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#kpop scenarios
bluejaem · a day ago
my muse — j.jh
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PAIRING. husband!jaehyun × fem!reader GENRE. fluff WARNINGS. profanity, fem reader WORD COUNT. 0.628k
requested. for my request it’s not much but a jaehyun fluff fic!! i really don’t have a specific fic in mind but imagine how much he spoils you after being newlyweds 🥺 by anon.
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jung jaehyun. that was the name of the man you were miserably in love with, how a mere college love story bloomed into one of a lifetime’s. and how could you blame yourself? he was beautiful. inside, and out.
when it comes to jaehyun, resistance is something you were never familiar with. no matter how hard you’d try, you always end up giving in. there’s something about him that you find so intriguing. something to his aura that never fails to bring in pleasant surprises. it was like this weird force of attraction that never failed to make you fall for him all over again, if that was even possible.
“can i open my eyes now?” you smiled, facing jaehyun with your eyes still closed.
“uh-uh, not yet. we’re almost there,” jaehyun chuckled, holding your hand in his as he guided you to a surprise that awaits you.
you supposed that you’d entered the living room, feeling the familiar wooden flooring below your naked feet. and just then, you heard something banging onto the little wooden table kept there.
“ow— i think i stubbed my toe,” jaehyun hissed in pain. worried, you opened your eyes in an instance, “are you okay?” you asked. but after looking at the sight of jaehyun hopping on one leg and trying to gain his balance by gripping onto the headrest of the couch, you tried your best to suppress your laughter.
jaehyun saw your expression and couldn’t help but laugh a little as well, even though his toe hurt like a bitch. “do you find this funny?” he asked, chuckling.
“i mean, i was the one with closed eyes, but you ended up stubbing your toe against the table,” you said, making your way towards him as you put your hand on his shoulder. “should i bring you a cold compress?” you asked, your voice laced with worry again.
jaehyun managed to stand straight and gave you a reassuring smile, “no, it’s alright. i think i’ll manage.” he took you by your hand once again, “for a surprise awaits you.”
jaehyun turned to his right, making you do the same. and that’s when you saw a cozy little pillow fort, decorated with fairy lights, and of course, fluffy pillows. 
jaehyun smiles for the umpteenth time when he sees a glint of a child-like excitement in your eyes as you walked up towards the pillow fort. maybe those four hours of pure struggle to find an inhumane number of pillows to make that fort really did pay off.
“god, jae, this looks so pretty,” you cooed, and without even realising it, you were smiling wide.
“there’s more,” jaehyun smiled, presenting you with a huge teddy bear— which, of course, looked very much cuddle-able.
accepting the giant soft toy from him, you asked, still confused, “when did you do all this— wait, is this why you told me to go shopping with mark today?”
jaehyun’s lips morphed into a sheepish smile, a hue of pink evidently taking over his cheeks as tried his best to avoid your gaze, “maybe?”
“jung jaehyun, you best be saying the truth right now,” your eyes looked up at him questioningly.
jaehyun sighed in defeat, interlocking his fingers with yours, he locked eyes with you, “i just wanted to give you a little gift, mrs. jung jaehyun.”
jaehyun smiled wide when he completed his sentence. putting much obvious emphasis on the “mrs. jung jaehyun,” with the term making the both of you smile unconsciously.
leaning in, he pressed a kiss on your forehead. and then greeting you with the infamous dimpled grin of his, “you can cuddle with the teddy bear if you ever miss me and i’m not home.”
“sure, loverboy. you’re still as childish as ever.”
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© BLUEJAEM, 2021
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295 notes · View notes
nctsplug02 · 2 days ago
husband ceo! jaehyun railing you on his office desk🥵
genre: smut and fluff
a/n: guys I’m sorry i haven’t posted for.. two days?? I’ve been sick and haven’t wrote anything
You hum as you walk in the tall building, you walk past the receptionist when she winks at you, of course she knew you, everyone did. You’d visit everyday, bringing jaehyun some lunch as usual.
As the elevator doors open, you see a confused Jeno rubbing his forehead while staring down at a paper.
“Good afternoon, Jeno.” He looks up at you and then smiles, his eyes creasing to a moon shaped. “Oh, good afternoon, Mrs. Jeong! Bringing jaehyun hyung some more lunch?” You nod holding up the bag full of food you had made. “Well, just in time. He’s in his office answering some emails.” He points behind him.
“Thank you, Jeno,” as you walk past Jeno you stop and turn around. “Jeno, sweetie. I’ll make some lunch for you tomorrow, okay?” His eyes sparkled and he nodded, cheeks heating up.
You turn back and start walking towards jaehyuns office. You knocked on the door and walked in, you looked over at him and saw him on the phone.
“Yeah, I’ll see if y/n will let me… dude obviously I’m gonna have to ask, she my wife and what if she wants me home? See.” He notices you and quickly tells the person on the other side that he will call them back.
“Hey, gorgeous.” He grins widely as he stands up and walks towards you, meeting you halfway through the room. “Hello, handsome,” you pause as he leans in and gives you a sweet kiss.
‘Hmm, peach.’ You hum to yourself as you taste his chapstick.
“made you some lunch again, it’s just the same lunch I packed for Arling today.” He takes the bag from your hand and lowers his hand on your lower back, leading you to his chair. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to eat it all.” He sits on and pats his thigh.
You sit on his thigh and instantly lean against his chest. “Mmm, looks very delicious, baby.” Jaehyun slightly laughs while rubbing your hip. “Thank you again, baby.” He says while picking up his utensils and digging in.
After lunch, you had excused yourself to use the bathroom. As you walk back to his office, you bumped into Jeno again. “Oh, hi Jeno.” He stood up straight and smiled. “Ah, h—hi noona.” He stuttered causing a giggle to come from you.
“Did you have lunch yet?” He looks down and shakes his head. “Hmm? Why not? You should’ve had lunch..” you look down at your watch. “oh, my. You should’ve had lunch 45 minutes ago, what are you still doing?” He shakes his head with a nervous laugh. “I’m just finishing up some emails that needs to be finished.” You frown.
“No— you know what, just go eat. Go eat some lunch, I’ll go tell Mr. Jeong that he needs to give you a break, okay?” You rub his arm and you could see his cheeks heat up. “Thank you, Mrs. Jeong.” You nod and start walking away back to jaehyuns office.
“Jae,” jaehyun looks up from his phone. “You’ve got to stop overworking your employees.” He cocks and eyebrow up. “I just bumped into jeno and he hasn’t eaten lunch yet, you’ve got give the kid a break.” Jaehyun turns his phone off and sighs.
“Baby, you’re starting to sound like a teacher.” He chuckles, tucking his hands in his pockets. “Well..” you throw your hands up in confusion, not knowing what to say. “The— the kids got to eat.” Jaehyun walks over to you and grabs you by the waist.
“You’re so sweet.” He kisses your cheek while squeezing the shit out of your ribs. “Oh—okay, can’t really— breathe here!” He lets go and apologizes.
“Now..” you crack a smile as his hands slide down to your ass.
“Can I have my dessert now?” You hum and shake your head in a jokingly way. “No?” He smirks and starts leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck.
He uses both hands to cup your ass and to lift you up, he carries you onto his desk and quickly spreads your legs apart. You whimper as he yanks your skirt down, your panties going with. “Look at your wet pussy just waiting to be eaten.” He says with a sultry laugh.
He spreads your legs wider and slowly makes his way down to your aching core. “Ahh..” you lowly moan and he dips two finger into your dripping heat. “Oh, did you feel that?” You shake your head not knowing what he’s talking about. “My fingers slid right in.” He laughs and starts thrusting his fingers.
You lean back as he starts hitting your g-spot, your back arches off his desk as he repeatedly hits your sweet spot. “Jae—! Jae! I’m— im so close!” You whisper, pushing his hand away but it doesn’t budge. Your hips stuttering as he pulls his fingers out and leaves you overstimulated on the table.
The man doesn’t hold back and slams his cock into your hole, he groaned as you clenched around him. “God, this tight pussy of yours is gonna make me cum already, ugh, I could never get tired of this pussy.” He groans while slamming himself into you.
His cock perfectly hitting your sweet spot at a good rhythm. The table shook as jaehyun sent powerful thrusts in your pussy. His pens clinked together as the table shook.
“Right there, oh! Jae, right there, yes!” You felt your stomach twist and turn. “Right there? Yeah, how bout this?” You bite back a scream as jaehyun placed his thumb on your clit. He applied some pressure onto your clit and it made you cum.
He now focuses on himself, he focused in you but now, it’s about him.
He pulls out and pulls you off the desk. He turns you around and smacks your ass, a moan carelessly escaping from you.
He then rams himself back into you which causes the pen holder to fall onto the ground. But, it didn’t take him too long until he painted your walls with his white ribbons. As dresses you back up, he pulls you back against his chest. “Don’t spill a single drop, got it?” You nod, panting heavily.
Did you spill any, no, maybe just a bit.
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multihoe-net · 2 days ago
adulthood pt.2 - y.ji.
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summary: after such a long time of bottled up feelings and a lot of tension, you finally give yourself to your new boyfriend.
pairing: I.N. x female reader
genre: smut, fluff
warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral (male receiving), usage of “noona”, Jeongin is a tease.
taglist:  @changbinscypher @leagreenly
[part one]
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Jeongin towered your body, kissing you and allowing you to savor his soft lips once again. Your hunger for him increased, making you sit up and unbutton his shirt without breaking the kiss before sliding it down his shoulders. Your hands roamed down his biceps as he trailed wet kisses down your neck, his hand searching for the zipper of your dress to pull it down and throw it away. As soon as he did, you took the opportunity to scan his body carefully with your eyes, biting your lip at the luscious sight. He was way more toned than you imagined. Bare, honey-colored chest on full display, strong arms, and defined abs that you were dying to run your fingers over. A necklace hanging from his neck and adorning beautifully his collarbone. It didn’t take long until Jeongin noticed the way you stared at him with dark and lustful orbs, thing that filled him up with pride.
“Like what you see, noona?” He asked teasingly with a smirk plastered on his face. You felt the arousal that pooled between your legs becoming unbearable in need of him.
But you had other plans.
You stood up from the bed and his eyes followed you, brows pinching together in confusion. Now in front of him, you gently and seductively pushed him to lay on his back against the mattres. Your mouth colliding with his skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over his chest and abdomen, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans to pull them off him. He looked down at your actions, not daring to stop you as you stripped him naked. You smirked as soon as his dick landed against his stomach, hard as a rock and temptingly glistening with pearly beads of pre-cum.
Wrapping your hand around his length, you slowly started to pump him as you placed soft kisses from his lips, down his neck, chest and abdomen until you dropped down on your knees. Jeongin sat up, propping up with his elbows to get a better sight as you started to lick on the head of his dick. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, not hesitating to move his hand and tangle his long slender fingers adorned with rings in your hair. Lower lip trapped between his teeth, small moans erupting from his mouth at the feeling of your wet tongue on him.
“N-noona-” He breathed, mind spiralling as you moved your hand up and down his shaft. You didn’t say anything in return, but slid his dick into your mouth without a second thought, twirling your tongue around it and sucking gently, you earned a whimper from him that made your thighs rub together in need of some friction. “Fuck, that feels so good.” He grunted, throwing his head back and pressing his eyes shut briefly before he looked back at you.
You hummed in response, the vibrations made him moan louder and you thanked destiny for the music downstairs that blared from the speakers. You hollowed your cheeks, licking from the shaft to the tip and then pushing him against the back of your throat. Your hand managed to stroke what your mouth was unable to, focusing on the tip with your mouth as you massaged the rest of him. Jeongin finally let himself lay on his back, still throwing his head back against the pillow and involuntarily bucking his hips against your mouth, making you gag slightly.
His sinful sounds filled the room and made it hard for you not to come right then and there. You bobbed your head a few times before you pulled back to catch your breath, soon wrapping your lips around the head again, sucking and licking to make him lose his mind. Jeongin felt his climax approaching mercilessly, and that’s when he decided to pull you away, helping you to stand up by your elbows.
“I never thought you’d be this good to me, noona.” He said, his lips brushing against yours. “So good to me. It’s my turn now. I’ll be so good to you that even when you sleep you'll be yearning to have me inside you.” He promised right before he crashed his lips with yours again. His tongue pressed on yours as he unhooked your bra and started squeezing your breasts, which made you moan against his mouth. His hand roamed down until he met with the waistband of your panties, parting lips with you just for a second to pull them down and throw them away, leaving the both of you completely naked and burning against each other.
Jeongin reattached his lips to your neck, licking and sucking gently, but hard enough to leave reddish-purple marks on your flesh. His hand cupped your cunt before his long fingers started running between your folds, up and down before they finally started circling on your clit.
A strangled moan slipped past your lips, tangling the fingers of your right hand in his silky locks as the other one gripped on the wrist that worked on your slit.
“You’re so wet, baby." He breathed against your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. “Who made you like this, hm? Who's got you so worked up and desperate?” He asked teasingly, ghosting his lips over your jaw.
“You did.” You responded. “I’m soaking for you.”
Jeongin moved his hand away from your core and brought it to your mouth, tapping on your lips for the entrance you quickly granted. As soon as your lips parted, he slid his two digits into your warm mouth, enjoying the way you salaciously sucked and twirled your tongue around them.
“Fuck me, Innie.” You moaned.
“You’re so hot.” He groaned. “I want you to be mine, and mine only.” He added, trailing his hand down your bare torso, but this time sliding his two large fingers on your entrance. You gasped and arched your back at the sudden pleasure. He started moving his fingers in and out of you, feeling you clench and enclose them tightly.
“What did you say, noona? I think I didn’t hear you. Louder.”
“Make me yours, please. I want you.” You pleaded. He finally stopped kissing your neck and sat up, pulling away his fingers. You looked up at him, panting, his eyes were darker than ever as he brought his fingers this time to his lips and licked them clean, not breaking eye contact with you.
Holy shit. He was a total demon.
“You’re sweeter than any dessert I’ve ever tasted.” He spoke. “I’ll make sure to eat you out next time, but right now I need you around me.” He added, standing in front of you and spreading your legs open for him, pumping on his shaft as his eyes wandered around the room.
You frowned.
“What is it?”
He looked back at you, an apologetic smile appearing on his lips.
“I don’t have a condom.”
You chuckled.
“I’m on the pill.”
He sighed in relief, grinning afterwards.
“Fucking yes.”
That was the last thing he said before you had him positioning himself at your entrance. He grabbed his cock with his hand and slid his cock inside of you, letting out a soft groan that harmonized with your moan. He stilled for a moment to let you adjust as your legs wrapped around his waist. You drinked him in, mouth watering at the sight and feeling of his burning skin against yours. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, starting to thrust his hips slowly, hands landing on one of your breasts again and massaging it, his thumb pinching and flicking your sensitive but while supporting his weight with one of his elbows.
“Fuck. You’re so tight.” He growled, making you buck your hips against him to meet his thrusts, gaining more moans from his mouth. You clenched around him, the sound of his moans made your body burning hot.
“Harder, please!” You begged, digging your nails on his biceps.
He complied. His thrusts became stronger and faster, making you both a moaning mess. Jeongin started placing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, breath ragged against your skin until the pleasure was too much he couldn’t focus on anything anymore. Filthy words and praises started rolling from his tongue, accompanied with curses under his breath and the erotic mention of your name.
"Noona, I want you to ride me." He whispered. His words sending shivers down your body and setting it aflame. He grabbed you by the waist and switched your positions, leaving you on top of him and straddling his lap. You wanted to look at his handsome face contorting in bliss, you wanted to watch his face when those pretty moans left his lips, and that’s what made you enjoy the idea even more since he had been in charge for a while. He looked at you with hooded eyes, chest rising and lowering in pants. Clasping your hand around his length, you put him back in and sat down on his girth. He gasped as his hands flew to your hips, helping you rock your them against hit, instantly hitting the right spots. You supported yourself with your hands on top of his chest, keeping a smooth pace.
“Shit. You take me so well, you feel so good.” He grunted, sliding his hands up to knead on your breasts. Whimpers leaving your mouth and teeth sinking on your lips as you enjoyed the view underneath you.
When his climax started to approach, his moans became louder. His eyes pressed shut and his beautiful and swollen lips agape. The expressions and sounds he made took you to the edge.
"I'm so close baby, so close." You cried out.
"Cum for me, noona. All over me." He hissed, triggering you orgasm and making you cum on him. The feeling of your walls tightening was all he needed to reach his peak, releasing his warm seed inside of you along with a throaty groan. Your movements became sloppy and he thrusted against you to help you both to ride out of your highs.
Exhausted, you collapsed on top of his now sweaty chest. He wrapped his arm around you as he tried to catch his breath. You looked at him, melting as soon as he smiled and his dimples showed up, foxy eyes making your chest swell. And oh my gosh, was he beautiful. He was the prettiest human you had ever seen, not to mention that his after sex look made him at least a thousand times more ethereal.
“I’m so in love with you, noona.”
You smiled tiredly, brushing his bangs away from his forehead with your fingers, placing a soft kiss on his lips.
“You made me feel amazing.” You responded. “I’m all yours.”
He cupped your face with his hands,kissing you again.
“All mine.”
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The sunlight entered your bedroom straight through your window, hitting your closed eyes and waking you up. You stretched your body and turned your head, eyes landing on the man next to you. He was peacefully sleeping on his back, a hand resting on his torso and his head slightly turned towards you. His breath was steady, relaxed, innocent. Almost as if your bodies hadn’t been like two poles united by passion.
You turned your body to lay on your side, propping on your elbow and resting your head on the palm of your hand. You stared at him lovingly, he was so mesmerizing, flawless and hypnotizing you so effortlessly. His skin was glowing with the rays of sun, looking soft like a porcelain doll, velvetish and tempting to the touch.
A smile formed on your lips, feeling an overwhelming wave of love filling your chest at the memories from the night before. Now that you had come to terms with your true feelings, you realized those said feelings were a lot stronger than you would’ve thought.
You moved your left hand and brought it to his hair, crading your fingers through it gently and brushing his bangs to the side with your fingers. Your touch was as subtle as possible, trying not to wake him up.
“I never knew I could feel this much.” You admitted quietly, smiling as you admired his existence. “Turns out you ended up awakening my feelings and now I feel like I’m head over heels. What am I supposed to do now that you’re laying beside me and I still can’t get enough of it?” You added. Your heart burned inside your chest, you were shocked by how fast things had changed, escalated.
Surprisingly, a smile formed on his lips. Your brows furrowed together until he opened his eyes and looked at you. Before you could say something else, he sat up and pushed you to lay on your back, hovering over you, cupping your face with his hands. A beautiful grin adorned with his dimples was plastered on his face, his eyes turned into a little crescent, glowing moons.
“Hi." He smiled, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I can’t get enough of you either. Don’t worry, if there’s someone head over heels here, that’s me. There’s no world around me, the only thing I see is you.”
You felt the heat covering your cheeks and the butterflies in your stomach taking flight. You placed your hand on top of his, dragging your fingers slowly, caressing his arm as well. A big smile forming on your lips, biting the lower one in a failed try to stop yourself from smiling.
“Since when are you awake?” You asked.
He hummed, looking away like he was deep in thought.
“It’s been a while.” He confessed, looking back at you. “But you know what? I’m glad I didn’t say anything.” He continued, placing a kiss on top of your nose. “I love you, noona.” He added.
You sucked air between your teeth as you cupped his face as well.
“I love you too.” You admitted. “You’re so pretty, fuck.” You added, making him chuckle before he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a warm kiss.
You two kissed, smiling and chuckling in between kisses. Sparks going all over your body, until you heard the door swing open.
“y/n, do you know where Je-” You heard Felix’s voice coming from the entrance of your room, startling the both of you and making Jeongin jump off you.
Felix’s eyes widened in shock, but it didn’t compare to the horror in yours and Jeongin’s face.
“Felix, why don’t you knock on the fucking door?” You shouted, covering yourself with the white sheets.
“What the fuck is this?” Felix asked, ignoring your question as he looked at the both of you, betrayal in his features, clearly mad especially at Jeongin who was now standing in his underwear next to the bed, then he shook his head. “Hell no. I’m out.” He said, turning around and storming out of your room.
Jeongin looked at you with concern. You sighed.
“I think we better get dressed and meet downstairs.” You said. Jeongin nodded in agreement.
You stood up from your bed and washed up, dressing in a pair of shorts and a random top you found in your closet. When you made your way downstairs, Jeongin was leaning against the doorframe of the living room, with a not so happy Felix sitting on the couch without looking back at him.
“I tried to talk to him, but he doesn’t want to listen,” Jeongin said to you. You rubbed his arm gently and offered an apologetic smile at him.
“It’s okay. I’ll talk to him and we can meet later, okay?”
Jeongin gave you a small smile and a nod, leaning down to place a soft peck on your forehead before he grabbed his stuff and walked out of the house.
You turned your attention back to your brother, taking a deep breath and entering the room to stand in front of him.
“This is not the way you were supposed to know.” You said, arms folded in front of your chest.
“Know what? That my best friend was fucking my sister?” He said, not looking back at you as he scrolled down on his phone.
“Gosh Felix, don’t be so vulgar. It’s not like that.” You said, sitting on the empty spot next to him. He looked up and cocked a brow at you.
“Two people naked on the same bed, one of them all over the other one, hands roaming down their bodies...” He hummed. “Yeah, I think that’s exactly how it is.” He continued. “Since when do you like him? You’ve been rejecting him since I can remember.”
You sighed.
“I... I always liked him, Felix. I was just trying to deny it to myself.”
He frowned.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me? Did I have to find out this way? Was it necessary?”
You shook your head.
“It all happened yesterday...”
He looked at you, brows still furrowed until realization hit him.
“Yesterday?” He asked. “Fuck, I left you two alone.” He said, running his palm over his face before he looked at you dead in the eyes. “y/n, did he force you or something?”
“Felix, what the fuck? Of course not!” You assured. “You’re talking as if you didn’t know him.”
“It’s just... So sudden. I don’t know what to think.”
“Felix...” You grabbed his hand between yours, smiling. “Jeongin has been the sweetest with me. He would never hurt me.”
“Yeah, I mean... He’s been in love with you since forever.” He agreed, looking down at your hands.
“Then don’t you think he deserves a chance? Or would you rather have me dating someone else who none of us know if I’d get hurt by?”
He shook his head.
“No. I know he would treat you right. I’m just mad that you never told me how you felt. You always treated him like a brother, and now it seems like everything was different. I was fooled because you didn’t trust me. You both hid this from me.”
“I’m sorry about that... As I said, I hadn't even faced my feelings either, until last night.” You repeated. “I like him. I want to date him, be with him.”
Felix looked at you and sighed.
“If that’s what makes you happy, then okay.” He said. “Although this means he’s going to be your favorite now.”
You grinned, wrapping him in a tight hug. You turned your head and placed a kiss on his cheek.
“Don’t be silly, you will always be my baby brother. I love you and that’s never gonna change. Besides, he’s not my brother, he’s my boyfriend. You should go and talk to him, let him know that it’s all good.”
He rubbed your back.
“Will do.”
You pulled back and stood up from your seat, ready to go and make breakfast.
“Oh, and next time make sure to lock the door. I’m going to have nightmares.” He said before you exited the room.
“Why nightmares?”
“I don’t want to think that my best friend is fucking my sister.”
“Oh and he’s so good at it.” You teased. His face scrunched up in disgust.
“Oh god, please stop.” He said, feeling goosebumps. “That’s gross.”
You bursted into laughter as he walked to the door to leave.
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Jeongin and Felix were now sitting on a bench at the park. None of them saying a word or making eye contact.
“I’m sorry.” Jeongin finally said. “I just want you to know that I don’t plan to be just a one-night stand for her.”
Felix turned his head to look at his friend.
“You better not.” He warned. “I hope you treat her right.”
Jeongin smiled.
“You know better than anyone how much I like her.” He said. “I would never do anything to her other than give her love.”
Felix smiled back.
“Then it’s all good for us. I guess we need to find another thing to tease you with.” He chuckled, making Jeongin laugh as well.
“As long as you never mention the room incident.”
Felix shook his head.
“Don’t mention it, I want to erase that from my mind.”
Jeongin laughed and stood up, Felix did as well.
“Thank you.” Jeongin said, stretching out his hand.
Felix smiled, accepting his hand and shaking it, giving him a quick hug with a palm on his back.
“It’s all good, brother.”
That's how the two made their way back to your house, joking around like nothing ever happened. You heard the door cracking open, making you stand up and peek your head on the doorframe. Jeongin grinned at you as soon as he saw you, and you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight hug. His arms wrapped around your waist, caressing your lower back as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.
Felix clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.
"You're acting as if you haven't seen each other in a week."
You turned your head to look at him and stuck your tongue out, making Jeongin chuckle.
"Jealous jerk." You teased.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, just don't do filthy stuff on our couch. I'll take a nap. See you later." He said, waving goodbye and making his way upstairs.
You looked into Jeongin’s eyes, poking his dimple with your finger.
"You're seriously so pretty." You said. "Even prettier than me." You added, pouting.
Jeongin chuckled.
"No one is prettier than you, my noona." He assured. You smiled and tangled your fingers in his hair, pressing your lips against his.
"I'm sorry for taking so long to accept you." You said against his mouth. "I'll make sure to repay you all the wasted time."
He kissed you back. Once. Twice. Thrice, feeling him smile against your lips. He was so happy he couldn't believe it was real. The person who stole his heart years ago had finally looked his way, and he would make sure to always show you how proud he was that you were his.
"Don't worry, noona. It was worth the wait." He said, making your heart melt and causing you to start showering his face with kisses, both of you chuckling.
You regretted making him suffer for so long. He was perfect for you and you were sure you could never get tired of him. Your boyfriend.
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wondlaurora · 2 days ago
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Ok, so I realized that in almost every photoshoot of yunho's, he has this enduring habit of closing his eyes and looking ethereal af. Not that I'm complaining cause he looks hella good and fine as hell though 👀
Disclaimer: Credit to all the owners of these photos. They don't belong to me
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kpop---scenarios · 2 days ago
Cravings || Final (5)
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Previous Chapters
Warnings: Smut, Death, Blood
Word Count: 2.3k
Taglist: @aus-pi-cially @justsomerandomfang1rl @gayliljoong @pikacuuuuuuuu @duaphobia @imaaroy @ilyj1n @tomboy06045 @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @yousaybieberisaybiersack @skittlez-area512 @happyvirus1629 @rindomo @bbc-minji @leicy0756 @btrombley13 @scuzmunkie @dreamlesswonder86 @clownyan @bunnybubkook @kisaraginami @caffeineaddicteddipshit @baby-fairy-yas @mirror-juliet @sunsethw4 @woosk1tten @alliecoady98 @yunhosleftpinky @kpop-khh-writer-trash @perfectlysane24
“Kill him!” Haerin roars, looking at the men surrounding her, but no one moves. You and hongjoong stand there, staring at the raging women who now looks confused as to why no one was following her orders. You notice Jiyong weaves himself through the crowd, now standing in front of her, staring her down. 
“No, haerin.” he says. “I've listened to you about a lot of things but now, this is too far.” he says. “We will not be following you any longer, and you are no longer welcome in this house. We welcomed you in with open arms and you've done nothing but take advantage of us because of your toxic love for hongjoong. He is happy with y/n and you will no longer stand in the way of that.” he shouts. 
You're shocked. Never once did you expect jiyong to be the one to stand up for you and hongjoong but here he was, doing just that. 
“Do you all feel like that?” she scoffs. “Are you all against me?” 
Two men step forward, moving to stand behind her. “We’re with you.” they announce. She smiles widely as she glares at you and hongjoong, his hand resting on your lower back. You could feel the rage beginning to flow through her body as she watches the two of you and sees how much he does not want her. 
“You two..” she pauses, turning around to the men who are sticking with her. “Kill hongjoong.” she demands. The two men looked at eachother and before you were able to react they were racing towards the two of you. Hongjoong quickly pushes you away from him, the two men colliding with his body. The room fills with the sounds of snarls, grunts and hard punches. You were too focused on watching hongjoong taking on the two men, you weren't paying any attention to what haerin was doing. 
Within seconds hongjoong had taken down one of the men, ripping his head clean from his body, tossing it behind him. You turn around, looking at the man you once loved, now dead. Hongjoong focuses on the last man, staring at him with a smirk on his face. 
“Are you sure you want to do this kai?” hongjoong growls. “You're going to end up like Chad.” he spits, nodding his head towards the lifeless and headless man that lays behind him. 
Kai stands up, backing away from hongjoong with his hands up. Hongjoong stands up, looking forward to say something to haerin but she's not there. He looks around to you, and there you stand, haerin has her knife like rings grazing against your neck. She's moving her fingers, tracing the veins of your neck as the metal articulations of each sharp metal tip glisten in the low lit room. 
"Haerin." Hongjoong growls. 
She smiles at him, as you stare at him with fear and worry in your eyes. You don't want to die, you're too young. This wasn't how your life was supposed to go. 
"Now we can be together, with nothing standing in our way." She grins as she slashes your throat, dropping your fearful body to the ground. Haerin continues to look at Hongjoong, who can't believe she did that. He looks down to you, gasping for air as you hold your neck, blood gushing through your fingers. Hongjoong drops to you, knowing what he has to do, the fear of you becoming what he is consumes him, but he would rather have you forever then not at all. Jiyong rushes towards you as well, knowing he needed to help his brother. They each bite into their wrists, forcing their blood to trickle down your throat. 
"Why are you saving her!?" Haerin yells. "I did this for us!" She screams. 
"End this." Jiyong urges Hongjoong. "I'll take care of Y/N. You know what you need to do." He says before rubbing his blood along the slash in your neck. 
Hongjoong stands up, smiling at Haerin. She holds her arms out to him, your blood still dripping from the tip of her finger ring. He walks towards her, smiling widely. She thinks she's finally won, that he was now hers. 
He reaches Haerin, but instead of embracing her, he swiftly rips her arms from her body. "What are you doing!?" She cries out. 
"I will never love you, Haerin. Your heart is probably as black as your soul once was. Shall we check?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. Haerin's eyes go wide as Hongjoong forces his hand into her chest, ripping it out of her, causing her to collapse to the floor. "I despise you." He spits as his foot crushes her neck. He grabs a clump of hair, pulling as hard as he can, ripping her head from her body. 
Satisfied, Hongjoong makes his way back to you. He stops, looking at Kai and Mark. "Burn the bitch." He says before he goes to you. 
"Will she live?" He asks Jiyong. 
"Only time will tell.. you know the risks." He says. Hongjoong looks at your body laying on the floor. Your wound was almost healed, but how would you be if you woke up? Would you wake up? 
Hongjoong scoops your body up, passing by the two men dragging the remains of Haerin to the burning pit outside. He brings you upstairs to the same room you had stayed in that one night. He laid your body on the bed, covering you up with the blankets, and he would sit there until you woke up. 
One week.
Seven days. 
Hongjoong hadn't left your side for seven days, and he was filled with panic and worry every hour of every day. At this point he truly didn't think that you would wake up, and he would suffer forever knowing that it was his fault that you didn't make it. He should have taken you somewhere, or protected you better. Had he not listened to what you said and left you alone, he would have been there when Chad took you. He could have ended things then but he didn't, and he would never forgive himself. 
He took your hand, holding it tightly as he lowered his head, hoping that you would soon open your beautiful eyes and say something to him. 
"Are you crying?" He hears you ask. His head shoots up as you look at him with a giant smile on your face. Hongjoong's face lights up, he grabs your face, kissing you hard before just staring at you. 
"How are you? How do you feel?" He asks. 
"I feel great." You laugh, getting out of the bed. 
"Take it easy, Y/N." Hongjoong laughs as he watches you walk around the room. 
"Honestly, I have never felt this good. Wow." You say, stretching your arms. "And might I say, you look damn fine." You tell him, biting your bottom lip. You walk over to Hongjoong, climbing onto his lap to straddle him and wrap your arms around his neck. "Why don't you show me how happy you are to have me back." You whisper into his ear. 
Hongjoong groans loudly, desperately wanting to take you up on your offer. But he knew better. You needed to wait to see what kind of side effects you had from his and Jiyongs blood. 
"Are you hungry?" He asks, standing up and placing you on your feet on the ground. 
"Starving, actually." You smile. "I really want a steak. Just barely cooked, bloody but warm." You say to Hongjoong before groaning. "Oh my god, that sounds so good." You moan, skipping out of the room and down the stairs. 
You're a little quicker than you used to be, Hongjoong notices. 
Over the next few weeks, Hongjoong notices a few differences with you. You had quicker reflexes, especially when catching something, or sparing. You had a deserve for far undercooked food, with a little bit of warmth, you wanted the blood soaking out. Your sight and your hearing were far better then it was before but you didn't want to drink human blood, which was a bit of a relief to him. 
Although there was one thing that Hongjoong noticed more than anything. Your sex drive was absolutely through the roof. The poor men that were in the house were terrified to be around you because you flirted so heavily, trying to get anything from them. Hongjoong often had to save them from you, and keep you in a separate part of the house. 
That night you came out of the shower, seeing Hongjoong sitting on the bed. You drop the towel to the floor, smirking at the man who was dumbfounded, staring at you, not sure what to do. 
"Come on, you need to sleep." He says, opening the blanket for you to crawl in. 
"Why? Why won't you fuck me?" You yell. "I've been trying everything, even making you jealous. My pussy feels like it's going to explode. Be a fucking man, and fuck me! Or I'll go to Jiyong, I'm sure he'd like to get his dick wet." You yell. 
That did it. Hongjoong was pissed. How dare you threaten to go to his brother to get laid? 
"You wouldn't fucking dare." Hongjoong growls. You just smile and shrug your shoulders. You would never actually do that to Hongjoong but you were desperate for him to touch you. 
He stands up, stalking towards you. He stops right in front of you, staring you down. He grabs your wrist, dragging you to the bed before pushing you down. "Spread your fucking legs." He demands. 
He was so fucking hot. You loved the way he took control. With your feet on the bed, you open up your legs, your scent is strong. Hongjoong licked his lips as he dropped down to his knees. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, before he begins peppering small kisses on the inside of your thighs, slowly getting closer to your pussy, but then moving away, making you cry out in frustration. 
"Please. Please do something." You beg. 
Hongjoong chuckles, but doesn't say anything, just continuing to do what he was doing. He then starts slowly kissing and licking, so softly, all around your vagina and clit. The edge of his lips making the smallest amount of contact with your vagina and clit as he moved his way around, constantly teasing you. 
He sticks out his tongue, lowering his head before he slowly begins to lick up your pussy, the tip of his tongue just grazing over your clit as he moves from bottom to top, taking his head away to do it again. You weren't getting what you needed. He was torturing you, probably due to your comment about Jiyong. 
"I'm sorry!" You yell. "I'm sorry about what I said about Jiyong, just please, please give me more, I need more." You cry. 
"Thank you." Hongjoong says, now spreading your lips as he wraps his lips around your clit. He begins sucking hard, making you arch your back and grab onto the sheets. He places your legs over his shoulders as he pauses sucking, your clit still in his mouth but now he is running the tip of his tongue over it. 
"Fuck. Oh my god." You yell. You begin thrusting your hips, dying for your orgasm to hit. 
Hongjoong continues to go back and forth from licking and sucking, slurping up the juices that were spilling out of you. You grab your breasts, pinching your nipping as he continues to devour your pussy. "I'm gonna cum." You scream out. Your orgam hits harder than you've ever felt before, you cry out, loudly, heaving in your bed as he pulls away from you, licking your cum from his lips. 
You don't say anything, you lay there trying to catch your breath as he unzips his pants, quickly discarding them. He rips your legs open, positioning himself in front of you, ready to push into you. 
"I need.. a minute." You breathe. 
"I don't think so, baby girl." He huffs, shoving his cock inside of you. You yell out as his hard dick stretches you out. He holds your legs in the air as he pounds himself into you, the sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, as well as the grunts and moans coming from both of you. Hongjoong leans forward between your legs, wrapping his large hand around your throat, pushing you into the mattress as his thrusts become harder and faster. 
