#hongjoongxreader

You nodded, head down, still blushing. You couldn't help it with bare chest staring right at you.

He lets go of your hand to brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, the traced down along your jawline to your chin with the back of his finger. He lift your head up so that your eyes would meet his.

"See anything you like? Tell me and it's yours." He said softly, tone full of adoration for you.

You couldn't answer. His beauty was too stunning and just the way he looked at you alone had you melting. You did want something though.

You wanted him.

He sees it in your eyes. Lifting a brow, he lets out a chuckle.

"It's alright, my Love, you don't need to say a word," he leans in closer to your ear, palm now resting at the top of your head. "I know exactly what you want." His tone was darker now, deeper. It sent a shiver straight to your core.

He gently pushes your head down, guiding you to your knees and you didn't resist.

Your hand found its way to his bulge, he was already getting hard for you. That was something you were always proud of, the way he easily got hard just for you, just at the sight of you. You palmed him for a bit before leaning forward to nuzzle him, his scent intoxicating you.

His fingers gently brushed through your hair.

"You look so pretty like this, my pretty baby."

You look up, eyes glazed over with lust for him. You loved it, loved when he gave you pretty pet names and praised you. It made you wet. Made you want to please him just so you can hear more praises.

Reaching for the button on his dress pants, undoing it along with the zipper. You tugged on his pants and underwear just enough be able to pull his cock out.

You subconsciously swiped your tongue over your lips at the sight of it. Wrapping your fingers around it, feeling his hot and heavy cock against your palm.

"This is what you wanted right, baby?" Looking up at him, you nod.

"Yes, please?"

A breathy chuckle escapes his chest. The way you begged, the way you looked at him, pleading with your eyes. His cock twitched in your hand.

"You don't even have to ask, baby. Anything my princess wants, my princess will get."

Your cute little smile makes him falter a little.

God, you were always so cute. He swore you'd be the death of him one day.

So you drag your tongue along his shaft, swirling it at the tip. He always tasted like he was meant to be tasted by you and you only. Latching your lips around him you began so suck, moving your head in a steady rhythm back and forth. You always loved how he felt inside your mouth.

You let out a hum, making him hiss.

"Fuck, I love how good your mouth feels around me." His grip on your hair only made you moan against him, making him groan in return.

You wanted him to fuck your throat. You needed it.

You slip a hand between your thighs and underneath the dress, slipping it into your panties. Your gaze moves up to meet his as you began to touch yourself.

He saw what you were doing and it always drove him crazy. How turned on, how wet you would get just from sucking him off.

The your other hand moves to grip on his thigh and you stop moving your head, giving his thigh a squeeze.

He knew exactly what you wanted.

"Does my princess want her throat fucked until she cries?"

With a whimper, you nod.

And so he gives you what you want, staying true to his word. His grip tightens on your hair and he pushes his hips forward, slowly and carefully filling your throat. He paused for a moment, allowing for your throat to adjust while you continued to play with yourself.

He didn't make you wait too long though. His hips began to move in a slow pace, a low groan escaping from him.

And God, did you love how he sounded.

Your little whimpers, and not to mention the way you squirmed from touching yourself, encouraged him to pick up the pace.

Drool was dripping past your lips and tears were falling from your eyes. You mentally thanked yourself for using waterproof eyeliner, you didn't want it messed up for his big day after all.

You could tell he was close now, with the way his hips stuttered. But you knew exactly why he didn't let himself come yet.

"Come on princess, make yourself cum for me," his breath was heavy with need. "I wanna taste it off your fingers after."

And who were you to deprive him of that?

So you finally let yourself cum, your body shaking underneath him, your moans muffled by his cock in your throat.

"Good Girl."

Bucking his hips forward, burying his cock deep in your throat, he held your head in place, releasing his sweet sweet sperm down your throat. And you swallowed every last bit of it.

He pulled out of your throat and tuck himself away before joining you on the floor, pulling you into his arms.

"My sweet girl, are you happy? Did I give you what you wanted?" His voice was soft, comforting. You nodded as he swiped away your tears with his thumb before taking your hand that was still sitting in your panties, and brought it up.

His took your fingers between his lips, sucking on them. He let out a hum as he tasted you.

"You always taste so sweet for me..."

He glanced up at the clock on the wall then back down at you.

"We still have some time." He smirked.

"Wait, baby-" you gasped as he pushed you down on your back and positioned himself between your legs. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing a kiss to your core.

In your career, you only had three rules.

Never get personal at work.

Never show your emotions.

Never lose your temper in front of clients.

And you were about to break two of them right now.

The Seoul Tech Summit was the kind of event that could change your career—or ruin it. Hundreds of CEOs, investors, and innovators packed the sleek glass convention hall. The hum of conversation mixed with the sharp click of heels on polished floors, and the buzz of gadgets being demoed. The scent of expensive suits and the cool sharpness of designer colognes filled the air.

But for you, it was just another battleground.

NovaTech had recently made waves with an AI-driven healthcare app, and you were here to show the world you were only getting started. You weren’t interested in the flashy panels or the eager investors. You were only here to build something real, something that mattered.

Midway through your third glass of overpriced sparkling water, someone caught your attention.

Kim Hongjoong.

You didn’t need the introduction. The buzz around the room made sure that no one ever forgot his face. He was younger than most of the tech giants You were used to seeing, with the kind of good looks that made photographers swoon. His jaw was sharp, eyes dark but calculating. He exuded that cocky, effortless charisma that came naturally when your company was worth billions. His presence seemed to fill the room like smoke, dangerous and inescapable.

He approached your table with that smile—the one that always looked like he knew something you didn’t. And it made your stomach tighten. Not in admiration, but in the challenge it presented. You weren’t going to be another notch on his belt, another “up-and-coming” company he could buy out and brand as his own.

You didn’t even look up when he sat across from you, just set down the folder he’d been holding with a soft thud.

“We should talk,” he said, his voice smooth like velvet, the kind that made you feel like he’d won before he even started.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him immediately. You kept your eyes on the small holographic display of NovaTech’s upcoming product—your flagship, and your pride and joy.

“You know, I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors about you,” you said, finally glancing up. His face hadn’t shifted, still that same confident, unfazed expression. You didn’t like how easily he could remain unruffled.

He leaned back in his chair, like he was settling in for a long conversation. “I’m sure you have.”

“You’re quite the… businessman,” You said with a thin smile. “I hear Cortex is already planning on buying out half the competition in the next year.”

His eyes flickered, just for a moment, but his smile didn’t waver. “I don’t buy out competition, Y/n. I partner with them. It’s far more profitable.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “I’m not interested in being a partner. I don’t need someone to hold my hand while I create something meaningful.”

“I don’t see it as holding your hand,” he said, voice lowering just a fraction. “I see it as giving you the resources to make your vision a reality.”

You wanted to snap back at him, to tell him you didn’t need Cortex’s resources, that you could make NovaTech a household name on your own. But there was something in his eyes that made me hesitate. A quiet certainty that suggested he wasn’t just offering to buy you out, but that he genuinely thought you needed his help.

But you weren’t here to get by on handouts. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small.

“So, what? You came all the way here just to hand me a proposal?” You kept your voice cool, trying to hide the twinge of frustration threatening to slip out.

That’s not my offer,” he said. “I’m proposing a partnership. Cortex has the scale, the infrastructure—”

“And I have the ideas,” You cut in, leveling your gaze at him. “The ones you’ve been ‘coincidentally’ mirroring in your last two product launches?”

