yn gently lifted her into her seat, placing a noise-canceling headset over her small ears just as the arena lights dimmed for the opening VCR.

shai squealed with delight when the crowd erupted into cheers. “mmaaammmmaaaa! ight!”

“i see, baby, i see,” yn murmured with a small smile, patting her hand. “they’re cheering for dada.”

next to them, the seats were filled with fans—young women in merch and coordinated accessories, waving lightsticks and adjusting fan cams. a couple of them noticed the adorable little girl and her matching shoes, and one of them waved hesitantly.

shai, as usual, didn’t hesitate at all. “allo!” she chirped, lifting her lightstick and waving back energetically.

the girls cooed softly, clearly enchanted. one of them leaned in to whisper, “she’s so cute! is she yours?”

yn smiled politely. “yes. she’s just a big fan.”

shai was already bouncing on her seat, her eyes trained on the main stage as the lights began to shift. she didn’t need to say it out loud, but yn could feel it—her daughter knew. she always knew when it was her father on that stage.

the music hit, and the members burst onto stage in coordinated outfits, the crowd erupting. shai squealed again, her tiny legs kicking as she clapped and lifted her lightstick. yn leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear, “there’s dada.”

and as if she could sense it, shai stood up on her seat—still safely held by yn—waving her lightstick with all her might toward the stage.

from where he stood, mid-choreo, sunghoon’s eyes flicked toward the VIP section for a split second and just barely, just long enough, he caught the flash of a tiny lightstick waving wildly from a familiar head of curls and a pair of bright brown eyes.

his heart swelled.

shai didn’t know it, but she had always been the highlight of every show for him. and tonight, it was no different.

shai had no sense of stage decorum, and honestly, it was endearing. she wasn’t quiet, wasn’t composed, and definitely wasn’t trying to be. every time sunghoon appeared on screen or passed close to their section, she screamed.

“hoo!!! dada!!!” she shouted with every ounce of her toddler lungs, lightstick flailing.

yn’s heart jumped each time the word “dada” rang out. she tried to play it off, yelling alongside her—“hoo! woohoo!”—hoping to mask the cries, blend in, muffle the damning syllable. her hand stayed tight on shai’s shoulder, trying to guide her excitement into safer, vaguer exclamations.

but shai was determined. and so very loud.

during the water break segment, when the stage lights dimmed slightly and the members huddled on screen for a casual talk with fans, the girl next to them leaned in with a friendly smile.

“sorry—just curious,” she said casually, “are you, like, related to one of the members?”

yn turned to her with a polite, almost confused expression. “no, just big fans. she loves them.”

another girl, beside her, piped up. “she kept screaming ‘dada’ for sunghoon though.”

shai, as if summoned by his name, immediately lit up. “dada!!” she cried, grinning and bouncing in her seat. “my dada!!”

yn froze.

and then she saw it—that brief flicker across their faces. first disbelief, then a flicker of understanding, and finally… that creeping horror of realization.

they weren’t just fans. the way their expressions shifted—shocked, then wide-eyed, then whispering behind cupped hands—it was all too familiar. this wasn’t harmless curiosity. these were the kind who dug through archives, compared baby photos, and tracked flight records. these weren’t regular fans.

these were sasaengs.

yn’s breath caught in her throat. her hand reached for shai instinctively, pulling her into her lap, cradling her tightly. her gaze stayed straight ahead, but her mind raced.

she had to get out of here. now. before they took pictures. before they posted. before the whispers turned to trending tags.

she leaned in close to shai, voice soft but urgent. “no more screaming, baby. we’re going to go find dada now, okay?”

shai blinked, confused, but nodded.

yn stood quickly, her heart thudding painfully as she slipped past the row of seats, shielding shai’s face with her hand and hoodie. her fingers trembled slightly as she texted sunghoon:

need u. now. emergency. back room.

and then, with shai clutched tight to her chest, she disappeared into the arena’s side corridor, praying no one had filmed that moment.

the hallway was cold compared to the concert heat, and the echo of distant basslines still vibrated through the walls. yn held shai close, her heart racing faster than it ever had before. one of the venue’s bodyguards walked briskly beside her, scanning the area as they moved.

but neither of them saw the two girls weaving through the crowd behind them, faces set with determination. they weren’t fans anymore—just predators chasing a secret.

“is that sunghoon’s kid?!” one of them yelled loudly, sharp and ringing. the hallway fell quiet for a breath.

yn turned instinctively, a chill seizing her spine. that voice wasn’t confused or excited—it was possessive, hungry.

they were closer than she realized. before she could react, one of them lunged. not for her, not even for a photo—but for the hoodie over shai’s head, trying to yank it down, to expose her face.

“let me see her—!”

“she’s his, isn’t she?!”

they didn’t care about hurting her. in the frantic grab, fingers caught in shai’s hair and pulled harshly. she wailed instantly, her face crumpling into pain, small fists clinging to her mom’s jacket as her body tensed up in pure distress. her scream echoed so loud it made yn flinch.

