jishyucks

[jishyucks]

Pew Pew 💥🔫

[jishyucks]

DAVID CORENSWET as CLARK KENT Superman (2025) dir. James Gunn

[jishyucks]

no cause is it rly tht serious 😭😭

[jishyucks]

𐙚 On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

(a really clingy) Haechan and kimchi jjigae !

Baby, Please Come Home – ldh

‣ pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

‣ genre: fluff !!!, established relationship

‣ wc: 2.0k

‣ summary: They weren’t lying when they said that the holiday season was the busiest time of year. With finals rolling around, gift shopping for your family, and keeping yourself in check, you barely have time to give your boyfriend the attention he wants. Donghyuck, however, has a way to work around this; alternatively, in which Donghyuck just wants one kiss and you think it’ll be funny not to give it to him

‣ warnings: clingy!hyuck (so it’s just hyuck being his normal self) and reader's a menace for not giving him the kisses (he deserves),, I tried to make it tooth-rottingly cute,,, keyword is tried

‣ an: honestly did this for me, I really needed something disgustingly cute with hyuck okay? (im serious, i was giggling writing this),,, this is lowkey so different from everything i’ve written which was why I was excited to write it >ᴗ< pls enjoy!

Series Masterlist

It’s 8 in the morning and you wake up before your alarm.

That alarm was your boyfriend. 

Typically, your beauty sleep would be disrupted by Donghyuck bearing all of his weight on you, smothering you against the mattress. He’d pepper your face with kisses, whispering a short ‘good morning’ in between each of them. Then, he’d press his cheek right up to yours before he sighed at the warmth. 

He’d always be the first one to wake up given that he made the dumb ass mistake of scheduling 8AMs for two semesters straight (only tolerating it because he could end the school day sooner), but the past week was different.

Donghyuck had finished his exams two weeks earlier than you—each one of them being planned back-to-back by the university—while your exams were spread apart, reaching right until the school closed for the holidays. 

Sure, you preferred Donghyuck’s exam schedule, considering you had far more things to check off your list than you could keep track of, but it was just something you had to accept. You were going to be booked and busy for the days leading up to Christmas and you couldn’t do shit about it. 

A guttural groan bubbles out from your chest as you go to roll out of bed, eyes still half-lidded. You’re already mentally preparing yourself for your day, listing and prioritizing everything you had to do and setting small goals you wanted to complete before dinner. 

Yet, before you can leave the warmth of your bed, you find yourself restrained by two arms, tugging you backward and snugly pressed against the owner's body. 

“Don’t go.” 

“Hyuck, I have so much shit to do.” You try to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but when you struggle, you realize that he’s fixed you in his arms by interlocking his fingers. 

He pulls you in closer, “Just for longer, please?” 

You’re positioned so that Donghyuck was able to nestle his head in the crook of your neck, and you wanted nothing else than to just stay here for a little while longer. The room was chilly and the feeling of your boyfriend’s warmth made his touch a lot more alluring than it would usually be at such an ugly hour. 

You shake your head. “Hyuck, you’re acting like we never cuddle.” 

Donghyuck lets out a groan and you feel the vibrations of his throat against your shoulder, “I know, but you’ve been sooo busy lately and I never get to actually cuddle with you.” He presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing it before he buries his head deeper where it had been. 

“Shut up, you big baby,” you snort. You elbow him softly in hopes that he’ll let you go, but he only does the opposite. And he doesn’t respond, simply settling with the wordless act of pulling you in even closer, “I need to go, babe.”

He says nothing and you’re convinced that he’s drifted back to sleep, breath steady and his hot breath brushing against your exposed skin. You take this as your sign to free yourself, nimbly prying his joined fingers open before barely slipping out of his arms. 

“Sunshine~” Donghyuck murmurs into his pillow, his arms going limp. 

“Later. I promise.”