He didn’t flinch. “Great minds think alike.”

“No,” You said coolly. “Lazy minds steal from better ones.”

“You think I’m just going to sit here and let you convince me to throw everything I’ve worked for into the hands of a corporate giant?” You asked, your voice colder now. You could feel your pulse quickening, anger bubbling under your skin.

He didn’t flinch. “I think you’re smart enough to recognize opportunity when it’s in front of you.”

You almost laughed. “You don’t know anything about me, Hongjoong. You just know how to turn every situation into a business deal.”

“And you know how to turn every situation into a battlefield,” he countered, leaning forward slightly, his eyes locked onto mine. There was something dangerous there—an undercurrent of challenge, like he was daring me to admit the truth.

Your chest tightened. You weren’t repared for this—his quiet intensity, the way he could get under your skin without even trying.

“I’m not interested in being your next conquest,” You said, your voice sharp.

“I’m not trying to conquer you,” he said, his voice steady, yet something in the way he said it made my heart skip a beat. “I’m trying to build with you.”

Something shifted in that moment. You don’t know if it was the confidence in his words or the raw honesty that seemed to slip out unbidden, but you felt it. A small shift. The first crack in the wall you had so carefully built around myself.

He was a threat. But you couldn’t deny that there was something in the way he spoke that made you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t the enemy you had built him up to be.

The thought lingered for a moment longer than you cared to admit.

You didn’t take the folder. You didn’t say anything more. Instead, you stood up, lifting your glass of sparkling water like it was the weapon of your choice, and walked to the edge of the conference room, where the floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of Seoul’s skyline. The city looked untouchable from up here, so far beyond the petty squabbles of tech moguls and startups.

But maybe that was the problem.

You could feel Hongjoong’s eyes on you as you stood there, the noise of the summit still buzzing around us. You could almost hear the gears in his head turning—he was calculating something, trying to figure you out, just like you were.

“You’re not going to make it easy for me, are you?” he asked, his voice carrying just enough humor to tell me he wasn’t backing down.

You didn’t turn to face him. “You didn’t come here for an easy ride. If you want someone to roll over and hand over their ideas, you’ve got the wrong person.”

He was quiet for a beat, and you finally glanced back at him. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He didn’t look like he was about to leave. He looked… pleased.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I think that’s why I’m here.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Means I like a challenge,” he replied, his tone smooth as silk. “And I think you’re worth it.”

You clenched your jaw. The nerve of him. He was infuriating. Everything about him screamed privilege and control, and yet, there was something that kept pulling you in, something that made you wonder if he wasn’t just another slick businessman trying to manipulate you.

But you refused to admit that you were intrigued. You couldn’t afford to be.

“Save the flattery, Hongjoong,” you said, turning back toward the skyline. “I’m not interested in your games.”

“I’m not playing games,” he said, standing up and walking closer, his footsteps light but purposeful. “I’m offering you an opportunity. An opportunity for both of us to build something bigger than what we could do on our own. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

You felt a spike of irritation. “I don’t need your opportunity.”

He was standing right behind you now, just close enough that you could feel his presence without him actually touching you. Your pulse quickened despite your best efforts to remain unaffected.

“Funny,” he said, his voice low. “You’re the one who came here to talk business. You’re the one who’s been gunning for the top spot for years. But now that someone offers you the chance to make it happen, you’d rather go it alone.”

“I’m not desperate,” you shot back, my voice a little sharper than you intended. “I’ve built my company from the ground up without anyone’s help.”

“I know,” he said, the tone of admiration in his voice making you feel unexpectedly exposed. “But you don’t have to do it all alone. You don’t have to fight every battle by yourself.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. You weren’t used to letting anyone close, certainly not anyone who could undermine you so easily. But there was something in his voice—a genuine understanding, maybe—that made you hesitate.

And then, just like that, the moment was gone. Hongjoong took a step back, and you could finally breathe again, though your chest still felt tight.

“You’ll think about it,” he said casually, like he wasn’t leaving until you did.

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you focused on the skyline again, trying to regain your composure. You hated how he’d gotten under your skin so easily, hated how much you were thinking about him already.

“You’re stubborn,” he added, as if reading your thoughts. “I’ll give you that.”

“I don’t need you to give me anything,” you said coolly, finally turning to face him fully.

Hongjoong smiled, the same confident, cocky smile that had started it all. “We’ll see about that.”

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

The following weeks passed in a blur of conference calls, strategy meetings, and press conferences. But no matter how much you buried yourself in the work, your thoughts kept circling back to Hongjoong. To his challenge, to his words, to the way he seemed to understand you in a way no one else did.

You tried to push him out of your mind. You even threw yourself into a new project—one that you knew would help NovaTech leap ahead in the AI space, just to prove that you didn’t need a partnership. But no matter how hard you tried, you you couldn't escape the fact that Hongjoong was everywhere. His company’s launches, his social media, even the headlines about his “disruptive” new product—it all felt like a constant reminder of the one thing you didn’t want to admit.

You were drawn to him.

But you couldn’t let him know that. Not yet. Not until you could figure out what game you were really playing.

Then came the leak.

It wasn’t a surprise that the breach had happened. In the world we lived in, data was as valuable as gold, and just as easy to steal. But the timing was disastrous. The confidential code from both NovaTech and Cortex had been released to the public, and suddenly, everything you’ve worked for felt up for grabs. Investors were skittish. Consumers were confused. And our internal teams were scrambling to contain the fallout.

Hongjoong and you were forced into a partnership of sorts—at least on the surface. You began meeting daily, trying to trace the leak, patch up security flaws, and salvage your reputations before this could become a full-blown scandal.

You hated every second of it. And yet, you couldn’t help but be impressed by the way Hongjoong handled it. He wasn’t just the golden boy; he was smart. Strategic. Calculating. It was no wonder his company had grown so rapidly. He wasn’t just a businessman. He was a force.

The nights started blurring together. Long hours at the office. Even longer hours on video calls, trying to get ahead of the damage. But somehow, through it all, you found yourself slipping into a rhythm with him—unexpectedly in sync. And though you didn’t talk about it, there were moments. Small ones. The kind where you caught him glancing at you for a second too long. Or when you finished each other’s sentences, both your thoughts moving faster than your words could keep up.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he showed up at your office one no night, unannounced, with two cups of coffee.

“You look like you haven’t slept in days,” he said, setting one cup down on your desk and looking at you with something akin to concern.

You shot him a glare. “It’s called working.”

He didn’t back down. “We’re in this together, Y/n. We always have been.”

And for a moment, you let the words settle. You let yourself wonder if it was true. If maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the enemy you had thought him to be.

He wasn’t the kind of person to simply check in. He was there—always—hovering around in the periphery of your life, offering support where it was needed and pushing forward relentlessly. And no matter how much you told yourself that he was still the enemy, still the corporate shark circling NovaTech for a way in, you couldn’t help but notice the way he showed up. How he always had your back in the most unexpected ways.

But soon, it all came crashing down.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

It was the night of the Tech Gala—the grand event that both NovaTech and Cortex were headlining. After weeks of crisis management, everyone needed this gala to be perfect. The media, the investors, the analysts—all of them were watching. This was supposed to be the night where we showed the world that we were still in control, that we could handle the storm. But as soon as you walked into the event, you felt the weight of the pressure pressing down on you.

