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kkkthrn · 2 days ago

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waited for you, love

word count: 11966 genre/theme: im going to be so honest, idk what trope but minimal angst, flirty, high school friends reunited as always, imagine whoever you would like... sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

“You’ve changed.” You smile.

“You too.” And it isn’t just formality. You notice the deeper lines in his cheeks and the darker shades under his eyes. You wonder what else is different.

“I’d be surprised if I haven’t.” He takes a sip of his tea, and when his hand reaches out, you can see tiny blisters littered over his skin. He must have noticed you staring, because he instantly clears his throat and pulls his sweater down.

“You know,” He grins. “I was surprised to get your text. I didn’t think you’d know.”

“Know about a worldwide superstar with millions of fans being discharged from enlistment?” You laugh. “I think even my parents were watching the news about you.” He covers his face in embarrassment.

“That’s sweet.”

When your parents heard that your classmate from ages ago was being discharged, they insisted that you send a message. You refused, saying that you haven’t spoken to him in ages and it would be weird to suddenly reach out. Being parents, they asked you to send a fruit basket anyway.

A few texts later, here you are, the fruit basket next to him.

“Congrats again. I’m sure it must have been hard.” You say softly. It wasn’t just the news of his discharge that you read about. You hear the rumors, and as much as you itch to find out the truth, you refrain.

He smiles, a hint of sadness present along the curve of his lips. “There are worse matters.”

“So, how long will you be in town?” You ask, trying to ask the subject.

“Maybe 2-3 months.”

“That’s not too bad. Enough time for catching up with your family, eating local food…”

“And losing myself to my bed.” He jokes.

“That’s for sure. And then what?” You ask slowly.

“More music, more dancing, maybe a tour.”

“So, back to normal.” You nod slowly, and he laughs.

“Exactly.”

“Are you excited?” You ask, adding sugar to your tea.

He blows air through his lips and looks at a spot above your head for a moment. “I don’t know. It’s this weird feeling of relief mixed with a craving for something new?” He says it as if to ask if you understand.

“Yeah.” You say softly. A silence falls over you, but it doesn’t feel too strange. It reminds you of the days when everyone was quietly studying or reading in class.

A memory pops into your mind, and you find yourself momentarily back in it. The trees outside this shop look just like the ones swaying beyond the classroom window. You can hear a couple of students bickering behind you, shushing each other every now and then. Your deskmate has fallen silent, and his steady breathing signals that he has forfeited his book.

Your eyes drift to the field, and you wonder what it would be like to lie on the grass under the sun right now. Summer break is a few weeks away, but you wish you could feel the rays on your skin already.

The boy beside you stirs and ends up facing you. His eyes heavily lift to meet yours. With his cheeks squished onto the table, his pouted lips curve into a grin.

“You’re supposed to be on page 48 by now.” You whisper.

“What page am I on?” He mumbles.

“Ten.” He stretches his arms above his head, then leans his head on your shoulder.

“Can I skip to page 50?”

“No.”

“Can you read it for me?”

“No.”

“Won’t you help your poor-”

“No.” You flip a page as he groans. He eventually reads, as he always does. The days go by, and summer comes, as it usually does. He bothers you endlessly, all in good fun. You grow, in height and soul. So does he. When graduation comes, you feel a void. He is off to be a great idol, and you, his deskmate who outshone him in many ways, will eventually stay within your roots, where you open a local veterinary clinic and take it day by day.

“You’re mom told me that you opened a clinic.” He says, and you nod slowly. His mom brought their cat once. “Can I come by and see it?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback. Since your clinic is the nearest place for injured animals, most people have associated your place with the horror of death and tend to avoid it. “Uhm, sure.” You scramble to get your keys. “Are you free right now?”

His smile widens. “Do you keep pets there?”

“We have a few right now as some neighbours are travelling.” You explain as you walk out the coffee shop with him.

“So you’re like a pet hotel too?” His questions remind you of school. He’s always been so curious about everything except the task at hand.

The walk to your pet clinic, hotel, funeral service, whatever he calls it is full of chatter. It turns out he hasn’t changed that much at all, and you find that comforting.

You warn him to not expect too much as you unlock the door. You don’t expect him to be blown away by the work that you have done, but you also want to avoid a look of disappointment from him as much as possible.

When he enters the space, you’re too busy clearing tables and seats. He is silent but you don’t notice it until you’re looking back at him. He stares at a certain frame, the one that holds the newspaper article about your clinic opening - one of your proudest moments. You stand next to him and read the lines again for the first time in a while.

“You really made a name for yourself, Bubble.” You turn to him, surprised he still remembers. He must have noticed your expression because his lips twist into a smile, seemingly satisfied that he has caught you off guard. “How could I forget my deskmate?”

When he looks at you, the light hits his face differently than you’ve ever seen him. It’s almost as if you’re seeing him for the first time, on the other side of the sun’s shadow. Have his eyes always been this brown? You stare for a while, and the world seems to spin around you, regardless of how you feel right now.

“I still don’t know why you call me that.” You say and clear your throat. He doesn’t answer, but the smile remains on his face.

“So, when can I see these precious pets that you keep in this establishment?”

You lead him to the back, where the pets are in their respective cages. Most of them are resting since you took them running this morning. He inspects each one and squeals when one reaches for him. Both of you spend a while in this backroom, excited by the animals' longing for human interaction.

“Do all of them have owners?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“Some of them, I found on the streets, so I help to take care of them until I can get my adoption site up.”

The man nods slowly. “I think I’d love to work with pets.” What he says gives you an idea, and you debate for a short moment whether you should say anything. You decide to anyways.

“I’m always needing a few extra hands around here if you’d like.” You offer, and his eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. “You don’t have to come in every day. Twice a week would work too.” He probably wants to spend time with his family, too.

“So, do I need an interview?” He asks, and you laugh a little.

“Hmm, what are your strengths and weaknesses?” You ask as you stroke the fur of a kitten you picked up a few days ago. She’s still healing from an infection, but she has warmed up to you quite well.

“I am a fast learner, and I really love animals. I used to watch National Geographic videos when I couldn’t sleep.” A smile can’t help itself from spreading across your face. “So, whatever you need me to do, I can do it.”

“Okay,” You say slowly, as if you’re truly thinking about hiring him. “You’re hired!”

He bows and claps as if he is on an award show. “So, I’ll start tomorrow?” The excitement that spills out from him can fill buckets and you feel honored to have him feel that way about working in your space.

“If you don’t mind, I’d actually like to show a few things. Just because, I don’t know if I’ll have the time to sit with you and do this tomorrow.” He follows you behind the counter, where you start up the computer. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to vaccinate a cat on the first day of your job, but you definitely need to know a few things about working here.” You explain administration, and you break down a few things that he needs to look out for.

“If there’s a rude customer, just tell them to leave. I’ve only encountered that once, but if it does happen and you don’t know what to do, I’ll probably be at the back, so just call out.” He didn’t lie, he is a terribly fast learner - even more than before. You are a little surprised by how well he is listening to you. You still remember the days when you had to nag him endlessly to get him to answer a question that took less than 5 minutes.

“That should be all. But if you want, I can give you a few of my notebooks that have some information on how I did things.” He grins at you, the way he did before, to affirm something with you without speaking.

After you pass your books to him, he offers to walk you home.

“But don’t we live in opposite directions?” You ask. When you run the only vet in town, you tend to know everyone.

He purses his lips, as if he has been caught. “Yeah, but it’s pretty late. I don’t mind taking the walk.”

You look out at the setting sun then back at him. When he doesn’t budge, you wave him off. “Don’t worry, I’ve walked home alone countless times. It’s pretty safe around here.” You say, taking him out of his head. “Go ahead, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He taps his fingers on the notebooks and seems to contemplate leaving. When you’re shrugging on your cardigan and he hasn’t left, you ask him if he’s alright.

“I…” He looks around the room several times and you suddenly see his eyes light up. “I need to thank your parents for the fruits. And come on, you just gave me a job.”

“With minimum wage.” You correct.

“I definitely should thank your family in person. Why don’t we grab some dinner for all of you?” He rushes to grab his bag as he ignores what you say.

“Who said I live with my parents?” You try to bluff. He doesn’t fall for it. Of course, you live with your parents. It is a small town.

As much as you try to fight it, he walks beside you until you reach your house, where he exclaims with joy. “We’re here!” The sky is darkening, and you feel bad for not dragging him to his place instead. Before you can protest his entering your household, he goes up the stairs and knocks on the door a couple of times.

Your mother opens the door immediately. Her jaw drops, surprised to see your old classmate in front of her door.

“Oh my.” She whispers, and you are about to say something when he cuts you off.

“Hello, ma’am, how are you?”

She looks at you for a short moment, eyes clearly in alarm. Your father calls out from the couch, asking who it is.

“Ah, it’s…” You’ve never seen your mother at a loss for words. When your father appears, he gasps and immediately lets him in. “Oh my goodness, it’s been so long! Look at how you’ve grown.” He talks as if it were his own son coming home from enlistment.

“Hello sir, it’s nice to see you again.” He grins and bows. Your father makes small conversation with him as he enters the living room, while your mother whispers to you.

“What’s he doing here?”

“I have no idea.” You say in a hushed tone as you hang your bag behind the door.

“I don’t have a lot of food left.” She worries, which he must have noticed since he immediately tells her not to worry.

“I ate a lot during lunch. Thank you for offering.” He speaks so kindly, you can see your mother’s shoulders relax just a little.

“I’ll go cut some fruit then.” She hurries to the kitchen, and you’re about to follow her when your father calls you to sit with them. Your father sits between both of you, but his attention is fully on the man who intruded on your home.

They talk about life in enlistment and share stories that only the other would understand. You sit and play with your hands on your lap. This situation is comical. It makes you want to hide in your room.

When your mother returns with the fruit, you start thinking about the ways that you can smoothly ask him to exit. But the chat continues and you find it more difficult to ask him to leave politely when your parents laugh at each of his jokes. By 30 minutes, the awkwardness has eroded and he is signalling that it’s time to leave.

“Thank you again for the fruit, ma’am.” He bows and your mother waves him off, telling him to come by anytime. She asks him if he needs you to accompany him.

“The lights around here flicker a lot and it’s quite scary. You haven’t been home for a while either, right?” She offers but he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry ma’am. The army has taught me well.” He acts out a series of punches, which even you laugh a little at. As the three of you see him off, he says that he will see you tomorrow. Your parents, who don’t know that he is working with you, raise their eyebrows to the sky.

“It’s not what you think.” You say without looking at them. “Don’t get any funny ideas.” They’re still whispering to each other by the time you go back to your room.

“You really made a name for yourself, Bubble.” His voice echoes in your mind. You wander back to the permanent image of his face illuminated by the rays of sunlight through your windows. Has he always had that dimple?

Thinking about him for so long isn’t strange. You do this with the animals you treat constantly. You study each of their features, and you turn over diagnoses in your head until the lull of sleep draws you in. It’s how you fall tonight, with his smile etched on your mind.

Slumber is sweet, and your dream makes you smile. You’re in class again, but he’s awake this time. He offers you to try his game. It’s a love simulation and a confession is written on the screen. You try to tap but it doesn’t continue. You look back at him to ask about it but he is gone. The trees are still swaying outside, everlasting in its beauty. The distractions fall away and you look at the peace this place carries, wishing that you’re there forever.

It doesn’t last, and you’re awake after a few moments.

Work starts the same. The routine almost makes you forget that he is starting today. When he enters the clinic, you think that it’s a customer until you see him.

“Did you get home alright yesterday?” You ask as he sets his bag aside.

“Someone tried to scare me, but you know. I’m a seasoned man now.” He pumps his muscles and you smile a little.

“Okay, big guy, come feed the pets with me.” He does all his tasks near perfection. Your compliments morph into teasing, where you point out that this is as expected from a global superstar.

“Your fans weren’t lying. You really can do everything.” You say and he nudges your rib a little.

A week passes, and the regulars all know his name. They recognize him from tabloids and the news. You tend their critters while he denies their claims. He starts to wear a mask to work. Two weeks pass, and he brings a tiny kitten in.

“A stray.” He says solemnly. You take care of it the way you would any other and he plays with it at the front desk. He names it Titan, to mark its strength. You recall a distant memory, when he found an injured bird under a tree’s shadow.

He said he immediately called you first, trusting you only with the bird’s fate. You used your handkerchief to carry it home, and he often came by to check up on it. When he saw you nursing it, he would say, “You’re like its mom.”

And you would reply, “Then that makes you its dad.” You would see his cheeks turn pink and he would try to cough it away. After a while, he would call you ‘Mrs.’ with a made up last name for your little family. It became an inside joke, one that you doubt he still remembers.

Weeks pass, and the kitten grows, so does your fondness towards him. One day, he comes on a day off, and he asks you to lunch.

“But you’re not working today.” You say.

“Do I have to be working to have lunch with you?” He pushes himself onto the front desk chair, spinning into place where he can pet Titan.

“No, but don’t you want to spend your time doing something else?” You ask, looking at the way the kitten stands on his palms to reach his face.

He shrugs and lifts the kitten to his face before kissing its nose. “You’re so cute.” He says, eyes moving to you. You freeze. There’s a brief pause and you think you see his cheeky smile. “Come on. I’ll pay.” He says as he sets Titan down. You think about your original plan to eat street food alone and decide that this may be better.

“Fine, but not because you’re paying. I can take care of myself.” While you slide your coat off, you hear him mumble something under his breath. “What was that?” When you turn back to him, you notice that his gaze is fixed on you. For a moment, you hold it, challenging him to be the first to look away.

He seems to get the message and doesn’t budge.

Instead, he leans forward on his elbows, and he places his chin on his fists. Your eyes are starting to burn, and you want to laugh. Even though he holds it, you can see him chewing on his bottom lip, a sign you take as him nearing the edge. Seconds pass, and neither of you moves.

“Just give up.” You say, feeling the sting grow. He leans back and blows air out from his lips slowly, eyes still on you. He looks relaxed, with a hand over his thigh and the other up to his lips.

“You won’t beat me.” He says, but that only stokes your competitive spirit. He seems to be biting down on his thumb, as if trying to seduce you to lose.

You won’t fall for his lame tactic.

“Titan is falling.” You say, hoping he will blink or look away.

“No, he isn’t.” He smiles, seeing right through you.

“We should get going.”

“Lunch can wait.”

“Just look away.”

He shakes his head, eyes trained on you the whole time. When you finally can’t hold it in, you look away and blink hard. Your eyeballs feel warm and it takes a few moments for you to recover while he celebrates his victory with fist pumps. He takes Titan’s paw and shakes it, as if it understands what just happened.

You’re not sure you do either.

“You have one intense gaze. I see what they mean now.” You wipe your eyes slowly, and he laughs.

“I thought my eyes were going to pop out.” He says as he returns Titan to its cage.

“You looked so relaxed!” He shakes his head, and a grin spreads across his face. “How do you even hold it for that long?”

“You just don’t think about the burning, then you won’t think about the blinking.” He explains as you lock up.

“Then what were you thinking about?” You drop the keys into your bag and start walking with him.

“You.” He says without skipping a beat. You look at him and furrow your eyebrows. “And the clinic, and Titan, and the animals, and how they would all want me to win.”

“Ah,” You say slowly, nodding to his words.

He takes you to eat cold noodles, a staple for hot summer days such as today, which is hotter than usual. You can’t decipher why, but every time you meet his eyes now, you feel a warmth in your cheeks. He keeps his word and pays for the meal before walking you back to your clinic. You expect him to leave, but he doesn’t go anywhere. He helps you clean and organize files. Only two people come in for the rest of the day.

Two days later, he comes with flowers.

“What’s the occasion?” You ask, not knowing they were meant for you.

“I…just thought they’d brighten the space up.” He says as he puts them in a vase.

“Oh, thank you so much. That’s awfully sweet of you.” He grins while he arranges them. “I don’t know when’s the last time anyone has given me flowers.”

He says it so casually, you feel stunned for a moment. “Your boyfriend doesn’t give you any?”

You laugh a little while you return the clipboard you were holding. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You pause for a moment. “And actually, I think I got flowers when I first opened this place, so that was probably the last time.” You say, recalling the large standing bouquets that your parents bought for you.

“Oh, okay.” He pauses and you see that he’s pursing his lips, as if trying to hide a smile. “That must’ve been nice.”

When you’re closing the office, you realize that he stands there, waiting for you. He insists on walking you home. When he does, he stays nearest to the street. Every time he passes a store, he offers to buy you a snack or a light drink. You have to drag him away even though he’s protesting. And every time, even though the store is out of sight, he doesn’t let go of your hand. You never notice this until you’re almost home, where you instantly pull away and apologize. He laughs, deep and melodic.

This cycle repeats, and you find that he comes almost every day. Your parents give you questioning looks when they see him outside of your house. You tell them that it’s nothing. But to be honest, you don’t know if you believe yourself. Whether it’s something you are afraid to admit, or something unknown, something has changed, and you aren’t sure what to name it.

One night, as you’re reaching home, you tell him as a joke, “You know, if I were cruel, I wouldn’t pay you for willingly coming to work on your days off.”

“Then don’t.” He says, and you think that you’ve offended him.

“Oh no, that was a joke. I’m totally okay with paying you. I mean, of course, I should be, given that that’s my job as your employer. I’m rambling.” You pause and take a deep breath. “What I mean to say is that I really appreciate you coming to help, even though you don’t have to.”

“And what I meant,” He stops walking and turns to you. This is when you notice that your hand is still in his. “Is that I don’t mind if you don’t pay me. Instead, I’m wondering if you would like to go for dinner with me sometime.” You don’t take care of your expression, and you think he panics when he sees your face. “You know, to make up for my unpaid hours.”

“You make me sound evil. But sure, should we go to that noodle place?” You ask, aware but not taking your hand away. It’s warm, not that you need it.

“Uh not quite,” He looks down and swings your joint hands back and forth. “There’s this really nice place that just opened up near the river. I’d like to…” He trails off and you search his eyes for his intention. “Take you out.”

You don’t understand.

“On a date.” He says slowly and that’s when it clicks in your head. You open your mouth to say something, but the words won’t come out.

“I…”

“No pressure at all.” He says but you notice his grip on your fingers growing tighter. “Totally won’t crush me. I’m only joking. Now who’s rambling?” He laughs nervously.

“I’d like that.” You say, still in disbelief at what he’s asking you.

“Really?” His eyes widen, as if he never expected you to say yes.

“Yeah, uhm, I mean, you’re not lying, are you?”

“No, no, that’d be cruel. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” You can’t help the smile on your face. It’s almost as if it’s projected from this feeling in your stomach, a churning that excites you.

“So, I’ll pick you up this Friday at 6 PM? I’ll meet you at the clinic.” He says, and you nod slowly. It’s almost as if your brain takes a snapshot of this moment, forever burning this into your collection of core memories.

You don’t want to go into your house. You want to stay here and talk a little more with him. But then he lets go of your hand and tells you to go in before your parents get worried.

“I’ll see you soon.” You wave at him slowly, childlike. He does the same until you close the gate behind you. When you peek above the wall, you see that he’s squatting, head in hands. You think that maybe he is unwell but then his feet shoot him into the air, and he whispers, “Yes!”

You don’t want him to notice you so you slide down the wall, having your moment of triumph alone. Before you go into your home and pretend that nothing happened, before you sleep tonight, you just want this small moment to yourself. He asked a question you had never expected to hear.

Is this right?

Does that matter?

Perhaps not, but the nonstop beating of your heart is enough to convince you that some part of this is meant to be. Otherwise, you wouldn’t feel this way, right? You pray this isn’t as fleeting as you fear. You wish to feel like this forever, as if you are special, wanted, somebody.

You go to sleep with a permanent smile, and you wake from your slumber with the memory of last night. It’s two days until Friday, and you find yourself needing more work to distract you from the clock ticking.

What do you wear? What do you say? What if he ditches you? What if it goes well, what then? It’s strange to want and fear something at the same time. This paradox leaves you a jumble of nerves until Friday night.

You count the seconds until 6 PM, but he shows up five minutes early. You don’t expect it, and you feel more unprepared. He comes wearing a suit, and you notice the matching colour between his dark green tie and the tiny flowers on your dress.

“Hi,” You start. He smiles so gently at you.

“Hi,” He replies, and he reveals a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. Your heart softens as he passes them to you. You grab them and thank him. When your hands brush against each other, he opens his palm to you, silently asking if you would like to hold hands.

You place yours in his, and both of you happily make your way to the restaurant. “You look beautiful.” He says.

“Thank you. You look really handsome too.” You can see him hold back a wider smile, and it pleases you to know that he cares about your thoughts too.

When you stop in front of the restaurant, something stirs within you and you feel like walking back the other way or jumping the nerves out. It’s unexplainable; you just know that it feels awful and familiar all at once.

“You okay?” He asks you in a low voice. You turn to him and chew down on your lip.

“Yeah, I just…I think I’m really nervous.” You blurt out while your fingers fiddle with your bag. A small laugh escapes your lips. “Sorry, I’m not usually like this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He stands in front of you and holds you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him instead. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” His face is gentle. You shake your head.

“Oh goodness, no. I…just can’t believe this is happening.” You say, convincing yourself that your strength is enough to overcome this anxiety. His eyes search yours and you smile before pressing a kiss onto his cheek. “I’ll be fine.” You smile at him.

He laces his fingers with yours and brings you inside, where he chooses a seat beside you instead of across. You eye the cheapest thing, knowing that he will insist on paying. When you place your order with the waitress, he adds two more dishes and asks for a certain bottle of wine.

“Sorry for being so weird out there.” You whisper to him. He puts his arm around you and shakes his head slightly.

“I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable. If you don’t like it here, we can always go somewhere else.” He says. His words comfort you, helping you feel instantly better, making you melt onto his shoulder. You feel him stiffen for a moment. After all, it’s the first time you’ve touched him beyond hand-holding. It feels natural here.

“You smell good.” You say as you play with his fingers. Interlocking your hands and running your thumb over his knuckles, and playing with the lines on his palms. He stays silent for a while and you’re worried that you may smell bad. One of the pets vomited today, and now you’re wondering whether the smell has remained even after all the scrubbing.

You immediately sit up and smell yourself, to which he laughs.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“You didn’t say it back, so I’m just making sure.” You sniff your hands and hair, searching for any sign that you stink.

“Oh my Bubble.” He pulls you in and takes a big whiff of your hair. “You smell like home. I love it.” He strokes your hair gently. As the two of you wait for the food to arrive, you grow comfortable around him. He asks you about the funniest things that have happened at the clinic. You ask him about his favourite memory as a superstar. He is surprised by your knowledge of his career, and you tell him that you’ve been supporting him secretly before he debuted.

“How did you feel when I sent you that text about the fruit basket?”

“Honestly, I was surprised you even remembered me. More so by the fact that your parents thought of doing that. It was really touching, a great welcome back gift.” He smiles.

“I can’t believe you remember me.”

“Of course I did. Besides, you haven’t changed your phone number at all.” You pause playing with his hands, and you pull away.

“Haven’t you changed numbers? How’d you know it was the real me that texted?” You ask him, and his face speaks of someone who has been caught. That’s when you realize, “You saved my number.”

He doesn’t deny it and tries to bring you in close to him again, but you pull away, laughing.

“Why’d you save my number? I mean, if you didn’t, you wouldn’t have even replied.” You theorize in front of him, and he waves you off.

“Does it matter?” He says, shying away from the truth.

“Yes!” You whisper-shout. “Why’d you keep it?”

“Well…” He crosses his arms and takes a sharp inhale. “We had all those important texts about notes, I couldn’t just delete them.”

“Right, you needed notes on Physics formulas for your debut?” You joke. When he nods, you raise an eyebrow. “Come on, tell me.” You place your face near his and stare up at him.

“I…” He starts but then he pulls away. “I guess some secrets are meant to be taken to the grave.” You sigh and grab his arm as you continue to beg. “Alright, alright. I guess I didn’t want to lose touch. I know we ended up doing so anyway, but I thought that maybe one of us would end up texting the other someday, and I didn’t want to lose that chance.”

“But…why would you want to stay in touch?” You furrow your eyebrows. He never said anything to you in the years that he was gone. Now, he’s saying that he wanted to keep talking to you. “Not that it’s a crime to do so, but I mean, I never thought you cared that much for me.”

He seems to be debating something in his head and when he finally speaks, he asks you a question. “Okay, be honest with me. Did you ever feel like I was different around you, like weird?”

“No.” You answer after some thought. “You were weird with everyone.”

“Okay,” He laughs. “But I did things with you that I didn’t do with everyone else. Like, carry your backpack, tease you a lot, stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You think about it for a moment. There was also that time he would bring a snack for you every morning. “Yeah, I guess you were nice. But that’s just because I helped you with your homework.”

A small laugh escapes him, and he takes your two hands in his. “That’s a little bit true. But, it’s…” He looks down at his lap and takes a deep breath. Just as he is about to speak, the waitress comes with the dishes.

Your attention breaks, and you look at each of the dishes. The previous moment has broken. Each of you take portions of each, sharing all of the food together. You tell him what you like and ask if he’s ever had something similar. He sheepishly tells you that he’s had something similar overseas. You ask him to tell you the best thing he has eaten so far, and he promises you that he will take you there.

The night continues. He wants to know everything about you. You tell him all the stories after graduation, the funny, the sad, and the bittersweet. You tell him about your first job, and how you had to work with large animals. You ask him about his life, “I’m sure you have a lot of stories.”

He tells you about his pre-debut days, staying in a dorm with all his members, and every time they argued, which he can laugh about now. The more glasses of wine he drinks, the more emotional he becomes, and he tells you about this love and hate relationship with his identity. He loves the spotlight, but he craves consistency. He finds it strange, and he wishes this could last forever. He says that regardless of how good he feels now, he will always hold space for the nostalgia of school with you.

As his tipsy self, he blubbers on about how he misses his high school days. He says that he still hears your voice when he can’t finish his book, or when he is too lazy to clean his space. You laugh at all his jokes, the buzz making it easier to do so.

An hour later, he’s leaning his head on your shoulder, and he mutters random words. It’s funny to watch him behave this way, and you can’t help but hiccup every time you giggle.

When they come to take the dishes away, you offer to pay, because his half-lidded eyes are in no state to read the bill. But then the waitress says that he has taken care of it, and they let you stay on your table for a little longer.

His breathing slows and steadies while you sip your wine slowly, trying to sober up at the same time. He’s holding onto your hand even in his sleep, and every once in a while, he mutters incomprehensible words.

Once the bottle is gone, and all that’s left is a feeling of drowsiness, you gently lift his head and hold his face in your hands. His eyes lift slowly, and he looks at you as if you’re a dream.

