BUT I WONT ACCEPT ANYONE UNLESS THEY'RE SOONYOUNG - Tumblr Posts

More fluffy fics like that seungcheol baby proof ones fls🥹🫶 i wanna feel even more single and ur fics r the most effective way i've found

Decided to combine these and i just accidentally wrote something so emo, so fluffy, so sweet, that i contemplated joining hinge bc it made me feel so boyfriendless!

thank you both for coming into my inbox and inspiring this!! ily forever!!

Rating: T

Word Count: ~2100

Content Notes: fluff, clingy soonyoung, established relationship, food mention, alcohol mention, soft so very very soft, im in love with him fr

“Soonyoung, someone has to cook, and I know it won’t be you, so you might have to let go of me,” You breathe out with exasperation. 

Soonyoung had been wrapped around you since you got home from work. He’d been waiting by the door like a 50s housewife, with your favorite robe and slippers at the ready. He stripped you himself, unbuttoning your work blouse with such haste you expected him to rip it right off of you. He’d followed your pants down to the floor, kneeling and pressing a kiss to your tummy that you expected to lead somewhere else, so you were surprised when he just sat on the ground and wrapped his arms around your legs instead. 

“Uhm… ‘sup, babe?” You asked, very confused and very endeared. 

Soonyoung tilted his head up to look at you, eyes sparkling and lips pursed into a pout, “I just missed you while you were gone.”

And how could you be annoyed, when he rose slowly and wrapped the robe around you with gentle hands, tongue stuck out between his lips as he tied the belt in a clumsy bow and fixed the lapels. How could you be frustrated when he let out a little ah! and ducked down to pull your pumps off and slide your aching feet into your slippers before springing up to plant a kiss on your lips. How could you feel tired when he grabbed your hands in his and yanked you into a hug, nestling his face into your neck and wrapping you up tight in his muscly arms, before bodily walking you over to the couch and collapsing on his back with you on top of him. 

You laid there together for half an hour, his breaths merging with yours, your body melting into his, both of you close to drifting off until his stomach growled and yours answered. You pulled your face out of the couch and he pulled his from your neck and you stared at each other in a silent stand-off. You could tell Soonyoung just wanted to order in, but you’d already gotten take out yesterday and you were craving a real, homecooked meal. 

Soonyoung wouldn’t be able to help with that though, he could barely even follow directions in the kitchen, let alone make a whole meal by himself. It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying, but you’d come home to enough fire alarms and burnt pans (not just food, but pans) to place him on a cooking embargo. 

And that brings you back to the present, where you stand in front of the stove, stirring the peppercorn sauce while the steaks sizzle in the oven. Scratch that, where you AND Soonyoung stand in front of the stove, his arms wrapped around you like a sloth and his body following your movements just as slowly as one, as you stir the peppercorn sauce. He hadn’t let go of you at all, not when you bent down to move the cast iron from the stovetop to the oven, not when you turned to the fridge to get the cream out, not when you ducked to grab a red from the chiller. No, he’d just crouched with you, dancer’s body following yours gracefully (if a little sluggish), and you begin to wonder if you’ve been taking on too many hours at work. 

Soonyoung can be clingy, sure, but usually not like this, and not for this long, especially if it starts to impede your cooking. But you can’t find it in yourself to shrug him off, to unlatch his arms from around your waist, not when you’ve missed him just as much. It was harder for you than he knew, harder than you let him know, to drag yourself away from his warm embrace every morning. To dress silently, and press a light kiss to his forehead, and pretend you didn’t feel his eyes on you as you left, or his fingers catching at your fluttering blouse. 

You’d spent a good few mornings this month dabbing your under eyes with a tissue at stoplights, hoping your mascara wasn’t running with your tears as you pictured him rolling over to occupy the space you left, gathering your pillow in his arms and holding it like he wanted to hold you. You know he does, because your side of the bed always smells a bit like him when you get home, the sheets twisted up and your pillow laying vertically instead of at the head of the bed. 

But someone has to work while Soonyoung finishes his master’s, and you’re happy to be that someone so he can focus fully on his choreography and kinesthetic studies. You know he’ll be an amazing dance teacher, and you’re willing (happy, even) to make sacrifices to get him there. 

Maybe you don’t need to be sacrificing so much though, accepting so many extra projects and spending so much extra time at work, if he’s been missing you like this. He’d been hiding it well, just holding you a bit tighter at night and texting you at work a bit more, but today must’ve been different for some reason. 

Maybe it was how you had to gently unwind his fingers from your belt loop after you bent down to kiss him goodbye. Maybe it was how you couldn’t respond to his messages until your late lunch break today. Maybe it was how you missed his call because you were stuck in a meeting that went an hour longer than was necessary. 

Fuck, you knew you hadn’t been imagining the tears in his voice when you’d listened to his voicemail on the way home. 

With the steaks resting on the island, and the sauce thickening on the stove, your hands were finally free, and you spun around in Soonyoung’s arms to wrap yours around his neck and pull him into a tight hug. You could feel his sigh, feel him relax into your body like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and you swayed a bit, holding him close to you. His head rests on your shoulder, face buried in your neck and fingers clutching at your robe, and you feel the sniffle before you hear it. 