You hadn’t seen Hongjoong all night. And honestly, you hadn’t expected to. Not after the frantic energy of the past few days, where bothe your focuses had been on nothing but damage control.

But when you stepped onto the stage for the evening’s presentation, there he was, standing near the back of the room. His gaze locked onto yours from across the crowded floor, and for a moment, the noise, the flashing cameras, everything seemed to fade away. The connection was instant—impossible to ignore. It was the way his dark eyes fixed on you, intense and unwavering.

You swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus. You couldn’t afford to get distracted—not tonight.

But you couldn’t help it.

As you spoke to the crowd, explaining the new direction for NovaTech, your thoughts kept wandering back to Hongjoong. You were painfully aware of his presence, like a shadow that followed you wherever you went. And when you glanced back over my shoulder after the presentation, there he was, still watching. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way he looked at you — something deep that made your heart race.

The gala continued long into the evening, and as the night wore on, you found yourself mingling with investors, team members, and other industry leaders. But every time you passed through the crowd, your gaze inevitably flickered to Hongjoong. He wasn’t far, but he was always keeping his distance. Observing.

Finally, as the clock struck midnight, and the energy in the room started to shift, you spotted him again, this time standing near a secluded balcony, looking out over the city. The cool night air brushed against my skin, and without even thinking, you found yourself walking toward him.

When he saw you approaching, he didn’t smile. He didn’t even move. He simply waited.

“Having a quiet moment?” you asked, your voice a little more biting than you’d intended.

He turned toward you, eyes locking onto yours with that unnerving intensity. “Just getting some air. The spotlight’s never been my thing.”

You glanced around at the crowd below, feeling the weight of the attention. “You and me both,” you muttered, leaning against the balcony railing beside him.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the city’s hum below you filling the silence. You could feel the tension, thick and palpable. But tonight, there was something different in the air. It wasn’t the usual rivalry. There was an understanding—an unspoken agreement that the past few weeks had altered something fundamental between you. And yet, you still wasn’t sure what it was.

“Do you think we’re ever going to be able to fix this mess?” you asked, not looking at him, your voice softening despite yourself .

“We will,” he said, his tone surprisingly calm. “We always do.”

You finally turned to look at him. His jaw was tight, his eyes dark with determination, but there was something else there. It wasn’t just business anymore. It wasn’t just the endless string of meetings and calls. There was an earnestness in his gaze, like he wasn’t just trying to make things work for the sake of the companies anymore.

It was personal.

“I think… I think we’ve already started something. Whether we like it or not.” he said quietly.

You weren’t sure what he meant by that, but the weight of his words hung in the air. For a moment, you weresilent, contemplating the implications of what he was saying.

“Hongjoong…” you started, but you weren’t sure how to continue. What were you supposed to say? That you couldn’t stop thinking about him? That you hated how much you wanted this to work?

Before you could find the words, he stepped closer.

His presence enveloped you, his warmth undeniable as he stood inches away, the faint scent of his cologne almost intoxicating. His eyes softened just a fraction. And for the first time in a long time, you felt the breath leave your lungs, the air thick with something other than competition.

“Maybe it’s time we stopped pretending we’re just business partners,” he murmured, his voice low, intimate.

And that was it. The walls I had spent so long building up shattered in that instant, crumbling beneath the weight of his gaze. All the tension, all the anger, all the denial—it all melted away.

Without thinking, you reached for him, your hand brushing against his arm. It wasn’t a grand confession. It wasn’t a dramatic moment. But it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you standing on that balcony, with the city lights twinkling below you.

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

He reached up, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin with the kind of tenderness you hadn’t expected from him. “I know. Me too.”

And then, without another word, he leaned in.

The kiss was slow, almost hesitant at first. But it didn’t take long before the floodgates opened, and the kiss deepened, taking you both by surprise. The emotions you had buried for so long rushed to the surface—frustration, fear, and the undeniable pull between you two.

For the first time in weeks, you weren’t worried about the next crisis. You weren’t thinking about Cortex or NovaTech or any of the lies you had told yourself. You were just here, in this moment, with him.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, Hongjoong’s smile was softer than you had ever seen it. “I think we might have just started something even bigger than what we planned.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a strange sense of peace wash over you.

“Maybe,” you said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I think we can handle it.”

And for once in your whole entire career, you were glad that you broke all three rules.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Hongjoong didn’t even look up from his own phone, though his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He remained unnervingly calm. "She's mad because I forgot that specific, limited-edition book she asked me to pick up in London. I know I heard her, and I know she reminded me about a dozen times, but it completely slipped my mind in the chaos of the airport."

Seonghwa sighed, shaking his head. "She's been talking about that book for weeks. You know how she gets when you forget something important, especially when she’s been looking forward to it."

From the kitchen, the sounds of your anger escalated. You were aggressively preparing a cup of coffee, the metal spoon clinking violently against the ceramic mug. You marched back out, clutching the steaming cup, and slammed it down onto the coffee table with a thud, hot liquid sloshing over the rim. You didn’t say a word, but your eyes locked onto Hongjoong’s with a fierce, burning intensity. You glared at him, your chest heaving slightly, before you turned on your heel and stomped back down the hallway, leaving the two men in a deafening silence.

Seonghwa watched you go, his expression shifting from concern to pure bewilderment. He leaned closer to Hongjoong, keeping his voice strictly hushed. "Are you going to do something about this? She looks ready to burn the place down. How are you planning to fix it?"

Hongjoong finally looked up, offering a casual, almost smug shrug of his shoulders. "I already ordered it online yesterday. It’s supposed to arrive by courier tomorrow morning."

Seonghwa blinked, surprised. "Wait, so you fixed it? Did you tell her? Does she know it’s coming?"

Hongjoong shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the doorway where you had vanished. "Not yet."

"Why not?" Seonghwa pressed, genuinely baffled by his leader's strategy. "Why let her stay this mad if you already solved the problem?"

Hongjoong didn't get the chance to answer. You stormed past them again, your coffee cup now empty, headed back toward the bedroom. You didn't acknowledge them, but your icy demeanor remained firmly in place, sending a clear message that the grudge was very much active.

Once you had rounded the corner and the sound of your bedroom door slamming shut echoed through the hallway, Hongjoong finally relaxed his posture. A slow, mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he turned his attention back to his bandmate. He leaned back into the cushions, looking far too pleased for a man currently in the doghouse.

"You really don't get it, do you, Hwa?" Hongjoong murmured, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and genuine affection. He sighed softly, shaking his head as if he were letting Seonghwa in on a secret. "She is just incredibly hot when she’s mad like that. I honestly wouldn't mind letting her stay angry for a little while longer."

Seonghwa

The front door clicked open, and the sound of your heels clicking against the entryway floor was the signal Seonghwa had been dreading for the last hour. He sat on the edge of the sofa, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He had tried to be helpful, really, he had. You had left your favorite silk dress in the washer, and he thought he’d save you the trouble by moving it to the dryer before you got home.

Except, in his haste, he hadn’t checked the label. He’d cranked the heat up high, and by the time he realized his mistake, the damage was already done.

You walked into the living room, your face softening the moment you saw him. You leaned down, pressing a sweet, unsuspecting kiss to his cheek. "Hey, baby," you chirped, your voice bright. "Did you manage to pull my dress out of the dryer? I’m hoping to wear it tonight for dinner."

Seonghwa felt the blood drain from his face. He forced a smile that felt more like a grimace and nodded slowly. "Yeah. It's... it’s out."