“DON’T TOUCH HER!” yn shouted, her voice raw with rage and panic.

the bodyguard stepped between them immediately, grabbing one of the girls by the wrist and shoving her backward. “back off now.”

yn turned to him, her face pale and wild. “call someone. anyone. get sunghoon off stage. right now.”

the guard’s hand flew to his comm. “code red. back hallway by section 3c. we need park sunghoon pulled, priority level one. this is not a drill—there’s contact with the child.”

shai was sobbing in her mother’s arms, her tiny body trembling as she whimpered repeatedly, “mamaaa… urts.. mamaaa…”

yn crouched low in the hallway, shielding her, gently stroking her hair as tears streamed down both of their faces.

“it’s okay, baby, i’ve got you,” she whispered over and over. “mama’s here. i’ve got you. you’re okay…”

the boys were scattered across the stage, each seated on tall stools, bathed in soft amber and pearl lights. it was the final q&a session of the concert—a tradition by now. fans held glowing banners and shouted their names, and the members fed off their energy, their grins wide and voices warm despite the fatigue of the final stretch.

sunoo was in the middle of answering a fan’s question—something about his skincare routine—his tone exaggerated, hands flailing for dramatic effect, making the crowd laugh with every word. he even stood from his stool, striking a mock pose, lips pursed. sunghoon, beside him, had just rolled his eyes, leaning into the mic to mutter something like, “this is so unserious,” earning a fresh wave of cheers.

and then the staff appeared.

they moved swiftly, headset in place, weaving around camera rigs and crew with purposeful urgency. the crowd barely noticed, too caught up in the laughter—but the members did. the woman reached sunghoon and leaned close to his ear, murmuring something only for him.

the smile dropped from his face in an instant.

his whole body tensed. “what?”

the staff whispered again—quieter, urgent—and though her words were indistinct to the audience, jungwon, who was seated in the stool next to him, caught enough of it.

“…your wife… something happened… backstage now.”

sunghoon stood immediately. no hesitation. he didn’t even think to excuse himself—his mic still clipped to his collar, catching the soft clatter of his stool being pushed back as he left.

jungwon’s heart plummeted. he caught heeseung’s gaze across the stage, who faltered mid-joke, confusion replacing his dramatic flair. jake leaned forward on his stool, eyes narrowing in concern. the audience, now picking up on the sudden shift, quieted slowly, murmurs rising like static.

“is he okay?” one fan shouted timidly from the front.

the rest of the boys exchanged glances but stayed put, professionalism keeping them anchored despite their concern. jungwon subtly slipped off his stool and followed after sunghoon, motioning to a stagehand to stall the crowd.

backstage was chaos. the quiet, polished veneer of the concert hall broke down behind the curtains—runners speaking frantically into earpieces, security moving with quickened steps. and amidst it all, that sound—

shai’s cries.

she wasn’t just crying. she was screaming, inconsolable, her voice shrill and hoarse like she had been doing it for minutes. it echoed down the corridor, sharp and heartbreaking.

sunghoon heard it the moment he stepped off stage.

he sprinted.

“where is she?” his voice cracked. “where’s my wife—where’s shai?!”

one of the staff members gently tried to guide him. “they’re in the dressing hallway, sunghoon—she’s okay now, the situation is under control, but—”

but he wasn’t listening anymore. he was already moving. behind him, jungwon had caught up, his face ghost-white, his breath short. he looked toward the staff for answers, but no one gave him anything clear—only fragments. something about a fan, a hoodie, hair being pulled.

shai’s cry cut through again.

and all jungwon could do was trail after him, his chest tight, praying that whatever they were about to walk into… it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

yn sat on the floor just outside the dressing room, legs folded beneath her, holding her daughter close—no, clinging to her. her arms wrapped tightly around the toddler’s back as shai cried into her chest, muffled sobs dampening the neckline of her t-shirt. her own chest rose and fell unevenly, breaths shaky and short, panic still pulsing hot in her veins. the world around her buzzed, but she couldn’t focus. she didn’t even try.

her hands shook violently as she smoothed down shai’s curls, trying to hush her with a gentle rock, but it wasn’t working. shai was trembling too, shoulders twitching with each sob, and when yn pressed her fingers into her scalp instinctively to check for injuries, her heart dropped.

there was a bump.

small, but warm and swelling.

“oh my god,” she breathed, voice breaking. “no, no—baby, i’m so sorry, i’m so—”

she choked on her words.

she hadn’t cried when the girl grabbed her. hadn’t screamed when the hoodie was yanked or when the hand darted out to grab at her child like she wasn’t a person—just an object. yn had been in survival mode. she reacted, she protected, she ran. but now…

now that they were back inside and shai was screaming in her arms, now that the security had whisked away the girls and staff swarmed her asking questions—now that everything was technically okay…

she couldn’t stop crying.

silent tears streamed down her face. she didn’t sob. she couldn’t. her body wouldn’t let her. it was too busy shaking.

every second replayed behind her eyes. the yell. the turn. the glint of recognition and malice in that girl’s eyes. the grip on shai’s hoodie, the way it had pulled back so hard it revealed the top of her head. the hand that had followed—too fast—and the little yelp of pain that came from her daughter. the way her little fists had flailed, how she’d screamed in terror.

how close they came to losing her.

