ass in the air and plants a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you to arch for him. You squish your cheek into the mattress, trying to look back at him. “Fucking hell,” he palms your ass with both hands, admiring your delectable form, “you are unreal.” 

“Yun, please, I need you,” you whine as he bends over your body, planting hot, wet kisses up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck, bringing his lips to your ear. You feel his cock bump against your backside, his body flush against yours.

“You are insatiable, my love,” your heart flutters at the word, but your lust pushes any overanalyzing to the back of your mind in favor of how desperate you are for him. 

You push back into him, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your heat. He straightens at the feeling, rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs as he watches you move. You roll your hips, catching the tip of his cock between your folds, wiggling and rocking to find the right angle before it finally slips inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as you push back, taking him deeper and deeper until your ass is flush against him. You start bouncing your hips, taking him in and out, slowly at first, the sounds of his moans filling your ears and soaking your center. 

“Feel good, baby?” You muffle from beneath him, moving your hips quicker with each bounce on his cock. You open your legs a little wider, the new angle rocking his cock against your g-spot. 

“The best thing I’ve ever felt,” he rolls his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the air of his bedroom. “I can’t believe how long we’ve waited for this,” he grips your hips, meeting your thrusts in earnest, fucking into you impossibly deep. You match each other’s pace immediately, moans and whines filling the air. 

He threads his fingers through your hair, tugging you upwards until your body is flush against his, your sweat-slicked bodies rocking together. His hand drops from your hair to wrap around your neck, holding you firmly in place as he threads his other hand between your legs, his middle and ring finger easily finding your swollen clit. 

“I want you like this forever,” he whispers in your ear as he drives into you, your motivation to bounce on him melting into the mattress beneath you. You want him to take you however he wants you, your body molding into his grip. 

“Forever,” you nod as he kisses your neck, “you have me forever Yunnie,” 

“Again,” he groans as you tighten around him, his fingers swirling around your clit, your third orgasm of the night building rapidly low in your belly. “Say it again,” 

“Forever,” you repeat, “I’m yours forever,” 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close,” he growls into your ear, “you take me so well, like you were made for me,” 

“I was, Yun,” you assure him, “I was made for you,” he rubs your clit faster, “and you were made for me,” 

“God, yes,” he kisses your shoulder, his pace faltering as he gets closer to the edge, “I love you, y/n, fuck.” His fingers swirl around your clit as his hips stutter, spilling hot and fast inside of you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats over and over as he ruts into you. 

“I love you, Yunho,” you cry out, your heart exploding as your orgasm follows, your body shuddering against him as you come together, your words and his swirling around you in the afterglow. 

He holds you tight against him, guiding your spent form back down to the mattress, kissing every inch of your skin as you both come down from your highs. He slips out of you, lowering your hips, massaging your sore muscles before rolling onto his back next to you. You mimic his position, flipping over so you’re both staring at the ceiling, processing the words you both just confessed. You lay together in silence, the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. You let your eyes close, processing the moment.

“Jeong Yunho,” your voice is hoarse once you speak. “Tell me you love me.” Your eyes flutter open, turning your head to see him already beaming at you. He rolls onto his side, bringing himself nose to nose with you. 

“I love you.” He declares, clear and confident, your heart swelling in your chest. His lips brush over yours, both of you smiling as he kisses you softly. “Your turn,” he whispers. You copy him, rolling onto your side, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead as he throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you,” you giggle, kissing him again. 

“One more time?” 

“I, love, you,” you emphasize each word with a gentle kiss on his lips, 

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he whispers. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

You whine in protest, but Yunho eventually gets you into the bathroom, running a hot shower for the both of you. You wash up together, hardly able to keep your hands off of each other. Once you’ve fallen apart in his hands twice more and the water’s run cold, he helps you into a pair of his boxers and his biggest, softest sweatshirt. 

“This feels like a dream,” you think out loud once you’re snuggled up in Yunho’s bed together. “Is this a dream?” 

“If it is, I never want to wake up,” he smiles at you under the dim street lights flooding through his windows. “This is all I need, forever.” 

You kiss him at that, soft and tender, his arms wrapping tighter around you, holding you close. You fall asleep shortly after, nose to nose, hearts full. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You wake to the morning sun shining through Yunho’s bedroom windows, the sweet smell of vanilla flooding your nose. Stretching your tired limbs, you roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods your mind at the sight, your past making you assume the worst. Is he sleeping on the couch? You wonder. Does he regret what he said and now he’s avoiding me? Before you can reason with yourself, you jump out of bed and speed walk down the hallway, stopping dead in your tracks when you reach the kitchen. 

“You’re not freaking out, are you y/n?” Yunho drawls, his voice still laced with sleep, low and raspy. He hasn’t even looked at you yet, his focus being on the plate on the counter in front of him, but he already knows where your mind is at just by the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. Of course he does. His bare, wide shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin as he throws the final touches on what’s in front of him. He spins around to face you holding a plate of pancakes, littered with strawberries cut into hearts. Your heart flutters at the scene in front of you. “You think I’m gonna make love to you, tell you that I love you, and not make you breakfast in the morning?” 

