#ateez soft hours

[seobinghard]

boyfriend!mingi loves having you sit on his lap. whether you're at a rowdy party or riding a crowded subway. no seats left? "sit on my lap, baby." he'd wrap his arms protectively around you, shielding your body with his as your legs dangle off his thigh, hawks eyes staring bitches down in case they try something funny and snatch you away from him. he loves the way you look so small and fragile on his lap, the way you wrap your arms around his neck and litter his cheek with shy kisses. and you? no thoughts, head empty—there's no thinking when you're with mingi; he does it all for you so you wouldn't have to lift a finger when it comes to the real world. to him, you're the perfect girl, so perfect and too dreamy to fiddle your mind with something as trivial as figuring out the next subway stops or fixing your car tires or god forbid, paying for anything. he'll take care of that. he'll take care of everything. he's the T to your F. the function to your form. that imaginary bubble you like to live in? he'll be the one to protect it. as long as he's here, all you have to do is sit, and look pretty <3 what a dream tbh.

m.list

[belikejk]

HE DESERVES ALL THIS AND MORE

surprise ── psh.

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲. surprising your fiancé with a birthday party—but leaving the biggest surprise for last.

p. seonghwa / non idol fluff + romance + est. relationship mention of pregnancy | 𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤.

though today was supposed to feel like a special day, it didn’t. for seonghwa, it felt like just another thursday; one step closer to the weekend.

the pressure of his job and having such a huge position was stressing him out, causing him to distance himself more and more as the days passed. he was grateful for the promotion, of course, but it was so demanding.

so demanding that he couldn’t even take off from his birthday.

his keys jangled as he pushed them into the door of your shared home, entering with a sigh. it was only around 4pm, clouds low in the sky, but the house was darker than usual.

he didn’t pay any attention to it, assuming you were napping upstairs and didn’t want to leave all of the lights on. he set his bag down, hand immediately coming to yank at the tie that had been nearly strangling him all day.

he tossed it over his shoulder, unbuttoning some of the buttons on his shirt before entering the kitchen.

seonghwa’s hand touched the wall, feeling around for the light switch—not knowing what would be there when the light flicked on.

“surprise!”

a whole group of people stood behind the dining room table, friends and family all gathered around with balloons and presents in hand, while you stood in front, holding a cake.

hwa jumped back, hand clutching his chest. he would’ve cursed so loud if his mother wasn’t standing there.

“what the—“ he started, exhaling sharply.

everyone began clapping and cheering, wishing him a happy birthday.

you were the first to walk towards him, a soft smile on your face as you set the cake down to wrap your arms around him.

“happy birthday, baby.”

seonghwa didn’t say anything. he didn’t know what to say. instead of replying, he just hugged you back, holding you as tight as possible.

“thank you,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head. “so much.”

and he meant that from the bottom of his heart. if it weren’t for you, he would’ve gone to bed, not even remembering that it was his birthday in the first place. but you knew he needed this—he needed something to distract him from the workload and stress he had taken on.

seonghwa’s mom joined the two of you, pulling her son into a hug after you stepped back so that she could talk to him.

everyone had started a conversation by then, gathering around seonghwa, shoving bags and boxes into his arms. though it was a bit overwhelming at first, it made him feel loved. not just the gift-giving, but the amount of people whom he loved and cared for, came just to celebrate him.

you walked back toward him with a small bag, waiting for him to open everyone else’s gifts first.

a few of them brought him sweaters or hats, some even brought a stash of his favorite snacks.

and then he got to yours.

you handed him the bag, seeing his smile grow when he took it. inside was a silver watch he’d been wanting from his favorite brand—one that he’d been on the hunt for.

he chuckled, “are you serious?”

you giggled, watching as he tried it on with the biggest grin on his face.

as the evening went on, seonghwa could feel the anxiety and pressure leaving him more and more. his day had been filled with tons of slideshows and emails, and now it was filled with love, games, and horrible karaoke.

but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

it was around 8pm when they finally left, leaving the two of you alone again. hwa was still nibbling on a small piece of his cake, enjoying the silence that filled the space between you. nothing awkward or tense, just quiet.

but you shifted slightly to stand up from your spot on the couch, causing him to look up at you.

“i have one more thing,” you said, before heading upstairs to your bedroom. hwa remained in his spot wondering what you could’ve had for him, and why you were giving it to him after the party.

you came back with your hands behind you, an even smaller box wrapped in your hands.

he glanced at you again, seeing the way you looked at him. like you were holding in some secret.

“what?” he stared in confusion.

you bit your lip, hesitating, before handing him the box.

“is it more jewelry?” he laughed softly.

“just open it.”

so he did. what was inside, however, was not what he had expected.

he gazed down at the box before looking back up at you in disbelief.

“you’re not pranking me.. right?”

you chuckled softly, “not this time, baby.”

inside the box was a pregnancy test. two, actually—to show that it was legit. he let out a shaky breath, which scared you at first.

“you okay?” you asked, suddenly afraid of him not wanting this. not wanting a family. but when he looked at you again, you could see that it was exactly what he wanted.

“okay?” he asked. “honey, this is the best news i’ve received all week.”

he took your hand, pulling you words him gently. you landed in his lap as he began peppering kisses all over your face, leaving you giggling like a school girl.

his hand came down to rest on your belly, rubbing as if there were something already growing there.

“i love you. so, so much.” he mumbled against your lips, pecking them.

💌 ──── late birthday fic for hwa !! ^^ yunho’s should be coming soon..

[cheeseceli]

We got time

Pairing: Jeong Yunho × gn!reader

Genre: fluff, drabble (<1k words), f2l kinda

Request: can you do something with Yunho like headcanons of him being very boyfriend material? Or something like childhood friends to lovers?

Warnings: maybe too sweet, not exactly childhood friends to lovers but the idea is here

A/n: I have such a soft spot for this man | daily click

Tonight could be the night where Yunho finally confesses his feelings for you.

He's been waiting for an opportunity like that for a while: after all, he did try to admit he loved you differently than a friend should a few times already. He never managed to do so. Always overthinking, too anxious, never knowing if this secret could be revealed without having bad results.

But tonight seemed optimistic.

You, him and your friend group decided to go camping for the weekend. You've already done a few trips together, but that was the first time you'd be all out in the open.

It was a very spontaneous idea. Wooyoung had some camping tents, Yujin knew this wonderful place where no one would bother you and Seonghwa volunteered to drive you all there and back. It was supposed to be a fun and random outing with friends.

The plan was... Well, there wasn't a plan. The five of you chose to decide on what to do later, when you arrived at the destination. But Yunho knew one specific thing that just had to be on the "to do list".

The sunrise.

You had already told him a few times how you've always wanted to see the sun rising with someone, although you never did because of the lack of an opportunity. This was the perfect chance. Doing what you've always wanted plus having a (hopefully) extreme romantic confession given to you by no one else but your best friend.

Nothing could go wrong, right?

And it really didn't. Everything went perfectly well.

Maybe that was the problem.

"Excited?" Yunho asked you. It was almost 1AM. Nowhere near the rise of dawn, but you were already excited, as if you were already seeing the sun getting up in all its glory right in front of you.

"I am, actually!" You smiled, legs bouncing with excitement. How sweet could you be? "Can't believe the rest of the group decided to sleep instead of being here. They are going to miss this."

Yunho smiled at your reaction. Had he known you would be this happy to see something as simple as the sky in the early morning, he would've done this with you way before.

He wondered how he would manage to look at the sun later on if your eyes kept shining like this. You were too beautiful to miss.

And that's when it struck him.

He needed to confess. Should he do it now? There were still a few hours left, he still had your attention. Or should he say it all when the day rises? To add a bit of magic to the moment.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked him after noticing how his gaze was stuck to the ground.

That was a perfect opportunity. You began the conversation, he could complete it with what he'd been trying to say all this time! But something within him just... Couldn't.

All the other times he tried to tell you what he felt, he froze. Scared of ruining your relationship, of you not reciprocating his feelings, of the moment not being right, of him getting the words all wrong...

Right now, nothing really worried him.

Although he couldn't be sure, the way you looked at him tonight told him that you both would be okay. You felt the same. He knows exactly what to say. And the moment is too right.

Maybe you weren't so happy just because of the sun rising. That happens every day. You could've watched it by yourself a million times before had you wanted it. But you wanted someone next to you. When you realised Yunho would make this silly dream of yours come true, you were so happy.

Maybe even in love.

He didn't need to say anything to notice how that night already shifted the waters between you. That was already the beginning of something new, even if it was so subtle you would only notice it after a few days, probably, whilst daydreaming about this moment.

"I'm just thinking that the night is pretty." he replied. The stars were reflected in your eyes. He had no idea if it was possible to love someone more than he did right now "The day will be too."

Tonight is not the night where Yunho will confess his feelings for you. But that's okay.

You've got plenty of time.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Princess Treatment

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @sheraayasherrecs

Dividers by @adornedwithlight | images 1, 2 and 3

[chaeinedup]

*Incoming photo* Ateez

[tangerineastronaut]

can you do how they would be when your pregnant ot8

ATEEZ during your pregnancy ❤︎ ot8

Pairing: ot8 headcanons Genre: fluff, mentions of smut Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: pregnancy discussion, talk, sexual bits (not a whole lot of smut I promise) A/N: This took a surprisingly long amount of time I'm sorry!! I'm not sure if you meant ateez or not, I assumed so since that's what I've been posting recently. If not please send me an ask and I will do this for another group! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Taglist: @baby-stay92 @cozypaint If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.

🔞Content Below the Break🔞

Hongjoong

The absolute worst (best)

Scolds you for "doing too much" aka walking up the stairs or picking up a gallon of milk.

Buys you the most expensive brand of prenatal vitamins despite your doctor insisting the cheap ones are fine

Checks on you via text every hour when he's not with you

^ and when he is with you

Is lowkey afraid of failure as a father, reads parenting articles

Sends you decaf coffee at work

Wants to feel your belly but won't unless you invite him to

Teary eyed when he feels the baby kick for the first time

Sampled the heartbeat at the ultrasound visit to use in a song

Writes letters to you and the baby and keeps them in a memory book for you to read later (but you don't know this)

Nursery is fully decked out and the baby already has a full wardrobe

Your crying makes him panic, he hates seeing you cry and will frantically try to soothe you every time

Is grossed out by your cravings but will get them for you anyway—why do you have to crave vegetables?

Sex is soft and lazy in the best way

Side sex (think sunday morning sex except any day) >>>

Like imagine his chest against your back, his cheek against yours, one of his hands keeping your leg up so he has room to fuck you, asking if it feels good and if you're comfortable, except he's kind of whining and breathless ~

No pregnancy kink but thinks you're breathtaking, as always

^ even when you haven't showered, your legs are hairy, etc. He thinks you're a work of art

Plays music for you and the baby, asks what he/she responds to and makes note of it

Overprotective, does not like it when people touch you in general, let alone when you're pregnant

Visibly dies inside every time someone's hand goes to your belly without asking you first—would scold people if you'd let him

Posts photos of you each month documenting your pregnancy and leaving a words of appreciation for you

Keeps a copy of the ultrasound photo with him

May not have his hands on you 24/7, but he makes sure you know you're loved as well as the baby

Seonghwa

So freaking soft for you both

Loves babies anyway but your baby??

Him leaning against the headboard so you can lean against him, he'll curl his arms around you and rub your belly while you talk

Talks to the baby, even when you're asleep

"I can feel you kicking in there. Let's let mommy sleep, hm? She gets cranky at daddy when she's tired."

Watches parenting videos

Loves showering with you since you can't take baths

When you joke that there's not much room anymore he'll say he knows that and pulls you closer

Shaves your legs for you when it gets too difficult, even if you're too shy to ask him

Buys you gifts every time he gets something for the baby

"The mom group says it's important for me to make you feel as loved and wanted as the baby."

^ has joined mom groups on social media, because "dad groups are just full of men complaining"

Calls him/her 'the little one'

"How are you? How was the little one today?"

Isn't overprotective but has moments when he hovers

You don't mind

Sex is always slow and full of giggles and him reassuring you when you're out of breath

He likes you on your back so he can kiss you and keep pressure off of you, arms on either side of you to support his weight

Likes taking naps with you even though you're always napping due to exhaustion

^ rarely actually sleeps, just wants to be near you and the baby

Knows your cravings by heart

"Pickle juice and french fries? That's a new one."

His nesting is as bad as yours if not worse; you both frantically clean the house months before the baby arrives

Loves when you send him selfies/belly pics

Isn't fazed by your emotions, helps you work through them and validates you

"Being pregnant doesn't mean you aren't allowed to have feelings, pretty girl. I'm here."

Yunho

Probably the most excited externally

Loves rubbing your belly and watching the baby kick his hand

Unironically purchased the "I'm proof daddy doesn't play video games all the time" onesie

Brings you ice cream even if you don't ask for it

"I'm telepathically linked with our baby, he/she said they want ice cream. I don't make the rules, y/n."

p r e g n a n c y k i n k

"Look at you, so fucking pretty and full."

Sex is unbelievably gentle despite his filthy words

Won't put you on your back, likes to have you in his lap so he can do all the work

Likes taking you out and showing you off, even when you feel like a mess

Posts pictures of you constantly to the point where people joke he's running a y/n maternity account

Foot rubs

Sympathy pains

"Our heartburn is bad today. I want a cinnamon roll. With sprinkles."

Teases you relentlessly

"I'll race you to the kitchen—oh yeah."

Handsy af but you don't mind

Walks up behind you to hold your belly

Sits up at night to rub it when the baby won't settle

He/she loves Yunho's voice and they begin kicking when he speaks

^ he uses this to his advantage

"Mommy's calling herself ugly again, I'm gonna need some backup from my internal ally."

Already 2 v 1 and the thing isn't even here yet

His google search history is worse than yours

^ "can pregnant women eat carrots"

"how long does pregnancy really last"

"how to make pregnant woman stop crying"

"why is my pregnant girlfriend crying"

"why am I crying"

"how to stop crying when your pregnant girlfriend cries"

Loves when people ooh and awe over you; beams and grins like an idiot bc you're his and he put the baby in you.

Yeosang

Seems calm

Is not calm

Is just as protective/concerned as Hongjoong but is so quiet about it you don't even notice

You haven't lifted a grocery bag since he found out about your pregnancy

Has the dates of your appointments memorized

No one touches the belly. He doesn't even say anything to anyone. They just don't.

Does little things to make sure you're extra comfortable, bought you a pregnancy pillow

Whispers to your belly

^ "I'm afraid my voice will scare the baby. I'll just whisper."

Pouts if the baby won't kick for him

You: "Please, Yeosang, for the millionth time fetuses cannot choose favorites! Our baby loves you, I promise!"

King of pregnancy cravings

2 a.m. runs to the convenience store because you want some strawberry milk

Forehead kisses with a hand on your belly >>>

Will literally get on his knees for a chat with him/her

Like imagine looking down and seeing this man smiling up at you, both hands on your tummy with so much love in his eyes I just—

His calm facade dissolves when you cry

It physically hurts him to see you break down and he will do all he can to help you

Talks about you nonstop and your symptoms, experiences, etc literally to anyone with ears

Signs you both up for a parenting class

Cannot believe how horny you are, but is happy to help

^ a little afraid of you tbh but still very much in love

Like Hongjoong, prefers side sex so he can still be close to you

Also loves foreplay/eating you out even more now because of how sensitive you are

Ultrasound visits/pics make him choked up though he tries to hide it

His brain has not processed the fact that his baby is literally inside of you

It isn't going to fully sink in until there's a baby in his arms

^ is never going to put him/her down

San

Proud Dad™

Is excited, but calm

Similar to Yeosang but not as intense

^ still protective, but doesn't mind when people touch your belly as long as they ask first

Buys two copies of baby books for you both to read at the same time

Posts pictures of your pregnancy journey with quotes or long paragraphs about how beautiful you are

lowkey pregnancy kink?

Cautious

Armchair sex/you in his lap - super slow and soft

Loves showering with you after to hold you and massage your back/shoulders

Doesn't necessarily treat you like you'll break but is still very gentle with you

Hugs are softer, he doesn't squeeze as tight, likes to hug you from behind and look over you to see what you're doing

Touches your belly in a reassuring way, likes to brush his hand against it and feel the baby's reaction

Does it in public probably the most of the members, though it's not really intentional

His hands used to go to your waist and now they go to your bump ~

Doesn't talk to the baby as much as he sings to him/her

Is way too excited to take maternity photos

Gets caught staring at you by literally everyone

Does not care

Thinks you hung the stars

Loooooves being snuggled in bed with you with your bump between you, rubbing your belly and whispering as though the baby is sleeping

Is very expressive about his fears/doubts and wants you to be as well

Blushes when people call him daddy

Blushes harder when you call him daddy

Pretty calm when it comes to your emotions, will just go with the flow and give you what you need, whether that's space, affection, or food

secretly hopes you want another one

Mingi

When I tell you this man is terrified

Does not think he can care for a baby despite your reassurance

Asks all the questions

"I mean, how do we know when it's done? You know, like, cooked all the way?"