“please calm down,” someone had said earlier. maybe a staff member, maybe the security. yn didn’t even look up. she didn’t want calm. she wanted sunghoon.

because no matter how tightly she held their daughter, no matter how hard she tried to soothe her, she needed him. the one person who could hold them both up when everything else felt like it was breaking.

heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway.

“YN—?”

his voice was breathless, tight with dread.

yn’s head jerked up, eyes glassy and red, lips quivering as she locked eyes with him.

“hoon,” she whispered, her voice cracking like glass.

sunghoon dropped to his knees before them, hands reaching out, shaking worse than hers. “i’m here. i’m here—oh my god—” his gaze flicked over shai’s tear-streaked face, the red of her bump just visible under her curls, her tiny fists still clinging to her mother’s chest. and then to yn’s face—pale, drenched in tears, a haunted look in her eyes like she was still stuck in the moment.

he reached for them both at once, pulling them into his arms. yn let out a strangled noise as she melted into his hold, still clutching shai, now sandwiched between their chests.

shai’s cries faltered—confused at first—then settled into hiccuping whimpers as she recognised the warmth of her dad’s arms.

“shh, baby,” sunghoon whispered, rocking them all gently. “i’ve got you. both of you. i’ve got you.”

jungwon burst around the corner, heeseung hot on his heels, both of them looking like they’d sprinted like crazy after sunghoon.

“where is she—?!” jungwon panted, eyes wide as they swept the hallway, landing on the small bundle in sunghoon’s arms. “oh my god—”

shai was curled tightly against her father’s chest, face blotchy and puffy from all the crying, her sobs reduced to little hitching gasps now, her fingers still clutching the neckline of his shirt. sunghoon had crouched to the floor, holding her securely, his head lowered close to hers, whispering calm reassurances into her ear with a soft sway that rocked all three of them—her, him and yn, who sat beside them on the floor, shell-shocked and trembling.

heeseung slowed as he entered, his eyes locked onto yn first—her tear-streaked face, the raw guilt in her expression and then to the small, red mark just visible on the side of shai’s head.

“is she—?” he choked on the words. “she’s okay?”

sunghoon nodded faintly. “physically, yeah. but she’s scared.” his voice was steady, but barely. he looked like he was one wrong breath away from unraveling.

jungwon stepped in closer, crouching low near yn, his face softening as he noticed the state she was in.

“yn…” he said gently.

she flinched.

“i’m sorry,” she said abruptly, her voice hoarse and watery. her hands fisted in the fabric of her jeans as she sat upright again, chest heaving. “i’m so sorry—sunghoon—”

“hey, hey—” he said quickly, eyes darting to hers.

“i should’ve been more careful!” she cried, words tumbling out in a rush. “she kept yelling dada and i should’ve known they would start asking—those girls, they weren’t just fans, they were sasaengs, and i—i thought security would be enough, i should’ve just taken her back, or said we needed to go, or just—”

“baby,” sunghoon said softly, firmly, still holding shai tight.

“it’s my fault,” she said again, barely holding it together. “i let my guard down. i thought we were okay because there were other people around but i should’ve known better. i put her in danger. they pulled her hair, hoon—”

her voice cracked violently at that.

sunghoon’s jaw clenched. his hand instinctively cupped the back of shai’s head, protectively covering the bruise like it was something sacred. he swallowed hard, holding her closer.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said firmly.

“but—”

“you were with her. you held her. you protected her. you brought her back.” his voice faltered slightly, then steadied again. “you did everything right, yn.”

yn shook her head, tears falling again. “but she got hurt. she was screaming—she was scared, and—”

“so were you,” jungwon said quietly, watching her with pained eyes.

“you think this is your fault?” heeseung asked, stepping closer now, kneeling beside sunghoon. “they shouldn’t have even gotten close. that’s on security. that’s on us for not anticipating something like this. not you.”

sunghoon looked down at the toddler in his arms, now resting her cheek on his chest, little fingers still clinging to his necklace. his voice softened again.

“she’s okay because of you.”

yn met his eyes, barely holding on to herself.

“you always blame yourself,” he said. “every time something bad happens. but yn, you’re her mother. you love her more than anything. you were terrified, but you didn’t let go. you fought to keep her safe.”

“i couldn’t even stop them from touching her,” she whispered, staring at the floor.

“but you got her back,” sunghoon replied. “you ran. you didn’t freeze. you didn’t waste a second. that’s what matters.”

there was a long pause. the room was thick with silence except for the quiet, shaky little breaths coming from shai, finally starting to calm down.

then yn shifted, leaning into sunghoon’s side, her head against his shoulder as her hand reached up to brush her daughter’s hair gently.