"You're a lifesaver," you said, beaming at him before turning toward the laundry room.

Seonghwa held his breath, bracing himself. He didn't have to wait long. A sharp, guttural scream erupted from the back of the house, followed by the distinct sound of a hanger clattering against the wall. He flinched, his shoulders hunching up toward his ears.

A moment later, you stormed back into the living room, a crumpled, shrunken piece of fabric held aloft in your grip like a crime scene piece of evidence. You looked like you were vibrating with fury.

"Explain this," you demanded, your voice trembling with rage as you thrust the mangled dress toward his face. "Seonghwa, please, just tell me how this happened."

He stood up slowly, keeping his hands raised in a placating gesture. "I... I wasn't as attentive as I should have been. I’m so sorry, I didn't think about the fabric type—"

"You didn't think?" You cut him off, your voice rising into a sharp, incredulous shout. "This is my absolute favorite dress! I told you specifically how much I love this, and now it’s ruined. It looks like a doll's outfit! How could you be so careless?"

You continued to rant, your arms gesturing wildly. As you paced in front of him, letting out your frustration, Seonghwa found himself momentarily distracted. He watched the way your cheeks flushed a deep, vibrant red, contrasting beautifully with the fire in your eyes. He noticed the way your chest rose and fell rapidly, your breathing ragged from the intensity of your anger. A strange, undeniable spark flared in his chest; there was something undeniably captivating about the way you held your ground, completely unafraid to let him have it.

A small, genuine smile—completely involuntary—began to spread across his lips.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes narrowing into slits. "Are you... are you seriously laughing at me right now?"

The smirk vanished instantly. Seonghwa’s expression turned deathly serious, though the ghost of that smile still tugged at the corners of his mouth. "No. No, I’m not laughing. I’m very sorry, I—"

His mouth twitched. He bit down on his lower lip hard, trying to force his face back into a mask of contrition, but the amusement was still dancing in his eyes.

You stared at him in utter disbelief, your mouth agape. "You are laughing! You think this is funny?"

Without another word, you balled up the ruined silk and threw it at his chest. It hit him softly, sliding down his torso before landing on the floor. You turned on your heel, your hair whipping around with the force of your movement, and stormed off toward the bedroom. The door slammed behind you with a finality that made the floorboards vibrate.

Seonghwa stood alone in the quiet living room. He slowly reached down and picked up the shrunken dress, the fabric still warm from the machine. He watched the hallway where you had disappeared, his thumb absentmindedly tracing the edge of the ruined hem. He bit his lip again, a soft, breathless laugh finally escaping him.

"Well," he whispered to the empty room, his eyes dark with a mix of guilt and lingering admiration. "I certainly didn't expect that."

Yunho

The late afternoon sun was streaming through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the living room, but the atmosphere inside felt anything but warm. You stood in the center of the room, blinking against the light, your head throbbing with the disorienting, heavy fog of a two-hour nap.

"I told you," you snapped, your voice rough with sleep and sharpened by genuine irritation. "I specifically asked for thirty minutes, Yunho. Just thirty! And now look at the time. It’s nearly sunset. Do you have any idea how hard it’s going to be for me to fall asleep tonight?"

Yunho sat on the edge of the sofa, looking up at you with a sheepish expression. He looked genuinely guilty, though his explanation sounded flimsy at best. "I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I honestly didn't mean to lose track of time. It’s just... that episode of Kitchen Nightmares was so intense! Gordon Ramsay was tearing into that chef, and I got so sucked into the drama that I completely forgot to check the clock."

"I don't care about the kitchen, or the drama, or the chef!" you whined, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "I’m going to be a complete zombie tomorrow. I have that meeting, and now I’m going to be dragging myself around like a wreck because you couldn't be bothered to set an alarm."

You let out a frustrated huff, pacing back and forth before stopping to rake your fingers through your messy, sleep-tousled hair. You sighed deeply, a sound of pure, unadulterated annoyance.

Yunho’s expression shifted. As he watched you—the way your hair fell wildly around your face, the sound of your frustrated whines, and the way your body language radiated such raw, unfiltered fire—his guilt began to be overshadowed by a different, much more potent feeling. He leaned back, tilting his head to the side, his eyes darkening as he took you in. He didn't just look at you; he studied you, his gaze dragging slowly from your head to your toes, lingering on your flushed, tired face.

You caught him in the act. The way his focus shifted made your skin prickle, though not entirely from anger this time. "Don't look at me like that," you muttered, narrowing your eyes. "It’s your fault I look like this, so you don't get to stand there and look at me like I’m some kind of entertainment."

Yunho let out a low, melodic chuckle that vibrated in the small space between you. He stood up, towering over you, and closed the distance. "I’m not looking at you like that because you're tired," he said, his voice dropping into a teasing, husky register. "I’m looking at you because, even when you're fuming and sleep-deprived, you look absolutely gorgeous."

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel your cheeks heating up for a different reason now. "Oh, stop it. I’m serious, Yunho. I am really, really mad at you. You ruined my sleep schedule."

He didn't back down. Instead, he reached out, pouting his lower lip in a mock-apologetic way that made your heart skip a beat despite your best efforts to stay firm. He leaned in, pressing a lingering, soft kiss to your cheek before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, and whispered, "If you're worried about not being tired enough to sleep... I might have a few ideas on how we can burn off that extra energy."

You groaned, the sound caught somewhere between a protest and a surrender. You pushed against his chest, trying to maintain some space, though his grip remained firm. "You are disgusting," you muttered, though the bite in your tone had long since vanished.

Yunho just chuckled, pulling you closer, his eyes dancing with mischief as he waited to see if you would finally give in.

Yeosang

The kitchen counter was already a disaster zone of flour, mixing bowls, and half-opened ingredient packets. You had been waiting for Yeosang to return from the grocery store for the better part of an hour, and the moment the front door clicked shut, you were at his side, eager to finish the birthday cake for your friend.

Yeosang set the bags on the island, his movements a little more deliberate than usual. You started pulling out the items, checking them off your mental list, until your hand hit the bottom of the bag. You rummaged through, moving aside the sugar and the food coloring, but your heart sank.

"Yeosang? Where’s the black fondant?" you asked, looking up at him.

He hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the window before settling on your face. "The store was out of it," he said, his voice a little too smooth, a little too rehearsed.

You squinted at him, narrowing your eyes. You knew that tone; you knew that slight tilt of his head. "You’re lying."

Yeosang sighed, his shoulders slumping as he realized the jig was up. "Okay, fine. There was only one package left on the shelf. But this elderly lady reached for it at the same time, and she seemed so sweet—she told me it was for her nephew’s birthday—so I just… I couldn't be rude. I let her have it."

You stared at him in utter disbelief, your jaw dropping slightly. "Are you kidding me? Yeosang, have you lost your mind? We need that for the decorations! You’re the one baking with me, you know this!"

"She was really sweet, though," he protested, trying to defend his soft heart. "She even showed me a picture of the boy—"

"She was probably lying to trick you!" you snapped, your frustration finally boiling over. You started pacing the small kitchen floor. "Yeosang, you are constantly too nice to everyone. You let people walk all over you, and then you get tricked every single time. It’s exhausting! You have to start learning how to speak up, how to say no, and how to look out for yourself instead of being the neighborhood saint."