“Hey, handsome.” You whisper, and he grins. You feel his cheeks getting warmer before he places his head on your shoulder and stretches his arms around you.

“Was I passed out?” He mumbles, and you laugh.

“I didn’t know you couldn’t hold your liquor.” You say as you pat his back slowly, the way you do a baby.

“It’s just comfortable in your arms.” He wraps his arms around your waist tighter and then snuggles his head into your neck.

“You slept like a baby.” You say, trying to ignore how fast your heart is beating with his body pressed against yours. “Not just any baby, though.”

He pulls his head back and looks at you, a coy smile plastered on his face. “Mhmm, what do you mean by that?” He mutters. Your cheeks warm, but you refuse to look away.

“What do you think I mean?” You whisper. He leans closer, but you try to ignore it. Your lips itch to move, but he has his still curved into a smile. This space between you is small and limitless at the same time. You resist the urge to pull him in, but you can’t break away.

He’s thankfully the first to fold.

He pulls away a little and drops a peck on your cheek. “Should we start moving, beautiful?” You stand first and extend your arm towards him. As you walk out, the warm wind blows towards you gently.

“Do you want to take a walk for a bit?” He asks, slipping his hand in yours. You nod, and he takes you in the opposite direction of your home, where there is a long bridge over the river. As the two of you walk, you begin to sober up. It’s easier to see the stars in a town like yours, and you point out the brightest ones to him. You tell him about a time you were obsessed with them, and how you read piles of books about the stars. He watches you as you tell him about constellations. He twirls you around on this empty path, and he hums tunes as he dances with you. His body is warm when he is close, and his smell lingers when you pull away. At a point, the wine left floating in your system pushes you to ask him another question.

“Can I ask you something?” You turn to face him and step backwards along the sidewalk. He smiles and nods. With one hand clasped around yours, the other in his pocket, and the wind blowing his hair, he looks more beautiful than you have ever seen him. “Do you think you’re a different man than you were two years ago?” He purses his lips for a moment and stops walking. For a moment, you think that it might have been too personal a question. But then he starts taking steps towards you again.

“I think I tried really hard to protect who I was.” His eyes look toward the river beyond this bridge that you are on. “I was really defensive of my forever changing identity, and I didn’t want that taken away from me, if that makes sense. I mean, I get why enlistment is this huge honor. But being who I was was also this amazing feat. I was scared that if I changed, everything would, and…” He trails off, looking at his polished shoes. “I think, in that time of turbulence, I needed myself to be a constant.” You nod along to his words because you feel a piece of what he is saying.

“With that being said, I’m not ashamed of growth. You said it yourself, I did.” He finally looks at you, halting your soft steps. He takes your other hand and smooths your knuckles with his thumbs. “I like to think of myself as this tougher shell around this more delicate self that I have within me. It’s different, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.” You smile at him as he asks, “Do you think I changed a lot?”

“Hmm,” You ponder. “I think you’ve grown a lot of shells since I last met you. But that doesn’t make the you inside,” You place the tip of your finger on his chest. “any different, and therefore, it doesn’t make you less lovable.” He brings your hand up to his cheek, and he leans into your hold. “It’s almost like you’re a bouquet now, and different parts of you stand out when they need to.” He still has his mischief, his childlike innocence isn’t gone, but he has the tenacity and resilience of a man who has been through trials others can’t imagine experiencing. “I’m happy to hear that you are proud of who you are.” You whisper, and he kisses your palm. You stay like that for a few moments, then he links your hands and continues walking.

“My turn.” He says. The air is cool for a summer night, and the empty street next to you only makes this better. “Are you really dedicated to your roots, or are you just afraid of leaving this place?” You should be stunned by his question, and perhaps there’s a part of you that wants to be as defensive as you are in front of everyone else. But this is him, and it’s not the wine, nor is it the night that pushes the words off your tongue. It’s your want to be whole with him that calls you.

“The truth is,” You pause. You’ve never admitted this, even to yourself. “After university, I hit a really bad slump. I lost my grandparents. I had no friends, and everything was just a blur.” You say slowly. “And it was all becoming too much. The constant lights, noise, and just people. It was driving me crazy. I had nights where I stayed up just thinking about running along the beach again because that’s what I used to do as a kid. I didn’t sleep because of the guilt of not being there for my family. When I did, I’d get constant nightmares. One day, I just went home. Even the air was different. It was as if this was where I was supposed to be this whole time. And I felt the most peace I had in four years.”

You try to look anywhere else but at him so that he can’t see your glistening eyes. “I don’t know if it’s dedication or cowardice. But I think I just needed to find my place, which was really difficult, of course. Everyone chooses the opposite path from yours, and you kind of have to carve this road out for yourself. There’s no map, no blueprint, no one to tell you what you need to avoid. It was so hard, but God, the feeling that I had when I finally opened my clinic.” You sigh. “It was like I understood what they meant when they said that it is supposed to be difficult. I swear to you that moment made me feel like I was an Olympic winner. I was so proud of myself, not particularly because I was able to do all these things, but because I held on long enough to be able to.” You finish softly.

Moments of silence pass by, with only your soles treading lightly on the concrete.

“But anyways,” You look at him and you see that his cheeks are glistening under the streetlights. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” You take your hand away to search your purse for a handkerchief. As you rummage, you suddenly feel him softly pulling you in.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You say into his chest. He doesn’t say anything at first and only strokes your hair.

He mutters something. You look up at him to hear him better.

“Good job. You did so well for yourself.” He says as tears continue flowing down. You smile up at him, feeling your own throat tighten, a telltale sign of tears to come. He hugs you even tighter, and you wrap your arms around him. You don’t allow yourself to sob into him but you let a tear slide down your cheek in silence. To hear someone tell you those words felt like a chain had been broken inside you. You feel it in the way your body relaxes into him, and the way your breaths are deeper.

He rests his chin on your head and the two of you stay like that for a moment. You soak the wind into your skin, you feel him melt into you, and you let the air change you inside. You feel these seconds in its entirety. You refuse to forget.

When he calls your name, it’s soothing, just like when water laps onto the rocks below. And when he pulls your face close to his, your stomach stirs with nostalgia and excitement, a tornado of unfamiliarity that roars within you.

“I see you.” His lips move slowly, and you’re transfixed onto his gaze. He stares into you, and you hear the question his eyes are asking. It’s a silent answer, but you press your lips onto his and feel the world quiet. You don’t feel it when he moves his hand to the back of your neck, or when he tightens his grip on your waist. He moves against you as if you are water, fitting perfectly into each curve of his smile. When you pull away, he sighs, says, “Not yet”, and takes you in again. There’s a hunger to his hold, and he breathes you in with each kiss.

It’s a different type of bliss than you’ve felt before. He is whole, but you crave him. You pull him closer, even though he’s on you. You wish this moment doesn’t end.

The wind blows and you eventually pull away. He grins in stupor. When you walk home, he never lets you go. Even though you’ve reached the front of your house, he pulls you in again. You tell him, “Someone will see us.”

He doesn’t care.

You go to sleep that night already dreaming. The world has fallen away, and what matters is the haunting feeling of him next to you. You don’t taste the wine anymore, and your fingers touch your lips lightly, imagining him.

To say you slept that night would be to lie, because your dream of him is so vivid, you feel his skin when your fingers run over his face. You wake to an empty bed, and you wish that he is there.

Two days later, while you’re at the market, you notice a few adolescent girls whispering to each other as they glare at you. At first, you think that you are imagining it, but then you catch them looking at you viciously.

Your trip to the market today is the fastest it has ever been, even though you try to distract yourself with the routine. Your parents are away with their friends until mid next week, so the emptiness of the house feeds into the panic looming over your head.

They might have seen the kiss. Worse, they might have documented it for the world to see. You call him to tell the news, but he is calm. He tells you that it’s okay, and he offers to come over. You are hesitant at first, and he senses this, which makes him insist that he should be there.

When he arrives, your fidgeting stops and you instantly feel calmer.

“Hey,” He says softly and pulls you into a hug.

“Hi.” You breathe him in and remind yourself of where you are. He strokes your back for a moment and it works. Eventually, you notice the paper bag that he has set on the ground, and the smell wafts into your nose. “What’s that?” You ask, bending down to take a peek.

Inside are two sets of burgers, still hot. “I thought some food might help you feel a little calmer.” He says and you smile up at him.

“Thank you.” He tells you what’s in each of the burgers as you take plates out. Both of you lounge in front of the television, where you put on a comedy show and eat your heart out.

When you’re done with your burger, you find your eyes fighting to stay open.

“Sleepy?” He mumbles. Your head is on his shoulder, and when he speaks, his voice rings through his bones.

You nod as he tucks a few strands of your hair away from your face. He says something else, but you’re long gone before you hear him.

You wake 30 minutes later with a blanket on top of you. When you open your eyes, he’s nowhere to be seen, so you think that he has left for the day. But when you enter your room, you see that he’s admiring your room.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He beckons for you to come into his arms.

“Sorry,” He laughs when you apologize. “What are you looking at?”

“Has your room changed at all since high school?” He asks and you think for a moment.

“Not really. Most of the stuff is the same.” You shrug. “Why?” He looks mesmerized, as if he is stuck in a trance that your room has conjured.

“I feel like I’m seeing a different you here.” Your walls are covered with posters of your favourite movies and important reminders. This is one different thing. You used to wake up and be surrounded by mathematical concepts, biology terms, and reminders when solving problems. Things have changed, yet not at all.

“Are you staying for dinner?” You ask and he purses his lips, appearing to be in thought for a while. “I just bought some stuff so we can cook, if you’d like.” His eyes lighten up when you suggest this.

He tells you that he has grown and knows how to cook basic things now. You ask him to prove it and he finely chops carrots while you prepare the other ingredients. After inspection, you tell him that he did a good job and encourage him to help you with other things. Cooking with him is fun. He’s surprised when things come out great, and he teases you when you make mistakes.

He places his chin on your shoulder and hugs you from behind as you stir the pot. He also hums tunes that you’ve heard on the radio a thousand times, hundreds more from your phone. When you don’t recognize the song, you ask him if it’s an unreleased song and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Dinner flies by and he praises you endlessly about the food.

“You should give yourself some credit. You did some really good cutting too.” You say as you sip some of the soup.

“You’re right. I should appreciate this,” He lifts a slice of carrot and you laugh. “Carrot that I have sliced so perfectly.” He continues doing this every once in a while, making you giggle in your seat.

After dinner, he challenges you to a race over who can wash their dishes quicker. But just as both of you start, his phone suddenly rings. When he sees the caller ID, he tells you that he has to take this and you let him step outside to answer. You notice him laughing a little on the phone and a part of you is relieved that it may not be so bad.

When he returns, you’re about to return to the dishes when he stops you. He holds your hand as you stay seated next to him, worried about this uncertain look on his face.

“I need to talk you about something.” He says slowly and you brace yourself. Is it because of what those girls were doing earlier today? You can tell that he’s trying to read you, but you try to stay calm. You don’t know what he’s going to say. “As you know, I am…” He pauses, as if trying to figure out how to say the next words.

“I have been home for a month and a half, and it’s been a dream. This has been one of the best summers of my life.” You feel like you kow where this is heading but your head is spinning, as if all the blood has suddenly reached your head. You can’t tell what is real and what isn’t. “I just got a call from my manager, they might be expecting me sooner than I thought.”

You urge yourself to say something. Your lips part and the only word that comes out is, “Oh.”

Your hands are slightly trembling, and you’re waiting for it to hit you. Your lips quiver as if they know what comes next.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” He takes a deep breath. “I’m wondering if you would like to move to the city with me.”

The world stills.

It isn’t what you expected. You thought he’d leave, or that he’d tell you this is over. You freeze with your hands in his.

“Uhm,” You clear your throat.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, especially since you’ve built everything here. But, I want to be with you and…”

“And me too.” You whisper, feeling a strange mix of emotions flowing through your body. “But I can’t just leave everything behind.” The words are out before you can stop them.

He stays silent and purses his lips. When he looks away this time, he leaves a trace of hurt behind. The quiet grows in between you, and you find yourself wondering how the night has changed so much.

“I think we should take some time to think about this.” You take your hands away slowly and stand from your seat. He keeps his head down but nods. When none of you say anything else, he stands to leave. Before he steps out, you think about calling him and telling him that it will be okay. But the door closes and you’re left with your doubts.

You toss and turn in your sleep, unable to stop thinking about each of your sacrifices. You cannot ask him to leave his life behind, nor can he. What do you do when the cost of something you crave is too great?

With the silence of this house, you can hear your thoughts racing in your head. When midnight strikes and you still can’t sleep, you clean the kitchen and even take the time to dry the dishes. You hope this tires you out, but it doesn’t.

You read the book that has been forgotten on your nightstand, but the words do nothing to lull you to sleep. You’re finally able to keep your eyes closed when you play a video of him from the internet. His voice clears your worries away, and you find peace for a few moments.

You wake just as the sun rises. Getting ready for work is routine-like, but your limbs feel heavier than usual, a direct result of the lack of sleep from the night before. You sleepwalk to your clinic, passing the usual houses on your way.

However, what awaits you there startles you out of your daydream, and the horror strikes you to your core.

At first, all you see is red. When you start to recognize the words, you freeze. You’ve never been called such names before, but you feel more shocked than offended. You step towards this unfamiliar building, and you’re secretly hoping this isn’t actually your clinic.

But the key clicks into place, and the lock turns.

Your gut wrenches inside you, and you immediately drop your bag before scrambling to the back, where you grab a pile of sheets and tape. You quickly cover up the walls. You think that you hear people whispering behind you, but you try to ignore it.

After you tape the last sheet down, you turn the sign to say you’re closed, and you rush inside. As soon as the door closes, you start to breathe. Each exhale brings tears, and you have to clutch your chest to keep yourself from falling apart.

You don’t understand.

How has it come to this?

Something crumbles within you, and you feel an emptiness unlike before. It feels as if all your organs have cracked, and they fall away the way icebergs do. Your heart rate is rapid, and there is no breath that you take that can soothe this pain. Who saw it? Who did it?

You curl yourself into a ball against the front counter. The sobs feel like second nature, and stopping means halting the air in your lungs. You stay like that for what seems like hours. After a while, the words on your wall seem meaningless. But the haunting feeling that this will stain you forever lingers.

You’re afraid to go out alone, fearing what waits for you there. You think about calling him, but you can’t bring yourself to do so. He must be worried about his own life and what he plans to do next.

You spend the day with the pets, letting them roam around the clinic freely. It’s the only way for you to feel calmer. When you return home, you feel like there are eyes on you everywhere. You fold your arms over yourself as you walk, as if to protect yourself from any more heartbreak.

You skip dinner for a small sandwich. You can’t remember the last time you were ever this silent. When you can’t sleep again that night, you decide to go back to the clinic. Maybe you can clean the words out before the sun rises.

But when you arrive, you see that the sheet has been taken down. However, no panic rises within you. Because you see him there, scrubbing the red spray paint off your walls. He is quiet when he works, and he doesn’t seem to notice that you are there. You stand there for a moment, feeling an overwhelming wave of tears reaching your eyes.

You croak out his name, and he instantly turns to you. Before he can say anything, you run and wrap your arms around his waist. This time, you let yourself out on his chest. He hugs you so tightly, you feel like you can sink into him.

“I’m so sorry.” Your chest heaves with despair as he says, ”I should have been here. I’m so sorry for dropping that on you.”

“Just…” Your sobs break out of you and your hands tremble as they grasp onto his hoodie, as if you are threading yourself in. “Stay here, please.”

He doesn’t say anything, but the way he strokes the back of your head is reassuring. He holds you close until your tears slow, and your heartbeat steadies with his. He doesn’t pull away until you do, and you sit together against the wall, looking onto the empty road.

“How’d you know about this?” Your voice is small.

“I was coming to visit you, to talk about last night.” He says as he plays with the strings of his hoodie. “Was it those girls you mentioned?”

You shake your head weakly. “I’m not sure.” After a pause, you thank him. “I thought it might have been too much for you if I called.”

He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows before sighing and leaning close to you. “I’m always going to be here. Lean on me, okay?” He presses his forehead against yours, and you manage to exhale a little.

However, as much as you don’t want to think about it, you can’t help but feel stuck with what he said. Is it because there’s a twisted feeling in your stomach that says it’s not true?

You move to lean your head on his shoulder.

“So, do you have an answer for what happens when you have to go back?” When you finish asking the question, you feel your chest tighten, as if to protect the fear from reaching your heart. His chest deflates as he sighs and takes your hand in his.

“I…” He sounds like he doesn’t know how to continue. “I think that…” It’s as if you can hear his heart quicken. You stay silent to allow him the space to speak. But he stammers each time he starts, and somewhere in you, something falls.

When he still can’t speak, you sit up and turn to him before taking his hands in yours. You’re not sure if it’s to offer comfort or to mask the shaking. He looks at you with apologetic eyes, glistening with tears, sadder than the night he asked you about leaving this town.

“Never mind that.” You look up at the wall beside you and ask, “Can I help you scrub my wall?” As you say it, a smile cracks into your stiff cheeks at how funny the question is. He seems surprised by your question, but he nods anyway.

He doesn’t peep a word while both of you work. It is so unlike him, and you find yourself trying to fill the silence. You tell him about how you let all the pets free in the clinic yesterday, and how Titan seemed to look for him before staying seated on your lap. You tell him that Titan probably loves him the most, and he smiles. However, as well as he’s trying to, he isn’t hiding his sadness that well.

When you finish scrubbing, he offers to dispose of the dirty water while you clean the scrubs. When he returns, both of you wash the grime off your fingers silently in the sink. You’ve got no more stories, and you wonder what he has run out of.

After you do a last check on the pets, both of you leave. You lock the door and find him waiting for you there.

“Can I walk you home?” He finally speaks.

You smile weakly and nod.

The silence grows between both of you as you walk. All of a sudden, it feels awkward to be standing so close to him. Your body acts as if there is nothing, as if it is over.

Did anything ever start anyway or was it all just a dream?

You play with the keys in your fingers and let the tinkling fill the air. When you look at him from the corner of your eye, you notice that he isn’t trying to start a conversation either. You think that you should say something, but you have nothing else within you.

Before you realize, you’ve reached your home. Everything is the same as before, except now your heart is on the verge of breaking. You try not to think about it, and you wait for him to say something before you go in.

As you wait in front of him, silently pleading that he says what you want to hear, he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. His mouth opens to speak, and you brace yourself.

“I leave in about two weeks.” He looks up to meet your eyes. You can’t help but look away. “If you’d like, I can find out who did that to your wall before I go.” His offer is genuine, and you know him well enough to know that he comes from a place of kindness.

But it’s not what you wanted to hear.

And the disappointment blooming in your heart brings tears to your eyes.

“That’s okay.” You quickly wipe your cheeks, refusing to lift your head to look at him. “I should go. Good night.” That’s all you can say before you rush into your home and close the door behind you, almost slamming the wood. You wait until you reach your room to break.

The moon shines through your windows, and you cry.

Everything hurts. You wonder how your body can still fight this. How is your heart pumping when you can feel it shattering? And how can your lungs still heave even though the air is so thin right now?

How do you move? How do you find the way to continue despite this despair?

Your head sinks into your hands, and your knees curl into your chest. His face haunts you while you lie on the floor. This reminds you of nights in the city. It was louder there, with sirens sounding even late at night. Here, only your thoughts are heard. You lie until your cheeks dry, and you manage to peel yourself from the floor.

The days pass, and work drowns you. Your parents come back, but you barely see them. When you come home, you immediately go to your room. However, despite your efforts to hide, your mother knows her child.

One night, as you’re peeling vegetables in front of the television, she sits next to you and helps you. After a few moments, she speaks gently.

“I haven’t seen your friend in a while. Did he go back?” The pause in your breath is so subtle that she must have not noticed.

“He’s going back soon. He’s just spending more time with his family.” You lie, because you don’t want to start talking about everything. You continue peeling, and you keep your eyes trained on the glowing box in front of you.

“Ah, how is he feeling about that?” You know what she’s actually asking, and it’s about how you are doing.

You shrug. “I’m sure some part of him is excited.” You say, recalling that conversation in the shop.

“Well, I’m sure part of him is sad that he’s leaving. I would be, if I had to part with the pets.” She says and you try to seem as unbothered as possible. “You know what your grandma would say? She would tell him to move slowly.”

You remember her words. Since you were young, every time you were upset, she would tell you to move slowly. Whether it was because you fell off your bike and scraped your knee, or if you came home crying because you didn’t get the A you wanted, that was what she always said.

She used to say that moving like that tends to make you think. It allows you to sit with how you feel, and it pauses the sadness from overwhelming all of your senses. You recognize that your mother is trying to comfort you, and you acknowledge it with a nod.

“Yeah, she would say that.”

Your sadness lives in your bones, and this is just another try to crack you from within. You carry it with you when you try to sleep, walk to work, and go about your day. But just as it does, so does your grandmother’s words.

“Slowly, slowly.” She’d say as he pat your back.

Before this swallows you whole, you move like a snail. You feel everything, and you let this heavy pain settle at the pace you act.

Before you know it, almost two weeks have passed since you last saw him, and it hits you out of nowhere that he’s supposed to be leaving sometime today.

You try to ignore it and focus on Titan instead. He’s getting another vaccine shot today, and you’ll need to set his profile up so that you can put it on the adoption site. A few chatty customers come today, and you’re thankful for the distraction.

Ten minutes after closing, you finally leave the office. Your body is tired from running errands all day, and your brain is running rampant. The ache in your shoulders is numbing, but it doesn’t matter anymore when you see him.

Some of the flowers in his hand have slightly drooped to their sides, and his chest heaves as he pants. For a moment, both of you pause under this pink sky.

You open your mouth to say something, but he stops you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I left.” The words pour out of him, and you feel them reaching you. “I’m sorry for being so stupid. I’m…” He takes a step closer to you. “I won’t expect you to forgive me right now. But God, I don’t think I can live without you again.”

He calls your name, and you feel your chest tighten.

As he takes another step towards you, you try to hold his gaze. He is steady. Even when his cheeks are flushed and his clothes are untucked, his eyes plead with yours.

“Please, I take it back - my hesitation, every moment I spent doubting this and us.” He’s so close now, you feel the heat radiating off his skin. “I want to try. No, I will try. I’ll chase you again and again if it means I can have another summer with you. And another, and a lifetime of summers with you.”

You silently ask him a million questions, hoping that your hurt reaches the depths of his soul. Do you see this? Do you feel this? Why would I want this again? Then he says something that causes a rumble within you.

“I’m not making the same mistake I did during graduation.”

A memory fades into view. Caps thrown into the air, and cheers erupt around you. But all you see is his eyes on you. His lips move, just as they did the night he kissed you. He takes your hand and murmurs something, too quiet for you to hear with the roar of the crowd. You’re about to ask him to repeat it when he grins and pulls you into him. His arms cage you in, as if you are his beating heart.

“Don’t forget me.” His quiet voice somehow makes its way to you. “Wait for me and I’ll find my way back to you.”

When you pull back, his eyes shine in a different way. But you bury the memory, and you refuse to admit that you fell.

All for it to come right back to this moment.

The lines on his face have deepened, his hair has grown, and his face has matured. But his eyes pull you into a different universe, all the same, and his soul reaches for yours, all the same.

“Would you want to try…with me?” You look down at the flowers in his hand, vibrant and full of promise. You look back at him, and you realize the longing that is a mirror of your own. When you reach for his hand, a spark shoots within you.

That’s all the answer you need.

a/n: goodness me! has it been a year? i've been ultra busy and i just lost the time to write or do anything at all, to be honest. so much has changed but i don't want to stop writing so i am here. i hope you enjoy and i apologize for any mistakes. i meant for the MC (named you in this story) to be a sort of blind person that can't really pick up on these hints that the guy likes them. hopefully that came across, and i'm not sure what song would go well with this but i'd love to hear all of your thoughts. in other news, i'm working on some other things and i hope to get them out soon. thank you so much for your patience and your support, you truly are the best. leave a note if you liked it - see you soon <3

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kkkthrn · 2 days ago

Note

hi, can I request number 22 with ex!jeonghan? and can you make it fluffy please? thank you and have a nice day!

hihi anonie! of course you can, i miss hannie :( hope you'll like it, have a nice day too! 💜

prompt: “hell of defense to put on for someone you say you don’t care about anymore.”

it shouldn't matter. it really shouldn't - whatever anyone says about jeonghan is none of your business; everyone is free to have their own opinions on your ex-boyfriend and it shouldn't matter. this is what you've been telling yourself for the past ten minutes, unfortunately overhearing a rather loud conversation between two colleagues from the other department. it shouldn't matter, but anger flares up in your chest at the false accusations; yes, jeonghan is your ex, but it's unbearable to hear such mean words said about him nonetheless.

'jeonghan is many things,' you finally say out loud, making two colleagues look at you in surprise, 'he- sorry, i just heard what you were saying and just- jeonghan is many things, but intentionally cruel is not it. he never has ill intentions. never.'

the reaction you get is a stifled gasp and a raised eyebrow. you honestly did not mean to get into an argument revolving your ex-boyfriend, but it hurts you to know that someone sees jeonghan in such vile light. so without meaning to you stand up for him when colleagues start to talk back. it gets heated pretty quick, attracts attention from all other people but it was always hard for you to stop in the middle of the fight, when you're already so stressed and-

'what a show, huh?' jeonghan waltz in, acting all suave and nonchalant, although his eyes are sparkling with hidden anger.

you freeze, not expecting to see him here. both of the colleagues also pause, looking like they want the ground to swallow them whole from shame. jeonghan comes up from behidn you and his hand settles on your lower back in such a casual gesture that sparks up all of the memories from when his hand on your lower back used to be a thing you were so used to-

'you gathered quite an audience,' jeonghan glances at a fully filled kitchen. 'now that i am here, you can finally speak to me though, say everything right to my face. do you want to start?'

jeonghan's hand is still on your lower back. he still is standing next to you, his shoulder brushes yours and you can smell his perfume, the same one that you gifted him on your 6 months anniversary. you're not sure why jeonghan is standing exactly here, not sure why he's touching you - a brief thought that your presence gives him strength passes, but you push it away. it used to. but not now.

'if you can't say anything then i think it's only fair if i speak up, no?' jeonghan smiles, but his voice is anything but sweet. 'so everyone here could hear the other side of this, the true side.'

jeonghan always had a way of holding attention of the public and he does it effortlessly now too - everyone listens to his side of the story with such interest and in the end they're all on his side. throughout it all he stays close to you, his hand started to rub soothing circles on your back at some point and you didn't move away. you don't know why, but you don't move at all, listening to jeonghan as well and only when majority of the people left the kitchen you come back to the reality.