“Oh, baby, Soonie, I’m sorry I’ve been gone so much lately,” you breathe into his hair, feeling your heart clench when he just holds you tighter and sniffles again. More and more of his weight leans into you and you have to back into the counter to brace yourself, the edge digging into your spine, as he all but melts into you. You don’t care, can barely feel anything but his body in your arms and his heart beating against yours, and you feel him whisper something into your collarbone, feel his wet eyelashes brushing against your skin. 

“Can you say that again, honey?” You ask gently, hoping Soonyoung won’t burst into tears at having to speak louder (as he’s prone to doing when he’s emotional). 

“Babe, it’s not your fault. I know you’re doing it for me,” he sniffles, “I think that might make it worse,” he finishes, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with damp eyes. 

“Why would that make it worse, Soonie?” you inquire, a bit confused. 

“Because it’s selfish to miss you so much when you’re away because of me, when I know you miss me just as much. Don’t think I haven’t noticed all your mascara tissues in the car!” 

You jump a bit as his voice raises, classic Soonyoung passion shining through, and he whispers a gentle apology as his hands smooth over your hair and his thumbs stroke your cheekbones. His cute pout graces his lips again, cheeks puffing out a bit as he tries to hold in his tears, but his face just turns red and scrunches up more before he tries to hide it behind his hands. He doesn’t get far before he realizes that means he’ll have to let go of you, so he lets the fat tears flow and tilts his head back so they don’t soak into the collar of his shirt. 

Soonyoung is always willing to show his emotions, but he doesn’t usually cry this easily, and you just have to ask, “Soonyoung, did you have something to drink before I got home?”

You bite your smile between your lips as he avoids your gaze, throwing his head to the side and then down to push at your sternum, “maybe a beer. Or two.” 

Giggling, you unwrap your arms from his shoulders and your hands drift up to pull his forehead from your chest. He’s still hesitant to meet your eyes, probably thinking he’s in trouble for some reason (you’ve never gotten mad at him for drinking, so you’re not sure why he’s shy all of a sudden), and you tilt his face in your hands so he’s looking at you. Your smile scrunches to the side as your thumbs wipe gently at his under eyes and you release his face to blindly grab at a paper towel so he can blow his nose. He turns away, sticking close by and leaving only to throw the towel away, though his fingers stay tangled with the belt of your robe. 

Soonyoung’s face is still red when he finally turns back to you of his own volition, looking embarrassed and a bit fragile still. 

“You know, I started feeling a little sick on the way home today,” you pause and his eyes grow wide with concern, one hand flying up to press on your forehead and the other cupping your cheek as his brows pinch together. 

You hold his stare as you (very obviously) fake cough into your elbow and pretend to swoon. He catches on quickly enough, smile growing on his face and pushing his cheeks up to crease under his eyes, and the palm on your forehead shifts to your other cheek until your face is smushed between his hands. 

“I think I should probably take tomorrow off and use the long weekend to rest and recover,” you say through the forced pout, your eyes crossing as he leans in to smack a wet kiss on your lips. He lets go of your face to wind his arms around you again and pull you close, his body breaking out into a little dance and his head moving back and forth so much you giggle into his mouth. 

This sends him into a laughing fit too, and you feel your heart beat a bit faster, a bit harder, as you stand there in the kitchen, wrapped up in Soonyoung, steaks and wine completely forgotten.

You remember them soon enough, thankfully before the sauce has curdled on the stove, and eat together at the table. Exchanging shy looks and kicking your feet with his under the table, you and Soonyoung discuss ideas for your day in tomorrow. 

You settle on a lie in, and movies on the couch, and pizza from your favorite italian spot, and a warm bath with candles and bubbles and wine. 

The day passes beautifully, you waking up to your limbs tangled up with Soonyoung’s and his breath puffing against your neck. You build a fort together and watch each other’s favorite movies, nestled in blankets and bathed in the glow of the fairy lights you’d strung up, glancing shyly at each other like it was the first date rather than the five hundredth. 

The pizza is delicious, made better by the fact you didn’t have to make it and Soonyoung wouldn’t have to clean up, and you sink into the bath together with a sigh. You mold his hair into a shampoo mohawk and he sculpts you a bubble beard that he swiftly disturbs by sweeping you into a kiss, smearing suds all over both of your faces. Things cool down only when the soap gets into your mouths and you take turns rinsing with water from the faucet before agreeing to finish up in the shower and go to bed. 

He cuddles up close to you, tugging the sheet over your heads and whispering like it was a sleepover, holding your hands tightly in his and staring incessantly at you. You’re not sure he even blinks, he’s so entranced with you, but you can’t judge him when you’re doing the same, taking in every expression that flits across his face. 

It really had been too long since you’d done something like this, you think, as you drift off together, silently thanking the two beers for loosening Soonyoung’s lips and attaching him to your hip yesterday. Just a few more months, and this can be your life everyday…

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