"You're mine baby. Don't go around threatening to fuck anyone else, got it?" He grunts, slowly sliding in and out of you. 
"Yes, yes, I'm yours." You cry out. "Just fuck me faster, please." You beg. 
"As you wish." He grunts, pounding himself into you. He reaches between your lips, placing his thumb on your clit, rubbing it as he continues to slide in and out of you. 
"Oh god." You moan, you can feel your orgasm building up again. You squirm beneath him, he picks up his pace, fucking you so hard the headboard continously slams against the wall. 
"Cum for me, for only me." He grunts, rubbing your clit faster. 
You clench your pussy around him, making him gasp as you cum all over his cock. Hongjoong thrusts a few more times before he releases himself into you, coating your walls with his cum. 
He pulls out of you, both of your chests heaving as he snuggles into you, your sweaty bodies tangling together. 
As the two of you lay together, Hongjoong snuggles in closer to you. He breathes in your scent, taking in all of it. 
"Are you okay?" He asks. "Like really okay? I've noticed some changes with you. You're faster, the bloody meat, your vision and hearing, your reflexes.." he trails off. 
"I've noticed it all too. I don't know if I'm okay, but I'm trying to figure it out." You admit. 
"That's why you can't take anymore blood, if you did it would likely change you. So you need to be safe, okay?" He whispers. "I'll always protect you but you need to be safe too." 
You lay there silent, as Hongjoong, the love of your life cuddles into you, and you're left wondering, would it be so bad if you turned?
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moonie-lili · 16 hours ago
what did you say?
| park jay | best friends to lovers | fluff | Drabble |
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"Jay....have you ever thought about us?", you say to your best friend eating beside you.
he almost chokes on his food and your eyes widen as you try to calm his fit of coughs.
"never mind forget it" , you kick a stone that was near your leg and pout to yourself
"no. seriously y/n. What did you say?"
"nothing. geez."
"I know that wasn't nothing. oh c'mon you gotta tell meeeee", he whined and you sigh, knowing you cant resist him anymore.
"fine. I asked if you had ever thought about us."
he tilted his head, confused
"what are you on about, I always think about us dummy", he says, smiling a bit.
"no. I meant like, as more than friends...", your voice goes down at the end of the sentence and you cant look him in the eye
he goes silent
oh no what have I done
"yeah. I have. why?"
you jerk your head towards him. did he actually-
he smiles at you
"yeah. a lot actually. more than I should."
you can feel your heartbeat rising as he comes closer to you and cups your cheek.
"why d'you ask?"
you blush and find a new interest in your shoes and you start fiddling with you hands
"n-no um I was just a-asking you know? I was c-curious."
"really? thats all?" he asks you with a smirk
"yeah thats all"
"okay then. this shouldn't affect you right?"
you look at him in confusion but then stop as he kisses the corner of your lips, almost touching the place you wished he did.
you gasp.
he pulls back.
"what? that didnt affect you right? since you were just curious?"
"Today, 6 o' clock. Our usual place. wear something warm okay?", he says and gives you a peck on your forehead and walks off into the distance, leaving you staring at his disappearing figure.
you looked like a lost puppy
on cloud nine
was this the start of something new?
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ravenori · 14 hours ago
somebody to you. (teaser)
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“y/n! how are you!!” sunoo exclaimed as he walked towards you. with a couple of books and documents, you waved your hand at your best friend, who seemed to be so ecstatic on seeing you. his sight fell on a small pile of coloured post-its and letters above your textbook, and he asked, “oh, what are those?”
“these? someone has been keeping letters in my locker, i don't know who though” you glanced at the sheets, intrigued by the pretty handwriting of the sender. “all of them have a butterfly sticker on. strange.” soon after, sunoo pulled you to your class and suggested you not to think too much about them. “it's only obvious because you're so popular.” yet in some corner of your mind, you really wanted to find out who the person was. the one who stuck butterfly stickers on the letters.
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– 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩 : 𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙣, 𝙞’𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪.
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tags : shy!heeseung, student council president!reader, heeseung x fem!reader, FLUFF. lowercase intended.
©RAVENORI (ctto of the photo)
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cafe-jeno · 19 hours ago
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jaemin x reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: established relationship, attempt at humor 𝐖𝐂: 0.9k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: cursing, it's really just a word dump
𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @ofaffectionate @akira-star @just-a-demi-bean @eeunoia @yourlocalhotgf @excuji-me-but-this-is-my-shiteu @soft-black-teabag @lost-leopard-beanie @spookybias @oifelixcmerebrou @twntycm  @bluejayjay @soyatenada @seuomo @weuschoiceheart @many-gay-magpies   @loveseungz @sunghoonseyebrowcult @imdamconfused @armysantiny @honeyseungz @jenossslut @jakeytiddy
𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒: @ficscafe @kokonomi @multifandomnet @kpclub @prism-nw
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Sometimes, Jaemin wonders what would happen if he hadn't met you. Would he still be the clueless boy who knew nothing about love? Would he still be the boy who thought he didn't deserve love? That someone would instantly leave him once he admits his insecurities about wanting to make sure that he hadn't misunderstood anything. He doesn't know. Frankly, he doesn't think he wants to know. Because he can't imagine his life without you. How could he? After all, his life started when you came into his life. 
He never knew how much he needed you in his life. How much you had helped him change into a better and brighter version of himself. He is and always will be thankful for you.
….maybe, not right now, though.
"C'mon Jaemin, let's get one, please!!!" Whining, you follow the said man around the house, hoping that your eagerness and puppy eyes would make him melt and give in to all your wants. You were cunning that way and it always worked before. Jaemin knew that and he was a victim of it. After all, who could say no to you? 
However, this request of yours is somehow the only one he won't agree to, that too stubborn about and you were curious as to why.
"We can't, baby. You know that the apartment complex doesn't allow pets. Did you forget?" 
Oh yeah, now you remember why. You both had moved in together right after college with no issues as you already had started to work at the famous cafe near your house and Jaemin had gotten his internship at the company he wanted to work at. Both of you had well-paying jobs and your parents didn't mind it, they encouraged it. The only problem was that you loved pets and the complex didn't allow pets. 
Jaemin didn't tell you that knowing how dramatic you could get if anyone said, 'No Pets'.
("It's blasphemy! How can people hate dogs? They're creatures the people above have sent us with much trust and we dare to hate them?! Outrageous."
".....Babe, I was asking what keychains you wanted.")
"We could just, you know, not tell them." you proposed, despite knowing how dumb that sounded. Jaemin stops in his tracks to look at you with an incredulous gaze. He knew that he owned all of the brain cells in this relationship but he also didn't expect you to be that dumb. 
"What are you, James Bond? You can't lie even if your life depended on it." 
"Can too! I've just fooled you enough to make you think I'm a terrible liar."
"No offence, babe, but the only person you're fooling is yourself."
You chuck a pillow at him in annoyance, him dodging it with ease. That's what happens when you've been with each other for too long, every move just becomes very predictable at a certain point in your life. You fall face front onto the bed and huff in defeat. Why, oh why, did you choose to date a smartass?
You ranked 14th in school out of 30 students. How could you forget?
You felt a hand stroking your back gently and slowly felt the internal debate in your head dissipate. Maybe, this was why. This was why you were with someone this surreal. Because even if Jaemin would be the one to make you jump into the river at times, he would also be the reason you choose not to drown. It's a unique comparison but that's what their relationship is. Unique. It's them and neither of them could ask for anything more. 
"Hey…." He plops next to you, the pillow squishing his right cheek making him look like a cute chipmunk. 
"Hey yourself, hoe." You retort. That was your thing, cursing at him when he was about to get sappy on you. Jaemin despised it yet never told you to stop, knowing your swearing habit won't ever go away. It didn't mean that he wouldn't get back at you for it. He pinches your sides causing you to let out a scream-worthy enough to join the dolphins. Chenle should be scared.
"That hurts!" 
"My heart does too."
"I hate you." You huff as you rub the side you were tortured at. 
"Sure, you do." Leaving a peck on your lips, he gets up and continues to arrange the study desk he had bought on Amazon. 
"I mean it. You don't get me a pet, you pinch my sides and you judge my lying skills. I want a divorce."
"We aren't married."
"I want a divorce right after we get married, then."
"I'll have the papers ready, then." He turns around bestowing a cheeky grin. Oh, how you wish to punch him.
"You know, I'd break your arm but then your mom would hate me for it. And I won't get homemade food, then."
A giggle leaves his lips as he crouches down to fix the bolts of the leg of the desk. "You know you can just learn how to cook."
You throw your head back onto the pillow and stare at the ceiling as you respond. "Yeah, but I like yours better anyway."
"That's sweet of you to say. Thank you."
You smirk in delight as you turn your body to face him fully. "Does this mean we can get a dog?"
"If it didn't work the first time, it won't work this time either." He groans as he gets up from his place on the floor. 
You sigh in defeat once again. "Worth a try."
"Was it, though? Was it, really?" 
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vvshere · a day ago
Claw To Bullet Chapter 37 Golden Tiger
Summary: They were your family. Until Taeyong gave you that damn mission.
Genre: NCT Mafia AU!
Warnings:  Angst, language, lmk if I forgot sth
@je0ngjaehyun @kpopnightingale @yasmini24 @sweetmoonlight9 @andrea-chanel @sunjayluv @morklee02 @xiaojunssexyeyebrows @choidokim @everrrlasting @kimy-nctzen06 @oh-itsnothing @tyongpoetry @taeil123-blog @miinamalist @12am-musings @jung-breadshop @lovingvanna @rensunjun @01junnie10 @megdoienalds @honeyyypeach @lostheretics @ikuncthevision @sanislifealways @whysoserioussssss @pewpewpwe00 @jakeycore @urlocalnctstan @exfolitae @t-k-b-z @xcharlottemikaelsonx @yunho-leeknow @fifty-shades-of-mischeif @notyourwriteer @avianawrites @ne0yong
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Taeyong smirked as he crossed his arms while smirking. He slowly walked towards the couch with his heels echoing in the drawing-room. He turned around with a smooth move and sat down on the couch, grabbing the sides.
"It feels good to be right."
"What are you talking about?"
Taeyong tilted his head as he looked up to Taeil. There was no way that Tail didn't know what was he talking about.
"I told all of you that Scar was alive. Thousands of times. And you all-"
Taeyong pointed at them one by one.
"Treated me as a lunatic."
Ten rolled his eyes.
"Taeyong, she is not Scar."
"Oh yeah? How come she knows everything about us?"
"She searched-"
"Don't tell me you believed that 'I searched beforehand' lie. No matter how much she searched, there are things that she can't know."
"Everything she said could've been found by doing research."
"In this short span of time?"
Taeyong chuckled and leaned his head back to watch the ceiling.
"She came back home. Finally. I knew that our Scar wouldn't leave us."
"Even if she's Scar-"
Jaemin's low voice was enough to gather the attention since no one dared to speak. Taeyong straightened his back and looked at Jaemin.
"She is not here to have a reunion with her family."
Taeyong frowned. Everyone's body was now facing Jaemin.
"She is here to get revenge from her killers."
His scared eyes shakily looked at other members. He felt suffocating as he felt the urge to look down.
"And she blames us for her death."
"Your name is Han, right?"
"Yes, my lady."
"Please, call me Jihyo. I might be Taesuk's daughter, but I didn't grow up in luxury."
"How dare I?"
"Do it to make me more comfortable in this new environment, hm?"
You turned to him and winked. The butler stopped and pointed at the room.
"This will be your room from now on, Lady Jihyo-"
"Just Jihyo."
You reminded him with a smile. Han nodded while smiling.
"Please let me know if you find anything unpleasant."
Before he could walk away, you stopped him.
"Can I request something?"
Han looked in your eyes with curiosity.
"I'd be delighted to assist you."
"I would like to see Scar's room."
Han's eyes widened at your request. He panicked as he looked down.
"I'm afraid I can't fulfill that request. The entry to Mrs. Scar's room is prohibited by masters-"
You grabbed his arm gently and gave it a little squeeze while you smiled wryly.
"I have nothing left from her. Please, just ten minutes."
The butler bit inside of his lip, not knowing what to say. You leaned forward and shut your last shot.
"They don't have to know."
While you were saying this, there was a sinister smile on your face that disappeared as soon as you stepped back. The innocent and wry smile was back. Han sighed as he shook his head.
"Please follow me."
When he turned his back, you smirked. As you got closer to the room, you started hearing a faint nostalgic song. The walls matched your memories. With your every step, breathing got harder. The butler stopped in front of the familiar door.
"Here it is."
You gulped as your fingers ghosted over the door. With a fragile voice, you asked the butler.
"Can you leave me alone?"
"Just ten minutes. Please."
Han looked at you with pity and took a key from his inside pocket. The room didn't smell like you used to know. It smelled like emptiness. You entered the room, and the door closed after you. It wasn't dusty. They must clean it regularly. But mourning white sheets covered every item. Your hand grasped the sheet on the dresser as your breaths got heavier. You desperately pulled it down, hoping to find something. Nothing. What did you expect? You got rid of every object in this room. Still, part of you begged to find the remaining of your past life. You walked towards the bed, this time pulling the sheet calmly. You sat on the bed. A familiar comfort hugged you. The wall in front of the bed had some holes. Remainings of your nightmares. You smiled sadly as you walked towards them. Your hand felt the roughness. You closed your eyes, waiting for those memories to rush. No, the locked feelings stayed under the shadows and left you empty-handed. You walked towards the mirror and pulled the sheet. Again, nothing. Just a stranger's reflection in the core of your past. It was stupid to come here. Not waiting for ten minutes to be completed, you rushed outside of the room and slammed the door.
"Jihyo, is everything-"
You didn't even hear nor see Renjun as you quickly passed him. He looked after you, wondering what happened. Once he turned his gaze, he realized which room you left. Renjun slowly got closer to the door, his fingers lingered around the doorknob, but he lacked the courage to enter. He sighed and walked away.
You tightened the belt of your black blazer jacket. A tiger snake curled from bottom right to up left. You tied your hair tightly and put on some perfume. That was when you heard the knock on the door.
"Come on in."
"Lady Jihyo, the dinner is ready. I'm asked to assist you to the dining room."
You looked at the maid's reflection on the mirror. You fixed your lipgloss and stood up. She brought you to the big room. Han held your chair for you to sit. It was next to Taeil and Yuta sat in front of you, your previous seat. You smirked and brought water glass to your lips.
"It's a good jacket."
Jaehyun complimented your jacket with a smirk on his face.
"It's familiar."
Yuta couraged him as everyone looked at the tiger. You smiled.
"Thank you. I hope Scar also liked it."
You said with a thoughtful expression.
"I gifted her the reversed one. I hope she wore it at least once."
You glanced down as one of the maids filled your other glass with wine. You took it and raised it.
"To Scar. May her soul rest in peace."
You daringly looked at Taeyong. He felt uncomfortable. Jaemin was right after all. No matter who you were, you were here for revenge.
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minmindreams · 12 hours ago
Monsta X wants mirror sex, but you’re embarrassed
In the movie you were watching had a mirror sex scene and he looked at you. “Can we do that sometime?” “No” shot him down. “Why not?” You had to look at him for a moment before answering. “I’m embarrassed.” His face got the extreme confusion. “About what?” “My body…” you mumbled. He took your hand. “Hey, Y/N, look at me” you did “you have nothing to be embarrassed about. I think you’re perfect.” You smiled and wanted to hide in the sofa. “If you don’t want, we don’t have to”  he said taking your under his arms.
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“It’s okay. We don’t have to”, he’d say looking at you trough the mirror as you brushed your hair in your nighty. “I just find you so beautiful, I don’t understand why you don’t see it.” Wonho patted your head and kissed your cheek. “That’s the exact feeling me, and other monbebes had about you when you were insecure darling” you reminded him of his past. “I’m glad you’ve past it now.” You smiled at him though the mirror on your vanity table.
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You had no idea how it came to this. It was just two nights ago when Minhyuk had asked about mirror sex and you said no. It was a firm no cause you disliked your body as it was, but during sex? Hell no. And there you were, not wanting to disappoint him and looking at the big side mirror - which he had brought who knows where - at his firm lean body thrust in to you in cross position. Occasionally he kissed or bit your leg while moaning compliments. You were definitely seeing the upsides of the mirror.
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He’d ask about it during sex while slamming gis hips against your butt, trying it to be casual even though it’s something he’s been wanting since he saw you.   “I don’t want to” you replied. Week later when you were doing make for your date night he’d watch you through the mirror. “Why not? Why don’t you want the.. Mirror thing?” you sighed. “I just don’t.” You were too embarrassed to say you were ashamed of your body and weren’t comfortable enough to expose yourself like that. It would be like having a sex tape. Another week passes and Kihyun asks again. And again. Two months later you tell him why and it seems he understood. He began saying more compliments about your body. More than usually. Then he asked again weeks later. Six months later you gave in and the way he made you feel was spectacular like he had been holding back on his skills.
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“What?” you were stunned by the question. “In front of a mirror?!” “Yes.” “Why? I don’t want to see myself like that. I look horrible during sex” you couldn’t believe the conversation took place during dinner. “You look incredibly sexy, what are you talking about? I want to see your beautiful blissed, fucked out face when I bury my cock in you from behind. Please, just once. Before shower in the bathroom. You can close your eyes.” Hyungwon sounded so serious and you heard his voice change a tone, you recognized that change. He was thinking about it and got turned on. You looked down on your plate and poked your food. His fowl language did turn you on too. You bit your lip thinking about it. If closing eyes was an option… “On two conditions” you mumbled. “I get to keep my eyes closed” you looked at him. “I’ll blindfold you, you won’t see if you want to” his voice sounded excited. “And we do it tonight. Right now.” Hyungwon almost tipped over his glass as he got up. “I’ll get the blind fold.”
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You were in his lap at the studio. Your pants and panties laid next to his on the floor. Your legs worked up and down on his dick with the help of his arms. The slapping noise overpowered the background music. Your grunts were muffled as you tried to keep quiet. “Y/N, babe, look on the right” he breathed. You did and saw the little shoe mirror you see in stores. “See, how good you look? Can we once do this in front of a big–” he moaned “big mirror?” From your angle you only saw Jooheon. “Fuck, I’m close” he grunted and slipped his fingers in your folds. He was excellent in fingering and in no time you were gasping and letting out pleasured moans. “Babe, you didn’t answer? Can we?” “Can I answer when you’re not, ah, aah, not fucking me?
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"Remember when we talked about trying new things and you said you’ll be okay with almost anything if it’s not gross?” Changkyun said as he arrived home. “Um, yes.” You tried to look for his bags, but he had nothing. “Well..” he took a dramatic pose. “Mirrors” he waved his arms to imply them being everywhere. “No!” You protested. “No. I’m not having mirror sex” you were being so strict you surprised yourself. “Why not?” he had the puppy look. “I’m not gonna have mirrors all over the bedroom for that. Don’t you think how that makes me feel? We can’t ever invite people over. No, Changkyun.” “But I already ordered a mirror to the roof.” “WHAT”
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shinescape · 15 hours ago
Unconventional Boyfriend
Hongjoong x Fem Reader
TW: reader have siblings, suggestive content
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“How much longer do we have to wait?”
Your younger sister grumbled in annoyance. You swore she was overreacting considering how it was still early to move out for the trip. Your family has this tradition where you go on a trip for a few days to a place picked by your father or in this case your older brother.
However this time round, things are a bit different. Your siblings asked your parents, more like begged them to let their lovers come for the trip as well. You were the only one against the idea and thought “Why all of a sudden?” when last year they never bothered about it.
Then you found out that they knew you were seeing someone without your parents' acknowledgement. Your sister saw one of Hongjoong’s text messages one time and went to your brother to plot a plan forcing you to break the news. It was a very petty move and you were still upset about it.
Your parents were shocked when you told them you we’re seeing someone and concluded that he should join in for the trip as well. Thus, here you were waiting for his arrival with everyone else in the living room. You started to get annoyed with your sister that you wanted to call Hongjoong and asked where he was when he called you first instead.
“He’s here!” You said out loud as you answered the phone and left the house. Everyone hurriedly took their belongings and followed you out, excited to leave for the long awaited trip. “Have you seen him before? Is he good looking?” Your mother asked your siblings to which they shrugged in unison.
Once all of them went out, they never expected to see such a person as your lover. You were talking with Honjoong by the car, intertwined hands swung beside each other not caring about the six pairs of eyes watching from the porch. “Is that him? It can’t be…” Your mother had a hand over her mouth as she took in the sight of both of you.
Hongjoong’s hair was as bright as could be and he was wearing his favourite overalls with a red shirt underneath. Your father’s voice made you pull your hands from Hongjoong’s as a habit, knowing how your father loves to act tough in front of strangers, especially a lover of his children.
“Nice to meet you.” He eyed your boyfriend from head to toe before looking over at you. You were nervous but being swayed by his demeanor was not something you had in mind. “This is Hongjoong, my boyfriend.” Hongjoong greeted and introduced himself with the smile that had made you fall for him since the first time.
He was nervous but a natural when it comes to dealing with people. He saw your other family members and greeted them as well. “So what do you do for a living, son?” You instantly glared at your father as if saying “Not now, please stop it.” But like any father figure he wasn’t intimidated one bit by you.
“Oh, I have a workshop. It’s not that big but I’m proud of it.” Hongjoong smiled again and noticed how you tried to make him stop by tugging on his sleeves.
“Oh a workshop, what kind? Cars or bikes?” You had a feeling this conversation is not going to end well but didn’t know what to say to make it stop, to make your father stop.
“Oh it’s an art workshop. I deal with arts and the like.” You had to stifle a laugh as you watched your father’s face morphed from a smug to something you would describe as blatantly surprised.
“Okay that’s enough intro I think. Time to hit the road!” You smiled at your father before pulling your boyfriend away.
Soon after, you noticed that your brother’s girlfriend and your sister were gawking at Hongjoong from the side as he spoke to your mother. She seemed to like him a little bit after mentioning that he reforms clothes and accessories.
“Is that really your boyfriend?”
“You didn’t hire him for this trip, right? Like we totally get it if you actually don’t have a boyfriend.” You pulled up a hand to make them stop blabbering and they did.
“I know that both of you actually think he’s really hot and felt guilty thinking so but you don’t have to make up random scenarios and think we’re fake dating each other. It’s not nice, girls.”
Another forced smile from you as you went to Hongjoong and told him that you’ll ride in his car which he nodded mindlessly unaware about your uneasiness at the moment.
Your brother protested saying that there would be too many cars but you stood firm with your words. Getting in the car, you typed in the destination on the screen and leaned back.
Hongjoong finally noticed something was wrong and placed a hand on your thigh. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” You watch as your family drove off to the main road and turned to him with a frown.
“I’m going to protect you from everyone in that car. Don’t try to stop me.”
“ this why you’re frowning? Don’t worry, I’m fine. They can’t hurt me cause dating you is painful enough.” You were astonished at his words and went to smack him when he started to drive off, following your father’s car. “Painfully amazing.” He laughed which made you stop hitting him by then.
Arriving at the guesthouse hours later, the girls ran into the house after your brother unlocked and went up to claim the bedrooms. You could not be bothered and went to the kitchen instead. Hongjoong was in the living room with the other males that were present.
You tried to drag him with you everywhere but he assured you that he was fine. During dinner time, you noticed how the two girls appeared as if they were upset with something.
You got curious and wanted to ask when your brother answered your curiosity instead. “Your room with Hongjoong is at the end of the hallway on the left. You girls share a room and both of us will share a room, everyone clear?” He clung an arm to your sister’s boyfriend who just smiled, clearly not sensing the dark aura coming from the other side of the table.
You wished this trip would end or you’d bailed from it yourself since you came separately anyway but seeing how your parents started to warm up to Hongjoong made you want to stay for his sake. He seemed to be having a good time too.
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Hongjoong woke up to you tossing and turning around in the bed. He watched as you rolled over to where he was and buried your face in his chest. He brought a hand up and caressed your head softly. You took in his scent and smiled in his hold. “You smell so nice.”
The vibration from your voice tickled him as he held your face in his hand and tilted it up slightly to place a kiss on your nose. “And you need to get up.” His voice was the only thing you were hearing, not even the loud voices from outside.
A whine left your lips and he chose to kiss them before you started to complain about how both of you could just stay in bed the whole day. Falling for his tricks, you kissed him back with much eagerness, slowly going on top of him. You peppered kisses all over his face.
Hongjoong can’t help but giggle at your actions, liking what he was getting early in the morning. “Why can’t I stay like this with you forever?” Your legs were straddling him as you rested your chin on his chest.
“That’s not possible, sweetie. We can’t cuddle forever.” You weren’t focusing on his words, just listening to his voice and staring at his pretty lips.
You surprised him with a kiss at the corner of his lips, lightly licking it before pulling away and rolled back in the bed. Hongjoong thought you were planning on doing something even more but when you got off from him, confusion was written all over his face.
“You can’t just tease me and do nothing about it, sweetheart. You smiled innocently at him, acting as if you did nothing wrong. You yelped when he suddenly went over you and leaned down to your face, positioning his lips near your ear. “You made me do this so don't blame me if you’re aching for more later on.”
The door burst open all of a sudden as you messily pulled the covers over your boyfriend that was still on top of you. “Uh, we’re going to explore the town, are you coming or...where’s your boyfriend?” Both your sister and your brother’s girlfriend were currently at the door, unaware of what’s going on under the covers.
“He’s still sleeping. Don’t wait for us.” You tried to hold back yourself from groaning and smiled tiredly to the girls. “If you say so. You have the keys too right?”
“I do!” You yelped from the sudden squeeze that came from down under. The girls looked at you weirdly before shutting the door. You pulled the heavy blankets away only to see his face near your belly button. “Hongjoong, that was a close one! What if we got caught?”
Your eyes followed his every move, lowering himself. “Then I’ll make up an excuse.” He placed a kiss on your inner thigh, making your body froze from the contact.
“Your family is starting to like me anyway.” You held your breath as he lapped over your thighs and forced them to stay open.
“Let me explore you first, sweetheart. Then we’ll visit the town all right?”
Your father was right about being suspicious and wary of him. Hongjoong was like candy, sweet and addicting. You taste him once and start craving for more.
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junjijunky · a day ago
his daughter | choi minho | a
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paring : choi minho x male reader
synopsis : there a secret to be told, who knew it was a deep one
warning : explicated language, mention of overdose
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Never in a thousand years would M/n keep a secret from Minho. He told him everything, down to his opinions, feelings, and more. Whether if it hurt him, M/n was always upfront and if he wasn't, it'd bother him until he could finally let it out. But then, he realized that it was a little selfish of him. Because Minho's emotions matter too, and so much to him yet he never expressed it. Call it self-centered, or boastful but M/n didn't care what other people said of his relationship with Minho. That's why when Minho revealed another life in the world, it both scared and shook M/n's heart. M/n could've fainted then and there, seeing a child with the face of Minho with hints of another person incased in her. She was energetic and wasted no time to say hello to M/n even when he was in clear shock. He didn't know what to say, or what to do. So he did nothing and just sat there on the park bench frozen with his fist balled up and his eyes watering. "M/n? Hey... I knew this is a little different but hear me out" "You've been hiding a child from me, Minho, I have nothing to do but hear you out. How could you- No, why did you keep this... from me? Your boyfriend." "I didn't want to, I swear! Believe me, it's been taking a toll on me. This... it's been the worst thing I've done to keep you by my side." M/n's eyes glare into Minho's sorrowful ones. He can tell, Minho's sincere with his worst, but it still hurts. M/n's eyes avert back to the little girl who's sitting on the swing, her black mary janes dragging into the wood chips. She's not swinging, she's just watching the kids run around while lightly moving around. "She's nine and her name is Summer. Her mom named her, of course, because I'm not great with names." M/n's hands clasped together in his lap, he took deep inhales as he listened. "It happened a while ago, her mother had full custody and she had a stepdad." "So you're a deadbeat." "NO! God no. She wanted it and gave it to her. It may have been stupid, but it worked up until now." Minho sighed and shook his head, "She overdosed, she couldn't handle it. So, I took Summer and brought her here, to Busan, to you." "I need some to process this. I'm abandoning you, but this is a lot." "I know, I get it. But I've told summer about you. She thinks you're a fairy, and that you'll help us get where we need to be." "And where's that?" Minho turned his body towards M/n, placing a hand on his. "Anywhere but here."
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rutosruru · 2 days ago
— treasure's legal line reactions when they are drunk ✩
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request — when their drunk with their sober s/o (so the s/o is sober but they're not) if you can't do them, it's totally fine, they're just some ideas i had!
word count — 1710 words
malsh's note — included yedam since he is a part of the legal line lmk if i should take off his part if it's not alright :)
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Hyunsuk, being the oldest, has to always be wary about the youngsters and take care of them. Drinking would be out of the question for him, since he always had to maintain the role model vibe — or that's what he thought. Of course, with you around, you ensured that the man got some time to loosen up.
Drunk Hyunsuk would be two times as fun, and only then would you realise how much the male had been bottling up due to his role of being a leader and the oldest. Some days he'd party hard, the other days you'd hold him as he cried. And you didn't mind it one bit, because Hyunsuk deserved to loosen up.
"Y/N! Come dance!" He'd cheerfully jump around to the music, giggling as he pulled on your hand. "Yeah, let's geddit!" You'd try your best to hold back your laughter as you saw him do the weirdest dances, despite being an idol who was an amazing dancer.
The next day, when you'd show Hyunsuk the videos, he'd be slightly embarrassed, but would have the biggest smile on his face. He'd look at you like you are the most precious thing in the world, hugging you suddenly.
"Thank you for letting me let loose. And thanks for taking care of me. I'm glad to have you by my side."
I feel like Jihoon can handle his alcohol really well, and won't really be drunk. Actually, it's either tipsy or knocked out; there's no in between. If Jihoon was a 100% flirt when sober, then he's double the trouble when there's alcohol in him. Though there are times he gets drunk, but even then, he'd be the same.
His teasing nature would be at its peak, and you'd (as always) be the target. Once at a party, it wasn't even an hour since you arrived, but Jihoon was already drunk, following you around, using dirty pickup lines on you.
"They say kissing is a language of love, so would you mind starting a conversation with me?" He asked drunkenly, and you shook your head, ignoring him as you walked over to the bar, ordering a cola for yourself. He'd let you be for a few minutes before striking again. "I'm on top of things. Would you like to be one of them, baby?"
You found his behaviour amusing until a person approached you and asked if Jihoon was troubling you. "Thank you very much, but that is my boyfriend. He's behaving like an idiot flirt, but I assure you he's like that when he's sober too," you explained, sighing as you looked at him. Jihoon grinned, waving to you excitedly as if he won the lotto.
"You love me and you know it, Y/N! You can't resist this."
Yoshi is going to be one of the members who is cute when drunk. This man just has so much of natural aegyo in him, and I'm pretty sure after a few drinks, they'd definitely come out! He would be so clingy, and I swear, if you don't give him the attention he deserves, I'll steal you from him and will give him all the love!
I feel like Yoshi wouldn't let loose and get drunk at parties, and would rather settle for places he feels comfortable in; like the dorms or your house. When he's tipsy, you'd find him staring at you wherever you went, but when he was drunk, he'd hold on to you so tightly like you'd disappear if he let go.
"Please let me go. Just for a minute!" You pleaded, trying to pull away from Yoshi's tight grip. "Yoshi, I want to go to the washroom! Please let go!" You yelled, your face red from embarrassment.
"Angels don't go to the washroom, Y/N. I may be drunk, I'm not stupid."
Ah, the philosophical one. You are in for the time of your life, my friend. With Junkyu, no second is boring — which also means that you won't even get to rest for a second. Nope, this is unpredictable Kim Junkyu, and we don't know where that road starts or ends.
It's either sitting down and listening to the various conspiracy theories this man has, or running around trying to stop him from doing the craziest things. Like I said, no second with Junkyu is boring. You'd probably be exhausted at the end of the day, but you'd still be fine because you had enough Junkyu content to tease him for an eternity.
"You know, Y/N, I think that alcohol has extra gravity in it," he mumbled as you supported him to walk to your car. "That's why I — oops, there we go — that's why I keep falling down when I have alcohol!" He tripped over his own feet, only proving his theory as you carefully made him sit inside your car.
"From all the crazy things I heard tonight, that's a pretty smart theory, Junkyu," you complimented him, laughing to yourself as Junkyu grinned, not realising the subtle shade within your words.
"Duh, Y/N! I'm so smart, I thought you knew that. You can't find a genius like me anywhere."
Here we have a sane one. Or so you thought. I have classified Mashiho as a 'confident idiot' type of drunk, and I'm sure you'd agree. Although Mashiho doesn't get way drunk, there are moments where he loses control over his alcohol intake, which results in you taking care of him. Everything about him would be normal, it's just he was being a complete idiot.
"Oh, God, Y/N. Hyunsuk-hyung is coming! Quick, act sober!" He warned, eyes widening as he quickly leant against a street lamp. The 'Hyunsuk-hyung' he saw was a tree, but you didn't want to waste your brain-cells explaining that to him. "Wait, no. That's not Hyunsuk-hyung. He isn't that tall," he finalized himself, and you shook your head, holding onto his arm as you two walked home.
Whenever you'd laugh at his behaviour (which was a lot), he'd question if you were drunk — even though it was him. "You are drunk, aren't you, Y/N? That too, on a school night? Wah, wait till I tell this to Jihoon-hyung!" He nagged, completely off his head as he stumbled over his feet.
"Ah, yes. Twenty-year-old sober me is totally drunk on a Saturday, a school night. How scandalous! Jihoon is going to kill me. Wah, I'm so scared."
Yes, cutie number two. But also capable of pulling a Junkyu, so be prepared. Jaehyuk is the mood maker of TREASURE, and naturally, he is one of the smiley members. When he's drunk, Jaehyuk is extra smiley or an emotionless wall; there's no in between.
Sometimes, he's just full of energy and is the life of the party, while the other times you can just see how done he is with his own persona. When you'd see him like that, you wonder whether the smiley Jaehyuk was just a part of his image for the world to see. But then again, he was the same with you, so it wasn't possible. Right?
"I love you," he muttered, pulling you close as you laid your head on his shoulder while he rested his head on top of yours. "Thank you for choosing me. And thank you for staying with me, even when it gets hard." It was times like this you saw the real Jaehyuk, and you'd realise how much you meant to him, seeing as he put his drunk thoughts into words.
"I love you too, Jaehyuk. And I really hope you know that. Thank you for being you, and for giving me all of you. I hope we can be like this forever."
Finally, a man who knows his limits. Asahi would never let himself get drunk, and he has handled a few drunk people, and it has definitely scarred him. There was no way he was going to be so drunk and troublesome to other people. However, if he's in the comfort of his own room, he'd definitely get drunk.
Just for extra precaution, you'd always join him when he gets drunk, giving him company as he released his stress. He's definitely quite talkative when under the influence, and you were all for it.
You watched Asahi as he threw his head, blinking softly at the ceiling. He hummed to himself, and you took out your phone, recording him being his producer self — even when drunk. As you had expected him to, he repeated the tune to himself, satisfied with the melody he had just come up with.
"I need ... to remember that," he grumbled, humming the tune to himself as he searched for his phone. You'd stop recording and show it to the drunk male, victoriously smiling. "Already did. I figured you would want to do that." You laughed, giggling as Asahi pulled you close to him, placing a kiss on your forehead.
"This is why I call you my soulmate. You know me so well, more than I even know myself."
It wasn't long since Yedam started drinking, and he doesn't do it often. As main vocalist, he had to take care of his voice, and alcohol was a no-no, especially since TREASURE was still a rookie group.
But of course, during long breaks, he'd definitely have a few drinks, calling it as 'a lesson to train himself to control his alcohol'. And you'd always be there for his 'lessons' since you knew how much of a lightweight he was. A beer and half a bottle of soju was enough to knock him out, making him lay on his bed as he groaned at the way he felt.
He was new to drinking, so you were on your toes, quickly checking on him whenever he made the smallest noise. "Is there anything you need?" You asked, running your fingers through his hair, turning on the air conditioner for him. "Maybe eating will help. Do you want some food?" You took your phone to check the open restaurants, but was startled when Yedam pulled on your arm, wrapping his arms around you.