Yeosang frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to defend his nature. "It’s not like I get tricked all the time—"

"You absolutely do!" you interrupted, huffing as you grabbed a bowl and shoved it toward the sink. "Now I have to improvise, and the cake isn't going to look like anything I planned. Everything is ruined because you couldn't tell a little old lady 'no'."

You went on a tear, lecturing him with a level of passion and confidence that made the air in the room feel heavy. You pointed a flour-dusted finger at him, listing every instance where his kindness had backfired, your eyes flashing with annoyance.

But as he watched you, Yeosang’s defensiveness began to melt away. He stood perfectly still, his eyes locked onto your face. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way you stood your ground, the way your voice took on that commanding, authoritative edge. The sheer intensity of your lecture, the way your hair was slightly disheveled and your cheeks were flushed with irritation—it was doing something to his pulse. He found himself mesmerized by the way your mind worked, by how tough and unyielding you were in this moment.

"You're right," he said quietly, his voice dropping an octave. "I really should listen to you."

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden compliance. "I—yes, you should. Because I’m usually right about these things."

"You are," he agreed, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "You’re so smart. And tough. It’s… actually pretty attractive."

You frowned, your hand still hovering over the counter. "Stop that. Don't try to compliment me just to get out of trouble when I’m mad at you."

Yeosang chuckled, a low, smooth sound that only served to frustrate you more. He stepped into your personal space, his gaze intensifying. "I can't help it. You look so good when you’re lecturing me like that."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't stop the heat rising to your cheeks. You shoved a bag of flour into his chest. "Move your ass and stop flirting. If you ruined my plans, you’re going to help me fix this mess."

He caught the bag, his smirk widening as he stepped up to the counter. "Yes, ma'am."

San

The notification sound on your phone was becoming the soundtrack to your frustration. Ding. Another shirtless gym selfie from San on his story, captioned with a casual, lazy emoji. It was the third one today.

When he finally sauntered into the living room, still looking far too fresh after his workout, you were already pacing. You didn't even look at him as you tossed your phone onto the sofa.

"Another one, San?" you snapped, your voice tight. "Do you really need to show the entire world your abs every single time you step into the gym? It’s relentless."

San paused, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel before tossing it aside. He looked entirely unbothered, even slightly amused. "It’s just fanservice, babe. It’s part of the job. It really doesn't mean anything to me."

You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. Your lip jutted out in a stubborn pout. "It means something to them! I feel like I have to share you with thousands of people every single day. I see the comments, I see the edits... it doesn’t help my mood, San."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, and took a step toward you. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. "You know you’re the only one who actually gets to touch me, right? Everyone else is just looking at a screen. You’re the one who gets the real thing."

You shoved his shoulder, though your heart wasn't really in the violence of the push. "That doesn't make it any better! It’s not just the pictures. Even when we go out, I see the way girls look at you. It’s constant, and it pisses me off. It’s like I’m constantly on guard, defending my territory."

San’s eyes glinted with a dangerous, playful spark. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing, velvety whisper. "If you’re worried about territory, why don’t you just lick me in public? That would certainly send a message."

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. "You are not funny. That is not a suggestion, that is a nightmare."

"I’m just trying to offer solutions," he said, though the smirk playing on his lips betrayed his sincerity.

"Stop smirking like that!" you shouted, your frustration bubbling over. "I am trying to have a serious conversation about my boundaries and my feelings, and you’re acting like this is a game."

He did stop, his expression smoothing out, but that smug glint remained in his eyes. He seemed genuinely flustered, perhaps even a bit excited by the sight of you so worked up. "I am taking it seriously. But you have to admit, seeing you get this jealous over me... it’s not exactly easy to stay stoic."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you muttered, brushing past him with a huff. The tension in your shoulders was unbearable, and you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get away from his infuriatingly calm demeanor. "I’m going to shower. And stay out of there, unless you want me to bite your head off."

You marched toward the bathroom, your heels clicking sharply against the tile. You were already reaching for the door handle when you heard his footsteps trailing right behind you.

"Why don't I just join you?" he asked, his voice now thick with that familiar, predatory playfulness.

You spun around, glaring at him with every ounce of willpower you had left. "Are you deaf? I told you I’m still very mad at you!"

San didn't look deterred in the slightest. He leaned against the doorframe, a low, frustrated groan rumbling in his chest as he took in your flushed, angry face. A hungry, intense look took over his features, and he gave you a slow, deliberate nod.

"Even better," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous, promise-filled rasp.

Mingi

The walk from the front door to the living room was marked by the rhythmic, squelching sound of your soaked shoes against the floorboards. You were shivering, your hair plastered to your neck in dark, heavy strands, and every muscle in your body felt tight with cold and irritation. Mingi was trailing behind you, his hands hovering uselessly at his sides as he tried to find the words to mitigate the disaster.

You didn’t give him the chance. With a sharp, aggressive movement, you peeled off your sodden jacket. It was heavy with rainwater, and you didn't hesitate to toss it directly at his chest. It landed with a wet thud against him, and he caught it instinctively, his expression crumpled with guilt.

"Fifteen minutes, Mingi," you snapped, your voice shaking slightly, though not just from the chill. "Fifteen minutes I spent standing on that platform in the pouring rain. I was freezing, I was miserable, and I had no idea if you were even coming."

Mingi shifted, looking down at his boots before meeting your eyes. "I know, I’m so sorry. I swear, it wasn't on purpose. We were working on the bridge for the new choreography, and I just—I got so distracted, I lost track of everything. I didn't even realize how much time had passed until I looked at my phone and saw your missed calls."

"I don't care about the choreography!" you shouted, gesturing wildly to the water dripping from your hair. "I care that I’m standing here soaking wet and shivering because you couldn't be bothered to set a simple alarm."

You looked down, your eyes widening as the reality of your state finally hit you. Your thin white blouse was completely saturated, clinging to your skin like a second layer and becoming entirely transparent. You felt humiliated and exposed, the cold air hitting your skin through the wet fabric. You looked up at Mingi, your eyes blazing.

"Look at me," you commanded, gesturing to your drenched form. "Do you see this? I look like I just stepped out of a wet t-shirt contest. I am humiliated, I’m freezing, and it is entirely your fault."

Mingi’s eyes dropped from your face, trailing slowly down your torso. His breath hitched, and his entire demeanor shifted. The guilt in his eyes was rapidly being replaced by a dark, intense heat. His gaze was heavy, lingering on every curve that the water had so blatantly revealed. He didn't even try to hide it; he stood there, watching you with an intensity that made the room feel suddenly smaller and much, much warmer. He let out a low, involuntary groan, his hands tightening around the wet jacket he was still holding.

Your face twisted in disgust as you realized exactly where his focus had landed. "Pervert," you hissed.

You grabbed the decorative pillow from the armchair and hurled it at him with all your remaining strength. It struck him square in the chest, but he barely seemed to notice. "You’re a pig, Mingi!"

You didn't wait for him to try and justify his staring. You stormed past him, your shoulder clipping his as you marched toward your bedroom. The cold water was still dripping onto the floor, but you were far more concerned with getting out of these clothes and putting as much distance as possible between you and his lecherous gaze.

"Hey," Mingi called out, his voice deeper than usual, laced with a mix of genuine worry and something much more primal. "Do you… do you need help getting out of those? I can get you a towel, or—"

His offer was cut short by the sound of your bedroom door slamming with enough force to make the pictures on the walls vibrate. You left him standing there in the middle of your living room, the damp jacket still clutched in his grip, staring at the shut door with a look of lingering, frustrated desire.