Oddly protective despite his fears

Does not like anyone touching your belly

Any time someone comments on your size/roundness/etc he's ready to throw hands, does not care if it's the ajumma two doors down from you

You: "Mingi for the love of god, I have told you, you cannot threaten people."

"She threatened you first!"

You: "She just said I look ready to pop??"

Horny af and has a pregnancy kink but will not initiate sex

You have to beg, and even then it's like ~

"No I mean just stand there, and I'll hold you and put it in. Yeah don't move at all."

Will still eat you out daily

Treats you like a glass doll

Belly kisses >>>>>

Buys baby books, gets one page in and declares this is too much to remember and you both should get a refund

^ shrugs at your look of horror "obviously I meant a refund for the books..."

Raps??? at your belly? Like nursery rhyme raps????

Also talks. A lot. Not cooing or baby talk

"Today at practice I slipped and it sucked, kinda hurt my knee. I'm still a good dancer, definitely better than Yunho. I'll show you. But I mean like after you can walk and stuff, or maybe you'll dance before you can walk and we can win money or something. Do they have baby dance competitions?"

Doesn't post the pictures he takes of you and your belly, looks at them when he misses you and won't let anyone else see them

Unironically refers to himself as your baby daddy and changes his contact in your phone [proudly]

When you cry, he cries, so please don't cry

Asks if he can attend his own child's birth

^ is excited when you say "...yes, Mingi. You can attend the birth of our child."

Wooyoung

Knows all there is to know about babies??

Is not concerned at all

Reassures you constantly

You ask him questions

Will lay on your thighs and absentmindedly rub your belly while watching tv or scrolling on his phone

Actually, will rub your belly anywhere, and usually does it without realizing it

Refers to you as mama and himself as dada even out of context

"Do you want a drink, mama?"

Is completely unfazed by your weird cravings and will get them for you as long as it's not harmful

"No, y/n, you cannot have sushi with your oreos. Mercury levels..."

Not overprotective in the slightest

Your biggest advocate

The only member who would fuck you properly while pregnant, as he knows it's safe within reason

Does not have a pregnancy kink, but loves how sensitive you are, the changes to your body, etc and thinks you're a goddess

Loves going shopping with you

Will absolutely argue with you over nursery themes

Finds you adorable when you're emotional, but will still try to calm you down and comfort you

Loves talking about you nonstop

May not praise you to your face as much as the others but tells everyone else he's so incredibly lucky to have you as the mother of his child

He was so clingy before

It's worse

His camera roll is full of selfies with him and your bump

Imagine woo making bunny ears over your belly (and telling your unborn child to say cheese)

Has full on conversations with him/her

Baby talks and coos and informs them they have the best parents ever

Jongho

Probably the most genuinely calm member when it comes to your pregnancy

Still very excited

Does not know as much as wooyoung but is fairly confident, not terrified or anxious like some of the others

Touches your belly from day 1, even without a bump

Sings and hums to it

The baby LOVES his voice and always kicks when he's near

He finds this adorable and loves talking to him/her while touching your stomach

Massages >>>>

Your pregnancy aches are afraid of him

Is a little shaken by your emotions but handles them well

Not too overprotective but really hates it when people touch you

Won't say anything though unless you're uncomfy

Sex?

Dear god

2ho breeding/pregnancy kink is my headcanon and I am sticking with it

Do not make eye contact for more than a few seconds

Is unbelievably horny for you

Doggy style with pillows underneath you >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Is extra gentle despite how badly he wants you

Takes care of you first also ^ he knows it helps you relax so that's always his end goal

Loves the way you look while pregnant

Thinks you're beautiful anyway but something about the fact that you're literally creating a brand new human being

When you wear his t-shirts and nothing else because your clothes don't fit anymore it makes him melt ~

^ he complains for the fun of it but would probably cry if you stopped

Brings you snacks/drinks/whatever without you having to ask

Is willing to try your cravings with you as long as it's nothing vile (frito chips + peanut butter)

Wants to do every social media pregnancy trend with you

*buys your unborn child soccer cleats*

Doesn't post photos of you often but when he does, they're tearjerkers

Wants more kids but knows how difficult pregnancy/motherhood is so ultimately it's up to you

He's the cutest - kissing your temple while snuggling on the couch and rubbing your belly

"Our baby bear"

[winxmia]

hez so cute I’m blushing🤭🤗🥰🎀🍼

[kpoptrashlord-007]

Apple Cider;; CJH

Word Count;; 1.1k

Genre;; Fluff, Neighbour AU

Pairing;; Jongho x Reader

Summary;;

Jongho is the most selfless man you’ve ever met. Without hesitation he’s made what could have been the scariest experience of your life much more comfortable and one hundred percent less lonely. It only makes sense that you’d repay all his kindness with a home-cooked meal… now if only you could get your racing nerves on board.

“Warnings”;;

Awkward dorks in love, just cuteness overload tbh!!

Notes;;

Day Twenty-Two (Holiday Lights) of the KPOP Christmas “Drabble” Challenge!

Someone please pray this scenario into existence for me y’all, though I’d probably combust on the spot

Part of the set of fics I wrote before my hiatus but this one is still so good!!

Main Masterlist | ATZ Masterlist | 25 Days of Christmas

A loud clatter against the panelling of your home draws your attention outside. Through the frost-lined window, you catch sight of your neighbour’s shoulder. He’s armed with a coil of lights. They hang off his bicep as he reaches overhead. Despite the chilly weather, he’s without a coat. The sleeve of his shirt hugs his muscles in all the right places.

Tearing your eyes away from your much-too-handsome neighbour, you busy yourself with the fresh-baked cookies waiting to be decorated. You made them with Jongho in mind, and they needed to be your best creation yet to truly express your gratitude. He’s been your knight in shining armour ever since you moved into the neighbourhood. Even something as tedious as wrapping the entire house in Christmas lights right after he did the same to his own home goes by without any expectations or complaints.

By the time the front door swings open, the kitchen smells delicious. Sugar, spice and everything nice lingers in the air. Puffs of steam swirl above the two piping hot mugs of apple cider tea. Wiping your hands clean on your apron, you double-check the small meal you’ve prepared. Everything is in order.

“All done,” Jongho calls out from the entrance hall, clapping his hands together. His boots echo against the hardwood floors with each step. Standing at the kitchen’s threshold, he clears his throat. “You’re officially festive. Let me know if you need any decorations set up, too, okay? Those little motors can be a hassle.”

“I can’t thank you enough,” you say as you carry the small plate of treats to the dining table. Without missing a beat he jumps in to help, taking the mugs as he follows you.

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, you’re a lifesaver.” Offering him your best smile, you lift your shoulders in an awkward shrug. “Would you like a cookie?”

He laughs, nodding. “That would be nice, as long as I’m not imposing.”

“No, no, no. Please, sit. I made them for you, anyway.”

“You did?” His eyebrow quirks but he sits, grabbing one of the smaller cookies. It’s malleable in his large hand, soft and squishy as he breaks it into bite-size chunks. Within seconds of trying your baking (for the first time no less!) his eyes widen and the corners of his lips lift into a concealed smile.

Resisting the urge to jump up and down, you pop into the kitchen to grab a dessert plate. This is going well! There’s no reason to worry. You just need to bite the bullet and ask him over for dinner… not a big deal at all, it’ll be easy! With a determined exhale, you roll your shoulders and stretch your neck side to side before gliding back into the dining room.

“It’s the least I could do.” After you place the little ceramic saucer on his placemat, you gesture toward his mug. “I hope you don’t mind tea– oh, you look cold! Should I turn the heat up?”

His already pink-tinged cheeks flush deeper. Shaking his head, he swallows down his food. “I’m okay. Everything is perfect. Thank you.”

You can’t hold back your relieved sigh. “Good. That’s good.”

A beat of silence passes and once more your nerves start to rumble. If you can’t even manage to keep the mood light over a small bite, just how will you survive a full meal? And aren’t you standing too close to him? You can smell his cologne: smoked oak and pine needles. It’s strong and bold just like him. The longer you drink him in, both into your lungs and into your memory, the less you want to leave.

Falling headfirst into his vast, warm eyes, you open your mouth to pop that little question you both need yet fear the answer to. He leans a little closer and your gaze drops to his plush lips. They’re dry from the cold and a jolt of guilt gnaws at you. It isn’t a matter of asking him out but repaying his kindness. It’s the least you can do.

Determination renewed, you’re ready.

“Your apron is cute.”

His words hit you from out of left field. Taken aback, you glance down at the festive design and grin. “You’re cute.”

What?

What?

Short-circuiting and overwhelmed by the embarrassment surging through your stunned body, you gape at him.

“Cute?” He frowns, looking down at his plate. You flounder for a moment, unable to form the necessary words to remedy the situation. It isn’t until his ardent eyes chase away your worries and a wholehearted smile returns to his face that you still. “Not handsome? Strong? Manly? Just cute?”

“Well,” you trail off, wringing your hands together. “You’re quite handsome and very strong, that goes without saying. But you’re gentle and kind, too.”

Hiding his expression in the hollow of his shoulder, he waves away the compliment. A few crumbs fall onto the plate as he rubs his hands together. He takes a long sip of his now-cold tea before smacking his lips and mumbling out ‘that’s good’. Taking great lengths to avoid eye contact, he observes your light fixture as he stands. Worried he’s found something that might require repairs, you lean toward him to get a better look.

Before you can stop yourself you bump into him. His stance is firm and steady. Unfortunately, yours is not. Losing your balance, your hand flings out to grip his arm. His muscles flex beneath your touch. Your chin presses against his chest as he turns to catch you. Once more his cologne surrounds you. With nowhere to look except up, you watch his features soften from alarm into concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Just admiring the view.”

Jongho shakes his head, cheeks rising as he grins. “Cute.”

“I’m never living that down.” When you’re back on your feet and you’ve ironed your apron straight from the sheer friction of your overzealous hands, you nudge his shoulder. Once more he doesn’t budge. “But seriously, what would I do without you?”

Instead of an answer you receive a boop! on your nose.

While you stand blinking away your confusion, one of his pinky fingers brushes against your outer palm. His voice is tender as he asks, “Can I take you out for dinner tonight?”

Thrown deeper into bewilderment, you stammer and splutter. “You can’t ask me that!”

“Why not?”

“Because I was go– I had a plan, and now you… I was going to ask you out!”

“Then I accept,” he says, cupping your chin. Warmth blossoms everywhere his skin meets yours. Pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead, he lingers until his touch ingrains upon you. Even when he pulls away you feel the softness of his lips. “How does eight o’clock sound?”

If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and following!

Thank you! – ♡ –

[03jyh23]

༘⋆mon's 500 followers special.ᐟ.ᐟ 500-word prompt roulette⟢

☕️┆more than just coffee

kim hongjoong x gn! reader

│synopsis: the one where hongjoong finally makes a move

│genre: fluff

│trigger warnings: none

│roulette prompt 4 + hongjoong

You were sprawled across the sofa in Hongjoong's studio. Being his best friend meant regular visits to his studio were mandatory - especially when armed with his favorite iced coffee. Though if anyone asked you, the coffee was just a bonus - you were the real gift, a fact you never failed to remind him whenever he pretended to be annoyed by your surprise appearances.

"...and the deadline is in two days! TWO DAYS! How am I supposed to finish this track when the company keeps changing their mind about the direction?" Hongjoong ran his fingers through his blue hair, sprawling on his chair.

You watched him with a small smile playing on your lips, finding his passionate rant endearing. His dedication to his work was one of the things you admired most about him.

Mid-rant, he caught your expression and stopped abruptly. "What?" he asks as your smile only widens, making him suddenly self-conscious. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

You smile. "You're just really cute when you talk."

Hongjoong's face flushes a deep red, and he quickly spins his chair back to face his computer screen. "I-I'm not cute," he mutters, but you can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "And stop distracting me, I need to work."

You got up from the sofa. "Alright, if you really want me to go..." you tease as you take your bag.

Hongjoong's head snaps up immediately, his eyes widening. "Wait, no - I didn't mean..." He trails off, looking torn between his work and not wanting you to leave. "Just... stay a bit longer? Please?"

"Only if you'll agree that you are cute," you say as you come close to him, ruffling his blue fringe. It always surprised you how he maintained his hair so soft while bleaching it at least twice a month. He takes your wrist, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want you thinking I'm cute," he almost whispers, tone suddenly serious as the atmosphere changes. "Y/N... do you really see me only as your cute friend?"

Your heart skips a beat at his question, at the intensity in his gaze as he still holds your wrist. The playful atmosphere from moments ago has shifted into something charged with unspoken feelings. You open your mouth to answer, but the words catch in your throat.

"What do you mean?" you ask softly, though your racing heart tells you that you know exactly what he means.

Hongjoong's grip on your wrist loosens, but he doesn't let go. His thumb traces small circles on your skin, "I mean... when you look at me, when you come here with coffee and make me laugh even on my worst days, when you stay despite my workaholic tendencies... what do you feel?"

You let out an awkward laugh, the sound coming out more like a puff of air than anything else. Your heart is thundering in your chest.

"I..." you start, trying to find the right words while fighting the urge to deflect with humor like you usually do. Your palms are sweaty, and you're terrified of ruining years of friendship with what you might say next. "I come here because..." you pause, swallowing hard. "Because I like being around you, you’re my best friend..." The last part comes out barely above a whisper, and you can't quite meet his eyes.

Hongjoong's hands tighten slightly around your wrist, and you can feel him tense at your words. "Best friend," he repeats, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. "Fuck it," he mutters, rising from his chair abruptly. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you closer, leaving barely any space between you. His eyes flicker to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "Maybe this will change your mind," he whispers, and before you can process what's happening, he closes the remaining distance.

His lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, soft and hesitant at first, as if he's giving you a chance to pull away. But when you respond by sliding your hands up to his shoulders, he deepens the kiss, one hand moving to cup your face while the other wraps around your waist.

You pull back, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. "Well," you say with a nervous laugh, "I don't remember this being in the friendship contract. Did we miss a clause somewhere?"

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, giving you a light push. "Really? That's what you're going with right now?" He drops back into his chair, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout. "Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you make dad jokes."

"It's part of my charm," you say, but your voice wavers slightly, still affected by the kiss.

"You're impossible," he mutters, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitching, fighting a smile.

"I like you too," you blurt out suddenly, making Hongjoong freeze. "And not just as a friend. I... I've liked you for a while now."

His eyes light up, a genuine smile breaking across his face. "Yeah?" he asks softly, reaching for your hand.

"Yeah," you confirm, intertwining your fingers with his. "Though I have to warn you, the coffee deliveries might get more expensive now that we're dating."

Hongjoong's eyebrows shoot up, and he gives you an incredulous look. "Oh, so we're dating now? Just like that?" He leans back in his chair with an amused smirk. "I don't remember being asked on a proper date yet. The audacity!"

You laugh, squeezing his hand. "Are you saying you want me to woo you, Kim Hongjoong?"

"I'm just saying," he says with an exaggerated sniff, "that a person of my caliber deserves at least a proper dinner invitation before being claimed as someone's boyfriend."

"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes fondly. "Kim Hongjoong, would you like to go on a date with me? Maybe somewhere that serves better coffee than what I bring you?"

His face breaks into that bright smile you love so much. "Now was that so hard?" he teases, pulling you closer. "And for the record, no coffee tastes better than the ones you bring me."

You pull him into another kiss, softer this time, filled with all the unspoken feelings you've held back for so long. When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his, both of you wearing matching grins. "So, about that date..." you start, but Hongjoong's already reaching for his coat.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

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[seonghwaddict]

23:46 — song mingi

in which your best friend is a little hard to wake up.

roommate!song mingi x fem!reader. genre. friends to lovers. fluff. timestamp. warnings. lots of kisses. wc. 1k. rating. pg-13.

lilo's notes. hiii here's a cute little mingi fic because i love him so much :3

listening to. you're mine, you!, chet baker

masterlist.

a quiet chuckle leaves your lips as you walk into the living room, finding your roommate fast asleep on the couch. mingi snored softly, sprawled out with his black playstation controler dangling from his hand for dear life.

you just wanted to grab a snack from the kitchen, but instead you made a detour to crouch beside the couch and take the controler from his hand as gently as you could. not that taking it from him forcefully would’ve made any difference; he could sleep through a category five hurricane. once you set the controller on the small coffee table, you reached for the glasses that squished against his nose.

he didn’t stir as you nudged his shoulder gently. at first you felt bad about having to wake him, but the distinct memories of him whining about his shoulder hurting after sleeping on the couch flashed through your mind.

“mingi…” you whispered softly, nudging him again, “mingi, wake up.”

after the third nudge he muttered something, though you could quite tell what. with your hand resting on his should as he pushed his face further into the pillow beneath his head, you sighed and moved to get up. but before you could register it, a hand wrapped around your write and pulled you down on the couch, legs tangling with yours and his other hand keeping you close by the small of your back.

you held your breath as he began moving you, practically trapping you beneath his large body as he drags himself halfway on top of you, one leg slotted between yours. his short, washed-out pink hair tickled your cheek as he lifted his head to look at you. you would’ve laughed at the tired expression of his face, all pouting lips and squinting eyes.