"No, nothing. I only want you. Just you ... forever and ever."
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panda-writes-kpop · 2 days ago
Dami - Morning Dew
A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! I decided to put up an extra little drabble since that little MTL thing only took me 5 minutes to make. I hope you enjoy this work that was ironically written at 11 p.m.
TW: None, but can you all tell how hard I simp for this woman.
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You shiver as the morning breeze hits your bare arms.
I didn’t think it was going to be this cold today.
You feel a warm arm wrap around your waist, and you let Dami pull you close as you stare into the sunrise.
“You haven’t been out here for too long, right?” Dami mumbles softly into your ear so only you can hear her.
“It’s only been a few minutes.” You answer back as your eyes focus on the pretty swirls of color in front of you.
It’s amazing how the sky can be so beautiful and enchanting at the same time.
“That’s good. I don’t want you getting sick.” You look back after Dami speaks, only to see that her eyes are focused on you instead of the view.
“I’ll be fine, and if I’m not, then I always have you to take care of me.” You press a soft kiss onto her lips as Dami wraps both of her arms around you. Your lips disconnect with hers after a while, and a smile spreads across your face.
“We should still head inside, just to be sure.” Her face is still inches from yours, and your heart is still racing, but you’re not ready to back down yet.
“I think you’re just making excuses so we can cuddle together.” You jokingly accuse her, and a guilty smile appears on Dami’s face.
“And what’s so wrong with wanting to cuddle with the most beautiful person on Earth?” You blush at her warm compliment.
“Absolutely nothing at all.” You take one last look at the rising sun before letting Dami drag you inside.
I wish I could spend every day like this, with you, and then my life would be complete.
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lueurjun · a day ago
right person, wrong time. bang chan
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“=⌕ bang chan x gn!reader
. . ⇢ LUEURJUN’S NOTES — this is supposed to be gender neutral but if i slipped up at any point then i do sincerely apologise. this isn’t proofread, so there will probably be mistakes and i hope that doesn’t put you off too much. i wrote this on no sleep whilst listening to sad songs, so…:D 
₊❏❜ WARNING ⋮ angsty. 
@2021 lueurjun
gaudy lights illuminate the colossal buildings which you tower above. a life plays out in every window, and you can only hope that they’re having a better night than you are. the september breeze kisses your tear stained cheeks, wafting your hair in different directions with gentle force. 
the rooftop to your apartment building welcomes you with open arms as you drink in the view. your eyes have grown tired from the tears, but you know already that the aching heart that sits behind your rib cage would torment you the whole night, you would rather see the city, than waste time waiting for sleep that won’t come. 
“i knew i would find you up here.” the voice is all too familiar, wrapping around you like your very own comfort blanket. you squeeze your eyes shut. he approaches, but you say nothing. “it’s cold, you might catch a cold.” 
you inhale sharply as his cologne mixes in with the breeze, sweeping over you like a wave in a calm sea. the scent melts you, loosening up your tense muscles and filling you with warmth. he doesn’t push boundaries, keeping a respective distance between your bodies and you dislike the itching disappointment that prods at you. 
he’s quiet for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts so that he doesn’t accidentally say something to upset you further; he doesn’t want to be selfish again. 
“i think you should take the job.” and there it is. had this been forty minutes ago, you would’ve been elated, but how could you be excited when you knew that he wasn’t happy about it? how could you smile when thirty minutes ago, he confessed to  wanting you to stay in seoul with him? “we can make it work. i just want you to be happy and yeah, long distance will be hard but we’ll get there—“ 
you don’t look at him, you can’t. “we should break up, bang chan.” your heart stings, and you nearly cry at the bittersweet realisation that you haven’t just broken his heart, but your own too. 
“what? no. we’re not breaking up, we’re going to make this work!” his voice cracks, and you can’t hold your tears any longer. 
they roll down your cheeks like raindrops on a windowpane—you wipe them away abruptly, and nod as the gut-wrenching acceptance strikes you. 
“we’re breaking up.” your tone is final. 
his pleas fade to quiet cries and you look away, barely able to hold yourself together. 
“we won’t last, and we both know it. why prolong the heartbreak, chan? it’ll only hurt us more in the long run.” 
and he knew you were right. you were all out of fight, and so, he threw his sword down on the battlefield and walked into the awaiting arms of heartbreak. 
you press your lips together in a tight line, and fiddle with the edge of your sweater. he weeps, and you watch with your own silent pain sliding down your cheeks.
right person, wrong time exists. and it hurts like a bitch. 
44 notes · View notes
thepixelelf · 8 hours ago
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Hood Pt. 101 - What Next?
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Creker University has it all — premium education, respected faculty, even a revered partnership with OneAll charity. There's just one problem. A mysterious hooded figure has made it their personal mission to flip CKU's golden reputation on its head. With "Hood's" most recent crusade, people — staff and students alike — are itching to find out exactly who this hooded vigilante is. Little does anyone know, Hood is much more than meets the eye.
taglist: @grassywoozi ​ @solarwonux ​ @clloudonmarz @banhmi07 @diamondsvts @minghaocouture @chaoticdeobi @raethethey @shoshishua @yveseulip @gratefulmaria @uglyratlmao @crimson-chej @haotheheckk @woozisnoots @smileyjisung3 @thati27 @sunlightwoo  @elysianana @chefmingyu @give-seconds @seungsanhun @qveerean @sknyuz @s33saw @binniebutter @escapewriter @muchomango @wavesmp3 @kswflwr @yvesaccharine @chiefturtlebonkghost @hao-ling @lolibaaae @lilacdreams-00 @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @anothershorthuman @artfulbarnes @still-lonely @crispy-chan @bbangsoonie @parfaitz @gyujaehyun @hyunjaethereal @zhongwrldzz @geniejunn @kittkyu @miingxuxi @sweethoneyhansol @tenderfrailty unable to tag bolded users
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inadaydream99 · a day ago
A/N - Hey! This is just something I’ve been slowly working on for a while now. I thought I’d post this while I’m working on requests and also because I think I’m finally happy enough with how it’s turned out ☺️
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It’s amazing how something you usually find so causal and comforting now suddenly puts you on edge. Never before had you felt so uncomfortable being so close in proximity to your best friend Juyeon. The way his arm is linked through yours, his fingers drawing delicate swirls along your forearm as you sit closely together in the dark room, the only light coming from the tv.
Subtle skin-ship is something that Juyeon has done since you’ve know him, a mindless habit he has that, although you’ve never bought up with him, makes you feel safe.
Except for right now. And it’s all Younghoon and Chanhee’s fault.
If they hadn’t teased you about your feelings for Juyeon, or so they adamantly believe, you never would have thought so deeply about every little ounce of contact or interaction between you and your best friend. To put it plainly, you’re insecure because of their opinions.
It’s evident you feel tense, the hairs on your arms raised as goosebumps appear in the wake of the patterns he draws. You’re hyperaware of Juyeon’s fingers as they softly trail along your skin but you’re sure he’s none the wiser to your reaction. From your peripheral vision you can see his wide eyes focused onto the movie playing out on the tv in front of you. You, however, couldn’t care less what was going on, the characters so dull and one dimensional and the plot was so confusing that you didn’t want to even try to keep up with it.
You gasp when out of the blue the scene takes a turn for the more romantic, shifting awkwardly and clearing your throat as you shuffle away from Juyeon a little. You were definitely not expecting for the two main characters to suddenly begin ripping each others clothes off in the animalistic fashion they are; growls and gritted teeth chewing away at the other in an attempt to have an interesting twist on the classic passionate love scene.
You shyly gaze to look at Juyeon, his hands now calmly placed in his lap, having drawn away from you when you’d moved. He’s still fixated on the screen, his expression unreadable and his lips etched in a firm line. You can tell he’s suppressing the awkwardness he feels, judging from the way he gulps. Not that that provides you with any more comfort as you flicker your gaze briefly back to the tv to see that it’s only getting more and more intense.
“I-” you begin, your face growing hot as the moans from the tv begin at the exact same time you decide to speak. “I’m going to get another drink.” You squeak, head bowed low as you hurriedly stand from the sofa and rush away into the safety of the kitchen.
For the first time Juyeon’s focus isn’t on the tv, instead his gaze follows you as you get away. He had no idea the movie he’d chosen to watch had a scene of such nature and the fact that it had so clearly made you uncomfortable worried him.
Closing the fridge and frantically opening the can of soda, you quickly chug as much as you can to calm your nerves. You know you’ve made it too obvious now, Juyeon’s bound to have realised how affected you are and yet, you are really hoping he hasn’t.
Why did you have to let Younghoon and Chanhee get into your head like this! It’s not like they know how you or Juyeon feel about each other. You can think of plenty of friends that have loads of skin-ship, theirs being one of them. And you refuse to admit that Juyeon could feel anything for you that isn’t platonic, so where’s the issue with being close?
“Are you ok (Y/N)?” You jump out of your dizzying thoughts, standing bolt upright as your shocked eyes land on Juyeon’s concerned gaze.
“I’m fine, really.” You meekly smile, “That scene just caught me off guard.” You let out an awkward chuckle afterwards. Neither of you are sure where to look, a silence settling between you that leaves you unsure of what to say next.
You’re not sure how you would describe the feeling you have towards Juyeon in this moment; alien-like possibly? Whatever it is, you know something is off between you. You can tell from the way he’s hardly able to look at you, his eyes constantly flickering back and forth between you and the floor.
Just as you notice Juyeon is about to speak up a sudden burst of noise interrupts. It makes you jump as you hear voices echo around you and the sound of the front door slamming shut a second afterwards.
“If I was trying you never would have won.” Eric rolls his eyes, his comment falling on Jaehyun’s deaf ears as he laughs the youngers jealous comment off. It’s apparent that they’ve gotten into some lighthearted dispute between them on their way back home, not that you can keep your mind focused onto their sassy comments.
You do notice, however, that you find yourself unable to wipe the dazed-like look from your face as you watch them both causally stroll into the kitchen where you and Juyeon are stood and begin opening cupboards, retrieving drinks and snacks without batting an eyelid at you both.
It’s not until their talking simmers down that Jaehyun notices you, his brows instantly furrowing in confusion as he eyes your tense posture.
“What’s going on here?” He tilts his head, gaining Eric’s attention from his phone screen as he leans up on the counter next to him.
“We were just watching a movie.” Juyeon responds quickly and it comes out sounding like an excuse when reality is it’s true.
“In the kitchen?” A devilishly cheeky smirk appears on Jaehyun’s face. “Where there’s no tv?” He adds, an amused laugh escaping him.
“No, in there.” Juyeon points to the living room behind him, his expression the complete opposite of his friend’s.
“Why’s it so awkward between you then?” Your attention flickers to Eric as he narrows his eyes in suspicion. You can sense that he’s sussing things out, and knowing that he is usually quite quick to catch onto these sorts of things, it’s only a matter of time before he blurts something you don’t want to hear.
You cast an unsure gaze to Juyeon, hoping he gets the message from you to quickly turn the conversation away from yourselves.
“We were just having an argument.” Your eyes almost pop out of your head with how wide they go at his sudden excuse. That was definitely not what you were thinking he’d come up with, but really you should have known better than to put Juyeon under pressure like that. It’s never turned out well previously. The only response you can give is a forced laugh, hoping you’ll simply come across as flustered.
You watch Jaehyun and Eric exchange glances before the former speaks up.
“Okayyyy, we’ll leave you to it then.” Jaehyun pushes himself off from leaning back against the counter, making his way out of the kitchen. Eric instantly follows without a word; quite unusual for him, but you do notice the sly wink he sends in Juyeon’s direction as he walks past.
You’re officially dumbfounded. As is Juyeon, judging by the way he creases his brows at Eric in response.
“They definitely think there’s something else going on between us, don’t they.” Juyeon rocks back and forth on his feet, hands stuffed into his jean pockets as you notice him trying to suppress the deep blush that begins to creep up his face.
“Probably.” You shrug. “But there’s not, right?” You shoot your friend a questioning gaze, silence once again settling between you. You instantly regret asking that, your hands becoming more and more clammy as the silent seconds pass.
“It feels like everyone thinks we’re secretly dating though. Just yesterday I had Sangyeon asking me about us.” Ah Sangyeon and his love of love, it always brings a smile to your face whenever you see him get excited by the prospect of it.
It’s incredibly endearing how much of a hopeless romantic he is. You even remember when he “accidentally” made Changmin and Eric kiss as forfeit at the last game night just because he finds it so amusing. And you love that about him. Except when it concerns you and Juyeon.
Instead, it makes you feel somewhat queasy… not in the repulsive way that most people associate the feeling with. But, rather, in a stomach twisting, heartbeat racing, head spinning, euphoric way.
“Pft, that’s ridiculous!” You awkwardly chuckle. Now you’re just as flushed as each other. “I had the same thing with Younghoon and Chanhee too.” You add, hoping that if you keep the conversation going then you won’t focus so much on how hot the room has become.
What you don’t notice, while you begin to ramble away about how persistently annoying that had been, is how Juyeon’s whole demeanour changes. He’s no longer feeling timid about sharing how he truly feels about you because now he can see that you feel the same.
“Is it though?” You freeze upon hearing Juyeon’s question, forced smile falling off your face. “Is it ridiculous?” He repeats for clarity.
You notice how his tone, despite being soft, is serious. His expression matching and his eyes now intently staring into yours.
It’s like being in a trance. You can see him moving closer to you and his arm reaching out to touch yours. But you can’t seem to break away from his stare.
“N-no.” You breath. “It’s not.”
You mimic the warm smile that slowly stretches across Juyeon’s face at your confession, simultaneously noticing the little patterns that he draws on your arm with the pad of this thumb. You instantly relax. Just knowing that he’s not scared is all you need.
“Ew! What were they watching!” You hear Eric shout in disgust, Jaehyun’s laughter following after. They must have seen the scene paused on the tv.
“Maybe we should get out of here before they tease us.” Juyeon suggests, grabbing your hand in his with an elated grin when you nod in agreement.
It’s safe to say that from then on neither of you had to worry about any more accusations from your friends. Although, the incessant teasing and pestering might not go way anytime soon.
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junghelioseok · 8 months ago
it takes two.
↳ struggling with the idea of your ex-boyfriend moving on, you enlist the help of your quiet roommate in a scheme that quickly spirals out of control.
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◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fake dating!au | roommate!au  ◇ 29.8k [1/1]
⇢ full (and by full, i mean less vague) summary: you don’t need retrospect to tell you that dating a coworker was a bad idea. two months after your breakup, he seems to have moved on to someone new—and quite happily, if his social media is to be believed. meanwhile, the only new thing in your life is your roommate, jungkook, who seems nice enough. just nice enough to coax into coming to your company’s annual holiday party, and more than handsome enough to show off a little bit. or, as it turns out, a lot.
notes: my contribution to the once upon a holiday... collab with the lovely @underthejoon​, @fantasybangtan​, @kpopfanfictrash​, @lamourche​, @hobidreams​, and @suga-kookiemonster​! shoutout to @bendthekneetobangtan​ as well, who is the best cheerleader of all time 💕
warnings: this fic is just 3 (dozen) tropes in a trenchcoat, aNd ThEy WeRe RoOmAtEs, slow burn, one (1) awkward boner, tatted!kook, long-haired!kook, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, jk’s big dick, squirting. not as edited as i would like but oh well 🤷🏻‍♀️
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You feel sick.
Your heart stutters in your chest, missing two whole beats before taking off into a strident gallop that hammers dangerously against the slats of your ribcage. Warmth rushes to your cheeks, unbidden, and spreads through your veins like wildfire. Sour bile rises up in your throat, and no matter how you try to swallow it down, it refuses to dissipate—just like the photograph lighting up your phone screen.
The photograph of your ex-boyfriend, his face creased into that familiar dimpled smile and his arm wrapped snugly around his new girlfriend.
Maybe you’re being dramatic, but you imagine that this is what it feels like to witness a car accident or watch a building go up in flames. The sight is horrific, your heart twisting painfully in on itself, and yet you can’t tear yourself away. It’s only when your phone begins to buzz in your hand, the sound loud as a gunshot in the silence, that you break out of your trance. Your best friend’s grinning face eclipses that of your ex-boyfriend and his companion, and you take a moment to gather yourself before swiping to answer.
“Hi, Minnie,” you sigh into the receiver. “What’s up?”
Your best friend, as always, forgoes all preamble. “Did you see it?”
Resignedly, you plop down in one of the chairs in the dining room, propping your chin in your palm. “I saw,” you confirm, your voice small.
Jimin grunts. “Good, because I have thoughts,” he declares bluntly. “She’s not even as pretty as you. And her fashion sense? Atrocious. A crime against humanity. Probably a violation of the Geneva Convention, too. And if not, it should be.”
He’s trying to make you feel better, and you know it. Throughout your years of friendship, Jimin has always been the one to pull you out of the dark places you occasionally find yourself lost in, dragging you out of your spiraling misery and keeping you sane. But today, you’re unwilling to let him drag you out.
Today, you want to wallow.
“She looks nice,” you mumble, putting him on speaker and thumbing back over to the photograph. “Cute, too. I guess it was just a matter of time before he moved on, huh?”
On the other end of the line, Jimin clicks his tongue. “It’s been, what, two months? I say good riddance. Throw the whole man away.”
You snort. “Pretty hard to do when you work with the guy. And please—don’t lecture me again. I know dating a coworker was a bad idea, okay?”
Jimin sighs, and even without seeing him, you know he’s running a frazzled hand through his hair. “Fine, fine. I won’t. But what are you gonna do about the party?”
There it is—the question you’ve been dreading. Every year, your company throws a lavish holiday party, renting out space in one of the fanciest hotels in the city and filling it full of drinks, food, and general merriment. You, like the rest of your colleagues, look forward to it all year, and this Christmas marks your fourth company party. But now that Namjoon won’t be by your side for the festivities, your heart sinks down to somewhere around your toes. “I don’t know yet,” you admit. “Do you think he’ll bring her?”
“Probably,” Jimin answers honestly. “Will you be okay if he does?”
You exhale heavily and wake your phone screen, staring wistfully down at Namjoon’s smiling face. “I don’t know,” you repeat. “Maybe I should just skip.”
Jimin snorts. “What, and wallow in your own misery all night? Absolutely not. You still have a few weeks, right? That’s enough time to secure a hot date to the stupid thing. Show him that you’re not the only one who’s moved on.”
It’s your turn to snort. “You know I’m not ready to start dating again,” you tell him bluntly. “Or have you forgotten about my plan to move to the forest and live with a dozen cats? Why don’t you just come to the party with me instead?”
He hums thoughtfully. “Namjoon knows me, though. You need to go with someone he doesn’t know—someone that will make him wonder. Someone like—”
The front door opens with a bang, cutting Jimin off mid-sentence and revealing your roommate standing in the entryway with flushed cheeks and a sheepish grin. “Hi,” he says, checking the wall behind the door to make sure it hasn’t been dented. “Sorry about that. It’s really windy outside.”
“Is that Jungkook?” Jimin’s voice filters through the speaker. “Hey, Jungkook!”
Jungkook looks at you and mouths, Jimin? When you nod, he chuckles and pulls off his black beanie, raking a tattooed hand through his tousled hair. He’s clearly just returned from a run, his cheeks flushed from exertion and cold, and you flash him a small smile as he grabs a clean glass from the cabinet and fills it to the brim with water from the sink. “Hey, Jimin,” he says after he takes a long gulp. “What are you two up to?”
“Dastardly schemes, among other things,” Jimin says breezily, the smile evident in his voice. “We were just talking about you, actually.”
You frown, confused. Jungkook’s brows disappear behind the shaggy fringe falling across his forehead, and you meet his curious gaze and shrug before looking back at the device in your hand. “We were?”
Even through the phone, you can sense the smugness radiating off of your best friend. “Of course we were. Namjoon might know me, but he sure as hell doesn’t know Jungkook. It’s perfect.”
There’s a beat of silence as the meaning behind his words sinks in, and then your jaw drops. “Jimin, no! Are you insane?”
“Only a little bit,” Jimin replies. “But I’m also right. It’s a good idea, and you know it.”
“It’s a terrible idea, and you know it,” you retort, slapping a hand to your forehead.
From his spot in the kitchen, Jungkook raises his hand, looking thoroughly perturbed and still holding half a glass of water. “Um, hello? Does someone want to fill me in here?”
“Sure, dude,” Jimin replies. “{Name} wants you to be her fake date to a party. You in?”
You nearly fall out of your chair. “That’s not—! You can’t just—oh my god, Jimin.” Spluttering helplessly, you cast your roommate a beseeching look. “Jungkook. You went to college with Jimin, so I don’t have to apologize for his insane behavior, right? Please. Please don’t listen to him.”
“Au contraire, you should listen to me,” Jimin cuts in, sounding affronted. “I don’t see you coming up with a better idea.”
You throw your hands up in the air. “I was just going to skip!”
“Lame,” Jimin snorts. “Not to mention cowardly. Don’t you want to get back at Namjoon?”
“It’s not high on my list of priorities, no!”
“Huh. Well then. Jungkook, how would you like a free dinner two Saturdays from now?”
Jungkook, who has been following your conversation with an expression caught somewhere between bemusement and amusement, visibly perks up at the mention of food. “Dinner?”
“Okay, no.” Dropping your phone down onto the kitchen counter, you wave your hands in protest. “Everyone needs to hang on and take a big fucking step backwards. This is an insane idea. Actually, it’s barely even an idea. It’s terrible, and I’m not doing it.”
When Jimin speaks again, you’re positive that he’s rolling his eyes. “Why not? Give me one good reason. The two of you live together, anyway, so you’re either going to get drunk at the house with Jungkook, or you’re going to go to a super fun party and get drunk with Jungkook. Why wouldn’t you choose the free party?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because my ex-boyfriend is going to be at the free party?” You huff. “Besides, I’m sure Jungkook doesn’t want to come. He probably has way better things to do.”
“Um.” Jungkook raises his hand again. “I’m still here, you know.”
Emboldened, Jimin starts addressing him directly. “Free dinner and free booze, Jungkook,” he says. “And {Name}’ll do all the dishes for a month.”
“I am absolutely not going to do that,” you cut in, but your best friend pays you no mind.
“So? Whaddaya think?”
Jungkook shrugs, his gaze flitting over to you tentatively. “I don’t really have anything else going on that day,” he admits slowly. “So, sure. Why not?”
It’s a wonder your jaw hasn’t detached entirely by the end of his casual acquiescence. “Jungkook—” you begin, but the words to finish your sentence prove evasive. Your roommate is painfully handsome—you’d have to be blind not to see that. The sweatshirt he’s wearing runs about three sizes too big, but his black joggers leave very little to the imagination and it’s near impossible not to notice the definition of his thighs beneath the fleecy material. Jungkook takes tall, dark, and handsome to a whole new level—and his inky tattoos and obvious athleticism are the bright ribbon that ties the whole package together.
And it would be so easy to instill jealousy in your ex by bringing Jungkook to the holiday party. It would be the easiest thing in the world.
“Are you sure?” you finally croak.
Jungkook offers you a crooked little smile—one that shows off his adorably prominent front teeth and dimples one of his cheeks. “I’m not really one to turn down free food and booze.”
On the other end of the line, Jimin claps his hands in delight. “It’s settled, then,” he crows. “Should we seal the deal with a kiss, or—?”
You jab at the screen of your phone, missing the end call button several times before finally finding your mark. “Goodbye, Jimin.”
The line goes dead, and in the absence of your best friend’s laughter, the silence that falls over you and Jungkook is deafening. “I can’t believe you want to come to this party,” you say at last, breaking the lull when it finally becomes too much. “It’s not too late to back out, you know. Jimin will never know.”
Jungkook shrugs—his shoulders shifting beneath his baggy black sweatshirt. “Like I said, I don’t have anything else going on. Besides, Jimin’s actually right for once. You should go. Just because your ex will be there doesn’t mean you have to miss out on a fancy work perk.” Then he grins. “Plus, I’m pretty sure I can nail this fake date thing. I’ll hold your hand and laugh at all your jokes.”
His grin is infectious, you realize, as your lips begin tugging upward at the corners. “Well consider me sold,” you tell him. “You’re hired, Jeon.” Reaching out, you extend a hand for him to shake.
Jungkook laughs and takes it, his warm fingers curling around yours. “Then it’s a date.”
“So, I think we should lay down some ground rules.”
It’s barely ten in the morning, and Jungkook has clearly just woken up if his drooping lids and petulant frown are any indication. He’s seated at the tall counter that divides the kitchen from the living room, midway through a bowl of cereal, and you watch him blink blearily in your direction as you enter the kitchen and open the fridge. “Mmm,” he hums.
A little over a month into cohabitating with Jeon Jungkook, and you’ve slowly grown more adept at deciphering the half-coherent mumbles he makes before he’s fully cognizant in the mornings. Taking this one as a sign that he is, in fact, listening to what you have to say, you continue. “First off, you’re sworn to secrecy, got it? Jimin’s enough of a blabbermouth as it is, and while I don’t think he’ll tell anyone, I just—” You sigh. “I want to make sure it looks like we’re actually… dating. Namjoon’s on Instagram a lot, so we might want to take a few photos together and post some stuff about each other. And maybe we should… actually go on a date?”
Jungkook looks up from his bowl so quickly you fear he might have snapped his neck, and you immediately backtrack. “It’s totally cool if you don’t want to!” you amend, sticking your head into the fridge and rooting around for some orange juice so you don’t have to look him in the eye. “We can just… I don’t know. Snap a photo every now and then on the way to the grocery store or something. No big deal.”
“Mmmph,” Jungkook says. He swallows his mouthful of cereal, his upper lip painted white, and you silently grab a paper towel from the roll and hand it to him. “Thanks,” he grunts, wiping at his mouth.
There’s a pause—one that lasts several beats until Jungkook breaks it. “We do have to go to the grocery store soon,” he says, jabbing a thumb at the admittedly sad state of your refrigerator. “There’s a park on the way there—you know the one I’m talking about? The one with the fountain?” At your nod, his lips quirk up. “Maybe we can have our fake date there. Take photos, and all that.”
You blink. “Really? You’re willing to do it?”
He shrugs and drops his spoon back into his bowl with a clatter. “Sure. You wanna go today? I still have to shower and get dressed—” he gestures down at his baggy flannel pants and oversized t-shirt, “—but I can be quick.”
“I’ll eat fast,” you agree, grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter and shoving two slices into the toaster. “Leave in an hour?”
Jungkook nods and stands up, rinsing out his bowl and dropping it into the dishwasher. You plop down into his abandoned seat with your breakfast, watching as he masks a yawn with his hand before shuffling back down the hallway to his bedroom and shutting the door behind him. Taking a bite out of your toast, you pull your phone out of your pocket with your free hand and thumb through your latest notifications. Your heart sinks when you see an update from one kimdaily, but you click it open nonetheless, steeling your nerves for what you might see.
The photograph, when it loads, is of Namjoon standing in front of a row of pine trees, his ashy silver hair tucked beneath a black beanie. You barely make it through the caption—something about Christmas tree shopping with his best friend and the love of his life, and how lucky he is that they’re one and the same—before slapping your phone back down onto the counter and willing your racing heart to calm. The bubble of emotion welling up in your chest threatens to burst forth from your throat, and you quickly drain the glass of juice at your elbow before standing up to pour yourself another.
That’s how Jungkook finds you three minutes later—standing at the sink with your glass in hand. His hair is still dripping from the shower, a red towel draped around his neck to catch any stray water droplets, and when he approaches you can smell the vague scent of bergamot wafting your way. He’s dressed in ripped jeans and a blue and gray sweater, and it’s all you can do to return the smile he flashes you as he fishes his black Timberlands out of the hall closet.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
You take a deep breath and set down your glass, nodding. Grabbing your purse from its spot near the door, you shove two reusable canvas grocery bags inside before slipping into your jacket. Jungkook shrugs on his own coat, patting his pockets to check for his wallet and keys, and, upon verifying both, gestures for you to exit first so he can lock the door behind the two of you.
There’s a noticeable chill in the air as you step out onto the front steps of your townhouse—a hint of impending winter in every breath you take. The streets aren’t too crowded yet, and you’re grateful for that as you and Jungkook set off in the direction of the grocery store. Inhaling deeply, you let your feet carry you on autopilot as your mind wanders.
“{Name}?” Jungkook’s voice breaks you out of your reverie. “We’re here.”
Startled, you glance up—first at him, and then at your surroundings. “This isn’t the store.”
He chuckles. “We’re stopping at the park, remember?” And instead of teasing or making you feel like an idiot, he simply veers off the main sidewalk and onto the meandering cobblestone path that winds through the entirety of the park, cutting through the fading grass and weaving in and out of a grove of trees desperately clinging on to the last of their browning leaves.
For a few minutes, the two of you stroll in silence. Jungkook—though you’ve only known him for a month and a half—is a comfortable presence to be around, and is an exceedingly considerate roommate on top of that. You’d had your qualms back when Jimin introduced him to you as the friend of a friend from university, but your last roommate had just moved out and you were sadly lacking the resources to cover rent by yourself. Jungkook moved in mere weeks after your breakup with Namjoon, and never so much as blinked when you brought a pint of ice cream to bed three nights in a row. And while you aren’t sure that you’d consider him a friend just yet, the potential is certainly there.
Putting aside the current boyfriend ruse, of course.
“Hey,” you murmur as the two of you reach a particularly picturesque curve in the path. “Stand still for a second.”
Jungkook obligingly pauses mid-step, blinking against the morning sunlight before looking up at the phone you’ve angled in his direction. “Picture for the ‘gram?” he asks, and you nod.
It takes a few moments for the camera to focus, but when it does, you snap the photo and zoom in to take a closer look. Jungkook joins you, peering curiously over your shoulder, and you tilt the screen so he can see better. “What do you think? Not bad, right?”
“Not bad,” he replies, and you take that as approval to make your post. Opening up Instagram, you worry your bottom lip for a moment before tapping a few keys.
“How’s that?” you ask once you’ve posted the photo, showing him your screen. Simultaneously, Jungkook’s own phone buzzes in his pocket with a notification.
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“Nice hashtag,” he remarks, chuckling. “Can we talk about how terrible the last season of that show was, though?”
“Oh my god, yes,” you reply, throwing your hands up into the air. “Shall I start? What was up with Jon and Dany, anyway?”
Ten minutes later, you arrive at the grocery store, still fuming about the Lannister siblings’ nonsensical demise as you enter through the sliding automatic doors. Jungkook grabs a cart, and you follow after him as he pushes it past the display of bananas right at the entrance. “Need any fruit?” he asks.
You nod, picking out a few apples from a nearby pile and placing them gingerly in a bag. “We’re running low on onions and garlic; can you grab those? I’ll meet up with you in the dairy aisle once I’m done here.”
Obediently, Jungkook trots off, leaving you with the cart. You take your time perusing the remainder of the fruit section, carefully picking out what you want, and you’re just about to move on to the vegetables when your phone buzzes.
[11:21am] Jungkook: almost forgot, can you grab a few oranges and some spinach for me?
You text back in the affirmative and tuck your phone back into your pocket. By the time you finally make it to the dairy aisle, Jungkook is already there, holding a full gallon of milk and touting a half-filled basket that has significantly more in it than just onions and garlic.
“What else did you get?” you ask curiously.
He shrugs. “Bread, cheese. Some cold brew.”
You wouldn’t have pinned your dark-haired, dark-clothed, and tattooed roommate as a french vanilla kind of guy, but the little blue label on the bottle is impossible to dispute. The sight has your lips curling up at the edges, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow when he spots your expression.
Still smiling, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”
Several days pass before your next excursion—as you’ve taken to calling them—with Jungkook. The weather forecast predicted overcast skies and scattered showers this morning, but neither of those matter where you’re currently standing, waiting in line to get your shoes. Behind you, a raucous cheer goes up as a mess of bowling pins crashes to the ground.
When you return to your designated lane, Jungkook has already slipped out of his black Timberlands and is waiting for you in socked feet, wiggling his toes in the pinstriped wool. They’re a stark contrast to the rest of his black ensemble, a matching black baseball cap perched atop his wavy hair, and you raise an eyebrow at the sight. “Are those candy cane socks?” you ask in amazement, and Jungkook grins and nods in affirmation.
A burst of laughter escapes you, high and bright in the neon air. The bowling alley rings with the sounds of clattering pins, the entire room smelling of pizza grease and whatever wax they use on the lanes, but all of that fades into the background as you and Jungkook lace up your shoes and pick out your bowling balls. “So, how good are you at bowling, anyway?” you ask, settling on a deep blue ball that’s marbled through with white and silver like a tiny galaxy.
Jungkook hefts his own ball—hot bubblegum pink flecked with varying shades of the same color—and flashes you a mischievous grin. “Why don’t we start playing and find out?”
Suspiciously, you narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t like the sound of that.” Nonetheless, you take your spot at the top of the lane, turning around to watch as Jungkook inputs your names into the computer that monitors your score. “Ready?”
Jungkook gives you a double thumbs-up. “Ready.”
It’s been many years since you’ve last gone bowling. Your fingers feel awkward in the holes, and the weight of the ball is unwieldy against your open palm. Steeling yourself, you take a few steps forward before releasing the ball, watching as it rolls laboriously down the lane. It veers off course halfway down, and you shake your head as it takes out a single pin at the very corner of the formation.
“Well,” you remark, turning back to face your companion, “at least I didn’t embarrass myself completely with a gutter ball.”
Jungkook laughs. “Hey, look on the bright side. Maybe you’ll get a spare.”
“Maybe that’s wishful thinking,” you retort, reclaiming your ball from the machine and rolling it down the lane once more. This time, it stays on course, knocking over four more pins, and you sigh as you plop down onto the chair next to Jungkook. “In my defense, I was probably fourteen the last time I went bowling.” you tell him. “Your turn.”
Jungkook is already halfway out of his seat. He grabs his pink ball and comes to a stop in the center of the lane, and you watch as he rolls his shoulders and takes a deep breath, standing deathly still for one long, lingering moment. Then he’s stepping off, his strides as quick as they are smooth, throwing his leg and arm out to one side just before he rears back and releases his bowling ball.
And all the pins at the end of the lane come crashing down, because of course they do.
“Guess that’s a strike,” Jungkook says, glancing back at you. He’s fighting a smile, his lips twitching at the corners, and you fix him with a mock glare as he takes a seat beside you once more.
“So this is why you suggested bowling. You’re some kind of pro.”
“Hey, that’s not true,” he protests, the irrepressible smile finally breaking across his face. “I’ll teach you, if you want. It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it.”
“Easy for you to say,” you grumble, just loud enough so that he can hear you over the raucous bowling alley noise. Still, you follow after him as he stands up to retrieve your ball, and accept it when he hands it over. He grabs his own ball as well, and motions for you to watch closely as he slowly mimes out the motions of his step and release method.
“Make sense?” he asks once he’s finished, straightening back up to his full height.
You frown. “I’m not sure, honestly. I still don’t really understand how your leg ends up where it does.”
“You mean this?” Jungkook crouches down and sweeps his leg backward again, throwing his arm out for balance as well. When you nod, he hums in understanding and sets his ball down. “Here, maybe it’ll help if I walk you through it. May I?”
His palm is mere inches from your shoulder, and you realize, with a start, that he’s asking for permission to touch you. The thoughtfulness of the gesture has your heart pounding, skipping several beats before racing to catch up.
“Sure,” you say once your heartbeat has settled back into an even cadence. “I guess you can try to make me a better bowler. Don’t think you’ll have much luck, though.”
That earns you a chuckle, his breath hot against the nape of your neck as he steps behind you and gently taps your arm. “Can’t fault a guy for trying,” he says. “Here, step off on this side, okay? You can hold the ball with both hands right now, but you’ll want to start pulling it back around the second step or so.”
You take one step forward and raise your opposite foot to take a second. “Like this?”