Wooyoung

The morning light filtered into the apartment, but it did nothing to brighten your mood. You had spent the better part of the night staring at the ceiling, listening to the muffled shouts and aggressive button-mashing coming from the living room as Wooyoung played games with his friends until the early hours of the morning.

When he finally emerged, looking perfectly rested and infuriatingly cheerful, you didn't hold back. You confronted him immediately, and while he offered a quick, superficial apology, his tone was dismissive. When you pushed back, his defensive wall went up, and his demeanor shifted into something sharp and combative.

"You’re always doing this," you snapped, your patience worn thin. "It’s like living with a toddler who has no concept of boundaries or volume. You act like such a brat, Wooyoung, and I am over it."

He rolled his eyes so far back into his head they nearly disappeared.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me," you warned, your voice dropping into a dangerous, low register. You turned your back on him to walk toward the kitchen, your irritation still fueling your stream of consciousness. "Honestly, the lack of respect is just unbelievable. I told you I had an early morning, but apparently, your win-loss ratio in a game is more important than your girlfriend being able to function like a human being. It’s pathetic, really."

As you ranted, you didn't see his face, but you could hear the smirk in his voice as he began to mimic your movements, pulling a ridiculous, mocking face behind your back. He contorted his features, widening his eyes and pursing his lips in a silent, taunting imitation of you.

You stopped in your tracks, glancing at the hallway mirror in front of you. You saw the entire performance reflected perfectly.

You spun around, your eyes flashing. "There is a fucking mirror right in front of me, you idiot! I can see exactly what you're doing."

Wooyoung froze, his mouth hanging open for a fraction of a second before he simply said, "Oh."

You marched back toward him, invading his personal space until he was backed against the wall. "Let me be crystal clear, Wooyoung. Do not mess with my sleep schedule again. If you think I’m annoying now, just wait. If I don't get my rest, I will become your absolute worst nightmare. You have no idea what I’m capable of when I’m exhausted and irritable."

Instead of looking intimidated, a slow, predatory smirk crept across his face. He looked you up and down, his eyes dark with amusement. "You know... I really like it when you’re angry like this."

You bristled, your chest heaving with indignation. "Keep acting like this, and I promise you, I’m going to get even angrier. I’m not playing, Wooyoung."

He nodded, leaning in slightly as if encouraging you to continue. "It’s actually very hot, you know. When you get all bossy and start making threats? It’s a great look on you."

You stared at him in utter disgust, your face heating up with a mix of genuine rage and disbelief. "You are twisted. Seriously, something is wrong with you. Keep pushing me, and I swear, I’m going to suffocate you with a pillow tonight while you’re sleeping."

Wooyoung’s expression brightened, and his smile became wide and blindingly genuine. He didn't even blink at the threat; instead, he laughed, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "Is that right? Well, I’m all in for new kinks, babe. Whenever you’re ready."

Jongho

The front door clicked shut behind you, sealing out the noise of the city, but it did nothing to quiet the storm raging inside your chest. You tossed your purse onto the entryway table with a resounding thud, still vibrating with the remnants of the argument you’d just had at the bakery.

"I still can’t believe her," you muttered, pacing the small hallway. "She had the audacity to push right in front of me like I didn't exist! And then she had the nerve to act like I was the one being difficult when I called her out. It was infuriating, Jongho!"

Jongho simply stood by the door, hanging up his coat with his usual, infuriatingly steady rhythm. He looked entirely unbothered, his expression smooth and calm as a lake. "People can be entitled sometimes. It wasn't worth the stress, though."

You spun around to face him, your eyes narrowing. "That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You were standing right there, and you didn't say a word! You just watched me handle it alone."

Jongho sighed, keeping his voice low and measured. "What were you expecting me to do, exactly? It’s a bakery line. We got our bread, we left. It’s over."

"I expected you to stand up for me!" you snapped, your voice rising in pitch. "You could have defended me, or at least shown a little bit of support instead of just standing there like a statue. It’s always like this—you’re so composed, so damn chill, while I’m the one out here losing my mind over the smallest things. Do you ever feel anything, or is it all just logic with you?"

He looked at you, a small, knowing chuckle escaping his lips. He moved closer, leaning against the doorframe with an air of relaxed confidence that only served to fuel your fire. "I think it works out, honestly. We balance each other perfectly. You’re the fire, and I’m the one who makes sure we don't actually burn the house down. It’s a good system."

Your breath hitched. "A 'system'? Is that all we are? And what is that supposed to mean, anyway? Are you saying I’m too emotional?"

He shook his head quickly, his expression softening, though that maddeningly calm glint remained in his eyes. "That’s not what I said, and you know it. You’re just passionate. I like that about you."

You didn't want to hear it. You let out an angry huff and marched into the bathroom, grabbing your hairbrush with a grip so tight your knuckles turned white. You started yanking the brush through your hair, the motion sharp and erratic as you continued your tirade.

"You’re just a rock," you grumbled, half to yourself and half to his reflection in the mirror. "You have no heart, no reaction, no pulse. You just watch me get worked up and you stand there like you’re observing a weather pattern. It’s honestly exhausting being with someone so… unbothered."

Jongho didn't move. He stayed right where he was, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched you intently, his gaze heavy and focused, tracking every movement of your hand and every flicker of annoyance on your face. He didn't interrupt; he didn't offer any more logical justifications.

Instead, he watched you with a look of quiet, intense fascination. As you continued to ramble, your movements became more animated, your passion spilling out into every word. He began to bite his lower lip, his eyes darkening as he watched the flush crawl up your neck.

He didn't seem to hear a single word of your insults. He simply stood there, clearly enjoying the sight of your unbridled energy.

𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐖𝐀: I think Seonghwa likes your eyes the most. He could get lost in them forever, and even when looking into them for the hundredth time, he never gets tired of them. Sometimes he claims he can see the whole universe through your eyes, and though you know he is only joking, to him it's heartfelt. You are, after all, his universe.

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆: Hongjoong likes your personality the most. It's not a secret that his job as an artist is very demanding, having to stay up late to either practice or compose or anything which takes up too much energy. Oftentimes, he finds himself astray due to the fact that he has hardly time for himself. But then you come around the corner, and always manage to lift up his spirits with your beautiful personality. He sees you as the light at the end of the tunnel when things get hard.

𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐎: Yunho definitely likes your height the most. That goes for people who are shorter or taller than him. He obviously cherishes his height a lot, considering he is the tallest member in ATEEZ. He is proud of it and becomes even more so when you stand next to him. When being shorter, his pride exceeds. You look small and fragile next to him and he loves that feeling. And when you're taller than him, he feels so proud that he can look up to the love of his life, literally.

𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐆: Yeosang loves your hair. He loves combing his fingers through it or styling it in different ways. Whether it's braiding your hair or sectioning strands of hair and putting them in cute ponytails, it doesn't matter. It makes him calm and collected and lets him forget everything that's around him. He loves smelling your hair, especially when you have just washed your hair. It smells like home.

𝐒𝐀𝐍: your confidence. I feel like, because San himself is very confident, he looks for confidence in a partner. And the way you handle yourself, even on bad days, just makes him fall in love again every time. Even when you feel like you're not confident in yourself, he'll point out all the good things he sees in you. Because if you can see all his perfections, why shouldn't you be able to see it in yourself?