Suddenly feeling self conscious over your immediate assumption that he regretted your night together, you cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “I got scared,” you whisper. 

“That I left you in my apartment all alone? Baby,” he puts the plate down, “I would never, especially after last night,” he crosses the kitchen to reach you, pulling you into his warm embrace, his hot skin beneath you melting away the coldness you felt from waking up alone. “I’m not like…him,” he reminds you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You are safe with me. Safe, loved, protected, respected, I could go on and on. Do you understand me?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod against his chest. “I do,” you feel a tear slide down your cheek, spreading from your skin, onto his. He squeezes you in a tight hug. 

“Come on, let’s get some food in your system. You haven’t eaten since our pastries at Blossom last night,” he releases you to grab your plate, as well as a second he made for himself, and drops another quick kiss to your forehead before carrying them to the coffee table in his living room. 

“Come sit,” he beckons you, and you follow automatically, plopping on the couch. He grabs your favorite throw blanket before sitting down next to you, draping it over both of your laps. No matter how hard you try to ignore them, negative thoughts are still plaguing your mind. You both pick up your plates, eating in silence for a few moments before Yunho speaks up again. 

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” His tone is so sincere, you immediately feel guilty for making him worry. 

“I’m just–” you hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared it’s too good to be true.” 

“What is? Us?” Worry flickers across his features, his heart aching seeing you so distraught. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, poking at one of your pancakes with your fork. You know you’re being unreasonable, and that Yunho has shown you nothing but love and commitment as long as you’ve known him. But your self doubt and your history of awful relationships is screaming at you that you don’t deserve him. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that you’re crying. 

Yunho gently takes your plate from your hands, putting both his and yours back on the coffee table. He shifts his body slowly until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your blanket-covered thighs.

“Y/n, look at me,” he pleads. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, patting the dampness into the blanket in your lap. You rest your hands on top of his, tracing the lines of his veins for a moment before dragging your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes are glazed over with tears of his own. 

“Yunnie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I–”

“Listen to me,” he interrupts. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The most precious thing in this world to me. Each moment that I spend with you fills me with a joy that I never experienced until I met you.” He turns his hands over to cradle yours as his tears finally fall down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you. And proving to you that you deserve the love that I give you.” 

You stifle a sob at his words, trying to take all of it in as the beautiful truth. You know he means it, he’s always meant every word he’s ever said to you, and you know you need to silence your anxieties in favor of what you know to be true. 

“It’s gonna take time,” you whisper. “It’ll take time for me to believe that I deserve what you give me,” you wipe your own tears, then his, both of you laughing breathlessly at your own emotions. “But I will get there,” you continue, “I just need you to be patient with me.” 

“Of course. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you what you deserve, sweetheart. That’s a promise.” 

“I love you.” You cradle his head in your hands, memorizing every inch of his face, savoring the first day of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go finish our breakfast in bed.” 

“Okay,” you giggle watching Yunho jump up to grab both your plates, giddily walking toward his bedroom with a wide smile on his face. 

“You coming?” He glances over his shoulder at you, his ears blushing bright red as he waits for you. 

You nod, hopping up to follow after him, to your new forever.

[cloudyyy1]

mean looking boyfriend wooyoung who's the biggest softie :(( his usual appearance is dark clothes, hella jewelry, and sharp eyes that'll make you rethink your life decisions. but with his sweetheart? an absolute lover boy. holding doors open for you? check. holding all of your bags when you go shopping? hes not letting his baby carry anything. letting you drive? nope, you get to sit and be his pretty passenger princess.

now... service top wooyo >>>> will do practically anything you want him to. you don't have to ask twice. he's very intimate with it too. absolutely loves to hold you close when you do it. he presses his body flush to yours so he can feel all of you against him as he makes you feel good. oh yea. heavy munch. takes any and every opportunity to eat you out. whether you're sitting, standing, laying down, working, cooking, cleaning, doesn't matter, he will find a way to persuade you into letting him eat you out.

[cloudyyy1]

my girl(s) | choi san

word count: 1.27k hehe

genre: fluff bro so much, slight childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, soon to be dad!san x pregnant!reader

warnings: san just worrying too much that he gets exhuasted

song playlist: my girl - the temptations, be my baby - the ronettes, la vie en rose - èdith piaf

author's note: seeing san get heated about how that one husband treats his wife made me think about how sweet and caring san would be in a relationship and then i started playing fifties's music and boom here where we are

choi san was just an absolute gentlemen, it was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much.

you vividly remember when you were younger, san declaring to the dinner table that his wife's hands will never be wet in the future, promising that he will be doing everything for her which impressed all the other neighborhood parents. a few parents joked at him to remember their daughters in the future which you rolled your eyes at. san was obviously bluffing and trying to impress everyone. you found it hard to believe that a man would be able to care so much for his wife like san said.

it was almost laughable how wrong child you was.

san quite literally did everything around the house, always insisting that you go lie down and relax even though he just came home from work. it was definitely a hassle trying to get your husband to relax let alone sit down after dinner since he was always insisting that he did the dishes even if he cooked.