“she was so scared,” she whispered, voice breaking.

“i know,” sunghoon murmured, pressing a kiss to the crown of shai’s head. “but we’re here now. she’s safe. you’re safe.”

heeseung let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, eyes red-rimmed as he stared at the small family on the floor. jungwon looked down, his fists clenched in his lap, expression tense.

sunghoon sat quietly for a long moment, his hand softly stroking shai’s back as she slept against him. the others sat close by, the energy in the room still thick with the aftershock of what had happened. yn hadn’t moved from her spot next to him, her fingers woven into the hem of his hoodie, eyes puffy but no longer crying.

then, without lifting his head, sunghoon quietly said, “i’m going back to the hotel with you.”

heeseung and jungwon looked up immediately. “yeah, of course,” heeseung said without hesitation, already pushing himself to his feet. “we’ll go back on stage. just say there was an emergency.”

“i’ll handle it,” jungwon added, already making a beeline for the door.

“tell the fans i had to leave. make something up—family emergency, health thing, anything.”

yn turned toward him, her eyes wide. “hoon… are you sure? if you leave mid-show, you could get in trouble with the label, the press, the fans—”

“i don’t care.” he cut in gently, lifting his gaze to hers.

she blinked. he wasn’t angry—his voice was steady, almost calm—but there was something in his eyes. something resolute.

“i care about her more than anything else. you know that.”

“but it’s the last show—”

“and she was just attacked,” he said, quieter now. “my two girls were chased and grabbed in a crowd of people who are supposed to love us. she’s bruised. you’re shaking. i’m not leaving you alone right now.”

yn looked down at shai in his arms, then back at him, unsure whether to cry again or pull him in tighter.

sunghoon continued, softer now, “they can be mad. let them be mad. this is my family.”

heeseung hovered in the doorway now, glancing between them. “we’ve got you covered, hoon. don’t worry about anything else.”

jungwon gave a quick nod from behind him, already pulling out his earpiece to relay the update backstage.

sunghoon slowly stood, adjusting shai so she stayed curled close to his chest without stirring too much. she let out a little sigh, her fingers bunching up his shirt again like she could tell he was about to go anywhere.

yn followed suit, wrapping her hoodie tighter around herself, still visibly anxious. but as sunghoon reached for her hand, threading their fingers together tightly, she nodded.

“okay,” she whispered.

the ride back to the hotel was subdued, steeped in silence. the dim light from the streetlamps streaked across the seats of the car, occasionally illuminating yn’s tearstained face and sunghoon’s clenched jaw.

yn’s hands trembled as she gently pulled the tiny concert merch tee over shai’s head, her fingers careful not to disturb the little girl’s sleep. shai shifted slightly in her slumber on the hotel sheets, murmuring something incomprehensible, her cheeks still tearstained and flushed from the ordeal. yn’s breath caught in her throat as she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

she moved her fingers gently through the dark curls, whispering reassurances that shai couldn’t hear but needed to say anyway — “mama’s here, you’re okay, baby, you’re safe.” but then her hand paused. her thumb brushed over something… crusted.

her eyes darted to the spot, and her heart dropped.

just beneath the hairline near the crown of shai’s head was a small patch of dried blood. it had matted some of the strands together, the skin faintly purple from the earlier yank, now forming the beginning of a bruise.

yn’s breath stilled in her chest. her vision blurred as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. a single drop fell onto shai’s soft pajama top as she instinctively shielded the small form with her body, like she could still protect her from what had already happened.

across the room, sunghoon was pacing with his phone to his ear, voice low but tense as he spoke with his manager. he was explaining the situation calmly, professionally—at least trying to—but his shoulders were rigid, jaw clenched tight like he was holding back the full brunt of emotion.

yn looked up, her eyes shimmering with pain and helplessness, the kind that only a parent could feel. her lips quivered as she called softly, barely above a whisper, “hoon…”

he turned instantly, mid-sentence, eyes snapping to her face. she didn’t need to say a word.

his gaze followed hers down to the back of shai’s head, to where her fingers hovered protectively. the sight alone was enough. he saw the blood. he saw the way yn was holding herself, trying not to shatter completely.

“hyung, i’ll call you back,” he said quickly into the phone, not even waiting for a response before hanging up. he crossed the room in two quick strides, dropping to his knees beside the bed, his palm gently resting on shai’s back.

yn’s lips finally parted, the words tumbling out in a choked whisper, “there’s blood, hoon. i didn’t see it earlier, but it’s there—what if it’s worse than we thought? what if something happened inside—”

he reached up, cupping the side of her face, thumb brushing under her eye to catch a tear. “breathe, baby. breathe. we’ll take her to the doctor first thing in the morning. just to be sure. i promise.”