You leave him be to get ready, shaking your head as you laugh at his behaviour. Donghyuck was and is clingy—and not in the irritating, almost toxic way. He was the endearing type of clingy, always finding ways to engage in skinship between the two of you. It's his love language, after all, so you’ve grown to learn to love it. You’re honestly surprised that the man hasn’t gone crazy with how scarce the physical touch has been lately, being that you weren’t home for the majority of the day.

Once you’ve gotten changed, you finish getting ready in the bathroom, not quite caring to put effort into the look for the day because you know you’re going to end up all haggard by the end of it. 

Entering the kitchen, where your school materials were still scattered from the night before, you're met with the sight of Donghyuck sitting in the chair next to what will be your chair. Two mugs, both filled to the brim with hot coffee, were placed in front of the boy, who had his hands distinguishably crossed on his lap and posture being the straightest it's been since birth. 

“I made us coffee.” 

There’s a comically u-shaped grin placed on his lips and you want to laugh out loud. 

“Thanks, Hyuckie.” You pull your chair back and sit in it, crossing your legs (criss-cross applesauce) before you go to turn your laptop on. 

He waits for you to say or do something more, sitting in silence as he takes tiny sips from his coffee. His gaze feels intense as if he's trying to read your thoughts or burn holes through the sides of your face, and he hardly blinks, keeping his eyes focused on you with unwavering intensity.

“Lee Donghyuck quit staring at me.” You don’t lift your attention from your computer, bringing your mug up to your lips. 

“Aren’t you going to give me a ‘thank you’ kiss?” From how he's talking, you just know he’s pouting, but you don’t want to look at him, knowing that one look at your boyfriend would send you down a spiral of distractions—and frankly, you really couldn’t afford any distractions right now. 

“Nope.” 

“Even just one little peck on the cheek?” An ugly sound comes out from underneath you, coming straight from Donghyuck moving his chair along the hardwood floors. “Please?”

“Nope.” Donghyuck angles his head so that he is almost blocking the view of your computer, “Please? Just one on my cheek, or on my forehead—”

“I said later, remember, babe?” Your eyes flicker to meet his own and then you look away, “I promised, too.”

You’re a bit relieved when he says nothing. Instead, he stands up and heads to the living room. Although there was a tiny part of you worried that you might have upset him, you know Donghyuck, and he rarely lets small things bother him. 

If anything, he was likely just scheming up another way to persuade you into giving him a kiss.

Pushing through a few more topics, you almost forget that Donghyuck was still in the apartment with you. That is until he starts whistling aloud as if trying to create the illusion of being occupied.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s making his merry way over to you, concealing something small behind his back. Once he's right behind you, he reveals it, holding it up for both of you to see.

His shuffling pulls you out of your state of focus, “Yes, Hyuck?” 

“Look up.”

You’re not sure what to expect when it comes to Donghyuck, but you look up nonetheless, deciding to take a break and actually follow his wishes. You let your head fall back to look at whatever the hell this boy was up to now. 

“Mistletoe~” Donghyuck sings. He smiles, the chub at the top of his cheeks covering the bottom half of his eyes. 

You glare at him, “Babe, that’s a random leaf.” 

Maybe Donghyuck has gone crazy. 

He pouts, “Can’t you pretend?”

“No,” you attempt to refocus on your work, trying to block out the fact that Donghyuck was waving a leaf in front of your face as if it would genuinely convince you to give him a kiss. 

Honestly, at this point, it would’ve been easier for you to simply give your boyfriend a peck on the lips and have him leave you alone, but you’re honestly not hating the attention he’s giving you. That, and you wanted to see if he’d do anything else to earn your affection. 

You continued on with your day as usual, scanning through familiar topics and thoroughly rereading your weaker ones. Surprisingly, Donghyuck’s chance of receiving a kiss from you relied on the scruffed-up leaf he had probably plucked from one of your house plants, and he hadn’t chosen to switch up his strategy. 