"san, baby go shower," you whisper into his ear while he was doing the dishes, "let me do this. go relax."

instantly turning around in protest, san folds his arms in front of his chest, "no."

"san," you warn, the mother in your voice coming out.

"absolutely not." san protests, standing up even taller to tower over you, "you are my pregnant wife who needs to rest. i need my girls to rest."

"san, we don't even know the gender yet." you argue. it was only today that you found out you were pregnant after you realized that you were two weeks late and sped to the nearest drugstore for a test.

"i know but i think we're having a girl." san says knowing with smile on his face, he was just getting excited at the thought of having a baby girl. "still though, you should rest."

"san, i'm fine, you on the other hand should rest."

"but-"

"who has a eight hour shift at seven am tomorrow baby?"

"i do." san dejectedly answers with a pout on his face. san didn't hate his job as a martial arts instructor but if he had to choose between you and his job, he would choose you without a doubt over and over again.

"i promise when my belly grows you can pamper me all you want but not yet. you still need to take care of yourself before i'm unable to take care of myself."

"promise?" he asks as he intertwined his fingers with you.

"promise." you answer before sealing the deal with a kiss.

a few months later, when the baby bump began to show, san became even more protective of you.

finally on your maternity leave, you spent the time at home reading parenting books and knitting clothes for your baby making an assortment of colors. sometimes, you ventured down to the dojo that was connected to the house causing san to stop whatever he was doing and guide you down the stairs.

"yah! choi san!" you shout at your husband who completely abandoned his lesson to aid you, "i can walk down just fine! go back to teaching!"

"no!" he argues before turning back to his class to yell, "five minute water break!"

a collective "yes sir" was heard from the group as the students dispersed to the sidelines.

"san, i love you but i promise i'm fine!"

"i know, but i still worry over you my love." san confesses as he carefully holds your hand as you walk down.

"aigoo..."

closer to your date, you spent most of your days either in the dojo working at the front desk so that san could keep on you (more like you could keep an eye on him) or upstairs reading more parenting books and preparing the baby's room.

"how's the baby?" wooyoung asks, an old friend of san who occasionally stopped by the dojo to check up on you and take out san to relax.

"doing great! the doctors are saying the baby is healthy and don't see any problems or complications yet."

"ahhh, that's great to hear! how's san doing though? still stressing?"

"oh you bet he is." you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "taking him out for a drink tonight?"

"trying to but you know he doesn't like to leave your side."

another sign escapes your lips, it was possible that san was stressing you out by not being able to relax. "i'll convince him. he's been worrying too much."

"good luck with that one." wooyoung laughs.

"woo!" your husband shouts at his best friend coming out of the studio to the front with a towel in hand. "what brings you here?"

"just checking in your wife and the baby." wooyoung starts before flashing a quick glance at you, "but the boys and i are about to head down to the bar if you wanna grab a drink."

"ahhh, you know i would love to but," san says looking down at you with a smile. lately he's been running around the house trying to satisfy you're weird pregnancy cravings and help with the morning sickness all while still working full time down at the dojo. the stress and exhaustion was evident on your poor baby's face as the eye bags deepened and he wasn't his cheery self.

instead of returning the smile, you frown at him confusing san. "go sannie, i'll be fine."

"don't-"

"san, i will be okay." you laugh a little, trying to ease san's nerves, "i'll be down the street okay, baby? you deserve a break."

san looks back at wooyoung who looks eerily similar to the devil on his shoulder. "are you sure? what about dinner?"

"your mom dropped off some soup for us earlier, i can eat that. go out, have fun! you need to have some fun once in awhile baby."

"fine, but not too late." san complies while pointing a finger at wooyoung.

"i promise to bring him before eleven ma'am." wooyoung promises saluting to you before shooing san to go get changed.

"take care of him woo!"

the day of the pregnancy was absolutely terrifying yet exciting. it was the thrill of finally becoming parents that was the only thing keeping you sort of calm. your mind wandered every now and then to the idea of you being a bad mother but san was quick to shut down those thoughts.

you guys still didn't have any idea of what the gender was, deciding it would be fun to find out the day of. san was still confident that you guys were going to have a girl even though all the ajummas begged to differ with their superstitions.

"it's a girl!" the doctor exclaimed cuddling the newbown baby.

"i told you!" san shouts jumping into the air out of excitement before wrapping his arms tightly around you, his lips on your forehead. "thank you. thank you so much." tears of happiness flowed from san's eyes as he held you close, his warm embrace making you feel overwhelmed with his love.

"i love you so so much." san cried into your neck as he looked through blurry eyes at you cradling your daughter.

you couldn't even say anything too tired and overwhelmed to give a proper response. instead, you just cried with san holding the baby so close to your heart.

it felt refreshing? calming? something like that to be able to cry away your emotions. even the worries of becoming a mother washed away and instead hope and excitement for the future replaced the negative thoughts. you couldn't believe that you finally have a kid with the love of your life, not even just the love of your life but your best friend in the whole wide world.

god, you were so lucky to have a san in your life and he was just as lucky or even more to have you in his life. now, the both of you were fortunate to have a third in your new little family.

san let out a sniffle before planting a wet kiss to the crown of your head, "my girls."