'good thing you told everyone the truth,' you say because the awkward silence started to get too much.

not looking at jeonghan, you turn to finally move away from him, when he hits you with a sudden: 'hell of defense to put on for someone you say you don’t care about anymore.'

keep going, keep walking, go away, ignore. your mind screams at you to do any of these things, but your heart is louder. you slowly turn, narrowing your eyes at him: 'you're welcome, by the way. but i will know that i shouldn't defend you next time someone else chooses to badmouth you.'

you're on the way out of the kitchen, when jeonghan grabs your wrist and stops you. 'i'm sorry, shit. it came out all wrong, i'm sorry.' he walks until he's standing in front of you and then his hands gently lay on your shoulders, squeezing them gently. 'i'm sorry, baby.'

baby. you swallow. 'you don't get to call me that anymore.'

jeonghan's expression falters and he gives you a sad chuckle. 'i never stopped calling you that in my head even after we broke up.'

you both stand there, looking at each other with the weight of all unspoken words in between. you miss him. you miss him like you never thought you would and even thought you were the one to call it off, it still hurts like a bitch. 'thank you for standing up for me,' jeonghan mutters sincerely. he tries to smile even when it comes out forced. 'you didn't have to, but you still did and... thank you. for caring.'

'i'll always care.' you say before you can think better of it.

jeonghan freezes and his eyes widen at this. your whole face burns with embarrassment and you try to move, but his hands on your shoulders prevent you from running away. 'jeonghan-'

'i will always care too,' he rushes to say, looking at with desperation. 'i care now and i always did. i will always stand up for you too, i will always love you, i will always look for you in every single room i walk in, i will always want to call you when something good or bad happens to me-'

'jeonghan,' you call again, getting emotional. you two can't possibly do this in the kitchen in your office, this can't be happening. 'i-'

'look at me and tell me that you don't love me,' he says and his hands are suddenly on your waist, pulling you so close that your noses almost touch. 'the way you were standing up for me just now... baby. my angel. my baby. tell me that you don't love me.' jeonghan's grip on you tightens and his voice wobbles a little - a rare display of vulnerability - as he mutters: 'i miss you so much it's killing me. i love you. i want you back. tell me you want it too. please. one more chance. give it to me, baby, please. i'll make it worth it.'

you were always weak for jeonghan. nothing can change the fact that jeonghan is it for you, that one person who is forever ingrained in your soul like he's your future, present and past at the same time.

'i-'

'one chance,' jeonghan repeats. his eyes shine with love and he's pleading: 'please, angel.'

it's been a lost battle since the start. you try not to cry, whispering: 'don't make me regret it, please.'

jeonghan leans in, kissing your cheek softly. 'i promise, baby. you won't.'

maybe you shouldn't. your mind screams at you to go, but your heart is again louder. you nod. 'okay.'

jeonghan kisses you like his kiss can mend your broken heart. and despite all the logic - you believe him.

a/n: i don't think this ended up being very fluffy... i'm... sorry? hope you still liked it, let me know!- nini <3

my other seventeen works are here

request your own here

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kkkthrn · 2 days ago

Note

after effects of aphrodisiacs- im a slut for hee so if you could like continue it with aftercare and the like reader gets pregnant cause he really did a number on her and if you could make him territorial (?) (its upto you if you want to make it for the rest of the members too🤷‍♀️ idm)

you wrote so slay in my first request 😭😭 literally served ate devoured cleaned😈

Naurr thank you so much queenn! <3 also, were do you get such ideas, cus can I have some of your sexy mind 🛐😫This is making me feel some things that I shouldn't on a Thursday..

Since you're such a diva (so is you're request pls I'm drooling-) Imma give you EXACTLY what you asked for, my sweet.

Hee's about to get you😈

Title: Even More Mine

Genre: Smut, Angst with Comfort, Soft Possessiveness, Breeding Kink

Warnings:

Explicit sexual content (MDNI), Breeding kink / impregnation, Aftercare (emotional + physical), Mild overstimulation, Territorial / possessive behavior, Mentions of aphrodisiacs (previous scene), Marking (hickeys/bruises), Pregnancy mention and reveal, Slight public possessiveness (non-aggressive), Dom/sub dynamics (soft dom), Language

Content Tags:

breeding kink, breeding talk, possessive partner, soft aftercare, marking, breeding obsession, creampie, oversimulation, pregnancy reveal, quiet dominance, love confession through actions, protective behavior, subtle jealousy, scent marking (clothing), public possessiveness, size difference

Pairing: Lee Heeseung × Female Reader

Summary: What started with the heat of an aphrodisiac doesn’t end when the high fades. Heeseung isn’t just relentless in bed; he’s deliberate, claiming you in the most permanent way possible. From the bruises on your hips to the quiet, grounding hand at your waist in public, his possessiveness is a constant hum under the surface. After one night of slow, intentional breeding and tender aftercare, you start to notice the signs of something more. When two pink lines confirm it, the moment you tell him is nothing like you imagined, it’s quieter, deeper, and somehow even more consuming than the night that started it all.

The room still smelled like sweat, sex, and the faint, cloying sweetness of the chocolates that started all of this. You could barely breathe, chest heaving against the mattress, legs shaking uncontrollably where Heeseung had them hooked over his shoulders. He was still inside you, thick, throbbing, and impossibly deep, grinding slow but heavy, like he was trying to make every drop of him stay there.

He wasn’t ready to stop. Not even close.

“You feel that?” His voice was ragged, breath brushing against your ear as he leaned over you. “Every time you twitch—” his hips drove forward hard, wringing out a startled moan from you, “—you pull me in deeper. Like your body’s begging me to give you more.”

Your nails dug into his biceps, but you couldn’t form words, couldn’t even beg for a break because your body was caught between pleasure and exhaustion. The aphrodisiac had burned through him like wildfire, but it was his own hunger, the need to claim you, fill you, mark you, that kept him going. His mouth grazes your temple. “You feel it, don’t you?” His tone is low, coaxing. “How deep I am. How warm you are. Your body’s ready to take it.”

A shiver runs through you. His hips shift, slow, dragging him against oversensitive flesh. It’s not about chasing his own pleasure anymore; it’s about making every inch count, about working himself in deep enough that you know what he’s putting there will stay.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, tilting your chin so your eyes meet his. His stare is unreadable, not wild like earlier, but focused, narrowed. “You know what I’m doing, right?” You swallow. “You’re… you’re—”

“Breeding you,” he finishes for you. “Filling you until it takes.” His voice drops to a whisper, and it’s worse than if he’d shouted it. “You’re going to carry me. Mine, in every way.” His hands gripped your waist hard enough to bruise. “Not enough. Not yet.” Heeseung’s thrusts picked up pace, rough and shallow, deliberately forcing his cum deeper into your overstimulated heat. “I can still feel you leaking… and I don’t fucking like it.”

It was primal. Territorial. Every groan sounded like he was staking a claim on you. His lips pressed to your jaw, your neck, then latched on hard enough to leave deep purple marks, territory only he would touch.

By the time he finally slowed, your skin was slick with sweat, your voice was wrecked from the sounds he’d pulled out of you, and you felt him twitch inside you one last time before spilling again, thick and warm. He stayed there, hips pressed flush to yours, holding you in place like he was afraid it might spill out if he moved too soon. When he finally pulled out, you whimpered at the loss, thighs instinctively trying to close. He caught them, pressing a kiss to your inner knee. “Easy, angel… let me take care of you.”

The switch was jarring, gone was the wild, relentless force, replaced with slow, gentle touches. Heeseung grabbed a warm cloth, cleaning you carefully, murmuring apologies when you flinched. His hands trembled faintly when he smoothed them over your hips, as if reality had hit him that he’d pushed you to your limit.

When you finally stirred, he sat up, arms sliding beneath your thighs and shoulders in one easy motion. You didn’t have the strength to protest when he carried you straight to the bathroom, the warmth of his chest soaking into your chilled skin. He set you on the counter first, kissing your forehead before running the water in the tub.

The water steamed as he guided you in, slipping in behind you so your back could rest against his chest. His big hands worked slowly over you with a soft washcloth, careful with the bruised spots, kissing each mark he’d left, the ones blooming along your throat, the crescents on your hips. He didn’t say sorry for them. If anything, he lingered on each one like he was proud.

When he was done, he wrapped you in the fluffiest towel he could find, carrying you back to bed. “You did so well for me,” he whispered, kissing your temple before helping you into one of his shirts. “Perfect. You’re mine… only mine.” His hoodie was next, the fabric swallowing you whole, still warm from his skin. You felt the brush of his mouth against the crown of your head as he pulled the covers up around you.

He tucked you against his chest under the blankets, big hand rubbing slow circles on your back until your breathing steadied. He didn’t fall asleep right away, just lay there, watching you like he was memorizing your face, brushing stray hair from your forehead.

It started small. The way his hand found your waist every time you were in public. The way his gaze sharpened if someone else’s lingered on you too long.

At the grocery store, you reached for something on the top shelf, and a stranger stepped forward to help, but Heeseung was already there, pressing in behind you, chest flush to your back as he plucked it down himself. “I’ve got her,” he said, with a polite smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

At a friend’s party, someone joked about how you “looked single” without him next to you. Heeseung appeared at your side like he’d been summoned, arm around your shoulders, lips at your ear. “Do I need to make it obvious?” he murmured, voice dipping dark.

Sometimes it was subtler, the way he’d leave faint marks where only you could see, or make you wear his hoodie when you went out without him. Sometimes it was not subtle at all, like pulling you into his lap in front of his friends just because someone else had looked twice.

You’d been pacing the bedroom for ten minutes, the small plastic stick clutched so tightly in your hand you thought it might snap. The two pink lines stared back at you like they’d been waiting there forever, patient and certain, even as your heartbeat ran wild. The door opened softly, and Heeseung stepped in. Hair damp from the shower, shirt hanging loose over his shoulders, he gave you that slow, lazy smile, until his eyes caught yours. You didn’t say a word, but he froze, gaze flicking down to your clenched fist.

“What’s that?” His voice was low, careful. Like he already knew but needed you to say it.

Your throat felt tight as you uncurled your fingers, showing him the test. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just held it out. He crossed the room in three long strides, taking it from you with hands that were almost too gentle for his size. His gaze locked on the result for a long moment. No dramatic gasp, no sudden words, just a deep, slow inhale that made his chest rise against you when he pulled you into him.

His lips pressed to your temple, lingering there. “Mine,” he whispered. Not a question, not just about the baby, about you, about everything. His hand slid down to your stomach, spreading wide over the spot like he could shield both of you from the world. “You’re carrying my child.”

You felt the warmth of his breath when he said it, the quiet reverence under the claim. He wasn’t shaking, but his grip on your waist was firm enough to anchor you both. He didn’t pull back to look at you. He stayed close, head bent so his forehead rested against yours. “You don’t understand,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, “I’m never letting anyone near you. Not now. Not ever.” His thumb stroked slow circles against your belly as if memorizing it already, the other hand holding the back of your neck so you couldn’t look away. “We’re making a family,” he said, and there was something raw in the way he said it, a quiet hunger beneath the softness.

When you finally managed a shaky, “Are you happy?” he almost laughed, but it was quiet, almost disbelieving. “I’m yours,” he said simply, kissing you like a promise. “And now, you’re even more mine.”

swiftjay23

Anonymous asked:

can you please write one for where sunghoon absolutley rails his innocent finace in to another dimension

Heyy hii! I a hundred percent am and you know it cus im absolutely feral for park sunghoon.

Thanks for requesting!

Title: Til the Sheets are Ruined

Pairing: Park Sunghoon × f!Reader (newlyweds)

Genre: Explicit smut, possessive husband, innocent wife corruption

Warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI — unprotected sex (m↔f), rough sex, manhandling, multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, dirty talk, bridal clothing kink, drool, praise/possessive mix, slight hair pulling, intensity from start to finish.

Your wedding had been perfect. Every detail, the way sunlight streamed through the cathedral’s stained glass, the delicate scent of white roses that clung to your dress, the way Sunghoon had looked at you like you were the only person in the universe, had felt like a dream. You’d walked down the aisle with your heart fluttering, thinking how lucky you were to be marrying someone so impossibly strong and tender at the same time. His suit was immaculate, his hair perfectly styled, but it was his eyes that had stolen your breath, dark and unwavering, filled with a hunger you hadn’t fully understood… not yet.

Vows had been exchanged in whispers and tears, promises made to protect, to cherish, to love… and when he kissed you at the end, it had been electric, leaving your knees weak. You had smiled, laughed, and clung to him, thinking your life with him couldn’t get any more perfect.

But Sunghoon had other plans.

Later, alone, the wedding glow still clinging to your skin, Sunghoon pressed you against the wall of your suite. Hands gripped your hips like he could crush you in the best way, lips smashing onto yours, teeth grazing, tongue invading, and you moaned instantly, heat pooling between your thighs. You were his, utterly his, and he was about to prove it.

And now? Now the hotel suite door clicked shut, and he actually was.

“You looked so fucking pretty today,” he muttered, voice low, already crowding you against the wall. His hands were everywhere—palming your waist, sliding under the layers of your dress, gripping at your thigh hard enough to make you gasp. “Everyone saw you walk down that aisle, but you’re mine now. Mine to touch, mine to fuck.”

The sheer force of his mouth on yours had you dizzy, lips parting on a needy sound you couldn’t hide. His tongue swept in, dominating, tasting you like he’d been starved all day—and he had been.

You barely registered him reaching for the zipper at the back of your gown before he growled, impatient, and simply shoved the skirts up to your hips instead. “I’m not waiting,” he said, voice all grit and hunger. “Been hard since you said ‘I do.’”

Your heels clicked against the polished floor as he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The moment his bulge pressed against the thin lace between your thighs, you whimpered—and that was it.

He carried you to the bed and threw you onto it, the gown fanning out around you like a halo. He stood at the foot, dark eyes raking over you, and you swore you could feel him undressing you with his gaze alone. “God, look at you,” he said, unbuckling his belt in one sharp motion. “You’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

You barely got the chance to answer before he was on you again, pushing your dress up past your waist and yanking your panties down your thighs. He dropped to his knees between your legs and spread you open like he owned you—which, after today, he did.

One slow lick from your entrance to your clit had you arching off the bed, a broken gasp falling from your lips. “H-hoon—”

“Shh,” he murmured against you, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking until your legs shook. “Let me taste my wife.”

It was relentless—the way he licked, sucked, and groaned into you like you were his last meal. By the time you came, he was gripping your hips to keep you from escaping, tongue fucking you through the aftershocks until you were trembling.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes glazed with lust. “That’s one. I’m not stopping until you can’t walk back down the aisle if you tried.”

Before you could catch your breath, he was shoving his pants down and pressing the thick, leaking head of his cock against your soaked entrance. The first push had you gasping, nails digging into his shoulders.

“So tight,” he groaned, forehead pressed to yours as he bottomed out. “My innocent little wife, taking all of me.”

The pace he set was brutal—deep, unyielding thrusts that had your gown slipping down your shoulders, beads in your hair tangling as you writhed beneath him. His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Eyes on me while I fuck you,” he demanded.

You could only nod, tears welling from the intensity, mouth falling open with every thrust.

“Feel that?” he gritted, hips slamming into yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. “That’s me making sure you remember who you belong to.”

The knot in your stomach coiled tighter and tighter until you broke with a cry, your walls clenching around him. He groaned, dropping his head to your neck. “Fuck—gonna fill you up—”

The hot rush of his release had you gasping, but he didn’t stop. Not even when you whimpered from the overstimulation. “One more,” he rasped, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. “I married you. You’re mine. I’m not letting you sleep until you’re dripping with me.”

And he didn’t.

By the time he finally collapsed beside you, your dress was halfway off, your legs refused to close, and the sheets were an absolute mess. His arm curled around your waist, pulling you into him, lips brushing your ear.

“Perfect wedding,” he murmured. “Perfect wife. Now… rest up. I’m not done with you yet.”

masterlist

⟡ @tashmonellloveskpopboybands,⟡ @yuriloveshee, ⟡ @kookiesnkim, ⟡ @picklemafia, ⟡ @add-this-to-that, ⟡ @xxjoyridingxx,⟡ @enjakey, ⟡ @noidnoentry, ⟡ @avadie, ⟡ @enhaheart8, ⟡ @yourislandgirl, ⟡ @meowwwon, ⟡ @saodk ⟡ @inlovewithparkjisung, ⟡ @verycutesyverymindful, ⟡ @fleurdelises, ⟡ @tyongielee, ⟡ @amzingjellyfish, ⟡ @enbplvr, ⟡ @6abriellaa, ⟡ @fateismoonstruck, ⟡ @artemesiareads, ⟡ @d0einheadlights, ⟡ @miuuuw, ⟡ @butwhyareyoureyessosad, ⟡ @rainofcrime, ⟡ @darkblueblueberr, ⟡ @zone444girls, ⟡ @bombombakudanmeow, ⟡ @en-cityy, ⟡ @koya2000, ⟡ @tttbearblog, ⟡ @yb763, ⟡ @freakseung2001 ⟡ @nics-fxy, ⟡ @irers, ⟡ @seungsoftly, ⟡ @iyaiyaohhh, ⟡ @xnatqq,

✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧✧༚ ˗ˏˋ 𐙚 ˎˊ˗ ༚✧

⟡ @rosepetals09, ⟡ @cherry-blossomfrag, ⟡ @mari-marimar, ⟡ @paradieseoul, ⟡ @microwavedstrawberries3, ⟡ @thatonerandomblondechick, ⟡ @heebambilee, ⟡ @simjaeyunsdoll, ⟡ @sinceresilverstrawberry, ⟡ @heeseungslefttoee, ⟡ @shayinthesims, ⟡ @larichard, ⟡ @noinspirationkisstoday, ⟡ @frenziedseerdesolation, ⟡ @wtfisgoingright, ⟡ @heekijakey, ⟡ @luvwonsito, ⟡ @cheetosthabratt, ⟡ @en-ner-jay, ⟡ @shouldergangsterrj, ⟡ @brennanmeijalover00,⟡ @wondash, ⟡ @kimuranishi, ⟡ @thep3rfectgirl25, ⟡ @doraemon02, ⟡ @rotttenhalo, ⟡ @oldeubois-blog, ⟡ @putrescentpoet, ⟡ @jinnibug, ⟡ @vayuzzz, ⟡ @kimmyaaaa, ⟡ @ppcarolina9, ⟡ @giagotthezoomies, ⟡ @numberoneheeslut

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kkkthrn · 2 days ago

Text

ONE NIGHT ONLY ✶‎ 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝖽

𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄， 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗍𝗁

❪ 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐄 ❫ ｡ enha 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 2O67────── fluff ✿‎ kissing 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 贅沢 𖥔

REBLOG ◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ FOR KISSES

LEE HEESEUNG

“stop hogging the blankets!” you grit your teeth, almost screaming as you try to save yourself from the cold.

“y/n,” heeseung sighs, hesitant to turn around, “i barely have any blanket on me.” but he does anyways, because if hypothermia has his fate tonight, let your face be his last view.

your eyebrows relax as he turns around and meets your face. he has the same expression glued on when the receptionist explained how all the rooms were occupied for the night except one, which obviously, was open to sharing. cuddling. kissing? but friends don’t do that.

“well,” you argue, pulling the edge of the blanket with all the fury of someone dead-set on survival. “this blanket is scientifically not big enough for two people. one of us has to freeze, and i’m voting you.”

“okay, okay,” he says, a low laugh curling under his breath. “i have a better idea.”

before you can argue, his arm snakes around your waist and pulls you back into him.

you land with a soft thud against his chest, eyes wide as the warmth of his body seeps into yours—every inch of you suddenly pressed into him, legs tangled, hips aligned. the blanket falls perfectly now, snug and sealed around you both. his hand slides under your shirt, palm splaying across your bare waist. your breath catches when his thumb brushes the soft curve above your hip, back and forth.

“you’re warm now, aren’t you?” he murmurs, thumb drawing lazy circles against your skin.

his lips brush against the bridge of your nose. his mouth lowers, ghosting along your jaw, until the heat of it makes your stomach twist. “you’re not cold.”

your breathe stops. you’re not, you’re burning.

PARK JONGSEONG

“this is wildly unprofessional,” you say, glaring at the single bed which mocks your situation.

jay, however, doesn’t look remotely concerned. his tie is loose, suit jacket slung over one shoulder as he tosses his briefcase onto the armchair. “relax,” he says, voice smooth, “we’re stranded because the conference hotel overbooked. not because i planned this.”

you roll your eyes, kicking off your heels. “sure, mr. park. i’m sure the ceo just happens to share a bed with his secretary.”

his mouth curves. “unless you’re worried you’ll end up in my arms.”

“you wish,” you shoot back, slipping under the covers.

but the mattress dips as he joins, warmth immediately closing in. the distance between you is too small, until his arm brushes yours, then lingers.

“you’re cold,” he says softly, like it’s an excuse, before sliding his hand over your hip and pulling you against him. your back meets his chest, every inch of him fitting perfectly, like he’s done this a hundred times.

“mr. park—” you start, but your voice catches when his palm slips under the hem of your blouse, fingers warm and slow against your waist.

“jay,” he corrects, breath grazing your ear. “it’s after hours.”

you swallow hard, the blanket now wrapped tight around you both, cocooning you in his scent and heat.

his lips ghost along your temple before he murmurs, low and certain, “you’re acting as if you’ve never kissed me before.”

your pulse stumbles, you cheeks are hot.

his thumb strokes your skin lazily, his other hand brushing your hair away from your face so he can lean in closer, close enough that you feel the smile in his next whisper.

“don’t worry,” he adds, voice dripping warmth, “i’ll remind you.”

SIM JAEYUN

what’s worse than being stuck at a hotel with your ex, you ask? having to share a bed with him, against your will.

the rain outside doesn’t let up, drumming against the window like it’s mocking you. of course the front desk had “no other rooms available.” of course the only bed in this tiny, overheated room has one blanket.

“you can’t just hog all the blankets,” you grumble, yanking at the edge.

his lazy grin appears instantly. “you mean our blankets?” he corrects, shifting closer. the dip in the mattress betrays you, rolling you into the warmth of his chest.

“jake—”

“what? it’s cold.” his voice is low, teasing. “and i’m just trying to be .. considerate.”

you’re quick to roll on your back, whispering a soft ‘good night’ in a very unenthusiastic tone, as you pray sleep comes faster along with the morning sun.

but jake falls sound asleep before you, evident from his soft snores. but then, his arm shifts. heavy and warm, it slides over your waist, pulling you toward him until your back meets the solid heat of his chest.

“jake ..” you freeze, your breathe stops as you try to move, but it only makes him pull you closer, “jake, put y-your hands off me.”

“miss you,” he groans, probably in his sleep as the words melt into each other, “y/n.. please, i need you.”

his nose brushes your hair, breath warm against your neck, and despite every reason not to, you let yourself stay.

“i miss you,” he whispers again before the blanket wraps you in a familiar heat.

PARK SUNGHOON

you throw the blanket over yourself on the couch, making a point not to look at him. the room is quiet except for the rustle of sheets as sunghoon gets comfortable in the actual bed.

“you know,” sunghoon props up on his elbow, eyeing your figure across the worn down couch. “i wouldn’t have minded sharing.

you snort. “no thanks, i’d rather be here than be in that bed with you.” you roll your eyes, better get some sleep.

he doesn’t push it, but you can hear the faint sigh as he shifts under the covers. he’s always been like this—smug, competitive, impossible to read. but for some reason, the thought of him sleeping while you curl up on a too-small couch makes something twist in his chest.

you turn on your side, determined to prove you’re perfectly fine. but the couch dips strangely, and your blanket keeps sliding off, and,

thump.

you jolt, halfway falling to the floor before strong arms scoop you up.

“what the— sunghoon!” you gasp, squirming as he effortlessly lifts you against his chest.

“stop moving,” he mutters, carrying you like you weigh nothing. “you’re going to hurt yourself.”

you glare at him, but your face is hot, and your hands end up gripping his shirt without meaning to. his scent is warm and clean, with a trace of cologne you’ve definitely noticed before but never admitted to liking.

he sets you down on the bed, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders. “there. better.”

“i didn’t agree to this,” you mumble, trying not to sink into the softness—or the heat radiating from him when he slides in beside you.

“too late,” he says, voice low as his hand rests lightly against your waist.

your breath catches when he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his chest radiating warmth as you’re pressed against it.

“don’t worry,” he whispers, a smile in his tone, “i’ll keep my side. unless .. you want to cross over.”

KIM SUNOO

“you’re telling me this is the only room left?” you glare at the peeling wallpaper, the flickering light above, and most importantly, the single bed in the middle.

sunoo leans against the doorframe like he owns the place, a smug smile curling his lips. “what’s wrong? afraid to lose to me in your sleep?”

you narrow your eyes. “this isn’t a competition.”

“everything’s a competition,” he says, dropping his bag onto the bed and sprawling across the center, leaving you barely enough space to stand. “and right now, i’m winning.”

“by hogging the bed?” you scoff, shoving at his shoulder.

he catches your wrist easily, grip warm and steady. “by getting you this close.”

you freeze, the smirk on his face infuriatingly confident. you’ve known him since childhood, always trying to outdo each other, always pushing buttons until one of you snapped. but this isn’t the same sunoo who used to trip you during soccer games. this sunoo’s eyes are darker, the curve of his mouth sharper.

“don’t tell me you’re nervous,” he murmurs, tugging gently until you lose your balance and get spun around.

before you can steady yourself, you’re crashing into his chest, breath stolen, heart thudding loud enough to drown out everything else.

his arms wrap around you automatically, holding you tight like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. your cheek presses against the warmth of his shirt, the scent of vanilla and something faintly spicy curling around you.

your knee brushes his hip, and you can feel the deliberate heat radiating between you.

“i’m not nervous,” you whisper, voice barely audible.

his hand slides to your lower back, thumb tracing slow, teasing circles. “sure,” he says, voice low and confident. “then stay right here.”

the blanket slips over you both, cocooning you in warmth and tension.

his lips brush your jaw as he leans in closer. “keep looking at me like that,” he warns, “and i might just claim victory tonight.”

YANG JUNGWON

the bed is laughably small, and you’re already wedged against the wall, trying to convince yourself you can survive the night like this. jungwon, however, doesn’t seem nearly as bothered.

“you’re going to fall,” he says, voice calm, but there’s a faint curl of amusement at the edges.

“i’ll be fine,” you mutter, tugging the blanket tighter around yourself.

he doesn’t argue. instead, the mattress dips, and before you realize what’s happening, his hands are at your waist, guiding you until you’re sprawled right on top of him.