“I thought you liked Christmas and the holiday season and winter,” Donghyuck lists, following you around the apartment. You’ve now checked your study session off of your list and you were preparing to go out for errands and brief Christmas shopping. (Spoiler alert: you weren’t dragging your boyfriend along with you). 

“I do.”

He frowns, “Then why aren’t you upholding the mistletoe rule? We’ve been under it a million times today and I got no kisses from you.” 

“That’s because it’s not mistletoe, Hyuck.” You slip your puffer on before forcefully pushing your feet into your sneakers. Donghyuck follows you to the door, leaf still in hand the same way a kid holds their stuffed animal. “I’ll see you later, okay? If you need anything while I’m out just text me.” 

“No goodbye kiss?” 

“Later.” 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Your phone buzzes while you’re in line for checkout. 

Loml ‹𝟹

just remembered what I needed

Loml ‹𝟹

a kiss from u :(

You (lovingly) roll your eyes and respond. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You were exhausted and starving, the arches of your feet aching from taking you from one place to another. You’d say today was a success, having checked off all of your to-do’s for the day. 

You’re out of breath from lugging the bags down the hall and you’re not sure whether your fingertips felt cold because of Jack Frost or from the weight of the bags cutting circulation. But at this point, after you’ve finally managed to turn the key with your knuckles, it was a reward simply being able to drop the bags by the door. 

“Babe, I’m home!” It’s odd when you’re returned with no greeting at the door, something you’ve grown used to ever since you moved in together. “Babe?” 

You move deeper into your home, the fatigue momentarily forgotten. The absence of the familiar sounds—no running shower, no clicking of Donghyuck's keyboard, no loud singing—piqued your curiosity. 

Your gaze scans the main area of your home. The dining table lights were on, a pot of kimchi jjigae sitting on the stove, the hallway to the bedroom was off, no lights leaking through any door cracks… where the hell was he?

“Hyuck?”

Heading to the living room, you finally catch sight of your boyfriend knocked out on the couch. It's a downright adorable scene—knees pulled up to his chest, hair sticking out in different directions, and his arms dangling off the sofa. You wonder how long he’s been there for. 

When you round the couch to get to him, you almost laugh out loud at the sight of that damn leaf still clutched in his hand. It was sitting in his loosening grip, creased and worn out from the way it's been handled. Donghyuck was committed to getting a kiss from you. And now you almost feel bad that you’ve left him hanging for the whole day. 

You kneel down so that your face is right in front of Donghyuck’s, “Hyuck.” 

He doesn’t stir until sink your index finger into his cheek.

“Sunshine?” He calls, eyes still closed. 

“Did you eat?” 

Donghyuck’s eyes open in the slightest before he shakes his head, “I was waiting for you.” 

Your heart melts. 

You’ll never get used to that.

“Let’s eat, then.” You bring your hand up to brush his hair out of his face before tracing your thumb over his moles, “I’m starving.” 

He shakes his head and whines, “Not before I get my kiss.” 

“My kisses before kimchi jjigae?” You say, feigning shock. You bring a hand up to your chest and let your mouth fall open for effect. 

Donghyuck doesn’t give you a verbal reply. Instead, he looks back at you with the look he knows damn well you couldn’t resist, pout on his lips and everything. 

You sigh, “Just one.”

That was a joke—you weren’t the only one here dying for a kiss (or rather, give kisses). 

Bringing your lips up to his face, you pepper the man’s face in kisses, making sure that there is not one spot that you’ve missed. Donghyuck’s face melts into a soft smile, eyes closing as he lets you move his head around so that you can plant your lips wherever you want.

Before you could pull away, Donghyuck reaches up to cradle your cheek, urging you to come back down to press his lips onto yours. 

“Just one.” Donghyuck echoes before he pushes himself to sit up, hair still a mess. 