[cloudyyy1]

HOME | PARK SEONGHWA [birthday special 🎉]

pairing : : park seonghwa x fem!reader

synopsis : : you and seonghwa have not seen each other for a long time. that is, until you surprise him on his birthday.

genre : : pure fluff

warnings : : none

word count : : 0.9k

author's note : : hwa birthday special fic! couldn't write one for yunho :( but I hope I don't miss any other member!

—The city lights outside Seonghwa’s apartment window flickered softly, mirroring the warmth building in his chest as he read through his birthday messages. His phone was buzzing nonstop—friends, family, fans, and of course, his members, who had sent a chaotic video of them singing an off-key birthday song. But none of it compared to the one message he had been waiting for.

Yours.

You had sent him a sleepy video earlier, voice hushed and sweet as you whispered, “happy birthday, love.” You had blown him a kiss at the end, and he had replayed it so many times that he could probably recite it by heart. But as much as he loved seeing you on screen, it wasn’t the same.

Long-distance was hard. He missed the feeling of you next to him, the way your arms wrapped around him whenever he was exhausted, the way you fit so perfectly against him. Video calls could only do so much when all he really wanted was you.

A sudden knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts. He frowned—maybe the guys had sent something? With a sigh, he pushed himself off the couch and padded toward the door.

When he opened it, his breath caught.

You stood there, bundled up in an oversized hoodie, a duffel bag slung over your shoulder, and that familiar, breathtaking smile on your lips. “Happy birthday, Hwa.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just blinked, trying to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. Then, before you could say anything else, you were in his arms.

His grip was almost desperate, arms wrapping around you so tightly that you squeaked a little. His hands moved over your back, up to your hair, down to your waist—like he needed to touch every part of you just to prove you were real.

“you’re really here,” he breathed, voice shaky against your shoulder.

You smiled, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. “I wanted to surprise you.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he scanned every inch of you like he had been starved of the sight. And then, finally, he kissed you.

Soft and slow at first, like he was savoring the moment. But then it deepened—months of longing pouring into the way his lips moved against yours. His hands tangled in your hair, fingers curling as he tilted your head to kiss you even deeper.

You melted into him, letting him pull you closer until there wasn’t a single space between your bodies.

When you finally broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face.

“Best. Birthday. Ever,” he whispered.

You grinned. “And it’s only getting started.”

Before he could ask what you meant, you pushed past him and flopped onto his couch, stretching with a satisfied sigh.

Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head as he walked over and practically collapsed on top of you.

Hwa! You’re heavy!” you giggled, trying to push him off.

“Too bad,” he mumbled against your shoulder, arms locking around you so you couldn’t escape. “I’m not letting go.”

You sighed in defeat, but your smile betrayed you. “I didn’t come all this way just to be crushed to death.”

He hummed, pressing tiny kisses to your neck, your jaw, your cheek—wherever he could reach. “Mmm. not my problem.”

You squirmed under him, giggling as he peppered your face with kisses. “Stop, that tickles!”

He finally relented, rolling onto his side so he could pull you fully into his arms. For a while, you just lay there, wrapped up in each other, breathing in the warmth and comfort neither of you had felt in months.

Then, just as Seonghwa was about to close his eyes, his phone started ringing.

He groaned, reaching over blindly to grab it from the coffee table. “What?” he answered flatly.

“Hyung! Happy birthday again! What are you doing?” San’s voice came through, suspiciously excited.

“Just... relaxing,” Seonghwa said, trying to sound casual.

Wooyoung’s voice suddenly chimed in. “You sound weird. Are you alone?”

You, who had been trying very hard to stay silent, let out a tiny snort of laughter.

“WAIT. WHO WAS THAT?!”

Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose as the chaos erupted on the other end.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Hyung has someone over,” Wooyoung practically shrieked. “TELL US WHO IT IS.”

“Is it Y/N?” San gasped dramatically. “DID SHE FLY OVER?!”

You grinned and grabbed the phone from Seonghwa. “Hi, guys.”

There was a beat of silence before a collective scream pierced through the phone.

Seonghwa groaned, burying his face in his hands while you laughed. The guys continued yelling excitedly, asking when you got there, how long you were staying, and, most importantly, why Seonghwa didn’t tell them.

“Because you guys are annoying,” he muttered, snatching the phone back. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Oh, you’re not getting rid of us that easily,” Wooyoung cackled. “We’re coming over—”

Seonghwa hung up. You burst into laughter as he threw his phone onto the couch. “You are never going to hear the end of this.”

He sighed dramatically before wrapping his arms around you again. “I really don’t care,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

The night was filled with laughter, takeout from his favorite place, and whispered conversations under the warm glow of his bedside lamp. You laid together, fingers tangled, sharing kisses between sleepy confessions of love.

And for the first time in months, Seonghwa fell asleep not with a phone pressed to his ear, but with you safely in his arms.

home.