“but—”

“we’ll get her checked. everything. we’re not taking chances, yn. but look at her right now,” he said gently, voice thick. “she’s sleeping. she’s safe. we’re okay.”

yn let out a small, shaky exhale. her eyes dropped down to their daughter, still curled in the sheets, her breathing soft and steady. she nodded slowly, burying her face in sunghoon’s shoulder, her fingers still clutching shai’s pajama sleeve.

he held them both there on the hotel bed, one arm around yn and the other resting over shai, his family, all that mattered.

masterlist / prev / next

“please, baby,” he murmured. “just one kiss,” he whispered, voice soft and sweet as he leaned to place a kiss on your feet. “one tiny little kiss, baby. i’ve been good, haven’t i?” 

you glanced at him, eyebrows pinched together. “you’ve been begging and i don’t appreciate that,” you replied, focusing back on your book to flip to the next page. “the whole point of this is to stop you from kissing all over me every two fucking seconds.”

yeah—that’s right. 

you put sunghoon on a timeout.

it’s not hard really, and it could’ve easily been avoidable if he hadn’t acted like a complete child the other day.

you two had been at your family house. one minute you were just sitting together on the couch, watching a christmas movie on a summer night, and the next sunghoon had pulled you onto his lap and started kissing you like he’d been starved for days.

and when sunghoon kissed—he really, fucking kissed. 

“my baby,” sunghoon murmured, cradling your face in his bigger hands, tilting your head exactly how he wanted while his lips moved slow and deep against yours. he kept sighing softly into your mouth, licking along your bottom lip before sucking on it gently.

letting out a soft moan, he took that opportunity to slide his tongue inside. it was messy. wet. the kind of kiss where he kept changing angles, chasing your mouth every time you tried to breathe, humming in satisfaction whenever your lips parted more for him.

it went on for a couple of minutes, until mixed drool hung from both of your lips and chins—until sunghoon’s hand started wandering underneath your shirt and he was about to take it off when—

your grandmother came down the stairs.

to be fair, the two of you were so lost in it that neither of you heard. and you probably shouldn’t be making out in the living room—but everyone was fast asleep! 

she saw everything.

she saw sunghoon’s hand creeping underneath your shirt. 

she saw your boyfriend was still greedily making out with you, lips swollen and glossy and his eyes were hazy and almost droopy. your shirt fell on one shoulder, and sunghoon’s shirt was wet with drool. 

and it didn’t help that you were on his lap too.

your grandmother had cleared her throat loudly, and you wanted to die from embarrassment on the spot. she just chuckled and said something of—young love—before walking away like it was nothing. 

the humiliation burned, and that became the final straw. 

“but she didn’t even mind! she smiled—i saw her smile!”

you gave him a deadpan look, shaking your head. “i minded. it’s not your grandma—so you don’t know how that felt for me. she raised me for god’s sakes.”

he leaned forward, resting his cheek on your knee, now massaging your calf. 

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. then, sunghoon kissed your knee. “i just… i can’t help it. your lips were right there, and they looked so soft and…” he glanced at your mouth again. 

gosh, that honey wax lip balm was really making your lips extra shiny and plump, huh? he thought, licking his own lips. he ought to get you more lip balms so you can wear them at home, from now on. 

“please? just one kiss. i’ll be so quick—i swear!”

you sighed, smiling as you extended your arm to caress his cheek. 

“sunghoon,” you hummed, thumb brushing the apple of his cheek. your boyfriend’s eyes widened slightly before he nodded eagerly, smile widening. 

“get off me, and don’t piss me off.”

——

it truly gets to the point where he’s doing just about anything to get your forgiveness. 

the next morning, you woke up to the smell of breakfast. when you walked in, still half–asleep in his oversized tshirt, the sight that greeted you was almost comical.

sunghoon was shirtless, setting up the table with favourite fruits, iced coffee, meal, and there was even a small vase of flowers he clearly ran out to buy earlier. 

“good morning, baby,” he said, rushing over to pull out your chair. “please have a seat… i made all your favorites." 

you raised your eyebrows, taking a seat nonetheless. “... what are you doing?”

“repenting,” he answered, kneeling beside your chair and resting his chin on your thigh and looked up at you with those sparkling eyes. “i know that now—i embarrassed you in front of grandma.”

you hummed, clearly not buying it. 

“right.”

that wasn’t all. 

sunghoon was acting like you had sentenced him to life in prison. 

throughout the next two days, his desperation only kept growing. what started as sweet gestures turned into sneaky little attacks. he’d kiss the top of your head when he walked past you sitting on the couch. he’d snuck behind you while you were washing dishes and planted soft kisses along the side of your neck before you swatted him away.

gosh—he was insufferable. 

“sunghoon!” you scolded, turning around with a frown. “when i said no kissing, i meant anywhere! stop trying to find loopholes.”

he blinked at you innocently, lips still hovering near your shoulder with his hands resting on your hips. “but that wasn’t on your lips… it doesn’t count, right?”