“i tried to wake you.” your voice came out a lot higher than you intended, not realising you almost felt flustered at your current position.

his eyes fluttered shut again and he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, making you tense for a moment before relaxing. his voice gravelly in his newly awake state, he spoke against the soft skin of your neck, “why”

“you always complain about your neck hurting when you sleep on the couch, i was trying to get you to move and sleep in your bed but you wouldn’t wake up.”

your answer has him humming understandingly, nuzzling his face further into your neck. your best friend was usually quite affectionate, however, this felt different from the more common cuddles during movie nights or occasional hand holding. you chalked it up to him not being fully awake, mind still hazy from his nap. at least until you felt the first of his kisses along your neck. they were so soft they were easy to miss, yet still the unmistakable brush of his lips that you sometimes found yourself wanting to feel against yours.

still, you didn’t protest, tentatively moving one of your hands up to brush through the hair at the nape of his neck. this only encouraged him, another hum vibrating against your skin. a soft sigh slipped passed your lips as his large hand moved to the small of your back to your waist, thumb carressing you through your flimsy white tanktop. with his body pressed against yours and his lips kissing anywhere he could reach comfortably, you relaxed, letting yourself lean your head back against the plush sofa.

“mingi,” you finally pulled yourself together to ask, “what are you doing?”

“just… just holding you,” he muttered against you. his kisses were tender and didn’t hold any sense of urgency, lazy presses against your pulse. “you feel nice, you smell nice, and you’re so warm. let me just hold you for a bit, please?”

it almost sounded like he was pleading when he asked you to let him do so and you found it hard to say no. in general, you found it hard to say no to anything he asked. so, you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper and making him lift his head to look down at you. moments turned into seconds which turned into minutes as your surroundings blurred and all you could think of was the tender look in his eyes as he leaned forward. he paused, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop, but at the sight of the slightest of nods he couldn’t hold himself back from brushing his lips against yours. his hand on your waist tightened for a second as he pulled away, holding himself up with his other hand, forearm supporting him as his face hovered above yours.

he took in the sight of you beneath him, gaze flickering all over your face as he tried to memorise the sparkling look of your round eyes and your tiny puffs of air. there’s a smile tugging at his plush lips, barely noticeable but enough to make your cheeks warm even more. and when he spoke, his voice was no longer rough with sleep, but a gentle whisper only for you to hear.

“please tell me this isn’t a dream.”

you almost laughed at the endearing question but opted to smile instead, your hands cupping his cheeks. “no, this isn’t dream.”

“good,” he spoke through a sigh, sounding oh so content, “you’re just so pretty.”

a comfortable silence washed over you as he lowered himself to press another kiss against your lips. this time he let himself stay longer, he found the taste of your lips addicting, getting lost in the way they feel against his tongue as he swiped it along your bottom lip. when you parted for air, he rested his forehead against yous, breath mingling. the rest of the night was spent through lazy kisses and loving words that left you confused at the relationship you shared with him. but before you could ask about it, you had both fallen asleep, wrapped in each others arms on the couch you had tried so hard to get him off of.

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo

[seobinghard]

FASHION DESIGNER!HONGJOONG x PA!READER

imagine being designer!joong's personal assistant. yeah, your life's hell. is the pay good? not even. you're only doing it for the experience because a year of working for kim hongjoong opens a million doors for the rest of your career—at least that's what you heard from the grapevine (linkedin), and they're right. your boss, as pedantic as he is handsome, is a 'somebody'; a book of the industry's most valuable contacts.

the hours are gruelling; long nights, early starts.

and don't get you started on the four am fittings and god forbid, seoul fashion week. hell on earth. there's no such thing as sleep, oh no, hongjoong will put you on iv drips if he has to keep you awake. and he did—thrice (he fed you steak and bought you prada afterwards tho).

sometimes, he'll call you at three in the morning for cappuccino—searing hot, and of course, you deliver because you're—get this—competent. yes, the brightest of all the pa's joong's ever had. anything he wants. you produce. archive rick owens, sixteen skirts from calvin klein, "get jarrod from dsquared on the phone", unreleased gq, "find out if byeon wooseok's attending the vogue afterparty"—anything he wants, you deliver on a silver platter with a crisp white napkin on the side.

hongjoong convinces himself the reason he's kept you around for this long is because you're good at what you do, not because he has a soft spot for you or anything, no, no.

until he accidentally overhears you whispering to your stylist friends about leaving the job. leaving him.

his heart sinks. in rage and betrayal.

you're in joong's car, he's driving today. weird, you thought. you always drove.

"heard you wanna quit," he mutters. it's not a question.

you swallow the shock on your face. how did he find out? "what? me? no way!" that totally sounded convincing. you turn towards the window, cringing.

hongjoong chuckles, "you're a shit liar." there's something in the air you can't quit comprehend. unspoken tension; it feels intimate, warm. "i know it hasn't been easy for you. but if you're planning to quit, don't." the next thing he says leaves you breathless. "i need you."

you don't know what to say. you want to scream at him; yell in his face to stop being hot and cold with you, stop sending you on cappuccino runs at three am, stop treating you like shit then buying you prada afterwards AHHH—but alas, he's your boss. a hot one too. makes you nervous. so you spit out the first thing that's been on your mind since you first took this job.

"ten percent raise," you blurt out meekly.

hongjoong nods, as if he's known. "how bout fifteen, and come to paris fashion week with me?" he glances at you, eyes expecting. this time, it's a question.

"do i get to keep the designer gifts and pr packages?" you press, feeling a bit cheeky.

hongjoong smiles, "you know i always let you."

"put it in writing."

his eye twitches. you little–

m.list

[dollerin]

DIETPEPSI ⋆˚࿔ JWY

ׂ ִ 𝓟𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑠. 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌．． 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍. • 𝐩. 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽!wooyoung 𝗑 𝑓.𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝐠. 𝑠𝑢𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒, 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝓈 𝐰. 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝑒𝑡𝑐. | 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊.

the radio was the only other sound playing in the background other than the occasional hums coming from wooyoung. you both were pressed against each other in the back of his corvette, lips attached to one another.

it was supposed to be a regular summer evening where you and your best friend went for a drive, blasting your music as loud as you could and living life like you were still teenagers. that was the plan, not this.

you knew this wasn’t supposed to happen. friends aren’t supposed to kiss. friends aren’t supposed to touch each other the way wooyoung touched you. but neither of you could help it.

the kiss became more intense, wooyoung gripped the sides of your thighs, pulling you closer—if that was even possible. his tongue dragged across your bottom lip, tasting the faint hint of diet pepsi you’d been taking sips of only an hour ago.

“woo,” you tried to say his name in between kisses, but he was too distracted. his lips traveled from your lips, to your cheek, and down to your neck within a few seconds.

“w-wooyoung,” you called him again, letting out a shaky breath. he hummed in response, lips attached to your neck, probably creating a mark.

your fingers tangled in the back of his long hair, gripping onto him like you were about to lose the last bit of sanity you had.

“we can’t do this.”

“why not?”

“because we’re friends.”

“so what?” he chuckled lowly, his hand coming to squeeze your cheeks together lightly, pulling you in for another kiss.

he pecked your lips once, “friendship won’t change the way i feel about you, love.”

💌 ──── something quick before i head to bed :p inspo by addison rae’s ‘diet pepsi’

[letsgoletsgetit08]

ateez soft hours pt. 1

how they would treat you while you're on your period

hyung line

warnings: mdni, period sex, smut

word count: 1.9k

ao3 link: hyung line

author's note: I'm feeling some type of way, okay? Don't look at me.

park seonghwa: He knows how sensitive you are while on your period so he takes full advantage of it to help you feel good.

A black towel placed down on his bed, guiding you on top of it, nimble fingers pulling down the blindfold and placing noise cancelling headphones over your ears, playing entrancing music to help you get out of your own head and just let yourself feel everything.

Soft fingers tracing feather-light over your sensitive body, the swell of your breasts, nipples going hard immediately at his touch. The softest carress - he knows they get sore, too.

Gooseflesh rising on your skin as his fingers trace down further, over the swell of your stomach, down to your thighs. Kisses soft as raindrops fall up the inside of your legs.

He knows his touch alone could probably send you over the edge, but he's not one to tease when you're in this state.

Finally, his fingers find your clit and he begins to add pressure, before dipping down further into your folds, using the wetness that has pooled at your core to help his fingers work you with less friction.

It doesn't take long for you to careen over the edge, hips bucking. You can hear him praise you over the music, "Such a good girl, always so good for me."

He slips the blindfold and headphones off one after the other, dipping in to kiss you as your legs wrap around his waist so that he can push inside of you. He knows the sex will help with your cramps, but he's more gentle than usually, laying long, languid strokes, the tip of his dick dragging deliciously over your sweet spot over and over and over until your abs are clenching, your walls milking him for all he's worth with your second orgasm.

You shower together and he wraps you up tight in bed, massaging your lower back and kissing your neck as you fall asleep.

kim hongjoong: He leaves the studio early for you after you text him complaining about how bad your cramps are. He comes by your apartment with takeout and heats up your hot water bottle for you while you get situated on the couch after spending all day in agony in bed.

He eats with you and watches an episode of the silly dating show you've been binging with you until he has to continue working, letting you put your feet in his lap as he works on his laptop.

He can only work for so long before he starts glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You look so cute in his sweatshirt, lip stuck out in a pout as you try to ignore the pain and concentrate on the show. Eventually, his hand moves from your calf to your thigh, unable to stop himself from giving it a small sqeeze. Your legs part instinctively, allowing his hand to trace up further. You can feel the warmth of his hand through the thin fabric of your sleep pants and the sensation drives you crazy. You scooch down on the couch a little so he can reach further up, which he does, fingers nearly to where you're craving them to be.

You let our a small whimper and he either hears it or can just read your mind at that point, fingers finally landing on your still-clothed clit. You grind your hips into them, seeking friction, gaping at the smile curling up at the corner of his mouth.

He set a steady rhythm until you can't take it anymore, sitting up and staring him down until he clicks a few more times, saving the file he's working on, and drops his laptop and headphones a little carelessly onto the coffee table before pulling you into his lap. You straddle his thigh as he begins kissing you, hands gentle as they guide your hips down onto him.

The friction and pressure are everything and you're about to fall apart when he whispers, "Go ahead, darling. Make yourself feel good. I love when you use me." His thumb finds your clit again through your pants and you fall forward to his shoulder, rutting against him a few more times until you find yourself tumbling into pleasure, breathing hard as he praises you, "There we go baby. Feels better now, doesn't it?"

You hum an acknowledgement, already about to slip into sleep. He realizes and picks you up, walking you to your bed, where he tucks you in for the night, kissing your forehead before he goes back into the living room to continue working for a few more hours. He joins you later that night and lets you roll practically on top of him, rubbing your back in comforting circles as he drifts to sleep.

jeong yunho: He knows you're extra aroused while menstruating and takes full advantage of this fact. Orders in steak and cheesecake because "You need the extra iron and protein right now, honey." The cheesecake is just because you like it. But that will be saved for later. The red wine he brings over goes with the steak, though.

You eat until he is satisfied, sipping on your wine as the food digests. He listens attentively as you complain about your discomfort throughout the day, never making you feel silly for your vulnerability, face looking concerned as you talk. He kisses your hand, "I wish I could take all the pain away from my princess." His eyes darken as he kisses all the way up the inside of your forearm, sending shivers down your spine. You feel yourself getting slick, thighs clencing together, which doesn't go unnoticed by Yunho.

He stands up slowly from the couch, pulling you up with him and into a deep kiss that turns desperate and messy very quickly. His hands grope your ass and you moan into his mouth. A few quick movements and he has you bent over the armrest of the couch, pants ripped down, teasing your aching cunt with his cock.

He likes that your blood serves as extra lubrication. Not that you need it. He makes you so wet so easily. But it never hurts, especially with how big he is. The stretch as he enters you never gets old, feeling especially incredible right now. You suck him in greedily and he starts fucking you, snapping his hips exactly how he knows you need it.

"Fuck, baby, you feel amazing. So tight. God, I love watching myself disappear into you, you have no idea." His hands find your waist and you feel his thumbs rub circles into your lower back where he knows you carry pain during your time of month. One of them slips all the way around, long fingers finding your throbbing clit and it only takes a few more strokes, which he lays in time with the strokes of his fingers, before you're clenching around his considerable girth. He finishes quickly behind you, filling you to the brim.

His cock glistens red when he pulls out. You'd be more embarrassed, but you know he finds it hot.

You shower together afterwards, and he can't resist getting you off again, with deft, precise fingers.

kang yeosang: "Oh no! My poor angel. Stay right where you are, I'm leaving work early. I'll be there soon, okay darling?" His voice is so sweet over the phone. You feel tears pool in your eyes. You know it's partly just the hormones, but goddamn do you love Kang Yeosang.

"Aw, baby, you don't have to-" You start to protest.

"Uh-uh. Nope. My sweetheart is not going to suffer alone. I won't take no for an answer." You smile at his soft lisp, knowing that he's telling the truth. He might be the most gentle person you've ever met, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like being in control.

"Okay, if you insist." You sigh into the phone.

"Good girl." You can picture the smile on his face as he says it, knowing that it drives you mad with need every time. "See you soon, love."

Thirty minutes later, he's unlocking the door to your apartment with the copy of the key you made him, pint of ice cream clutched in one hand.

"Hi baby!" He calls to you from your spot in bed, "Stay there, I'm just grabbing spoons."

He's the one taking care of you, but you end up wiping the corners of his mouth where he's managed to get ice cream while eating it with you in your bed. "Messiest eater I know." You tease him.

"How do you know I'm not saving that for later?" He acts affronted.

"Because." You kiss him on the cheek, "You're sweet enough already, you don't need the extra sugar on your face to prove it."

He giggles, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, well, I don't have to make sense right now, all my blood has left my brain and has formed a sentient knife demon in my uterus that is trying to stab its way out from the inside." You fix him with big puppy dog eyes.

"Hmm..." He considers what you've said, "Well then you'd better start calling me 'Demonslayer.'"

"Huh-?" He doesn't let you finish computing what he just said, pulling you into a real kiss, turning so that he's pushing you into the mattress.

He has your pants down in an instant, face plunging between your legs, tongue expertly teasing your clit, exploring your folds, dipping low to circle your entrance. He comes up for air, "I'll show you messy eater."

He's not joking, either. He's not satisfied until you've come on his face and around his fingers at least three times. He finally comes up for air, chin tinted slightly pink, face wet from your multiple orgasms, "How do you taste amazing even like this, angel? I swear, I'm the luckiest man on earth."

He draws you a bath afterwards, adding the lavender epsom salt mix he knows helps relax your muscles, never needing to be asked to do it. You lean back onto his chest in the bathtub and let him massage your neck and shoulders. His fingers slip down to your chest, soap making easy work of things as he cups your breasts in his hands, fingers teasing your nipples. He can't resist. He always loves making you feel good, but when you're extra sensitive, it's like a drug to him.

You're close to coming just from the attention to your nipples.

"Go ahead and touch yourself, angel," He whispers into your ear, "I've got you."

The added pressure between your legs as you touch yourself is all you needed to send waves of pleasure coursing through your body once more.

"Oh, there we go." His deep voice vibrates as it resonates in his chest, "I love watching you, darling. And such pretty noises you make for me."

"Thank you, Sangie." You pant, still coming down from your orgasm. You can tell he's hard behind you but he never lets you help him out when you're on your period. He insists it's all about you and making you feel good. His pleasure can wait. He gets enough of it just helping you get yours.

"Of course, my love." He kisses right below your earlobe.

Later, he grabs your favorite stuffy from your bookshelf and hands it to you to cuddle as he curls up to spoon you from behind. You usually let them sleep on the shelf when he's over, but he knows you find extra comfort in them when your're feeling especially emotional. He's everything you could have ever asked for and more.

[yunholic-jongholic]

could i request a woosan x soulmate au? it could be something like them being idols and used to each other and now they have a new addition to the bond so they’re kinda standoffish with the reader because they’re used to it being just them? orr it could be like a high school or college au where the reader hides from them because she’s scared of the bond? orrrrrr where each soulmate has a chibi that looks like them? (it doesn’t really matter which type of soul bond (like soul string, soulmate marks, soul touch etccc)

Tethered by Fate | C.S x Reader x J.WY

PAIRINGS | Choi San x Reader x Jung Wooyoung

RATING | Not really need a rating? But in case; 16+?

CONTENT WARNINGS | Soulmate AU, College AU, Soul string, Fluff, FLUFF, Nervous Encounters, Anxiety (Reader), Competition (WooSan), Jealousy, Flirting, PDA, F L U F F.

WORD COUNT | 10.8k

AUTHORS NOTE | YAY my first San story (and second Wooyoung!) I gotchu, I had to do some research on soulmates AU since I am still fairly new to it. I hope you enjoy! <3

•

You never asked for soulmates.

In a world where thin red threads faintly mark your wrist until they flare to life near the person fate ties you to, most people spent their lives waiting for that spark. But not you. The thought of destiny dictating who you should love — who you’re meant to belong to — felt more like a cage than a gift. So, when your thread began to thrum with heat one quiet afternoon in your second semester of college, your first instinct was fear.