© kysstar

[cloudyyy1]

WHERE IT HURTS | KIM HONGJOONG

pairing : : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis : : after a late-night argument, things go quiet between you and hongjoong. he thinks everything’s fine—but small changes say otherwise.

genre : : angst, hurt-comfort

warnings : : none.

word count : : 2.2k

—The clock’s red digits glared 1:37 AM, casting a dull glow over the apartment. The only sound was the faint hum of Hongjoong’s laptop fan and the clack of his keyboard. You stood in the doorway to his studio, arms crossed loosely, watching him with quiet concern. His shoulders were hunched, the tension in his back visible even from where you stood. His brows were pinched, lip caught between his teeth—he was deep in it again. Music, deadlines, concepts, endless revisions. The new comeback was eating him alive.

"Joong," you said softly, not wanting to startle him. He didn’t look up. “Did you eat anything today?”

Silence.

You stepped closer. “I made some rice earlier. There’s soup too, it’s still warm—”

“I said I’m busy.” His voice was sharp, quick, like a door slamming shut.

You flinched. “I know, I just… I thought you might want to take a break. Just ten minutes. You haven’t left that chair in hours—”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” he snapped, finally spinning around to face you. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression worn thin. “You think I don’t know how to take care of myself?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you said quietly.

“Then stop hovering. God, it’s like you think I’m helpless or something.”

You blinked. The words hit harder than they should’ve. “I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah? Well, help by leaving me alone.”

That one landed like a punch. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. You weren't good at fights—not the ugly kind, not when someone you loved looked at you like you were in the way. You felt yourself retreat, folding inward like paper crumpling under pressure.

You nodded once. “Okay.” Your voice was smaller than you'd meant it to be.

You walked out of the room without another word. Hongjoong didn’t look back.

You curled into your side of the bed, the sheets cool and unfamiliar without him. You stared at the wall for what felt like hours, trying not to let the sting of his words replay in your head, but it was impossible not to. You think I’m helpless. Help by leaving me alone. You didn’t cry—you just felt hollow, like something in you had been scooped out.

Eventually, without meaning to, sleep found you.

When Hongjoong stepped out of the studio, the apartment was dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made the back of his neck prickle. He rubbed his face, the pads of his fingers pressing hard against his eyes like it might squeeze the guilt out of his skull.

He hadn’t eaten. You’d been right. Of course you had. And now the untouched bowl of rice and soup sat cold on the counter, a silent reminder of how cruel he'd been. He hated how he heard his own voice replaying in his mind. He hated that it had been aimed at you.

The bedroom was dark except for the sliver of moonlight slicing through the blinds. You were already asleep, curled up small on your side of the bed, back to him. The blankets barely clung to your shoulder, and your breathing was soft, steady. You looked peaceful in the way that made his chest ache.

He climbed into bed carefully, like he didn’t want to disturb the stillness he didn’t deserve to be part of. Then he reached for you, gently, wrapping an arm around your waist. His fingers threaded over your stomach as he pulled you back against him. You didn’t stir. Not even a sigh.

He pressed his forehead to the nape of your neck and closed his eyes, letting the guilt wash over him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracked with something he wasn’t ready to name. “I didn’t mean it.”

—The soft morning light filtered through the blinds, painting gentle gold across the room. You stirred slowly, your body wrapped in warmth not entirely from the blankets. There was a weight draped over your waist—a familiar arm, heavy and secure. Your back was pressed against a chest you knew like second nature, the steady rhythm of his breathing grazing the curve of your shoulder.

You blinked at the faint light, taking a moment to register the calm. Then you shifted slightly, turning in his loose hold. Hongjoong lay beside you, eyes still shut, his features finally relaxed in sleep. The tension that had carved lines into his brow the night before had softened, replaced by a boyish stillness you hadn’t seen in days.

Instinct made your hand move, reaching to brush the hair from his face, but you caught yourself. Mid-motion, you stopped—fingers hovering just above his temple. The memory of his words from the night before came rushing back in. “Help by leaving me alone.” You let your hand fall quietly back to your side. You slipped out of bed without waking him.

The floor was cold under your feet as you padded to the bathroom. You didn’t look at yourself in the mirror too long—just enough to brush your hair and splash water on your face.

Then you moved to the kitchen in a quiet rhythm, pulling eggs from the fridge, rice from the cooker, setting pans on the stove. You weren’t even sure he’d eat. You just needed something to do. Something that made you feel a little less like your chest was filled with shattered glass.

The smell of breakfast slowly filled the apartment. You didn’t hum like you usually did. You didn’t peek down the hallway to see if he was up. You just kept moving, focused on not thinking too hard.

Footsteps finally broke the silence behind you. You didn’t turn around.

Hongjoong’s arms found your waist from behind, wrapping around you like nothing had happened. He leaned into you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder. “Hey,” he said, voice still rough from sleep.

You gave a quiet, almost automatic, “Morning.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just held you there, breathing you in.

Then: “About last night…” His voice dipped lower. “I’m sorry. I was a dick. I was tired, and frustrated, and I took it out on you when all you were trying to do was care for me.” His grip around your waist tightened a little, not enough to trap, just enough to cling. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You stayed quiet. Not out of malice—just because you didn’t know what to say. You accepted his words, but they didn’t undo the way they’d settled in your chest, heavy and echoing.