“yes, it does,” you said sternly, holding him by his shoulders and pulling him away. “you’re being ridiculous. it’s only been—what?—two days. you’re not dying.”

“you don’t understand,” he whined, following you back to the couch like a puppy with his leash behind. when you sat down on the couch with your legs up, sunghoon gripped your thighs, kneeling between them. “it feels like i’m dying.”

you ignored him and picked the remote up, but he wasn’t done.

your boyfriend leaned in and pressed a kiss to your bare knee, then another higher up on your thigh. you immediately closed your legs, using your toes to push at his shoulder. 

“no!”

he looked up at you with the most pitiful expression, eyes big and pleading. 

“just this once,” he begged, voice soft and shaky. “please, baby. one real kiss—and after that you can put me on another timeout for a whole week. just let me kiss you properly right now. i’m going insane.”

you stared at him in disbelief. he couldn’t even survive two days, let alone two weeks? talk about nonsense.

“babe—it’s just kissing!” you exclaimed. “it’s not like you can’t talk to me, or touch me, or be near me. you’re acting like i’m torturing you when all i asked was for you to stop mauling my face every few minutes.”

“but kissing you is my favourite thing to do,” he mumbled, pressing his forehead against your thigh. gosh, he’s such a fucking kid. “i really, really need it. i miss how soft they are… how they taste… i miss the little sound you make when i suck on your bottom lip—”

“sunghoon—” 

he lifted his head again. 

“yn, i’ll do anything.” 

you stared at him for a long moment—this five–foot–evelen tall, composed and deemed cool man literally on his knees begging for a… kiss? 

you let out a sigh.

“...okay. fine.”

sunghoon’s face lit up instantly with pure hope. a bright, relieved smile started to form.

“but we’re doing it my way,” you added quickly, cutting off his excitement. “one chance, park sunghoon. you follow my rules. if you pass, timeout ends tonight. if you fail… that’s four more days.”

he nodded frantically, his selective hearing stopped listening after the timeout ends tonight. 

“yes, anything! i’ll do anything.”

——

what…?

sunghoon frowned as he’s left completely naked, lying on his back in the middle of the bed, wrists bounded tightly to the headboard with his own silk tie. his chest was already heaving, abs flexing under you as you sat comfortably on his stomach, wearing nothing but a thin pair of panties. 

his cock was painfully hard, aching, and leaking against his lower stomach, twitching every few seconds with spurts of precum shooting out—but he couldn’t do anything about it. not with his bounded wrists—he couldn’t touch you. couldn’t pull you down. and most importantly—

he’s still not allowed to kiss you.

you reached over to the nightstand and picked up your favourite toy—a small vibrator—before turning it on. the low buzzing filled the room. 

sunghoon frowned, his eyes darkened as he watched you slowly pulled your panties to the side, positioning the vibrating head right against your clit. his breath hitched—he thought he’d thrown it out—

“ngh,” a low, soft moan left your lips as you settled back down on his toned stomach, using him as your seat. 

“baby…” he breathed out, voice already strained. his hips twitched uselessly beneath you. “this is just mean.”

the corner of your lips twitched into a smirk, looking down on him. “you said you’d do anything,” you reminded him sweetly, slowly rolling your hips as you pressed the toy harder against yourself. “so behave. if you can stay still and quiet until i cum—you win.”

his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes locked on your face, then your wet lips that you kept licking and biting, then the way your tits moved every time you grinded down on his abs. 

you’re so fucking wet, it smeared across his stomach. the sight of him tied up and desperate underneath you was affecting you more than you expected…

sunghoon bit his lip harshly, eyes fluttering when he felt you wet folds rubbing back and forth on his stomach. his wrists pulled against the tie. 

“fuck—you’re dripping on me,” he groaned, head falling back for a second before he forced himself to look at you again. his voice cracked. “don’t do this—shit,”

you clicked your tongue and pressed the toy harder against your clit, letting out a pretty moan that made his cock jump.

“you can always say you give up, and suffer four more days.”

sunghoon whined loudly, a broken, frustrated sound low from his stomach went straight to your core. his eyes were glassy, lips parted as he watched you with desperation. 

“baby… fuck, please,” he rasped, voice strained. “at least let me touch you. or let me touch myself. shit—”

his cock twitched. 

“no,” you cut him off, rolling the vibrator in slow, teasing circles over your swollen clit. “you don’t get to touch me anything. that’s the deal.” 

a pitiful groan left his throat as you started grinding your soaked pussy against his toned stomach, spreading your wetness all over his abs. lewd, wet sounds of you rubbing yourself filled the room. sunghoon’s eyes rolled back for a second. 