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈: your cheeks. Something about them always makes him smile. The way your cheeks go into mochi-mode when you smile has him smitten all over you. There never goes a day by when he doesn't try to make you smile or blush, just to see your cheeks all red and cute. He definitely does the grandma cheek-grabbing because he cannot help it. If it's cute then he must squeeze them. Must.

𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆: Listen, this boy. He is the most hyper member in ATEEZ, that's established. He smiles a lot, and then I mean, a lot. And he loves smiling. But you know what he loves even more? Seeing you smile, especially when it's because of him. He loves the way you laugh whenever he does something silly. Even in serious situations, he cannot contain himself. Seeing you smile is equal to people in Ancient Greece seeing Zeus himself coming down from Olympus. He is addicted to your smile.

𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎: It's a known fact that Mariah Carey bows down to Jongho. I mean, come on. When you enter Heaven, the first thing you'll hear is Jongho's voice. And he cherishes his voice very much. It's a given, he is an angel in disguise who has a choir as vocal cords. And though he loves his voice very much, he loves you talking even more. Especially when you sing too, even if it's a little song while you're cleaning or just doing your thing. Even if you cannot really sing well, it doesn't matter. Your voice reigns supreme. You are his Mariah Carey.

A/N: My first ever headcanon, and of course about my favourite boys. I hope you enjoyed these headcanons! See you hopefully next time <3

- It’s one week before college starts

- You are sitting in the assembly hall to listen to some professors greeting the new students

- After some very boring speeches everyone goes to the front to get their keys if they stay at the college dorms and good luck wishes

- Of course this gets messy, so you stand around in the back, waiting for most of the students to go their own way

- While waiting you meet sees 2 cute guys

- They introduce each other as Seonghwa and Yeosang. You thought they were cute and since they were holding hands you came to the conclusion in your mind tho, that they are probably dating. You make a mental note to ask them some other time

- A few minutes later another boy joins you.

- He seems annoyed but friendly enough as he introduces himself as Hongjoong

- Upon hearing your name his eyes get cold, almost empty

- You take a step back, asking yourself if you said anything wrong

- Before you can overthink tho Seonghwa pulls you into a conversation about what you are studying and why you decide on it

- Soon enough you two switch numbers and you decide to open a chat room together with Yeosang who Seonghwa says will be glad to join before just adding him since he went to the front already to get his keys.

- Hongjoong was nowhere to be seen and you were kinda relieved of it

- You part ways as Yeosang comes back with two keys hanging on his fingers and giving one to Seonghwa while giving him a kiss on his cheek before blushing

- After you get your keys you walk around the campus, searching for your room which didn’t take you too long since you informed yourself in beforehand

- You only look at the number of the doors so when you finally arrive in front of your room you literally ran into someone who came from the other side of the hallway

- It was Hongjoong

- You both roll your eyes as you insert your keys, telling him he shouldn't worry and that he probably got the wrong key

- What you couldn’t see was his glare at you, some kind of knowledge in them

- As you step in the room you spot a greeting card and some fruits on the table

- It’s signed to the both of you, apologizing for the inconvenience of you two having to share a room with the reason of “to many students”, “not enough rooms”

- You both look around the room until your eyes land on one big problem

- There is only ONE BED

- No way

- As if they could see feel your frustration building up you get a message in the "we are cuties" groupchat you have with Seonghwa and Yeosang, asking you if you want to go out and explore the campus

- "I will go out.", is the only thing you say before turning around and leaving the apartment

- He just rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue out after you

- You actually have a nice evening out with the boys and rant to them about your roommate - - They tell you that they don't know why their friend acts that way towards you, but they promise if they get any information about the topic they will let you know

- Also they tell you, that you could sleep in their room if needed

- When you came home to your new Apartment Hongjoong is sitting on the bed with his laptop, a row of pillows in the middle of the bed, dividing it perfectly in two

- You sigh defeated 

- He looks up, half surprised, half annoyed, pulling one eyebrow up in question, what you don’t see since you were searching for your bath stuff to get ready for bed

- You and Hongjoong deathstare at each other when you lie down on the other half, putting earphones in and turning your volume up

~~~

- Next day you wake up to the smell of coffee along with complete silence

- Coming into the kitchen, you see 2 cups on the table. One empty one full with milk and sugar next to it

- You almost let out a sound of awe at the thoughtful gesture but resisted against it, as you decided to try and thank him later

- Since the apartment is empty you decide to unpack in peace, listening to music, dancing and singing along

- Time seemed to fly fast, because before you knew it, the morning had passed and the clock had struck into early evening hours. Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong arrived home, only to witness the glorious sight of you dancing like an idiot around the apartment. 

- It was an absolute miracle that you didn’t even notice his presence at all, which to be honest, Hongjoong was grateful for. 

- Why? Because then he wouldn’t have time to realise that he had been staring at you dancing with, dare I say, affection? 

- When you finally turn around to his direction he quickly looked away, barely saving face as he made an excuse to take some iced Americano in the fridge.

- Even though you caught him awkwardly looking away, you knit your brows together, confused about his attitude 

- Hongjoong suddenly spoke, “I’m going out again. Unless you’re dying, don’t bother contacting me.” 

- He didn’t even give you a chance to reply as he dashed out the door. 

- You pouted, “Wasn’t going to, but okay dude.” You said to no one but yourself as you shrugged and continued dancing until your knees gave in.

- As you put away the final box, you looked at the clock. It was getting late, but there were yet to be signs of Hongjoong coming back to the apartment. 

- At first, you thought that you couldn’t care less of where he is, but you somehow felt this pit in your stomach when you think about what he could be doing at that moment. 

- To clear your conscience (and maybe do something nice for once) you made some tea and put it at his bedside table before going to sleep, carefully putting all available pillows in the middle of the bed again

- When Hongjoong finally came home, he was greeted with your soft snores. 

- “Typical” He scoffed, taking off his jacket and prepared himself to go to sleep as well. 

- Going to his side of the bed, he tilted his head. A mug full of tea, albeit cold, stood on the side table like it was smiling kindly towards the boy. 

- Hongjoong stole a glance at your peacefully sleeping figure. Did you do this? 

- All of a sudden, he felt a pang in his chest. 

- He furrowed his eyebrows together from the abrupt pain. Wait, why am I feeling this? Shit.

- Panicking from such a rush of guilt, he spontaneously took the mug and chugged the entirety of it within seconds. 

- After he coughed a couple of times, he tucked himself in, stealing one last look of you before serenely looking up at the ceiling.

- Conflicted with overwhelming emotion, he wrapped his hands around his head.

- Adamant about his “hatred” for you, he decided to fix the room without even telling you.

- And after many failed attempts, he managed to find a music studio which rented unused studios out to students, and it couldn’t have been a more perfect escape.

~~~

- The next day you wake up to the smell of coffee again, this time with a note next to it

- "don't wait up, have a nice day"

- you decided to go out and message Seonghwa and Yeosang if they want to join you

- They decline since they were unpacking but asked if you would want to come over instead

- You arrive at their little apartment, which was actually bigger than yours and had two bedrooms, even though they were only using one

- They didn’t let you help so you sit on Seonghwas bed and try to talk to him about Hongjoong

- But he just shrugged and said that he doesn’t know what was going on inside his head

- Yeosang said though, that it still sounds just like their friend, since even in highschool he was always busy and sleeping only a few hours at ungodly times of the day

- When you came home from your day at the lovebirds apartment, you are surprised to hear loud music before you even open the door

- There he was, blasting some seemingly random beats over his speakers, sitting on the floor surrounded by sheets of paper

- You look at him in awe and before you could stop yourself you say: “I didn’t know you work on music”

- Your voice startles him, he lets out a loud huff and stars to gather his stuff

- ”yeah I do. Until you came along.”