And you ran.

It didn’t matter that the sensation wasn’t painful — just a soft, glowing warmth, buzzing with promise. It didn’t matter that it happened in the middle of the busy student union, surrounded by strangers and noise. What mattered was that it meant something — and you weren’t ready to face it.

Not if it meant them.

Wooyoung and San were hard to miss. Magnetic in completely different ways. Wooyoung, with his playful grin and boundless energy, could light up a room just by walking into it. San, all sharp focus and quiet depth, always seemed to notice what others didn’t. They were inseparable — best friends, roommates — already connected by a thread that glowed bright and sure.

And now, you were supposed to be the missing piece.

The second all three threads sparked to life, Wooyoung had let out a breathless laugh, San’s eyes had gone wide — and you’d turned on your heel and fled the building like it was burning.

---

You let out a long sigh as you closed the door behind you, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders like a stormcloud. The lock clicked into place — not just to keep them out, but to hold yourself in. Safe. Unreachable.

Hyojin, your best friend and roommate, barely glanced up from the couch, where a cheesy romcom played softly in the background. She raised an eyebrow, an all-too-knowing look on her face.

"Let me guess," she said, voice light but edged with concern. "Running from them again?"

You didn’t answer. You just dropped down beside her with a quiet thud, the couch dipping under your weight. The screen lit your face in soft colors — two strangers falling in love like it was simple, like it didn’t terrify them.

You wished you were that brave.

Hyojin didn’t press. She never did. She just nudged a blanket toward you with her foot, eyes still on the screen as if your whole world wasn’t quietly unraveling right beside her.

"You know, in these movies, the running only works for so long," she murmured, half-teasing, half-serious. "Eventually, the love interest shows up in the rain with a boombox or something dramatic."

You scoffed, curling up under the blanket. "Good thing it hasn’t rained."

"Yet," she added, casting a quick side glance your way. "And let’s be honest, if anyone’s showing up with a grand gesture, it’s Wooyoung."

You groaned, burying your face into a pillow. Just hearing his name made your thread pulse. Not painfully — it never was — but a low, steady ache that reminded you they were still there. Waiting.

"San wouldn’t," you muttered into the cushion. "He’d just stare at me until I broke into pieces."

Hyojin laughed, a soft and knowing sound. "Yeah. He has that vibe. All intense eye contact and poetic heartbreak."

You didn’t reply, but your silence was loud.

You wanted to say it wasn’t fair. That you didn’t ask for this — the connection, the glowing thread, the weight of expectation. But deep down, you knew it wasn’t about fair. It was about fear.

Because Wooyoung and San were real. They saw you. And worse — they wanted to.

And you weren’t sure you could handle what came next if you stopped running.

So instead, you sat there, pretending the movie was enough to keep your heart quiet, while your soul tugged in the direction of two people who refused to stop hoping.

---

Wooyoung paced.

Back and forth across the small dorm room, hands ruffling through his hair, his wrist glowing with that telltale red thread that never seemed to fade anymore. It hummed lightly — not in sound, but in feeling. Always there. Always warm. Always pointing toward you.

San sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, watching silently.

"She’s avoiding us again," Wooyoung muttered, more to himself than anything. "She saw me outside the art building and ran. Not walked, not slipped away. Ran. Like I was chasing her with a chainsaw."

San tilted his head slightly, his gaze calm but thoughtful. “You were holding a bouquet of red carnations.”

"...Okay, maybe that was a little intense."

San finally smiled, a flicker of amusement in his usually unreadable expression. But it faded quickly, replaced with the same quiet worry he’d been carrying since the threads lit up.

"She’s scared," he said simply. "It’s not us. It’s what we mean."

Wooyoung dropped down onto the bed beside him with a frustrated sigh. “But why be afraid of something that’s supposed to be… good? We’re not trying to force her. We haven’t even— We’re giving her space.”

"I know," San said. "But space doesn’t always feel like safety. Sometimes it just feels like distance. Like abandonment."

They both went quiet for a long moment.

Outside, campus life went on — students laughing in the hall, music drifting in through a slightly cracked window, the world moving forward while they stayed suspended in this waiting game.

"I just…" Wooyoung trailed off, looking down at the soft glow on his wrist. "I just want her to know we’re not here to trap her in some fate-shaped box. I want her to choose us. Not because of this—" he lifted his arm, the thread catching the light, "—but because she wants to."

San nodded slowly, eyes fixed on his own wrist. The thread stretched out into the unknown, toward you.

“She’ll come back,” he said quietly. “She just needs time.”

“And what if time doesn’t help?” Wooyoung whispered.

San’s answer was immediate, steady. “Then we wait longer.”

---

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep.

The romcom had ended. Hyojin had gone quiet beside you, her phone screen dimming as she dozed off mid-scroll. The apartment was wrapped in a soft kind of stillness — the kind that feels like it’s waiting for something to happen.

You stirred when a faint knock tapped against the door.

Once. Then twice. Soft, hesitant. Like whoever was on the other side wasn’t sure they should be there at all.

You sat up slowly, the blanket slipping off your shoulders. Hyojin blinked awake, squinting toward the door.

"Expecting someone?" she mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

You shook your head, already knowing — somehow — who it was. You couldn’t explain how you knew. The way your thread felt suddenly alive, humming low and warm, like it was holding its breath.

You padded to the door quietly, heart thudding too loud for how little had happened. You didn’t unlock it right away. Just pressed your forehead against the cool wood, eyes closed.

“Y/N?” Wooyoung’s voice was soft. Barely a whisper. “I’m not here to push. I just… I wanted to leave something.”

There was a pause.

Then the rustle of a paper bag.

“I made too many honey muffins. Thought you might want one. Or not. Either way—” he hesitated, then gave a short, nervous laugh, “—I figured it’s harder to be scared of someone who shows up with baked goods.”

You opened the door a crack just in time to see him walking away down the hall, hoodie pulled up, hands shoved into his pockets like he wasn’t holding his breath too.

On the floor, in front of your door, was a small brown bag. The smell of warm sugar and cinnamon leaked through.

No note. No pressure.

Just muffins.

Just Wooyoung.

You didn’t call after him. But you picked up the bag and held it close, something in your chest trembling with the gentleness of it all.

And for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel like running.

Later that night, the muffins sat on your desk — one half-eaten, the others untouched, like maybe if you didn’t finish them, the moment wouldn’t end.

You stared at your phone screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard. The soft light of your desk lamp cast a pale circle around you, everything else fading into a blur of shadows. The world outside your dorm was silent. Even Hyojin was asleep now, curled under a mountain of blankets.

And still, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. About them.

You opened your messages, fingers hesitating before typing:

Y/N

You didn’t have to do that. But… thank you. They were really good. My favorite, actually. I don’t hate you. Or San. I’m just… scared. Of what this means. Of what I might become if I let myself want it.

You paused.

Deleted the last line.

Rewrote it.

Y/N

I think I’m afraid that if I fall for you — both of you — I won’t know how to be myself anymore.

Your throat tightened.

You stared at the message, reread it once, twice. Your thumb hovered over the send button, a storm of emotion brimming just under your skin.

Then you locked your phone and set it face down.

It wasn’t time. Not yet.

But maybe soon.

Maybe tomorrow.

You curled up under your blanket, heart still buzzing from the echo of Wooyoung’s quiet kindness and San’s patient silence.

And even though the message remained unsent, for the first time… you thought about what it would feel like to stop being afraid.

---

San couldn’t sleep.

He lay in bed, one arm draped across his eyes, the other resting on his chest — right over the thread that hummed beneath his skin. It never stopped. Not since that day.

The moment it lit up — glowing bright red between him, Wooyoung, and you — something in him had shifted. Not like flipping a switch. More like discovering a second heartbeat he didn’t know he had.

And then you ran.

He didn’t blame you. Not really.

But the silence since then had been a strange kind of ache. Not sharp. Just there — constant, quiet, heavy. Like waiting for a storm that might never come, only clouds.

Wooyoung had tried to fill the space between you with light. San tried to respect the space at all.

But every day that passed, he caught himself watching doorways, scanning lecture halls, hoping for a glimpse. Hoping you'd look at them again the way you did, just before you fled — like your soul recognized something your fear wouldn’t let you reach for.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand.

He reached for it instinctively — the thread always made him hope.

Nothing. Just a group chat notification. Someone sending memes. Wooyoung, probably.

He glanced at your name in his messages. Still unopened. Still unread.

Still… nothing.

San sat up, feet touching the cold floor. His wrist glowed softly in the dark, casting a faint red light across his palm.

He whispered, to no one, to maybe you, “I’d wait forever, if that’s what you need.”

Because it wasn’t about the thread.

It was about you. Choosing him. Choosing them.

And until then, he’d keep the space open. Quiet. Gentle.

Ready.

---

The café was already buzzing with early morning energy — espresso machines hissing, students half-awake and wrapped in hoodies and oversized scarves, soft indie music playing through the speakers. You stood in line, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, scrolling through your notes to mentally prep for your first class.

Then it hit you.

That now-familiar jolt. Not harsh, but unmistakable — a spark beneath your skin, dancing along the glowing thread.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

Still, you did — and there he was. San, standing just a few people behind you, hair messy from sleep and hoodie half-zipped like he’d just rolled out of bed and sprinted here.

Your breath caught.

You turned quickly, tugging your own hoodie up over your head and shrinking a little into yourself, silently pleading with the universe to let him not see you.

But the universe had other plans.

“Hey! Y/N.” His voice was bright, but not too loud. Casual. Like this was just any morning, any moment. “Let me get that for you.”

You turned halfway, offering him a sheepish smile, one hand wrapped around your phone like a lifeline.

“It’s okay, really. You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said, already stepping forward and tapping his card before you could protest again. “Consider it as my apology for scaring you yesterday after class.”

You blinked. “That wasn’t me being scared.” You lied.

He shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Still. I figured coffee would be a safer follow-up.”

You glanced at him, searching for any signs of pressure, of expectation — but there was none. Just San. Open. Easy. Real.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, shifting your weight as the barista called out your name.

“For both?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mine and Hyojin’s. She’ll appreciate it.”

He smiled wider, but not in a flirty way — more like someone genuinely happy just to do something kind for someone they cared about.

As you reached for the drinks, your fingers brushed his — just for a second — and the thread pulsed gently between you.

You didn’t run this time.

And San didn’t comment on it. Didn’t ask for anything more.

He just said, “Hope your morning’s a little better now,” then stepped aside with a soft wave, giving you space to leave first.

And somehow, that simple act made your heart ache more than any grand gesture ever could.

You rushed back to the dorm in a hurried shuffle.

Hyojin was still wrapped in her blanket like a sleepy burrito when you returned, the TV already playing reruns of some old sitcom she liked to put on in the mornings — just enough background noise to keep things from feeling too quiet.

You handed her the coffee.

She sat up immediately, eyes narrowing as she took the cup from your hands. “Wait… you didn’t buy this.”

You blinked, trying to play innocent. “What makes you say that?”

She gave you a look over the rim of her cup. “Because you always get the oat milk latte when you’re paying. This is almond milk. That’s a San move.”

You sighed, sinking into the beanbag chair across from her.

“…He was at the café.”

“And he paid?” she asked, eyebrows rising. “And you didn’t sprint out the door like someone lit your thread on fire?”

You threw a pillow at her. “It wasn’t like that.”

She laughed, catching the pillow and hugging it to her chest. “Okay, so tell me — what was it like, then?”

You hesitated. Chewed the inside of your cheek. The words felt fragile, like they might shatter if you spoke them too fast.

“It was… calm,” you said finally. “He saw me. Didn’t make a big deal. Just… offered to pay. No weird comments. No guilt-tripping. No soulmate speech.”

Hyojin nodded slowly, sipping her coffee like she was giving you space to unravel it all.

“And you know what’s weird?” you added, softer now. “It felt normal. Like we were just two people… being nice to each other. Not fate. Not pressure. Just—”

“San being San,” she finished for you.

You nodded, thumb running along the rim of your coffee cup.

“And… I didn’t run. I wanted to. At first. But then he smiled, and it wasn’t… intense or hopeful or anything dramatic. Just real. And I guess… I wanted to stay in that moment a little longer.”

Hyojin smiled gently, eyes warm. “That’s not nothing, Y/N.”

You nodded, a small flicker of something brave flickering in your chest.

“It’s not everything yet,” you whispered. “But maybe it’s a start.”

---

The smell of sizzling eggs and butter filled the dorm, warm and familiar. Wooyoung stood at the stove in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, humming quietly as he flipped pancakes with practiced ease.

The door opened behind him with a soft click.

San stepped in, cheeks slightly pink from the cold outside — or maybe from something else.

"Smells good," he said, dropping his bag by the couch.

Wooyoung glanced over his shoulder. “Got up early. Figured we could use a proper breakfast for once instead of vending machine muffins.”

San chuckled, toeing off his shoes. “You’re turning domestic on me.”

“I’m adorable like that,” Wooyoung said with a wink, flipping another pancake onto a plate. “So? Where were you this early?”

San leaned against the counter, eyes twinkling.

“I don’t want to make it sound like a competition,” he started, a teasing lilt to his voice, “but I had a nice meeting with Y/N.”

Wooyoung froze mid-motion, spatula hovering in the air. His head turned slowly, eyes wide.

“You what?”

San grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Ran into her by the cafe. She was alone. Didn’t bolt. We talked for a few minutes.”

Wooyoung put the spatula down a little too carefully.

“Was she… okay? Was she scared? Did she look like she wanted to leave? Did you freak her out?”

San laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “No. She was actually calm. Quiet, but not closed off. And…” He looked down, ears reddening slightly. “She was… cute.”

That made Wooyoung pause. Really pause.

He leaned back against the counter, hands resting on the edge as he stared down at the stove, lips pressed together. “I wish I’d been there.”

San glanced over at him, his smile softening. “You kind of were.”

Wooyoung looked up.

“She mentioned the muffins,” San said gently.

Wooyoung exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little.

“I don’t want her to feel chased,” he said quietly. “I just… I miss her. And we barely even had her yet.”

San reached out, nudging Wooyoung’s arm.

“She’s not gone. She’s just… figuring it out. You were patient with me. You can be patient with her too.”

Wooyoung smiled at that — tired, but genuine.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “For her? I can wait.”

And as he plated the last pancake and set the table for two, something in his chest settled. Because maybe slow was okay. Maybe slow was exactly what you needed.

---

Class had just ended, and students spilled out of the lecture hall like a slow-moving tide of tired bodies and caffeine breath. You adjusted your backpack, hoping to make a quiet escape down the side hallway—until you felt that buzz again.

The thread. Alive. Warm. And pulling in two directions at once.

You looked up and froze.

Wooyoung was leaning against one wall, arms crossed, eyes lighting up the moment he saw you.

San was on the opposite wall, perfectly still, casually scrolling through his phone like he wasn’t clearly waiting for you, too.

You blinked.

They blinked.

Then both pushed off the wall at the same time.

“Y/N! I was just about to head to the café. Wanna walk with me?” Wooyoung beamed, already taking a half-step toward you.

San cleared his throat softly, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Actually, I was going to check out that new study space in the greenhouse. Thought you might like it.”

You stared at them.

They stared at each other.

Then back at you.

It was obvious what was happening. And it was also very obvious they hadn’t coordinated this.

Wooyoung smiled a little too wide. “You can’t even study with plants, San. What is she gonna do, photosynthesize her notes?”

San, calm as ever, didn’t even blink. “Some people find greenery relaxing. Unlike… a loud café full of undercooked croissants and overconfident baristas.”

“That barista was flirting with me,” Wooyoung shot back.

“Exactly,” San said.

You raised both hands, barely hiding your laugh. “Okay, okay, please stop fighting with each other in front of the academic building like I’m the final boss.”

They both quieted instantly. Then Wooyoung scratched the back of his neck and mumbled, “We just… wanted to hang out with you. Not in a weird way. Not in a ‘soulmate pressure’ way. Just… you.”

San nodded. “We can walk you somewhere. Or nowhere. Or just… exist near you for a bit.”

You looked at them — standing there, trying so hard to not try too hard.

And it hit you again: they weren’t asking you to choose. They were just trying to be close. To be present. To be themselves around you, and hope you’d let yourself do the same.

“…Come on,” you said softly, starting to walk. “You can both walk with me. But no more competing, got it?”

Wooyoung grinned. “Define ‘competing.’”

San sighed. “He’s already losing.”

And just like that, the tension melted into something warmer, easier.

You didn’t say much as you walked between them — not yet — but you didn’t run either.

And for them, that was already a win.

The three of you walked along the tree-lined path that cut through campus, leaves crunching softly underfoot. The air smelled like autumn and coffee, and for once, the thread around your wrist wasn’t overwhelming — just a soft, steady pulse. Like background music you didn’t mind anymore.

Wooyoung was rambling about some club’s haunted house fundraiser — complete with inflatable ghosts and “jump scares that would definitely make San scream.”

You smiled, listening but not saying much. It was easy to let his voice fill the space, to let it feel normal.