“I mean it,” he added, nuzzling into your neck gently. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s okay.”

He seemed to take that as enough. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you,” he murmured. Then another kiss, this time to your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You didn’t answer. You just turned the burner down and stirred the eggs, his arms still looped around your waist.

—The days after the apology fell into rhythm—routine, quiet, unspoken. Hongjoong thought things were okay. Not perfect, maybe, but better. You didn’t bring up the fight again. You didn’t ask for another apology. You cooked for him. You kissed him goodnight. You replied when he spoke, smiled when it felt expected.

But something subtle had shifted.

You didn’t lean into him when he hugged you anymore. You didn't brush his hair out of his face like you always used to. A half-second pause before holding his hand. A smile that didn’t reach your eyes. And he, so consumed by work and trying to make things smoother again, didn’t catch it right away.

It wasn’t that you were punishing him. You just… couldn’t shake the way he made you feel that night. Like loving him too much was a burden. Like your care was a nuisance. You’d swallowed it all down to keep the peace, but it hadn’t disappeared. It sat there, quietly, between your ribs.

At first, he thought it was stress. Maybe you were tired too. Maybe you just needed space. But the distance grew—not obvious, not loud, just enough. Enough to notice how you didn’t crawl into his lap while he worked anymore. How you stopped asking if he’d eaten. How your goodnight kisses landed on his cheek instead of his lips. Like you were slowly folding yourself away.

Hongjoong found you on the couch when he came home—curled up with your knees to your chest, a half-drunk cup of tea on the table, and the TV playing something you clearly weren’t watching. The sound was low, just enough to fill the silence. You looked over when he walked in, your eyes tired but your expression unreadable. You gave him a quiet smile—polite, soft, practiced.

"Hey," you said.

"Hey," he replied, but didn’t move right away. He stood there, still wearing his jacket, keys still in one hand, just staring. Something in the way you looked at him—something distant—hit him harder than he expected.

He didn’t go to the bedroom. He didn’t go to the kitchen. He walked straight to you, dropped to his knees in front of the couch, and reached for you like he wasn’t sure if he still had the right.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

You hesitated. Then, quietly, "Okay."

His hands found your legs, resting there gently, grounding himself. He looked up at you, the weight of days spent in silence finally cracking him open.

"I know I said sorry. I know I’ve been trying to make things feel normal again. But you haven’t been the same. And I think it’s because I haven’t really let you say how much it hurt."

You didn’t answer. You didn’t look away either.

"I can feel you pulling back from me. And I get it," he said, voice quiet but desperate. "I told you to leave me alone. I made you feel like you were smothering me. That your love was too much. And I hate that. I hate that the one person who was trying to take care of me... I pushed away like that."

Your eyes stung but you didn’t speak. He exhaled shakily, fingers tightening slightly on your legs. "So yell at me. Scream. Throw something. Hit me. Tell me I’m an asshole. Break my heart if you must. But don’t keep it in like this. Don’t shrink away just to keep the peace. You don’t deserve to carry that weight in silence. Not because of me."

That did it.

Your hands clenched into fists. Your throat burned. All the things you hadn’t said—because you’d been trying so hard to be quiet, to be calm, to be “understanding”—rose to the surface in one breathless wave.

"You made me feel like I was in the way," you said, your voice small, shaky. "Like I was annoying you just by caring."

"I know," he said immediately. "I know I did."

"I made you food. I checked in. I waited until it felt like the right time to speak—and you still bit my head off."

"I remember," he whispered. "And I regret every word. I hated myself the second they left my mouth."

"I felt stupid," you admitted, voice breaking. "Stupid for trying. Stupid for loving you so much that I didn’t know when to stop."

He reached up, cupped your face carefully like it might crumble in his hands. "Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. You loving me like that? That’s the best thing in my life. And I made you feel like it wasn’t. That’s on me."

You bit your lip, tears spilling before you could stop them. "I didn’t know how to come back from it. I didn’t want to bring it up again because I thought… maybe it would make things worse. Maybe you’d snap again."

"I won’t," he said quickly, earnestly. "I swear to you, I won’t. I’ll listen. I’ll be there. I’ll take every hard word, every tear, every angry look—because I deserve it. And because I want to fix this the right way, not just the easy way."

You looked at him through your tears, your voice barely above a whisper. "It still hurts."

"I know. And I’ll sit with you through every second of that hurt. I’m not running. Not from you. Not ever again."

You stared at him for a long time. Then, slowly, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. He closed his eyes immediately, one hand moving to the back of your neck.

"I don’t want to fight," you whispered.

"Then don’t," he whispered back. "Just be here. That’s enough for me. You—exactly how you are—that’s enough."

He pulled you into him, and you let yourself go, finally, arms around his shoulders, face in his neck. You cried there, not from fresh pain, but from everything that had been bottled up for too long. He held you tighter with every shaky breath, whispering soft apologies, promises, truths.

"I love you," he said between kisses to your hair. "I love you so much. I’ll never stop choosing you."

When the tears passed, he pulled you gently onto the couch, wrapping the blanket around both of you. You curled into his chest, feeling his heart beating fast beneath your cheek.