- Hongjoong tries to walk past you and out the door when you snap:

- “What is your problem with me? You know normal roommates can usually communicate! If you need some space I get that, I can be quiet and just do my stuff over there and put headphones in. HOW ABOUT JUST SPEAKING TO ME FOR ONCE?!”

- He just looks at you with big eyes, mouth slightly agape

- ”You know what? forget it.”

- With that you take your bag which hangs by the door. “I will be in the library for the rest of the day.”

- The apartment loomed in darkness when you arrived there, which is weird because you see Hongjoong’s shoes in the hallway. 

- Hongjoong sits on the bed, headphones in his laptop, seemingly working

- But as soon a you put your bag down he looks up and you mentally prepare for some harsh words as reaction to your own ones earlier

- “I’m sorry.”

- “pardon?”

- “I’m not used to living with someone. I usually like to be on my own and requested that at the college. So I was pissed when I found out that I will have a roommate when they gave me my key. So I asked for a name to find them and talk to them. It wasn’t your fault. I should have talked to you.”

- You just nod

- After this you just talked everything out, sitting on the bed.  

- "So..is that it? Are we cool?" 

- You hummed, "No"

- "What?!"

- "Not until we set down some ground rules."

- Hongjoong retorted," I thought we did that when we first moved in."

- You gave him a deadpan look, "Bordering the two sides of the bed with a wall of pillows is not setting down ground rules, Hongjoong."

- “It kinda is, thou-” You gave him another look that made him backtrack, “ Ah, okay, I see your point.” 

- Seeing him hurrying to agree with you after you intimidated him amused you, because you didn’t even mean it that much. A smile tugged on your lips as you suggested a few starter rules. 

- Before long, the both of you agreed on a comprehensive set of regulations written on a piece of paper, albeit stained with coffee and in Hongjoong’s questionable writing, to which he claimed is due to your impatient dictation.

- “You try writing stuff when the person dictating it to you doesn’t want to spare 2 seconds in slowing down.” 

- ”Dude, we’re in college. That’s practically our lives.” 

- ”Shut up.” 

- “Then keep writing!”

- When you look at the final result, you smiled, “ This should do it. I especially like this extra detail you put in the corners.”

- “ I am an artiste, ladybug, let my creativity fly.”

- You sniggered, “God, the moment we’re not at each other’s throats, you turn even more annoying, how is that even possible?” 

- “And you’re still sweet as ever, aren’t you?”

- The both of you chuckled as you subtly changed the subject.

- You tell him how cool you think it is that he does music as a hobby, but that you don’t like him to overwork himself after he told you how his friends found him passed out on his laptop once. 

- When you grow tired you two build the pillows in the middle of the bed together. Just to be sure you know

~~~

- After that you kind of become friends, he still gets annoyed if you are home too much while hes working and you sometimes snap at him when you realize he hasn’t eaten anything in 30 hours but it’s nice

- It feels kinda special

- One day when you come home early because the lecture was boring and you couldn’t be bothered to just sit there and act like you care what your professor was talking about you catch Hongjoong having a phone call

- He seems a bit frustrated with something, saying stuff like “No, I don’t want it.” “No, it’s fine.”

- So you go and start preparing some tea, what you know by now calms his nerves a bit

- When he finishes the call he flinches when he sees you standing there, luckily with your back turned to him

- You don’t hear him talking anymore so you felt free to ask: “What was the call about?”

- “Nothing.”, he answers too quickly, watching your back intensely 

- “Okay then.”, you knew better than to start discussing with him. He would come to you if he wants to talk about it. 

- “I made you some tea.”

- You turn around and you swear you could see something like softness in his eyes before he casts them down at the cup of tea that you reach out to him

- What you didn’t know was that the call Hongjoong got was from the College telling him that he could have his own apartment now

- But he declined

- Because you are good for his health and he knows he would feel lonely now alone in a big apartment. Even though he would never admit that out loud.

~~~

- It’s a Sunday when you wake up because you feel too warm

- You try to stretch to wake up fully, but there are arms holding you close and your legs are entangled

- You let out a small screech and try to get up, which wakes up Hongjoong who falls out of the bed with a small yelp as he lets you go

- “I’m sorry!” “Sorry..”, you both apologize in an instant

- The breakfast afterwards was awkward to say the least, since no one wants to talk about the way they woke up

- Saying you need some fresh air you go out, leaving him alone in the apartment, overthinking on his own

- He tries to put what he feels into a song, it’s the only way he feels confident enough to speak about himself

- You try to reach Seonghwa and Yeosang to talk to them, but your texts don’t seem to get through and when you try to call only the voicemail answers

- Luckily it’s good weather so you search for a nice place to sit down and just think

- Some hours went by and you seem to have fallen asleep

- Because the next thing you know is opening your eyes to Seonghwas worried face while he softly shakes your shoulders

- Apparently Yeosang and he had been searching everywhere for you after they looked at their phones and then you were the one who they didn’t seem to be able to reach

- While Seonghwa sits next to you and text his lover that he found you, you try to summarize what happened the last days especially this morning

- Seonghwa listens patiently and asks you if you want to spend the night at their place since they have an unused bed

- So it happens to be the first night you decide to sleep at the, how you sweetly call it, lovebirds place, giving hongjoong a quick heads up over text

- Hongjoong doesn’t like the knot he feels settling in his stomach, but he accepts

- What else should he do anyway

- He uses the extra time to perfect the lyrics to his song 

~~~

- It takes him several days in and out of the studio to finish the song

- In that time you two don’t see each other often

- Most of the time one leaves while the other comes back to the apartment

- It starts to get on your nerves

- And you start to worry a bit because Hongjoong seems to sleep at the studio, at least you fall asleep alone and wake up alone

- Even though you don’t want to admit it, you miss him

- A lot

~~~

- One day you come home from studying, you hear a soft melody playing in the apartment when you open the door

- you come in slowly, not wanting to scare Hongjoong out of the apartment

- Because actually you want to talk to him about what happened a few days ago 

- And maybe tell him that you kinda miss him?! 

- When you step into the room there is food on the table, he even found an old candle somewhere and lit up in the middle of it

- “Joong?”, you call him questioning, his nickname rolling off your tongue like butter

- You hear him hum from the kitchen. “Sit down, I'll be right there.”

- So you do just that, waiting.

- The air feels kinda thick, filled with anticipation, and curiosity about what is happening right now

- With nothing else to calm yourself down, you took it upon yourself to focus on the song that had been playing.

- It was as soft as when the melody started, the lyrics just as enchanting and beautiful.

- However, after a while, you stopped yourself to further analyse; The lyrics, it tells a story. A story all too familiar. 

- And that was when you knew. This song, this ethereal piece, is about you.

- Blood rushed towards your cheeks as the realisation hits you. 

- Joong stands in the door, watching you and your reactions closely

- “Now that you know how I feel about you, lets eat.”

- You wish you could knock that smirk out of his face but you are speechless, overwhelmed by emotions

- You eat quietly, only glancing at him every now and then, same goes for him.

- “Joongie?” 

- “Hmm?”, he raises one of his eyebrows

- “I missed you.”

~~~

- A few days later you wake up to a kiss on your cheek