“Yeah,” he confirms, his voice soft. He’s close enough to prickle your skin with gooseflesh by this point, moving with you to guide each of your motions, and your breath hitches when he reaches around you to grasp your hand in his larger one. “Now pull your arm back, like this. You want all the momentum you can get.”
“Right,” you whisper, letting him take the lead. His chest is nearly flush with your back, his lips at your ear, and your cheeks warm as he gently urges your arm back, his fingers winding around your wrist until the pad of his thumb presses against your pulsepoint. His free hand finds the elbow of your other arm, nudging it outward to help you maintain your balance as you swing forward to release the ball. Vaguely, you wonder if he can feel the sudden uptick in your heart rate.
“Here’s where the leg comes in,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, drawing you out of your thoughts. “Sweep it back and to the side like—yeah, exactly like that! Nice.”
Without warning, Jungkook steps back, and you very nearly lose your balance when the warmth of his body disappears. Luckily, you’ve already let go of the bowling ball by then, and its trajectory remains unimpacted by your stumble. Eight pins tumble to the ground, and you let out a delighted cheer as your ball disappears into the depths and begins its unseen journey back to you. “Did you see that?” you ask, whirling around to look at Jungkook. “Eight!”
Jungkook is already on his way over to give you a congratulatory high-five, his eyes sparkling in the neon glow of the bowling alley and his face lit up with a grin. “That was awesome,” he says. “Now, why don’t we see if you can get those other two pins?”
If picking up spares is an art form, then Jeon Jungkook is Pablo Picasso. No matter how many pins he knocks down in the first frame, he always manages to get the rest in the second, and you watch on in amazement as his score crawls ever higher, aided by two strikes in a row. “One forty-six,” you sigh, shaking your head at him as he plops down into his chair and throws back a giant sip of soda. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Eighty isn’t a bad score,” Jungkook replies, trying and failing to hide a satisfied grin as he recaps his bottle. “Really.”
“Easy for you to say when you scored sixty-six more points than me,” you retort, sticking out your tongue at him. “Honestly. Who just bowls a one forty-six like it’s nothing?”
Jungkook shrugs and bends down to unlace his shoes. “Three hundred is a perfect score.”
“You say that like you’ve done it before.”
“God, no.” He snorts. “That’s league-level stuff, and even then, it’s hard as fuck. The highest I’ve ever bowled is a one eighty-five.”
Laughing, you reach down to loosen your own laces. “I’d be over the moon if I ever got a score that high. Hell, I’d be happy breaking a hundred.”
“Hey, you were getting pretty good by the end,” he points out, toeing off his bowling shoes and slipping his feet back into his trustworthy Timberlands. “We can come back sometime. Practice a little more.”
“You’re talking about coming back, but I don’t think I can even leave.” Exasperated, you lean back in your seat and stare down at the laces on your shoes, which have somehow gotten tangled up into an enormous knot. The harder you tug, the more it seems to tighten, and you groan when trying to pry the shoe off only results in an ache in your heel. “Ow, goddammit. How does this even happen?”
“It would probably help if you stopped pulling so hard, for starters,” Jungkook says dryly. Dropping down to his knees, he nudges your hands away and replaces them with his own. “Here, quit doing that and let me help. I’m pretty good with knots.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Do I want to know why?”
Jungkook glances up at you with a crooked little smile and a twinkle in his eye. “I was a Boy Scout. Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Mmhmm. Sure you were,” you tease.
Thirty seconds later, Jungkook lets out a triumphant little exclamation. The knot in your laces is gone, and you gratefully slip out of the uncomfortable bowling shoes and back into your own boots. Together, the two of you return your footwear to the counter before heading for the exit, the fresh air a welcome change from the smell of frying oil and spilled soda. The sky outside is steadily darkening into evening, a light drizzle dampening the sidewalk at your feet, and you wordlessly pull out your umbrella. Beside you, Jungkook does the same.
The soft pitter-patter of raindrops fills the hush that’s fallen between you as you walk past the myriad maze of downtown shops, a soothing overhead melody as you head back toward your shared home.
A week passes, and after a stressful workday and several forced interactions with your ex-boyfriend, you and Jungkook find yourselves at a rooftop restaurant just a few blocks away from your home. You’re seated beneath a crisscross of string lights that have yet to be turned on, the glass bulbs reflecting the light of the setting sun, and much like your fellow diners, you are looking forward to enjoying the final warm day of the season. Sounds of laughter and chatter fill the open air, intermingling with the soft clink of silverware against plates and backed by the muted hum of traffic from below.
Today marks your third and final excursion with Jungkook, and you fully intend to treat him to a nice dinner as a thank you for the last couple of weeks. He’s been nothing but amenable since agreeing to go along with your scheme, and you’re beyond grateful for his support. You have no doubt that your ex has seen all the photographs you’ve been posting, and wonder what—if anything—Namjoon is thinking.
Then again, you suppose you’ll find out all about that tomorrow. In the meantime, you’ll enjoy a nice meal with your roommate, and maybe a cocktail or two. But first—
“Ready?” you ask, pulling out your phone and thumbing over to the camera.
Jungkook nods. He’s wearing what you recognize as his nice jeans—a faded pair with only one small rip per knee—and coupled them with a collared shirt in deep navy. The first few buttons are undone, a striped tie sitting loosely at the hollow of his throat, and every time he shifts in his seat you’re afforded a glimpse of the black ink that trails along the right side of his clavicle.
“Can you move to the left a little bit?” you ask. “I can barely see your face right now—it’s all shadowy.”
Jungkook complies, leaning slightly and turning his head toward the light. The setting sun illuminates him in hazy gold, lending him an almost ethereal glow, and you snap several photos before you realize you’ve taken way more than you need.
“Good,” you tell him, swallowing thickly. “That’s good. Here, take a look.”
Jungkook peers curiously at your phone, swiping through the photos you’ve taken, and you take the opportunity to sip at your water and gather your wits about you once more.
“So? What do you think?”
“I like this one,” Jungkook says, tapping your screen. You lean over to see the photograph he’s selected, and nod your agreement as he zooms in on it. Opening up Instagram, you create a new post, mulling briefly over the caption before deciding on something simple and hitting post.
You’re forced to put your phone away when your server stops by to take your drink order. Jungkook requests a pint of whatever beer they have on tap, and you decide on the house red—a mild pinot noir. By the time the server departs, your post already has several likes, as well as a comment from Jimin that simply reads: date night? 👉🏻👌🏻👀
You respond with a string of eye roll emojis. Jungkook has pulled out his own phone by this point, and you raise a curious eyebrow when he snorts out a laugh.
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“Jimin?” you ask.
“Jimin,” he confirms with a nod. “I’m half-tempted to respond, but I’m not sure that I’ll come out unscathed.”
“You probably won’t, which means you really shouldn’t. That guy has emoji use down to a science, and it’s usually best to just ignore him—that’s what I do.” Laughing, you pick up your menu and scan the seasonal offerings. “Besides, we have way more important things to talk about, like appetizers. Do you want to share something?”
“Sure,” Jungkook says agreeably, flipping open his own menu and scanning the first page. “What were you thinking?”
“Everything they serve here is delicious, and I’m not even exaggerating,” you tell him as you grab the bottle of water the server left in the middle of the table and reach over to fill his glass. “Dinner’s on me tonight, so pick whatever you want. I’ll even waive my usual two-drink limit.”
Jungkook laughs. “Wow, really? I’m honored.”
“As you should be,” you tell him with a grin.
By the time your drinks arrive, the two of you have decided on your food as well. You take a sip of wine as the server departs again, leaning back in your chair, and let your gaze rove across the surrounding tables for a moment before speaking again.
“So. About tomorrow.”
Jungkook sets his beer down, the glass thumping gently against the wood. “The big day,” he agrees. “What do you need from me?”
His question gives you pause. You’ve known that he was going to act as your party date for weeks now, but you haven’t actually put much consideration into what that would actually entail. Thinking back to past years, you can safely assume that there will be live music, though you can’t remember the name of the band that was listed on your email invitation now. “Can you dance?” you blurt.
Jungkook doesn’t seem fazed by the sudden question. “A little bit,” he answers with a shrug. “Nothing fancy, but I can usually pull off a decent waltz if the occasion calls for it.”
“Even if the occasion calls for you to waltz to a questionable band cover of Despacito?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. Amusement etches its way across Jungkook’s face, his face creasing into a grin, and you suddenly notice that he has a freckle just beneath his bottom lip, just off from the center.
“You’re kidding.”
“I most certainly am not,” you reply, tearing your gaze away from his mouth. “The lead singer didn’t speak a word of Spanish, and the pronunciation was atrocious. I wish you’d heard it.”
“Me too.” Jungkook chuckles. “Any chance they’ll be back this year? Do you think they take requests?”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask,” you reply with a giggle, picking up your wine glass and taking another sip.
The last few rays of golden sunlight disappear beyond the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and red that slowly settle into dusky purples and cloudy blues. Overhead, the string lights turn on, illuminating the table in soft, warm light. Your appetizers arrive, and the server comes around to refill your drinks and bring you a fresh bottle of water.
“Well?” you ask as Jungkook takes his first bite.
“Mmmph,” he replies, his cheeks bulging. You grin, waiting for him to swallow, and he hides his laughter behind his palm as he washes everything down with a swig of water. “You weren’t kidding,” he says, already eyeing the plate for his next mouthful. “That might be the most delicious thing I’ve ever had.”
Pleased, you pick out a morsel of your own and pop it into your mouth. “Told you.”
“I never doubted you for a second,” he replies, picking up his fork in earnest and digging in again.
Comfortable silence settles over the two of you as the meal progresses. You’re halfway through your entrees, having just started a conversation about the merits of toe socks, when your phone buzzes against the wooden table and rattles your silverware against the ceramic of your plate. Picking it up reveals that kimdaily has once again made a post, and your heart does a backflip as you swipe open the notification.
They’re at an arcade. You recognize the venue immediately, having been there once before when you were still the subject of his photographs and social media posts. He’s grinning that dimpled grin that used to warm you from the inside out, his face occupying the entire left side of the photo. In the background, his girlfriend poses with a basketball, the scoreboard above the hoop lit with what must be a new high score.
Jungkook must sense the shift in your mood, because he stops mid-bite to glance up at you with round eyes. “What’s up?”
You let your phone screen go dark, dropping it back onto the table. “It’s nothing,” you tell him, and know you’ve been caught in a lie when his brow immediately furrows.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” he asks, setting his fork down and wiping at his mouth with a napkin. “Come on, {Name}. What did he post now?”
Wordlessly, you unlock your phone and push it across the table. He scans the photograph quietly, his lips tugging down at the corners, and when he looks up again his expression is solemn.
“I kick ass at that game, you know.”
Taken aback, you blink. “What?”
He nods at the photo. “That basketball game. I’m fucking awesome. The secret is climbing over the divider and getting up close so you make every shot.”
A startled laugh leaves your lips, half amusement and half disbelief. “Are you admitting that you cheat?”
Jungkook shakes his head and taps his temple. “Of course not. I’m saying that I like to think outside the bun.”
Still laughing, you take your phone back and tuck it back into your pocket. “You’re out of your mind.”
“Maybe.” He picks up his abandoned fork to polish off the last of his meal, noisily scraping the plate clean of any lingering sauces. “But at least you’re not sad anymore.”
And he’s right. The realization hits you like a freight train, knocking the air out of your lungs for the span of several heartbeats and then a couple more. You’re sure that you’re gaping a little bit, lips parted to let out words that you haven’t yet formulated, but you’re thankfully spared from responding when the server returns to your table.
“Here’s your dessert,” she says, carefully setting an immaculately decorated plate down in the middle of the table.
Jungkook blinks dumbly as she sets down two clean forks, one on either side. “When did you order pie?”
You blink back, equally confused. “I didn’t. I think this might be a mistake.”
Your server smiles, shaking her head. “Nope, not a mistake. This is from the couple over there in the corner. They asked me to bring you a slice of our apple pie on them, and to wish you a very happy holiday season.”
Curiously, you glance at the indicated couple, as does Jungkook. They’re a man and woman well into their seventies, seated near the edge of the rooftop between a silvery heat lamp and a leafy green plant. Under the glow of the string lights, their gray hair shines like silver, and you can’t help but smile when you see that they’re holding hands across the table. Both of them smile when they catch your eye, and the woman waves cheerily. The man mimes bringing a fork to his mouth—a universal indicator for you to try the dessert they’ve so kindly bought—and you turn back to Jungkook and the sweet cinnamon aroma wafting off of the pie on the table.
“I guess we should eat,” you tell Jungkook, who’s already picked up his fork.
“Guess so,” he agrees, sizing up the slice. “Should we cut it in half? My knife is still clean, I think.”
You hesitate. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to be a couple, and that might look weird. Maybe we should both just try and stick to one side?”
He nods. “Fine by me.” Carefully, he slices through a crusty edge and brings it to his mouth, his eyes going wide before fluttering shut in appreciation. “Oh, wow. That’s incredible.”
Delicately, you bring a forkful to your mouth, savoring the sweetness that coats your tongue. “I told you that everything on the menu is good, didn’t I?”
“You sure did.” Jungkook takes another bite, making sure to stick to his designated half of the pie. “And now, you’ve set a really high bar for tomorrow. I seriously don’t know if this can be topped.”
“The caterers are good, but they aren’t this good,” you tell him. “You’d honestly have a much better meal if you just ditched and came back here instead.”
Jungkook chortles. “Are you trying to talk me out of going to the party the night before it starts? I’m starting to think that you really don’t want me there.”
“It’s not that,” you assure him, picking up your glass of water and taking a sip. “I’m just not looking forward to seeing him. It’s bad enough walking past his cubicle at work, and now I have to socialize? And then there’s his girlfriend, which…” You trail off. “Ugh. I’m pretty sure that meeting your ex’s new partner is one of the circles of hell.”
“It definitely should be, if it isn’t,” Jungkook agrees. Then he jabs a thumb into his chest. “But hey, I’ve got your back, remember? Boyfriend for hire, at your service. I accept payment in all manner of snacks.”
“This dinner should more than cover your fee, then,” you remark with a smile. “So what do you think we should tell everyone tomorrow? What’s our big romantic backstory?”
“Hmm.” Jungkook rubs his chin thoughtfully, staring off into the distance. “We met… at a bowling alley. I’m a league champion, you see, and when I saw you throw three gutter balls in a row, I knew you were a woman after my own heart.”
“Very romantic,” you tell him, laughing. “But you forgot the part where you gallantly fetched an ice pack when I dropped the ball on my toe.”
He slaps a hand to his heart. “How could I? Nursing you back to full health—that was when I fell in love.”
“And then you bowled a perfect three hundred, thanks to me cheering you on,” you add, grinning. “Won a big gold trophy shaped like a bowling pin, and everything.”
He grins back. “Of course. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Nighttime has well and truly fallen now. Far above the glow of the string lights, the moon takes her lofty throne—a silvery crescent bathing the city in pale luminescence. The first stars begin poking through the dark sky—diamond pinpricks against deep velvet—and your breath catches when you meet Jungkook’s gaze and see them all reflected there, as if the very constellations live in his eyes.
“We—” You glance away and clear your throat awkwardly. “We should probably come up with something a little more realistic.”
Jungkook hums in agreement, lingering amusement still creasing his face. “You’re right, they’ll never believe that I bowled a three hundred. Maybe I only bowled a two-ninety.”
Laughing, you reach across the table and thwack him on the forearm. “That’s not what I meant!”
“No?” He flashes you an impish grin. “My bad.”
In the end, you and Jungkook settle on telling people that you met in college—a lie that’s both easy to remember and doesn’t invite too many other questions. “Let’s say that we were in the same writing class,” you tell him, signing the check with a flourish and putting your credit card back into your wallet. “That would make sense, right? Everyone had to take a writing class in my school.”
“Same here,” Jungkook agrees. “There were some pretty fun topics, though. Some focused on pop culture, some focused on theology—I actually took one about writing satire. It was neat.”
You pull a face. “Lucky. I spent a semester analyzing political punditry. It was depressing.”
Jungkook mirrors your expression. “Nothing quite like watching a bunch of men in a room talking over each other,” he remarks, and you nod as he rises to his feet and grabs his black leather jacket off the back of his chair.
Standing up, you slip into your own coat, not even bothering to fasten the buttons. The temperature has dropped since the sun set, but it’s still far from being cold. Jungkook doesn’t zip up his jacket either, and the combination of the black leather layered over his loosely knotted tie and collared shirt does something funny to your insides.
“We should go thank that couple for the dessert,” you mumble, suddenly feeling shy, when someone lays a gentle hand on your forearm.
“Sorry to startle you, dear.” The gray-haired woman is standing there with a kind smile, her eyes twinkling behind gold-rimmed glasses. She casts a glance back at her husband, who’s seated at the table and in the process of paying their bill. “I do hope you enjoyed the pie tonight. It’s always been our favorite thing here.”
You lay your hand atop hers, returning her smile with one of your own. “It was delicious, thank you so much. You really shouldn’t have gone to all the trouble.”
The woman laughs. “Oh, nonsense, dear—we wanted to do it. You two make a lovely couple. In fact, you remind me a little bit of us, back when we were young.”
Cheeks warming, you glance over at Jungkook, whose ears have turned pink. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “You’re too kind.”
She just smiles again, taking his tattooed hand in both of hers and giving it a squeeze. Then she turns back to you and pulls you close, lowering her voice so that only you are privy to her next words.
“There’s nothing quite like a man who can make you laugh,” she whispers. “Hang on tight to this one, dear. He’s one of the good ones.”
You don’t get a chance to answer, or ask her for clarification. She turns on her heel and returns to her husband before you can even stammer out a single syllable, leaving you alone with a curious Jungkook and a small horde of butterflies fluttering in your belly.
“What was that all about?” he asks.
You take him in—his wavy hair parted across his forehead, his silver hoop earrings peeking out from amongst the dark strands. You take in the black leather of his jacket and the messy knot of the tie at his throat.
“It was nothing,” you tell him, laying a hand on his shoulder and giving him a soft push toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go back home.”
In the two months that you’ve now lived with Jeon Jungkook, you’ve come to several realizations. The first is that he’s near impossible to wake up when he really puts his mind to it—something you’re grateful for when you’re making a racket in your rush to get to work on time in the mornings. The second is that he’s a very mediocre cook, and subsists mostly on ramen, cereal, and the occasional pizza delivery.
And the third—which is completely unfair, considering his aforementioned diet—is that he is insanely, almost painfully attractive.
Jungkook cuts a striking figure, even amidst the dozens of formally dressed people lingering in and around the entrance to the hotel. He’s wearing all black as he so often does, but he’s exchanged his favorite baggy sweats for a fitted turtleneck and a tailored suit that you’d watched him dig out of the very back of his closet just a few hours prior. A silver belt buckle breaks his monochrome silhouette, matching the silver hoops and the single dangling chain in his ears. His dark hair, normally loose and shaggy or gathered up at his crown, has been swept back and slicked with gel to expose his undercut. Already, your entrance has garnered a few stares from your nosier colleagues, and you tighten your grip on Jungkook’s arm as you pass through the garland-wrapped doorway that leads into the ballroom.
Crystal chandeliers glimmer overhead like diamonds, suffusing the room in warm, effervescent light. Round tables draped in white linen are scattered throughout, the cutlery and glassware sparkling. A low stage rises up at the opposite end of the room, atop which the band is playing an upbeat holiday medley. Just beside the entrance sits a long rectangular table draped in the same linen as the rest, and Jungkook peers curiously at the little silver bags lining it in neat rows.
“Are these goody bags?” he asks, reaching out to peek inside the nearest one.
“Don’t,” you advise him before he can pick it up. “Unless you want a shitty water bottle and a keychain that unintentionally looks like a penis.”
Jungkook laughs and retracts his hand. “I’ve been on the lookout for a penis keychain, as a matter of fact.”
“Guess I know what to get you for Christmas, then.”
He chuckles. “Can’t wait. But in the meantime—” Jungkook glances left and right, before grabbing one of the silver bags and emptying its contents into its neighbor. Then he grabs a fistful of assorted candy from the crystal bowl at the very end of the table, filling up the bag to the brim and leaving you giggling in dumbfounded amazement.
Gradually, the two of you pick your way over to the open bar. People stop to greet you and chat, casting curious looks at the man beside you, but Jungkook plays the role of new boyfriend perfectly and his friendly smile never once wavers. News of your breakup with Namjoon has no doubt made it down, up, and through the grapevine, but everyone seems to be wise enough not to press the matter. Well wishes are exchanged, and you and Jungkook move on, getting your drinks and seeking about for an empty table.
“Looking for somewhere to sit?”
The voice comes from behind you, as deep as it is familiar, and you freeze midway through sipping your wine. Jungkook seems to sense your sudden apprehension as well, his arm tensing up in yours, and you instinctively pull him closer as you turn to face the speaker.
“Namjoon,” you murmur, thanking all your lucky stars that your voice comes out steady. “Hi.”
Your ex-boyfriend stands there, just as tall and handsome as you remember with his ashy hair swept back and off his forehead. He’s wearing a steely blue waistcoat and a matching jacket, paired with black slacks and a deep navy tie that you’re certain he didn’t knot himself. And though the sight of him is devastating, when he grins his trademark dimpled grin, your poorly mended heart does a backflip and flops straight into your churning stomach.
Jungkook, thankfully, is much more articulate than you are in your current state. Stepping forward, he extends a hand for Namjoon to shake, a genial smile creasing his face. “I’m Jungkook,” he says, his gaze flitting over to you for a brief second before he levels it up at Namjoon once again. “{Name}’s told me a lot about you.”
Namjoon’s grin fades into a polite smile as he accepts the proffered handshake, sizing the other man up. “All good things, I hope,” he says at last. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”
“The pleasure’s mine,” Jungkook replies evenly, before pulling back and looking at you. “But we really should be finding somewhere to sit. It looks like the party’s gonna get started soon, babe.”
Your throat goes dry at the term of endearment. “Right,” you manage, swallowing down what little saliva is in your mouth. “We should.”
“Hey, why don’t you come sit with us?” Namjoon gestures at the table behind him where a young woman is seated with her back to you, chatting animatedly with a waiter. “We’ve got plenty of room.” And before you can even open your mouth to protest, he’s ushering both of you toward a pair of empty chairs, clapping Jungkook on the back when he gracefully steps between you to take the seat next to your ex-boyfriend.
“Yo, {Name}!” Another familiar voice sounds from behind you—this one much more welcome. You turn to see your favorite work friend, Taehyung, approaching you with his longtime girlfriend—the two of them dressed in color coordinated outfits and wearing matching necklaces that look and twinkle like strings of multicolored holiday lights.
“Tae!” you exclaim, rising to your feet to give him a hug. “And Allie—hi! It’s been way too long!”
“No kidding!” Allie glares playfully at her boyfriend. “Tae’s trying to keep you all to himself, but I’m not going to let that happen. When are you free? We should grab coffee sometime.”
“Absolutely,” you promise. “As soon as all the holiday craziness is over, I’ll be sure to text you. Have you tried the new place on 17th and Main yet?”
“No, but I’ve been dying to!” Allie exclaims. “That settles it—we’re going. No boys allowed.”
“Deal,” you laugh.
With Taehyung and Allie, your table is now full. Namjoon introduces everyone to his girlfriend, Mia—a curly-haired brunette who is just as bubbly and warm as the photos make her seem, and is completely impossible not to like. You, likewise, introduce Jungkook to the table, doing your best to avoid Namjoon’s gaze as you lay a hand on Jungkook’s arm.
“Gosh, you guys are cute,” Mia gushes. “How did you meet?”
Your rehearsed answer comes easily. “We met our freshman year of college.”
“We were in the same writing class our sophomore year,” Jungkook says at the same time, wincing when he realizes what just happened. “I mean—“
“We met freshman year, but we didn’t really get to know each other until later,” you clarify quickly, kicking his foot underneath the table. “A few months ago, we reconnected, and, well…” You glance over at him, mustering up the most genuine smile you can. “Here we are.”
Mia smiles and takes Namjoon’s hand, her fingers twining with his. “That sounds a lot like our story,” she says, nudging him playfully. “We’ve known each other for ages too—since we were kids, actually. But we hadn’t seen each other in years.”
“Then we ran into each other at the grocery store,” Namjoon recalls with a smile, his cheeks dimpling. “Imagine that—something so innocuous. But I guess fate works in mysterious ways.”
Any additional conversation is interrupted by the metallic clinking of a fork against glass, the sound amplified by the microphone set up onstage. The chief executive officer of your company stands there with a gaudy Santa hat perched atop his head, and the room quiets down to listen to him give his welcome speech and wish everyone a happy holiday season. After a toast to a happy, fruitful new year, he beckons you all to raise a glass, and as you do, the waitstaff begin filing out with appetizers.
“Soup and salad?” Jungkook asks, watching one of the waiters walk by with a tray before leaning in close to whisper in your ear. “Damn, they really do pull out all the stops.”
You grin. “I thought you’d be more excited about the open bar.”
“Oh, I am,” he replies, raising his glass and throwing back the remaining whiskey inside. “I’m about to go up there again, actually—you want anything?”
Nodding, you tell him your drink order. Jungkook rises to his feet and asks the rest of the table if he can grab any other drinks, and departs a few seconds later with a promise to Allie that he’ll bring her another glass of chardonnay. A waiter arrives with your food, and you gratefully seize upon the opportunity to avoid further conversation by picking up your fork and shoving some romaine and an herbed crouton into your mouth.
Jungkook returns about five minutes later with drinks in hand, handing Allie her wine before setting your glass in front of you and plopping back down into his seat. “How’s the food?”
Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t bother asking Joon,” he says with a nod at your ex-boyfriend, who’s fiddling with his phone’s camera and angling it strategically above his plate. “He’s still trying to take the perfect photo of his food instead of eating it.”
“Photographs are forever,” Namjoon counters without looking up, his chin jutting out in the way it always does when he’s focused. Then he looks up, a glimmer of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “Speaking of which—everyone, smile!”
You follow the movement of his arm and the subsequent raising of his camera. “That’s really not necessa—” you begin, but you’re cut off by the robotic click of the shutter. “Okay, you’ve already taken it. Great.” Namjoon opens up the photo so he can zoom in and take a closer look, and you turn to Jungkook and offer him a helpless shrug.
You’ve only just swallowed your first spoonful of soup when Namjoon raises his phone again. “Sorry,” he says, sheepish. “Tae blinked, and it looks like you’re talking, {Name}. Mind if we try again?”
“Does it matter if we say no?” you grumble under your breath, just loud enough so that Jungkook overhears and nearly inhales his wine. The six of you settle in for the photo, and you’re immediately drawn to the way Namjoon wraps his free arm around Mia, careful not to weigh on the brown curls cascading down her back.
Jungkook seems to notice your stare, too. Slowly, his arm settles around your shoulders, his palm warm even through the velvety material of your dress. Instinctively, you lean a little closer, a smile curling your lips as you gaze up at the camera lens.
“Nice,” Namjoon declares, checking the photo he’s taken. He shows it to Mia before holding it up so everyone can see, and you have to admit that he’s right—it is nice. The warm golden glow of the brightly lit Christmas tree provides a perfect backdrop, and your smile—no matter how forced it felt—translates on camera as genuine. Beside you, Jungkook is grinning a grin that makes his upper lip disappear, his eyes crinkled into cheery crescents and his arm curled around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The sight is enough to warm your cheeks, and both your heart and lungs suddenly feel far too big for your chest.
The rest of the meal passes in a flurry of conversation and laughter. You’re in the middle of showing off the pockets on your dress when someone taps their fork against a glass once more, clearing their throat for attention.
“That’s our CFO,” you whisper to Jungkook as you twist in your seat. “There’s about a fifty-fifty chance that she’s already drunk off her ass.”
Jungkook follows the trajectory of your gaze to the woman onstage, her hair dyed the color of straw. “If that’s the case, I really need to step up my game. I’m way behind.”
You hide your smile behind your wine glass. “Really? I thought it was your responsibility to make sure I get home safe tonight.”
He winks. “Who says I can’t do both?”
The chief financial officer of your company starts talking, and you and Jungkook settle in to listen. A few more higher-ups follow, giving speeches of their own, before the CEO steps up and declares that the real party can now begin. Overhead, the chandeliers dim. An array of spotlights illuminate the band onstage, and they strike a merry opening chord before bursting into a brassy rendition of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town”.
Beside you, Allie lets out an excited whoop and grabs Taehyung by the hand. Together, they whirl off onto the dance floor, their light-up necklaces twin kaleidoscopes of color, leaving you and Jungkook alone at the table with Namjoon and Mia. There’s a brief beat of awkward silence, filled only by the crooning of the lead singer and a jazzy keyboard riff.
And then Jungkook rises to his feet and offers you his palm in an open invitation. “Wanna dance?”
You take his proffered hand and let him pull you out of your chair. “Yeah. I’d love to.”
Hand in hand, the two of you meander through the throng of swaying bodies and find an open spot. Jungkook’s palm finds the curve of your waist, pulling you close, and you settle your hand onto the broad expanse of his shoulder. He’s warm and solid beneath your fingertips, his strong build unmistakable, and when he twines his fingers with yours, you smile.
“This is going much better than I thought it would,” you tell him. “You make a good fake boyfriend.”
Jungkook guides you into a spin, the skirt of your long, burgundy dress billowing outward. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“Good, because it was supposed to be.”
He flashes you a grin. The music changes—slowing to something softer and more intimate—and you let him pull you closer as his palm finds its way to the small of your back. Jungkook gazes down at you like you’re the only thing in the world, and for the briefest of moments, it’s all too easy to forget that this is all just a front—a show to sell to an unwitting audience of one.
“Do… do you think he’s watching?” you ask, tearing your gaze away from the freckle beneath his lip at last and twisting around to look for your ex-boyfriend and his companion. “I don’t see them at the table anymore.”
Jungkook frowns. “I’ll keep an eye out for him,” he promises. “Mia, too.”
You sigh at the mention of her name, equal parts annoyance and resignation. “God, Mia. She’s so fucking nice. I wish I could bring myself to hate her, but I can’t. I mean, you heard their story too, right? Childhood friends? Bumping into each other at the store? It’s straight out of a Hallmark movie. Not to mention all that talk about fate.”
Jungkook shrugs—his shoulder rising and falling beneath your palm. “I dunno—I kinda like the idea of fate. Knowing that you’re on the right path, and that you’re with the right person? It sounds really reassuring.”
You reach out and bat at his dangly silver earring playfully. “The right person? Wow, I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”
Jungkook grabs your hand and fixes you with a mock glare. “Hey, I get a little sentimental during the holidays. Sue me.”
Giggling, you pull out of his grasp and lay your hand back on his shoulder. The night continues, and a few more songs pass—the rhythms quickening and the volume swelling until conversation becomes impossible. Jungkook coaxes you into several more twirls, laughingly steadying you when you almost stumble into a neighboring couple, and you scowl at him mischievously before urging him into a spin of his own.
Eventually, your feet begin to ache in your heels. “Bar?” you ask, leaning in close so that Jungkook can hear you over the music. “My feet need a break.”
“Let’s go,” Jungkook agrees, releasing his grip on your waist. His other hand remains twined with yours, and you readily follow his lead as he weaves a path through the crowd and to the open bar in the corner.
You spend the rest of the evening at the table, chatting and drinking with your dark-haired roommate. The two of you delve into his bag of purloined candy, chocolate and artificial fruit flavors mingling with the alcohol on your tongue, and wine eventually turns into shots of hard liquor. By the time the party begins to wind down, Taehyung has to actively talk you into putting your shoes back on, having already gone through the hard work of retrieving them from under the table where you’d kicked them an hour earlier.
“Quit whining, you big baby,” Taehyung grunts, hauling you to your feet as an amused Allie watches on. “Jeez, I forgot how messy you get when you drink. Jungkook, are you sure you two are okay to get home?”
Jungkook has switched over to drinking water in the last hour, and nods as he knocks back the rest of his glass. “I’m good, don’t worry. I’ll get us back in one piece.”
“Thank god one of you is responsible,” Taehyung grumbles under his breath. You thwack him weakly on the shoulder in retaliation, stumbling slightly in the process, and Taehyung is all too happy to step aside when Jungkook winds a firm arm around your waist to keep you upright.
“Come on, babe,” he says, the words sounding almost affectionate to your inebriated mind. “Let’s get you home.”
Bidding Taehyung and Allie goodbye, Jungkook guides you back through the dance floor and to the entrance of the ballroom, chortling when you blindly grab a silver goody bag off the table. At the coat check, he provides both of your numbers to the attendant, never once relinquishing his grip on you as he waits for her to return. Sluggishly, you let your head fall against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment’s reprieve from the bright lobby lights.
And then your muddled brain registers what you’d seen just before everything went dark. Jungkook jolts in surprise when you straighten up abruptly, your eyes blinking open, and he quickly follows your gaze over to the far end of the lobby where Namjoon and Mia are slowly making their way toward you.
There’s no doubt that they’re on their way to retrieve their own jackets. Mia already has both plastic cards in her hand, chattering away to her much taller companion, and you watch as he stoops down to hear her better over the hubbub of the other party guests. His cheeks dimple as he smiles at whatever it is she’s said, and your heart lurches unsteadily in your chest.
They’re at the counter of the coat check now, where you can just barely overhear Mia teasing Namjoon about his tendency to misplace things. She hands over their numbered cards before reaching up and poking gently at one of his dimples, and Namjoon bellows out a laugh and catches her by the wrist to tug her close. His fingers trail down and twine with her smaller ones, and when your gaze drops to their interlaced hands, you don’t even notice Jungkook slipping away.
Almost as if he senses your stare, Namjoon suddenly looks up and locks eyes with you. His expression is steady—calm, even—but your heart stutters to a halt at the look all the same. It’s as if someone has drenched you in ice water, and the chill sobers you up in an instant. Jungkook returns to your side, but you don’t pay him any mind, not even when he holds up your coat and tries to help you into it. Namjoon looks away and starts fiddling with his phone, but you don’t miss the way his gaze flits over to you every few seconds, as if checking on something. He’s always been dangerously perceptive, and you, unable to look at him anymore, turn instead to Jungkook and bury your face in his shoulder.
“Jungkook,” you mumble into the fabric of his turtleneck. “He’s watching us. Can you pretend I said something funny?”
Strong hands settle gently on your back, urging you to stand up straight so he can slip your arms into the sleeves of your overcoat. “I’ll do you one better,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin and igniting gooseflesh in its wake.
And then he’s winding his arms around your waist and pulling you in, until your back is flush against his chest and you can feel every breath he takes rising and falling in time to the rhythm of his heart.
If Namjoon glances your way again, you don’t notice. You’re too caught up in Jungkook—the warmth radiating from his skin, the steady beat of his heart, the soft floral scent of the fabric softener that lingers on his clothes. He holds you in his arms until his number is finally called, and when he releases you from his embrace to go fetch his jacket, you’re taken aback by how quickly the cold settles back into your bones.
There’s already a car waiting when you and Jungkook finally exit the hotel, its engine a low hum as it idles at the curb. Jungkook gallantly ushers you into the backseat first before clambering in afterward, and you do your best to ignore the way his thigh brushes repeatedly against yours every time the car turns a corner. For his part, Jungkook seems completely oblivious to the contact—apparently perfectly content to stare out the window at the passing city nightlife. “We made it through,” he remarks, his gaze never once wavering from the outside where snowflakes are beginning to drift down from the velvety black sky.
“Yeah. We did,” you murmur back.
So why, then, does your heart feel like it’s about to hammer its way out of your chest?
“Oh, fuck.”
Even after a night of sleep, your feet still ache. There’s a smudge of mascara on your pillowcase from where you didn’t wash off your makeup properly, and you’re fairly certain there’s a stray bobby pin or two lost somewhere in your hair, prodding harshly at your scalp every time you move. On top of all that, you’re hungover. Your head pounds as you blink against the sunlight filtering in through the crack in the blinds, your mouth as dry as the Sahara and your tongue feeling like sandpaper.
And yet, all of that fades away when you wake your phone screen once more, just to see that nothing has changed. Two new notifications still sit there, taunting you. Both are from your mother, and both, you’ve read and reread six times just to make sure you aren’t dreaming.