"Let’s stay like this for a while," you said, voice tired but lighter.

"Forever, if you want."

© kysstar

[cloudyyy1]

MISSED BIRTHDAYS | KIM HONGJOONG

pairing : : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis : : due to the stress of the upcoming comeback, hongjoong forgets your birthday.

genre : : slight hurt-comfort, fluff

warnings : : suggestive ending maybe?

word count : : 1.2k

author's note : : wrote this while stressing abt my mafia au joong fic

—The studio was buzzing with energy, filled with the hum of unfinished tracks and the quiet murmurs of tired voices. Hongjoong had been glued to his screen for hours, making final adjustments for the upcoming comeback. The weight of expectations sat heavily on his shoulders, pushing everything else to the back of his mind.

"What's today's date again?" Seonghwa suddenly asked, flipping through some papers.

"Uh..." Hongjoong barely glanced up, reaching for his own phone to check. "It's the—"

His words trailed off. His heart sank as the realization hit him like a freight train. He stared at the date on the screen, eyes wide.

Your birthday.

The blood drained from his face. How could he forget?

Panic seized him. He shot up from his chair so quickly that his headphones clattered to the floor.

"Hyung?" Mingi blinked at him, confused.

"I—I gotta go!" Hongjoong stammered, grabbing his coat and shoving his phone into his pocket. "I'll explain later!"

The others barely had time to react before he was out the door, sprinting toward his car. His mind raced faster than his heartbeat as he navigated the streets, cursing himself with every red light. How could he be so careless? So consumed with work that he forgot one of the most important days of the year?

His first stop was the nearest florist. He nearly scared the poor shop owner when he burst through the door, panting. "I need flowers," he blurted out, barely able to catch his breath. "Something—something good. Beautiful. The best ones you have." The woman behind the counter gave him a look, but after a quick glance at his frantic expression, she sighed and grabbed a bouquet of fresh flowers.

His next stop was a bakery. He didn’t even check what cake he was buying, just pointed at one that looked remotely decent and hurriedly paid, not caring if it was overpriced. Every second felt like wasted time. He needed to get to you. Now.

As he drove, he fumbled for his phone at a red light, quickly glancing at his messages. His chest tightened at the empty screen. Not a single call. Not even a text from you. Nothing. He knew what that meant. You were mad. No, beyond mad.

Hongjoong clenched the steering wheel, his jaw tightening. He had been so caught up in everything—the comeback, the stress, the pressure—that he hadn’t even thought to check the date. Hadn't even thought about you. How could he let this happen? You had always been understanding of his schedule, always patient with him when work got too much. But your birthday? That wasn’t just another day. That was your day, and he had completely let it slip his mind.

By the time he reached your place, his pulse was hammering. With the bouquet in one hand and the cake in the other, he barely took a second to collect himself before knocking. The door creaked open, and there you stood, eyes widening in surprise.

“Joong?” You blinked, gaze flicking down to the flowers and cake before returning to his face. He looked wrecked—eyes slightly red from stress, lips pressed into a thin line like he had been holding his breath the whole way here.

“I—” He cut himself off, stepping forward. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “I can’t believe I forgot. I—” He swallowed hard, the guilt weighing on him heavier than anything else. “You have every right to be mad. I should’ve—”

“darling.” You stopped him with a small shake of your head, a soft smile playing on your lips. “It’s okay.”

He froze. His brows furrowed slightly, as if he hadn’t heard you right. “What?”

“I get it. You’ve been busy. You have so much on your plate already.” You stepped aside to let him in, and he hesitated before finally walking through the door. “I won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a little,” you admitted, setting the bouquet down on the table. “But I know you. I know how much pressure you’re under right now. I didn’t expect you to drop everything for me.”

Hearing you say that nearly shattered him. His throat tightened as he watched you set the flowers on the counter, your smile still so gentle, so forgiving. You weren’t mad. You weren’t upset. And yet, somehow, that made the guilt eat away at him even more.

Before he could stop himself, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. His face buried in the crook of your neck, and for a moment, he just held you, inhaling the familiar scent of your shampoo, feeling the warmth of you against him. His grip tightened as he felt the prick of tears in his eyes.

"You should be mad at me," he mumbled, voice slightly muffled against your skin. "I forgot your birthday."

You sighed softly, running a soothing hand through his hair. "I don’t want to be mad at you. I just want you to take care of yourself." You pulled back slightly, just enough to cup his cheeks, brushing your thumbs against the soft skin beneath his eyes. His lashes fluttered as he looked at you, eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I know you didn’t forget on purpose. I know you love me."

He let out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. "I do. More than anything."

You smiled before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss against his lips. His hands found their way to your waist, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie. When you finally pulled away, he chased after your lips slightly, reluctant to let go of the moment.

"I'm making it up to you," he said, determination replacing the guilt in his voice. "Tomorrow. I’ll take you anywhere you want."

You chuckled, poking his forehead lightly. "You have a comeback to focus on, Captain. You don’t have time for that."

"I don’t care," he insisted, pulling you closer again, his forehead resting against yours. "I’ll make time."