“you’re getting so wet,” he breathed, abs flexing underneath you every time you rolled your hips. “i can feel it dripping down my sides… why are you doing this—?”

you ignored him and only moaned louder, grinding down harder, using his body like he was nothing but your personal toy. the vibrator buzzed relentlessly against your clit while you rocked back and forth, leaving a shiny mess all over.

sunghoon looked wrenched. 

his cock was painfully hard, flushed dark and leaking onto his skin. every time you moaned, his hips jerked up instinctively, but he couldn’t reach you. 

he thought he could still hold it back. after all, you’re not that hard to please. you’d probably cum in just a few minutes, and sunghoon could relieve himself in the bathroom. and the timeout would be called off.

then you reached over to the nightstand again. 

sunghoon’s eyes widened when he saw what you pulled out—a dildo.

“baby, no,” he breathed, shaking his head. “no, no, no—wait, what the fuck?”

you didn’t answer. instead, you brought the toy to your lips, looking straight at him while you sucked on the tip. you swirled your tongue around it, taking it deeper into your mouth with wet, obscene sounds, hollowing your cheeks.

he frowned even deeper—he looked like he was going to burst.

“babe, what the fuck—?!” his wrists yanked hard against the tie, the headboard cracking. “don’t do that. why are you sucking that shit? that’s not fair—yn, please—!”

his voice was full of pure jealousy as he watched you lube the dildo up with your mouth, eyes dark and frustrated and pissed the fuck off and annoyed. you pulled it out with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting your lips to the toy.

sunghoon looked like he was going to lose his mind. his breath quickened.

you lifted your hips, panties now fully to the side, and slowly dragged the thick head of the dildo along your folds, teasing yourself right above his stomach. 

“no, no, no—don’t ride that. yn, i’m literally right fuckin’ here. i’m literally right here,” he begged, voice hoarse and whiny. “why the fuck would you use that when you have me? you’re so fuckin’ mean—and now you’re gonna fuck yourself on that thing on top of me?”

you lined the dildo up with your entrance and began sinking down onto it with a long, satisfied moan, right on his lower stomach—like it’s his dick. the sight of you taking the toy so easily made sunghoon’s cock twitch violently, a fresh bead of precum rolling down his shaft.

“fuck… this is torture,” he groaned, head falling back against the pillow as he watched you ride the dildo. “i hate this—i hate this so much. that should be me, fuck!”

you smiled down at him sweetly, rolling your hips in slow, deep circles, letting the toy drag against every sensitive spot inside you. while it’s nothing compared to your boyfriend’s, you figured you’d settle for this for now.

“mmh… but this feels so good, though?” you sighed, voice breathy and teasing. you braced your hands on his chest and started bouncing on it faster, making sure your ass brushed against his aching cock. “it’s so thick… filling me up just right.”

sunghoon’s eyes twitched, glued to where the toy disappeared inside you. his abs flexed hard everytime you sank down.

“baby, shit—” he groaned. “take it out. use me instead. i’m right here, i’m so hard for you—”

you ignored him and rode the dildo harder, moaning louder on purpose. your wetness was dripping all over his stomach. you reached down and rubbed your clit in time with your movements, putting on a full show just for him. 

“look at you,” you cooed. “does it hurt, hoonie? knowing this could be your cock but you’re too greedy to behave?” you groaned, tipping your head back. “i would’ve ended the timeout anyway—but you couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”

sunghoon let out a broken whine, yanking harshly on his restraints. his hips bucked up uselessly, trying to chase any kind of friction. 

“i can’t—i can’t do this anymore,” he gasped, eyes glassy and desperate. “please let me fuck you—shit, let me kiss you, baby. i’ll—i’ll do anything, i don’t care anymore.”

you slowed your movements and leaned forward, bracing your hands on either side of his head. slowly, you lowered yourself until your face hovered right above his. your lips were so close—just centimetres away. you cupped his flushed cheeks with both hands, thumbs gently stroking his skin. 

sunghoon’s breathing hitch then stopped. his lips parted, eyes wide. 

you tilted your head slightly, lips brushing the tiniest bit against his—just a ghost one. you could feel his hot breath trembling against you. 

sunghoon let out a soft, needy sound.

but right before your lips could properly meet, you pulled back. 

you sat up straight again, still cupping his face for a second longer before letting go with a soft  chuckle. 

your boyfriend’s expression shattered. 

“no… no—!” he groaned. “don’t do this to me. you were so close—baby, please!” 

with one last hard yank on the tie, the headboard creaked loudly—

“i can’t anymore,” sunghoon hissed. “i give up, yn. i fucking give up—please just kiss me. i don’t care about the timeout anymore. i’ll take that four fucking days. please, i’m begging you.”

sunghoon looked up at you, chest heaving.

“i surrender.”

you watched him for a second—flushed, desperate, utterly ruined. a part of you was disappointed with how bad his restraint was, another part of you knew who to blame.

“alright then.”

you reached up and untied the silk tie from his wrists. the moment the fabric loosened and fell away—he surged forward. his hands grabbed your waist as he flipped you both over. you let out a surprised gasp as your back hit the mattress, and suddenly he was on top of you—caging you completely with his bigger frame.

his breathing was ragged as he hovered over you. one of his hands immediately slid to the back of your neck, the other gripping your hip. 