“You’re crazy if you think I prefer kimchi jjigae over your kisses.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: hyuck looks like he has the most kissable cheeks ever im sorry,, i just had to put that out there

[jishyucks]

Sion’s adorable I hate it here

[jishyucks]

'FRAKTSIYA' MV TEASER

[jishyucks]

WHEN I'M WITH YOU (2024) / MY FIRST AND LAST (2017)

[jishyucks]

𐙚 On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

Sunghoon and a kiss (on ice!) !

Love On Ice! — psh

‣ pairing: park sunghoon x reader

‣ genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers

‣ wc: 2.7k

‣ summary: After weeks of stalling, you finally let Sunghoon take you skating—and with how close you two are, you hope he mistakes the beating of your heart for the beat of the music.

‣ warnings: reader kinda sucks at skating and it’s embarrassing considering they have a crush on Hoon, more focused on the reader’s thoughts and feelings so we’re oblivious to Sunghoon’s thoughts and feelings

‣ an: honestly had no idea where i was going with this but i think it's pretty cute,, i half-assedly proofread this but I think it's okay! please enjoy!!

Series Masterlist

Fuck, you really don’t want to do this.

Sunghoon leads you into the small arena, an obvious pep in his step. 

Between the both of you, he seemed to be the only excited one—understandable, considering ice skating was his forte, his second home, and his first love. There were many reasons Sunghoon had to anticipate this; just as many as you had to not. 

For several weeks, Sunghoon had been pushing for you to go skating with him because he went swimming once in your favour (as much as he was opposed to it), so he figured it would only be fair for you to go ice skating. 

“At least you won’t be at risk of drowning,” Sunghoon had said, “I just inhaled a gallon of pool water, it can’t be this bad.”

And at that point in time, you agreed, simply because you did see it as a fair deal. 

But as time passed, you realized that you really didn’t want to humiliate yourself in front of Sunghoon, not when you had the fattest crush on the boy. It would be embarrassing to imagine yourself slipping and sliding on the ice like a baby taking its first steps. That would keep you up at night. 

You even used your athlete card to stall, telling your best friend that you didn’t want to hurt yourself in the middle of your extensive training. And, sure, Sunghoon understood completely—he was an athlete after all—though he started getting a sense that you were stalling for no real reason. 

What finally pushed you to go skating was the fact that Sunghoon took it upon himself to buy you brand-new skates, even asking his little sister to break them in for you. That way, even if you refused them, there was no way he could return them. 

“Are you sure we’re even allowed to be in here?” It was late in the evening and long after closing. The ice looked like it was just gone over by the zamboni and you’d feel bad if you and Sunghoon were to ruin it again for the night. 

He’s still leading you around the rink and toward the waiting area for the athletes. Once you both reach it, he plops his gym bag down on one of the benches and gestures for you to follow. 

“I spoke to coach and he allowed me to,” he says, “So we have it all to ourselves.” 

Despite how confidently Sunghoon replied, he was lying through his teeth. He did ask his coach if he could use the rink after hours, but his coach didn’t exactly hear him. So really, you and Sunghoon weren’t allowed to be there, but what was the worst they could do? Kick him off the team? 

Sunghoon sits down and pulls out his skates and you follow. You watch and mirror everything he’s doing. He slips his sneakers off before he loosens the laces of his skates, then beginning with his right foot, he slides the skate on. 

Sunghoon’s fingers begin to pull at the laces, starting from the front of the shoe. You watch as he tightens them, looping the white string around his fingers and then pulling outwards. He works his way up, finishing it with a simple double knot before he pulls his training pants over top of his skate. 

What the fuck? 

You’re left wondering how the hell Sunghoon had done that so quickly, but then you recall that he’s probably been doing that for years. You take in a deep breath before bending over to try and do what he’s just done, fingers failing to find enough strength to tighten the skate as much as you wanted it to. 

You let out a huff before you try pulling on the laces again, only to be met with the same results. 

“Here, let me help.” 

Unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon had been watching you attempt and fail, secretly finding your effort cute before he did offer assistance.