Then there was a pause. Just long enough to be noticeable.

You glanced to your left. San had fallen a few steps behind, hands in his pockets, gaze distant. Thoughtful.

Wooyoung slowed too, looking back. “Hey, you good?”

San looked up and gave a small nod. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

“Dangerous,” Wooyoung joked, nudging him lightly.

But San didn’t laugh. Not this time.

“I’ve been wondering,” he said softly, eyes still on the path ahead, “if maybe the reason soulmates exist… isn’t to force people together. But to remind them they can be seen.”

You stopped walking. Slowly.

So did Wooyoung.

San finally looked at you.

“Not just loved,” he added, “but… understood. The way you think no one ever will. That kind of scary, messy, real understanding.”

His voice didn’t waver, but something in it was raw. Honest.

“And I think…” He exhaled, gaze dropping for a moment. “That maybe you’re scared of the bond because it already feels like we see you. And that’s terrifying when you’ve spent so long trying to keep certain parts hidden.”

Your breath caught.

Wooyoung was unusually quiet beside you.

San didn’t step closer, didn’t reach out. He just stood there, his own thread glowing faintly against the falling dusk light, as if saying — I see you, and I’m still here.

“I’m sorry if that’s too much,” he added softly.

You shook your head, your voice low. “It’s not.”

It was everything.

And though you didn’t say another word the rest of the walk, something shifted. Not in the bond.

In you.

---

You sat on your bed, legs crossed under you, hoodie still on like a shield even though the room was warm.

Hyojin was at her desk, scribbling notes half-heartedly until she noticed you hadn’t said much since you got back. She turned in her chair, watching you over the top of her laptop with that familiar “I know something’s up” expression.

“You okay?” she asked gently.

You didn’t answer right away.

Instead, you pulled your legs in tighter and rested your chin on your knees. “San said something earlier.”

That got her full attention. “Oh?”

You nodded; eyes fixed on a spot on the floor.

“He said…” You took a breath. “That maybe soulmates aren’t about forcing people together. That maybe they’re just about showing someone they can actually be seen. Not just loved but understood.”

Hyojin didn’t speak, waiting patiently like she always did when you needed time to untangle your thoughts.

“And he said he thought maybe I was scared because I already felt like they saw me.” You paused. “And he’s right.”

The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of a dorm heater.

You finally looked up at her, your voice quieter now. “I didn’t think anyone ever really could see me. I got used to keeping the real stuff hidden. Even from you sometimes.”

Hyojin didn’t flinch. She just stood up, walked over, and sat on the edge of your bed, nudging your foot with hers.

“You don’t have to be scared of being seen, Y/N. Not with them. Not with me. But it’s okay if you still are.”

You blinked fast, feeling your throat tighten.

“I didn’t run today,” you whispered.

Hyojin smiled softly. “I know.”

“And it didn’t feel like the world was ending. Just… heavy.”

She leaned over and rested her head on your shoulder. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

You didn’t say anything else. You didn’t need to.

But for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to hide from the weight of being known.

---

It was later in the week when it happened.

You had a late class that let out just after sunset, and the campus was quiet in that sleepy kind of way — golden lights flickering on, students trailing back to their dorms with earbuds in and backpacks slung low.

You didn’t expect to see him there.

Wooyoung, sitting alone on one of the benches near the fountain outside the arts building, hoodie pulled over his head, earbuds dangling around his neck. A takeout container sat next to him, mostly untouched.

He looked up when he heard your footsteps — and when he saw it was you, he smiled.

Not the usual bright Wooyoung grin. This one was softer. Tired.

You almost walked past him. Almost.

But something in you stopped. Turned. Sat beside him, even though your heart thudded a little too loudly in your chest.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Neither did you.

Just the sound of the fountain and the wind brushing through the trees.

Then, finally—

“I always thought being soulmates with someone would fix something in me,” Wooyoung said quietly, gaze fixed on the water.

You looked at him, surprised by the weight in his voice.

“But it didn’t. You showed up, and everything still felt… confusing. Unfinished. Scary, even.”

He rubbed his thumb over the glowing thread on his wrist, the light faint but constant. “And I realized, maybe soulmates don’t fix you. Maybe they just… stand next to the broken parts and say, ‘I still want you anyway.’”

You felt your breath catch.

“I don’t want you to love me because you’re meant to,” he went on, voice barely above a whisper. “I want you to love me because one day you choose to. Because you look at me and San, and you don’t see a bond — you see us. Messy, flawed, ridiculous… but real.”

He finally turned to you, eyes soft and so achingly open, like he wasn’t afraid of you seeing the cracks.

“And if that day never comes… I’ll still be glad I met you. I’ll still think you’re brave for even sitting here right now.”

His voice caught at the end, just slightly — enough to make your chest tighten.

For a heartbeat, it looked like he might cry.

But then he smiled. Just barely. A little sad, a little accepting. And when he spoke again, it was quieter, almost like it wasn’t meant for you to hear — like it was something he’d already accepted in the quietest parts of his heart.

“Even if you end up finding someone else… I will still think about this.”

You didn’t know what to say. Words felt too small for the weight of what he’d just given you — something so gentle, and yet so devastating.

You didn’t speak.

You reached out instead — hand brushing his, fingers trembling — and laced your pinky with his.

He looked down at the touch. Then back at you.

And for once, he didn’t try to fill the silence with words or jokes.

He just held on.

---

The sky was bruised with early morning light when you found yourself in the greenhouse.

You weren’t sure what pulled you there — maybe San’s voice echoing in your head from days ago, maybe the part of you that couldn’t stop thinking about the way Wooyoung had looked at you like he was letting you go just to make you feel free.

Maybe you were tired of being afraid.

The glass walls let in soft gold light, and the air smelled of damp earth and something alive. The space was quiet, warm. Peaceful.

San sat near the back, legs crossed beneath him on a bench, a book in his lap. He didn’t look surprised when you entered — like maybe he already knew you were coming.

You stood awkwardly for a moment before stepping closer.

“I didn’t come to study,” you said.

He smiled faintly, setting the book aside. “I didn’t either.”

You sat across from him, the little table between you filled with scattered pages, succulents, and a small ceramic frog someone had left there weeks ago.

For a long time, you just looked at each other.

Then you spoke.

“Wooyoung told me he’d be okay if I didn’t choose you both,” you whispered. “Said he’d still be grateful. Even if I found someone else.”

San’s brows furrowed slightly, his jaw tightening, but not with anger — with emotion.

“I think that broke my heart a little,” you admitted, voice shaking. “Because… he meant it.”

San nodded, slow and steady. “He did.”

You took a breath. It felt heavier than it should have. “I didn’t realize… how much love can look like letting go.”

San leaned forward, arms resting on the table, voice low. “That’s what makes it real. Not just the bond. Not fate. Choice.”

You looked at him, and this time, you didn’t shy away from his gaze.

“I’m scared that if I let you both in… you’ll see all the parts I’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. And you’ll love me anyway. And then I won’t know who I am without that love.”

San’s eyes softened, his expression still and grounding — like he was holding space for you without trying to fix you.

“Y/N,” he said gently, “loving someone doesn’t erase who they are. It just gives them more room to be.”

You stared at him for a moment. “How are you so calm about this?”

His lips curved into the faintest smile. “I’m not. I’ve just spent more time thinking about you than my fear.”

You looked away, overwhelmed.

But then you felt it — his hand, reaching out across the table, palm open. Not grabbing. Just waiting.

You didn’t think.

You placed your hand in his.

Warm.

Steady.

No pressure.

Just San.

And for the first time, you thought: maybe I can do this.

---

It started with a text.

San: We’re heading to get icecream in a bit. You’re welcome to join. No pressure. We’ll be at the parlor by the cafe.

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a plea.

It was just… an open door.

You stared at the message longer than you needed to. Then you packed your bag and left before you could talk yourself out of it.

The icecream parlor was quiet — all hushed voices, the occasional sounds of the freezer running, and late-afternoon sun filtering in through tall windows. It cast a warm glow across the marbled tables and wooden floor, soft enough to make it feel like a different world.

Wooyoung looked up first when you approached.

He didn’t react dramatically — no wide smile, no flirty comment, just a soft blink of surprise followed by a warm, quiet grin. The kind that said you’re here without a single word.

San gave a small nod, already clearing a spot at the table between them.

You sat.

No one spoke for a while. Not in the way that felt awkward — in the way that felt comfortable.

San was already with you eating icecream as Wooyoung was ordering his.

You looked at them once Wooyoung sat down, San offered to pay for yours as a "Thank you for letting us take you here" gift.

At one point, Wooyoung offered you a bite of his icecream. San rolled his eyes thinking he was trying too hard. You glanced at both of them, your chest tightening a little — not with fear this time, but with something warmer.

There were no dramatic declarations. No glowing threads buzzing like sirens. Just the gentle presence of two people who wanted you close, even if it meant sitting in silence.

And somewhere in the middle of that quiet, you realized:

This — this space, this peace — was its own kind of love.

You didn’t say anything.

But you stayed.

And that, for now, was more than enough.

---

The walk back to your dorm was… peaceful.

Wooyoung talked about some ridiculous online quiz he took that said he was a golden retriever (he wasn’t even mad — just proud), while San chimed in occasionally with dry remarks that made both of you laugh harder than necessary. The thread around your wrist pulsed gently with their presence, but not in a demanding way — just there, like a heartbeat.

No fighting. No forcing. No fear.

Just three people walking home under the orange glow of streetlights.

When you reached your building, they didn’t linger.

“Thanks for coming today,” San said softly, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung added, leaning back on his heels. “You have no idea how much that meant to us.”

You smiled. “It meant something to me too.”

You didn’t have to say more than that.

They nodded, like they understood.

Inside the dorm, you barely had the door shut behind you before Hyojin popped up from the couch, eyes wide with anticipation.

“You’re glowing,” she said instantly, pointing at you. “Suspiciously.”

You rolled your eyes and kicked off your shoes. “I was literally just studying.” You lied. You were technically already on a first date with them eating Icecream.

“With two soulmates who are in love with you,” she sang, wiggling her eyebrows. “Don’t play coy with me. I’m emotionally invested in this fanfiction of a life you’re living.”

You laughed, a little breathless, a little tired.

“I’m serious though,” she said, walking into the kitchenette. “You need a change of scenery. Some dopamine. Some dancing. Good timing — Yunho and Yeosang are throwing a party tomorrow night. You’re coming.”

You blinked. “Yunho and Yeosang?”

“Yep.” She tossed you a granola bar. “One’s an extrovert golden retriever in human form — basically Wooyoung but louder — and the other’s a soft-spoken intellectual who wears sweaters even when it’s 90 degrees. He literally pulls Yunho away from dance circles by his collar.”

“…So, you and me, but more chaotic.”

“Exactly,” she grinned. “Yunho’s been asking if I’d bring you around anyway. Says Yeosang needs new people to judge quietly.”

You gave her a look.

“Come on,” she said, flopping onto the couch again. “You’ve spent weeks hiding. You deserve one night of music, weird drinks, and watching some guys do the worm badly on a hardwood floor.”

You hesitated.

And then… nodded.

“Okay,” you said. “Let’s go to a party.”

Hyojin beamed. “Hell yeah.”

---

The music was way louder than you expected.

As soon as you stepped into the off-campus house, the bass hit you in the chest like a second heartbeat. Lights glowed warm and golden, laughter spilled from the kitchen, and someone had already spilled something sticky on the floor by the entryway — probably juice, possibly regret.

Hyojin tugged your wrist. “Okay, rules,” she shouted over the music. “Don’t drink the neon stuff. Don’t make eye contact with anyone doing interpretive dance. And if Yunho challenges you to karaoke — run.”

You laughed, nerves dissolving into adrenaline.

That’s when he appeared.

Yunho, tall and glowing like someone physically made of sunshine and Red Bull, bounded toward you both with open arms. “HYOJIN! You brought your mysterious roommate!”

“She’s not mysterious,” Hyojin shouted back. “She’s emotionally complicated!”

You gave a weak wave. “Hi.”

Yunho spun dramatically and pointed to the guy standing stiffly behind him, sipping from a plain paper cup like he didn’t want to be perceived.

“And this is Yeosang. He hates this.”

Yeosang gave you a polite nod and a “hello” so soft it nearly got swallowed by the music.

“I don’t hate this,” he muttered. “I’m simply observing this social chaos with anthropological detachment.”

“I once caught him reading Plato in a hot tub,” Yunho said proudly, already turning away like he hadn’t just exposed Yeosang’s deepest philosophical sins.

Yeosang stared ahead, expression perfectly blank, save for the smallest twitch of his eye. “…He tells everyone that.”

You tried — tried — not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway.

Before either of you could recover, Yunho took off like a rocket across the crowded living room, yelling, “Mingi!” like it was both a greeting and a battle cry.

Your eyes followed him just in time to see him tackle a very surprised — but delighted — Mingi onto the floor. The two of them dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, limbs flailing as people parted around them like it was normal for grown men to recreate WWE in the middle of a house party.

You glanced sideways at Yeosang, who hadn’t moved an inch, his cup still delicately held in one hand as he watched his best friend roll around on the hardwood floor.

“…Is he?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

Yeosang sipped his water like it was a fine wine, voice deadpan. “Drunk? Yes.”

You snorted, covering your mouth as a laugh slipped out.

Yeosang’s lips quirked, just slightly. “He gets like this when he’s happy. Or when he’s had anything mixed with blue raspberry.”

“Both, then?”

“Undoubtedly.”

The two of you stood there, quietly united in mutual secondhand embarrassment, watching Mingi attempt to pin Yunho while yelling, “SURRENDER TO YOUR DESTINY.”

You leaned in slightly. “Should we… help?”

Yeosang took another sip. “No. They’d just drag us into it.”

You nodded. “Smart man.”

For a moment, the party seemed to blur in the background — too loud, too fast — but right there, beside Yeosang and his cup of water, everything felt still. Safe. Strangely comforting.

And then a voice called from behind you—

“Y/N! San’s about to lose at flip cup, come watch!”

Wooyoung, of course.

Yeosang sighed lightly. “Good luck.”

You smirked. “Want to come?”

He shook his head. “I’m the designated plant guardian tonight. Someone has to keep the fern alive.”

You left him to it, weaving through the chaos toward the rest of the night — but not without glancing back and seeing Yeosang gently move a party cup away from the fern like it was sacred.

You were definitely coming back to talk to him later.

You didn’t mean to start a conversation with the guy in the flannel.

He’d bumped into you near the kitchen, offered a quick apology, and then started chatting about the playlist. He was funny. Not in a flirty, overbearing way — just easy to talk to. You weren’t thinking about anything beyond the song and the shared complaint about how warm the room had gotten.

But across the room, Wooyoung saw it happen.

He’d just returned from cheering San on in an incredibly one-sided flip cup match (San was losing. With dignity.), when he spotted you near the counter, laughing softly as Flannel Guy leaned in a little closer — just a little — to say something in your ear.

Wooyoung paused mid-step, the grin on his face faltering for half a second.

He wasn’t angry.

But something in his chest tightened.

He knew — he knew — you weren’t his. Not in the possessive way. Not in the way soulmates get written in stories, where the bond means instant belonging. That wasn’t how he saw you.

But he also knew how hard you’d worked to be open. How slowly you’d let your walls down. How every glance, every conversation, every inch of closeness with him and San had been earned with time, not thread.

And now Flannel Guy was standing too close, and you were smiling in that soft, slightly shy way Wooyoung had come to treasure like a secret.

San appeared beside him, holding two drinks. He followed Wooyoung’s line of sight, instantly zeroing in.

“That him?” he asked, tone even but eyes sharp.

“Who?”

“The guy you’re absolutely not staring at like he’s a threat to your entire bloodline.”

Wooyoung blinked, then snorted. “Okay, dramatic.”

San handed him one of the drinks. “You are going over there?”

“Nope,” he said quickly, then added, “Yes.”

He didn’t storm across the room. Didn’t interrupt.

Just appeared next to you, sliding into the space beside you with practiced ease, that trademark Wooyoung smile back in place — charming, casual, just a little too bright.

“Hey,” he said, nudging your arm. “You vanished. Thought maybe you were pulled into a karaoke cult.”

You looked up, surprised. “I was just—”

“Talking about the playlist,” Flannel Guy offered, clearly catching the shift but trying to play it cool. “You’re her friend?”

Wooyoung glanced at you, then back at him. “You could say that.”

The guy nodded, but the energy had shifted. You could feel it — subtle, but unmistakable.

Flannel Guy made a polite exit a moment later, something about checking on his friends, and you turned to Wooyoung with a lifted brow.

“You, okay?”

Wooyoung shrugged, sipping his drink. “Fine. Just… don’t want you getting stuck talking to a guy who thinks ‘early Drake’ is a personality.”

You raised a brow, amused. “That’s a very specific accusation.”

“I know his kind,” he said seriously. “They carry acoustic guitars to bonfires.”

You laughed — but you didn’t move away.

And Wooyoung smiled at that.

Just a little.

The party had started to wind down.