“jungwon—” you start, palms braced against his chest, but he’s already tucking the blanket over you both with practiced ease.

“bed’s too small,” he murmurs, his tone all reason even though the smirk tugging at his lips says otherwise. “this way, you won’t roll off.”

his heartbeat is steady under your ear, the warmth of him seeping through every layer of clothing, his scent wrapping around you. clean, a little like citrus and something darker. your legs shift instinctively to find balance, but that only slots you closer, the press of his body unmistakable.

“you could’ve just asked me to move,” you grumble, though your voice comes out softer than intended.

“and miss the chance to keep you here?” he says, his fingers splaying against the small of your back, tracing idle, slow circles.

the closeness is dizzying. his breath fans against your hair, and every shift you make only earns a firmer hold, as if he’s daring you to try and leave.

“you’re comfortable, right?” he asks, low enough that it feels like a secret.

you hesitate, then nod, because the truth is you’re warmer, safer, and far too aware of the way his lips kiss the top of your head, “good. stay.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

“damn, you’re not even gonna ask me to take the bed?” riki groans in disbelief, watching you already sprawled over the bed.

“there’s only one,” you yawn, adjusting the pillow under you, “you can take the couch if you want to!”

riki could combust right now, and if you weren’t so devastatingly cute he would throw you out of the window. he rubs the bridge of his nose as he sighs.

“there is no couch, y/n.”

you blink at him, suddenly aware, guilt pricking at you. “..oh.”

before you can shuffle over to make space, riki tosses his jacket onto the chair and switches the light off. “move,” he mutters, climbing in beside you.

the bed dips, and warmth radiates instantly from his side. you stay stiff, unsure, but then his arm slides around your waist, tugging you into his chest with an ease that makes your breath hitch.

“riki—”

“don’t start,” he murmurs against your hair, already nestling his chin on top of your head. “you hogged the bed first. i’m just making sure i don’t fall off.”

your heart drums wildly, but his hold is firm, protective, as though he’d planned this all along. you try to wriggle, but his grip only tightens.

“you’re impossible,” you whisper.

he hums, voice deep and teasing. “yeah, but warm, right?”

eventually, your cheek presses against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you. his breathing evens out, but his fingers stay curled at your hip, keeping you tucked securely against him, like he never intends to let you go.

스루 ܃ for my @flwrstqr to celebrate 500 days of danisru ! i hope dani, as well as everyone enjoy this. kinda rushed with some of the members since i was literally out of ideas, sorry for that TT 🎀

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kkkthrn · 2 days ago

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MOMMA'S BACK - LEE HEESEUNG

part two of 'don't go, mama ⋮ check it, here ༄.° L.HS X READER ➤ picking up your minjae from his first day from daycare after a heavy breakdown ⋮ parent au

the moment the receptionist called for minjae, his head whipped to the door.

"... mama?" his little voice was hoarse from earlier crying, and when he rounded the corner in the teacher’s arms, his big brown eyes locked onto yours.

then his entire face lit up with startled recognition. "mama! dada!"

the teacher barely had time to set him down before minjae bolted toward them, his tiny sneakers slapping against the hallway tiles, arms outstretched, bunny swinging in one hand.

you dropped to your knees just in time to catch him, and he crashed into your chest like a storm.

“Oh, baby. oh my god, minjae” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he started crying again but this time it was not the frantic, scared sobs from this morning. these were quieter, relieved. it was like every emotion he’d been holding in had just spilled out in a single exhale.

“you came back… 엄마 왔다…” you nodded at his words, cheek pressed against his hair. "always, no matter what."

heeseung crouched beside you both, rubbing minjae’s back. “did you have fun, buddy?”

minjae didn’t answer. he only reached out with his tiny hand, gripping the front of heeseung’s hoodie with a whimper.

"i missed you so much..."

heeseung’s throat tightened. “we missed you too, minjae... so, so much.”

the teacher gave a soft smile as she approached. “he had a tough start, but he settled after a bit. stayed close to the bunny and kept whispering "mama will be here soon… mama’s coming…"

you choked on a tear, pressing a kiss to his hair. “you were so brave.”

minjae didn’t say much. he just stayed in your arms like he never wanted to be put down again.

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kkkthrn · 4 days ago

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His Battery Life

Starring: [low battery] Yoon Jeonghan × [Charger] female reader [y/n]

Side characters: Starfish, Rock, Penguins and Otters

Summary: Jeonghan is blessed with low battery life, good thing he has you.

WC: 1.1k

"Commeee hereeeee..." Jeonghan whined, dragging out the words as he squirmed deeper into the sheets, wearing the most tragic pout known to humankind.

You sighed, flicked the stove off, and stomped toward the bedroom. "Jeonghan, you need to eat something if you want energy."

He kicked his feet like a petulant child. "You are my energy. Get on the bed."

"If you wanna rest, you can rest alone," you shot back. "At least let me cook for the night, okay? I’m not doing takeout for the third night in a row."

"I don’t care," he grinned, patting the empty space beside him. "We’ll make it four nights. Get on the bed."

You crossed your arms. “Jeonghan, no. I’m not getting on that bed. I’m cooking, end of discussion.”

He sat up, hair a fluffy mess, eyes squinting at you like you’d just committed treason. “What’s the point of cooking if you’re not here to taste-test with me? The chef must dine with the king.”

“You’re not a king,” you deadpanned.

“Then I’m the patient,” he countered dramatically, collapsing back down. “And you’re my emotional support… whatever. You can’t leave a patient alone. It’s illegal.”

“That’s not how anything works,” you muttered.

He peeked over the blanket like a cat. “If you don’t get on this bed in the next ten seconds, I’ll… I’ll eat raw pasta. And you’ll have to live with that guilt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eat the pasta. Choke on it. I’ll call the ambulance.”

He gasped like you’d stabbed him. “Wow. My own soulmate wants me dead. Unreal. Get on the bed before you destroy my faith in humanity.”

You shook your head, but the corners of your lips betrayed you with a small smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“That’s why you love me,” he said, patting the spot beside him again.

You shook your head, still standing your ground. “Not happening, Jeonghan. I’m finishing dinner.”

He groaned dramatically, then went still. “Okay… fine.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. “If you don’t want to be with me, that’s okay. I’ll just… suffer here. Alone. Cold. Starving. Maybe… pass away.”

You snorted. “You are so dramatic.”

He didn’t respond. No whines. No kicks. Just… silence.

“…Jeonghan?”

Nothing.

Suspicion prickled at you, so you stepped closer to check if he was pulling another act. The second you were within reach—his arm shot out from under the blanket, snatching your wrist.

“Yah—!”

With one swift tug, he dragged you right onto the bed, the blankets swallowing you whole.

“Gotcha,” he grinned, wrapping himself around you like a smug octopus.

“Jeonghan! I told you—”

“Shhh.” He rested his head on your shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “See? Much better. Dinner can wait. I can’t.”

“You’re impossible,”

“And you’re trapped,” he whispered, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

“Jeonghan—” you started, but it was useless.

He snuggled closer… and then even closer. Every few seconds, his arm tightened around your waist like you might escape if he loosened it.

He buried his face against your chest, letting out a satisfied hum. “Mmm… this is it. My charging station.”

“Charging station—?!” you scoffed.

He tilted his head just enough to look up at you, grinning like a menace. “Yep. I run on you.” Then, without shame, he rubbed his face against you like a cat marking territory. “So warm… so soft… yep, never leaving.”

“Jeonghan, I can’t breathe—”

“Yes, you can,” he said matter-of-factly, already tucking his head back down. His voice came out muffled. “Pat my butt.”

Your brain short-circuited. “Excuse me??

“Yes.” His voice was firm, but the way he nuzzled against you made it more ridiculous than intimidating. “Pat. My. Butt.”

“Why would I—”

“Because it’s comforting!” he whined, wriggling like a restless cat. “You have nice hands. I deserve this.”

“You’re insane.”

“Pleaseeee…” He tilted his head back to give you a full view of his ridiculous pout. “Do you want me to starve and be emotionally neglected in the same night? Because that’s what’s happening right now.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine—”

Before you could finish, he grinned and wiggled his hips in victory. “Atta girl. Don’t hold back.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

You gave him one light, hesitant pat just to shut him up.

“Hmm,” he hummed contently, eyes already half-closed. “See? Therapeutic… for both of us.”

You rolled your eyes but kept going, partly because you knew he wouldn’t stop whining otherwise.

A few seconds of silence passed before he mumbled, voice low and sleepy, “You know… sea otters hold hands when they sleep so they don’t drift apart.”

You blinked down at him. “Why… are you telling me this?”

“So you don’t drift away from me,” he murmured like it was obvious, wiggling just enough to get more comfortable.

You sighed but your hand kept moving.

Another pause. “Did you know… if you cut a starfish in half… it can grow back?” His words slurred slightly, like he was fighting sleep.

“Jeonghan…”

“I could be a starfish,” he continued seriously. “If I lost half of me, I’d just grow it back. It sounds fun"

You choked on a laugh. “You’re insane.”

He ignored you, clearly drifting. “Mmm… oh, and shrimp… shrimp can see more colors than humans. Like… colors that don’t even have names.”

By now you were shaking your head with a smile you didn’t want him to see.

“And… and penguins propose with pebbles,” he whispered, his voice almost gone. “I’d give you… a rock. But… you’d probably throw it at me.”

You laughed softly. “You know me so well.”

“Mhm…” he hummed, already half-asleep, still wearing the smuggest little smile.

You looked down at him, ready to roll your eyes again… but stopped.

His face was so relaxed, lips curved in the faintest smile, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. For someone so annoyingly dramatic two minutes ago, he looked completely at peace now—like your presence was the only thing holding him together.

Something in your chest softened.

Without thinking, your free hand slid into his hair, fingertips tracing his scalp in slow, tender strokes while your other hand kept patting his buttocks in a steady rhythm.

He let out a quiet, content hum. “Mmm… that’s nice.”

You leaned down, brushing your lips over his forehead. He didn’t open his eyes, just smiled wider.

Then you pressed a kiss to his temple… the bridge of his nose… and finally his closed eyelids, lingering there for a second longer.

“Mm,” he sighed, the sound melting into a lazy chuckle. “You’re spoiling me.”

“You deserve it,” you murmured, almost surprising yourself with how gentle your voice came out.

His smile grew, slow and warm, like the sun creeping over a horizon. “Told you… you love me.”

You kissed his forehead again, softer this time, and felt him nuzzle deeper into you, his smile never fading as he let himself get lost in your care.

Yupp you are definitely his charger.

___________________________________________

#Tired jeonghan is my weekness

#Jeonghan I miss you

#Jeonghan I hope you are getting your naps

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kkkthrn · 7 days ago

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in flight | yoon jeonghan

your work as a professor of ornithology follows you home in the form of your husband and his ever-curious questions, but you don’t really mind it.

PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x f!reader

GENRE. fluff. professor!reader, very very whipped jeonghan, married au

WARNINGS. suggestive, implied sex, making out w interspersed bird facts

WORDS. 1.28k

NOTES. i love birds and i miss jeonghan. jay this is your fault for sending that picture in the gc i had to write this so i didn’t lose my ever loving shit. welcome to the most self indulgent fic i’ve written so far!!!

TAGS. @ppyopulii @callisrecords

The door is creaky as you push it open, and shuts behind you with a heavy clack. It’s silent throughout the apartment as you shrug your coat off and let your bag drop to the couch, but a quiet shuffling of fabric tells you that you’re not alone.

“Hey, honey.”

Jeonghan pads toward you with a freshly washed face, clad in his (and your) favorite hoodie. He must have gotten home not too long ago. Still late, but you suppose those are the demands of corporate life. Yours aren’t much better.

“Hi,” you say, tiredly.

He smiles warmly, allowing you to melt into his embrace. “Long day?”

“The longest.” You take in a deep breath. The scent of his face wash, his thumb brushing against your shoulder — they all hit you at once, and you welcome them. “I love my job, I really do, but…”

Jeonghan waits for you to finish your thought, patient as always. When you don’t, he merely nods and guides you to the sofa.

“It’s okay,” he assures you. “Sometimes things can become a challenge for a while. Even things you know that you love.”

You peer up at him, head resting on his shoulder. “Am I a challenge?”

“No, honey,” he chuckles, before pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “You make it the easiest thing in the world, to love you.”

“Even when I get all difficult and testy because I can’t sketch a warbler’s wing from memory?”

Jeonghan smiles. “Even then.”

You hum softly at this answer, tucking yourself even closer into your husband’s side. He shifts so you can make yourself more comfortable — you should go wash up and change, but you can’t bring yourself to get up just yet.

“What did you do today?”

“Hm?”

“If you talk about it, it might help you feel a bit better,” he reasons.

And he’s right. He only suggests this because he knows you, because you’ve been married seven years and he files away every single thing he’s ever learned about the kind of person you are.

“I taught a class,” you begin softly. “Intro to Ornithology. Just one lecture today, but it felt like it went on forever and ever.”

“Were the kids paying attention?”

“Thankfully.”

He laughs softly. “Do you still check that professor rating website?”

You snort at that. “I’m way past that now. If they hate me, they hate me. I just want them to learn things wholeheartedly and keep the lessons with them, you know.”

Jeonghan kisses the side of your forehead this time. His silent affection makes you feel like all the problems you’ve got in the world are far, far away.

“They’re lucky to have you,” he says truthfully. “Not many educators are so passionate about what they do.”

“I hope they think as highly of me as you do, then.”

You reach up to finally press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. Light, tender, warm. He smiles into it, his palm fanning over your thigh.

“Teach me something you taught them today,” he murmurs, a slightly playful edge to his voice. “Enlighten me, my love.”

You straighten then, facing him. Under the dim lights of your apartment you nearly forget what you were about to say, mind going blank as you take a moment to appreciate your husband’s gorgeous features. The gentlest eyes, the softest voice, the mischievous sparkle that is so uniquely his — a sight for sore eyes.

“We talked about flight and feathers yesterday,” you recount, shifting in your spot. “Different patterns in different species.”

“Mhm.”

“Did you know double-crested cormorants can dive up to thirty feet underwater? Their feathers don’t have the same oils as ducks and gulls. They’re not even waterfowl, actually. They’re more related to gannets and herons and the like.”

You’re straddling him now, knees on either side of his legs and your lips mere inches from his. Jeonghan is staring up at you all starry-eyed and enamored.

“You are so sexy when you talk biology,” he breathes.

This draws a sharp laugh out of your throat, just as your fingers curl into the collar of his hoodie and you pull him impossibly close. His large hands come up to rest on your hips, steadying you as he nips gently at your bottom lip.

“Go on,” he urges when you finally part for air.

His mouth trails down to your jaw, your neck, and finally your exposed collarbone, where he places a reverent kiss that makes your mind go blank.

“Yeah. Um—” A soft whine leaves your throat as Jeonghan’s teeth graze your pulse point, but his firm grasp on your waist is a reminder to stay focused. “There’s protein, in— in feathers. Keratin. The stuff in our hair. And nails.”

He smiles against your neck. “A little distracted, aren’t you, honey?”

“Jeonghan,” you sigh, keening under his gentle touch, “Jeonghan, you… What are you doing?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Must there be a reason for me to dote on my intelligent, beautiful wife?”

You’re done for. You’re helpless, under the weight of his adoring gaze, and all you can do is pull him closer for another searing kiss, letting the tension crackle and settle all around you.

Jeonghan’s fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, before he smooths them against your bare skin underneath the fabric. The warmth of his touch is a welcome burn. It sets your skin alight, makes you want more, more, more.

Suddenly, you pull away. Jeonghan’s lips are parted in confusion — he looks an adorable mess, hair a bit tousled from where you’d run your hands through it and cheeks tinged pink.

“Crows,” you say breathlessly.

“What?”

“Crows see in ultraviolet,” you repeat, keeping your palm where it’s pressed against his chest. You can feel the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat through the fabric. “Like, a bunch of shades of blue and purple instead of black.”

Jeonghan stares at you for two seconds before laughing softly, eyes shining.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, trailing his fingers up the sides of your waist. “Just thinking about how dearly I adore my wife.”

You melt into his touch, giving him a flustered smile. “Even when she’s spewing bird facts while she’s in your lap?”

“Well, I did ask her to,” he points out, amused, “but yes. Especially then.”

It’s magnetic, what you and Jeonghan have. You crave the taste of coffee that lingers on his tongue, the hint of citrus from the chapstick he uses religiously. He seems to feel the same, savoring the little sounds he’s pulling from your throat as he rubs circles into your skin.

“You are unbelievable,” are the words that leave your mouth when he pulls away to pepper your jaw with the lightest of kisses.

“I love you too,” he says fondly, watching you with all the stars in his eyes. Then that familiar twinkle reappears, and you know he’s up to something again. “How about you tell me more about crows in the comfort of our bedroom, hm?”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, in mock offense.

“Yours,” he says simply. Truthfully.

You’re shaking your head, but he’s already scooping you up in his arms, and you can’t help but laugh as you wind your arms around his neck. He stops several times along the way to kiss your cheek, your nose — anywhere he can reach, as long as he’s close to you.

Blindly, you fumble for the doorknob to swing it open, and Jeonghan kicks the door shut roughly once you’re through.

The roguish smile on his face is a promise that you’re in for a long night.

thank you for reading in flight !! love u all xx back to masterlist

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kkkthrn · 8 days ago

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Headliner - Jeonghan

Masterlist

You weren’t the one on the stage.

You weren’t the one holding the mic.

You were always in the crowd — quiet, steady, shining your light from the shadows.

But Jeonghan saw you.

Every. Single. Time.

From the very beginning, when SEVENTEEN was still grinding in tiny venues, you were there — front row, cheering like your voice alone could carry them to the stars. Jeonghan would always find you. Amid thousands of faces, his gaze drifted until it met yours. You weren’t screaming. You weren’t crying. You were just smiling — like you already believed he was someone worth the spotlight.

“Do you know how much strength that gave me?” he once said after a show, pulling you into a backstage hug that felt like a secret.

As the years passed, SEVENTEEN grew. Stadiums replaced halls. Lightsticks replaced cell phone flashes. But your smile never changed.

Jeonghan still found you in the crowd.

You didn’t want attention. You didn’t need your name in the credits. You just wanted him to shine.

But that night, at their biggest concert ever — his solo stage started differently.

Jeonghan stood alone under a single spotlight.

No music. No dancers. Just him and a mic.

He looked out into the crowd and found you.

And then he said, “This one’s for the reason I still sing.”

Gasps rippled. The members grinned knowingly from the wings. The camera panned to you — stunned, heart racing, tears threatening to fall.

And then the melody of Headliner began.

Jeonghan sang to you.

“Looking at you

My one and only treasure, I'm ready.”

As the song ended, Jeonghan walked to the edge of the stage, crouched in front of you, and whispered loud enough for the mic to catch:

“You made me who I am. Let me spend every day making you feel like the headliner.”

The crowd erupted.

You reached for his hand.

The lights didn’t just shine on him anymore — they wrapped around the both of you.

The proposal was soft. Private.

Jeonghan handed you a folded setlist from his first-ever show and said, “I want you to be the encore of my life.”

You said yes — obviously.

But then came the real problem:

SEVENTEEN wanted to plan the wedding.

Big mistake.

S.Coups insisted on being the officiant. “I led this group, I can lead you into marriage too.”

Woozi threatened to walk if they used anything but a custom-composed walk-down-the-aisle song.

Hoshi was in charge of choreography. You only asked for a simple first dance. You ended up with a flash mob and lasers.

DK and Seungkwan were on vocals — and somehow turned the wedding into a full concert setlist with encores and key changes.

Joshua kept trying to make it classy with a string quartet, but gave up when Vernon insisted the vows be written in rap form.

Mingyu was head of catering. The cake collapsed twice. He cried. You reassured him. He cried again.

Jun said he wanted a minimal role but ended up in five outfit changes and one accidental K-drama-style bouquet catch.

The8 styled you both. He was calm until he saw someone wrinkle Jeonghan’s suit, then banned them from the venue.

Dino live-streamed the whole thing, and made it trend in six countries.

And Jeonghan?

He just stood at the altar, smiling like the sun, mouthing “Worth it.” every time chaos struck.

When you finally reached him, he leaned in and whispered, “Still want the encore?”

You grinned. “Only if it’s you forever.”

Lights down. Music swells.

And somewhere in the crowd, fans held signs that read:

“The REAL headliners: Jeonghan & Yn.”

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kkkthrn · 8 days ago

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Choi Seungcheol || 3 months

Ship: Seungcheol x fem!reader Genre: newly established relationship, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, pet names (his: cheollie, hers: baby, honey) Warnings: reader has body/weight insecurities, implied mild sh a/n: my first long-ish fic! this may be hard to read for some people (in fact it was kinda hard for me to write). If you are struggling with body image issues, please know that you are not alone, and that it is what's on the inside that matters. Please stay healthy <3 In a way, i wrote cheol's reaction as how i wanted to be treated. If you are going through the same thing, I hope this brings you at least some comfort. wc: ~1.8k

You had invited your boyfriend of 3 weeks, Seuncheol, over to your apartment to have dinner, then possibly a movie marathon. You had both cleared your schedules and were looking forward to a night of no distractions, just you two, in one space. This was one of the first dates you've ever had with him. Ever since getting together, he's been wanting to go on fancy dates, or to the mall, just anywhere out with you. But, you've declined him every time, wanting to stay home instead.

You were cooking dinner in the kitchen when he walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You startled, the spatula you were holding falling on the counter.

“Oops, didn’t mean to scare you. sor-” Seungcheol had thought you were merely caught off-guard, but the expression frozen on your face and the way your entire body went stiff as he turned you around gently told him otherwise.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby?” His eyes frantically met yours, brows furrowed as he mentally reeled through everything he had done that day.

“Did something happen? Can you tell me, honey?” But you just stared at him, eyes wide. Then, softly, but somehow still distraught,

“Don’t touch me. please.”

Suddenly, Seungcheol became aware of his arms, which were still wrapped around you. He quickly dropped them, arms hovering awkwardly by his side.

What was wrong? He racked his mind, trying to figure out what he did that made you so uncomfortable. You've only been dating for a few weeks, but you seem completely fine with the small acts of physical touch between you so far. In fact, you even seemed to crave it, the way your hand always found its way into his in crowded places, the way you would brush his bangs out of his face naturally, the way the cutest, faint blush blossomed on your cheeks every time he kissed them.

Sure, you've never gone any further than chaste kisses and handholding, but surely, after a couple of weeks, you would be okay with your boyfriend putting an arm around your waist?

"Okay baby. I won't. What happened?" He wants answers, to know how to fix this.

"Just, don't touch me there. Please." With his arms away from you, your breathing slowly returned to normal, and you seemed to calm down slightly.

"I won't, I promise." There is nothing he wants more than to touch you right now, to hold you in his arms as he gently coaxes you to talk to him. But he knew that would get him nowhere.

The fact that you were fiercely independent, seemingly always confident, and caring nature was what had drawn him to you at first. Yet, despite only being your boyfriend for a while, he has been working hard on getting you to lower your defences, to let yourself be the one taken care of for once in your life. Unfortunately, he still had a long way to go, so he knew forcing you to talk would not only make you clam up, but would undo the weeks of progress he had made so far.

He had to be patient, to wait for the right timing.

✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩♬ ₊˚.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩♬ ₊⋆☾⋆⁺

The right timing turned out to be 3 hours later, when you were both on the couch, a random 90's rom-com playing. Frankly, Seungcheol doesn't know the first thing about the movie, nor could he care to know. The only thing on his mind right now was the scared look in your eyes when he had put his arms around your waist.

After the initial shock, you had acted completely normal for the rest of the night, even making little jokes here and there all throughout dinner. Sure, you had eaten almost a concerning little amount of food off your plate, but Seungcheol was so stressed, it wasn't like he didn't either.

As for Seungcheol, he was nothing but normal. Like he was scared of making you uncomfortable again, he forced himself to stop all physical contact with you completely, making sure your hands never touched when you passed him his plate of food, keeping his feet tightly tucked under the chair at the table so they would never brush against his. Even now, on the couch, he sat as far away from you as possible while still seeming 'normal', hands obediently on his thighs as he kept his gaze trained on the TV.

But Seungcheol was nothing if not an affectionate guy by nature, and not being able to hold you in his arms was just eating him alive, especially after how scared you had looked back then.

"...Baby?" Hesitantly, he tested the waters first.

"Hm? What's up, Cheol?"

Cheol. Not baby, not honey, but also not Seungcheol, or worse, Choi Seungcheol. He'll take it.

"Can we talk about what happened earlier?" There, he got it out.

"There's nothing to talk about, I don't see wh-"

"Honey, please. Don't push me away. I'm here to help you, okay?"

"Seriously, Cheol. Everything's fine."

"It's obviously not if you flinched when I tried to touch you! Please, baby, I just want to know what's wrong so I can fix it. Is it something I did? I need to know so I don't hurt you like that," He tries to reason with you.

"You didn't do anything..." You look away. You're picking at your fingers now, refusing to look at him.

"I made you flinch! What kind of boyfriend makes their partner flinch when they touch them?!"

"Just... give me 3 months, okay?" You're picking harder now. If you continue, you might start seeing blood. "I'll let you touch me in 3 months." Your voice cracks. "Please, Cheol, you'll understand why in 3 months."

Seungcheol may have promised himself to give you space, but if this conversation is going where he thinks it's going, this is where he draws the line.

"Honey..."

"Seriously, just drop it." Your harsh tone surprises both of you, but Seungcheol is the first one to snap out of it when he sees the blood forming from when you had picked your finger too hard.

If you could hurt yourself this much now, how much were you hiding from him?

Seungcheol reaches out to take your hand in his, wary as he remembers what happened the last time he made contact with you. Cradling your finger as he places a gentle but firm pressure on your figure using a piece of tissue, he looks up at you, big, worried eyes looking straight into yours, as if they could find the answers they wanted inside. "Please, baby, what'll happen in 3 months?"

Fine then, you decide. If he's the one who wanted to know, then he should be the one to deal with the aftermath.

"In 3 months, I'll lose all this extra fat, and I'll be prettier, so we can go out."

Seungcheol doesn't know how to respond to that. The way you said it with so much resolution yet devoid in your voice, the way it sounded so rehearsed, as if you've said it a thousand times beforehand, breaks his heart in ways that he didn't know was possible.

You take his silence as assent.

"I'll work hard so you can be proud that I'm your girlfriend, okay? Please just wait for 3 months," You whisper, starting to remove your hand from his. The movie continues to play in the background, long forgotten.