"You can make it up to me next time," you reassured him, pressing another gentle kiss to his cheek.

He groaned, clearly unhappy with your response, but he melted under your touch when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another hug. "I still feel horrible," he murmured, lips grazing the side of your neck as he pressed a soft kiss there.

"You can make it up to me right now," you teased, tilting your head slightly to give him better access.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips despite himself. "Oh? Is that so?" His hands slipped under your hoodie, fingers tracing absent-minded patterns along your skin.

You hummed, leaning in to kiss him again, slower this time. "Mhm. Starting with another kiss."

And who was he to deny you that?

© kysstar

[cloudyyy1]

Once - Mingi x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: After accidentally sending a naked photo of yourself to your roommate Mingi, things take a turn.

Genre and warnings: roommates to lovers. smut. fem pronouns for reader. size kink. dirty talk. oral sex. unprotected sex. one shot.

Word count: 4,052.

Tag list: @thewonderofkpop - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @billboard-singer - @yunhofingers - @foggyinternetchaos - @passionloveindividualityempathy - @multihoe-net - @haruharu-egypt - @yuyusmist - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @offmymindmp3 (this tag list was for people who requested to be attached to all fics or my ateez fics. if you want to be on this list, let me know.)

this fic is not meant to represent mingi in any way, shape or form.

           The embarrassment began around seven in the evening. Maybe you had been too hasty, maybe too worked up to realize you were sending the photo to the wrong person. Whatever the reason, you hadn’t even noticed that the risqué photo wasn’t sent to the correct person but instead to your roommate, Mingi.

           It is around 7:15 when your sexual frustration got the better of you, wondering why the hell it is taking so long for the other person to reply. Your phone happens to buzz as you snatch it up, only for your disappointment to hit when you see it is from Mingi. Regardless, you open the text – and then your heart plummets as far down as possible when you realize your mistake.

           “Going to assume this isn’t for me? 😅😅😅”

           “Oh, fuck my life.” You mumble, staring at your phone.

           You have been roommates with Mingi for about six months now. After your last roommate abruptly left, you didn’t have time to be picky about who moved in. Mingi seemed nice enough when first meeting him – awkward, a bit dorky, extremely shy. He kept things tidy and didn’t annoy you which is as much as you could ask for from a roommate. The last thing you wanted to do was fuck things up…and sending a topless photo of yourself is exactly how to do so.

Keep reading

[cloudyyy1]

Properly - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW)

📱 Summary: Nervous about running into your ex at a party, your best friend Seonghwa has devised a plan to pretend that you are dating him. However, in acting as if you are together, the friendship begins to change course.

📱 Word count: 9,763

📱 Genre and warnings: smut. one shot. best friends to lovers. fem pronouns for reader. soft dom seonghwa with shy sub reader. mentions of alcohol and drinking. dirty talk, pet names. taking sexual photos. reader is restrained. mild choking. some praise kink. oral sex. unprotected sex. 

📱 Tags: @thewonderofkpop - @foggyinternetchaos - @obligatoryidolblog - @iusrene - @yunhofingers - @multihoe-net - @haruharu-egypt - @lilhwahwa - @btsreader12 - @talkbykhalid - @rdiamond2727 - @xirenex 

this fic is not meant to represent seonghwa in any way, shape or form.

               Oh, this was a mistake.

               You are smiling awkwardly, letting Seonghwa do all the talking. You have lost track of the conversation around five minutes ago. Someone bumps into you on the way to the champagne table which in turns knocks you slightly into Seonghwa. He goes along with it, his hand releasing his hold on yours and sliding around your waist.

               You’re just enjoying a date at this party with your boyfriend, you remind yourself, just ignore the fact Hwa isn’t actually your boyfriend.

               As if sensing your thoughts, Hwa tilts his face in your direction and goes, “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

               “Yup!” Your voice is artificially cheery and a pitch too high. You also have no clue what you are agreeing to; the only thing you can focus on is the weight of Hwa’s hand on your hip.

               Hwa gazes at you for a beat too long, probably knowing that you are freaking out, before turning his attention to the few people in the group. “Now, if you could please excuse us, I really would like to grab a drink.”

               Hwa leads you away from the group, weaving through the crowd of partygoers. There is way too much attention on you – and how could there not be since you lied and told everyone that you had begun dating your best friend, Seonghwa? The only people who know the entire thing is a lie are your parents and your close circle of friends. Anxious for a space to collect yourself, you scurry forward and Hwa’s hand falls off your waist which clears the fog from your brain.

Keep reading

[cloudyyy1]

Arrow in the Dark - Seonghwa x Reader (NSFW) - Masterpost

PART ONE: Your quiet life of working at a convenience store is upended when ultra wealthy Seonghwa convinces you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night in order to fool his parents.

PART TWO: Persuaded by Seonghwa to try a crash course in relationships in order to pull off convincing his parents of the lie that the two of you are deeply in love, you quickly realize that you might have taken on more than your heart is prepared for.

FINAL PART:  With the beach house weekend finally here, certain decisions need to be made in regards to the ever changing relationship you have with your fake boyfriend, Seonghwa.

Playlist of music I used to plan/write the fic is here.