The music was still thumping, but slower now, more background than center stage. People drifted toward couches, clustered in corners, or disappeared into late-night walks and whispered laughter.

You found Wooyoung and San on the back patio — Wooyoung perched on the arm of a bench, San leaning against the railing, both of them quiet in that familiar way they got when the world slowed down around them.

They looked up when you stepped outside, your expression unreadable.

“Hey,” you said softly. “Can I talk to you both for a second?”

Wooyoung blinked, then stood up straighter. San gave a small nod, eyes steady on you.

You walked past them, to the far end of the patio where the light didn’t quite reach — private, but not dramatic. They followed, like they would’ve gone anywhere you asked.

You turned to face them, heart hammering in your chest.

“I need to say something,” you began, voice quiet but sure. “And I don’t know if it’s going to come out perfectly, but…”

You exhaled, looking between the two of them.

“I see you. Both of you.”

They didn’t speak — didn’t move — but something in their eyes softened.

“I see the way you’ve been holding back. The way you’ve waited for me to be ready. How you’ve never pushed. How you’ve been patient and kind and just… here.”

You looked down for a second, then back up, meeting San’s gaze first.

“You listen more than you speak. You give space even when it probably hurts to. You look at me like I’m already enough, even when I’m not sure I believe it myself.”

Then to Wooyoung.

“You make everything feel lighter. You make me laugh even when I don’t want to. And even when you’re hurting, you still show up like you’re the one trying to make me feel safe.”

Wooyoung’s lips parted, a quiet breath catching in his throat.

“I know this bond is supposed to mean something,” you continued. “But you two are the ones who made it feel real. Not fate. You.”

They were both completely still now — not out of shock, but because they didn’t want to break the moment.

“I’m scared. I’m still scared,” you admitted, voice cracking just a little. “But not of you. Not anymore. I think I’ve just been scared of being loved the right way. Of being known.”

You let the silence sit for a second.

And then: “But I think I’m ready to stop running.”

Wooyoung was the first to speak — barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to jump in all at once. We’re not going anywhere.”

San stepped closer, not touching you, but close enough that you could feel the steady calm of his presence. “We’ll meet you wherever you are.”

You nodded slowly; eyes misty.

And then — for the first time — you reached out, you bridged the gap.

You took both of their hands.

One in each of yours.

And when the threads pulsed between all three of you, soft and steady, no one flinched.

---

The dorm was quiet when you got back.

Hyojin had left a note on the whiteboard stuck to the door: “Crashing at a friend. Try not to emotionally combust without me. 💖”

You smiled faintly as you slipped inside, flipping on the little lamp near your desk. The overhead lights stayed off — too harsh for how full your chest already felt.

Wooyoung and San followed behind you, quieter than usual, the kind of quiet that wasn’t awkward or heavy, just… comfortable. Familiar. Like the air after a storm.

You dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes, curling up on the edge of your bed as they settled in, like they’d done it a hundred times before.

Wooyoung sat cross-legged on the floor beside your bed, chin resting on the edge of the mattress. San leaned back in your desk chair, spinning slowly, rhythmically, his gaze soft as it drifted between the two of you.

No one spoke for a while.

And it was nice.

Eventually, Wooyoung broke the silence. “I missed this,” he said, voice low, like anything louder might shatter it.

You looked at him. “We didn’t really have this yet.”

He smiled. “Still missed it.”

San added quietly, “This is the first time we’ve all felt… aligned. Together. Without fear between us.”

You nodded slowly, pulling your knees to your chest.

There was no grand gesture. No dramatic music. Just the three of you sitting in the soft haze of a new beginning.

Eventually, Wooyoung nudged your leg with his elbow. “Can I—?”

You didn’t let him finish.

You reached down and laced your fingers through his.

At the same time, San stood and walked over, crouching beside the bed on your other side. You held your free hand up, and he took it without hesitation.

And just like that — the three of you, linked quietly, hearts in sync — you sat there in the dim dorm light.

No pressure.

No fear.

Just a beginning that felt soft. Safe. Real.

And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you had to run from it.

San turned toward you gently, his hand still holding yours — grounding, warm, sure. You met his gaze, and something inside you melted at the way he was looking at you. Like you were something sacred. Like he couldn’t believe he got to be this close.

You took a breath, your heart fluttering like soft wings in your chest.

Then, without thinking — no overanalyzing, no running — you leaned in.

And San met you halfway.

The kiss was soft. Careful. Like he was afraid to break you. But underneath that caution was something deeper — a longing that made your fingers tighten just slightly around his.

You felt him breathe against you.

He kissed you again — deeper this time, like he didn’t want to stop, like he couldn’t believe this was real.

And you let him.

You wanted to.

San’s heart was beating so fast you could almost feel the rhythm through his skin, like it was trying to leap out of his chest and into yours.

Then—

A very dramatic throat-clear.

“Okay, my turn,” Wooyoung announced, tapping San’s shoulder like he was cutting in at a dance.

San broke the kiss slowly, his face flushed and dazed, as he turned to look at his best friend.

“You’re seriously—”

Wooyoung was already leaning in, eyes twinkling but filled with something sincere behind the playfulness. “It’s only fair.”

You turned your head toward him, and before you could say anything, he kissed you too — but not the same.

Where San had been slow and steady, Wooyoung was soft and sweet and just a little smug about finally getting his moment. His hand gently cupped your cheek, his lips brushing yours like he’d dreamed of it but never dared to rush it.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, “Worth the wait.”

You blinked, breath catching in your throat.

And then San — who still hadn’t let go of your hand — leaned his head against your shoulder with a deep sigh.

“I hate how smooth he is sometimes,” he muttered.

You laughed, tears stinging the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming warmth, the safety, the sheer realness of it all.

You didn’t know what tomorrow would bring.

But right here, in the quiet warmth of your dorm, with both of them beside you — one grounded, one glowing, both yours — you knew one thing for sure:

You weren’t afraid anymore.

You leaned down in bed with them as they both held you in their arms from opposite sides.

---

The sunlight slipped through the blinds, golden and slow, warming the room just enough to make getting up feel illegal.

You were barely conscious, your face smushed into a pillow, your body tangled between limbs that weren’t entirely your own. One of San’s arms was looped around your waist, his breath soft against the back of your neck. Wooyoung’s legs were thrown over both of yours like he’d lost a battle with gravity sometime during the night and just made peace with it.

There was a quiet creak — the door opening.

“Morninggg—” Hyojin’s voice cut off mid-yawn, followed by a beat of silence.

You blinked slowly, groggily lifting your head and squinting at her like a confused meerkat peeking out of a blanket nest.

Hyojin’s lips curled into a dangerous smirk.

“Well, well, well,” she said, arms crossed. “Looks like Y/N got herself a whole cat harem.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a muffled, exhausted noise.

San groaned softly behind you, pulling the blanket higher over all of you without even opening his eyes. Wooyoung cracked one eye open, saw Hyojin, and mumbled, “This isn’t a harem. It’s a heat-efficient cuddle pod.”

Hyojin snorted. “Sure, okay. Let me know when you start charging admission.”

And with that, she shut the door with a cackle, disappearing down the hall like the menace she was.

You let your head drop back onto the pillow, caught somewhere between embarrassment and the warm, sleepy contentment of knowing you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

San hummed softly. “Did she say cat harem?”

“Don’t ask,” you mumbled.

Wooyoung shifted, nestling his face into the crook of your shoulder. “We should’ve locked the door.”

“Next time,” you sighed.

Neither of them moved.

Neither did you.

Because honestly? It was kind of the perfect morning.

The day started simple enough.

You'd suggested brunch. Wooyoung had offered to cook. San immediately declared he would supervise, which actually meant doing absolutely nothing useful. Hyojin, coffee mug in hand, sat on the counter like a queen surveying her kingdom of idiots.

“What are you making again?” you asked, tying your hair up and peeking into the fridge.

“Kimchi fried rice, soft scrambled eggs, and maybe some pancakes,” San replied, already slicing scallions with precision.

“Wow,” Hyojin said, sipping her coffee. “You’re really out here being a better partner than half the men on this campus.”

Wooyoung spun dramatically toward her. “Excuse you, I am also contributing.”

“To the chaos,” San muttered without looking up.

Wooyoung gasped. “I am the heart of this kitchen! The ambience! The charisma! The—”

“You’re the reason we’re out of clean spatulas,” you pointed out, holding up the one he used last night to “mix” instant ramen seasoning directly in the bag.

He winked. “Innovative, not destructive.”

You rolled your eyes.

Meanwhile, Wooyoung was trying to focus, but San kept stealing bites of the chopped kimchi and turning up the volume on his “Cooking with Soulmates” playlist, which currently featured 2000s boy bands and at least one anime opening.

“San,” Wooyoung said patiently, “please stop dancing while I’m using a knife.”

“You can’t stop the rhythm, bro.”

You laughed as Wooyoung gave you a look like, see what I deal with?

Then—sizzle, pop, clatter.

San had turned too fast and knocked a bowl of eggs onto the floor.

“Oops.”

Wooyoung dropped his head onto the counter.

Hyojin didn’t even blink. “There it is. I was wondering when chaos would strike.”

Wooyoung crouched down to clean it up with a dramatic sigh. “I’m too pretty for this world.”

“Too clumsy, you mean,” you said, grabbing paper towels and helping.

Despite the mess, laughter kept bubbling up. The apartment was full of it — warm, genuine, the kind that made you forget about everything else. By the time the food was finally plated (only slightly delayed by Wooyoung burning one pancake into a hockey puck), the four of you were crowded around the table, mismatched mugs and all.

San looked over at you, smile soft.

“You good?”

You nodded, already reaching for your chopsticks. “Yeah. I’m really good.”

And as you listened to Hyojin roast Wooyoung for the third time that morning while he fake-cried into his orange juice, and San calmly ignored them both while handing you the best parts of the kimchi rice—

You realized this was your new normal.

And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

---

It happened on a Tuesday.

The kind of Tuesday where the sky was impossibly blue, students were sprawled out on the quad like sleepy cats in the sun, and the stress of midterms hung just slightly less heavy in the air because someone was handing out free donuts by the library steps.

You’d just finished your psych lecture, notebook tucked under your arm, earbuds half-in. San had texted to say he and Wooyoung were waiting for you by the big tree near the fountain — the one you always ended up circling like a moth on days you didn’t want to head straight to class.

You spotted them instantly.

San, legs crossed in the grass, flipping through his annotated copy of something you definitely weren’t going to read unless threatened. Wooyoung, lying flat on his back beside him, sunglasses on, hoodie hiked up just enough to show the thread on his wrist glowing warm in the daylight.

When you approached, Wooyoung sat up. “There’s the smartest person in our polycule.”

“We’re not—” you started, but San just smirked and patted the spot beside him.

You sat down between them, letting your bag slide off your shoulder.

San casually reached over to tuck your hair behind your ear, fingers brushing your jaw for a beat longer than necessary.

You froze for half a second. Not because you didn’t like it — but because people were around. Out here, in the open.

San’s hand dropped, and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

But Wooyoung saw it. Saw you.

And without saying a word, he reached out and slid his fingers through yours.

No big gesture. No loud announcement. Just a simple act of affection.

And you didn’t pull away.

You let him hold your hand, and you leaned a little into San’s side.

Someone nearby whistled. Another person did that thing where they nudge their friend like, “Look, it’s the soulmate trio.”

You didn’t run.

You didn’t hide.

You just smiled, cheeks a little warm, heart a little full.

“PDA level one unlocked,” Wooyoung whispered proudly.

“Don’t make it weird,” San murmured, but he was smiling too.

---

It was after your late lab, and the sky had dipped into that perfect indigo blue — the kind where the stars were just barely starting to show, and the streetlights cast soft halos on the brick paths winding through campus.

San and Wooyoung had waited for you outside, like always.

Wooyoung had your favorite drink in hand — slightly melted but still sweet — and San had that patient look on his face, the one that said take your time, we’re not in a rush.

You walked between them, your bag slung over one shoulder, all three of you heading toward the front gates where Wooyoung had parked his bike like a chaotic gremlin on two wheels.

It was quiet. Not awkward — just that kind of peace you’d learned to love. The kind that only came from being around people who didn’t need to fill the silence to feel close.

You passed the student center — a few people milling around, sitting on steps, laughing in small groups. Someone waved at Wooyoung. San nodded to a guy from one of his lit classes.

And then you stopped.

Not because of anything specific — no grand thought, no particular reason.

Just… because you felt it.

You turned toward Wooyoung first, reaching out to brush a bit of his hair away from his eyes where the wind had pushed it.

He blinked, lips parting slightly, like he was about to make a joke — something light, something very him.

But you didn’t let him.

You leaned in and kissed him.

Right there, in the middle of campus, under the glow of a streetlight.

Soft. Sweet. Real.

His breath caught — just for a second — and then he kissed you back, one hand resting lightly on your waist like he was afraid to hold too tight.

When you pulled away, his eyes were wide, stunned, lips still parted.

“Whoa,” he breathed. “I wasn’t— That was—”

“I know,” you said softly.

San, behind you, let out the softest exhale of a laugh — warm and fond.

“You’re not even gonna warn us anymore, huh?” he teased gently.

You turned, reaching for his hand. “It just felt right.”

And it did.

Not because of the thread.

Not because of the bond.

But because it was you. And them. And this life you were slowly building, piece by piece, kiss by kiss.

---

It was later that night, after the campus had quieted and the stars had taken over the sky completely.

San walked you back to your dorm — not because he had to, but because he always did when it was just the two of you. The quiet walks had become a thing between you. No pressure. No rush. Just matching footsteps and the occasional shoulder bump under the moonlight.

Neither of you had brought up the kiss yet.

Not the one with Wooyoung.

Not the way it had happened — publicly, openly — like your heart had just decided it was done hiding.

You unlocked the door to your dorm, letting it click behind you softly, and dropped your bag onto the floor with a tired sigh.

San leaned against the wall beside your desk, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, his head slightly downturned like he was thinking through every word before he even said it.

You turned to him, waiting.

It was quiet for a moment.

Then—

“That kiss today,” he said softly, not looking at you just yet, “it wasn’t mine. And I still felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

You blinked, heart stuttering in your chest.

“Not because I was jealous,” he added quickly, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours. “But because… it was real. And I’ve never seen you look so sure before. So free.”

You stepped closer, slowly.

“I was,” you said. “I am.”

San smiled — that small, quiet smile that didn’t need to be wide to mean everything.

“I’ve been waiting for you to let yourself want us,” he whispered. “Not just accept the bond. Not just stay. But want.”

You were close enough now to touch. You reached up, brushing a stray piece of hair from his forehead, fingers lingering at his temple.

“I do,” you said, just as quietly. “Want you.”

That was all it took.

San leaned in, slow, searching your face one last time — like he needed to see you give him permission even after hearing the words.

You closed the space for him.

The kiss was soft. Warmer than the first one. Deeper. Calmer. It didn’t burn, it settled — like sinking into something safe.

When you finally pulled back, you stayed close, foreheads pressed together, breathing each other in.

“Feels different when it’s just us,” you whispered.

San nodded, lips brushing yours again as he spoke.

“It always does.”

It was raining when you arrived at their dorm.

Not the dramatic, thunderous kind — just a gentle, steady rain that made the windows blur and the world feel slower, quieter. San had texted you earlier: “Come over. Stay the night. Bring your comfiest hoodie.”

So you did.

Wooyoung opened the door before you could even knock, like he’d been waiting with his ear pressed to it. He was wearing pajama pants and one of San’s old t-shirts, and his smile lit up the dim hallway like sunshine in a storm.

“You’re here,” he said, and it wasn’t a question — it was a confirmation of something he’d been hoping for all day.

You stepped inside, brushing raindrops from your hoodie as San appeared behind him, hair damp from a shower, holding a mug of tea that he wordlessly handed to you.

“Chamomile,” he said. “For settling in.”

That was exactly what this night was �� settling in.

No pressure. No grand gestures. Just warmth.

The dorm lights were low. A candle flickered on the windowsill — something cinnamon-sweet and comforting. The sound of rain tapping against the glass filled the quiet spaces between your words.

Wooyoung made popcorn — burned the first batch and blamed the microwave. San changed the playlist three times before settling on soft acoustic songs. You curled up on the bed between them, a blanket draped over all three of you, legs tangled and laughter easy.

At one point, Wooyoung tried to explain the plot of a movie he only half-watched last week, and San kept correcting him with actual facts until Wooyoung gave up and fake-sulked into your shoulder.

You kissed the top of his head. Just because you could now.

San was leaning against the wall behind you, fingers lazily tracing shapes on your thigh beneath the blanket. He wasn’t saying much — but his presence wrapped around you like gravity. Quiet, grounding, always there.

Eventually, the conversation faded, the rain still whispering outside, the playlist down to nothing but soft instrumentals.

You shifted, nestling closer to both of them, and whispered, “This feels like home.”

Wooyoung hummed sleepily, half-asleep already. “That’s because it is.”

San kissed your temple. “You’re not visiting anymore,” he murmured. “You’re just… with us.”

And that night — wrapped in their warmth, the bond humming quiet and content — you believed it.