"No." Warm hands rush to hold yours again, gently tugging you down until you land (admittedly ungracefully) on his lap. Immediately, you stiffen, then scramble to get off. He's going to realise how heavy you are, and although you know it yourself, hearing it from his mouth will hurt you even more. "Let me go, I'm heavy!"

"No." He repeats, this time circling his arms around your waist, trapping you in his embrace. He has a pretty good understanding of what's going on now, and he'll be damned if he lets you go before he fixes this.

"Honey. I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?"

You don't respond, too busy thinking about the arm around your waist. Oh god, what does he think about you now? You shouldn't have eaten so much for dinner. Are you too heavy on his thighs? What if-

A soft, but firm kiss lands on your neck. "Baby. Baby. Just listen to me."

Okay, you can do that.

"You're not fat."

3 simple words, but hearing it out loud, from the person whose opinions you care the most, immediately makes tears spring to your eyes.

Another kiss, this time to your shoulder blades. "I don't know how you got that into your pretty head. But you're not fat, okay?"

Still, the pestering voice in your mind doesn't leave. You lean back, pinching your stomach fat between your fingers. "Don't you see this? It wouldn't hurt to lose it. You won't have to struggle to pick me up or whenever we cuddle."

A sigh. He gently turns you around in his lap. "See? You're so light. You don't need to lose weight." You bury your tear-soaked face into his neck, unwilling to meet his eyes.

One hand on the back of your head, he delicately pulls you back, forcing you to look at him. "Baby, you see these muscles?" Of course you do. What kind of silly question is that?

"These muscles aren't for decoration, you know? I don't think you should be worrying about whether I can lift you, honey." His hands have naturally found their way back to your waist, now rubbing comforting circles. You feel your stiff muscles slowly start to relax, and Seungcheol smiles internally.

"Plus, I wouldn't want you to lose this weight." He playfully pokes your waist. You start to feel self-conscious, but he quickly notices and presses a sweet kiss to your clothed stomach, your expression relaxing. "If you lose it, I wouldn't have my favourite pillow to rest my head on!"

Okay, now he's just saying nonsense. But it's working, because you feel the corners of your lips slowly turn up. That makes his eyes light up, and he tugs you impossibly closer to him.

"Jokes aside, I have so much love for you, baby. If you lose all you're weight, then I'll have less of you to love. And I think you'll combust with the amount of love I'm going to shower on you, so please don't lose any more weight, okay?"

You don't even know what to say to that, eventually settling somewhere between a sputter and a laugh. Leaning in, he pecks both of your cheeks, kissing the tears dry, then peppers kisses across your face, your smile growing wider with each one.

Once he's satisfied with his administrations, he places one last kiss on your lips, then pulls you into him once more.

You sigh. Your insecurities won't go away after tonight, but hopefully it was a very promising start.

If you enjoyed this story, check out my masterlist!

Any and all interactions will make my day <3

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kkkthrn · 9 days ago

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你是我唯一想炫耀 / 漫不经心唯有风知道

(gn reader / 638 words / fluff) a quiet morning with jeonghan

a sweet aroma welcomes YOON JEONGHAN when he stumbles into your kitchen. sunlight filters in through the opened blinds. golden rays of light stretch across the world. only a few clouds hang in the light blue expanse of the sky.

jeonghan pauses. he leans back against the wall. watches. your phone has been forgotten on the counter, the speakers quietly playing an old pop song. a pot of coffee has been pushed to the side, patiently awaiting his arrival. dishes are littered across the countertops in preparation for your breakfast.

you dance around the room, bouncing back and forth between the stove and the strawberries you had been cutting into slices. a small pile of pancakes has already accumulated on one of the plates.

pushing himself away from the wall, jeonghan wanders closer. he moves slowly, as if approaching a prey animal on high alert. you startle when his arms snake around your waist before you laugh, leaning back against his chest.

“smells good,” he says quietly. jeonghan’s lips just barely brush against your cheek before he settles his chin against your shoulder. his arms snake around your waist, slipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt. your previously steady movements falter slightly when he begins tracing miscellaneous shapes against your bare skin.

“jeonghan,” you murmur. he remains quiet, instead reaching around your side to switch the stove off with a quiet click! “what are you doing?”

jeonghan smiles brightly. there’s a hint of playful mischief in his gaze - a look you recognize all too well. he chuckles softly beneath his breath. “collecting my rent.” he leans in, pressing another chaste kiss against your cheek. then his lips brush against the tip of your nose, peppering kisses anywhere he can reach: your temple, the underside of your jaw, the corner of your mouth.

jeonghan’s trance is broken when his lips meet the side of your neck, just beneath your ear. the feeling sends shivers racing down your spine; butterflies swarm throughout your stomach as you squirm from the ticklish feeling.

laughter bubbles out of your chest before you can stop it. jeonghan continues, now pressing a kiss to your shoulder. then between your collarbones. his hands rest comfortably on your waist, keeping you trapped between his body and your countertops. “jeonghan!”

he only pulls away when your laughter fills your apartment. he can’t help the way his lips quirk upwards into a smile of his own. his fingers play with the hem of your t-shirt as your giggles die out, leaving the two of you in a comfortable silence. you reach up, gingerly pushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes and back into place.

your eyes flutter shut when he leans in, cupping your face with his hand. his thumb strokes against the edge of your jawline before he leans in, pressing his lips against your own in a sweet kiss. jeonghan’s lips feel soft against your own. you fall into an easy rhythm - one that feels as easy as breathing.

jeonghan sighs when your hand tangles into the long strands of his still-disheveled hair. the strands are soft between your fingers. his shoulders relax at the feeling, the remaining tension slowly being soothed from his sore muscles. he smells like strawberry shampoo and lavender laundry soap.

he’s still smiling softly when he pulls away. his face is flushed, tinted a soft shade of pink. it spreads across jeonghan’s cheeks and lingers at the tips of his ears. his hands rest comfortably against your hips. “is that enough for this month?”

“hm,” jeonghan pulls back, eyebrows furrowing in faux debate. beneath the sunlight, his eyes are the color of caramel brown. they crinkle at the corners when he smiles, closing the distance once again. “i’m afraid not,” he says, before catching you in yet another kiss.

notes: please leave feedback if you enjoyed!! little fic because i miss jeonghan, based on this tweet, seventeen reqs are greatly appreciated!! not proofread!! forgive any mistakes, title from THE8 - orbit

if you liked this fic, please comment, reblog, or leave feedback !! and if you want to support me, check out my seventeen masterlist <33

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kkkthrn · 9 days ago

Note

my request for your drabble event 🫶

dialogue prompt 11 + scenario prompt 9 + heeseung

I'M STILL WAITING ✮ FOR YOU RIGHT HERE

𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 。 where you heavily misunderstand your fiancee's sweet intentions for che*ting

prompt list ✸ heeseung x fem fiancee! reader 1.1k fluff slight angst(?) established relationship! au ୨୧ misunderstanding booo

nessie 🗯️ yeeeee this was so cute to write??? even if it felt a little off brand for heeseung, i see him doing this lowkey like he would be the cheesy "i wanna marry you twice" kinda fiancee so yea i love and i hope u do to demi :3

the wedding was only two days away.

the lee estate was buzzing with last-minute preparations—white roses being woven into archways, string lights strung along trees in the backyard, staff moving like clockwork. somewhere in the chaos, laughter echoed from the kitchen where friends were stealing bites of cake samples, and music trickled through open windows. everything was beautiful. perfect.

everything… except yn.

she sat on the edge of the bed in heeseung's room, her phone clutched tightly in her palm, brows drawn, heart pacing wildly in her chest. the screen was dark now, but she had stared at the same three photos for almost half an hour—blurry, slightly out of focus images she hadn’t meant to find. they were in a shared folder. heeseung must’ve accidentally synced it with the cloud.

one was of him in a suit store with a girl. not a staff member—no uniform. she was touching the lapel of his jacket, smiling. another was them laughing in what looked like a café, coffee cups between them. and the last… him leaving what seemed like a hotel hallway. alone, but the implication screamed in her mind louder than the facts.

it didn’t help that he’d been distant lately. out on errands that he wouldn’t explain. ignoring some of her texts. avoiding eye contact when she brought up the wedding guest list.

she felt sick. all the preparations for that evening's rehearsal dinner were momentarily on hold. she glanced at the navy blue dress she was to wear that evening, teeth gritting in irritation.

the knock on the door startled her. she didn’t even realize she had tears in her eyes until she wiped at them with the heel of her hand.

“hey, baby?” his voice.

her whole body went rigid. she couldn’t let him see her like this. not until she was sure. not until—

“can i come in?”

she swallowed, forcing calm. “yeah.”

heeseung pushed the door open with that same stupidly gentle smile he always wore around her. it didn’t ease her this time. it made her stomach twist.

“hi,” he said, walking in with his hands tucked in his jacket pockets. he looked good. way too good. a fitted black shirt, his folded white blazer over his forearms and hair slightly messy from the wind. like he belonged on a magazine cover instead of standing in the same room as her while her world threatened to crumble.

she stood. “where were you?” her voice was low, stiff.

he blinked. “just… out. why?”

“that’s not an answer.”

heeseung frowned, reading the sudden shift in her energy. “what’s going on?”

“i should be asking you that,” she said, stepping back instinctively. “you’ve been hiding things. lying.”

his brows pinched. “what? no, i haven’t—”

“i saw the photos, hee.” she bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t cry again. “don’t lie to me now.”

silence.

his confusion was visible. “photos?” he repeated, slowly. “what photos?”

“you. with some girl. at the suit place. the coffee shop. the hotel.” her voice cracked, and it pissed her off. “i’m not stupid.”

heeseung’s face slowly shifted—shock, then realisation, and finally, disbelief. “are you serious right now?”

“you’re the one being shady.”

“baby,” he breathed out, half laughing and half in disbelief. “you think i’m cheating on you? two days before our wedding?”

her cheeks flared up in embarrassment, hearing out loud what she was accusing him of but she stood her ground. “what else am i supposed to think? you won’t tell me where you go. you’re distant. i’m trying so hard not to spiral but—” her voice dropped, “—i can’t walk down the aisle like this. angry. humiliated.”

he stepped forward, but she flinched, and it made his face fall.

“yn,” he said, quieter now. “you’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

“no,” she said immediately. “i just didn’t want to walk down the aisle angry.”

there was a pause. a stillness in the air so thick you could cut through it.

then heeseung sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “okay,” he said softly. “come with me.”

“what?”

“i’m not explaining it here. just… come with me. please.”

against her better judgment, her feet followed him. down the staircase, out the front door, into his car. the silence between them was strained, heavy, but he didn’t hold it against her. he drove for fifteen minutes without music, without small talk. she watched the city shift around them—more lights, more movement, more questions.

and then… he pulled into a small, quiet street and stopped the car outside what looked like a boutique event space.

he got out. she followed.

inside, soft yellow lights lit up a long aisle flanked by wildflowers, photographs of them strung between trees in frames. candles. a string quartet softly rehearsing a melody in the background. and at the end of it all—an altar.

yn blinked. “what… is this?”

heeseung turned to her, eyes already glassy. “this is where i wanted to marry you. just us. no cameras. no guests. no press. just you and me.”

she stared at him, stunned.

he continued, “the girl? she’s an event planner. her name is yeri. she’s gay and married to the violinist in the corner.” he gestured behind him, and sure enough, one of the musicians smiled and waved a little awkwardly.

“i was planning a private ceremony. the morning of our actual wedding. just for us. i wanted to surprise you. i wanted something that was ours.” his voice cracked a little. “i know the big ceremony matters, and i’ll be there with my vows and my tears and everything. but i just wanted you to have something no one else could touch.”

her mouth parted. she couldn’t breathe.

“i didn’t mean to make you think i was hiding something,” he added. “and i’m sorry. i should’ve just told you.”

she took a step closer, heart in her throat. “why didn’t you?”

he looked at her with those ridiculously soft eyes. “because i didn’t want you to see it until it was perfect.”

she let out a breath. “heeseung…”

“i was trying to surprise you,” he said, voice breaking just a little. “and instead i scared you.”

she stepped into his arms so fast it made them both stumble slightly. her fingers gripped his back tightly as she buried her face in his chest.

“i’m sorry,” she mumbled. “i didn’t mean to doubt you. i just… i got scared. you mean so much to me and the idea of losing you—”

“hey.” he pulled back just enough to cup her cheeks. “i’m not going anywhere. ever.”

tears slipped down her face, and he kissed them away—first one cheek, then the other.

“i love you mr lee,” she whispered.

“i love you more, mrs lee,” he said instantly and with a smirk. “now can we please get married twice?”

she laughed through the tears, nodding. “god, yes. especially if you cry at both.”

“oh, i will,” he said dramatically. “ugly tears. loud ones.”

she snorted, and he smiled, finally relaxing. the tension had broken. the storm had passed.

and just like that, yn knew—she wasn’t walking down that aisle angry. she was walking down it to home.

ikeu05, 2025

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kkkthrn · 12 days ago

Text

pineapple on pizza? | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: dilf jeonghan, boyfriend jeonghan, jeonghan is a dad › genres: fluff, smut (18+) › word count: 9.7k

› warnings: porn with a sliver (🤏🏻) of plot, jeonghan is so down bad, he likes to dom you just a little, pussy eating, masturbation, reader is on birth control but this is not mentioned, unprotected p in v sex, breeding kink, creampies, light choking, dirty talk, daddy kink, after care. pet names: baby, babe, darling, sweetheart (hers) babe, daddy (his)

› author's note: i lost my mind and just wrote this. i never write drabbles but yoon jeonghan always changes my mind simply by existing LOL DRABBLE—THIS THING TURNED INTO A FULLY FLEDGED ONE SHOT HAHAKJDHKGJH THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE HAKJHF

› shoutout to @aeristudios for suggesting baby names, and for giving me the inspiration to do this, jskdfjh.

and to @coupsiedaisee for watching me spiral in real time for the yoon jeonghan. thanks. thank you for working out certain plot points with me and for proofing this! 🩵🥺

› disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your blog description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

It was only supposed to be a nap.

You and Yoon Jeonghan have been dating for a few months now. Ever since you met him, your life has turned around, and you’ve never felt luckier. Jeonghan walked into your life with the smoothness of a trainwreck—in the best way possible. One afternoon, you came out of work and started getting rained on out of nowhere. And he happened to be the only guy willing to share his umbrella.

You started talking, waiting for the storm to subside. He took your number, and you were surprised to receive a phone call the very next day. It wasn’t exactly easy to navigate the waters since you learned he was a single parent. Dating was hard enough already, and all of your friends thought you had lost your mind when you started dating a single parent in his thirties.

“I’m barely thirty,” he’d say with a laugh, the tips of his ears turning bright red whenever someone commented on it.

Jeonghan made things feel lighter, even if his life was a complete mess sometimes. He provided you with a sense of normalcy, a sense of security. Even though you were in your mid-twenties, sometimes you worried you were on different wavelengths. But as the months went by, you found that it was easier than breathing.

Both of you fell into a rhythm. Sometimes you’d visit him, sometimes he’d come to yours with his two-year-old strapped to his hip. You’d dine together, watch some mindless TV, or play games. And whenever he could get the chance to, he’d take you out on dates, just the two of you.

Tonight, you came to his apartment straight from work. It was pasta and pizza night, and it was one of the very first nights that you would stay so late at his house. Neither Jeonghan nor you would stay at each other’s places. You weren’t quite there yet.

Typically, you’d see him wearing his clothes from work—a button-down white shirt, black pants, slacks, belt that matched his shoes. Very clean cut in his work uniform, to the exception of the pair of wacky socks he wore—like salmon pink socks with cute little potted cacti. That’s the kind of man Jeonghan was.

But when he answered the door, you were surprised by what you saw. Sometimes you would see him wearing his uniform still, but with some bits already dishevelled, like his tie would be loose around his neck and his shirt with the buttons half-undone. No. This time, Jeonghan was wearing a white oversized white tee, with bright green shorts and a white cap on his head.

And something about it made your blood stir.

But you had to remain composed. You cleared your throat as you padded through his apartment barefoot.

“What are you cooking tonight, sir?” you asked playfully, following him into the open kitchen of his apartment.

The place was small, but perfect for him and Sohee—it felt lived in, toys scattered in the living room where most of life happened. There was a creamy white rug placed in the centre of the room, a baby chair where Sohee was hyper fixating on a bag of water and peas, while Jeonghan was busy in the kitchen.

Jeonghan eyed you briefly. A smirk broke into the frown he was previously wearing. “Cooking?” he drawled slowly as he appeared to be fighting to open a bottle of wine. “Pasta and pizza. I got up at the crack of dawn to make the spaghetti from scratch with my bare hands.”

“Oh, really?” you smirked, clearly catching on to his game.

“Yeah, obviously,” he said, masking a giggle with a cough. “What, did you think I would order food and then reheat it in the oven?”

You eyed the oven, which showed you the pizza that was currently being heated up. “I would never,” you giggled softly, pushing yourself to your tiptoes to reach for a kiss.

Jeonghan tilted his head to you, aiming for you to kiss him on the lips. But coordination between you failed. In the midst of him focusing on stopping the pasta from burning, and you standing on your tiptoes, you ended up kissing his cheek.

“Stay still,” you whined, making him chuckle. Bringing a hand to cup his cheek, you fixed him in place for you to prop a quick kiss on his lips.

Jeonghan clicked his tongue. “Kiss me properly,” he complained, pouting and knitting his eyebrows in a frown.

“Pay attention to me, then,” you argued, laughing at his reaction.

“I can’t—I’m cooking,” he emphasized with half a laugh. But then he turned the stove off, quickly placing his hands on your waist to push you back against the kitchen sink. The movement was smooth, making you think that he had wanted to do this the moment he saw you walk into the kitchen.

“You are a kitchen hazard,” he huffed, his voice low, barely audible.

“Why?” you asked, laughing softly.

He tilted his head to yours, the tip of his nose bumping against your own. “Cause you’re distracting the chef,” he whispered, joining his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, almost as if he wanted just to feel your lips with his own and nothing else. Then slowly, as he kissed you again, his tongue brushed your bottom lip ever so slightly, drawing an airy moan from you.

But then, an alarm went off, snapping him back to reality. Jeonghan tensed at the sharp sound, but leaned his forehead against yours. “Dinner’s ready.”

“I’ll get Sohee,” you whispered without opening your eyes yet.

That gained you another kiss—this one was even more brief, fleeting. But it denoted the need he had to have his lips on yours. He stepped back, though begrudgingly.

This was the only push and pull you had with Jeonghan.

In all of the months you’ve been dating, you have never gone past kissing. The only times you both have been close to doing something other than kissing were the few make-out sessions where he dared to slip his hands beneath your blouse, only to feel your back or your waist.

Yoon Jeonghan was the only man in your life who exerted control over himself.

And it was confusing at times.

Not because you questioned his affection, or his desire for you. You knew he wanted you. But for some reason, he controlled himself every time things got a little too heated. And well you… you wanted this man. More than you allowed yourself to admit.

The boyish aspect he sported as he wore his cap, the laid back look… you found it too hard to resist.

But you resisted it anyway. You skirted through the living room, through the rug cluttered with toys that told a story—a train was on the ground, surrounded by little cowboys and ponies. You smirked to yourself, knowing what story Jeonghan might’ve crafted for baby Sohee moments before he got up to get dinner ready.

You lifted Sohee from her chair, mirroring the little squeal she let out as you wrapped her in your arms. “Hi, young lady,” you cooed, smiling at her as she clapped her tiny hands together. Sohee was a perfect little girl with big bright eyes, a head full of messy black hair and the cutest smile— just like her father’s.

Jeonghan had finished setting up the small round table and was approaching you with a small towel he normally used to wipe the drool off of Sohee’s chin. “She might not be hungry, though. Apparently, she ate all of her meals at day care, not just animal crackers,” he commented with a slight but noticeably contented look on his face.

You made a shocked expression, grabbing her attention fully. “She did?” you asked, and the baby giggled at your face. “That’s awesome! Daddy must be so proud of you!”

Jeonghan blinked his gaze, shifting from his daughter’s face to yours. Now, this wasn’t the first time you called him daddy, but you were beginning to notice that it had an effect on him. His eyes widened slightly, and he seemed to stumble over his words before he even uttered them.

He ended up just smiling shyly.

“Come on, let’s put you in your chair,” you said, pretending not to have seen his reaction.

As you safely put Sohee in her highchair, she held onto your hair, making fists around the loose strands and clenching them tightly as you placed her safely.

“Sohee,” Jeonghan sighed reproachfully, catching her tiny fists around your hair before you did.

“Oh—” you muttered.

But Jeonghan was quick, grabbing Sohee’s favorite cup and placing it in front of her strategically. “Look here, Sohee!” he cooed, his tone rising in a way that made you go a little feral with cuteness aggression.

But it did the trick—Sohee instantly went for her sippy cup, silently latching her mouth to it and started drinking from it.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he muttered as you stood back. Jeonghan was standing behind you, so you bumped back against him blindly, his hand falling on your lower hip by accident.

Your whole body became alight with excitement. A little too much of it. “Yeah!” you sighed, your tone sounding too high. You cleared your throat.

If Jeonghan noticed, he did not react. “Please,” he motioned to the chair for you to sit.

You sat down beside Sohee, looking at the table as Jeonghan placed the pizza at the centre. “Hawaiian pizza?” you arched an eyebrow.

Jeonghan stopped, two empty glasses in his hands as he was just about to place them on the table. “Isn’t it your favourite?” he asked, sounding horrified.

“Yes, i-it is,” you replied, face switching into a frown. “How did you know?”

He relaxed visibly, his shoulders going slack as he resumed putting the glasses on the table, then turned to grab the bottle of wine. “Well, you told me,” he said, smirking.

“I did?” you asked.

Jeonghan joined the round table, and it was small enough that he was close to you and Sohee at the same time. “Yeah, you did. Our second date, remember?”

“Uh, yeah. Totally,” you said, not hiding the evident unseriousness in your tone.

Jeonghan huffed. “Ah, you don’t remember,” he clicked his tongue again. “Maybe you should pay more attention to me,” he emphasized jokingly.

You giggled. “You’re right, it is my favorite,” you said, leaning in to place a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for remembering.”

Jeonghan smiled shyly, looking down as you pressed your lips against his cheek. He directed a long look at you as you leaned back on your chair. “Let’s hope she likes it too,” he mumbled, cutting a small piece from his slice of pizza and pinching it with a fork.

“She might not be big on it,” you mumbled softly, looking at Jeonghan as he drove the fork in front of her face. “Not everyone likes pineapple on pizza.”

He glanced at you. “You’re right about that,” he huffed playfully.

“You don’t like it?”

He shrugged, still waiting for Sohee to take the bite. “I don’t mind it,” he replied. “I just think it changes the whole meal. A snack turned into a dessert.”

“So you think pizza is a snack?” you inquired, arching an eyebrow.

“I just don’t think it’s a meal on its own, you know? It needs to have company, like pasta,” he replied with a light smile, his gaze shifting between your face to his daughter’s as she finally took the piece of pizza into her mouth.

“Oh, moment of truth,” you muttered, completely forgetting what Jeonghan just told you.

Sohee appeared to be completely intrigued by the piece of food that had just entered her mouth. She chewed, her face progressively becoming more and more interested in swallowing just to get another mouthful immediately.

“It appears she likes it,” Jeonghan mumbled happily, exchanging a look with you.

“Of course she does,” you asserted. You gave him a confident wink. “Sohee’s like me. She has good taste.”

Jeonghan smiled, content that Sohee was liking the food she was trying for the first time. But there was more in the twinkle of his eyes as he looked at you—you were able to appreciate it.

He was happy.

After dinner, you offered to tidy the kitchen as he bathed Sohee and got her ready for bed. Usually Fridays were more relaxed for you both, since none of you had to work the next day—but something about that day had left you feeling tired, and sleepy. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was work, you didn’t know.

But you were feeling too tired to drive back home, and in all honesty, you didn’t want to leave yet.

You sat on the couch, waiting for Jeonghan as he put Sohee to bed, and then you could have a moment between you two—which was probably going to end up with you watching something on TV, occasionally stopping to kiss until it got too steamy for either of you. It was usually like this. And this rhythm had you slowly falling into a steady step—familiarity.

You realized you liked it. You could get used to it.

However, tonight, your body had other plans for you.

One moment you were waiting for Jeonghan on the sofa, shutting your eyes, and the next you opened them to find yourself in his queen-sized bed, covered with a weighted blanket.

You instantly tensed, scrambling to sit up.

Jeonghan was lying beside you, not completely asleep but not quite awake either.

The lights were off, but the curtains weren’t exactly fully closed, so you could see his face thanks to the sliver of light that slipped through the parted curtains. He lifted his eyebrows, blinking slowly at you. “Hey,” he croaked.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”

In the darkness, you saw him frown. “Why are you sorry for that?” he asked, his voice soft, laced with tiredness.

You realized that he was still wearing the same clothes, sans the cap. Now, you could see his black hair, which he kept trimmed short. You gulped. “I—” you sighed, finding no excuses to give him. “I should go home.”

Jeonghan lifted his head from the pillows, still frowning. “It’s late,” he mumbled. “And you don’t have to go. You could stay.”

The air in your lungs seemed to vanish in an instant. You knew the implications of staying the night at his place—sharing a bed with him meant you taking things to the next level. A whole more intimate level.

“Jeonghan…” you muttered, but there was no reason for you to say no. You wanted to stay. And you were aching to lie down next to him.

He noticed something in your tone, the hesitation perhaps. Because he smiled softly, stretching an arm towards you. “Come,” he whispered, motioning over to his side of the bed.

You turned over, lying down in front of him. Jeonghan received you in his arms instantly, wrapping one arm over your waist and slipping the other under you, effortlessly pulling your chest closer to his.

Your breath hitched when you felt his warmth, instinctively finding his chest with your palm and pushing some invisible inches of distance between you. It was futile.

Jeonghan started giggling, crushing his lips on your face. “You’re nervous,” he finally realized, pressing his lips repeatedly against yours. “It’s not like we’ve never slept together before.”

“No, we’ve slept naps together,” you interjected. “And on a couch. Never on a bed.”

“Imagine this as taking a longer nap,” he said, shrugging slightly.

“In a bed,” you added shakily, skirting the pads of your fingers down his chest nervously.

Jeonghan laughed, aiming for another kiss. “Mm-mmph,” he hummed against your lips.

Your pulse quickened. The kisses Jeonghan was giving you were mere pecks, lips pressing against yours repeatedly, gently. It wasn’t until a grunt escaped him, the arm perched on your waist switching so his hand could park on your lower back. He tilted his head, pushing yours so you could part your lips, giving him access.