“none of this bullshit anymore,”

then he crashed his lips onto yours.

it was pure hunger.

sunghoon kissed you like he was trying to devour and suck the living shit out of you—deep, messy, obsessive, starved. he tilted his head, sucking on your bottom lip before pushing his tongue into your mouth, licking and tasting every inch like he’d been denied oxygen for days.

wet, filthy sounds filled the room as he kissed you harder, groaning loudly against your lips.

“fucking finally,” he gasped between kisses, barely pulling back an inch. “missed your lips so much… so fucking much.”

he didn’t let you breathe. every time you tried to pull back for air, sunghoon chased your lips and punished you by kissing you even deeper, tongue sliding against yours with wet, desperate strokes. his hand cradled your jaw, keeping your face right where he wanted so he could indulge himself fully. 

his body pressed you down into the mattress, hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he kept making out with you. your boyfriend’s fingers pressed your cheeks together, making your lips pout for him. 

“mmph—!” you muffled. 

sunghoon hummed at the ecstasy, eyes half–lidded in bliss as he kept your face squished between his slender fingers. he pulled back just enough to stare at your forced pout, then started peppering greedy, wet kisses all over your pushed out lips—soft at first, then harder, sucking on your bottom lip.

“fuck… look at you,” he whispered. “so fucking adorable—you’re so fucking cute.”

then he dove back in, kissing you deeper than before. his tongue pushed past your lips, licking into your mouth messily, tasting every inch while his spit mixed with yours. he was so greedy—sucking on your tongue, licking the roof of your mouth, then pulling back just to let strings of spit connect you before he licked them away and kissed you again. 

you couldn’t utter a single word—not with the way sunghoon kept your cheeks squished the entire time, occasionally changing the angle so he could kiss you from a new side. his hips never stopped moving, grinding his leaking cock between your pussy lips, the tip nudged and kissed your little clit.

“shit—gonna make you my wife,” he moaned between messy kisses, breathing hot and heavy against your mouth. “wanna be my wifey, baby? fuck—legally bounding you to me forever.” 

his cock twitched. 

sunghoon liked the sound of it. 

he squished your cheeks tighter, sealing his mouth over yours once more—deep, filthy, and so wet that drool was starting to drip down your chin. he licked it up without hesitation and fed it back to you with his tongue, moaning loudly when you whimpered.

“mmph—” you muffled, nails dragging red lines over his toned back. 

sunghoon groaned at the sting, the sound vibrating into your mouth. finally, he loosened his grip on your cheeks and pulled back just enough for you to gasp desperately for air, chest heaving. “hah—!” 

you barely managed three shaky breaths before his hand came back to your jaw, thumb pressing on your bottom lip. 

“stick your tongue out,” he ordered.

you hesitated for half a second, still catching your breath. sunghoon frowned.

“baby,” he said. “i said, stick your tongue out for me.”

you swallowed the lump and saliva in your throat before letting your tongue slip past your swollen lips. sunghoon leaned down and immediately pressed his own tongue flat against yours. it’s so disgustingly filthy. he licked it slowly, then started playing with it shamelessly—curling, stroking, sucking on the tip before licking it again.

“that’s it,” he murmured against your mouth. while your eyes were shut, sunghoon occasionally opened his just to see the flushed look on your face. “just like that.”

he kept your mouth open with his thumb on your chin, tongue sliding, curling, dancing against yours in the most obscene way possible. he was so completely lost in it.  

it didn’t take long.

“ah—fuck, baby!”

sunghoon kept kissing—making out, french kissing, wet mouth fucking—you desperately. and with a broken moan that vibrated against your mouth, his hips stuttered. his whole body tensed as he came hard, thick ropes of cum spilling against your lower tummy. he kissed you through it—whimpering into your mouth as he rode out his orgasm.

only when he finally stopped shaking did he pull back slightly, breathing heavily against your lips. 

you laid there completely spent, chest heaving, staring blankly up at the ceiling as your mind spun. your body felt like jelly.

there is no fucking way, you thought. i’m ever putting him on timeout again. 

who knows how crazy he’d get next time.

meanwhile, sunghoon collapsed half on top of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his arms wrapped tightly around your body, pulling you flush against him. 

“i love you,” he mumbled against your skin, dripping with affection. “ugh… i love you so much.”

sunghoon pressed soft, lazy kisses all over your cheek, then your jaw, then back to your cheek again, nuzzling into you like a clingy pup.

“i love you, i love you, i love you…” he kept whispering between little kisses. one of his hands gently stroked your hair while the other rubbed circles on your waist. “let’s just forget about the timeout and never do that to me again, okay? i’ll actually go insane.”

you let out a weak, tired laugh, still dazed, but couldn’t help threading your fingers through his messy, sweaty hair.

sunghoon smiled against your cheek, giving you one last long, soft kiss before sighing.

“you’re all mine.”