---

The rain had stopped sometime in the early morning.

The world outside the dorm window was still, soaked and silver-blue in the soft pre-dawn light. Inside, it was warmer — cocooned in quiet breaths and shared blankets, the air heavy with sleep and something else.

You lay between them in the tangle of sheets, Wooyoung’s arm draped lazily over your waist, San’s fingers still linked with yours from the night before. None of you had spoken in hours. Not even in whispers. Just soft sighs, slow heartbeats, a peace so deep it didn’t need words.

And then it happened.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

It was a feeling — deep in your chest, blooming behind your ribs like light warming the darkest part of you.

The thread.

That red, pulsing thread you’d feared for so long.

It tightened.

Not in a choking, panicked way. Not like it was pulling you in.

More like it was settling. Finding its shape around the three of you. Completing a loop that had taken its time, been patient, never forced you — just waited.

A quiet click, almost metaphysical — like the final piece falling into place.

You felt it hum beneath your skin, and this time, instead of fear, you felt complete.

You shifted slightly, just enough to see both of them. San stirred first, eyes still half-lidded but aware. Wooyoung blinked slowly, sleep still soft around the edges of him.

“…Did you feel that?” you whispered.

San nodded, voice gravelly. “Yeah.”

Wooyoung’s smile was slow, drowsy, genuine. “Finally.”

None of you moved to sit up. None of you needed to.

You just breathed together, wrapped in each other — the bond no longer glowing, but settled.

No more tugging. No more questions.

Just quiet connection.

A single thread. Three hearts.

And everything that came next.

•

A/N: Again! I hope you enjoyed :3 It is sort of my first soulmate au story and I'm fairly new so let me know how I did ^^ (I tried ;'3)

[s4nniebe4r]

dibs

pairing: rival! yunho x fem! reader

synopsis: somebody keeps stealing your favorite chair

wc: 4.2k 

tags: fluff, slice of life, light use of explicit language

etc: this is a major rework of a fic i wrote previously elsewhere, it’s been on my mind for a while… thinking about a potential part two, but i’ve got to work out the kinks and whatnot, as always not thoroughly proofread!

The library is quieter than usual when you step inside, it’s the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound—your footsteps against the aged tiled floor, soft rustling of pages as students flipped through their overpriced textbooks, and the humming of a printer in the distance. You adjust the strap of your bag and exhale, already sorting through the mental checklist of everything you need to get done for this session. 

It’s a lot. Too much, honestly. You’ve got a paper due, an exam to study for, and some general note-taking, a headache was already starting to form, and a general sense of dread was setting in. 

But it’s fine. It’s fine. Because at least you have your seat. 

The one by the window. The one where the light filters in just right, making the otherwise dull atmosphere of the library feel a little less draining. That seat made you understand just how a cat feels curling up under the sun taking a nap; so cozy, so at ease. And it was comfortable—more than the others, anyways—cushioned, in a way that doesn’t make your back regret ever meeting it. From where that chair was, you were perched over and away from the vast majority of the library, but you were easily able to people-watch as they came. It’s a small comfort in a long day, and you’re holding onto it. You always do. 

Or at least, you did. 

Because when you rounded the last bookshelf, ready to collapse into your little area of familiarity, you see him. 

Sitting in your chair. 

Some guy, completely absorbed in whatever’s on his laptop screen. He had himself in your chair. He wore a loose-fitted crew neck, and jeans, his hair tucked lazily under his beanie… his outfit portrayed how he looked in your chair; far too comfortable. His fingers were lazily tapping against his coffee cup, so carefree, like he has nowhere else in the world he’d rather be. Like he belongs there. Which, of course, was far from true. 

So you stop, standing there longer than necessary, waiting for some kind of divine intervention, or universal fixture to this. Maybe, just maybe he’ll look up, and sense your suffering in silence, and move along with his life. Maybe he’ll realize that this chair was not his to sit in. 

But, neither happens. Nothing happens. 

Instead, he stretches a little, shifting like he’s settling further into his seat, and you feel an actual physical reaction—something between the lines of heartbreak and bitterness, maybe a little irritation mixed along. Irritation with yourself, maybe? You don’t own the chair, obviously… you know this. But, it’s yours. 

It’s yours. 

For a second, you debate saying something. You could ask if he plans on staying for long. Maybe drop some sort of passive aggressive hint? There was always the seat across, but that felt too cruel, like salt rubbed into your already stinging wound. 

You were lost in thought, but then his eyes flick up—just for a second, barely long enough to register your presence—before he goes right back to whatever it was that he was doing. There’s a light sprinkle of pink that appears on his face after a second. And his lips purse into a straight line, before the tug upward ever so slightly. 

And that’s when you realize. 

He knows. 

There’s something about the way his lips are twitching, like he’s trying not to smile, and it’s enough to tell you that he’s fully aware of what he’s done. Like he’s waiting to see what you plan on doing about it. 

A small heat courses through you, enough to make you pull out the chair from beside you without much of a second thought. So, without any other choice, you sit. You sit in the only other available spot at the table—that godforsaken, awful wooden chair across from him. The one that’s stiff and unforgiving, it’s everything wrong with seating. And you’re sure he knows that too, because now he really does smile, just barely, as he takes a slow sip of his iced coffee. 

You don’t look at him, as much as you want to, you don’t. You just open your laptop with a little more force than necessary, and start typing. You have no idea what you’re writing, but your fingertips tapped away at your keyboard. 

And so, you sat. Staring at the screen as you mindlessly wrote as the minutes passed. You figure at some point you’d write something useful. And then—because the universe just wasn’t done with you—somebody spoke up. 

“That chair’s not so bad, is it?”

With your fingers halting their motions, just hovering over the keyboard now. You slowly lift your gaze, and there he is, watching you over the rim of his coffee cup as he takes another sip, his eyes full of amusement. 

You take a deep breath to ground yourself. “It’s awful actually,” you deadpan. “And you’re in my seat.”

He hums lightly, shaking his head as he sets his cup down. “I wasn’t aware we called dibs here. And I didn’t see your name on it.”

Oh, you hate him. Instantly. Viscerally. 

“Didn’t realize I needed to,” you reply. “Considering I sit here every time I come here.” 

“Ah.” He nods, like the information is new and groundbreaking. “Well, I'm sitting here now.” He said it so casually. 

Your jaw tightens, almost locking into place. “Yeah. I gathered that.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, head tilted slightly, a slow, insufferable smile forming. It was almost to the point where you could describe it as shit-eating. And just as he grins, he reaches for his laptop, shifting it slightly—just enough to make it painfully clear that he has no intention of moving. 

Fine. That’s just fine. You weren’t about to let some bratty stranger ruin your day. 

You refocus onto your screen, posture stiff no thanks to the chair you were forced upon, fingers aggressively typing out something—anything—to keep from glaring at him. But your mind is already racing, planning every possible way you could reclaim your rightful spot without actually asking. 

You could get here earlier tomorrow. Beat him to it.

It wouldn’t be that hard. So, you let the thought settle, a slow petty satisfaction creeping in. You continue writing whatever it is that you are, and think of tomorrow. 

You walk into the library, this time with a little bounce in your step, a satisfied little smirk tugging at your lips as you take a slow, victorious sip of your drink. It’s sweet, something fruity with just the right amount of tartness; a perfect mix, like the universe was apologizing for yesterday.

Today, you were winning, and you made sure of it. 

You left earlier than usual, cutting through campus like you were a woman on a mission, and you did sacrifice your usual few minutes of mindless rotting on socials just to be here. Before anyone else, but especially before him. If yesterday was an unfortunate twist of fate, today is divine justice. That chair is yours, and you’re going to sit in it. Reclaim it. 

And so, with the extra pep in your stride, you weave through the aisle, your fingers tightening around your cup, anticipation creeping up on you. The closer you get, the more your confidence builds, your mind already savoring the feeling of sinking back in your spot, watching the light filter through the window, so perfectly onto your back. The thought of stretching out into the space that’s so perfectly yours that you could, well you could nearly—

And then, the world stops. 

You see it. 

Rather, you see, him. Sitting in your chair. Again. 

You come to a dead stop, nearly choking on your own drink in disbelief. 

He’s there, again, stretched out in your chair. His laptop is already open, positioned at just the right angle, his fingers yet again lazily tapping away against the keyboard like he has all the time in the world. His iced coffee—which frankly, he doesn't deserve—sits right beside him, condensation trailing down and onto the wooden table. An easy sign that he’s been here for a while. 

Like he planned this. Like he knew. 

He looks up. 

His eyes meet yours, just for a second, and then, the slowest, most insufferable grin spreads across his face. The same shit-eating grin from yesterday. It makes your stomach twist in a way you absolutely refuse to acknowledge. 

He raises his cup slightly, like a toast. 

“Morning.”

You can’t pull yourself to say anything. So you just blink at him. 

He knows. He absolutely knows. He knows that you know, that he knows. 

“Are you,” you exhale sharply through your nose, tightening your grip on your cup, almost to the point of spilling. “Are you serious?”

He just shrugs. “What? You didn’t call dibs.”

With every fiber of your being, you absolutely hate him.

“You—” you glance up at the clock on the wall, you are scrambling to process this. “What time did you even get here?”

“Earlier than you,” he replies smoothly, taking a slow sip of his coffee. 

You grimace. 

He just looks at you. Calm and amused. Infuriatingly so. He seems the type to enjoy watching people unravel. But you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that this has genuinely thrown you off. 

So, instead, you gather everything together in you, lift your chin ever so slightly, and step forward. 

“Fine.”

You grab the same god-awful chair from yesterday—the chair that has no business even existing—and sit across from him. 

And him?

Still wearing that same stupid smile. 

The third day comes around, and you’re prepared. 

You don’t just leave early, you have a clear cut plan. Perfectly executed. 

And now, here you are, victorious.

Sitting in your rightful spot, drink in hand, soaking in the warmth of your cozy little chair. The sunlight filtering through the window, hitting just the right angle on your back, and you lean into it, savoring every single second. It’s sweet, really. You won. 

It honestly should feel a little embarrassing how smug you feel about it, but you didn’t mind too much. He did have it coming. If he thought he could steal your chair two days in a row, then he clearly had you grossly underestimated your willpower to be petty. 

You’re mid-sip, indulging in your well-earned satisfaction, when you hear the footsteps. The presence. The slight pause in movement, like someone just registered something unexpected, just as you had the days prior. 

You glance up, and there he is. 

He stands a few feet away, his bag slung over his right shoulder, his iced coffee in his opposite hand. His head tilts slightly as he takes in the scene before him. 

Then, the slowest, most ridiculously amused smile spreads across his face, leaving you curious. 

“Oh, wow.” He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “You really wanted that seat, did you?”

You set your drink down, crossing your legs, leaning back into the chair like second nature. “What can I say? Everything returns to how it should be. This is universal justice.”

His lips twitch, brows furrowed, like he’s holding back a laugh. “Right. And by justice, you mean beating me here by, what? A few minutes?”

“Not my fault you slacked today.” You say, raising an eyebrow. “Seems like you’ve lost your edge.”

His eyes narrow ever so slightly. Not in an irritated way, more like he’s intrigued. He studied you for a second longer, then—

“Well.” He exhales once more, tapping his fingers against his cup. “Guess I’ll just have to take the seat across from you then, won’t I?”

And your smugness falters, just a little. 

Because of course he would. 

You shift, sitting up slightly as he moves, pulling out the chair across from yours—the very same god-forsaken, uncomfortable, completely cursed chair that you suffered in for the past two days. Except, unlike you, he doesn’t seem remotely bothered, not in the slightest. He just sets his drink down, slides into the seat, and looks right at you, as if this is all completely normal. 

You narrow your eyes. “You’re really going to sit there?”

He lifts a brow. “Did you call dibs on this too?”

Your jaw tightens at the audacity this man has. 

He takes a slow sip of his coffee, mockingly slow, before setting it down. “Besides,” he muses, tilting his head slightly, “it’s kind of nice sitting across from someone. Good company and all.”

You blink. “...We’re not company.”

“Sure we are.” 

“No, we’re not.”

He hums, unconvinced. Then after a beat he speaks again. “So, what’s your name, then?”

You pause, skeptical. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Figured if we’re gonna keep stealing seats from each other, we might as well know what to call one another.”

You study him for a moment. There’s something genuinely amazed in his expression, like he’s been entertained by you this entire time. Like this has been fun for him. 

Before you can answer, he glances at your cup, then gives you that familiar shit-eating grin. “Y/N.”

Your eyes widen. “How do you—?”

He nods at your drink. “Your name’s on the cup, genius.”

You glance down, and sure enough, there it is, scrawled in black marker across the side of your cup. 

“Oh,” you blink, feeling a little ridiculous. “Right.”

He chuckles softly, turning his own cup slightly so you can see the name written on it. 

Yunho. 

Your eyes trace over the letters as he leans forward, just a little, barely noticeable, and rests his forearms on the table. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, voice so smooth, almost like he was teasing. “I’m Yunho.”

You roll his name around in your mind. Yunho. It suits him, somehow. 

You take a moment to clear your throat. “Well, Yunho,” you say, meeting his gaze. “Just so we’re clear—this seat is mine.”

His grin only widens. “We’ll see.”

The fourth day, you tell yourself, is going to be different. 

Not because you’re going to get all worked up over a chair again. No, you’ve got things to do. Things a collegiate student has got to do; assignments to complete. You’re here for a productive study session.

Except, when you round that last corner again, Yunho is already there. 

He’s sitting in your seat and is wearing his signature smirk when he sees you approaching. 

“You’re slacking,” he says, sipping his iced coffee. “I expected better.”

You exhale through your nose, leveling him with a look. “I’m not here for games today.”

He raises an eyebrow, acting surprised. “Oh? Then what brings you to these parts?”

You wordlessly pull out the infamous chair across from him and sit down, dropping your bag onto the table. “I have work to do.”

Yunho leans forward, his hands cupping his chin as he looks up to you. “How tragic.”

You ignore him, taking out your laptop and flipping it open. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even pretend to do anything productive. Instead, he stays in the same state he was, his cheeks pressed against the palms of his hands. He just stays there for a minute, and then, his pen clicks.

You don’t acknowledge it at first. 

His pen continues to click. 

But you keep typing. 

And so does the clicking. 

You pause. Inhaling sharply, forcing yourself to stay composed, and then resume your work. 

A thumb presses down on the end of his pen a few more times and the clicks practically echo through your ears. You can only take so much of it. You slap your hand down on the table, making the pen jump from his grasp. “Do you have an actual reason to be here, or are you just here to irritate me?”

Yunho blinks. Then he grins. “Oh, I definitely have work to do.”

“...Then do it.”

He shrugs. “I work better with background noise.”

You let out a short and dry laugh, almost sounding strained. “Right. And I’m supposed to believe that?”

He tilts his head, clearly entertained by what you had to say. “What, you think I just came here to mess with you, someone I met only three days ago?”

“Yes.”

He scoffs before placing a hand over his chest in dramatics. “I am appalled by your false ideologies.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to your laptop. “If you have actual work, do it. Otherwise, find someone else to annoy.”

“Tempting,” he says, “but no one else reacts quite as such as you.”

You make it a point to ignore him, willing yourself to focus on the assignment. For a few minutes, it works, it’s quiet, save for the faint sounds of typing and shuffling pages behind you. You start to think maybe, just maybe, you’ll get some work done today. 

Then he speaks again. 

“I think you should take a break.”

You don’t stop typing, you don’t even look up. “I’ve been working for ten minutes.”

“Exactly. I think you’re overworking yourself.”

Your lips pressed together in a straight, thin line. “You just want me to stop working so you can bother me more.”

“Maybe,” he admits. Then after a beat, “Or maybe I just think it’s a little unfair that we’re sitting here and not talking.”

You finally glance at him, skeptical, wary. “Why do you want to talk to me so badly?”

He sits and acts as if he’s thinking hard on the topic, going far enough to point a finger to his lips as his eyes furrow into each other, like he’s deep in thought. He seemed to enjoy this. Humming, he says “Maybe because you’re the only person in this library that looks personally offended by my being here.”

You scowl. “I’m not offended. Just… mildly inconvenienced.”

“Ah, so you do like me then.”

You scoff, turning back to your laptop. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Yunho.”

He hums, seemingly satisfied. “Oh, so now you’re calling me by my name?”

You don’t respond, instead pretending to type something important. Yunho chuckles softly before reaching for his coffee, taking a slow, deep sip as he watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. 

Eventually, his eyes shifted from you, to your laptop, he appeared to be tuning into the sound of the keys clacking, one after the other. And from the laptop, his eyes followed to the drink you brought with. A sixteen ounce iced strawberry lemonade mixed with black tea and popping boba. The exact order stickered onto the side of the cup with your name scribbled to the left.  The exact same one from the days before. 

Eventually, he followed your lead and did his own studying, both of you working silently away. The minutes continued on as the two of you were engulfed in your academics, until eventually the library closed for the day, the two of you heading your separate ways. 

You’re already running late, which never happens. Usually, you’re the first one at the library, tucked into your usual spot before the place fills up. But today, Thirty minutes were stolen from you. You were in your sweatpants, and barely awake. And of course, as you rounded the corner, the first thing you see when you walk in is Yunho—leaning into the chair, looking up from his laptop.