Jeonghan had a killer factor. And it wasn’t his good looks, or that he was a great kisser, no. Yoon Jeonghan had a duality that only you knew. He could appear composed to some people, fun to others. A good father. A good co-worker. But the thing that never failed to make you want to die a little was just how sexy he could be.

And given the fact that he’d never gone past kisses made you a little crazy.

He kissed you again, now locking his lips with yours, humming into your mouth as you dared to swipe the tip of your tongue on his bottom lip. His hand slipped from your lower back, circling your waist and sliding to meet your hip. Inches closer to your bottom.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, bringing a hand to cup the side of his neck.

“Want me to stop?” he mumbled, his tone gentle and sweet.

You moved your hand from his neck, shaking your head in tiny motions as you cupped his chin. “No—just a bit longer,” you whispered, diving for another kiss.

Jeonghan returned the kiss just as heatedly, his hand on your hip pressing slightly so his fingertips dipped into the fabric of your skirt. You didn’t even realize that he’d pushed the blanket down, or had you done it?

The sweet pecks had turned into a make-out session. It became harder to breathe, your body felt heavier and hotter. His lips were losing their gentleness, his chest closer to yours to the point it was noticeable in the shift in his breathing.

He pulled away, just slightly, so he could speak. “Tell me when to stop,” he said, his tone rising a bit in desperation. As though he was getting closer to a line he wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“Just as long as you are comfortable, I’m okay,” you whispered, still unable to get a grip on your nervousness.

Now, you weren’t completely inexperienced in sex. You’ve had your fair share of experiences, multiple partners in the past. But there was something about Jeonghan, something about his kiss that melted you away completely—it made you feel like a beginner all over again.

“Me?” he whispered, chuckling softly.

“Yeah, dummy, you,” you said, frowning slightly. “I thought you didn’t want to…”

He pulled away, getting a better look at your face. “Didn’t want to what?” he asked, matching the frown on your face with his own.

“You know,” you mumbled, shrugging with reluctance. “You always pull away when the kissing gets too much, or when your hands go too far.”

He blinked. “I never realized you saw it like that,” he said, softer now.

“Well, explain to me how you think I saw it,” you mumbled, showing him a coy smile.

He seemed to slow down. “I thought you wanted to take things slowly,” he emphasized, still speaking gently.

The statement made your mind race. All the occasions that Jeonghan left you feeling a little too hot, panting, and wet have been because he thought you were the one pulling the brakes? “Jeonghan, what?” you asked, genuinely confused. “I thought you didn’t want to take things there yet,” you replied, hating yourself for speaking figuratively. Your face heated up.

He smiled fondly at you. “Really?” he mumbled, raising his eyebrows briefly as he leaned his forehead against yours. “You have no idea.”

Jeonghan kissed you again, your breath catching as his lips locked with yours. The arm that was under your body wrapped over your back, as the hand on your hip held you tightly. You never would’ve guessed what he was attempting to do, because when he turned over on his back, he brought your body with him too. Now, you were lying on top of him, your full body weight pressing down on his body.

You had no time to protest—not that you actually had something to protest. But this was the very first time you both dared to do something like this. And it wasn’t because of any kind of convictions you had, it was just because you both failed to interpret the assumed distance.

And now that he knew you also wanted him, it was as though he was released from a self-imposed prison.

Jeonghan let his hands roam free on your back, leaving your hips to press his palms on the line of your back, feeling you over your clothes. He hummed into your mouth as you continued to kiss him fervently, as though his lips were magnetic, calling you to him.

Suddenly, your clothes became too much. You wanted to get rid of his oversized t-shirt, the shorts. Everything.

And Jeonghan was thinking the same, apparently. Because his hands moved further down on your body, his fingers pinched the stiff fabric of your dress shirt from your work uniform, hiking it up so he could hide his hands beneath it.

Despite his touch being cold, you welcomed it. Your body was hot, feverish as his lips continued to explore yours, his tongue meeting your own in a seamless dance. Your heartbeat was going a mile per second, so fast and so hard you could hear it thumping in your temples. It was almost embarrassing how a simple make-out session could make you feel like you were running a marathon.

It was his effect.

“Hannie,” you called, your tone honeyed and airy.

“Should I stop now?” he asked again, and you realized from his tone that he was aroused as well. It sounded low, raspy.

“No, no,” you mumbled dumbly. “Please, just give it to me. Give me everything,” you pleaded, past caring how pathetic you sounded.

But again, you wanted this man.

Jeonghan didn’t need further confirmation.

His hands slipped from under your dress shirt down and over your skirt, fully cupping your ass over your clothes. “Sit on me,” he mumbled gruffly, swallowing hard.

You let out a strangled and tiny noise from your mouth. But you followed his instruction, moving your knees to each side of his hips—not caring that the movement was hiking your skirt up your thighs, to the point that it barely covered your butt anymore.

Jeonghan didn’t skip a beat, his hand circling your neck to motion you back on his lips. You were straddling now, so it was easier to lean over him to kiss him fully. You grabbed his face with one hand, while the other slipped on the side of his head, fingernails grazing his scalp, feeling his short hair in between your fingertips.

He moaned, the sound muffled by your mouth, reverberating in your chest. It made your blood dance, arousal sizzling under your skin, your heart race even quicker. Instinctively, you pressed your hips down, accidentally grinding your crotch against his. You could feel him through your panties, the hardening bulge beneath his shorts—its warmth.

His hands gripped you harder, motioning you to repeat that same movement by pressing your hips down on him, making you feel his growing boner. You broke the kiss, but only to feel his breath on your lips. “God, Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily.

Jeonghan knew you were nervous by your tone alone. “Tell me what you need, baby,” he told you, his voice still sounding raspy.

After hearing the word baby come out of his mouth, you could not speak past this point. All you knew was his hands on you, the very evident hard-on pressing against your crotch. And Jeonghan’s warmth, the need he had for you, all of that just robbed you of words.

But you could only utter one word. “More,” you said, already knowing that without your consent, he wouldn’t do anything.

You were sure that Jeonghan could feel your rapid pulse beneath his fingertips, his hand still parked around your neck. He motioned you to his lips again, a tiny gasp spilling from his mouth when you shifted on top of him, pressing your ass on his hardened cock. It made you moan too, the sound muffled by his mouth.

His hand slipped from your neck, fingers fumbling over the buttons of your dress shirt. The second his thumb went over the first button, your core started pulsing with need and heavy arousal.

You kissed his mouth, your hand feeling his short hair while the other one felt him up his chest. His heart was beating rapidly too. You could feel it vibrating beneath your palm. His fingers continued their descent down the buttons of your shirt, undoing each one of them with great care. Like giving you ample time to stop him if you changed your mind.

But you, on the other hand, were aching for him to get it done. To get your clothes off so you could start taking his. However, Jeonghan seemed to be taking his sweet time to the point that you began to think that he was doing it to fluster you more.

As soon as the last button of your shirt came off, you pulled back from his lips, leaning back on top of him so you could get a better view of his face. His eyes roamed all over your face and body as you let the dress shirt slip off your shoulders, taking it off your arms to then discard it somewhere on the floor.

Jeonghan’s eyes widened slightly when he saw your chest, covered only by the white lace bra that you were debating to take off at that moment. But Jeonghan sat up with you still straddling him, his hands switched from your hips to your back, palms feeling you up as he reached for the line of your bra.

He looked at your face directly, his eyes reading yours as his fingers unclasped your bra. Your skin immediately prickled, a shudder running down from your nape to your tailbone. You felt his hands move, fingers reaching the straps of your pretty bra to slide them down your shoulders, then your arms.

He paused, his eyes outlining the features of your face one more time before his gaze dived into your chest. Then he leaned over, pressing a sweet kiss on your collarbone, his wet lips brushing your skin made your eyelids flutter close.

Your mouth parted, his mouth continuing to kiss down your chest, was slowly driving you insane. “Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, the sound sweet and almost pathetic.

He responded with a moan of his own, but his sounded raspy, almost animalistic. It made your blood surge, pushing you to press down on him harder. Jeonghan grunted again, this time in protest, as though you were fighting for control, and he would not allow that.

In one motion, he flipped your body over, pressing your back against the mattress. You gasped, your eyes finding him. He never handled you with such force, let alone put you down like this, because he wanted to cage your body with his.

He made no comment about your alarmed expression, but a cheeky smile drew on his beautiful lips before he dipped his head to kiss you again. You were now lying on your back, Jeonghan was slotting his body between your thighs, which you were parting for him, careless that your skirt was already up your belly.

Jeonghan slipped his hands between the mattress and your butt, finding the zipper with his fingers all too effortlessly. It made you think that he had already located the zipper way before this, which meant he’d been looking at your ass as well. The zipper came down, and his hands quickly moved the skirt down.

“I love when you wear this,” he said gruffly, pulling away to remove the skirt from your legs. “But right now, it needs to go.”

He discarded your skirt somewhere in the bedroom, and you heard the metallic sound of the zipper hitting the floor, snapping you to reality. Your hands acted on their own, finding his oversized t-shirt and pulling it over his head, which he let you do all too willingly, even helped you with tossing the shirt to the floor as well.

You giggled softly, stretching your arms to him so he could come back to slotting his hips between your thighs. Once he pressed his bare chest with yours, you wrapped your arms around him, skirting the pads of your fingers along the line of his back, feeling his skin prickle as well.

You loved that he showed no hesitation. He wanted this as much as you did, and he wasn’t afraid to show it. He initially bristled when your fingers started dancing on his bare skin, but as he let out a brief giggle, you realized that he was just ticklish and responding to your touch.

The sound alone made you go entirely feral, if you weren’t feeling like that already. You let your hands roam on his back, searching for the waistband of his green shorts, beginning to pull them down.

But Jeonghan seized your hands, grabbing them by the wrists and pinning them up your head. “Hold them right there,” he said, his tone raspy and laced with a hint of playfulness.

You did what he said, though not by obedience alone, but because Jeonghan had caged you with his body. He lowered his hips on yours, making you feel the size of his hard cock, then the warmth of his chest against yours.

He made a trail of kisses, starting from your cheekbone to your lips, then trailing down to meet the line of your jaw, the crook of your neck and your collarbones. Then, with a fleeting glance at your face, he dipped his head to kiss your chest, kissing your boobs with such deliberation that it made you think he wanted to do this for a long time. He hummed against your skin, tasting your skin as he wrapped his mouth around your left nipple.

You winced slightly under him, but then relaxed instantly when the tip of his tongue swirled around your areola, to then suckle at it and kiss it. Then he did the same with your other nipple, now the feeling was so sweet that you closed your eyes, moaning salaciously.

Jeonghan lifted his head, shushing you softly. But then he giggled bashfully. “We don’t want to wake the baby up,” he warned you, the same spark of playfulness making a return.

“Right,” you whispered, shame tingling beneath your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Jeonghan shook his head. “No, you’re alright,” he whispered back, pushing his forehead against yours before propping a light kiss on your lips. “You’re perfect.”

Your heart shuddered. You cupped his face with your hands, meeting his lips with your own with soft pecks. “Want to keep going?” you whispered, your tone rising a little, making you sound shy.

“Yes,” he replied with determination. He swallowed hard, but then you felt him raise his eyebrows slightly. “And you?”

“Yeah,” you replied, giggling at yourself. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” you admitted.

“Mmn,” he hummed, giving you another light kiss. “If only you knew how badly I wanted you,” he replied, matching your giggle.

“You can show me now,” you told him, your tone sweet and melted in arousal for him. “I’ll be quiet.”

“But not too quiet,” he said. “I like the way you sound.”

Something came over you, like a bright light bulb going on and off inside your brain. You smiled cheekily, even though he was still leaning his forehead on yours and couldn’t see you. “Yes, daddy,” you replied.

Jeonghan let out a sigh, and you knew that he was smiling just by the sound alone. He hummed, closing the space between his mouth and yours to kiss it. “You will be the end of me,” he told you, giggling softly.

But then he wasted no time, continuing to explore your bare skin with his lips. He returned to kissing your chest, teasing your nipples with the tip of his tongue, and he did this slowly, as though getting to know how your skin tasted, how it felt on his lips. You were sure now—Yoon Jeonghan had been wanting to do this for a long time.

You remained silent, feeling too aroused and too needy to get things done to even speak. You felt as though your tongue had grown heavy in your mouth, and you were submitted to only watch and feel what Jeonghan did to you. He saw back on his knees, his fingers hooking around the waistband of your panties.

You exchanged a glance with him, and you knew that he was asking for permission just with a look. You nodded, and he started to pull your panties in his direction, taking them off your legs. You retracted your legs, lifting your knees up for him to take your panties off completely, and left them aside on the bed.

Now, you were utterly naked on his bed. For a split second, you wondered how this situation would look from afar—pitch black in the dead of night, only a sliver of streetlight seeping through a crack in the curtains. Jeonghan, half-naked and crawling on top of your body, as you welcomed him in your arms, parting your legs for him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he drawled, pushing his lips against your own. “You don’t know how many times I imagined you here with me,” he whispered coyly.

“Yeah?” you replied in kind.

“Mm-mmph,” he hummed. “So many times. And even then, all those things I thought about don’t even come close to the beauty you are in real life.”

“Hannie,” you giggled sheepishly.

He laughed against your mouth. “My pretty girl,” he said tenderly, kissing you one more time. “So perfect. And sweet.”

Your eyelids fluttered close, as he kissed the underside of your jaw, then your neck. You sighed. “All yours, daddy.”

Now, you were sure that word had an effect on him. He let out a hum against your skin, moving to kiss your collarbones, your chest, your belly. “All fucking mine,” he said aloofly, leaving wet kisses around your belly button.

The room fell silent again, all to the exception of your quiet moans and sighs, and the smacking of Jeonghan’s wet lips as he kissed your lower tummy, inching closer to where you needed him the most.

Now, part of you was finding it hard to believe what he was doing. Even if you had experiences with other people, they were never close to the man Yoon Jeonghan was. All of your past partners seemed to shrink in comparison just by the confidence he exuded—every move was deliberate despite his initial nervousness.

And you attributed that nervousness to how much he cared about this—about taking this step with you. Because you were also nervous. You had never liked someone this much. And had never even waited to have sex with someone for so long while dating.

“Hannie,” you mumbled shakily when he kissed your mound, sending you furtive glances to check in on you.

He lifted his head, and you saw his face. His lips were swollen and wet from kissing you, his eyes darkened and half-lidded with lust. “Want daddy to eat you out, baby?”

“Oh god—” you gasped. “Yes, yes, please.”

Jeonghan only smiled in response. It was a small smile, drawing on his face slowly. He said nothing, keeping his darkened gaze on you as he moved his mouth to kiss the top of your pussy.

You blinked repeatedly, mouth parting to let out a tiny moan. Your body twitched, and you laughed at your own involuntary response as his lips pressed a kiss just an inch lower. “God, Jeonghan, please just do it already,” you pleaded.

Jeonghan grabbed your thighs, holding them open as he bowed his head between them, pulling out his tongue and running it against your outer lips. The feeling was exquisite, making your back stir on his bed, and your head sink on his pillow. Your mouth fell open, and you had to clamp your palm against it to muffle a moan.

He blinked, raising his gaze to look at you briefly before he continued licking your outer lips. You noticed he was doing this to tease you only, right before he did the real thing. He licked your outer lips, kissed them and nipped them with his lips until you were a squirming mess.

“Please, please, please,” you begged over and over, sounding even more pathetic than before.

And he obliged, even if you weren’t voicing what you actually needed. Which was his mouth on your clit. But he did this slowly, working up to it. He gave you a broad stroke with his tongue in between your folds, drinking your arousal straight from your core with a pleased moan on his part.

He licked you over and over until his mouth found your swollen clit, wrapping his lips around it once, as though kissing it only. He flicked it with the tip of his tongue, only to get you to moan and thrash under him.

But he did not comment on it, even if you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was enjoying this. He brought a hand to your tummy, placing it flat against the top of your mound and then he latched his mouth around your clit again, beginning to suckle at it.

“Oh—” you gasped, leaving your mouth open wide as he teased your clit with his lips around it, sucking and pressing his wet tongue against it, moving it slightly from side to side. “God,” you cried out, squeezing your eyes shut.

He did this for a couple of minutes, only switching the pace and motion of his tongue when your moans became raunchier.

The room was soon flooded with the sounds you made and the sounds of Jeonghan’s mouth against your dripping wet pussy. Other than that, it was dead silent in the house, and you were becoming addicted to this game of sorts, of trying and failing to keep quiet. And part of you began to think that this was why Jeonghan kept edging you with his mouth.

“Daddy, I want to cum,” you told him. Running your fingertips on his scalp, feeling his short hair underneath your fingernails. “Please, help me cum,” you pleaded, your tone raw and sweet.

Your thighs were shaking. The rest of your body was so tense with arousal, you were sure you would break. But Jeonghan gave you what you so desperately wanted—sucking and licking your clit until you reached your climax. Tension broke in your body, filling you up with sweet, sweet pleasure.

Your fingers coiled around his hair, back arching as you let your orgasm consume you. “Fuck! Yes, yes, yes, Jeonghan,” you whined quietly, pleasure robbing you of sanity as you started sobbing and shaking on his bed.

He didn’t stop, not until you began panting and heaving. He left a sweet kiss on your top mound again, lifting his head from your ruined pussy. “Felt good?” he asked.

You pushed yourself to sit on the bed, hands quickly finding the waistband of his shorts and started tugging them down with shaky fingers. “Yeah. Amazing,” you sighed, not caring how pathetic you sounded.

Jeonghan was on his knees, looking at you fumble with the remainder of his clothes. He brought a hand to cup your cheek once you got rid of both his green shorts and his grey boxers. You raised your head to meet his gaze, and you knew that he just wanted to have an image of you like this.

You bent down, grabbing his hard cock with one hand and propping a prim kiss on his cockhead. You sent him a glance, moving your lips to press them on his shaft. Jeonghan was well-groomed and had a pretty cock. It was long, and the tip matched the color of his lips. And it was warm, hard and leaking precum from his slit.

His eyelids fluttered slightly. “Lay back, baby,” he whispered.

You obeyed, moving to lie back again on the pillows as he moved on his knees slowly. His gaze roved all over your naked body as he placed his hands on each side of your head, and then lowered himself to his elbows.

You ran your palms down his chest, feeling the muscle of his abdomen clenching slightly when your fingernails grazed against his skin. But he was kissing you again, as though he couldn’t go for too long without joining his lips with your own. His breathing shifted, and your fingers wrapping around his hard cock again made him groan into the kiss.

You rolled your hand on his cock, stroking him languidly as he positioned his knees on the bed, making you open your thighs wide for him. And then you guided the tip of his cock to your pussy, rubbing his cockhead up and down your wet folds just to get a reaction from him.

Jeonghan groaned, but didn’t stop you. And when his cockhead finally notched against your entrance, he pushed his hips against yours, slipping his bare cock inside you all in one go.

The kiss was broken. Your head sank on the pillows, and Jeonghan pulled back to see your face as he stuffed you full of his cock. Your eyebrows knitted, mouth parting as you let out a silent cry.

“You’re good?” he asked you softly, but his breath was ragged already.

You wanted to say yes. You felt better than you ever had in your entire life. An exhale came from your nose; you were already fucked out.

Jeonghan nudged the tip of his nose against yours. “Mn?” he hummed gently. “Baby?”

“I’m good, Jeonghan,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. “Perfect,” you mouthed.

Jeonghan giggled, starting to move. “Yes, you are, baby,” he said sweetly. “So perfect.”

You wished you could say something just as endearing. But you were quickly robbed of speech completely. Your mind had gone blank, going from the shocking orgasm Jeonghan gave you with his mouth to stuffing you full of his cock.

Jeonghan let his head fall on the crook of your neck, using your hair to muffle a raw moan as he moved his hips against yours, thrusting his cock inside you at an insanely good and steady pace.

You had closed your eyes, letting him take you however he pleased. You were too gone, melted in a puddle of arousal—it was then you realized just how wet you were. Your skin was covered in a sheen layer of sweat, your face smeared with tears of pleasure, and you could feel your pussy dripping with a mixture of your arousal and his spit. So wet in fact that every time Jeonghan moved, you could hear it.

You had started to match Jeonghan’s moans, except that he could muffle them on the curve of your neck. You were trying not to be loud, but it was proving to be a harder task than it initially was.

Jeonghan moved his head, probably thinking the same thing you were, because he crushed his mouth against yours—kissing you so passionately that all you could think was that he was trying to get you to shut up.

But he leaned his forehead against yours, breathing raggedly as his thrusts picked the pace up. “You feel so good,” he whispered shakily. “I’m not going to last long.”

“It’s okay. I want you to cum,” you replied, letting your fingers feel his skin. His back, his lats, his hips as he rolled them on top of yours.

The moan he let out this time was raspy, but he was able to drown it out in your mouth. “Where do you want me?”

Your mind spun with the question. And you knew then—you were crazy. Because you had to be. “Cum inside me,” you said, hating the sound that came from your lips. Raw, honeyed, like a whine.

Jeonghan grunted in a near-animalistic way, his thrusts stuttering in their pace, but he kept ramming his cock in and out of your pussy. “Fuck,” he whispered. And he rarely cussed when he was with you, and that was how you knew he was growing more and more desperate. Closer to his orgasm.

“Jeonghan,” you whined, knowing now that he was just as insane as you were. You cupped the back of his head with your hands, feeling his trimmed hair in between your fingers. “I want you to fill me up, daddy. Please, please.”

He let out a long, raspy moan, his breath caressing your lips as he started gasping more, pushing his hips against yours in a languid manner. You knew he was cumming inside you, and the thought of it made you moan with him, tilting your hips for him to fuck his cum deeper into you.

Jeonghan opened his hand, finding your head to caress your hair. He was panting, his chest touching your own every time he drew in air through his mouth. His thumb started moving side to side, caressing your temple.

You were shaking, hands slipping from his head, but stopped at his neck, feeling his pulse.

Then you felt his lips over yours, making you part your lips for him to have access to your mouth. His tongue rolled inside your mouth, drawing an airy moan from you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips. The act alone made your walls clench around him.

And he felt it.

Jeonghan grunted. And for a split second, you thought you were beginning to go insane because you felt him move, pushing his hips ever so slightly against yours. But no, Jeonghan was thrusting inside you again, moving his hips languidly, so slowly.

But before you could utter a question, something, he pulled back. Now sitting on his knees, Jeonghan grabbed your hips, starting to fuck you down his cock, which was beginning to harden again.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan sighed, tilting his head back but only briefly. His gaze roved all over you, from your face to your body and down your pussy, where his cum was spilling out of your swollen and tight entrance.

You could only look at him. He had a fucked out look on his face, and you realized that his skin was also covered in a sheen film of sweat. Your gaze trailed down to his abdomen and the way it contracted slightly with each thrust of his hips against yours, to then his happy trail leading down his pubic hair, which was smeared with a creamy white string of your arousal. And he was also looking at you, where your bodies joined, where his cum was dripping out.

His cock slipped out of you, making you both emit a sound at the same time. You smiled softly at him, and he mirrored your smile back. He grabbed his cock, coated with his cum and your juices, only to drive it back in your pussy, pushing his cum deep inside your walls.

Your entire body was overtaken with an intense shudder. Jeonghan kept fucking you like this, moving your hips to meet his rapid thrusts. He was beginning to look tired, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing one of your thighs with one hand and hiking it up his shoulder.

You whined at the change in position, now you could feel his cock reaching deeper inside you at each thrust.

“Fuck,” he whispered tiredly, letting his head tilt back. “You feel so good, baby,” he repeated. “You’re squeezing me so good.”

You could only moan in response, which made Jeonghan smile, turning his face to press a kiss on the inner side of your knee. The feeling of his lips on your skin only intensified the pleasure building inside you.

“Jeonghan,” you called.

“Yes, baby?”

“Fuck me harder,” you pleaded.

It was at that moment you knew—you could never let go of this man. Because Yoon Jeonghan smiled at your request and gave in anyway. He grabbed your other leg and hiked it on his shoulder, now fucking you harder, driving his cock inside you deeper.

You let out a whine. The deeper he went inside you, the closer you felt to your second orgasm. And this time it was quicker, being so stimulated that pleasure built easily in your body. But it was the whole situation that drove you insane—trying to keep quiet while Jeonghan rammed his cock inside you, his cum spilling out of you, headboard slamming softly against the wall, everything.

“Jeonghan!” you gasped, a strangled noise coming out of you as your second orgasm barreled down your spine, so hard you had to squeeze your eyes shut and clench the blanket with your hands.

He let out a sound through gritted teeth, and you knew by the way his thrusts slowed down that he was cumming with you, too. “Fuck,” he whispered, thrusting tiredly now, sloppily. He eased your legs back to the bed, crawling back on top of your body to kiss you again.

The kiss was languid, heavy with the need to rest and go back to sleep. But you were both latched to each other, kissing passionately despite the urge to breathe properly again. You were tired, yes, but were also happy beyond belief.

You cupped his cheek as he broke the kiss with a gasp. “You okay?” he asked.

You giggled. “You have to stop asking me that,” you replied, caressing his cheek with your thumb. “Yes, Hannie. I’m okay.”

He blinked slowly, bumping the tip of your nose with his own. “Do you want to sleep now?”

You nodded. “Definitely,” you said.

Jeonghan smiled fondly at you. “Okay. But before that, let me take care of you. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone tiny and so sweet.

It made Jeonghan smile. “Alright,” he said, kissing you one more time before he peeled his body off of yours.

He climbed off the bed and walked to the bathroom. Moments later, you heard the water from the shower running. As he came back to the bedroom, you got a better view of your boyfriend. He was glorious—wholly naked, fucked out look on his face. And all yours.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said as soon as he noticed you, smiling knowingly.

“What? What look?” you asked, playing coy.

He leaned over the bed, placing his hands at each side of your face. “The kind of look that makes me want to climb up here and keep making love to you all night long.”

You giggled amusedly. “Jeonghan, you’re threatening me with a good time.”

He smirked. “Oh, darling. And I haven’t even started with you,” he said, pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

A tingling sensation shot down, straight to your core.

Jeonghan must’ve caught a reaction on your face, because he only giggled. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Once back in the bedroom, your tummy twisted anxiously when you saw the aftermath of what you had done—clothes scattered on the floor, the blanket tousled on one side of the bed and the messy covers and pillows.

You began to pick the clothes from the floor, gathering them in a neat pile while Jeonghan checked in on Sohee quickly. When he came back, your tummy fluttered again. He looked different, recently showered and ready to sleep, a different side to his confident face.