Sunghoon kneels down in front of you, taking the laces between his fingers before he starts lacing them up. “Just let me know if they’re too tight,” he says, working his way up the skate, “They need to be snug.” 

You nod even though you know Sunghoon can’t see you, keeping your legs steady. Sunghoon finishes before you know it, patting each of your feet before pushing himself up from the ground, “Those feel good?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” you say. The skates feel foreign on your feet, but they’re comfortable—like two tight hugs around your ankles—now it was all about how you would be managing to balance when you stood up. 

With one shaky breath, you scoot forward on the bench and lift yourself off. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult to stand on skates. Sure, you needed to be a bit more conscious of your balance, but it wasn’t as tough as you thought it would be. Sunghoon leads you to one of the openings, yanking the door open. He steps out onto the ice in excitement, doing a quick lap in the time that it took you to waddle over to the gate. When he notices that you’re waiting at the entrance, he glides over to you with his arms out. “Let’s go. You ready?” 

Blinking at his outstretched arms, you shake your head, “Huh? I-I thought you were gonna give me those granny walkers.” 

Honestly, you should be ecstatic that Sunghoon was willingly offering you his hands, but realistically, you knew you’d melt right then and there by the contact. Besides, the granny walkers were practically the equivalent of a life jacket at the pool. It was just fair for you to ask for one of those because you provided him one. 

“That’s five minutes to the storage room and back,” he whines, urging for you to take his hands, “So it’s either you hold my hands or you raw dog it.” 

“I’ll just… uh–raw dog it.” You snort at Sunghoon’s choice of words and gesture for him to back up so that you can step onto the ice. You watch where your feet land, helmet on your head weighing it down slightly because it’s still a bit loose on your head.

“Okay~ Whatever you say~” Sunghoon sings. The man starts to skate around the rink, showing off with simple twirls and one-footed glides. He watches you from the corners of his eyes, your fingers gripping onto the ice rink’s boards. 

You’re tottering sideways along the perimeter, scraping some of the ice as you go. The combination of the fresh ice and sharp skating blades wasn’t ideal for you, feeling yourself slide without you trying. 

It takes you a moment to realize just how tense your leg muscles were, afraid that if you were to relax, you’d be on the floor wiped out. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. You’re pushing your weight against the boards, breath growing shaky every time you try to let go. You don’t quite trust yourself to hold yourself up. It feels like the second you let go of the edge, you’re going to lose your balance. 

Oh, fuck it. 

“Hoon?” You call out. You don’t exactly see where he is on the ice because your back is turned to the rink, “Hoon.”

You hear the sharp scrape of ice before your best friend appears next to you, brows raised with a small, patient smile on his lips, “Yes~”

Without saying another word, you hold one of your hands out for him to take. You refuse to look at him, knowing that he’d end up teasing the hell out of you and giving up so easily. 

Sunghoon immediately understands your request. He gently takes your fingertips in one hand, extending his other hand in anticipation of your second arm joining in the hold. With a gentle pull, he leads you toward the center of the ice, making sure you're keeping your balance. 

You were so tense that the thought of melting in Sunghoon’s arms had completely slipped your mind. It felt as though your knees were going to buckle, but you tried to keep your knees bent—something that you had picked up from some tiktok you saw a while ago on ice skating.

“Okay, I’m going to let go now,” Sunghoon warns, dropping one of your hands. The warmth of his hand is replaced with the cool air of the building. 

“Wait! Not yet!” Your empty arm sticks out, trying to grab hold of air. Despite your balance, there was that lingering thought at the back of your mind telling you that you’d fall on your ass if Sunghoon let go. 

Sunghoon is quick to take your hand in his, and it immediately calms you down. “I’m not gonna let you fall.” 

And although the comment makes your heart start running a marathon, you glare up at him, “You better not.” 