“Thought I’d see you eventually,” he says, casually stirring his drink in his hand. “Here.” he continues as he pushes a familiar pink drink your way. 

You blink at him. “You- you ordered for me?”

Yunho shrugs, just pushing the cup even further across the table. “You’re never this late. Figured something tragic must’ve happened, like, maybe you overslept for the first time in your life.”

You narrowed your eyes, inspecting the label. Sure enough, it’s exactly what you would have ordered given the chance. “How would you even know what I get?”

“Habit of mine,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I pay attention.”

You let out a breath of air, sliding into the chair across from him and flipping open your laptop. “That’s a little creepy.”

“Oh definitely.” He takes a sip of his drink, then gestures at your outfit with an amused look. “Gotta say, sweatpants are a new look for you.”

You just groan. “Don’t start.”

“No, I mean it,” he says, leaning back, his grin only widening. “It’s a good look on you.”

You pause. Blinking at him again. He isn’t teasing—well, maybe a little—but there’s something fairly effortless about the way he says it that makes your face warm, just a little. It’s either the sheer confidence of it or the fact that it’s coming from him, of all people. However, you are determined not to let him get the upper hand, you roll your eyes and turn your attention to your laptop. “What are you pretending to work on today?”

“Same thing as you.”

Your lips pulled to one side, almost frowning. “What?”

“We’re in the same class, genius.”

Your brain practically stutters. “No we’re not—”

“East wing, big lecture hall, right? Got to be at least two hundred students? You sit near the front.”

You hesitate for a moment before you nod.

Yunho raises a brow, looking a little too pleased with himself. “Exactly. I sit further back.”

You stare at him, trying to process this information. “You’ve been in my class this whole time?”

He nods, tapping his fingers against the table. “Guess you just never noticed.”

Your cheeks flushed a rosy color again. You go to open your mouth, then close it again in a hurry. You don’t know why you’re feeling so oddly flustered. “Well, sorry, but I actually pay attention to the professor, not the people behind me.”

Yunho chuckles. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Something about the way he says it—lighthearted, so amused, but also kind of observant—it makes your stomach continue to twist in a weird way. Has he been noticing you this whole time? Shaking the thought away, you change the subject. “Alright, so what’s the assignment this time?”

“The paper. The one due next week.”

You groan yet again, rubbing your temples in slight pain of the topic. “Right. That one.”

Yunho tilts his head. “Don’t tell me you haven’t started.”

“Oh, I’ve started,” you mutter. “Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

He chuckles, nodding in a quiet understanding before he talks again. “Yeah, I get that. I’m still trying to wrap my head around half the material myself.”

You glance at him, curiosity now piqued. “You don’t get it?”

“Not all of it,” he admits, spinning the pen effortlessly between his fingers. It almost seemed dwarfed in his hand. “Takes me a while to really absorb everything. That’s why I usually keep studying after the library closes.”

You blink, taking in the almost shocking information. “Wait—you study after the library closes?”

Yunho shrugs. “Yeah. Just go back to my dorm and keep going until it just sticks.”

Something about that makes you pause. You’ve never really thought about how he works, you always assumed he was the kind of person who breezed through everything, given his calm and collected demeanor. The idea that he has to put in extra effort, that he stays up late grinding through the material, makes you look at him differently. “I didn’t know you studied that hard,” you say.

Yunho tilts his head sideways, leaning in. His head perched on his left hand whilst his right continues bobbing the pen back and forth.  “Some of us aren’t naturally geniuses.”

You huff a small laugh in retort. “You could’ve asked for help, you know.”

He stares back at you before letting his lips twitch upwards. “Oh? And miss out on all of this? Nah.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s something about the exchange that feels a little different. Less like your usual bickering, there’s a little something more to his teasing this time, even if it’s small.

The thought lingers as you turn back to your laptop, typing out a few sentences before glancing at him again. He’s still spinning his pen, deep in thought, lips slightly pursed. He must sense you watching him because he looks up, eyes meeting yours in a way that makes your breath catch for just a second. 

He tilts his head. “What?”

You shake your head quickly, looking away. “Nothing.”

There’s a pause. And then, “You know, if you’re feeling generous, you could help me study sometime. You know, you do owe me a drink.”

You glance back at him, raising a brow. “After the library closes?”

His lips quirk up. “That is, if you’re up for it.”

A small silence settles between the two of you. He’s sitting there with a grin on his face, not the usually shit-eating one, but an easy one, something that makes you feel uncomfortably calm. You tap your finger against your laptop, considering the offer. 

“Maybe,” you say. “If you promise to stop making fun of my sweatpants.”

His grin grows a little deeper. “No promises.”

You roll your eyes yet again, but your lips twitch up despite your knowledge. The assignment still looms over you, and you know there’s work to be done, but for now, maybe you could let it wait. There’s always time to study after the library closes. 

[tangerineastronaut]

hello can I get ateez members as doms? how they act with there subs in these relationship.

Dom!ATEEZ and Sub!Reader individual dynamics | ot8

Pairing: ot8 and their Dom!style Genre: ot8 reactions Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: BDSM dynamics, mentions of smut/sex/etc, discussion of punishments, dacryphilia A/N: what even is this I am so sorry this is so bad omg Please remember this is just my take. If you disagree, you're more than welcome to make your own! Don't take it personally 🫶🏽 Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Hongjoong

Be afraid

^ When you’re bad (most of the time, u little shit)

Hard!Dom, strictest of the members

Brat tamer 100000% but doesn't want to be

Genuinely gets angry when you’re a brat, would prefer if you’d just listen to him

Punishments are meant to break you emotionally

Worst of all the members in that regard tbh

Will deny you things rather than physical discipline ~ praise, orgasms, affection

Wants you desperate and needy, it gives him control over you

Can forget to give you praise at times, does not get angry if you ask/remind him

“Ah, sorry. I’ve been busy, baby. Yes, I’m proud of you for going out today, I know you’ve been struggling recently. Did you eat at that cafe you liked? Did you remember to use my card? Why not? That's what it's for, love."

Blows money on you

Cannot stop buying you pretty things, especially clothes

Makes you try on the things he's purchased for you - usually ends with you getting fucked in whatever you had on last

Wants you to wear nice things when you go out to fancy dinners

Not very physically affectionate but will be if you need him to be

Will not punish you for being insecure, just wants to reassure you and make you feel beautiful

Sex is either quick and dirty or long and passionate

Fav positions are standing or missionary with your legs over his shoulders

Shower sex >>>

He's so damn busy there's not much other choice

Looks so fucking hot when he's got you pinned to the tile wall

Biting/marking - he loves to use his teeth on you

Don't you dare bite him back

Likes foreplay but prefers sex, is good at eating you out but would rather use his cock than his tongue

Is good at aftercare, though it's more of a standard, doesn't like pillow talk unless you need it

Will still make sure you're safe/comfy/loved and will do anything for you

Is rough, but can turn it off when he knows you need a softer side.

Seonghwa

Soft!dom

Gentle until he isn't

Strict, but not the strictest

Does not enjoy punishments as much as the others, but still wants to make sure you know your place

Does not understand the concept of being a brat, you're so good for him

"What do you mean no? Like no...what? I just asked you to come here, silly."

Rarely has to punish you anyway, he doesn’t have many rules

You break the rules on purpose sometimes

He’ll punish you harder if he thinks that’s the case vs you accidentally breaking a rule

Very snuggly

Will want you to just sit with him while he works with his legos

Loves to be held by you

Asks you for compliments

“Do you like this color on me?”

Will not scold you in public

Expect gentle touches and verbal correction

Hates seeing you cry, even if it's from an intense orgasm

Obsessed with aftercare

Will shower you with praise and tell you how well you did

"I'm sorry baby, I was rough today. Took me so well though, so pretty. Love it when you get on your back for me. Want me to wash your hair?"

Likes taking care of you in general, will mother you like his members (but worse)

"Why didn't you eat today?! C'mon, let's go to that noodle shop you like."

Sex is not super kinky but is almost always emotional

Pretty straightforward, wants you both to feel good and snuggle after

Likes getting head and giving head, but prefers sex over foreplay

Fav positions are spooning and intimate spaces like in a comfy chair with you in his lap

Soft kisses + him stroking your hair + thanking you for always being his good girl

Yunho

Cocky and playful

Neither soft nor hard, just likes to keep you guessing

Is silly unless he's in a bad mood

Likes to make you sit in his lap while he games

You like it too, he knows it

Will get pouty if you don't praise his efforts

Don't tease him while he plays

Fr don't

If you value your cervix, you will not tease this man when he's not in the mood for sex

"What's wrong, baby? You were whining for my attention, now you're whining that it doesn't fit? That's a fucking lie."

Size kink

Likes feeling bigger/taller/stronger than you

Expect to be teased over this, even if you're not that short

Loves taking selfies with you

A big puppy

Can be a big scary puppy

Doesn't scold you in public

Likes it when you know you're in trouble

Sweetheart but will do a 180

When he's stressed or in a bad mood he can be too rough

Sometimes it's hard to tell when it's okay to be silly and not

He will let you know

Breeding kink at its finest

Size kink + breeding kink = RIP ur ability to walk

"I know it's deep baby, shh...almost there..."

Likes making you beg

Loves to degrade you and then praise you in the same breath

Talks you through it

Very sweet, silly aftercare

Sex is not complete until you're a giggling, sleepy mess in his arms

Fav position is anything where he can manhandle you beneath him

Yeosang

Quiet dom

But not soft

Very strict but is not loud about it

Perfect brat tamer, but isn't one (you can't rile him up—most intuitive of the members and rarely rises to the occasion)

Most of his dominant side is only seen when you're alone

Does not scold you in public

Expects you to follow the rules and does not remind you

Goes straight to punishment

You cannot catch him off guard

Knows your moods before you do

Terrifyingly calm

"Is that how we're acting today? Okay."

Likes to edge you

Loves when you orgasm as soon as his cock goes in due to overstimulation

^ will continue fucking you anyway

Thinks you're prettiest when you're crying

"That good, huh? You're blushing baby...such pretty tears."

Fucks you sitting up, likes it when you cling to him and wants to feel your tears on his shoulders

Eye contact >>>

So fucking calm it's scary, truly

Like imagine you've fucked up in public and you know it, this mf just gives you the gentlest of smiles

He likes you anxious

Sex is deceptively rough

You would not expect it but he likes it to hurt

He wants you to fight back

That grip strength is not to be taken lightly

Fav position is missionary or in a car with you in his lap

Aftercare is pretty strict, he has a routine

Bathroom, water, bed, letting him hold you

Prioritizes you afterwards since he knows he can be rough

Wants you to tell him about your day as though he didn't just rail you into next tuesday

San

Very traditional dom vibes

Does not hold back on punishments like hwa

Expect an equal amount of praise and correction, heavily values both

Big on body worship, either you on him or vice versa

Will want you to kiss his chest and shoulders and remind him how safe he makes you feel

Protective, but not possessive

Best dom for daddy issues

Will tell you he's proud of you but fuck you into the mattress a few minutes later

^ while still telling you he's proud of you

Most fair punishments, typically physical but not cruel

Spankings, being made to take it on the floor, being tied down, etc etc

Loooooves tying you up

Huge on boundaries and safewords

All the members are but San prefers constant check ins

"How are we, baby? Can you still take it? Use your words, pretty girl."

Sex lasts a loooooong time from foreplay to aftercare

Like, expect to spend an entire evening in the bedroom

Only because he loves to warm you up beforehand with a few orgasms

Loves it when you orgasm

Edging is not necessary, he wants you to have as many as possible until you're overstimulated

Follows your lead during aftercare, whatever you need

"Did so good for me. What do you need from me, baby? A massage? I can do that. Love you so much. Did so well tonight."

Will let you sit in his lap while he works

Likes it when you tease him, but won't punish you right away

Makes you wait for it

"Hi baby. Remember what you did earlier? Let's figure out how to make you say sorry without words."

Fav positions are you in his lap or lying on the counter/table

Mingi

BRAT TAMER

and loves it

Will encourage you to act out just so he can punish you

Literally begging for a reason

"Please baby. Tell me no one more fucking time. The kitchen table is right there and I'm hard as fuck."

Mean and you love it

Is going to bend you over any surface when you give him the slightest inclination that you're about to act up

Effortlessly attractive, actually unfair

Genuinely does not know how wet you are simply because he's pinning you down

Lives for his own pleasure and you're along for the ride

DO NOT think he doesn't care about you getting off tho—

—and do not let that man's mouth near your pussy if you know what's good for your health

Addicted to eating you out

Mingi demands few things of you as his sub, but allowing him to ravish your pussy is a requirement

You WILL sit on his face and you WILL cry and he WILL hold your hips so you can't squirm away while he sucks your clit and makes you cum for the third time

Uses it as both a reward and punishment

That overstimulation will have you in tears

He does not care

Sex lasts a little longer than average simply because you have to pry him off of you

Impatient when it comes to you and your attitude

Punishment is always physical

Loves to spank you for misbehaving

Not the kinkiest but probably the most hypersexual of the members

LOUD sex

Aftercare is not really organized but still very involved. Expect kisses, a very clingy man, and cuddling

Loves you with your clothes on too

Can forget to give you praise, but shows you he's proud in his own ways

"You made this? Holy shit, it's amazing. My baby can cook??"

Kissing the top of your head, just because he can >>>>

Does not scold you in public—probably has not realized you've done something that warrants scolding

Is possessive and VERY jealous

Like Hongjoong, he knows when to turn it off if you need him to be gentle with you

Wooyoung

A fucking? brat dom?

Will ignore you for attention

You can't outbrat the brat

Big on silent treatment as long as he thinks you can emotionally handle it

Very touchy feely, likes grabbing you and holding you against him

Has a range of looks to give you to tell you when you've fucked up

Hates when other men stare at you, will absolutely stare back

Loves PDA the most out of the members

Does not care if you're in public, will scold you when needed

Will also tease you just to see you squirm

Is not above things like vibrating panties when you've been acting up

Loves to use his hands during punishment or praise

Expect handprints on your ass

May as well get them tattooed on there tbh

Whiny when he wants your attention

Can sometimes be too much

"Are you okay? Was that too hard?"

Likes to make you cry

Enjoys pissing you off since you can't do anything about it

Imagine getting fucked daily by your biggest opp

"Aww, are you mad? Huh? I can tell. Cry me a river while you take this cock, baby."

a menace, tbh

Sex is kinky af

DIRTY TALK mf won't shut up as it is and rambles when he's inside you

"Take it, baby. That's it, just like that. So fucking pretty. You just open those legs when I come near, huh? An obedient little slut when she expects cock."

Not super long sex but can happen multiple times a day

Possessive and jealous

Takes lots of pictures of you

^ Doing anything

"Hold still, I'm taking a pic. Can you tilt your head? Your toothbrush is in the way."

Aftercare is forehead kisses and praise, whining when you have to get up.

Big heart, loves giving you compliments and seeing you shine

Is infinitely proud of you and will not stop telling you so

Likes to do domestic things with you like cooking

Takes you on cute little dates rather than big fancy dinners

Do NOT let him hear you talking bad about yourself

Jongho

Loves being a dom the most

Similar to San, very straightforward, traditional dom

Unlike San, has a cruel streak

Basically a combination of Hongjoong and San

He feels the best when he spoils you

Wants you to buy anything you want

Obsessed with you fr

Wants to make love to you any time he can

Will pin you down but...romantically??

Master of seduction, likes you warm and ready for him

Takes you to fancy dinners and then fucks you in the car on the way home

Loves having his cock worshipped by you

Can eat pussy but prefers seeing your lips wrapped around him

Calls you good girl more than anything

"Did you take your medicine this morning? Good girl."

Isn't jealous at all

Doesn't have to be, he knows you're his

When he catches other men staring at you he feels proud like "yeah, she's mine."

Extremely physically affectionate but only in private

Gentlemanly in public, his hand is usually at the small of your back

In private he just wants to hold you

Loves picking you up

Will pet your hair and pull you in for kisses while he asks about your day

Loves your hair btw

Like, wrapped around his insane grip while he fucks you from behind

Dirty talk

"That's it, baby. Look so pretty like this. You've been wet all day, huh? Just waiting for me to get home and make it better? How many times did you touch that pussy thinking of me?"

Not super kinky, but sex is still intense

Does like to blindfold you occasionally

Likes it when he comes home from work to find you naked in bed, where you're supposed to be

"Is this for me?" he'll ask, sliding his hand over your bare ass.

Doesn't even get fully undressed before he's inside you, he's only impatient when it comes to you

Breeding kink but AUTHENTIC. Like, wants you pregnant (only when you're ready) will probably find you absolutely irresistible when pregnant

Aftercare is whatever you need but will always include water and cuddles

Very protective of you, scolds you for being clueless at times

"Why the hell did you take an uber? You should've just called me. Who knows what kind of people are out there!"

Will get angry with you but you're literally the gem of his life, he treasures you more than anything

[winxmia]

Severe cute aggression 😫😫😫