[10:45am] Mom: Young lady, just when were you going to mention the new boyfriend?
[10:46am] Mom: Invite him to Christmas, we want to meet him!
For a few long minutes, you can only lay in bed, staring up at the white stucco ceiling and wondering what you can possibly do to remedy the situation. There’s the obvious solution, of course—but you would no doubt face a barrage of questions from your parents about the suddenness of your breakup. As well-meaning as your mother is, she’s never been one for tact, and your father is only the slightest bit more restrained. They’d only just stopped asking about Namjoon a few weeks ago, after all, and that was after you decided to lie and say the breakup was four months ago instead of a mere two.
And then there’s the alternative—bringing Jungkook home to meet your parents over the holidays. Already, you can imagine the prying questions your great aunt will barrage you with, not to mention all the ways your family will compare him—either silently or aloud—to Namjoon. After all, your ex had accompanied you to last year’s festivities, and you aren’t sure whether the sudden nausea bubbling up in your stomach is due to the memories or the hangover relentlessly pounding its erratic drumbeat against your skull.
Wincing, you reluctantly extricate yourself from your tangle of blankets, throwing your legs over the edge of the bed and rising to your feet. The throbbing ache at your temples dulls somewhat when you fix the crack in your blinds, and you pad wearily over to your en suite bathroom, forgoing the light switch and relying on the dimmed daylight that filters in from your bedroom.
It takes a generous swish of mouthwash and several layers of chapstick for you to feel somewhat human again. Pulling on some leggings and an old oversized sweatshirt, you open up your bedroom door and head across the living area to Jungkook’s bedroom, listening outside his door for a few seconds before giving it a tentative knock. You wonder if he’s awake yet.
Your question is answered a moment later, when Jungkook’s voice calls out from within, perfectly clear and lucid. “Come in!”
The first thing you notice when you enter his bedroom is how tidy everything is. Since you started living together, you’ve caught the occasional glimpse inside, but Jungkook tends to keep his door shut for the most part and you haven’t had much reason to enter before now. His bed is perhaps the one thing that stands out, his sheets messily strewn across the mattress, but you take a second to admire the immaculately folded laundry on the ottoman in the corner and the row of neatly hung clothes peeking out from his closet. Then you wander across the room to the desk where your roommate is currently hunched, peering intently at his computer monitor from behind round wire-rimmed glasses that you’ve only seen him don once before.
“Morning,” he says as you come to a stop beside him. “Sorry if I woke you up—my headset broke.”
It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about his video game, which, upon closer inspection, he has turned to the lowest possible volume setting on his computer. “No, that wasn’t it,” you reassure, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “My phone woke me up. That’s why I’m here, actually.”
Jungkook reaches into the pocket of his gray sweatpants, his eyes going wide as he fumbles for his phone. “Oh, shit. I didn’t buttdial you, did I?”
“Nothing like that,” you tell him, chuckling before the seriousness of the situation settles back in. Clearing your throat, you wake your phone screen and read the two messages there for the seventh time before looking up at him again. “It’s, uh. It’s my mom. She saw the photos I’ve been posting of you lately, and… she sorta invited you over. For Christmas.”
Jungkook freezes, his hand still in his pocket. His lips part but no words come out, and you quickly rush to fill the awkward silence with anything and everything that pops into your head.
“You don’t have to come, obviously! It’s honestly a huge ordeal, and even I don’t want to spend an entire weekend with my entire extended family. You know how families can be, right? They’ve all got their own brand of crazy. We can have a messy, public breakup and put this whole thing behind us.” You pause to take a breath, and slap a hand to your forehead in realization. “Wait, what am I even saying? You’re probably visiting your own family over the holidays. Wow. Okay. Just ignore me and forget I said anything. I’ll tell my mom you can’t come.”
Jungkook clears his throat. “Actually, that’s not true. My parents are celebrating their thirty-year anniversary in Bora Bora. They won’t be back until New Year’s, so that’s when I’m going to visit.”
You blink. “Wait, really? Were you planning on spending Christmas alone?”
Jungkook shrugs. “It’s just another day, isn’t it? No big deal.”
“Still.” You shake your head, and wince when the movement only serves to worsen your headache. “You shouldn’t have to spend the holidays alone. If you don’t have anything else going on, well… just know that you have an open invitation to my place. My parents are fantastic cooks, and I don’t want you eating ramen for Christmas dinner.”
Jungkook leans back in his chair and huffs out a chuckle. “You make it sound so depressing.”
“That’s because it is depressing.”
“Fair point.”
You smile at his easy admission, and wave your phone. “So? What do you think? Weekend with my crazy family?”
“Weekend with your crazy family,” Jungkook confirms, and you grin.
“Guess our messy breakup will have to wait, then.”
“Guess so,” he agrees quietly.
Turning on your heel, you exit Jungkook’s bedroom, texting your mom back and confirming your additional guest. Your phone buzzes again just as you hit send, and you curiously navigate over to the new notification to open it.
[11:01am] Jiminnie 🐭: r u alive?
Barely, you write back, rubbing your temples.
[11:02am] Jiminnie 🐭: lmao. k then. brunch in 20? the usual place?
[11:02am] You: yes please.
Two days before the drive to your parents’ house, you finally finish buying all of your Christmas presents. Sprawled out in the middle of the living room floor, you stare beseechingly at the array of gifts, surrounded by a graveyard of unusable wrapping paper shreds. Wrapping presents has never been a strong suit of yours, and you’re teetering on the verge of giving up entirely when your phone begins buzzing insistently from within your pocket.
“Jimin,” you sigh when you see his grinning contact photo filling your screen, swiping to answer the call. “What’s up?”
“Did you get my text?” Jimin asks, not even bothering with a hello.
Confused, you put him on speaker and thumb over to your messages. “Uh, no? I don’t even think my phone went off.”
Jimin curses, and you hear him fumble for a moment before his voice comes through the receiver again. “What about now?”
Your phone vibrates, and you quickly open up the text. “What is this? Are you in a dressing room?” you ask, taking in the attached photographs. The first is of your best friend in a sharp black suit, the black shirt underneath billowy and barely opaque. In the second, he’s wearing dangerously tight jeans and an embellished black leather jacket, layered over a white t-shirt with a familiar brand name boldly emblazoned across the front. “Is that Gucci?”
“Yes and yes,” Jimin answers. “I have that stupid fucking high school reunion over the holidays, remember? Which outfit screams, I’m sexier and more successful than you now? I need a second opinion.”
“A second opinion on which outfit makes your dick look best, you mean,” you grumble. Nonetheless, you open up the first photo again, zooming in on the more intricate details of the outfit and avoiding the bulge near his crotch at all costs. You’re about to switch over to the second when the front door flies open, letting in a blast of icy air and a disheveled looking Jungkook, struggling under the weight of an armful of shopping bags that looks to be about twice his size.
Apparently, you’ve been quiet too long for Jimin’s liking, because his voice filters through the speaker in a petulant whine. “Hello? I sent you my dick. Please respond.”
You’re already halfway to your feet, dropping your phone on the couch in your rush to shut the door. “Stop trying to sext me right now, I don’t need this!” you throw over your shoulder as you relieve your windswept roommate of two shopping bags and set them safely on the ground. Jungkook lowers the rest to the carpeted floor with a heavy sigh, pulling off his beanie and shaking out his hair, and you lock the front door before turning to face him again. “Are you okay?” you ask.
Jungkook nods and offers you a crooked, sheepish grin. “Yeah. Sorry. It’s freezing outside, so I really wanted to get everything inside in one trip.” Then he glances back at where your phone has fallen between the couch cushions, his brows furrowing in concern. “I, uh, didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
You laugh, walking back over to the couch to fish your phone out. “You’re not interrupting anything, trust me. Jimin’s just trying to decide what to wear to his high school reunion.”
“Really?” Jungkook lugs four bags into the kitchen, leaving them on the counter before picking up the other three and joining you in the living room. “You’re actually going to yours?”
“That’s what I said!” you exclaim. “Why are you even bothering with the whole reunion thing? Do you really want to see these people?”
“I have my reasons,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Now, are you gonna tell me which outfit you like better or not?”
Several minutes later and after some very careful inspection of the two photos, both you and Jungkook give Jimin your final verdict. “The suit makes you look like you’re trying too hard,” you tell him, holding the phone between you and Jungkook so he can pipe in if he wants to. “The dick-hugging jeans, on the other hand, are pretty much perfect for what you’re going for.”
“I like the jeans too,” Jungkook says. “Not that I was really paying attention to how your dick looked in them, but if {Name} says so, then I believe her.”
You laugh. “Get the jeans, Minnie. And hurry up, while you’re at it. Don’t you have a plane to catch?”
“I have plenty of time,” Jimin says dismissively. Nonetheless, he bids you both goodbye and hangs up, leaving you alone with Jungkook, six tubes of messily shredded wrapping paper, and the haphazard stack of shopping bags he’s left in the middle of the floor next to yours.
“So… what exactly happened here?” Jungkook asks dryly, picking up a spool of bright red ribbon and ripping off the tape dispenser that’s somehow adhered itself to one side. “It looks like a war zone, and clearly, you lost.”
“Things may have gotten away from me a little bit,” you admit. Disbelief etches across your roommate’s face, and you sigh and quickly amend your statement. “Okay, fine. A lot a bit.”
“{Name}, it looks like something died in here.”
“It does not! Stop exaggerating, you big meanie.”
Jungkook snorts out a loud laugh. Plopping down on the floor, he clears out a space beside him and gestures for you to sit down. “I can’t believe you just called me a meanie,” he says, still chuckling. “Are we in elementary school?”
You sit down in the spot he indicated, crossing your legs and picking up a rather mangled looking bow. “No, but maybe I need to go back. Art class clearly didn’t stick.”
“Funny, art class was always my favorite. That, and music. Speaking of which—” Jungkook whips out his phone and taps at the screen, until the first strains of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” filter through the speakers on either side of the television. “To set the mood,” he explains, tucking his phone away again.
“Very festive,” you remark, bobbing your head along to the addictive melody.
Together, the two of you start wrapping your presents, passing the tape dispenser back and forth. Jungkook is the first one to start humming under his breath, drumming his fingers quietly against his knee, and it isn’t long before you’re both belting along to the music. Grabbing an empty wrapping paper tube, you cut it in half and throw him one end, holding yours up to your mouth like a makeshift microphone. Deftly, he catches it, spinning it between his fingers before closing his eyes for his dramatic, crooning rendition of “Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire”.
Jungkook has a pleasant singing voice. You’ve heard him singing in the shower more than a dozen times by this point, but it still sometimes catches you unawares. A soothing, mellow tenor, his voice is one that melds perfectly with every track and every genre, and you gradually trail off in your own singing to listen to him, uninterrupted. Every so often, he adds a little embellishment or harmony, and you’re so caught up in his performance of “Silent Night” that you forget about the task at hand.
That is, until the task at hand makes itself known again—in the form of a piece of wrapping paper slicing the pad of your index finger open. “Ow!” you exclaim, jerking away from the offending material, and Jungkook stops mid-verse with worry creasing his expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, scooting closer when he sees the way you’re clutching your finger. “Did you cut yourself?”
You nod, and wince when a drop of bright red blood wells up in the thin wound. “Yeah, but it’s just a papercut, no biggie. I’m just gonna go grab a band-aid real quick, and—”
Jungkook hops to his feet before you can even finish your sentence and heads for the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with the first-aid kit that you keep stowed beneath the sink. “Give me your hand,” he says, and when you hesitate, he kneels down beside you and lifts your hand himself, his palm engulfing you as he examines the tip of your finger.
“Huh,” he says after a few seconds. “This probably doesn’t need to be disinfected, but better safe than sorry.” Uncapping a tube of antibiotic ointment, he carefully dabs some on with a cotton pad. He winds a band-aid around your finger once he’s finished, and you try and fail to quell the sudden uptick in your heart rate at his delicate care.
“I-I could’ve taken care of it,” you mumble, looking anywhere but at him.
Jungkook shrugs and stands back up to return the first-aid kit to its proper place. “It’s no big deal,” he says. “I was gonna go grab some water, anyway. You want anything while I’m up?”
Silently, you shake your head, and he hums out a soft okay before returning to the kitchen. The cabinet under the sink opens, the faulty bottom hinge that you haven’t gotten around to fixing squeaking in protest, before the faucet turns on. And when he rejoins you in the living room, you see that he has two glasses of water, watching as he sets one down on the coffee table beside you.
“Just in case you get thirsty,” he says simply.
Touched by his thoughtfulness, you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip. “Thanks.”
For the next few minutes, the two of you wrap presents in relative silence, the rustling of paper and ribbon backed by Jungkook’s holiday playlist. It isn’t until Jungkook clears his throat that you look up from where you’re trying in vain to cover a stuffed elephant plushie in wrapping paper, tilting your head in silent inquiry.
Jungkook clears his throat again, hiding both hands behind his back. “You can’t see this last one,” he says. “It’s yours.”
“Oh!” Immediately, you cover your eyes. “Do you want me to turn around?”
He laughs. “Only if you’re going to try and peek.”
“Hey now, your present’s been in my room for days. How do I know you haven’t snuck a look at it?”
“Maybe I did,” he teases. “Maybe I was wondering about how you managed to wrap it without my help.”
You huff, your hands still slapped over your eyes. “Okay, first of all? Rude. And second of all, now I know you didn’t peek. I put your present in a gift bag.”
Jungkook bursts into laughter—high and bright. A few more seconds of rustling later, he tells you that you can open your eyes again, and you immediately spot the little package sitting atop his pile of gifts, wrapped neatly in shiny gold paper.
“We should put these under the tree,” you remark softly, gesturing at the fake plastic monstrosity that you’d gotten on sale two years ago. Between the five strings of lights and all the ornaments, you’ve managed to get it looking decent enough, and with the addition of both your and Jungkook’s gifts beneath the evergreen branches, it makes for a lovely sight.
Whether it’s a lovelier sight than your roommate, though—his honeyed skin glowing in the illumination of the string lights and his dark hair haloed in gold—you cannot quite say.
“You know, it’s not too late to turn around.”
Jungkook chuckles and makes the turn into your parents’ neighborhood, guided by your reluctant directions and the monotone voice of his phone’s GPS. “Really? You want me to turn around right now and drive an hour back to our place?”
“Fifty minutes,” you grumble under your breath. Nonetheless, you sink back into your seat and watch as the house you grew up in comes into view, the rooftop and the tree out front laden with accumulated snow and strung with multicolored lights. Jungkook pulls smoothly into the driveway, and you turn to face him as he puts his car into park and turns off the engine. “Remember—they think we’ve been together for two months.”
He nods. “Yep.”
“And you remember our story, right?”
Jungkook huffs out a laugh. “Are you going to keep delaying the inevitable? Come on, let’s hurry and get inside. It's freezing out here.”
You suck in a deep breath. “Fine,” you relent, climbing out of his beat-up sedan and pulling open the backseat door to fetch the two bags of presents that you’ve brought. Jungkook, for his part, has three bottles of wine tucked safely into a colorful paper bag, as well as a potted poinsettia that he’d picked up from the grocery store yesterday.
“You bought pinot grigio for my mom, right? And white zinfandel for Great Aunt Martha?”
“Yes, and yes. I also have a cabernet sauvignon for any red wine drinkers.” Jungkook nods at the bag swinging from his hand. “Quit worrying, seriously. You’re gonna go prematurely gray.”
“The last few weeks have already cut five years off my lifespan,” you grouse under your breath. Nonetheless, you lead him up the walkway to the front door, and Jungkook chuckles when you ram the doorbell with your elbow, your hands too full to lift a finger.
Not two seconds later, the door flies open, revealing both of your parents standing there. “You’re early!” your mother exclaims, ushering you and Jungkook inside. “Come in, come in—it’s cold out there! Don’t forget to wipe off your feet. And this must be Jungkook!”
You swallow and nod. “Yeah, this is Jungkook. Jungkook—this is my mom and dad.”
Politely, Jungkook inclines his head, the strands of hair that have come loose from his ponytail falling across his forehead. “It’s very nice to finally meet you,” he says. “Thank you for having me.”
“Nonsense,” your dad says, clapping him on the back. “We’re excited to have you. Come on in—you can leave your shoes and coat over here.” Turning to you, he takes the presents off your hands. “I’ll go ahead and put these under the tree for you, honey.”
You smile at him. “Thanks, Dad.”
“You brought gifts?” Your mom steps closer, glancing into your bags before looking over at Jungkook again. Silently, she sizes him up before peering into the bag he’s holding, a slow smile curving her lips as she takes in its contents. “This is very sweet of you, dear. You shouldn’t have.”
Jungkook smiles shyly and tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s no problem,” he says. “Just something small to thank you for your hospitality.”
Your mom laughs and relieves him of the bag, ushering both of you into the kitchen. “We’re happy to have you, believe me.” Removing the poinsettia plant, she sets it on the windowsill above the sink and adds the wine to the impressive display already lining the countertop. You follow her to the sink to wash your hands, and Jungkook trails after you like a shadow.
“So, how’s dinner coming along? you ask as you lather the lemon-scented soap between your palms. “Can we help with anything?”
Your mother nods, pulling two aprons off of a nearby chair and handing one over to each of you. Yours is a decades-old one that you’ve had since you were a child, tie-dyed rainbow with the help of your parents and embroidered with your name in orange thread. The other is pastel pink with white daisies, and you stifle a giggle as Jungkook pulls it over his all-black ensemble and ties the ribbons behind his back. He’s dressed a little less casually than you’re used to—a billowy collared shirt tucked into slim black jeans—but the Timberlands and the swirling ink coiling around his right wrist remain the same as ever and contrast starkly with the bright floral pattern of the apron. Jungkook catches your eye and arches a brow, as if daring you to comment, and you stick your tongue out at him playfully before turning to a nearby drawer and selecting a knife from within.
“I’ll start dicing these potatoes,” you say, gesturing at the pile on the counter.
“I can do the onions,” Jungkook volunteers immediately, following your lead and grabbing a knife of his own. “Is there a bowl I can put them in?”
“They should be right there,” you tell him, pointing at the cabinet he’s standing in front of, and you’re proven correct when he opens it and lets out a satisfied aha! The kitchen quickly fills with the rhythmic sound of chopping, pausing every now and then when your parents request help with something else.
Cooking with Jungkook isn’t new. The two of you cook together more often than not, having quickly realized that it saves both time and money, especially when you make enough dinner to have leftovers for lunch the next day. It’s been about five weeks since you started sharing meals and grocery lists, but you’ve developed a certain level of comfort and ease in that time, a certain ebb and flow in the way you move about the kitchen.
But here in your parents’ home, everything feels different. The kitchen is more spacious, and all of the utensils are in different places. And that’s not even factoring in the fact that you can feel your parents staring when they think you aren’t paying attention, their gazes lingering too long and too often.
It’s a welcome relief, then, when the doorbell rings. Your father heads off to answer it, but the front door swings open before he can even lay a hand on the knob, letting in a gust of chilly air and a small horde of cousins ranging from ages four to thirteen. “Oh god, they’re all here,” you lament under your breath. Tossing a quick prayer up to whatever deities may exist, you take Jungkook by the hand and lead him into the foyer to meet the rest of your family.
“So this is the new boyfriend,” your Great Aunt Martha declares upon your arrival, looking Jungkook up and down. “He’s handsome, I’ll give him that. Not sure about all those tattoos, though.” Then she squints, her eyes narrowing behind the tortoiseshell pattern of her horn-rimmed glasses. “How long did you say you two have been together?”
Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “Just about two months, now.”
Great Aunt Martha harrumphs. “And how did you meet? Was it that Timber website?”
“Tinder,” you correct. “And, no. We met through Jimin, actually. They went to school together.”
That seems to satisfy her for the time being. Gradually, your family members disperse around the house—some coming to the kitchen to help while others head off to the living room where the television is playing reruns of A Christmas Story. Your grandparents—who live a block away from your parents—brew some tea and take a seat on the couch to rest. All of your cousins disappear somewhere, intent on wreaking the sort of havoc that only children can. If there’s one benefit to a massive family gathering, it’s that the focus is no longer squarely on you and Jungkook. Relief floods through your system as you finally let go of Jungkook’s hand, the two of you now standing alone in the foyer.
“That went well, I think.”
He nods. “No way I’m going to remember all those names, though.”
“Luckily, I don’t think anyone’s expecting you to,” you tell him with a grin. “But I’ll whisper in your ear or send you a text if I have to.”
By the time you return to the kitchen, dinner is nearly ready. Your mother is carefully slicing the roast while your father arranges side dishes in their respective platters. Great Aunt Martha paces around barking orders like a drill sergeant, which are ignored for the most part and halt entirely when your dad brings her a large glass of chilled white zinfandel.
“She always puts a single ice cube in her wine,” you whisper to Jungkook, who snorts out a loud laugh and has to disguise it as a cough. “I don’t know why.”
“It must be an aunt thing,” he whispers back. “Mine does the same thing with merlot.”
With the help of a few aunts and uncles, as well as some of the older cousins, the table in the dining room is set. A smaller table in the adjoining living room is designated for the kids, laid out with a plastic tablecloth and a stack of shatter-proof plates and cutlery. Your Aunt Donna calls for the cousins to come and get their food, and immediately from somewhere upstairs come the pitter-patter of running footsteps. The kids jostle each other as they pick out their plates, and a minor squabble breaks out between the two youngest, Molly and Sadie, when they both want the pink one.
Eventually, everyone picks out their food and takes it back to their table, leaving room for the adults to sit down. Your seat ends up being between Jungkook and your Gram Gram, who smiles and pats your cheek fondly as you pull out her chair for her.
“So, Jungkook!” your father says as he takes the seat opposite you. “Tell us about yourself. What do you do for a living?”
Jungkook nearly chokes on his wine when all eyes turn to him, but he recovers quickly and wipes at his mouth with a festive red and green napkin. “I work in IT,” he says. “I’ve always been good with computers, so it was the natural choice.”
“Did I hear you say that you went to school with the Park boy?” your dad asks. “Bill went there too, didn’t you, Bill?”
Your Uncle Bill nods. “That’s right—class of ‘89. How’d you like it?”
As the two begin talking about their alma mater, you tune out of the conversation. Jungkook seems to be winning everyone over with ease, and the anxiety that’s been gnawing at your ribcage since you arrived slowly begins to wane. Maybe this weekend won’t be so bad, after all, you reason as you pour yourself another glass of wine.
“Enough of all that nonsense!” Great Aunt Martha interrupts Jungkook’s conversation with your uncle mid-sentence and snaps her fingers as if summoning a dog. “When are you two kids getting hitched?”
The entire room goes silent. Even the dull hum of the television and the chatter from the kids’ table seems to fade. Mortified, you open your mouth to chastise your great aunt, but no words come out and you’re left gaping like a fish out of water, your cheeks aflame.
Much to your surprise, Jungkook just laughs. Gently, he reaches over to take your hand, his touch warm and reassuring as his fingers settle into the spaces between your own, and you glance up at him tentatively as he answers. “I think it’s a little too early for that,” he says, his smile soft and lingering. “But I’d like to get married one day.”
Great Aunt Martha settles back into her chair and takes a swig of her wine, the half-melted ice cube inside bobbing. “The sooner the better, I say.”
“That’s hardly up to you, Martha,” your mother cuts in, much to your relief. “They’ve only been dating a few months. You’re going to scare the poor boy off.”
With that, the conversation veers off in a different direction, and thankfully away from the topic of your and Jungkook’s supposedly pending nuptials. The evening wears on, dessert is brought out, and your father goes around the table topping off everyone’s glass as you help your mother load up the dishwasher.
By the time your relatives decide to call it a night, it’s nearly ten o’clock. The cousins are playing board games in the living room, a few of the younger ones stealing not-so-surreptitious glances at the sizable pile of presents beneath the Christmas tree in the corner. It’s tradition for the children to sleep over at your house, as the host of this year’s Christmas festivities, and already they’ve laid out their sleeping bags and pillows in preparation for a long night of staying up late to catch Santa in action. Upstairs, your parents have prepared the guest room for Aunt Donna and Uncle Bill to spend the night as well, since they flew in from the other side of the country. The rest of your relatives, however, live within a five-minute radius and can get home easily enough. Already, your Gram Gram is pulling on her thick wool coat in preparation for the short trek down the block, her husband rushing to her aid when the sleeves get tangled.
“Your bedroom is all set up, honey,” your mother tells you as she puts the last of the leftovers in the refrigerator. “You two can head on up whenever you’d like.”
You glance over at the front door where Jungkook has just come in from unloading your suitcases out of the trunk of his car, your heart rate picking up a notch when you see that he’s rolled his sleeves up to reveal the ink coiling around his right forearm. “Right,” you murmur. “My bedroom. Thanks, Mom.”
She smiles. “Sleep tight, hon.”
“You should really get some rest, too.”
“I will.”
You peck her on the cheek. “You’d better.” Turning, you join Jungkook in the foyer to bid your Gram Gram and Gramps goodbye, hugging each of them in turn and promising that you’ll see them both tomorrow. The rest of your relatives are likewise putting on their coats and shoes, and you say all your farewells before taking your suitcase from Jungkook and lugging it up the stairs.
You’ve only just made it past the first step, Jungkook trailing on your heels, when your father lets out a loud bellow of laughter and calls your name.
Bemused, you turn to face him again. “What is it?”
Your father grins, pointing. “Look up,” he says, and your stomach sinks like a stone as you follow the trajectory of his finger up to the little green sprig dangling from the ceiling just above the stairwell.
“Oh.” You glance at Jungkook, who’s staring up at the mistletoe with an expression that can only be described as a deer caught in headlights of an oncoming truck. He’s standing one step below you, making his head just about level with yours, and you worry your bottom lip anxiously between your teeth as his gaze slides down to meet yours.
“On the cheek?” he suggests softly, and you nod. Gingerly, you lean forward, your lips brushing just above the angle of his jawline.
A chorus of boos rises up from the bottom of the staircase, and you belatedly realize that your cousins have joined the throng of people in the foyer at some point. “Kiss him for real!” Molly trills, stamping her little socked foot against the carpet, her pink pajamas bright as a beacon.
“On the mouth!” Great Aunt Martha agrees, her words slurring together ever so slightly from the full bottle of white zinfandel she’s consumed.
Helplessly, you shrug at Jungkook, who smiles crookedly at you in return. “Guess we don’t have much of a choice, huh?”
“The hyperfixation on watching us kiss is weird, don’t you think?” you ask, trying to make light of the situation even as he leans in.
“Very weird,” he breathes. And then his lips are on yours—warm and soft and just the tiniest bit chapped. He’s applying the gentlest amount of pressure, fainter than a whisper of wind, but it still manages to leave you breathless in a way that has you clutching at his shoulders for support.
All too soon, the kiss comes to an end. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed when he pulls away, and you’re just about ready to sink through the floorboards when one of your older cousins wolf whistles at the display. “Okay, that’s enough humiliation for one night,” your father decides, taking pity on your embarrassed state and ushering everyone away. “Goodnight, you two.”
“Night,” you croak before making a break for it. Jungkook trails you like a silent shadow as you throw open the door of your childhood bedroom, your face still burning at the memory of his mouth against your own. Letting your suitcase fall to the floor, you flop down onto the edge of the bed, finally working up the nerve to look at your companion.
“This doesn’t have to be weird, right?” you ask, and you wonder if Jungkook can hear the desperation seeping into your voice. “We just have to get through tomorrow, and the morning after that. Then we’ll be on our way home, where everything can go back to normal.”
Jungkook sits down beside you, leaving ample room between you to comfortably seat a third person. “Sure,” he says. “We’re roommates, right? This—” he gestures at the full-sized bed you’re both sitting on, “—doesn’t have to be weird.”
“Right,” you agree. “We’re just… sharing. A room.”
“A bed,” Jungkook says at the same time.
You clear your throat, fiddling nervously with the edge of your sweater. “Right.”
Fortunately, your bedroom has an en suite bathroom, keeping you safe from the prying eyes of your family as you and Jungkook take turns getting ready for bed. You change into your pajamas—an old t-shirt and a pair of soft fabric shorts—and exit the bathroom to see Jungkook sitting awkwardly on the floor at the foot of the bed, his hair now loose and falling across his forehead in loose waves.
“I didn’t know which side of the bed you wanted,” he says, rising to his feet and pocketing his phone. He’s wearing checkered flannel pants and a plain white tee, and you glance down self-consciously at your own bare legs. “Do you have a preference?”
Quickly, you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you tell him. “Pick whatever side you want.”
Jungkook shrugs. “The left, I guess.”
You nod and head for the right side. “Okay.”
Silently, the two of you take a few minutes to organize your suitcases, laying out clothes for tomorrow and plugging in your phones to charge. Finally, when the inevitable can be delayed no longer, you turn toward the bed, carefully lifting up a corner of the blanket and crawling underneath.
“I guess we should get some sleep,” you murmur.
Jungkook joins you under the covers, ensuring that every part of his body remains firmly on his half of the bed. “Probably.”
You swallow, and turn to switch off the bedside lamp. “Goodnight, then.”
The room goes dark, and you feel the mattress shift as Jungkook turns away from you. “Goodnight,” he whispers back.
Minutes pass, and Jungkook’s breathing slowly evens out. Around you, the rest of the house settles into silence, with nary even a peep coming from the little cousins camping downstairs. You remain awake though—painfully aware of the heat radiating from the slumbering body beside you and the erratic tempo of your heart thudding in your ears. Vaguely, you wonder if you’ll have to resort to counting sheep.
After what feels like an eternity, you finally drift off into a fitful slumber. And when you dream, you dream of Jungkook and his lips, warm and sweet against your own.
Your eyes fly open at the piercing shriek, just barely catching a glimpse of bright red pajamas before the perpetrator dashes out of the bedroom and slams the door behind them. Groaning, you flump back against your pillow and cast an apologetic look at Jungkook, who’s slowly beginning to stir awake beside you. “Who was that?” he mumbles blearily, stifling a yawn behind his palm.
“I’m not sure,” you admit. “Mason? Maybe Dakota? It was one of the smaller ones.”
Jungkook hums, both of his eyes falling shut once more. Peace falls over your bedroom once again, lasting for all of three seconds before Jungkook shoots upright and nearly falls off the bed. “I-I—” he stammers, looking utterly horrified. “This isn’t—I mean, I’m not—” He groans. “Fuck. This just happens sometimes, I swear.”
The reason for his awkward stammering and averted gaze is beginning to dawn, your eyes trailing southward. There’s an unmistakable bulge tenting the blanket where Jungkook’s crotch is, and you squeak before slapping both your hands over your eyes as if that will somehow dispel the image that’s now imprinted on your lids. “Oh my god! Can you go, I don’t know, take care of that?”
Jungkook practically flies off the bed, grabbing his pillow and pressing it over his crotch. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just gonna… I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he stammers, his face crimson as he stumbles over his opened suitcase and strews neatly folded clothing every which way. “Fuck. Shit. Just, uh—can we forget this ever happened?”
“Consider it forgotten,” you tell him, still determinedly looking anywhere but at him. “Can you go now, please?”
You hear him shuffle off, and the bathroom door clicks shut a moment later. Exhaling heavily, you let your head sink back into your pillow, trying to ignore the sound of the shower turning on in the adjoining room and trying even harder to suppress the barrage of unwelcome thoughts infiltrating your brain. The carnal images that flash through your mind are vivid in their obscenity, and it takes every last ounce of willpower to push aside the little voice in your head that croons for you to join him in the shower and drop to your knees to help him out.
You can’t quite look Jungkook in the eye when he exits the bathroom, now fully dressed in faded jeans and an oversized cable-knit sweater the color of fresh cream. Instead, you wordlessly grab the bundle of clothes you’d laid out last night and brush past him to use the bathroom, hoping that a shower of your own will wash away any and all images you’ve managed to conjure of Jungkook’s cock.
Your parents are sitting at the kitchen table with your grandparents by the time you and Jungkook head downstairs for breakfast. In the living room, a few cousins are still stirring awake, batting grumpily at their younger counterparts who keep shaking their shoulders and trying to crawl into their sleeping bags.
“Good morning,” Jungkook greets politely, keeping his voice down, and your mother beams and immediately jumps to her feet to open the refrigerator.
“We have milk and all kinds of juice in here, so help yourself, dear,” she tells him. “Coffee’s in the pot—it’s still hot if you want it. The pancakes and bacon are being kept warm in the oven, plates are over there, and feel free to make some eggs if you want them.”
Jungkook shakes his head, his damp hair flying every which way. “This is more than enough. Thank you so much.”
Your father chooses that moment to speak up. “How did you two kids sleep?”
“Like a log,” Jungkook answers, and you nod your agreement even though it’s a lie.
“Yeah. We slept really well.”
“Good, good.” Your dad stands up and meanders over to the coffeemaker to refill his mug, and you follow after him to grab two plates. Jungkook joins you at the counter as you load them up with pancakes, drenching his in syrup and grabbing a few slices of bacon.
From the other room, you hear the patter of approaching footsteps before Sadie comes zooming in. The five-year-old goes sliding across the tiled floor, trailed by Molly and Dakota a few seconds later, and your father fixes all of them with a stern look as they bounce excitedly on their heels.
“Is it time to open presents?” Sadie asks eagerly, lacing her hands in front of her chest.
Molly gazes up at your parents with wide, pleading eyes. “Pretty, pretty please?”
Your dad scoops the little girl up, easily lifting the four-year-old in her pink unicorn pajamas. “You haven’t even eaten breakfast yet, young lady.”
Molly giggles when he bops her on the nose. “But Uncle, it’s Christmas!”
He chuckles. “You’re right. How about this, then—you can each have one piece of candy from your stocking. But then you have to eat some breakfast, okay?”
All three children cheer. Sadie and Dakota run off again, and Molly follows soon after once your dad sets her back down. “Honey, do me a favor,” he says, and this time, he’s addressing you. “Go and keep an eye on those kids, will you? Try and make sure they don’t eat all their candy in one sitting.”
“On it,” you tell him with a laugh. “Wanna help, Jungkook?”
Your dark-haired companion, who has just taken an enormous bite out of his pancakes, nods and struggles to swallow the food down. Kindly, you pour him a mug of coffee and hand it over, earning yourself a grateful grin from him as he takes a sip. Together, the two of you head into the living room, picking your way through the sea of sleeping bags to an empty spot on the couch and watching as your cousins grab their stockings off the fireplace and fish out the candy from within.
The sun crawls higher in the sky as morning wears on. Breakfast is a messy, chaotic affair, but everyone—the kids included—eventually gets some food into their bellies. All of your relatives have returned to the house, and your father finally gathers everyone around the Christmas tree to take a group photo. You and Jungkook find yourselves seated on the carpeted floor with the rest of the kids as he sets the automatic timer on his camera, having long since given up your spot on the couch to your older family members.
Once the photo is taken, Sadie raises her hand. “Can we open the presents now?”
Her mother, and your Aunt Donna, pretends to consider it. “Oh, I suppose.”
A delighted cheer goes up from the children, and you watch on, amused, as wrapping paper begins to fly in every direction. The cousins with more of a sweet tooth empty the rest of the contents of their stockings, and quickly begin trading for their favorite types of candy. Delighted shouts and laughter pierce the air, and a few minutes into the festivities, little Molly breaks free of the hubbub and approaches the spot where you and Jungkook are seated.
“This is for you,” she says, offering you one of the miniature chocolate bars clutched in her fist. Then she turns to Jungkook shyly, a little smile curling her lips. “And this one’s for you, because {Name} likes you. And that means I like you, too.”
Jungkook looks rather taken aback as he accepts the candy she hands over, his eyes growing wide before he offers her a broad smile and a quiet murmur of thanks. Molly stares at him for a few moments longer, her head tilted, and you’re just about to ask if she needs anything else when she suddenly reaches into her pocket and pulls out a piece of toffee. “You’re pretty,” she remarks to Jungkook as she unwraps it and shoves it into her mouth. “Just like a prince.”