He laughs and distances himself away from you, remaining tethered to you with your joined hands, “Okay, to move forward, I need you to start marching on the spot like this.” Sunghoon demonstrates what he wants you to do and you easily mirror it. 

The skates beneath your feet bring you forward and you feel yourself relax in the slightest. 

“You’re doing it!” Sunghoon cheers, “Okay, to stop, just slowly point your toes inwards like this while bending your knees.” Sunghoon tries his best to show you what to do while keeping your hands in his.

You nod and you do exactly what he says, and surely enough, you both skid to a halt closer to one end of the rink. “This… this is not too bad.”

As you gain a bit of confidence, Sunghoon suggests, "Want me to let go of one hand?"

You glance at him from underneath the rim of the helmet and consider the idea for a moment. Part of you wants to prove that you can do it on your own, but another part still needs that stability that he’s providing. Swallowing your pride, you admit, "Maybe just one hand for now."

Sunghoon nods and releases your right hand, slipping to your side. “Are you sure you haven’t skated before?” He pulls you carefully behind him, turning so that you both wouldn’t be bumping straight into the boards—and surprisingly, you turn with ease, keeping your balance as you do. 

You nod stiffly, “I’ve rollerbladed? But that’s not the same.” He shrugs, “It’s the same in some sense.” 

Your eyes fall to the sight of your hand being held delicately in his. The skating has only distracted you from the fact that you were indeed hand-in-hand with Park Sunghoon. 

Shit.

It’s gradual, but you feel it. Beat by beat, your heart begins to pound stronger against your chest.

At first, you ignore it, slowly following the circular path that you and Sunghoon had begun to make after a few rotations. But as Sunghoon continues giving you tips and tricks he’s learned over his many years of figure skating, the more you realize that you can’t actually understand what he’s saying. 

All you could hear was the rushing of blood in your ears and the muffled thumping of that cursed organ behind your rib cage. 

It’s ridiculous, really—how something as simple as your best friend holding your hand is doing this to you—but you’d like to think it’s because you’ve been hiding these damn feelings for far too long and it’s trying it’s best to dig itself out of you.

Then, you hear your name and the heat enveloping your hand is gone. Blinking pulls you back to reality. You see Sunghoon skating away from you, leaving you dab-smacked in the middle of the rink. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

Sunghoon yells a ‘Hold on!’ over his shoulder and climbs over the judges’ booth. He plays with a few buttons, fiddling with the soundboard before pulling his phone out of his pocket to connect it. 

It takes you a few moments to process that Sunghoon is going to play music. 

Sunghoon's voice carries across the ice as he shouts, "I thought some music would make it more fun! Got any requests?" 

You shake off the initial surprise and manage to croak out a response, "Uh, anything is fine!"

He grins and starts scrolling through his playlist. After a few beats, the distant sound of a melody begins to fill the arena. You take notice that he chose a rather dramatic song, one that was rather theatrical, before he skates back to you, extending his hand once again.

"Ready for a little dance on ice?" he teases.

There goes the beat of your heart again. It skyrockets the second he slides to a halt in front of you, like some ice prince that’s been pulled straight out of a book. You chuckle nervously, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety. "I don't know about dancing, Hoon."

He takes your hand himself, “I promise I won’t let you fall.” And you couldn’t bring yourself to reject his invitation, almost as if the song and the warmth of his hand had put some kind of trance on you.

Sunghoon leads you into a series of simple moves, his expertise evident in the grace of his movements. Despite the nerves, you find yourself enjoying the rhythm of the music and letting Sunghoon guide you around the centre of the ice. 

As the song reaches its climax, Sunghoon suggests, "How about a spin?"

You hesitate for a moment, “Oh, I don’t know about–” 

Sunghoon dismisses your uncertainty, lifting your arm above your head. And like the expert he was, Sunghoon has you spinning in one spot, guiding you into a semi-graceful twirl. Surprisingly, the movement feels natural, as if you were floating on air rather than gliding on ice. 