He had given you a t-shirt to wear and also offered to lend you sweatpants, which you declined, given that his t-shirt was already oversized and almost reached your knees.

A part of you felt different now. Not bad, exactly. Like you had reached the end of a chapter and were now beginning another. You and Jeonghan had had this routine of sorts for months before you started a sexual relationship, but it just felt so different now. It made you nervous.

Would he look at you differently now?

“Is something wrong?” Jeonghan asked, the sound of his voice snapping you out of your thoughts.

Jeonghan was opening the bedcovers and sheets for you both, motioning you over with his head.

“No. Nothing’s wrong,” you replied, trying your best to mask your self-doubt. You crossed the bedroom and slipped into the bed.

When Jeonghan clicked his tongue, you realized that you had taken a space that was far from his usual spot on his bed. “Come here,” he giggled softly, noticing your shyness now.

“Sorry,” you whispered, cuddling up to him. “Force of habit.”

“Mmn, yeah,” he muttered, looking at you as you leaned your head on his shoulder. He emitted a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around you. “Not anymore. Mkay?”

“Okay,” you replied, letting your worries go.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

You moved your head on his chest to look at him briefly. “Of course.”

“Why did you think I wanted to take things slow?” he asked. His tone was soft, quiet.

You blinked. “Because I thought you didn’t want to risk things changing between us…” You trailed off. “You know? You have a lot on your plate with Sohee and your ex.”

The last word spilled from you like a curse.

You and Jeonghan always skirted around that topic of conversation. All you knew was that Jeonghan had a very fleeting relationship with Sohee’s mother, and it ended up with her getting pregnant. Jeonghan had full custody of Sohee, and you had also come to learn that his ex only liked to appear in both Jeonghan’s and Sohee’s lives sporadically. But on those occasions, she always seemed to make it a living hell for him.

Jeonghan blinked, and you knew your words had left a heavy impact on him.

Your heart squeezed. “I shouldn’t have,” you added nervously, looking away. “I’m so sorry.”

A pause.

Jeonghan slipped his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet your eye again. “No,” he mumbled. “We can talk about it.”

“Okay,” you whispered shakily.

“I don’t want you to think that there are things we can’t talk about, you know?” he said, worry beginning to set into the features of his face. “And maybe I’m to blame here, because I didn’t want to bombard you with my stuff.”

“What do you mean?” you said.

Jeonghan sighed, and it wasn’t out of tiredness or exasperation. He was looking for the words to say. “When I met you, I was terrified of some things. I debated whether to tell you about Sohee on the first date. I just didn’t want to say something that would scare you away,” he lowered his gaze briefly. “And I debated even more on telling you about my ex.”

“But you did tell me about Sohee on our first date,” you reminded him, frowning a little. “And about your ex on our second date.”

Jeonghan smirked slowly. “So you do remember our second date.”

“Of course I do, dummy,” you said. And then it clicked. You didn’t remember telling Jeonghan about your favorite kind of pizza because he had just told you about his evil ex. And that was his way of changing the topic. “I must’ve been digesting a lot of information while we talked about Hawaiian pizza, you know?”

He offered you a solemn look. “And you still stuck around. You could’ve walked away, but you didn’t,” he whispered, looking at you longingly. “You still haven’t.”

You parted your mouth. “I don’t think I want to, Jeonghan,” you replied in kind.

His gaze softened. “If something happens, will you talk about it with me?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” you mouthed. “Can I ask you now?”

Jeonghan nodded, blinking at you sleepily.

“Why did you think I wanted to take things slow?”

“Same thing,” he responded reluctantly at first. He let out a sigh. “I thought you didn’t want things to get messy, you know? I have a kid and I’m alone in this. I didn’t want to hold it against you if you didn’t want to get sexually involved with me.”

A smile broke into the features of your face. You pushed yourself up to kiss him tenderly. “You’re such a dummy,” you whispered.

“Me?” he giggled, holding you closer so he could press another kiss on your lips. “What did I do?”

“I’ve wanted you from the moment we met,” you told him, and it was the truth.

“How was I supposed to know?” he said, clearly clueless.

“I thought you always noticed,” you said, still in disbelief.

“But you never said anything.”

“Jeonghan,” you deadpanned. “I really like you. Like really, really like you.”

He smiled sheepishly, blinking slowly. “Well, I know that. I really like you too. I just wanted to wait until you felt ready to take things to the next level.”

“Babe, I literally called you daddy and let you cum inside me not only once, but twice,” you told him with a flat tone.

Jeonghan almost choked on his laughter. “Sweetheart! You can’t just say those things,” he said, sounding both scandalized and amused.

“Why not?” you said, clicking your tongue. “You’re always saying weird stuff as well.”

“Really?” he said, and you nodded at him. “Am I weird?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, I’m weird then,” he said with a faux defeated tone.

“You’re weird like pizza on pineapple,” you said. “Sweet and salty at the same time.”

He emitted a low chuckle. “That’s really corny, babe. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you. I work hard on my metaphors,” you replied primly.

“I’ll give this metaphor a seven out of ten,” he smirked.

You gasped. “Admit it, you love my metaphors.”

“Yeah, like I love pizza on pineapple,” he said, letting the sarcasm coat his words. He brushed his fingers down the line of your jaw, looking at you fondly. “You’re weird too.”

“The kind of weird that matches yours,” you said confidently.

Jeonghan smirked, closing the space between his lips and yours. “Absolutely.”

› author's note pt. 2: i need to give him a kid. or kids, plural. like asap, please. i'm begging 😭

i literally wrote this in between calls from work. like it literally took me 24 hours to write this, no joke. jeonghan just drives me insane. i have no explanation for this 🧍🏻‍♀️ i might just be ovulating but let's be real — i'm always thinking about jeonghan, and right now the baby fever is going wild. you'll see in future fics lololol

i want to thank you all for being here and for reading so far!! i recently gave away 25 free spots on my patreon!! i'm so excited hehe, i might giveaway more spots in the future! thank you guys for joining! 🥺🩵

i love you all! thank you for reading!

toodles!

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kkkthrn · 12 days ago

Text

“a sunday afternoon.” ₍ y.jh ₎

───── ABOUT a sunday afternoon spent in an RV sounds unreal. But nothing can beat the feeling of having a sleepy Jeonghan by your side.

⋆ 𝒘𝒄: 0.5k ⋆ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff, est. rs, comfort ⋆ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf!jh x gn!reader ⋆ 𝒄𝒘: alots of skinship, and nothing else I suppose

A/N: wrote this decades ago 😔💔 MOTIVATION WHERE ARE YOUU I'm so sorry I rlly need to be active

( 🎧 — chocolate by VU )

Sunday afternoons spent in an RV almost sounds like a cozy dream.

Especially when the dream includes an ethereal view of an orange-painted afternoon sky from the tiny window by the bed, the smell of fresh oranges and vanilla in the air. And most importantly, a very adorable sleepy Jeonghan who struggles to find a comfortable position to sleep in.

“What’s wrong, Hannie?" You ask softly, watching as the man beside you grunts yet again and scoots impossibly close, burying his head on your neck with a deep, exhausted sigh.

You feel his pout touching your skin as you ask, then he slowly, almost lazily, raises his gaze. His brown almond eyes were barely opening, seeming desperate for sleep. His hair was tangled and messy in the cutest way possible, and the slightly oversized shirt that ended up disheveled from all the tossing and turning.

“It’s really uncomfy…” he mumbled with a raspy and sleepy voice that was barely above a whisper. A quick sigh left his lips as soon as he said that, as if he used all his remaining energy to respond to you. He dropped his head on your shoulder, already closing his eyes.

You ran your fingers through his slight curly, short hair in an attempt to help him sleep, but he moved again, trying to bury his face further into your neck.

“Just stay still, Hannie,” you say, adjusting your position according to his comfort. He hummed softly, then you felt him lean against you more and his breathing became heavier— slower and relaxed. Just when you thought Jeonghan had finally drifted off to sleep, he jolted up suddenly, his hands pushed against the bed on either side of you as he looked at you with a pout.

“I— what happened? It's still uncomfortable?” You flinch, staring at the man on top of you with wide concerned eyes. He huffed out a breath, exhausted and his eyes almost red with much needed sleep. You couldn't help the way your heart tugged at the sight of his helpless state.

“I'm so sorry, love,” you whisper, lifting your head to softly peck one of his eyes. He froze for a moment, then pointed to his other eye, silently asking for a peck there too. You smiled softly, one of your hands travelling to the back of his head to caress it as you gladly pecked his other eye with the same tenderness.

Jeonghan’s lips twitched into a faint, tired smile and he closed his eyes, gently dropping on top of you again. His head rested on your chest, his hand encircled your waist and his pouty lips were now smiling.

“Hey, I love you but you're literally all over me, Hannie.” You laugh as he tightens his grip more after you say that.

“Please deal with it for now.” Jeonghan murmurs sweetly, too adorably for you to deny. You gradually feel his body pressing against you more firmly as his breathing becomes slower and steady. He finally fell asleep.

Your hands caress his hair gently before you lean down to peck his forehead.

Your favourite moments might be whenever he isn't always arguing to be the bigger spoon during cuddles and is tired enough to let you win. You love this man so much.

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kkkthrn · 13 days ago

Text

𝜗℘ JUNO

❛ 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤�� 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴? 𝘪 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘰. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵— 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩? 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. ❜

timeline: 2025

synopsis: Luna and Jeonghan spend a chaotic yet heartwarming day babysitting her cousin’s one-year-old daughter, Bomi, which stirs up unexpected feelings of longing and tenderness as they imagine their own future family together.

wc: 8.4k

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, and more fluff, baby fever galore, domestic!JeongNa, playful banter, cuteness aggressions, chaos, just baby stuff, Luna wants a baby, a sprinkle of suggestiveness at the end

d-2 before our 1st year Anniversary! ta-da!! it has been MONTHS since i teased this one-shot and it has been sitting in my drafts for sooo long, it was catching cobwebs. anyway! my first one-shot after my hiatus and honestly, i missed this! i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i do!! happy reading, my lovelies! ☺️🤍

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

The sun had only just begun to rise, a gentle wash of amber light creeping through the sheer curtains draped across the bedroom windows. It spilled slowly into the room, casting soft golden patterns on the wooden floors and catching on the dust motes that danced lazily in the still morning air.

The world was quiet… too quiet for a Saturday, especially in this apartment, especially when both Luna and Jeonghan had nothing on their schedules.

It was rare, truly rare, for the two of them to have a Saturday off together.

Luna stirred beneath the weight of the blankets, cocooned in the warmth of their bed. Her cheek was pressed against her pillow, one leg kicked slightly out of the duvet like a sleepy declaration of rebellion.

Normally, she would have kept sleeping. Normally, she did keep sleeping. Saturdays were sacred in their home, reserved for sleep so deep it turned into an art form.

No alarms. No early calls. No rigid schedules or rehearsals. Not even breakfast could coax them out of bed until sometime past noon, and even then, it was usually only because their stomachs began to grumble in protest.

And if hunger didn’t get to them?

Well, they had once slept the entire day away— sunset to sunset, only rising when the night had taken over and the city lights blinked through the curtains. But that was a story for another day.

Today, however, was different.

Luna’s eyes blinked open long before her body moved. The bedroom was still dim, the soft hum of the house muffled and peaceful, but her mind was already wide awake. There was no grogginess, no sleepy haze to shake off. Instead, there was a quiet, fluttering kind of excitement blooming in her chest— something bright and eager that refused to let her sink back into slumber.

She shifted slowly, careful not to disturb the weight beside her.

Jeonghan lay sprawled on his side, face half-buried in his pillow, breathing slow and even. His hair was a soft mess standing up, lips parted just slightly, lashes dark and long against his skin. It was the face of a man who had been granted a rare reprieve from the structured life of his 9-to-5 office work for his military service— a weekend break he had earned and cherished, where for once, there were no uniforms to wear, no briefings to attend, no walls to stand against for hours at a time.

Luna smiled softly to herself. On weekends like these, when both of their calendars aligned in perfect harmony— they’d sink into sleep like they had been made for it. Sometimes tangled together, other times in opposite directions, limbs spread out, and blankets stolen in quiet combat. But always peaceful. Always full of warmth.

And yet, here she was. Awake before the sun had fully risen. Awake before him.

She turned her head toward the nightstand, checking the digital clock.

6:42 a.m.

A crime against everything they believed in when it came to weekends.

But Luna felt none of the usual resentment for being awake this early. Instead, her heart fluttered again, this time more insistently, as she quietly eased herself up from the mattress, careful not to jostle Jeonghan’s side of the bed.

Today was important.

A few days ago, her cousin had called her out of the blue. Luna remembered it clearly— she had just wrapped up a schedule, sitting on the couch with a face mask halfway sliding off her cheek, when her phone buzzed with the call. Her cousin’s voice was frantic but hopeful, filled with both apology and hopefulness.

She and her husband were planning to spend the whole day together for their wedding anniversary. Not just dinner or a movie— no, they wanted a full day. Just the two of them. Breakfast, lunch, massages, dinner, and everything in between. A whole date.

And they needed someone they trusted— someone gentle, attentive, playful, responsible. Someone who adored their baby like their own.

Luna hadn’t even let her cousin finish.

“Of course,” she had said, her voice already bubbling with excitement. “Are you kidding? I’d love to. Seriously. Bring her over. We’ll take care of everything.”

Jeonghan, who had been in the kitchen at the time, had peeked in and raised an eyebrow.

“She wants us to babysit Bomi,” Luna had relayed to him. “All day.”

Jeonghan didn’t even hesitate. He nodded, gave a thumbs-up, and shouted from the kitchen, “Tell her I already bought snacks!”

The decision had been made that fast. No overthinking. No second-guessing. Just an immediate, wholehearted yes.

And now, the day had finally arrived.

Technically, they weren’t expecting Bomi until later that morning, probably around nine but Luna had woken up far earlier than needed.

The anticipation had stirred her awake like a little kid waiting for a birthday party. She didn’t even need coffee. The thought of spending the whole day with that cute little munchkin— getting to cuddle her, play with her, feed her, change her tiny outfits, was enough adrenaline to last her a week.

Normally, she never had the time. Her schedule was always packed, sometimes down to the minute, and while she always made time for family when she could, this kind of uninterrupted time? A whole day?

It was rare. And she planned to soak up every second of it.

Luna padded softly across the room, stretching her arms over her head as she tiptoed toward the bathroom. Their home was quiet, still wrapped in that early morning stillness, and yet she could already feel the energy buzzing beneath her skin.

After washing her face and brushing her teeth to officially start the day, she made her way to the kitchen.

The kitchen filled slowly with the warmth of a slow, golden morning. Pale sunlight filtered through the open blinds, kissing the countertops and casting soft stripes across the hardwood floor. The air smelled of coffee and toasted bread, something comforting and sweet humming quietly beneath it all, syrup maybe, or the melted butter warming in the pan.

Luna moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, barefoot in oversized pajama pants and a tank top, her hair swept up messily as she stirred a pan of softly scrambled eggs. Her movements were light, almost humming with anticipation, the kind of quiet excitement that buzzed in her fingertips and made her extra attentive, flipping the scrambled eggs at just the right moment, plating everything neatly, even folding the napkins like it was a holiday.

Breakfast for two.

Jeonghan was still asleep, of course. Dead to the world after another full week of duty. She hadn’t had the heart to wake him. The poor man had stumbled into bed last night and hadn’t moved since. His military weekends off were sacred and Luna knew just how deeply he treasured them.

And today he will be spending it with Luna and a little munchkin.

Luna grinned at the thought, practically bouncing on her heels as she set down the plates, one for her and one waiting for Jeonghan, who would no doubt stumble in half-conscious and mumbling for coffee the moment the food hit his nose.

She glanced at the clock on the wall— 7:56 a.m. They weren’t supposed to arrive until 9:00. But that didn’t stop her from checking the window for the fifth time that morning, heart already doing a ridiculous little flutter every time a car passed by outside.

The spatula had barely touched the edge of the pan when…

BEEP.

The sharp sound of the intercom rang through the quiet house, and Luna nearly jumped out of her skin. Her whole body startled, eyes flying open in surprise and then she squealed.

A short, high-pitched sound of pure excitement escaped her lips as she tossed the spatula onto the plate and bolted from the kitchen. Her feet slid slightly against the wooden floor as she practically skated to the small device mounted on the wall near the door.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God—” she gasped under her breath, smacking the intercom button with more force than necessary. She leaned in close, grinning from ear to ear. “Hi! Come on in, I’m buzzing you now!”

The moment she pressed the second button, the sound of the gate outside clicking open echoed faintly through the house. Luna spun on her heel and dashed to the front door, swinging it open so fast the doorknob hit the wall with a soft thud.

Outside, the quiet morning air had already started to warm. She stepped out onto, squinting slightly against the sunlight just in time to see a silver car slowly pulling into the driveway.

The passenger door was already opening as her cousin stepped out, holding a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Her husband waved from the driver’s seat with a warm smile before moving to the trunk to retrieve the rest of the baby gear which turned out to be far more than Luna expected.

He pulled out a folded stroller, then a second bag, then another cloth tote with what looked like a blanket sticking out the top. Luna laughed softly, shaking her head.

“You brought everything but the crib,” she called out as they approached.

Her cousin grinned, already walking toward the passenger side of the car. “Don’t tempt me. I considered it.”

She opened the door, leaning in to start unbuckling the car seat inside.

Luna padded down the steps, nearly vibrating with anticipation. “You know I love you, right?”

Her cousin peeked out from the back seat, smirking. “Uh-huh.”

“But,” Luna continued, eyes shining, “I’m absolutely more excited to see Bomi than you.”

Her cousin rolled her eyes, laughing. “I know you are. You’re not even trying to deny it anymore.”

“I won’t.” Luna placed a hand dramatically over her heart. “I missed my little bean.”

From inside the car, a soft babble rose up, muffled and high-pitched.

Luna’s heart melted.

“Oh my goodnes! I hear her,” she whispered.

Her cousin lifted Bomi out of the car seat carefully, cradling the sleepy toddler against her shoulder as she stepped out of the vehicle. The moment the one-year-old’s big, curious eyes landed on Luna’s face, her mouth opened in delight.

“Ba-ba-ba-ba!” Bomi squealed, kicking her little feet with excitement, one chubby fist opening and closing.

Luna’s face broke into pure sunshine.

“Hi, my baby!” she cooed, reaching out eagerly. “Hi, my little mochi bean! Come here! Look at you! Oh, I missed you so much, my sweet baby girl— hi!”

Her cousin gently handed Bomi over, and Luna cradled her close like she was something fragile and divine. Bomi immediately snuggled against her, resting one hand against Luna’s collarbone and babbling softly.

Luna swayed on the spot, rocking her gently. “You’re bigger now, huh? Look at those cheeks, Bomi girl. Still soft as marshmallows. Oh, you smell like baby lotion and heaven.”

Her cousin leaned against the side of the car, watching them with a smile.

“We’ve got a whole day planned,” she explained. “Breakfast, massage, early lunch, a movie, dinner— you know, all the things we used to do before we had a baby.”

Luna nodded, nuzzling Bomi’s hair with a smile. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’re gonna be besties all day.”

Her cousin laughed. “We’ll be back by tonight, though. We can’t be away from her for too long, we’re already having separation anxiety just thinking about it.”

“You can stay out as long as you want,” Luna reassured, bouncing Bomi lightly on her hip as they walked toward the front door. “We’re gonna have the best time. Right, Bomi?”

The baby squealed in response, throwing her arms up.

Her husband followed behind them into the house, balancing the diaper bag in one arm and the folded stroller in the other. Luna helped guide them inside, holding the door open as they entered.

“Okay,” her cousin said as she began placing the bags near the couch, “so we brought everything you’ll need. There’s formula and milk bottles in the side pocket, diapers, extra clothes, wipes… her usual stuff. There’s also fruit pouches and baby food jars in the bottom compartment. She’s one now, so she can eat solids, just make sure it’s soft and bite-sized, okay?”

Luna nodded attentively, shifting Bomi to her other arm. “Got it. Tiny food only for the tiny human.”

“She loves bananas and strawberries,” her cousin continued, pulling open zippers as she pointed out pockets, “and she naps around noon, sometimes one. She usually sleeps again around six. She gets fussy if she’s up too long.”

“She sounds like me,” Luna muttered with a smile, earning a laugh from both parents.

“I’m serious,” her cousin said, her voice softening as she looked at her daughter in Luna’s arms. “Just call me if anything comes up, okay? But I know she’s in good hands.”

“Everything will be fine,” Luna reassured gently, bouncing Bomi with a soft pat. “I swear. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m not worried,” her cousin said with a warm smile. “Where’s your fiancé? Is he hiding?”

Luna chuckled. “He’s still asleep. He was so exhausted from his duty yesterday.”

Her cousin nodded. “Understandable. Say hello to him for us, okay? And thank him for helping us out today.”

“I will,” Luna promised.

“We should get going,” her cousin said with a little sigh. “We’ve got a whole day planned.”

Luna smiled, walking them to the door. “Go enjoy it. We’ll be just fine.”

They paused at the doorway to kiss Bomi goodbye— her dad pressing a soft kiss to her head and her mom whispering a quiet “Be good, baby, we love you” into her ear. Bomi waved her arms happily, completely unfazed, still babbling as Luna gently rocked her from side to side.

“Call me if you miss her too much,” Luna said playfully, opening the door wide.

Her cousin grinned. “You know I will.”

With one last wave, they stepped out onto the porch, walking back to their car hand-in-hand.

Once the front door clicked shut behind Luna, she exhaled a soft sigh through her nose and turned to the bundle on her hip. Bomi blinked up at her with wide eyes, her chubby cheeks slightly squished against Luna’s shoulder, a tiny hand curled in the fabric of Luna’s top.

Luna’s expression instantly melted into a grin, her voice dropping into the sing-song baby tone she couldn’t help but use around Bomi.

“Well, miss Bomi,” she cooed, adjusting her hold so their noses were almost touching, “what are we gonna do now, huh? Just us girls until we wake up that sleepy uncle of yours?”

Bomi blinked once, then let out a string of gibberish, high-pitched baby babbles with wild enthusiasm, her free hand patting Luna’s collarbone as if making an important point.

Luna gasped softly, eyes widening in mock shock. “Ohhh! You’re right. That does sound like a plan. You’re so smart,” she said solemnly, nodding as though Bomi had just laid out the entire itinerary for the day.

Still smiling, Luna turned back to the hallway, her arm adjusted Bomi higher on her hip as she padded across the living room, the soft padding of her socks muffling every step.

“Okay, Bomi-bear,” she said as they headed back to the kitchen. “Step one, we finish breakfast. Then…” she leaned in conspiratorially, “…we wake up your Uncle Jeonghan. He’s still sleeping like a baby himself.”

Bomi’s head turned to watch her intently, big eyes following every movement. She babbled again, as if in agreement.

“You think he’s gonna be surprised?” Luna asked with an exaggerated gasp. “Me too. But let’s be very careful and quiet for now, alright? We don’t wanna scare him… or wake the drama queen too early.”

With practiced ease, Luna set Bomi down in her baby seat perched safely on the counter. “Alright, baby boss,” she said, tying her hair back with one hand, “time to finish these eggs.”

Luna returned to the stove, stirring with one hand while the other rested near Bomi’s seat, keeping her close and secure. Despite only using one arm, she moved fluidly, like she’d done this a hundred times before. She cracked a few more eggs into the pan, the sizzle a gentle hum beneath her soft humming.

Bomi babbled again, this time lifting both arms as if trying to help.

“Oh, you wanna help now?” Luna laughed. “Chef Bomi in the kitchen, huh? I love that for us. But you’re on stirring duty next time, okay?”

Another giggle escaped her as she transferred the scrambled eggs to a serving plate and reached over to slice up some fruit, pausing now and then to make a funny face at Bomi, who squealed in delight.

Once everything was plated and neatly arranged on the table, with juice poured and a tiny bowl set aside for Bomi, Luna clapped her hands softly.

“Okay, lil’ lady,” she whispered as she picked her up again, “it’s time for the most important mission of the morning… Operation Wake the Sleeping Prince.”

Luna tiptoed toward the bedroom, Bomi tucked securely in her arms, one hand supporting the baby’s bottom as the other slowly twisted the doorknob. The hinges gave a tiny creak, just enough to make Luna wince and freeze but the room beyond was still.

Jeonghan lay in the center of their bed, completely sprawled out, one arm tossed over his forehead dramatically. The blanket was twisted around his legs like he had fought a mild war in his sleep.

Luna bit back a laugh. Her heart swelled at the sight. There he was, her fiancée, her Jeonghan, fast asleep, absolutely unbothered. She knew all too well how light a sleeper he was, though— one loud breath and he’d be blinking up at her with suspicious squinty eyes.

Carefully, silently, she padded to the bed, cradling Bomi close to her chest. She sat on the edge, lowering herself slowly, barely disturbing the mattress.

Bomi gave her a confused look, not scared, just curious, her lips parting in a small “oh.”

Luna whispered, “Shhh,” before a quiet giggle escaped her lips. “Don’t blow our cover, baby girl.”

And then like a lightbulb, an idea struck.

Eyes glinting with mischief, Luna whispered, “Wanna help me wake him up?”

Bomi blinked once.

“I thought so.”

With the gentleness only someone in love with both the baby in her arms and her sleeping fiancé could possess, Luna adjusted Bomi in her arms. Holding her carefully under the armpits, she leaned forward then slowly, very slowly, lowered the baby onto Jeonghan’s chest.

The moment Bomi’s little body met the soft fabric of his t-shirt, she instinctively let out a content “mmph” and flopped forward, her arms wrapping around him like he was a big, warm pillow.

Luna melted. Right there. On the spot.

Her hands flew to her mouth to muffle the giddy squeal building in her throat. This was too cute. This was criminally cute.

Jeonghan stirred slightly under the weight, eyebrows knitting just the tiniest bit.

Perfect, she thought, reaching with one hand to grab her phone from the bedside table. She quickly tapped the camera open, framing the shot with a grin— click.

The image frozen forever. Bomi, in her baby pajamas, clinging to Jeonghan’s chest like a sleepy koala.

But the second the shutter went off, Bomi babbled again— loudly.

“Ah-ba-baaa!”

Jeonghan stirred more noticeably now, frowning, his hand coming up lazily to feel what he assumed was Luna curled against him.

“Mm?” he grumbled. “Love? Why are you… so small today?”

His fingers met something much squishier than expected. His eyes blinked open, slow, unfocused, and immediately locked onto a pair of giant, unblinking doe eyes just inches from his face.

“Why is there a tiny human on me?” he croaked.

Luna burst into giggles, barely able to keep her voice down. “Because this little munchkin loves you and wanted to be the one to wake you up.”