Great Aunt Martha, who’s seated nearby, overhears her statement and chooses that moment to butt in. “Boys are handsome, dear. Not pretty.”
Jungkook shrugs his shoulders and unwraps his chocolate bar. “I don’t mind being called pretty. Thank you, Molly. You’re very pretty too.”
She giggles. “Do you think {Name}’s pretty?”
You stiffen at the mention of your name, but Jungkook doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, and the ease with which he says it has your chest feeling dangerously tight. Molly, apparently now done with the conversation, returns to her presents, and you pull out your phone and scroll through your notifications in an attempt to avoid looking at your companion. There’s a few Merry Christmases from your friends, and a selfie from Jimin that depicts him sitting in front of his family’s lit-up tree and drinking straight out of a bottle of champagne. You’re about to open up Instagram to see if kimdaily has posted anything recently, when Jungkook calls your name.
“You should open your presents,” he says when you look up, sliding over a small pile of wrapped packages and gift bags. “Here. I found a few with your name on them.”
Your gaze flits from tag to tag, finally alighting on the little golden one that says To {Name}, From Jungkook. “You should open yours, too,” you tell him, locating the bright purple bag you’d put his gift in and extricating it from beneath the tree. “Here.”
He murmurs a thank you, his face creasing into a smile, and you watch him rifle through the bag for a moment before peeling back the golden paper that he’s wrapped your present in. The box inside is made of nondescript white cardboard, and your jaw drops open when you remove the lid.
“How—how did you know I wanted this?”
Jungkook fiddles with his hair, tucking a few loose strands behind his ear. “I saw you eyeing it a few weeks ago, when we were walking home from the bowling alley. And then again, after we went to dinner. Do you like it?”
You run a fingertip along the ridges of the knit scarf, admiring the pattern and the softness of the yarn. “I love it, Jungkook. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, his smile broadening as he turns his attention back to your gift. The last bits of tissue paper fall away, and his eyes widen like saucers when he reads the label of the box. “Hang on. Did you buy me a new headset?”
You nod. “Yeah. You mentioned that yours broke, right?”
“Yeah, but…” He trails off. “Wow. Thank you, really. These aren’t cheap. I was going to pick up a pair during the summer sale.”
“I found a coupon, don’t worry,” you tell him with a laugh. “I’m just glad I bought the right kind.”
He grins. “And you really like the scarf? Honest? It was kind of hard to tell what you were looking at when we walked by the store.”
“Just the fact that you noticed me staring is already impressive,” you tell him, giggling. “And yes, I love it. It’s perfect.”
Jungkook reaches out and takes it out of the box, the knit material unraveling to its full length. “Not yet,” he says, beckoning you to lean in. And when you do, he settles it around your neck with a quiet tenderness that has your heart skipping several beats before taking a nosedive into your churning stomach.
Maybe he’s doing it for show, you reason. Your entire family is here, and if anyone had any doubts about the truth of your relationship, they’ve surely been allayed now. Jungkook is close enough for you to count each individual eyelash fluttering against his cheeks as he blinks, and you make it all the way to seven before your gaze drops to the little freckle on the tip of his nose, and then even further to the one that sits beneath his bottom lip.
“There. Now it’s perfect,” Jungkook says, pulling one fringed end through the knot he’s created and brushing a few stray yarn fibers off your cheek. The emotion that suffuses your chest at the touch is so overwhelming that you momentarily lose the ability to speak, but luckily, you don’t have to.
“Don’t think we’ve forgotten about you, Jungkook!”
Your mother’s voice jerks you out of your daze, and you tear away from your companion’s touch as if burned. Jungkook glances up, wide-eyed, and you watch the confusion etch across his face when he spots the brightly colored bag dangling from your mom’s hand.
“We got you a little something,” she explains, holding the bag out for him to take. “It isn’t much, I’m afraid. But with any luck, you’ll be able to get some use out of them.”
Jungkook accepts the gift and lowers it into his lap, taking out the items one by one—two pairs of patterned wool socks, a novelty mug that reads This is my bah hum mug!, and a pair of red knit mittens that you recognize as Gram Gram’s handiwork. “These are lovely,” he remarks, fingering the bright yarn. “Thank you so much, Mrs. {Last Name}.”
Your mom waves off his gratitude. “No need to thank me, dear. We’re just happy that you’re here to celebrate with us.”
Molly rises from her spot in the pile of candy wrappers that’s overtaken most of the carpeted floor, a brown headband dangling from her chocolate-stained fingers. “This is for you, too,” she says, marching over to Jungkook and placing the headband crookedly on his head. Jungkook beams and adjusts it so that the end isn’t jabbing into the shell of his ear, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of the sequined reindeer antlers sticking out from each side, the bells at the tip jingling each time he moves his head.
“Smile,” you tell him, opening up your camera app, and he immediately does as requested, his lips curving up at the edges.
“So?” he asks once you’ve lowered your phone again. “Am I pretty like a prince?”
You glance down at the photograph you’ve just taken, the butterflies in your belly beginning to stir. “Yeah,” you murmur after a second’s hesitation. “Definitely.”
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It takes another hour for everyone to finish unwrapping their gifts. The younger children are dutifully trading the last pieces of candy they have for their favorites, and Jungkook has migrated over to the other side of the room to thank your Gram Gram for the mittens. She’s holding his tattooed hand between both of her smaller ones and animatedly saying something that you can’t quite make out over the general commotion, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with you.
You’re picking up discarded ribbons, gathering them into one of the many empty boxes scattered around the room, when Jungkook returns to your side. “Have you heard?” he asks. “Apparently, we’re going sledding.”
You laugh. “Yeah, it’s an annual tradition. There’s a park with a giant hill about two blocks away, where I used to go every day in the winter as a kid.”
Jungkook raises a dubious brow. “Every day?”
“Every day,” you confirm. “Ask my mom for the photo albums. She’ll show you.”
He chortles. “I’m not sure we have time to sit and look at photo albums. It looks like Molly and Sadie are starting to get impatient.” Pointedly, he inclines his head at the two girls, who have started an impromptu wrapping paper ball fight. You heave a sigh and step in to intervene, and after ten minutes and quite a bit of wrangling, the living room is passably clean and devoid of candy wrappers and ribbon bows.
The sun is shining bright overhead when you open the front door, glinting off of the fresh snow that’s fallen sometime during the night. Walking over to the garage, you enter the door code and step back as it eases open with a rumbling mechanical whirr. “We keep the sleds in the back,” you inform Jungkook, who’s joined you as you begin to make your way around the car parked inside, the reindeer headband still perched proudly atop his head. “Can you grab the three big ones?”
Jungkook complies, easily reaching up to unhook the plastic sleds from where they’re hanging above a shelf of gardening supplies. You grab the other sleds from where they’re leaning against the wall—a few bright orange discs each about the size of a trash can lid—and turn back to where your cousins are waiting near the door. “Remember, you all have to share, okay?” you tell them in the sternest voice you can muster. Dutifully, they nod, and you and Jungkook begin the long task of herding them two blocks in the direction of the park.
There are already a few children there when you arrive, shrieking with laughter as they fly down the hill on multicolored sleds. The older cousins immediately dart off to join them, and you stifle a giggle when one of them bellyflops into the snow and goes spinning sideways before gravity takes hold and drags him down the incline.
“‘Kookie?” Molly is standing at Jungkook’s side, her head of brown curls reaching no higher than his waist as she tugs on the sleeve of his puffy black coat. “Can you ride with me?”
Jungkook kneels down and takes her hand in his mittened ones, and you belatedly realize he’s already putting your Gram Gram’s gift to good use. “Is this your first time sledding, Molly?” he asks.
Tentatively, she nods, and Jungkook smiles and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Come on,” he says, taking the long pink sled she’s pulling behind her. “You sit down first, okay? I’ll be right behind you.”
“I don’t wanna go too fast,” Molly declares, and Jungkook nods in understanding.
“We’ll start here then, okay? The hill isn’t as steep on this side.” Carefully, he sits down behind Molly, his legs on either side of her small frame. He urges her to hang on to the sled’s rope handle, checking to make sure she has a good grip on it before pushing off with his hands. The momentum is just enough to tip the sled over the crest, and physics does the rest. They cruise down the hill smoothly, coming to a gradual stop at the bottom, and you can see from the delighted grin on Molly’s face that she loved every minute.
“That was so fun!” she shrieks, waving at you. “You gotta come down too, {Name}!”
You heft your own sled, swallowing down the dangerous warmth that’s threatening to burst forth from your chest and release the horde of butterflies that have taken up residence there. “I’m coming!” you call, your childhood muscle memory returning full force as you take a short running start before flopping down onto your sled. The added momentum launches you down the hill, the icy wind stinging your cheeks, and by the time you come to a stop at the bottom you’re grinning so wide your entire face hurts.
“Let’s go again!” Sadie and Dakota have joined Molly, and all three of them are now looking expectantly at you and Jungkook. “Can you push us so we go even faster?”
“Sure,” Jungkook says agreeably. “Just give me one sec, okay?”
The kids nod and dart off, racing each other back up the hill with the sled in tow. Jungkook tugs off one of his new mittens with his teeth, reaching into his coat pocket for a hair tie, and you try not to stare as he gathers his wavy hair at his crown and fastens it into a loose little bun that leaves only a few strands to frame his face. “Ready to head back up?” he asks, offering you a hand.
You hesitate before taking it, your fingers curling around his warm palm as he pulls you to your feet. Jungkook puts his mitten back on, and you murmur a thanks when he gallantly volunteers to pull the sled back up the hill in your stead.
The hours fly by—filled with laughter and snow flying every which way when your eleven-year-old cousin, Damien, starts an impromptu snowball fight. Your mother calls you halfway through to check in, and you reassure her that everyone’s doing just fine as you duck behind a nearby tree for cover. A new notification sits on your screen when you end the call, kimdaily’s name emblazoned there like a taunt, but you swipe it away after a moment’s hesitation and rejoin the snowball fight, rushing to Jungkook’s aid as Damien and a few others launch a particularly pointed attack.
“Oh my god!” you cry as Damien hefts up a chunk of snow the size of a basketball. “Jungkook, watch—!”
Your warning comes too late. The snow smashes into Jungkook’s side with a thwump, and he staggers back a few steps before losing his balance and falling to the ground. Damien sprints off, cackling like the maniacal little terror he is, and you dart over to Jungkook with every intention of helping him back to his feet.
The icy patch on the ground throws a wrench in that plan. Your boot skids across the slick surface, and you flail helplessly before gravity brings you down atop Jungkook’s chest and nearly knocks your forehead against his. Your faces are mere centimeters apart, all the air having escaped your lungs at the impact, and your eyes widen in horror when you realize that he’s probably faring no better with almost the entirety of your weight resting atop him. “Oh my god,” you gasp, trying and failing to stand up again. Your feet slip almost immediately, sending you tumbling back down onto Jungkook, your breaths intermingling as you fight to recover the lost oxygen. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Jungkook’s chest rumbles, and to your surprise, he’s laughing. “You should see the look on your face,” he wheezes. “You’re acting like I died, or something.”
You manage to roll off of him at last, sitting up straight and fixing him with a glare. “I could’ve really hurt you!”
“But you didn’t,” he replies simply, still flat on his back in the snow. “Not really, at least. My sternum hurts a little, but I’ll recover.”
“We should still take a closer look when we get back to the house,” you remark, laying a hand on his shoulder as he sits up. “It’s getting close to dinnertime, anyway. I’m going to start rounding up the kids.”
“I’ll help,” Jungkook says, accepting the hand you offer him as he clambers back to his feet. “Lead the way.”
Dinner is a haphazard affair. Half of your family members take up residence in front of the television, watching holiday reruns of The Great British Baking Show, while a smaller group starts a game of poker at the kitchen table, where by the sound of it, Great Aunt Martha is making a killing. A few of your cousins decide they want to bake cookies after the meal, and you and Jungkook end up supervising the entire affair, from the mixing of the dough—which is when you catch Dakota trying to make off with all the chocolate chips before they can be added—to the time it takes the double batch of cookies to bake. You stir up two mugs of hot cocoa as Jungkook carefully transfers the last of the cookies to the cooling rack, handing one over to him as he finishes up and turns off the oven.
“You know, these turned out surprisingly good,” you remark, picking out a warm cookie and taking a bite. “I thought for sure they’d mixed up the sugar and salt earlier.”
“Not to mention all the vanilla extract they poured in,” Jungkook adds, shuddering. “You’re right, though. These are good.”
Loading up a plate with cookies, you and Jungkook take it to the living room alongside your cocoa. The couches are already occupied, so you grab a few discarded throw pillows and a tartan throw from the armchair where your father is sitting. Tossing the pillows on the ground in front of the fireplace, you take a seat and lay the blanket over your lap. Jungkook joins you, and when you offer him a corner of your blanket, he gratefully accepts.
“How’s your sternum feeling?” you ask.
He hums, leaning back against the pillows and taking a sip of his hot cocoa. “It’s fine. Nothing a cookie or two can’t fix.”
He’s eaten well over two cookies by this point—not to mention several balls of raw cookie dough—but you decide not to bring up those particulars. Instead, your gaze drops down to his mouth, where a dollop of whipped cream has made a home along his upper lip.
“Cream!” you blurt.
Jungkook blinks, twice in quick succession. “Huh?”
Cheeks warming, you quickly clarify by gesturing at his mouth. Realization dawns across his face, and you watch as he raises a tattooed hand and swipes his knuckles across his mouth. “Better?”
You nod and bury your face into your mug, hoping that maybe if you drink enough cocoa, you’ll be able to drown the butterflies fluttering in your belly.
The fire crackles cheerily in the fireplace behind you, warming your back. It’s nothing compared to the heat emanating off of Jungkook though—his proximity igniting molten warmth in your veins every time he reaches out to grab a cookie from the plate in your lap or takes a sip from his mug, his lips pursing around the rim. On the other side of the room, an episode of The Great British Baking Show comes to a close, the credits rolling across the screen.
Evidently, Sadie and Molly have no intention of letting that time go to waste. The two little girls trundle over—Sadie wearing the reindeer antlers that Molly gave Jungkook earlier in the day—and plop down at the edge of the tartan throw that you and Jungkook are sharing.
“Are you in love?”
You choke on your cocoa. Next to you, Jungkook stiffens into a statue. “Are we what?”
“In love,” Sadie repeats, oblivious to your sputtering panic. “Like in the movies.”
“We—” You’re at a loss. “We, uh…”
Jungkook recovers his voice and mobility before you can stammer out another garbled syllable. “Yeah. We are,” he says, and you nearly choke again. Sadie and Molly, however, look pleased.
“When did you know?” Molly presses.
“How do you know?” Sadie asks.
Jungkook glances over, locking eyes with you for a split second before his gaze skitters away. “I realized it pretty recently, I guess. The more time I spent with her, the more I liked her.”
The girls turn to you. “What about you, {Name}?” Molly asks. “How do you know you love Kookie?”
You inhale deeply and release it back out again, trying to quell the panic beating at your heart. “I… I guess I just like spending time with him. He makes me laugh.” Out of the corner of your eye, you chance a look at Jungkook, who’s rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at his toes. “And he always tries to cheer me up when I’m sad. It’s… nice.”
Molly sighs and steals a cookie from your plate. “I wanna be in love,” she says in between bites.
Jungkook reaches out to ruffle her brown hair. “It’ll happen one day, kiddo. Just wait and see.”
That seems to satisfy both girls. Cheerfully, they return to their spot in front of the television, leaving you alone with Jungkook and the palpable tension that’s settled in the air like fog.
You break the silence first. “I think I’m done with this,” you say, picking up your nearly empty mug and rising to your feet. “I’m gonna go rinse it out, and then I’m probably going to head upstairs for the night.”
Jungkook fidgets with the edge of the tartan blanket, picking at a loose thread. “I think I’m going to stay until the end of this episode,” he says, inclining his head at the new bakers on the television. “Can’t leave without seeing who wins, and all that.”
You manage the stiffest of nods before turning and fleeing the scene with your mug in hand and your heart in your throat. The butterflies in your belly are in a frenzy, their wings beating against the slats of your ribcage as if trying to break free, and it’s all you can do to throw your cup in the dishwasher before dashing past the ongoing poker game at the kitchen table and taking the stairs two at a time. The relative safety of your childhood bedroom is a welcome relief—a sigh escaping your lips as you close the door and collapse against it. For a few long seconds, you just breathe—feeling the oxygen swell in your lungs before releasing it out again into the open air.
Love. The word echoes in your mind and rattles around your brain, the mantra fraying at the delicate threads of your mended heart. Unbidden, your ex-boyfriend’s face materializes out of the morass of your consciousness, sparking a sharp pang in your chest that catches you by surprise with its ferocity.
It takes a few minutes for you to regain your composure, but when you do, you immediately head into the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Turning on the shower, you make good use of the time it takes for the water to heat up by grabbing your pajamas from your suitcase and brushing your teeth. By the time you’re finished, the water is hot, and you step underneath the spray to scrub your body and mind clean.
When you exit the bathroom, Jungkook is sitting at the edge of his side of the bed, scrolling idly through his phone. At the sound of the door opening, he looks up, his brown eyes locking with yours for a moment before he awkwardly clears his throat and tucks his phone away.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says, staring down at his palms. “I, uh, didn’t really think your cousins were ready for the truth about our relationship, so I figured a white lie wouldn’t hurt. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
You shake your head. “You didn’t upset me,” you tell him, slowly making your way to your side of the bed and rooting around for your charging cable. “You just… took me by surprise. That’s all.”
He huffs out a humorless chuckle. “Yeah. No kidding.”
Finally locating your charger, you plug in your phone. The device buzzes gently, the screen lighting up, and it’s impossible to miss the new notification bearing kimdaily’s name that lies in wait there. “Not again,” you sigh, sitting down and swiping it open.
Jungkook pauses on his way to the bathroom. “Everything okay?”
“It’s just my ex.” You wiggle your phone. “What do you think he’s posted now?”
He frowns. “Now? Did he post something earlier?”
You scroll through Namjoon’s profile for confirmation and nod. “Snowman. Few snow angels. And now he’s watching Love, Actually, apparently.”
You snort. “Right?”
Jungkook looks like he wants to say something else—you can see it written all over his face. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, his fingers stilling on the bathroom doorknob, and you raise a questioning brow when he hesitates a moment too long.
“What is it?”
He lets out the breath that he’s apparently been holding, releasing it all at once. “Is it okay if I ask what happened between you two?” he asks softly.
You freeze, and Jungkook immediately backtracks, waving a hand in dismissal as he scurries backward into the bathroom. “Never mind. Forget I asked. I’m being nosy.”
“You really are,” you agree, finding your voice at last. “But, it’s okay. I don’t mind. Honestly, I kinda think you deserve to know after all we’ve been through the past few weeks.”
Step by step, Jungkook ventures back into the bedroom and takes a cautious seat on the mattress beside you, taking care to give you plenty of space. He doesn’t say anything further, just sits silently and stares at his hands as he waits for you to begin. And after a few seconds, you finally do—sucking in a deep breath and exhaling in a flurry of words.
“We started dating in September. We were together for just over a year,” you begin. “And maybe it’s stupid, but that felt really significant for me. It’s why I told you to lie—to say that we’ve been dating since October. My family thinks that Namjoon and I broke up in August, just before our one-year anniversary. But really, we didn’t end things until October. I remember, because it was right after Jimin’s birthday party.”
“You were at a party?” Jungkook gapes. “That’s horrible.”
You shrug. “I know. But it was better than lying to ourselves for any longer.”
Jungkook hesitates, fiddling with one of the holes in his jeans. “Did… did he cheat?” he asks, and you sigh and shake your head.
“No, it was nothing like that. We just… grew apart, I guess. I don’t know how or when, but I woke up one day and it was like we were different people. And we realized we just didn’t make sense together. Not anymore.”
Jungkook shifts—the mattress rising and dipping with his weight. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a long beat of silence. “Growing apart from someone you used to be so close to—that’s probably one of the saddest things about growing up."
Your chest is beginning to feel a little too tight, your eyes stinging at the corners. “Yeah. No kidding.”
Jungkook seems to sense your mounting dismay, because he tentatively scoots a little closer. “It’s not all bad, though,” he murmurs, laying a hand on your shoulder. “I like to think it means you’re moving forward, and that you’re on the right path. Sometimes you take a detour, and sometimes you take a wrong turn. But I think that we all end up back on track, one way or another.”
You peer up at him through your lashes. “Are you saying that Namjoon was a wrong turn?”
“Probably,” Jungkook admits quietly. “But we all take the wrong turn sometimes. All that matters is that you’re back on the right path now.”
The tension in your shoulders eases somewhat, the tightness in your chest subsiding. “You really think I’m on the right path?”
He smiles. “Yeah. I do.”
Silence falls again, and Jungkook pats you on the shoulder one last time before slowly rising to his feet. He’s halfway to the bathroom when you call his name, and when he turns around curiously, you can’t quite bring yourself to look him in the eye. “Thank you,” you mumble, addressing your knees instead. “I really needed to hear that, I think. I haven’t really talked to anyone about what happened with Namjoon, and… I’m glad I finally did. So thank you.”
Jungkook hums, and when he answers, his voice is as soft as a breath of wind. “Anytime.”
That night, you sleep much easier, finding comfort in Jungkook’s presence beside you instead of disquiet.
You open your eyes to sunshine the next morning—a narrow beam shining through the gap in the curtains and illuminating the golden dust motes that float lazily around the otherwise dark bedroom. Contentedly, you let your eyes fall shut again, snuggling back into the cozy cocoon of your covers and relishing the almost stifling warmth pressed against your back. Off in the distance, you can hear the other occupants of the house beginning to stir, mattresses creaking and showers turning on. Already, you can make out the faint scent of coffee wafting upstairs from the kitchen.
Blindly, you reach out and fumble for your phone on the nightstand, your fingers scrabbling across the cardboard edges of a tissue box and the Hello Kitty alarm clock that you never had the heart to get rid of before finally landing on the sleek glass screen. You tug the device toward you to check the time, grunting when the charging cable runs out of slack, and clumsily try to roll closer to the nightstand when the arm around your waist tightens and thwarts your escape.
The realization hits you then—slamming into you like a cargo train. You’re in bed with Jungkook. Jungkook, whose arm is currently wound around your waist—and now that you’re paying attention, whose face is buried in the back of your neck and whose breath you can feel against the delicate skin of your nape. “Oh, shit,” you breathe. “Shit, shit, shit.”
There’s no way you can possibly escape his embrace without waking him, but you try nonetheless, twisting and turning out of his grasp. Jungkook lets out a hoarse groan as you finally squirm free, rolling onto his back, and you eye him warily as he suppresses a yawn behind his palm.
“G’morning,” he rasps, his voice a full octave lower than normal. “What time is it?”
You grab your phone off the nightstand, clutching onto it like it’s a lifeline. “Just after eight.”
“Mm.” Jungkook grunts out something unintelligible, rubbing at his eyes drowsily before pushing himself up into a sitting position. “We just have that breakfast today, right? The sendoff thing?”
You nod. Every year, your family wraps up the holiday weekend with a big breakfast bash—one last hearty meal before everyone has to drive or fly back to their own homes and lives. It’s a disorganized affair at best, but the food is always delicious and you always leave with leftovers that reheat well. “Yeah. Supposedly, it starts at ten, but it really just depends on when everyone decides to show up.”
Jungkook chuckles. “They’ll come when they’re hungry.”
The sun rises higher into the sky as you and Jungkook take turns in the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting dressed. You’re pulling on your favorite pair of fuzzy socks when Jungkook comes out with his hair still damp from the shower, the occasional droplet dripping down and sinking into the fabric of his charcoal crewneck sweatshirt. The sleeves are rolled up to expose the network of branching veins that run along his forearms, and the sizable rip in the left knee of his jeans reveals thigh muscles that you didn’t even know existed, but you determinedly force your gaze back down to your toes as he putters around and puts his silver earrings back into his ears.
As soon as you step into the hallway, you can smell and hear bacon sizzling. Together, you and Jungkook head down to the kitchen where your parents are standing at the stove, each with a pan in front of them and hard at work.
“Morning, kids,” your mother greets, waving her spatula. “We’re running low on coffee—would you mind brewing some more?”
“Sure.” You make your way over to the coffeepot, filling up the machine with fresh water and ground beans. Your father enlists Jungkook’s help with something at the stove, and you can’t help but smile when Jungkook obligingly dons the pastel pink daisy apron from yesterday in preparation.
The morning wears on. Aunt Donna and Uncle Bill join you in the kitchen, helping where they can. One by one, the cousins awaken from their slumber in the living room and begin slinking into the kitchen for something to snack on, and your mother is quick to send them off with little bowls of diced strawberries topped with a dollop of whipped cream.
Right as the clock strikes ten, the doorbell starts ringing—signalling the arrival of the rest of your family. They troop in, raucous as ever even after two days together, and the conversation lasts through the cooking and well into the meal. In fact, you’re positive that they could’ve kept conversing until the new year, but Uncle Bill checks his watch and cuts into a discussion about Christmas tree shortages by loudly dropping his silverware onto his empty plate and clearing his throat.
“Well, I hate to say it, but we’ve got a flight to catch in a couple hours. We should really be heading out.”
And with that catalyst, the rest of your family gradually follows suit. The relatives who live far away start saying their goodbyes, and Great Aunt Martha cites her bad back as all the more reason she should drive back to her house across town now and get some rest. Jungkook gets his fair share of goodbyes and warm wishes as well, and you briefly overhear Great Aunt Martha telling him that he better be back next year with a ring to put on your finger. Several cousins run up to hug him, and Molly and Sadie, in particular, wrap themselves around his legs and refuse to let go. Your heart swells in your chest when he finally extricates himself and crouches down to embrace each of them in turn.
Before long, the time finally arrives for you and Jungkook to make the drive back to the city. You hug your parents and promise to text them once you’re home safe, and your mother hands over a paper bag filled with more containers of leftovers than you can count. “Be sure to add some milk to the mashed potatoes before you reheat them,” she advises. “And don’t you dare put the pie in the microwave!”
“I know, Mom,” you tell her, laughing. “I hate soggy crust as much as you do.”
Smiling, she turns to Jungkook and presses a plastic container into his hands. “These are the leftover cookies, dear. We aren’t going to eat them, but I know you were enjoying them last night.”
Jungkook opens his mouth, no doubt to protest her generosity, but she cuts him off by wrapping him in a tight hug. “Drive safe,” she tells him, and he nods.
“I will.”
“Take care of my little girl,” your father cuts in. “You don’t hurt her now, you hear me?”
Aghast, you turn to him. “Dad!” you begin, but Jungkook just laughs and nods again.
“Yes, sir.”
There’s no traffic on your way back to the city, for which you are grateful. You aren’t sure you could stand any more time trapped in a car with your dark-haired roommate, painfully aware of every flex of his arms and every tick in his jaw as he drives. By the time he finally parks the car, you are practically ready to jump out of your skin—your knees jittery and your heart pounding dangerously hard against your ribs.
“Thank you for doing this,” you tell Jungkook as you open the car door and climb out. “Now we can finally go back to normal.”
“Right,” he says. “Normal.” And as you turn and head for the front door, you completely miss the fleeting look that flits across his face.
“So, when exactly did you go blind?”
Jimin has you cornered in the bathroom, caging you in with his body, and despite your best friend’s lithe appearance he is in firm possession of a solid frame of dense muscle and all the stubbornness of a mule. “What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to push past him, but he holds his ground and flicks you on the forehead for good measure.
“You heard me,” he says. “Or have you gone deaf, too? Maybe you’re just a bigger idiot than I thought you were. Or are you being stupid on purpose?”
Irritably, you cross your arms over your chest and shift your weight, tapping your socked foot against the tiled floor. “Okay, did I miss a memo? When did we agree to start being needlessly cruel to each other?”
“Since you decided to start being stupid,” Jimin replies bluntly. “Seriously, {Name}. Can’t you see that he really likes you?”
Once again, you try and fail to shove past Jimin. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jimin huffs out an exasperated sigh. “Jungkook!” he hisses, casting a wary glance at the cracked bathroom door before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Jungkook likes you, you idiot. I’ve never seen him like this, and I’ve known him for going on eight years now. Things are weird between you two—don’t you feel it?”
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words escape. When you regain your voice at last, all you can manage is a weak stammer of protest, one that sounds unconvincing even to your own ears. “Don’t be ridiculous. Jungkook, he… he doesn’t like me. That’s insane.”
Jimin scoffs. “You’re insane, and I’m right. He’s been staring at you all afternoon—did you notice that? I don’t think he even knows what movie we just watched.”
“He was probably just spacing out or something,” you retort. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
That earns you another sigh. “It’s been two days since you came back from your parents’ house, right? Have you two even talked since then?”
“We talk,” you say defensively. “We put together a grocery list yesterday.”
“That doesn’t count, and you know it,” Jimin snaps. “Look, I know something happened over Christmas—it’s written all over your face. And you clearly like him too, so why don’t you go in there and do something about it?”
Your face heats up at the accusation, but you refuse to concede that easily. “Did your sister make brownies again or something? Are you high?”
Jimin, unfortunately, knows you far too well to fall for your deflections, his honey brown eyes narrowing in triumph. “I knew it!” he whispers excitedly, grabbing your shoulders and giving you a shake. “You like him, and he likes you. So, I’m going to make myself scarce now, and you are going to ask that boy out because it’s the twenty-first fucking century and women can make the first move if they want to.”
With that, Jimin turns on his heel and flings open the bathroom door, leaving you no time to protest and no chance to drag him back so you can tell him how wrong he is about everything. So you can tell him that you don’t like Jungkook, and he most certainly doesn’t like you.
You’re roommates. You’d probably even classify him as a friend, now. But to call him anything else? The mere thought sets your face aflame, so you turn on the sink and splash your face with copious amounts of cold water before exiting the bathroom.
“Jimin—” you begin as you enter the living room, only to stop dead in your tracks when you’re greeted by the sight of Jungkook and Jungkook alone.
“He just left,” your roommate says, rising from the couch, and you grit out a curse. “Is something wrong? Did something happen with you guys?”
“No, it’s just—” You sigh. “It’s just Jimin being Jimin. Like usual.”
“It almost sounded like you were fighting,” Jungkook notes, before he blanches and tries to walk back his statement. “Not that I was eavesdropping, or anything! I just, it’s just that I—”
You shake your head, cutting off his rambling. “It’s fine, Jungkook—we weren’t fighting. Jimin’s just being a pain in the ass about something.”
“He’s a pain in the ass about most things,” Jungkook points out with a chuckle, his eyes crinkling into crescents and his upper lip disappearing into his grin. The sun is just beginning to set, painting the walls of your living room with slanting rays of gold and casting his face in an ethereal glow. And though you hate to admit when you’re wrong, you can no longer deny the feelings bubbling up in your chest, warm and ebullient.
“Jungk—” you start, your voice scarcely above a whisper.
“Weshouldgetdinner!” Jungkook blurts suddenly, and you stop, blinking in confusion.
His cheeks flush, but he presses on nonetheless. “We should get dinner,” he repeats, the syllables dragging from his throat. “Like, as a date. A real one. I… I’ve been meaning to ask for a while now.”
Your mouth opens but no words come out, and Jungkook seems to take the silence as a bad sign. The glimmer of hope in his eyes fades, his shoulders slouching beneath his oversized black sweatshirt. “Sorry,” he mumbles, sinking back down onto the couch. “Forget I said anyth—”
It’s his turn to blink. “Huh?”
“Yes,” you repeat, taking a few tentative steps forward. “Yes, let’s get dinner, because I… I like you, Jungkook. I think I’ve liked you for a while now.”
A slow grin spreads across his face, as bright as the sun painting golden streaks through the sliver of sky visible from the window. “Sorry, I think I just went temporarily deaf,” he teases, swirling his pinky in his ear. “Could you repeat that?”
You huff, reaching out to smack his arm weakly. “God, you’re so embarrassing.”
“But you like it,” he replies, intercepting your hand and lacing your fingers together. “You like me. Now, where do you want to go for our first real date?”
“So,” Jungkook says, leaning back in his chair. “Here we are.”
The two of you are at the same restaurant you took him to just before your company’s holiday party, but this time you’re indoors instead of on the rooftop. The wooden decor is cozy and the lighting is dim, and every table is decorated with a spherical glass bowl that holds three floating candles, their flickering flames reflecting off the water and illuminating your companion’s face in warm, hazy gold.
“Here we are,” you agree with a grin. “Again.”
You both laugh, and the conversation starts from there—flowing so easily that you wonder how you ever lived a life without him in it. You swap silly childhood stories and share the details of your favorite vacations, and it feels like no time has passed at all when Jungkook pulls out his wallet to pay the check.
“My turn,” he says, plopping his credit card down, and his voice leaves no room for argument.
Snow begins falling as you and Jungkook head back in the direction of your shared home—fat white flakes flurrying down to land in your lashes and dust across your shoulders. Jungkook’s hair—loose and falling around his face in wispy waves—looks as if it’s been scattered with icy stars to match the constellations glimmering in his dark irises, and ever so slowly, you reach out to take his hand.
“Kiss me?” you request.
Jungkook’s gaze darkens. “Thought you’d never ask,” he breathes, and your palms fly up to his broad shoulders when he leans in at last and crushes his mouth to yours.
Somehow, the two of you manage to make it home, the snow on your clothes beginning to melt as soon as you step past the threshold. Jungkook kicks the door shut with a booted foot, and you sigh into his mouth as he rids you of your coat and cages you against the wall of the entryway. Soft lips trail from the line of your jaw down to the column of your neck, and you shiver when he finds a particularly sensitive spot near your clavicle and lets his teeth graze across it.
His hands are at your hips now, palming along the ridged corduroy of your skirt as his fingertips dig into the soft curve of your rear. Cupping his cheek, you bring him back into a kiss, relishing the unhurried way his mouth moves against yours even as hardness grows against your lower belly. Deliberately, you slide your palm down his chest, past the toned ridges of his abdomen and all the way down to the growing bulge in his jeans.
Jungkook stops you before you can brush against him, his fingers ironclad around your wrist. “Wait,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Maybe… we shouldn’t do this. Maybe we should take things slow.”
You fall limp in his grasp, and he slowly releases your hand so you can lower it back down to your side. “Slow,” you repeat, trying to hide your disappointment. “Right.”
Gentle fingers find your chin, tilting your face up so he can press a sweet kiss on your mouth. “I just don’t want to fuck this up,” he murmurs, his breath fanning your cheeks with every word. “I like you way too much for that.” Then he glances down to the tent in his jeans, awkwardly pulling his coat closed to obscure it.
The kiss doesn’t stop the disappointment from blooming in your belly, but you nod nonetheless. “Okay,” you whisper, letting your lips graze his once more. “We’re taking things slow, right? So, I guess this is the part where I say goodnight.”
Jungkook’s lips pull up into a tiny grin, his fingers reluctantly loosening their grip on your waist. “Okay,” he breathes. “Goodnight, {Name}.”
“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you reply, committing every last detail of his face to memory before turning and heading for your bedroom. Jungkook’s bedroom door closes behind him, and you stare at it for a moment before shutting your own. Taking a seat on the edge of your bed, you unbutton your skirt and kick it off your legs until it falls flat onto the carpet. Your tights meet the same fate, replaced quickly with flannel pajama pants, but your sweater you decide to keep on for a while longer as you meander into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face.
You’re still thinking of Jungkook when you climb into bed ten minutes later, now braless and dressed in an oversized t-shirt. You wonder if he’s in his pajamas, and whether he’s in bed or if he’s decided to start one of those late night gaming sessions that he seems to favor. You wonder what would happen if you walked across the living room and knocked on his bedroom door right now—if he would sweep you up and continue what you’d started or if he’d push you away. Your feet carry you over to your bedroom door before you even fully realize what you’re doing, your fingers already wrapped around the doorknob.
It takes a second for you to steel your nerves enough to open the door, but when you do, you see that you aren’t alone. Jungkook stands on the other side, his hand raised and poised to knock. Shock flits across his face, his mouth falling into a little ‘o’ of surprise, and you’re certain you’re mirroring his expression.
“H-hi,” you manage.
“Hi,” he replies. “Do you want to hear something stupid?”
Whatever you were expecting him to say, it certainly wasn’t that. “Um. Sure, I guess.”
Jungkook raises his hand, extending his pointer finger before jabbing it into the center of his chest. “It’s me. I’m stupid. I was brushing my teeth a few minutes ago, when I suddenly realized that I missed you. And that’s stupid, because I like you, and you like me, and you literally live on the other side of the living room.” Slowly, he glances up to meet your gaze, an expression of tentative hope painted across his features. “So, fuck taking things slow. Right?”
You’re already pressing to your tiptoes, fisting your hands in the collar of his white t-shirt to tug him down to your level. “Yeah,” you whisper, the butterflies in your belly taking off into celebratory flight. “Fuck taking things slow.”
Kissing Jungkook is quickly becoming one of your favorite things to do. His chest is bare beneath your fingertips, a canvas of honeyed skin and strong muscle for you to explore, and you take full advantage as he works your lips apart and licks ardently into your mouth. Wandering hands crawl beneath the hem of your oversized t-shirt, pushing up the material to expose the swell of your breasts. Your nipples pebble at the exposure, and Jungkook groans as he rids you of your shirt entirely before leaning in to envelop one in his warm, wet mouth.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” he rasps, the vibrations of his voice sending a delicious shiver down the length of your spine. “Been thinking about how nice your tits always look—and fuck, this is better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
Breathlessly, you wind your arms around his neck, your fingers delving into his thick hair and tugging until he takes the hint and slants his mouth across yours once again. His hands settle below the swell of your ass, pulling you close, until you’re settled firmly in his lap with your legs on either side of his denim-clad thighs, his name escaping you in a sigh as he deepens the kiss.
Jungkook smiles against your lips. “Pretty girl,” he croons, pulling away just enough to murmur the words as his thumbs dip into the waistband of your panties. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest when he discovers the growing wetness between your legs, two fingers skimming through the slick before he presses experimentally against your clit. Your hips jump at the pressure, and he smirks in satisfaction.
Ever so slowly, he gathers you up in his arms, shifting until he can lay you back against your mattress. The sheets rumple beneath you as he crawls up your body to plant a sweet kiss on your waiting mouth, before returning his attention to the soft spot on your clavicle that he’s already discovered, lavishing it with attention until you’re gasping.
Jungkook reads your body like it’s his favorite poem, exploring every line and stanza until he’s committed the words to memory and making note of every stutter and hitch in your breath. There’s an art in the way he repeats the motions that make you keen, and something sensual in the way his lips curl every time he pulls out a whimper. You’re trembling by the time he reaches the apex of your thighs, his fingers closing around the elastic of your panties and pulling them down and off your legs. Tossing them aside, he lays his hands on your knees, his gaze locking with yours as he spreads you open and settles into the space he’s created. Instinct has you trying to close your legs and embarrassment has you shying away from his stare, but he presses a fond kiss to the soft skin of your inner thigh and soothes you with a soft murmur of your name.
“Don’t hide from me,” he breathes. “You’re gorgeous.”
Then he’s leaning in, and your breath hitches in your throat when he boldly licks a broad stripe up your exposed pussy. Your fingers fly down to his hair, tangling in the silky strands as he finds your clit and gives it an experimental suck. Pleasure flares in your belly, your hips jolting off the mattress, and Jungkook chuckles as he settles himself more comfortably and winds his arms around your legs to keep you spread open for him, the inky tattoos swirling around his right arm only emphasizing the muscle.
“I thought about this, too, y’know” he murmurs, circling your clit with his tongue before dipping down to your slit and lapping up the juices there. “Thought about how good you probably taste, and how pretty you’d look cumming on my tongue.” He inhales deeply, his eyes fluttering shut, and your cheeks warm when you see the slick coating his lips and chin. “And fuck, I was right. You taste fucking divine.”
It should be strange, hearing such filth spewing from your normally mild-mannered roommate’s lips. It should be odd, seeing him nestled between your spread thighs with his long hair in disarray, his eyes hooded and darkened into obsidian. But the strangest thing is that it doesn’t feel strange or odd—it feels good. Right. As if this is where you were meant to be, all along.
Warm palms smooth up your thighs, splaying against your belly. Jungkook leans down to press a soft kiss to your clit, his lips teasing at the sensitive little bundle of nerves, and when your hips jump in his grasp, he lets out a hoarse chuckle that rumbles straight to your core. Slowly, he moves down to your slit, alternating long licks along the length of your pussy with firm suction on your clit. Your body thrums beneath his ministrations, your legs beginning to tremble, and Jungkook doubly renews his efforts when your thighs clench a little tighter around his head. His wet, hot mouth returns to your clit in full force, and you keen out his name when a finger slips into your cunt and curls up in search of the spot that’s sure to unravel you completely.
Said man releases your clit for a split second to coo your name, his hot breath washing against your slick folds. “Come on, baby,” he rasps. “Wanna make you cum. Wanna taste you, so bad.”
And with that, he eases a second finger in with the first. His lips wrap around your clit again, mouthing at it in time with the steady cadence of his fingers, and your breath grows ragged when he finally finds the soft spot he’s been looking for. He focuses his full attention on it, digging deep until you’re quaking, and you gasp again.
“Jungkook, I’m—! Fuck—”
One last swirl of his tongue around your clit proves to be your undoing. You shake apart in his ironclad embrace, your walls clenching around his fingers, and he continues lapping at you even as your vision goes white with pleasure. By the time you come back down from your high, a second wave is already brewing in your belly, coiling tighter and tighter as Jungkook tirelessly sucks your clit back into his mouth.
Your second orgasm is stronger than the first—breaking like a wave and spreading to every vein in your body like wildfire. Jungkook helps you through it, whispering sweet words of praise into the skin of your inner thigh and petting slow, sure circles around your sensitive nub until you fall limp in his arms.
“Good?” he chuckles.
“Good,” you breathe back. “So good, Jungkook. Fuck.”
In any other situation, you’d be tempted to slap the self-satisfied grin off his face, but you decide he’s deserved it in this case. The growing strain in the crotch of his jeans tells you that he deserves something else too, and you sit up slowly, still feeling rather boneless. Jungkook watches raptly as you reach for the button of his jeans and pop it open, swallowing harshly when you brush against his clothed erection. Gently, his hands settle over yours, helping you push his jeans off his hips so he can kick them off entirely, and your mouth goes dry when the entirety of his deliciously thick cock is revealed, bobbing insistently against his lower stomach.
Ever so slowly, Jungkook presses you down into the mattress, your back against the pillows piled along the headboard of your bed. His gaze meets yours as he settles between your legs once more, and you find that you can’t look away as he takes his cock in his tattooed hand and slides the head through the slick gathered in your slit, spreading it up and down the length of your pussy. “Okay?” he whispers, soft as a feather.
“Okay,” you murmur. “Jungkook, please.”
He obliges. Slowly, he rocks forward, the thick head of his cock parting your walls, and your mouth falls open at the sheer size of him. The glide is made easier by the considerable slick from your previous orgasms, but there’s still the slightest pinch of discomfort as he pauses and leans down to press a fond kiss to the soft spot at your collarbone. “Breathe, baby,” he encourages lowly, and you do as he says, sucking in a lungful of air and willing your body to relax.
Little by little, the discomfort ebbs away, replaced by a throbbing ache for more. Your hips rock, another inch of his cock slipping into you, and Jungkook takes it as a sign to continue pressing forward until he’s seated inside your body. The surge of fullness knocks all the air out of your lungs and leaves you floating and breathless, your fingers scrabbling along his back for something to hold onto as you try to find solid ground again. Jungkook waits patiently, nosing along your neck and trailing kisses up your throat, and you sigh when his mouth slants across yours at last. Your lips part to receive him, and he licks into your mouth until you’re arching off the mattress, your curves meshing with his lines.
Nimble fingers drop down to your clit then, tracing slow circles around the sensitive nub. Your hips jolt, the motion unintentionally sending him deeper, and the pleasure that flares in your tummy tears a sharp moan from your throat. Deliberately, you rock against him, encouraging him to move, and Jungkook obliges with a hoarse grunt, his chest heaving as he pulls back until only the head of his cock remains nestled within your walls. His thumb finds your clit again, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks across the sensitive bundle and sets all your nerves aflame.
Jungkook sets a slow, deliberate pace—one that has you clutching at the broad expanse of his back and gasping when he repeatedly hits the spot that has you seeing stars. The coil in your belly tightens with every thrust, the slick glide of his cock igniting your body and sending electricity dancing along your skin. A particularly hard rock of his hips sends you sliding backward on the mattress, and Jungkook grits out a groan when the motion jiggles the swell of your breasts. Leaning down, he catches a pebbled nipple in his mouth, and your back arches as he lavishes the nub with attention, desperately seeking out more contact.
When Jungkook’s thumb digs into your clit again, it proves to be too much. The sudden burst of pressure is accompanied by a harsh thrust that you practically feel in the back of your throat, and the combination sends you hurtling over the edge of your third orgasm of the night, wave after wave of white hot pleasure searing through your veins. Jungkook’s rhythm stutters as you clench wildly around him, and your name escapes him a hoarse groan as he follows you off the precipice, creamy warmth flooding your walls.
It takes a few long moments for the pleasure to recede, your breath slowing gradually and your eyes blinking open. Jungkook’s grin is wide, a chuckle escaping him as he wipes at the wetness slicking his bare chest, and your muddled brain wonders at the motion before the realization dawns, the horror following soon after.
“Oh my god.” You scramble back, your cheeks aflame, his softened cock slipping out from inside you as you bury your face in your hands. “I can’t believe I just—I mean, that’s never happened—”
Jungkook pulls your hands away and twines his fingers with yours, nosing at your neck until you finally work up the nerve to look at him. “Are you joking?” he asks. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”
You bury your face into the crook of his tattooed shoulder instead, shielding yourself in the inky petals and leaves. “It’s embarrassing, though.”
“No, it’s hot as fuck,” Jungkook corrects, his arms winding around your waist and pulling you close. “So why don’t we see if I can make you do it again?”
The sun has only just risen when you stir awake the next morning, roused by something that you can’t quite place. There’s a stifling warmth pressed against your back and a strong arm banded around your waist, and you can’t help but smile as you turn around in the embrace, coming face to face with your dark-haired roommate.
Jungkook is beautiful in this light—his hair like spilled ink against the cream of your pillows, the exposed skin of his neck and shoulders warm and golden. You can just barely make out the beginnings of his tattoos swirling along his right shoulder—a field of flowers curling up around the line of his collarbones. Gently, you reach out to run a fingertip along a delicately inked lily, tracing each petal.
When you pull back, Jungkook’s eyes are open, a slow smile curving across his face. “Hi,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse with sleep.
You smile back. “Hi.”
Beneath the covers, his arm tightens around your waist, his fingers tapping out a silent melody along the slats of your ribcage. “Sleep well?”
“Best night of sleep I’ve had in ages,” you admit, laughing. “You?”
“Honestly? Same.”
Yawning, Jungkook stretches his arms overhead and cranes around to grab his phone off the nightstand. Blearily, he wakes the screen and scans his notifications, his eyes narrowing as he zeroes in on one in particular. “Looks like our friend kimdaily’s back at it,” he says. “Have you seen?”
“No, I haven’t.” You shift a little closer to him and lay your head on his shoulder, relishing the way his arm immediately comes up to secure you in an embrace. “I turned off those notifications days ago.”
Jungkook’s answering grin is bright enough to rival the sun. Turning, he drops his phone back onto the nightstand before tugging you close and brushing a stray hair from your cheek. “So what now?” he asks. “Should we start thinking about breakfast?”
You lean in and press a long, lingering kiss to his mouth, your fingers already beginning to trail down past the ridges of his abdomen.
“Nah. Breakfast can wait.”
10K notes · View notes
formidxble · 4 months ago
𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆
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𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: fixing ties is a part of your job, so why is your boss acting like it isn’t?
𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 “𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆” 𝒃𝒚 2𝑷𝑴 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒔 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐
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𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bang chan x fem!reader 
𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 13k 
𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, fluff, slight angst, and established relationship || ceo!bang chan x secretary!reader
𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: romantic sex, dirty talk, (some) possessiveness, marking, oral (female receiving), praising, “sir” kink (? 👀), (some) begging, unprotected sex (remember to always stay safe!!!), creampie
a/n: this is a gift to all you who submitted ceo bang chan asks and to everyone who followed me! thank you so much for 500 followers. i’m a bit late, but thank you! <3 thank you all so much!
little update (061921): three steps back has been posted!! this is a prequel to this fic, but you don’t have to read it in order to understand this one!! 
three steps backˏˋ°•*⁀➷masterlist 
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taglist: @meow-minho @bxngchxn @dreamwrld​ @my-blueprint-haven @bobateastay @hyunsluvv @etherealeeknow @solistired @popisdead @arohabangtan @imagineinnie @happy-at-home @anna1126 @lattechans @yjunrecords @http-hyxnjxn @minaamhh @violethhj @changlix-mp4 @instachans @qtieskz @itsapapisongo @jisungcherry @healinghyunjin @asweeetdisposition @poutypoutybin @vogueinnie @fizzydrink698 @minniehohos
huge shoutout to @/popisdead for giving me an idea to put in the smut! you know what it is when you read it, l! 😌❤️
please don’t interact with this post if you are under the age of 18!
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here we go again.
being the bang chan’s secretary meant that you had to accompany him to every event that required a plus one— public events, soirees, sales pitches, all the like. for the longest time, people have linked you to him and that wherever he went, you were expected to be there. it was almost like clockwork and here you were, beside him again, as he talked to mister seo changbin, the company’s vice chairman and chan’s right hand man. you relax your shoulders slightly.
don’t get it wrong, you loved being with chan and getting to see all the wonderful event venues around the country. people in chan’s level and caliber always threw the grandest of parties and though it was tiring just following your boss around, it was still better than staying at home and fixing chan’s schedule for the week. you also get to meet other high profile names in the industry and the company’s investors, most of which are also in the party tonight.
the party was thrown by the company to celebrate another successful sale made by none other than bang christopher chan. everyone who’s here is here to celebrate chan’s leadership and his success as the company’s youngest CEO. and, not to mention, as changbin lovingly put it just now, “his cockiness”. you giggle beside chan, smiling sheepishly when he gives you a playful glare.
when chang— mr. seo excuses himself to go grab another drink from one of the waiters roaming the hall, chan turns to you with a soft smile, his eyes content. “enjoying?” he asks as he gently swirls the wine glass in his hand.
“trying to,” you tease. you stand up straighter beside him, aware that people have eyes on you. it was one of the complaints you had about being next to chan. he was the center of attention everywhere and because you were beside him always, people tended to stare after they give chan a bow or even if they were gazing from afar. you always had to look presentable and though it came with the job, it gets tiring after a while. chan raises an eyebrow.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you smile. “just a little uncomfortable. that’s all.”
chan hums as he blinks. he surveys the hall before nodding. “if you want, you can go talk to some of the people here.”
chan barely allowed you to leave his side during public events. since you became a staple of his public appearances, seeing him alone always rose some eyebrows. so, why was tonight any different? you scrunch your eyebrows, swallowing as you tilt your head. the side of chan’s lip quirks up as his eyebrows mimic yours. it takes a second for chan to realize why.
“don’t worry about me,” chan laughs. “it’s a company event, so, i guess i can let you go for a bit.”
you look around the hall, frowning to yourself when you don’t spot any familiar faces. how were you supposed to interact with the businessmen in this party and wouldn’t it be weird if you just slid in the conversation? chan senses your hesitation, sucking his lips in as he gazes at the area.
“there’s, um,” chan moves in closer, tilting his glass toward the direction of a small group, “hwang hyunjin. do you remember him?”
of course, you do. chan sent you to the man’s office to confirm a sale a few months ago. you tripped in front of his desk and he only stared at you when you dusted yourself off. it wasn’t the most embarrassing moment in your life, but it was up there on the list. you huff softly.
chan hums once more as he glances at you. “you can talk to him or“—he tilts his glass to another group— “to the people in the office.” he takes a quick sip of his wine before grinning. “get the latest office gossip, like who’s dating who, you know? just all that fun stuff that i don’t get to know.”
office gossip? chan’s asking for juicy office gossip? you can’t blame him. out of all the people in the office, chan’s not the go-to person to talk about office drama. part of you feels bad, but then again, why would he care about one of the interns getting dumped if he’s too busy making sure the company doesn’t go under?
you fight the urge to giggle as you nod. chan catches the smile on your lips and he shakes his head, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving his lips.
“go on,” chan shoos playfully. “go socialize.” you give him a quick bow and before you could say anything else, mr. seo comes back, a full wine glass in his hand once more.
you step aside to look at the two groups chan pointed out. you could play it safe and go to the group you see around the office or you could shoot yourself in the foot and go to the group of millionaires.
you look behind as you feel chan’s eyes on you. once your eyes meet, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his wine. maybe you could impress him by going to the other group. the thought makes you turn away from him, feet moving in the direction of hwang hyunjin’s group.
you realize that this was a bad idea the moment the blonde-haired man spots you walking towards them. he raises his glass to greet you, head tilted to the side in curiosity and amusement. when you get nearer, the chatter in the group dies down and your mouth grows dry. their stare burns your skin and you can’t help but feel out of place.
“miss y/l/n,” hyunjin calls out, opening his arm out to invite you in the circle. “what brings you to our humble group?”
humble is not a word in this group’s vocabulary, that’s for sure. you smile at them as you inhale through your nose. this is a chance to mingle with the country’s richest and though you were nervous, it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression, right? transactions in the future should be easier if you play your cards right. so, you part your lips and hum, “mr. bang wanted to get insider information and sent me over.”
the group laughs, almost rhythmically, like it’s been practiced before. nevertheless, the air grows lighter and beside you, hyunjin cracks a smile.
“that bastard. always one step ahead of us,” one of the men laughs. the other men join in and the conversation picks up where it left off— something about the trends in the market. not the most interesting of conversations, but you were already here.  hyunjin keeps his eyes on you and he leans over to your side.
“thank goodness you didn’t trip this time around.” your cheeks flush red and you laugh the statement off as you shake your head. “i thought i’d have to relive it all over again.”
“it must have been a nightmare, mr. hwang,” you play along softly. hyunjin hums.
“a nightmare for you, a comedy for me.”
if this was bang chan, you would have shamelessly smacked him. the thought makes you realize how easy-going everything is when it came to your work relationship with chan. after all, the two of you have been working together for almost a decade. during that time, you’ve gotten to know chan in ways his right-hand man hasn’t and he’s gotten to know you in ways previous employers haven’t. the line between work and friendship has been blurred for a long time now, but none of you have complained.
“i’m happy my pain provided entertainment, mr. hwang,” you tease. hyunjin chuckles before finishing his glass of wine. behind you, you feel a set of eyes travel down your back. you ignore the feeling.  
despite your lingering thoughts of chan, you couldn’t help but admire the man beside you. just like your boss, hwang hyunjin is one of the younger CEOs in the industry. he was younger than chan, but definitely carried himself in a manner that exuded superiority and grace, like he was on par with the men he’s standing with.
it seems to be the case because one of the businessmen in the group calls his attention, bringing him back to the conversation he was part of earlier. you frown when you see how loose his tie is around his neck.
someone’s secretary isn’t good with ties.
“not a good look,” you remember chan saying. like second nature, you reach over to grab hyunjin’s shoulder, gently turning him to face you. your hands find their way to the man’s tie, sliding the knot up to tighten it. when you look up, hyunjin’s eyes are on you and so are the eyes of the men around you.
the group grows silent and both of your breaths hitch. you’re frozen in your spot, blinking as you see hyunjin’s cheeks turn bright red. his eyes scan your face, panicked and confused. your hands on his tie start to shake and as you’re about to apologize, you feel a hand land on your lower back.
“i’m afraid i’d have to steal her for a bit, hyunjin,” you hear behind you. you bite your lower lip as you lean away from hyunjin, settling into the familiar hand. it takes a second for the blonde-haired man to recover, but he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as he forces a smile.
“go ahead,” hyunjin chuckles shakily. “i’m not about to steal your secretary from you.”
“i’d like to see you try,” chan laughs and as if on cue, the others laugh with him. you give hyunjin an apologetic look when your eyes meet and he responds with a quick bow of his head like it was his fault. you put on your best fake laugh, your heart beating in your ears.
once the men stop laughing, the jokes thrown out earlier dissipate into thin air. and as much as you’d like to believe that these men were all friends, you were knowledgeable enough about the industry to say that this was all for show— the bows, the greetings, the jokes, the laughs, them coming to the party to “celebrate” chan’s success, all of it.
hyunjin’s the first to speak again, moving away from you and chan to close the circle and get away from the awkwardness that has formed between the three of you.
you feel chan remove his hand from your lower back and he uses it to grab your hand. “let’s dance.” chan whispers in your ear. you wet your lip as he leads you to the dance floor and the crowd parts to make way for the man of the hour and his plus one.
chan has always made you feel like you were the only woman in the room and he does it again tonight when he circles around you, his hand not letting go and his eyes never leaving yours. chan grins as he closes the gap between you and you hear your own breath stop. your eyes trail down to his lips when he wraps an arm around your waist.
your heartbeat rings in your ear once more when you and chan start swaying in time with the music. “i thought you didn’t want to dance tonight,” you whisper.
“it doesn’t hurt to have a little fun, you know.”
you rest your forehead on his shoulder as you scoff internally. bang chan, the man whose head is always filled with work, even during events like this, now wants to have fun and dance with his secretary?
you could laugh, but instead you let him lead you on the dance floor. you and he have never done this and you wonder if he feels as nervous as you are. but knowing him, he would never show it, at least not right now.
as the both of you settle in the feeling of each other’s warmth, he mumbles, “you feel it too?”
you shiver as you lean back from his shoulder. you wanted to ask what he meant. was he referring to the way your heart skips a beat when you catch him staring from his office window or when he throws you a soft smile when he walks by your desk? or was he talking about the way his hand lingers for way too long when you give him his coffee or the way his hand subtly reaches out for yours when it’s close to his?
you weren’t stupid. of course, you’ve felt it. everyone in the office has, except for bang chan himself.
maybe it’s not insanity after all. your colleagues aren’t talking out of their asses and there’s a chance, no matter how small it is, that bang chan felt it too. whatever it may be.
chan clicks his tongue when you don’t answer, his eyes scanning your face as you struggle to come up with a coherent thought. he breaks the eye contact before looking around the hall. “everyone’s watching.”
you feel a quick pang of pain in your chest. bang chan, the youngest CEO of his family’s company and the smartest out of all the men in here, is the most oblivious man you’ve ever come across. heat creeps up onto your cheeks and you mentally smack yourself in the head. you were crazy for even hoping that you were both on the same wavelength. it’s just not possible, no matter how much you romanticize the whole situation. you swallow as you nod, hanging your head gently as the both of you continue to sway.
“don’t be shy,” chan chuckles softly. “you’re doing great.”
“yeah, right,” you mumble, playing off the embarrassment and the pain bubbling in your chest. you see a flash of worry pass chan’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.
the dance floor slowly fills up with the other couples in the hall, taking the prying eyes off of the two of you. for now. you let out a shaky exhale as chan’s hand squeezes yours.
“you also did great with hyunjin’s tie.”
you raise your eyebrows in surprise, letting out a soft, but nervous giggle. “i have enough experience with yours, sir.” chan snorts before rolling his eyes playfully. he spins the both of you around, wading through the other couples as smoothly as he could manage.
“my ties are of better quality, miss y/l/n. you, of all people, would know.” chan chuckles before his eyes leave yours. he pulls you in closer to him, inhaling softly when you collide with him. what that was for, you don’t know, but you’re close enough to feel his breath on your skin. there must be something in the air.
or maybe he’s just drunk. who knows, really?
“right,” you tease after a few beats of silence, “your ties are imported and his are...?”
“probably imported too,” chan shrugs. “he has the money.”
you scrunch your nose, pulling back from his embrace. “you have to make up your mind. you either talk about him behind his back or you compliment him.” chan tilts his head as he shrugs again, eyes filled with amusement. “you can’t do both.”
“i can do both,” chan mumbles. “i just did it, yes?”
you feel a set of eyes on the both of you, but this time you couldn’t care less. chan, with his charm, wit, and annoying smile, has managed to calm your nerves yet again. it makes you wonder if there was ever a line between friendship and work with the two of you.
you’re taken back to reality as you and chan sway in a comfortable silence, letting the orchestra take you to a world only the two of you knew. you sigh as you turn your head and rest your cheek on his shoulder. you inhale the scent of his cologne, the one you’ve come to know and love after all these years.
“hey,” you hear chan say after a while. you raise your head to meet his eyes before raising an eyebrow. “don’t fix anyone else’s ties when we’re together, okay?”
“are you jealous?” you taunt as you try not to focus on the fact that bang chan’s lips are right there, plump, red, and lonely. chan scoffs, his arm around your waist tightening.
“should i be?”
you laugh, throwing your head back dramatically as chan twirls the both of you around. when he stops, your eyes meet again and he gives you another grin. “you sound like you are.” his grin disappears as quickly as it formed, turning into a small, playful snarl.
“do i? that’s interesting,” chan teases, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. “i just,” he breathes, “don’t appreciate you going around the place fixing every man’s tie in here.”
you giggle, lightly smacking chan’s shoulder. “i fixed one, chan,” you snicker. “i fixed one tie. one!”
“that’s one too many ties, sweetheart.” the nickname travels throughout your body. it’s something he’s never called you before. you blush once more, turning your head away from him as you pretend to look at the other couples dancing. chan hums in front of you, unwrapping his arm around you to instead plant his hand on your waist.
“i was just doing my job,” you mutter. chan licks his bottom lip before he responds. your breath stops when you catch him taking in your facial features, but within a second, his eyes travel back to yours.
“i don’t think ‘fixing hwang hyunjin’s tie’ was part of the contract you signed years ago.”
“but fixing your tie is?” you retort.
chan grins at how fast you respond, shrugging playfully before twirling you around. the couples beside you gasp and giggle, your cheeks heating up at the sudden motion and attention. when you return to chan, he’s chuckling as he wraps his arm around your waist again, pulling you into his torso once more.
“you signed up for that the moment you were hired,” chan mutters, lips painfully close to yours. you swallow as your body starts to grow hot from the lack of space between the two of you.
for a moment, the people around you disappear and you could only focus on the way chan’s breath comes in contact with your skin. when he notices your eyes on his lips, he grins as he continues. “that means you’re only fixing my tie.”
you bite your lip when he leans in to whisper, his arm lowering to a place that you weren’t used to, “and the last time i checked, we’re still in a party thrown for me. in my company. in my house.”
your eyes widen when he pulls away, putting a small space in between the two of you. his arm loosens around you and you can’t help but long for its warmth again. your cheeks are flushed red when you part your lips to say, “chan, i—“
“don’t apologize,” chan interrupts, tilting his head as his arm comes back up to its previous position. it’s as if the words that left his mouth earlier were nothing important, like it wouldn’t keep you up at night. “just do better next time.”
you were used to hearing those words from chan, being his secretary. you had to admit that you  weren’t the best one for the job, almost always messing up the man’s schedule or just being plain absentminded while you’re sat on your office chair. you’ve lost track of how much you’ve put chan through, but it was always the same seven words he utters when he helps you clean up the mistakes. it’s a miracle you’re still his secretary, almost a decade after.
“as always,” you stutter softly, your breath betraying you when it hitches.
you see the couples on the dance floor dispersing and before you could move away from chan, he pulls you back into his chest to whisper, “let’s get out of here.” you raise an eyebrow.
“this early?” chan nods in response.
“in 10 minutes,” he turns the both of you to the direction of the back door, “i’ll be waiting for you over there.”
you blink at him as his words replay over and over in your mind. bang chan was the type to finish parties to the point that sometimes, you and he were the last people to leave the venue. but now, he wants to leave the party that was thrown specifically to celebrate him?  
“this is new,” you choke out. chan chuckles as he steps away from you, hand still not letting go of yours. he brings the back of your hand to his lips and gives it a soft peck. his lips linger on your skin and when his eyes come up to meet yours, he smirks.
“10 minutes.”
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when you look at the obnoxiously large clock on the stage at the end of the room, you realize that the minutes have flown by before you even started counting them.
meeting chan’s eyes from across the room, you knew that it was time to leave. he puts his wine glass on the table beside him, giving one of the businessmen a pat on the back as he excuses himself. when he disappears into the crowd, you clasp your hands together as you wonder what he had planned for the remainder of the night.
your eyes fall on chan when you arrive. he’s resting his back on the wall behind him and his shoulders are slumped, a stark contrast from the way he looked inside earlier. his hands are inside his pockets and the top two buttons of his black formal polo are now unbuttoned. he’s looking at the floor as he waits, his foot tapping to the rhythm of the song being performed in the other room. the echo of your heels in the empty room grabs chan’s attention and he raises his head to meet your eyes, a smile on his lips. 
“ready to go?” he asks.
“to where, exactly?” you hum, grabbing your phone from your dress pocket to give chan’s driver a quick text.
like the way your breath hitches, your movements halt when chan opens the back door for you. shouldn’t you be the one to open it for him and not the other way around? you motion forward with your hand and chan shakes his head.
“ladies first.”
“listen, i don’t know what you’re doing,” you start, “but i know you’re expecting something in return after this.” chan lets out an exhale through his nose as he smiles. “so, i think you should step out first.”
“maybe, i just want to do something for you this time,” chan shrugs. “have you ever thought of that?”
chan watches the way your cheeks heat up and before any of you could say anything else, you hear a honk outside. he’s the first to break the eye-contact, looking behind to wave at his driver. he turns his attention back to you with a cheeky grin on his lips.
“like i said, ladies first.”
you narrow your eyes toward him, but you step out nonetheless. behind you, you hear the door close and chan’s walking toward the car before you could blink. you follow after him, your heels clacking on the concrete. you overtake him as you near the car, your hand gripping the handle to open the door for him. his hand makes contact with yours, enveloping it as he does the same.
your eyes meet and it might have been because of the cold night air, but you see the color of bang chan’s cheeks turn into a light shade of red. you try to stop yourself from shivering when he grips your hand tighter to open the car door. your eyes don’t leave him as it opens and he motions for you to enter first.
you hesitate. wasn’t this your job?  
“y/n,” you hear him call, “i insist.”
you sigh, but don’t say anything else when you slip your hand out of his grip, ducking as you get inside the backseat. chan follows soon after, closing the car door and greeting his driver as he relaxes his back on the seat behind him.
chan’s driver turns to him as he asks, “where to, sir?”
he answers, “take us home, please.”
and with that, chan presses the button to slide the partition close.
the words that left his mouth almost give you whiplash. it was such a simple sentence, but somehow, your brain couldn’t comprehend it. you open your mouth as you turn to give chan a look. he reciprocates as he cocks his head to the side, chest glistening underneath the streetlights. 
“i apologize if that was a bit forward, but is it okay if i bring you to my place?” your boss hums, putting his arm on the curve of the backseat. “i figured we could work there instead of the office.”
you let his words settle into you the same way you lean back on the seat. your mind travels back to the calendar you prepared and submitted to him last sunday—a couple of meetings on monday and tuesday, a press conference on wednesday, and a celebratory party on thursday. and since everyone’s too hungover to function the next day, friday’s scheduled to be a lighter one, as requested by chan himself. you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at the ceiling to wonder, did you somehow forget the details you put on the schedule?
and not just details, but work? didn’t you and chan rush two days worth of tasks the previous nights so that the both of you can, as you quote him, “enjoy the party”? but, here you were, on the way to his house to work. again.
chan catches the look in your eyes. “it’s nothing heavy. i just need your help.”
“and why wasn’t this plotted in your official schedule?” you question, letting your eyes drift to his, an eyebrow raised.
chan’s eyes widen and he brings his forearm up to scratch the side of his head. “it’’s really not that important to warrant a spot in my calendar.”
“but, important enough for you to ask for my help?”
the color on chan’s cheeks disappear and his smile drops the way his arm does to his side.  he scoffs softly. “if it’s work related, of course.” he shakes his head. “you’re my secretary. a part of your job is to heed every call.”
“is this what i have to do since you opened the door for me earlier?”
“‘this’ being?”
“staying up all night with you again. working.”
chan rests his elbow on the window beside him. “that’s never been a problem for you, y/n,” he pauses. “why is it a problem now?”
you weren’t one to complain, but was it such a bad thing to long for a break? sure, the party takes place inside the company’s hall, but you didn’t have to be hunched over a desk, reading through paperwork to summarize and report or make him coffee to keep him awake. you weren’t required to do things for him—to work— because the both of you were there to have fun, mingle, and socialize with all of the other hot shots in the industry.
you were hoping, even just for one night, that you’d escape work responsibilities, that chan would have something fun planned for tonight.
but, maybe you expected for too much from bang christopher chan.
his dry laugh interrupts your thoughts. “unless you’d rather be with hwang hyunjin on that dance floor?”
“hwang hyun— are you kidding me?” you exclaim, eyes wide, as you turn to him. “you’re picking a fight because of hwang hyunjin? i can’t believe this.”
you huff as you cross your arms in front of your chest, looking away from chan to gaze out the window. the previous topic of the calendar is thrown out and it joins the blur of the buildings moving past the car. never in your life have you despised a three-letter word until now, when memories of tonight are slowly overpowered by the word tie. 
you hear chan take a deep breath and you couldn’t help but wonder if the man is actually jealous. if so, you’d prefer he tell you, rather than going back and forth. but then again, you were perfectly fine sitting like this with him—silent and unmoving. it stays like this for a few good minutes, until, in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s knee start bouncing. if it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t—
“i don’t see the big deal,” you sigh exasperatedly. “it’s just a damn tie.” before your hands even fall to your lap, chan’s eyes are on you like they never left.
he turns his body to you, motioning with his hands as he frowns. “it’s not just a tie to me. do you know how close th—“
“so, you are jealous?” you ask, putting a hand on your forehead as your skin heats up. “you’re jealous because i fixed another man’s tie?”
he furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head, as he grips the curve of the backseat. “i—“
“chan, you’re not even wearing a tie tonight! what am i supposed to fix—oh my god!“
the air in the car grows heavy as you try and catch your breath. chan slowly lowers his head to gaze upon his exposed chest. the tips of his ears turn red and it quickly travels down to his cheeks and neck. he swallows as he rubs his nape, a sheepish grin replacing the frown he had on earlier.
it was moments like this that make you wonder if chan’s really the smartest man you know.
“i guess you’re right,” chan whispers. “i’m sorry.”
“you should be,” you say in disbelief. “god, chan, it’s not like i wanted to do it!” he raises his eyebrows, letting out a soft hum, as he nods at your words. you crinkle your nose as you continue. “it was an honest mistake that i”— you point to yourself—“wholeheartedly regret doing and before yo—“
“i just don’t like other men looking at you the same way i do,” chan cuts you off, volume higher than usual. “okay? that’s it.” your boss slices the air to, quite literally, cut the tension. “end of argument.”
absolutely not. not after what he just said.
chan shrugs as he turns away from you to rest his elbow on the window once more. your heart pounds in your chest as his words float around in your mind, attacking every single thought that had made its presence known. your mind becomes an empty void and when you come to your senses—one of them—your skin forms goosebumps.
and it’s not because of the ac in the car.
“help me understand what’s happening right now, chan.”
“y/n,” chan groans softly. “if only you saw the way hyunjin looked at you. his eye—“
“i tripped in front of him!”
“and that’s the charm of it all,” chan states as he turns to look at you. your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. you blink at him and he sighs.
“you’re different from all of the other women in there. you’re a breath of fresh air.”
your shoulders relax, but your hands begin to sweat. your anger and frustration have now been replaced by confusion and the butterflies in your stomach, which have been reserved for the man in front of you, start flapping their wings as your cheeks heat up. you’re about to ask what he meant, but chan parts his lips and it shuts you up quickly.