Jeonghan blinked again, then looked down at the baby sprawled across his chest like a starfish. “Oh,” he said, still groggy. “You again.”

Bomi giggled and patted his chest twice with her tiny hand.

“Well, good morning to you, Miss Bomi,” Jeonghan said, shifting slightly and propping himself up on one elbow without dislodging her. “Did you climb up here all by yourself like a tiny ninja?”

She babbled back at him with a very serious look.

“I see,” he nodded gravely. “And then what? You conquered the bed and claimed it as your kingdom?”

Bomi slapped his shoulder.

Jeonghan gasped. “A coup? Already?”

Luna was wheezing quietly at the side of the bed, her heart physically aching at how adorable they looked.

“You two are ridiculous,” she whispered.

Jeonghan looked over at her with a grin, voice slipping into that syrupy-sweet baby talk tone that always made her knees weak. “Who’s the cutest lil’ princess in thr whole wide world, huh? Is it you? Is it Bomi-bear? Yes it is~!”

Bomi babbled excitedly, clearly pleased with the attention.

“Oh, she’s talking back already,” Jeonghan said. “Nana-ya, I think she just told me I’m her favorite.”

“I don’t blame her,” Luna grinned, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You are extremely cuddly.”

Jeonghan beamed. “And she has excellent taste. Don’t you, Bomi-bear?”

“She said she wants to eat breakfast,” Luna chimed in. “And that you need to get up so we can all eat.”

Jeonghan sighed dramatically, arms still around the baby. “But she’s so warm. Can’t we just lay here forever?”

Luna rolled her eyes fondly. “Hannie.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, pressing a kiss to Bomi’s hair. “But only because the queen demands it.”

He gently handed Bomi back to Luna, stretching with a loud groan. “You’re both lucky you’re cute.”

Luna smiled as Bomi tucked her face into her shoulder again, heart full.

Soon, the two found themselves back in the dining area, Luna balanced Bomi expertly on one hip as she returned to the table she had set earlier while Jeonghan was in the bathroom.

The plates were still warm, steam rising gently from the breakfast she had managed to finish cooking with one hand— a feat she felt deserved a gold medal. The familiar aroma of rice, eggs, and stir-fried vegetables filled the air, comforting and homely.

With practiced ease, Luna unfastened the buckle on the baby seat perched at the corner of their round dining table and gently lowered Bomi into it. “Okay, baby,” she murmured as she secured the clasps snugly but comfortably around the baby’s belly, “let’s get you situated. Breakfast time!”

Bomi gave a high-pitched giggle, legs kicking excitedly against the seat. Luna grinned. The domestic rhythm of it all— the buckling of a baby seat, the clink of dishes, the casual scent of soy sauce and garlic in the air, was surprisingly natural. Almost too natural, as if they’d done this before. As if it was already a part of their life.

Jeonghan emerged from the hallway a few minutes later, yawning and rubbing his eyes, his hair still slightly mussed from sleep. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a loose cream-colored shirt, the epitome of Saturday softness. He shuffled into the kitchen, lips already quirking into a smirk at the sight of the girls— his fiancée and the tiny guest of honor seated at the table like they’d been running the house for years.

“You two are cute,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to Luna’s head as he walked behind her chair.

“We know,” Luna quipped without missing a beat, placing a spoonful of soft scrambled eggs onto Bomi’s baby-friendly plate. “Sit down and eat. You’ve got uncleship duties after breakfast.”

Jeonghan chuckled and took his seat, scooping some rice onto his own plate. “I don’t even remember agreeing to this.”

“Don’t even try to pretend you don’t like this,” Luna said, teasing, while lifting a spoonful of mashed egg toward Bomi’s waiting mouth. “Okay, Bbom! Say ‘ahhh’ for me.”

Bomi opened her mouth obediently, and Luna made a dramatic airplane noise as she brought the spoon in. “Vroooom! Incoming eggie! Oh nooo, it’s going into the hangar— aaand touchdown! What a champ!”

Bomi giggled with her mouth full, cheeks puffed out adorably.

Luna cooed. “Good job, baby girl! You’re such a good eater, aren’t you? Yes, you are! Oh my goodness, so smart and strong. Mommy and Daddy are gonna be so proud when they hear you ate your whole breakfast!”

Jeonghan shook his head in mock disbelief, eyes trained lovingly on the scene. “You talk to her like she understands full sentences.”

“She does. Don’t you, Bomi?” Luna replied, giving the baby another spoonful. “She’s smarter than you think. Look at these eyes. That’s the face of a girl plotting world domination.”

“She’s one,” Jeonghan reminded her, though there was no fight behind it, only amusement.

“You’re acting as if you weren’t doing the same thing earlier,” Luna said, grinning.

Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head as he continued to eat, sneaking a bite of Luna’s egg when she wasn’t looking.

When the meal wound down, he leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Alright, you cooked. I’ll do the dishes.”

Luna blinked at him dramatically. “Wow, equality. What a concept.”

“Brat,” Jeonghan said with a wink, collecting the plates with a lazy grace.

With Bomi now full and content, Luna lifted her out of the seat and headed into the living room with the baby bag in hand. She laid out a colorful blanket on the floor and started pulling toys from the bag— soft blocks, a plush bunny, a toy phone that lit up, a rattle shaped like a strawberry.

“Alright, Bomi my love. Let’s see what your mom packed for you,” Luna said, setting things up like she was curating an art exhibit. “Okay, we have your bunny— classic. The phone you love to chew on. And… oooh, shapes! Look at these, Bomi! Your favorite triangle!”

Bomi babbled with excitement, eyes lighting up as she dropped to her knees and began smacking the toy phone against the bunny with great gusto.

“Wow, very innovative. Bunny versus technology,” Luna commented dryly, clapping her hands encouragingly. “You’re so cute.”

Jeonghan appeared in the doorway, drying his hands on a towel. “Did I miss the battle of the century?”

“Just the opening act,” Luna replied. “Come sit. She’s in her element now.”

He plopped down beside Luna, crossing his legs and grabbing the rattle, shaking it near Bomi who immediately turned toward him and shrieked with laughter. “You like that sound, huh? Yeah? This one? This is your jam?”

He shook the rattle to the rhythm of a beat, bobbing his head dramatically while Luna snorted beside him. “Okay DJ Yoon,” she said, bumping his shoulder.

The three of them stayed like that for a while— Luna guiding Bomi through different toys while Jeonghan alternated between helping and being a total clown.

At one point, Bomi picked up the shape sorting toy— a plastic cube with holes in the shape of stars, circles, squares, and triangles and began fitting each shape in carefully.

“Oh my god, look at her go!” Luna whispered excitedly. “She’s doing so well!”

“Smart baby,” Jeonghan added, nodding along solemnly. “Absolute prodigy. Put her in Mensa.”

“Yay, Bbom!” Luna clapped gently. “You’re so smart, baby! That’s the triangle! Good girl!”

“Okay now, the star one,” Jeonghan pointed, leaning forward as she picked up the last piece.

But Bomi’s tiny fingers struggled to align it just right. The angle was wrong, and after a few failed attempts, she let out a little frustrated whimper, her lower lip wobbling.

“Oh, no no no,” Luna said instantly, scooping Bomi into her lap and cradling her. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. You did so well. Don’t cry, angel. That was hard, huh? That’s okay. Auntie’s here. You’re okay, you’re okay.”

Bomi sniffled, her fists still holding the plastic star.

Jeonghan reached over, his voice soft as silk, his entire demeanor calm and grounding. “Aigo, Bomi-bear. It’s okay. Wanna try again? Let’s do it together, yeah?”

Luna watched, her arms still around the baby, as Jeonghan gently took Bomi’s hand in his own and guided the star-shaped piece toward the correct hole. “Look, just like this. Turn it this way… see? You got it. I knew you could. Just needed a little help, that’s all.”

With his help, Bomi finally slid the shape into place with a quiet click.

“Yaaay! Good job!” Jeonghan praised, grinning. “You did it, little genius!”

Bomi beamed up at him, her teary eyes now shining with pride. Jeonghan reached over and kissed the top of her head. “That’s a good girl.”

Luna stared at them— Jeonghan’s warm smile, the sparkle shining in his eyes, the absolute care in the way he handled Bomi and felt her heart squeeze so tight she had to blink fast.

It wasn’t butterflies.

It was an entire zoo in her stomach.

The hours slipped by like warm honey, thick with comfort and laughter.

After the excitement of the morning, the three of them had migrated to the living room. The floor was still scattered with the toys Luna had laid out earlier, and Jeonghan had added a soft blanket for them to sit on.

They took turns playing with Bomi— at one moment, Luna was dangling a plush rattle just out of reach, cheering when the baby managed to grab it with her tiny fingers. The next, Jeonghan was on all fours pretending to be a horse, with Bomi giggling from where she was seated on a pillow watching him crawl.

Eventually, Luna clicked the remote, turning on the TV to find a cartoon. Bomi perked up immediately, eyes wide with delight, her chubby legs kicking as the bright colors and sing-song voices filled the room. The two adults looked at each other with an amused little grin.

Jeonghan ended up with Bomi seated snugly next to him on the couch, her cheek pressed against his side, her tiny hand fisting into his shirt as if it were a security blanket. He had found a baby sensory video on YouTube— animated dancing fruits with large, googly eyes and a pastel rainbow background. The music was cheery and oddly hypnotizing.

Luna had excused herself to the kitchen again, prepping their lunch with quick efficiency. From her spot by the stove, she could hear Jeonghan’s commentary from the living room.

“Ohhh, is that a banana? He’s got moves!”

There was a pause. “Wait— wait, look at the strawberry! Isn’t it cute, Bomi-bear?”

Another pause.

“Okay, pineapple, calm down. You’re doing too much.”

Luna barked out a laugh, nearly dropping the spatula. Turning her head, she saw Jeonghan in the center of the living room holding Bomi carefully under her arms as he danced in circles with her to the video’s rhythm. Bomi was squealing, eyes crinkled and toothless smile wide, her soft wisps of hair bouncing with each gentle spin.

“You two better be hungry!” Luna called, laughter in her voice.

“We’re burning calories, my moon!” Jeonghan replied, still spinning.

Lunch was simple— something Luna could prepare with ease and one-handed if necessary. They all gathered again around the table, Luna gently spooning small bites into Bomi’s mouth.

“There’s my good girl— ahh, here comes the plane!” she sang in a soft voice, holding the spoon out with a dramatic flair. “Whee~ there it goes, good job!”

Bomi chewed slowly, her gaze fixed on Luna like she was the center of the world.

“Smartest baby in the world, obviously,” Luna cooed. “You’re so clever, oh my goodness. Han, look at her chew. Ten out of ten.”

“I see it, I see it,” Jeonghan nodded solemnly, sipping his water. “Harvard’s gonna call any minute now.”

After they ate, the inevitable came— diaper time.

“Oh no,” Luna sighed, sniffing and giving Bomi a side glance. “You did not just poop during lunch.”

“I believe she did,” Jeonghan said, pointing dramatically. “The face don’t lie.”

Luna stood with a groan. “Alright, come on, stinky. Let’s clean you up.”

Jeonghan saluted her. “I’ll cheer you on from here. Go, team Bae Jiyeon!”

“You’re changing the next one!” she shot back over her shoulder.

Jeonghan gasped in mock offense. “Challenge accepted. Let’s see who does it better.”

Surprisingly— or not, given his baby-loving reputation, he did do it better. Gentle, fast, and even got Bomi to giggle while doing it.

“She likes me more,” he said smugly as Luna stared in disbelief. “It’s me, babe. Yoon Jeonghan is perfect at everything.”

A little while later, Luna had Bomi swaddled in her arms, gently bouncing her and rubbing soft circles on her back. The baby was already beginning to droop, eyelids fluttering.

“There we go,” Luna whispered. “Time for your nap, baby girl.”

She moved to the bedroom, the same room she and Jeonghan shared, where they had built a makeshift pillow barrier on one side of the bed to keep Bomi safe. Gently, she lowered the baby onto the mattress, placing a soft blanket over her.

Unbeknownst to Luna, Jeonghan had been leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching the whole scene with a quiet softness in his eyes. The tenderness on Luna’s face, the care in her touch— it made something tighten in his chest.

He didn’t say anything. Just smiled.

With Bomi asleep, the house fell into a slow, golden hush.

The couple spent the next hour or two simply existing. They cleaned up toys and food containers, lazed around the living room with their phones, occasionally showing each other funny videos or talking about plans for the week.

It was easy— so easy to fall into domestic rhythm with Jeonghan.

At one point, Luna slipped away to the bathroom.

That was when Bomi stirred.

A small whimper came from the baby monitor. Then a soft whine.

Jeonghan immediately put down his phone and padded into the room.

“Hey, little love,” he whispered, crouching by the bed. “You waking up, huh?”

Bomi let out a sleepy squeak, eyes fluttering open.

“Yeah, there you are,” Jeonghan said, lifting her gently into his arms. “Come here, baby bear.”

She whimpered again, rubbing her face into his shirt.

“Aww, it’s okay,” he murmured, swaying with her slightly. “Uncle Jeonghan’s got you. Just needed a snuggle, huh?”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice low and musical as he began softly cooing nonsense words and gentle reassurances. “You’re okay, baby girl… shhh, I got you. The dream’s all gone now, yeah? You’re safe.”

She settled quickly, her small fingers clutching the collar of his t-shirt as she breathed against his chest.

Jeonghan smiled.

“You’re such a sweet girl,” he whispered, eyes soft.

And when Luna stepped out and found him in that moment— half-asleep baby in his arms, rocking her gently in their dim bedroom, his expression filled with so much calm… she nearly teared up.

That man was dangerous.

A few minutes later, once Bomi was fully awake and reenergized from her nap, the familiar sound of her giggles began to echo once more within the cozy walls of Luna and Jeonghan’s house.

The three of them had made their way back into the living room, the floor now a delightful mess of soft plush toys, rattles, and colorful plastic rings. The TV remained on in the background, still playing the bright, cheerful baby sensory video of dancing fruits that had become a favorite, especially with its upbeat music and hypnotically jiggling animated apples and bananas.

Bomi, seated comfortably on the soft play mat between Luna and Jeonghan, let out a delighted squeal as a certain fluffy figure hopped into her line of sight.

“Bugs!” Luna grinned as the bunny immediately springing into action as if on cue. “Bugs, this is our baby Bomi,” she said softly, watching as the rabbit bounced up and down.

Bomi laughed— loud, bubbly, and unfiltered. Her little hands clapped together as Bugs, Luna’s Christmas gift from Jeonghan, continued bouncing. Luna had been saving that little surprise all day. She had asked permission from her cousin a few hours ago— just to be sure and the reply had been nothing but enthusiastic.

“Bomi would be excited!” her cousin had texted, and clearly, she had been right.

Jeonghan, watching Bugs with an amused tilt of his head, leaned closer and asked in a soft voice, “What’s that, Bomi?” His hand gestured to the bunny rabbit, fingers wiggling in the air. “Is that a bunny? Hm? It’s a bunny. B-U-N-N-Y,” he spelled out, baby-talking as Bomi stared at him, mesmerized.

Just as Luna was about to grab her phone and record the moment, the calm in the apartment was interrupted by a sudden buzz from the intercom.

The sound sliced through the soft lull of the cartoon and laughter, drawing all three of their heads toward the front door.

Luna blinked, startled. “Were you expecting someone?”

Jeonghan shook his head and stood up, brushing invisible lint off his sweatpants. He padded toward the door and looked through the small screen beside the intercom. His eyebrows shot up, and then he chuckled.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath, reaching forward to press the button that would unlock the gate.

Luna watched from her place on the floor, Bugs now resting beside her thigh while Bomi hugged him tightly. The front door opened, but the panel blocked her view of whoever was outside.

Jeonghan’s voice floated over the top of the door. “Why are you here?”

A playful whine replied almost immediately, unmistakably bright and familiar.

“Hyung… I was just nearby and wanted to visit you and Jiyeonie!”

Luna’s mouth twitched upward, recognition dawning.

“Oh god,” she muttered under her breath, already anticipating the whirlwind.

And sure enough, just seconds later, in stepped a tall, boisterous figure. Dressed casually in a white oversized tee and gray joggers, a beaming Dokyeom entered the apartment like he owned the place, arms spread wide.

“Ji-Ji!” he yelled enthusiastically.

Bomi, who had been nestled in Luna’s lap with her back to the door, didn’t react right away. Luna’s eyebrows raised in silent amusement, but before she could reply, Dokyeom’s expression twisted into visible confusion as his gaze landed on the television.

“What? What… is with you two?” he asked, gesturing dramatically to the TV screen. “Why are you watching dancing fruit?!”

His voice was comically perplexed as he looked back to Luna, clearly expecting an answer.

But before another word could leave his mouth, a small human head popped up from Luna’s lap— Bomi turning toward the noise, wide-eyed, cheeks rosy from her nap. She blinked curiously at the unfamiliar guest.

Dokyeom visibly froze, then gasped.

“Who’s this? Is this Bomi?!”

He crouched down slowly, eyes still wide with fascination, as Bugs— apparently sensing the energy bounced again. Bomi’s eyes tracked the bunny, then shifted to Dokyeom’s exaggerated movements, intrigued.

Jeonghan, who had walked back toward the living room, deadpanned as he pointed toward Dokyeom who was now bouncing as well. “That is a kangaroo.”

Luna snorted, covering her mouth as laughter bubbled out.

Dokyeom, completely ignoring the jab, inched closer to Bomi and began to gently wiggle his fingers in front of her face. “Hi! Hi there, little baby! You’re so tiny! So small!” he cooed, his voice high-pitched and exaggeratedly cheerful. “Are you Bomi? You are, aren’t you? You’re so cute I could cry— oh my god, you looked at me! She looked at me!”

“She’s a baby, Kyeomie,” Luna replied, smiling as she adjusted Bomi’s shirt.

“Still! Eye contact is bonding!” he said proudly, now making kissy faces and lightly tapping her toes. “You’re going to grow up and be cooler than your aunt Jiyeonie and uncle Jeonghannie combined, I just know it.”

“She’s not your child,” Jeonghan pointed out flatly.

“She’s not yours either,” Dokyeom declared.

He reached out and gently booped Bomi’s nose. “You gotta stimulate their little baby brains, you know. Read that on Naver. Someone said playing Mozart while bouncing them on a yoga ball makes them geniuses.”

Luna looked at him like he’d lost it. “You read that on… Naver?”

“Or maybe it was TikTok… I don’t remember but it’s the same thing, basically.”

Jeonghan shook her head with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously educated in baby logic,” Dokyeom said proudly, lifting Bomi’s arm like she’d just won a medal. “Tell them, Bomi. Say, ‘Uncle Dokyeom is the smartest!’”

Bomi blinked at him.

“See? That’s agreement. You can’t argue with that,” he grinned.

Despite the chaos, Bomi was clearly enjoying herself. She reached out a hand toward Dokyeom, and he took it gently, swaying it side to side.

“She’s intrigued,” Luna noted.

“She recognizes greatness,” Dokyeom said with mock solemnity. “It’s instinctual.”

Jeonghan sat back on the sofa, sipping water with the air of someone who’d accepted the madness. “You’re like a chihuahua in human form.”

“Aw, thanks, hyung.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

The banter continued for a while— silly, loud, full of energy. Dokyeom stayed longer than he’d originally planned, completely enamored by Bomi and happily entertaining her with funny voices and exaggerated dancing. He even joined Bugs in bouncing, which made Bomi shriek with laughter.

But after about an hour and a half, he checked his phone and sighed. “Alright, I gotta run. Got some errands to do, sadly. Unlike you two, I have a busy, complicated, single-man life.”

“You mean going to the convenience store and buying all their banana milk?” Jeonghan quipped.

“Hey, that banana milk is essential,” Dokyeom said, scooping his shoes up.

He bent down one last time to wave at Bomi, who blinked up at him with wide eyes and a gummy grin.

“Bye, little bean! Uncle Dokyeom loves you!”

And with that, he was gone— leaving behind his usual trail of energy, noise, and love.

The apartment settled into peace once again, the gentle sound of the sensory video still playing in the background in a loop.

The rest of the day, unfortunately, passed far too quickly.

It had started with such gentle chaos— the kind that made the hours slip through their fingers like sand. From snack time to impromptu dance breaks, diaper duty to cuddle puddles on the living room floor, the house had been a whirlwind of baby giggles and soft domestic bliss.

Bomi, ever the center of their orbit, had been treated like royalty, carted around between the two adults as if she were a tiny empress demanding both love and entertainment at all times.

Jeonghan had declared himself the “Snack Time Captain,” dramatically testing each biscuit before handing it to her with an exaggerated “Safe!” Luna had laughed so hard she’d almost dropped the bottle of puree. She’d taken on diaper duty with surprising efficiency, coaxing Bomi through each change with songs and nose kisses while Jeonghan provided running commentary like a sports announcer from the sidelines.

By the time dinner rolled around, Bomi had grown visibly drowsy from all the activity. Jeonghan spoon-fed her bits of mashed sweet potato with comical airplane noises while Luna prepped a quick dinner for the two of them— grilled cheese sandwiches and soup, eaten quickly between stolen kisses and coos toward the baby in her high chair.

And then came bath time.

It was gentle, slow. A calm to the storm. The warm water was filled with safe foam bubbles and floating toys. Luna found herself kneeling on the tiled bathroom floor, her arms folded on the edge of the tub as she watched Bomi splash contentedly, babbling to herself and occasionally holding up a toy as if to share it with her.

Her chin rested on her forearms, a soft smile curved into her cheeks. Her eyes were glazed not with tiredness, but something else, something quiet and wistful.

Behind her, Jeonghan stood with a towel draped over his shoulder, watching not the baby… but her.

The light in the room was warm and dim, wrapping around her like a blanket, and he couldn’t look away. He saw it in her expression, the deep longing, the admiration, the gentle ache of something more. Her gaze was fixed on Bomi, but her thoughts were so far beyond this moment.

It hit him then. Fully. Clearly.

She wanted this.

Not just the borrowed sweetness of a day with someone else’s child— but her own.

A life made between them. Something permanent.

He knelt beside her quietly, not interrupting the moment. Just close enough to let her know he saw it, too.

The spell broke sooner than they were ready for.

At exactly 5:30pm, earlier than expected, the front gate buzzer rang.

Luna blinked slowly, her daydream slipping from her like water from cupped hands. Jeonghan looked at her, reading the tiny falter in her face. She didn’t say anything as she rose to her feet, grabbing a towel and gently lifting Bomi out of the bath, wrapping her in soft cotton and holding her close before quickly dressing her up.

She understood, of course. Her cousin and her husband had only wanted a few hours together, not an entire day. They had missed their baby. Luna would’ve felt the same way.

If… when… that time came.

The front door opened to warm laughter and hurried steps. Luna’s cousin all but rushed into the apartment, her husband right behind her.

“There’s our baby girl!” her cousin squealed, reaching out to scoop Bomi from Luna’s arms. “Oh my god, I missed you so much.”

Bomi, still sleepy and damp-haired from her bath, blinked at her mother before reaching for her with a small, tired smile.

“You guys survived?” Her cousin’s husband teased, giving Jeonghan a grateful pat on the back.

“Barely,” Jeonghan joked. “I think she runs on nuclear energy.”

They all laughed softly. Then together, they tidied up— packing the baby bag, grabbing the toys and snacks, folding the blanket they’d laid out on the floor.

Luna’s cousin paused to hug her tightly.

“Thank you again, so much. Both of you. We really needed this.”

“It was nothing,” Luna said softly. “She was perfect.”

They all walked to the door slowly.

The goodbye came with a slight lump in Luna’s throat.

“Bye-bye, Bomi,” Jeonghan cooed as the baby blinked at them sleepily from her father’s arms.

“Bye, sweet girl,” Luna whispered, brushing her fingers through the soft hair behind Bomi’s ear. “See you soon, okay? I’ll make time for you, cutie.”

The baby let out a small hum, already half-asleep on her dad’s shoulder.

Jeonghan and Luna stood side-by-side as they watched the little family walk out into the fading light. The sound of the car starting, pulling out of the lot, fading down the street.

Then the door closed with a gentle click behind them.

Luna stood in the now-quiet house. The silence felt louder than it should’ve. The TV was off. The toys were gone. The baby laughter that had filled their ears all day was nowhere to be found.

She sighed, long and soft, her shoulders dipping slightly as her gaze drifted across the empty living room. Her lips pouted. Her eyes glossed.

Jeonghan turned to her just in time to catch the way her eyes lifted toward him.

He chuckled gently. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?”

Luna blinked, her bottom lip wobbling.

“I want one.”

Jeonghan tilted his head, squinting. “Huh?”

“I want one,” she repeated, softer.

He cupped his ear theatrically. “Speak up, Nana-ya, I can’t hear you.”

And then her eyes filled with tears, and she looked up at him with her heart in her throat.

“I want a baby.”

The words left her in a trembling breath. She didn’t know why she felt this emotional. Maybe she was PMSing and it was the hormones. Maybe it was the stillness after the storm. The sight of that tiny baby curled up against her, trusting her, loving her. Maybe it was the way Jeonghan had looked at her all day— like he saw it too. Like he was picturing something permanent, just as she had.

Jeonghan blinked at her, stunned for a beat.

Then his smirk bloomed slowly.

“Don’t tempt me, woman.”

“I’m serious,” she said, voice small, lip still pouted.

His expression softened. The teasing edge slipped away, replaced by something deeper. He stepped forward slowly, reaching out to gently cup her face in both hands.

She leaned into his palms, eyes glossy.

“You really want one?” he asked, his voice low and careful, his thumb brushing under her eye.

Luna nodded.

“I do.”

He looked at her for a long moment, as if memorizing her… this exact moment. This woman he loved. The woman he would build everything with.

“I want that too,” he whispered. “So badly.”

He leaned forward to press his forehead to hers.

“But let’s do it right, yeah? After I finish my military service next year. After we get married. Then… I promise.”

Luna sniffled softly, nodding again, more firmly this time.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Jeonghan leaned in and kissed her gently, deeply, like a promise made and sealed. His lips lingered on hers, and when he pulled back, his smile was warm and crooked.

“Come on,” he murmured. “It’s time for me to take my baby to bed.”

She smiled, even through the tears, as he grabbed her hand and tugged her gently toward their bedroom.

“Jeongie—”

“Yes, my love?”

“You meant it, right?”

He looked at her, kissed her forehead, and whispered against her skin.

“Every single word.”

And with that, the lights dimmed, the door to their room closed, and somewhere in the silence, the future stirred— soft, sweet, and waiting.

Just like them.

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