“it’s hard to let our guards down. the industry’s full of competition, full of rivalry, so you have to have thick skin,” chan pauses to shrug. “the businessmen in that party don’t care about my success, nor do the media. they only care about what’s next for us, what’s next for the company, all that good stuff.” chan sighs, “you know what i mean.”
“because of that,” he clicks his tongue, “i can’t have friends, nor can i have relationships because i’m never sure why they’re with me.” chan laughs bitterly and you feel a bit of resentment seeping out as he continues. “is it about the money? the fame? corporate espionage? fuck if i know,” chan looks back out of the window. on his thigh, you see his fist clench.
it was at this moment that you knew that this was not bang christopher chan, but this was only chan beside you, the complex, but relaxed and soft-spoken man you were privileged enough to know and spend time with during late nights in the office. a side of him no one else saw, but for some reason, he was willing to share as you sat beside him on his office couch.
the silence that comes after is louder than anything you’ve heard at the party earlier. you decide to take the leap, reach out, and hold his hand.
“y/n,” he breathes out, stopping your hand. “you’re different, okay? you’re different because you’ve never made me feel that way.” chan runs a hand through his hair. “the men and women in the office tiptoe around me, like there’s eggshells or something,” chan hangs his head down as he taps his fingertips on his thigh. “but you, you barely ever do.”
your breath catches in your throat and you whimper, “chan—“
“i’m not finished,” chan jokes shakily, turning his body to you this time. “you’re not afraid to make mistakes when you’re around me, laugh at my jokes, or sometimes, you just sit there and listen to me ramble.” chan smiles to himself. “you tell me what’s on your mind, your opinions, your views and most of the time, that’s the highlight of my day, not”— he motions with his hands—“the sale i’ll be making in the afternoon or the press conference we’ve got planned.”
us, we. always the duo, you and chan were. but why does tonight feel different and why is the sparkle in his eyes more prominent than before? “hell,” chan rolls his eyes playfully, “you even answer back to me. not a lot of people get that privilege.” even if your eyebrows are furrowed, your lips part to let out a soft giggle.
“and it does infuriate me,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “but i’ll let you do it.” chan lets his eyes meet yours and you freeze.
“over and over again.”
you feel as if a strong wind blows in the car, knocking you back into the seat. you grip the side of your dress to keep your hand from shaking. chan’s stare burns your skin and you try your best not to melt into the car itself. he inhales, “whenever you talk back, it makes me feel human. it reminds me that”—he puts a hand over his chest—“i’m not perfect, that i make mistakes, and that i should let my pride down sometimes.”
“sometimes?” you interrupt. chan’s ears perk up when he hears you and he lets his shoulders relax, his eyes growing soft and a grin forming on his lips. 
“yes, sometimes,” chan snickers. “but, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he sighs, “you make me feel human, not a business drone or ‘the most successful CEO of the year’.”
before you could respond or even make sense of the point, chan quickly adds, “and you probably made hyunjin feel the same way when you tripped. i remember you told me that he bursted out laughing as soon as you left his office.”
“yeah,” you deadpan. “thanks for that memory.” beside you, chan chuckles and the car slows down when the light turns red.
and with a small smile on his lips, your boss at the other end of the seat looks back out of the window. in the corner of your eye, you see chan’s hand on the middle of the seat. you’re almost tempted to take it into yours as your mind travels to the words he uttered only moments ago.
there’s a reason why he’s awarded as the country’s most successful CEO. chan, as lovingly labelled by the media, is the industry’s Wolf, a title that was given to him during his second year in the position. and though many have come close, like the blonde-haired man in the party earlier, chan has never been overthrown by any other. sharp and smart, bang chan has done more than his father ever could, bringing the company to the international stock market and to other heights that only the other CEOs could dream of.
but, all these achievements came at a price. it’s lonely at the top, as they’ve said, and with bang chan, you saw that very statement come to life. chan, because of his reputation and riches, has closed himself up to make sure his mind and his company stays ahead and clear. that, of course, meant that he had to solve his personal problems on his own.
because who would the man on top run to when there’s no one else with him?
however, with his words, you realize that, maybe, you were that person for him. the person he can laugh and joke around with. the person he can talk to freely, ramble to, and spend time with. the person that allows him to be himself, no judgements, no pressure.
though, you’ve always felt some sort of tension between the two of you, it was enough to know that chan saw you more than just his secretary. you’d rather have him that way, than nothing at all. you turn to him.
you’re about to thank him, but chan’s voice rings out in the car as the light outside turns green. “and apart from all of that, you’re gorgeous too.”
“excuse me?” you choke out, eyes widening. chan turns to you, an eyebrow raised as he exhales through his nose. a soft ‘what?’ leaves his lips. “did i have too much to drink tonight?” chan merely chuckles at the question.
“you didn’t have any,” he responds. you shake your head as you shift uncomfortably in your seat.
it couldn’t be possible. was this a dream? first, chan became slightly possessive and now he’s calling you gorgeous like it won’t affect you, like you’ll believe him. the world must be punishing you right now, but if you close your eyes, maybe you’ll wake up in your apartment like it’s groundhog day. as you try and shut the world off, chan calls out your name and it brings you back to the car.
“do you want me to repea—“
“no!” you exclaim, leaning over to grab chan’s forearm.
chan glances at your hand, then at your lips. it’s through this subtle action that you realize how close the two of you are. he blinks at you while his cheeks become coated with a nice shade of red, but he doesn’t pull his arm away. “well, you heard me,” he utters. “i apologize if i don’t say it enough or don’t say it at all.”
you’re about to lose your mind.
“but, um,” chan uses his free hand to scratch the back of his neck, “you really are beautiful. hwang hyunjin knows it, changbin knows it, the staff in the office know it, and i know it.” chan pauses as his eyes scan your face for any reaction, to which you respond only with your mouth slightly opening.  
he huffs as he furrows his eyebrows, “i know it because i get to be with you everyday and i’d be stupid to deny it to myself any further.”
“and yes, it does bother me when men stare at you,” chan continues. your chest tightens and you couldn’t breathe, but it’s somehow the good kind, the kind that you don’t want to end, the kind that you could get used to.
“they see how much of a great woman you are, in the office and out of it. i’m glad they do, but at the same time,” chan pauses to remove his forearm from your grip. he wraps both of his hands around your wrists.
“you and i have been together for so long that i can’t see myself working with anybody new.” you blink. “what if they take you away? what if they offer you a higher salary or promise you more opportunities? or what if the—“
“chan,” you whisper, “just tell me what you want to say.” the man in front of you lets out a shaky breath and when he opens his mouth once more, a mess of incoherent words come out.
“just give it to me straight.” you plead. both of your eyes lock as his breath intertwines with yours.
you’ve only really lit one firework in your whole life.
how it goes is you strike a match to ignite a spark and while it travels down the incredibly long wick, it gives you ample time to run away and cower. the experience of running and waiting was thrilling, but what came after was underwhelming—the spark did not carry over to its destination.
but as chan presses his lips on yours, his hands tightening around your wrists to pull you in closer, you’re finally able to see the spark reach its destination after the 8 years of long, agonizing wait. the firework fires up into the sky, the black canvas being painted by a million different colors all at once. chan removes his hands around your wrists to cup your face.
now, you can say that you’ve lit two fireworks in your life.
compared to the absolute chaos happening inside of your body, the kiss is slow and gentle with chan’s lips, soft and plump, perfectly fitting into yours like a puzzle piece you never knew was missing. you tangle your hands into his hair to push him into you deeper and chan lets you, tilting his head to the side.
chan’s hand is the match that ignites another spark in your chest as it travels down to the side of your neck. your heart pounds louder when his hand settles on your skin, the heat from his fingertips combining with the heat that has formed on your neck.
you find yourself leaning back to the corner of your seat and before you could process it, chan’s on top of you. your skin forms goosebumps when his hand moves down to your waist. when you arch your back and push your torso onto his, you rip a soft groan from the back of his throat.
chan pushes himself off of you, his pupils dilated and his breath not being remotely enough for him.
“what was that for?” you whisper, your chest heaving. outside, you see his mansion come into view.
“you said to give it to you straight.”
but, fuck, you wanted more. you wanted curves, zigzags, waves, all of it. as long as chan’s lips are on yours again, you wanted it all.
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truth be told, you’ve never set foot in chan’s house. you’ve only seen the mansion through the car window, but you knew, one way or the other, you’ll be able to see what lies inside. of course, you were his secretary. heed every call, right?
you just didn’t envision that it’d be in this way.
you don’t finish your sentence as you’re gently pushed back onto the front door once it closes. chan’s on you like the way he was in the car, but this time, he’s closer, the distance almost non-existent as he puts his hands on your waist. goosebumps arise from your skin as his lips find their way to your neck. you’ve always thought you were stronger than this, but you’re already gasping for air when he starts peppering kisses down your skin.
“chan,” you breathe. he comes up from the side of your neck with his eyebrow raised and a small grin on his lips. “i thought we had work to do.”
chan hums nonchalantly in response and he merely dives back in your neck, closing the space between the two of you like you weren’t close enough. you find yourself tilting your head to give him more access and chan, being the smart man he is, notices this immediately. he grunts softly and you shiver, his lips latching onto the sides he hasn’t taken in.
you bite your lip, but as much as you were enjoying the attention, especially after 8 years of longing, you and chan had to work. knowing him, he’d value work over this in a heartbeat. you try and push him off of you, but he only tightens his grip.
“chan,” you whine, “this can wai—“
“no,” he mutters as he pulls you into his torso, “it can’t.” he hovers his lips on yours, his hot breath hitting your skin. “i don’t want to wait anymore.” you gasp when he squeezes your waist.
“i can’t. not anymore.”
though chan’s tone is stern, there’s longing in his voice like he’s a man who’s been denied of life’s pleasures for years and frankly, you feel the same way. he didn’t have to say anything else before you’re clashing your lips into his, your hands travelling to his hair and tugging on it. chan presses his body onto yours and you’re pushed back on the door again. you whimper.
chan’s clothed torso is hot against yours and its heat travels down in between your thighs. your wetness pools in your panties and before you knew it, he’s unwrapping his arm from your waist to lift you up. your legs wrap around his torso in an instant, like the both of you have done this before. he grins into the kiss, his hands finding their way to the curve of your ass as he starts walking to his bedroom.
even with his eyes closed and his neck craned up to keep his lips on yours, chan wades smoothly through his furniture and the both of you make it up the stairs with no problem. you should have been more concerned, but knowing bang chan, he’s got you. always have and always will, that much you know. he does, however, accidentally slam you onto his bedroom door. you wince.
“sorry,” chan mumbles. “won’t happen again.”
“excited?” you tease softly. chan chuckles against your lips as he reaches out to grab the door handle.
“very.” you feel a gush of wind hit your back as the door opens. his lips are on yours again as the both of you make your way in.
he lies you down on the bed, your hair splaying all over your shoulders and on the sheets behind you. when chan pulls away, he latches himself onto the skin behind your ear and you sigh as you put your hand on the back of his head. you arch your back into him when you feel his member hardening from below you and all he could do is chuckle, though a bit shaky.
chan runs a hand down to your waist as you spread your legs open to accommodate him. “you’re already so beautiful,” he breathes on your skin, “and you aren’t even naked yet.”
your breath catches in your throat, whimpering in response. it was overwhelming enough to learn that chan finds you beautiful, but to think that he’s thought of you unclothed? you could die happy now, as cheesy as that sounds. he comes up from your neck to press a soft kiss on your jaw. his free hand trails up the side of your body, fingers playing with the zipper located on the side of the dress.
“may i?”
the question rings out in the room and it echoes in the confines of your mind. such a simple, harmless question, but you feel blood rush to every part of your body. your legs close around his torso, your clit starting to throb at the prospect of being undressed by the man you’ve been hopelessly in love with. you nod and chan whispers a soft ‘thank you’ as he starts unzipping your dress.
as you feel your dress start unravelling with his touch, you inhale, taking in chan’s scent. it’s a combination of mint and lemon and it’s something you’ve gotten used to after years of working with him. it’s never been anything but cologne to you, but tonight it’s ambrosial and intoxicating. you let yourself drown in it, closing your eyes as chan’s lips continue to do their wonders on your neck.
the cold air hits your skin once chan fully unzips your dress and it brings you back to his bed, in his presence, in his hold. you whimper softly in his ear. he squeezes your waist, grunting as he presses a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“i can’t believe we waited this long,” chan whispers. you giggle before slowly slipping your arms out of your now loose dress straps. you don’t break the eye contact as you tug your dress down to your chest. the dip in between your tits catches chan’s attention and he breaks the stare to shamelessly trail his eyes down.
chan licks his bottom lip before he looks back up at you.
“we don’t have to wait anymore,” you reassure, reaching a hand up to swipe your thumb over his lip, glistening and swollen.
at your words, chan’s eyes dilate and darken. the color of his cheeks turn into a shade of red and as you’re about to tease, chan tugs your dress down your chest, exposing your breasts in all of its entirety. heat travels all over your body and your nipples harden under his touch. chan dips down to your chest like the bead of sweat trickling down your back and you can only moan when his lips start sucking the skin in between your breasts.
you whimper when he cups one of your tits, kneading it softly as he continues to suck on the skin. your hand finds its way to chan’s shoulder and you grip it as he pulls away with a soft pop. chan gazes up at you before smirking, your words failing you once again when he attaches his lips beside your nipple, nipping on the skin to leave another mark.
you moan his name as your hand latches onto the back of his head, pulling him into your skin even more. his teeth graze you and you arch your back into him, only to be pushed down by his hand on your waist. he doesn’t say anything once he pulls away, only going back in to leave more marks on your chest.
as if the marks weren’t proof of who you belonged to, chan utters, “mine.” you squeeze his shoulder tighter. “all mine.”
maybe, this is why chan’s called “the Wolf”.
your mouth falls open, his name falling off of it as his lips wrap around your nipple. the hand on your waist moves back up to cup your other breast. one of chan’s fingers plays with your other nipple and your hips lifts up to meet him, your heat making contact with his member. chan groans onto your skin, the vibrations travelling back down to where you ached for him.
“you say my name so prettily, babe.” the nickname shoots you straight in the chest and your heart aches. never in a million years did you think that chan would be on you the way he was now. the thought makes you whine softly. you feel chan’s hand move away from your breast. it follows the curve of your body and it slips in between your thighs, making you spread your legs even further apart. chan chuckles breathlessly.
you shiver when he presses his fingers in the front of your panties and you bite your lip when he starts rubbing, his tongue on your nipple following the motion of his fingers below you. as most new lovers, however, chan’s missing where you needed him most and you move your hips to help him find it. chan’s off of your nipple the moment you call out above him, chest slightly heaving as he looks up at you.
“can you move—“ you pant, “to the left?”
it takes a second for him to realize, the movement of his fingers slowing to a halt as he tilts his head. he blushes softly when he does and he chuckles. “i... just—“ he complies with your needs, but he’s still not—
“oh fuck. yeah,” you cry out when he finally finds your nub. “right there, chan. right there.”
“yeah baby,” he grunts, a smirk taking over his lips after. “i feel you.”
it’s amazing how chan’s making you see stars when he’s only rubbing you through your panties. chan notices this too, pecking one of the marks he left on your chest as he hums, moving down in between your legs. he inhales softly, fingers still making circles on your clit.
“god,” he groans. “you smell so sweet.” your wetness gushes out of you and you grip the sheets beside you, biting your lip as you feel his hot breath caress your folds. chan raises his eyes and he licks his lip when your eyes lock.
“i want to taste you.”
so simple, so straightforward, yet so obscene coming from the mouth of an executive. chan grins when you breathe a ‘yes’, your back arching when he hooks a finger on the waist band of your panties, teasingly taking his time as he pulls it down your thighs. you buck your hips up and chan snickers, “okay, okay. i got it.”
he puts your panties aside before he comes back up to your torso. his clothed member is dangerously close to yours and you’re almost tempted to grind yourself onto him. “let’s get this off,” chan mumbles as he tugs on your dress. “now.”
it may be the secretary in you or it may just be the lust that’s driving you at this point, but you’re scrambling to help chan get rid of the dress that’s clinging to your body. you shiver when it’s removed fully, the dress hitting the floor with a soft thud. chan looks down at you and he lets out a long breath like he’s been holding one in. you blush and instinctively, your hands try to cover your body. he frowns as he leans back down to grab a hold of your hands.
“no,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss on your lips. “your body’s beautiful. you’re beautiful. don’t hide from me.”
chan lets go of your hands and you let them fall down to your sides. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to see you like this?” he mutters as he kisses down your torso. goosebumps form on your skin. “especially when you wear those skirts.”
your heart pounds in your chest when he settles in between your thighs, kissing them before he dips down to press a kiss on your clit. your hand goes to his hair, your core clenching at the feeling of being empty.
“oh, that’s so cliché,” chan interjects, a playful smile on his lips as he raises his head.  the atmosphere in the room changes and you find yourself opening your eyes as you prop yourself up with your elbows. you raise an eyebrow as heat travels to your cheeks.
“if i got off to that nickname, i would have had a hard-on every time you called me sir.”
you roll your eyes with a huff as you lie back down on the bed. “just get on with it.”
“wow,” he laughs softly, “my secretary’s ordering me around now?”
truthfully, you loved banter with chan, but not tonight. not when he’s there, in between your thighs, purposefully ignoring the sex that’s staring him straight in the eyes. always the tease, bang chan was. you’re just not having it tonight.
“i’m not your secretary right now.”
you hear chan inhale sharply and within a second, he’s on your core like a fiend craving a shot of his drug. your hand’s on his hair again, tugging on it as you moan incoherently. he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, the lewd sounds of his tongue lapping your wetness ringing out in the room after. your hip bucks up when he starts sucking on your clit and he puts your leg over his shoulder in the process to give him more access to your folds.
“you’re so delicious,” chan groans. “better than anything i’ve ever tasted.” you moan out brokenly, pulling him back into your clit like your life depended on it. he chuckles against it and the vibrations allow an explosion of a million fireworks inside of you. your mouth falls open the way your legs do, your moans filling the room with the sound of chan’s full lips on your pussy.
chan smirks below you, obviously pleased by the way your body is reacting to him. it’s embarrassing, but that’s what he gets for taking his precious time with you. you know he won’t let this go any time soon, but you couldn’t care less. he pecks your clit before pulling away. your clit throbs at the loss of the friction, but chan makes up for it when he plunges two of his fingers inside of you.
the intrusion is sudden, but welcome, as your back flies off of the bed with a loud cry, sitting up as you grip his shoulder. chan mewls softly as he plants a hand outside of your thigh to support himself as he leans up to crash his lips into yours. you taste your juices on him when he swipes his tongue on your bottom lip and your wetness seeps out, dripping onto the sheets below you. his fingers continue their assault on your pussy, alternatively thrusting and rubbing your walls.
chan pulls away from the kiss and a string of your combined spit attaches itself on his bottom lip. he breaks the string by licking his bottom lip and you find it unfair how chan’s lips just continue to look immaculate despite how swollen and red it is. he simpers as he rests his forehead on yours, sweat starting to form on its sides.
“do you hear yourself, baby?” he purrs. “do you hear how wet you are for me?” for him, for him, for him. all for chan, all for the man you’ve loved for years now. your hand wraps around his nape, pulling chan into your shoulder as he continues to thrust into your heat. he groans as he bites down on the skin, the sound of your slick overpowering anything else in the bedroom. you feel the familiar coil starting to form in your lower regions.
your cunt clenches around his fingers when he curls them and your hips start to gyrate. “y/n,” chan moans, “you’re getting so tight.” you whimper his name as your wetness coats his fingers even more, the sound and the smell of your sex getting more and more prominent as the coil in your stomach threatens to unravel for chan.
“cum for me, baby,” he growls. “cum.”
chan wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you into him as ecstasy takes over the entirety of your body. you shake and tremble in his hold as he whispers sweet nothings and praises in your ear. his fingers slow to help you ride out your orgasm and he hums as your legs continue to shiver at his sides. he thrusts his fingers in once, twice, before he pulls them out, pulling away from the embrace to lick his fingers clean. he groans in delight.
you’re panting as you push chan onto the bed, getting on top of him before pressing your swollen lips onto his. naturally, his hands fall onto your hips as your lips move in sync. you run your hand down his clothed chest, the satin feeling supple against your fingertips. your desire, fuelled by the adrenaline surging through your veins, makes you whimper as you pop open the remaining buttons of chan’s polo.
every pop is significant to the way the both of you are letting yourselves go, baring your bodies and souls to each other after years of not being able to, after years of merely hoping. your heart pounds as you rip open chan’s polo, sighing as his torso shines underneath the light streaming inside the bedroom. chan pulls you back into his lips with a gentle hand on the back of your neck.
chan’s lips are soft on yours and you let yourself get carried away as you cup his face. chan hums as he sits up to remove his polo, lips not moving away from yours. he throbs in between your thighs and you gasp. chan takes this opportunity to slip his tongue to connect with yours and the both of you create a new language in the process.
“you’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whines as the both of you pull away. “you’ve always been so beautiful.”
you blush, your hand caressing his cheek gently as you utter a soft ‘thank you’. you share one more quick kiss before your hand moves down his torso to start unbuckling his pants. “let me return the favor.”
“no,” chan answers, reaching down to hold your wrist. “you don’t need to.”
he tightens his hold on your wrist as he pleads softly, “please. you always take care of me, y/n.” he leans up to mutter on your lips, “let me do that for you tonight.”
you weren’t strong enough to refuse the offer and you let chan raise you up from his lap, only to be lied down on the bed once more. you relax into the mattress as chan positions himself in between your legs. as he unbuckles his belt, your mind travels to the moment in the car and you can’t help but wonder—
“you meant what you said earlier, right?”
chan’s eyes are on you immediately as he hears your voice, his hands stopping. “of course, i did.”
“you didn’t just say that to get in my pants?”
chan bites his lip to suppress a laugh and he shakes his head as his hands resume their task earlier. “no,” he giggles. “if that was my plan the whole time, i would have just said ‘hey, i’m bang chan’ and your pants would have slid right off.”
you throw your head back onto the pillows as you laugh softly. “that didn’t happen when you interviewed me.”
“yeah, well,” chan mumbles, sliding out of his pants, “it’s happening now.”
“8 years after, but okay.”
“it’s still happening, so my point still stands,” chan shrugs, chuckling when he sees you cross your arms in front of your chest. “i’m sorry,” he laughs as he leans down to kiss you. “i’m kidding.”
“you’re so full of yourself, babe,” you tease.
your smile disappears when chan’s cock springs out of his boxers, thick and hard, with the tip red and glistening as pre-cum leaks out of it. the base is adorned with his veins, prominent enough to show up in the darkness. his cock twitches and your mouth opens, salivating at the sight of him. 
when you look back up, you let your eyes take in chan and you marvel at him, basking in the presence of a man whose body looks like it has been sculpted by the Gods up above. shoulders broad, muscles defined, your core throbs and tightens at the promise of getting to have him tonight.
it was here that you understood that you didn’t need to be swept off of your feet or be brought to anywhere else fancy when bang chan, in all of his glory, is no place you’ve ever been to. you’re more than willing to get to know him tonight and let him take you where he pleased.
“you’re about to be full of me in a second,” he jokes, smirking. his cheeks turn pink and you try your best to ignore the fondness brewing in your stomach. despite putting on his confident facade, you know chan is as nervous as you are. “lie back.”
you rest your back on the sheets below you, your legs opening to welcome chan in between them for the second time tonight. the feeling of his hands on the side of your body awakens something feral in you and before you can process the reaction, you buck your hips up onto him, your wet core brushing his hard cock. he groans as he pulls away, spitting on his palm before smearing it all over his member. you lick your lip before reaching up to hold his nape once more.
“ready?” he asks as he pumps himself, lining himself up in front of your core.
you feel as if you’re walking a tightrope when he asks you the question. one misstep and you’re falling into everything that encapsulated him, into everything that was bang chan. were you ready to let go and let him overwhelm you? after 8 long years, you finally let your foot slip and the next thing you know, you’re looking back up at chan, hand squeezing his shoulder as you say,
“ready as i’ll ever be, baby.”
it’s as if the gates of heaven opened when chan pushes himself in you, the both of your moans creating a melodic symphony that echoes in the bedroom. his girth parts your walls and the feeling burns ever so slightly. you whimper as you bite your lip, throwing your head back onto the pillows. a comforting hand rests on your waist as he stops at his thickest.
“you’re so big,” you choke out. he hums as he leans down to bury his face in your neck to smile against it. chan presses a soft kiss on your skin as he bottoms out, groaning softly when your cunt clenches around him. you put a hand on his back, pressing his skin as he pulls out fully. he pushes back in roughly, the sound of his balls hitting your skin echoing in the whole room. you claw at his back as you arch yours, gasping, and he grunts softly.
chan starts thrusting, his skin grinding against your swollen nub. “your pussy’s so tight, babe,” he moans. you sigh in response as your legs wrap around his torso, pushing him in you even deeper. you needed him, you wanted him, and you’re here to make sure you get to experience bang chan in ways you’ve never experienced him. it doesn’t matter how many he’s had before you. what matters is that he’s in you now, thrusting his cock and taking you to heaven.
“you’re so good,” you praise, voice cracking as a whine comes out. “you’re so good to me.”
“yeah?” chan breathes, a smug smile forming on his lips. his chest heaves as he continues to ram into you. his skin is hot against yours and you drown in the feeling and in his scent. “you’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you whine in response. “such a dirty mind for a refined secretary. ”
chan bites down on your shoulder before slowing his thrusts, raising his head from your neck. “turn around.”
it doesn’t register quickly, but once it does, you’re off of his cock to get on fours, planting your hands on the soft mattress and arching your back to expose yourself to chan. he groans behind you, hovering over you as he puts a hand on the headboard in front of you.
“tell me what you want,” chan whispers, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.
“baby, please,” you cry. “you know.”
chan snickers, pushing only the tip of his cock in. “i need to hear you say it.”
“tell me, baby. tell me what you want.”
“your cock, chan. please, i want it. i need it. i want to feel you inside me, please. pl—“
chan squeezes your hips before pounding his cock inside of you. you cry out his name, throwing your head back as your eyes close. you get lost in chan’s grunts, letting them wrap themselves around your body the way chan’s arm snakes around your waist. he pulls your body back into him, your back flushing against his chest. the sounds of your slick coating chan’s cock as he continues to ram into you rings in your ears and you feel your clit ache below you.
“god, baby,” chan grunts. “it’s like my cock’s made for you.”
you whine at his words, your hand making its way down to rub circles on your clit. chan growls softly, removing his hand from the headboard to hold your wrist.
“let me,” he mutters. “let me take you there.”
you weren’t about to say no.
the promise of an orgasm looms on you as chan draws rough circles on your clit. his thrusts start to syncopate from his rhythm and he pushes you back down on the bed gently. you bury your face on his soft sheets and you turn your head to the side as you moan and whine an incoherent mess of praises and curses. you grip the sheets as you spread your legs apart and your thighs start to shake as chan presses his fingers down on your clit.
“baby,” you rasp, tears forming in the corner of your eyes, “i can’t—“ 
chan grunts, “you want to cum for me again?”
“yes, please, please, pl—“
“gush on my cock, baby. let me feel you.”
it’s pure ecstasy when you do, letting yourself go in the pleasure of everything that was bang chan—his moans, grunts, breathing, cock, everything. you cry out into his sheets and grip them until your knuckles turn white. your legs try to close as your whole body shakes and just like the first time, chan takes you to a place you’ve never been, your vision turning blurry as he continues to pound you. your toes curl as you moan his name,  like it’s the only word in your vocabulary. behind you, chan whines softly.
“where do you want me to cum?”
you don’t respond immediately, body shaking in the aftermath of your orgasm. “inside,” you pant. “give it to me.”
chan cries, “jesus, fuck.” he loses his rhythm completely as he leans over you, his sweat falling on your back. “shit, y/n, baby, i— ”
he thrusts a few more times before he grabs your hips, pulling you into him with a groan as he spills his cum, hot and sticky, inside of you. your pussy clamps down on his cock as he grinds inside you to ride his high out, his hand finding its way to the dip of your back. he pulls out after a short while and you whine at the emptiness that comes with it. you do, however, feel both of your juices seep out of you, dripping down on his bed sheets.
“what a sight,” chan mutters behind you as you let your body fall on the bed. you giggle softly as you close your legs, the high wearing down as your body starts to feel heavy. you have a feeling you’d be sore tomorrow, but the both of you weren’t expecting many to come into work, anyway. so, you’ll end up getting away with it. for now. the bed dips beside you and chan pulls you into him, your back against his chest.
for a moment, you listen to his breathing and focus on the way his fingers lied on your stomach. your eyes start to grow heavy, but you hear chan whisper, “are you okay?”
“i am,” you respond softly, turning around to face him. once your eyes meet, chan smiles as he tucks a hair strand on the back of your ear. his hair is disheveled and wet with sweat, but still, chan looked as well put together as he always does. you lean up to kiss him, your lips moving slowly on each other. when you pull away, chan’s eyes are twinkling and he lets out a soft hum of satisfaction.
“so,” you mumble, playfully tapping his bottom lip, “are we still going to work tonight?”
chan groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle. “it can wait.”
“no. it can’t,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. chan’s arms around your waist tighten as he pulls you closer.
“don’t use my words against me,” chan grins. he places his hand on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. your eyes grow heavy and the next thing you know, you’re wavering in between falling asleep and staying awake.
you do hear chan’s voice in the midst of all of this, a soft and gentle, “hey, i love you.” you feel him kiss your forehead before you blissfully fall into oblivion.
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you wake up when chan’s bedroom door bursts open, the door handle hitting the wall.
you raise your head, squinting as you watch chan come in with a tray of food. the aroma hits your nose immediately and your stomach growls softly. he gives you a quick, apologetic smile as he puts the tray down at the edge of the bed.
“good morning,” he greets, running a hand through his hair. he sits down beside the tray and he grins. your eyes travel down his figure, the black formal polo from last night is on his torso again, paired with the boxers, you could only assume, he was wearing last night.
friday, a new work day for the two of you. “good morning to you too, sir,” you mumble before rubbing your eyes. your chest stings from all of the marks from last night and you wince. chan lets out a soft hum, reaching out to hold your hand in his.
“did you sleep well?”
“yeah. thanks to you,” you tease. chan runs his thumb on your palm, inhaling as he looks up at you, cheeks pink.
a comfortable silence falls in the room as the both of you sit in each other’s company. it was overwhelming enough that you woke up in chan’s bed, but now he’s cooked you breakfast, plated it, and put it on a tray to bring to you. it didn’t even occur to you that he knew how to cook. you smile to yourself as you realize— you didn’t know everything about him yet. you part your lips to speak, but you didn’t notice chan doing the same.
“oh, you go firs—“
“no, you can—“
the two of you huff simultaneously, laughing at each other. “you go first,” you giggle. chan nods, coughing into his fist with a smile.
“about last night,” he starts, “i hope i didn’t hurt you too much.”
you look down at your chest playfully as you shrug. “it’s no big deal,” you hum. “i enjoyed it.” chan chuckles in response. he watches as you reach over to the plate, letting go of his hand as you bring the plate to your lap. “did you enjoy?” you question.
“yeah, of course,” chan responds immediately. “what’s not to enjoy? i mean, you were spectacular.”
“i could say the same to you, mister ‘no, i can’t wait anymore’.” you joke. chan’s cheeks flush as he scratches the back of his head sheepishly. you dig in your breakfast as chan does the same, the both of you eating in silence. you rest your back on the headboard and you watch chan. his hair is made already and he looks like he’s ready to start the work day. you bite your lip as you look down, your body merely being covered by the duvet. suddenly, memories of last night flood your mind and you sigh softly.
chan catches it immediately.
“where does this lead us?” you ask, putting down your utensils. “you know, this—“ you motion between the two of you—“whatever this is.” you didn’t know what answer you’re waiting for, but you hope it’s positive.
chan thinks for a moment and the silence is deafening. he puts his hand on your thigh,   putting down his plate beside him. “we can tell the office that we’re dating or...” he trails off, looking up at the ceiling, “we can keep this between us for now.”
your eyes widen, coughing as you struggle to come up with an answer. you and chan were together now? chan mentioned the word already, right? his eyes grow worried and he comes over to stroke your back. “did i say something wrong?”
“no, god, no, i just didn’t expect—“
“that i liked you back?” chan furrows his eyebrows. “i think last night was proof enough, baby.”
you blush, covering your face in your hands. chan chuckles softly as he leans over to move your hands away. “we can figure it out as we go,” he hums. “you don’t need to give me an answer right now, okay?”
you nod, your mind in shambles. your breath hitches as chan presses a kiss on your wrist. he looks up at you, “once we’re done eating, we can start the day.” you blink at him and he merely laughs.
“are you even ready for today?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, a smile on his lips.
the question hits you in many different ways, your mind travelling back to the last words you heard from him last night. are you ready to finally be with chan after all these years? you scan his face, taking him in as his smile reaches his eyes. chan looked beautiful and you know you wouldn’t be anywhere else, wouldn’t be with anyone else because all you needed is in front of you and he always has been. both of you were just too stupid to admit it to yourselves.
you straighten your back, clear your throat, throw your disheveled hair behind your shoulder, and smile at him.
“ready as i’ll ever be.”
2K notes · View notes
bluejaem · 29 days ago
⌗ their little habits when with you ( ver. dreamies )
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(✿) —; MARK LEE. playing with your ears. he finds your earlobes to be so soft, almost like one of a baby’s, and finds it absolutely adorable. does this especially when he’s babying you or finds something that you did extremely adorable,, to the point that he’s just screaming with all that love sksks; or when you guys are cuddling, he tends to play with your ears— softly rubbing the back of your earlobes while whispering sweet things in your ear.
(✿) —; HUANG RENJUN. tucking your hair behind your ear. i think i’ve mentioned this before as well, but i just can’t get the imagery of this out of my head. i’ve seen how he takes care of the dreamies by sometimes fixing their hair and i honestly think he’d do the same thing with you :(( anytime he notices any stray strands of hair in front of your face, he’d smile to himself, and leaning in closer, he’d tuck your hair behind your ear.
(✿) —; LEE JENO. sliding his hands around your waist. another observation,, i’ve seen how he’s so subtle, like, you don’t even feel his touch. he’s just that smooth with it. when you guys are in a huge crowd or something, and he has this urge to keep you closer to himself. would do this especially in public rather than at home, or when people are around. don’t mind him, he’s just letting everybody know that he’s yours and you’re his.
(✿) —; LEE DONGHYUCK. having a lot of nicknames for you. i feel like i’ve mentioned this before, and this is also another observation lmao,, but i’ve noticed how he’s always so quick and witty with giving people nicknames. loves, and i mean, absolutely loves— the effect ‘my love’ has on you. or when he’s in the mood for teasing you and goes with ‘mrs. lee haechan,’ ‘cause he finds it so adorable when you become all so shy every time he uses these nicknames.
(✿) —; NA JAEMIN. getting lost in your eyes. i see him as the type to adore you from afar. or just— adore you in general. whenever you’re focused on something, he tends to just admire you for a while, silently watching you. or when you’re telling him something, and he’s just lost in your eyes. and without even realising it, there’s a lovesick smile on na jaemin’s face. when you ask him if he’s listening to you, he responds with, ‘has anyone ever told you how dreamy your eyes are?’
(✿) —; ZHONG CHENLE. pulling you closer to himself. doesn’t matter where you guys are, he just wants you to be close to him. even if you guys are in public, or by yourselves, he’d take any excuse to have you by his side. would take you by your hand, or put his arm around your shoulder, and kind of like jeno, might even hold you by your waist. he likes the idea of letting everyone know that you’re taken— and by him.
(✿) —; PARK JISUNG. smiling to himself whenever you’re talking. yes, this is another observation. jisung looks like a very good listener, but when it comes to you— he tends to forget the fact that you’re saying something, and instead, just ends up smiling like a lovestruck teenager. when you ask him if anything’s wrong, he’d wear a sheepish smile on his face, and with flushed cheeks, he’d respond by saying, ‘sorry, could you repeat that. i just like listening to your voice.’
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© BLUEJAEM, 2021
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