Sunghoon takes it upon himself to slow you down, grabbing your shoulders to stop you completely. “How was that?”

“It was fun!” you say, “But… dizzy…” 

Sunghoon nearly overlooks the fact that you were entirely inexperienced with all of this and unfamiliar with the sensation of spinning (whether it was on ice or not). 

You attempt to step forward to prevent yourself from falling, but instead of the skate's blade making contact with the ice, the toe pick hits it, causing you to stumble forward and collide with Sunghoon's chest. 

Sunghoon’s caught off guard, not expecting you to fall forward, and this sends him falling backward and onto his back with you wrapped securely in his arms. The air knocked out of him the second he hit the ice and the both of you are clutching to each other for dear life.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you say. You can’t find the power in you to get up, “That was my fault, I’m sorry.” 

Sunghoon’s groaning underneath you, trying to catch his breath. “It’s fine, don't worry about it.” He lets his head fall onto the ice, eyes squeezed shut to stop the stars in his eyes. 

Practically chest to chest with Sunghoon, you use one arm to lift some of your weight off of him, “It’s not fine. You could’ve been badly hurt!” 

A soft laugh escapes his lips and he shakes his head, “I’m the one who spun you, Y/N… It was all–” Sunghoon finally opens his eyes to look at you and he’s thrown off guard, fully not expecting you to be right above him, “My… fault…” 

The next song plays over the speaker, slower than the last. It completely shifts the atmosphere, one you couldn’t quite name, but it matches it perfectly. Your heart fails to conceal how you feel and the music does nothing to hide its thumping. 

Sunghoon’s arms are still holding your waist, heat seeping through his thin jacket and through yours, but he doesn’t choose to let go. Not now. Not when…

“Y/N…” 

Sunghoon gently lifts one hand, cradling your cheek in his warm palm. His eyes flicker down to your lips, perfectly aligned just above his thumb.

You can't ignore the subtle shift in his attention, but a nagging doubt creeps in, making you question the reality of the moment… because maybe you were just seeing things…. maybe your heart was messing with the way your brain was functioning.

Perhaps this was impulsive, but you choose to lean in, though slowly, to make sure you had time to stop yourself if you misinterpreted everything. 

And perhaps it wasn’t a mistake because Sunghoon does nothing to stop you.

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @mrchweeee @ariadores @reignessance

an: 3/4 done 👀

[jishyucks]

MARK FRAKTSIYA, 2024

[jishyucks]

Made a joke to myself I was like what if I’m 127 on the Japanese luck calendar and guess who tf actually is 😭😭

[jishyucks]

HAN / "合 (HOP)" COUNTDOWN LIVE

[jishyucks]

𐙚 On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

Felix and a pillow fort !

Staycation — lfl

‣ pairing: felix lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l, hurt/comfort

‣ wc: 2.6k

‣ summary: Spending Christmas sick and in bed wasn’t Felix’s ideal way of spending the holiday. Being the best friend that you are, you decide to take care of him. Who would have thought that Felix was clingy when he had the flu?

‣ warnings: uhh, a jab at men when they’re sick (i’m speaking from experience), this is mostly platonic but the end is implied f2l (or else this would've been long as shit)

‣ an: OKAY this was cute too, something short but sweet and simple,, I haven't written for Felix in so long so I hope this was good enough,, PLEASE ENJOY! x

Series Masterlist

“I’m sorry again.” 

A huff leaves your lips when you turn to Felix’s figure buried under layers of blankets. “Lix, for the millionth time, I promise you, it’s fine. I chose to stay and take care of you.”

“You didn’t choose. The others chose you because you already got sick before,” Felix argues, “And I know how excited you were for the party, so don’t lie that it’s okay.” He squirms, looking adorably identical to a swaddled baby. 

“If I didn’t wanna be here, then I wouldn’t be here, okay?” You say, picking up the water bottle sitting at his bedside table and bringing it up to his lips to drink, “I was excited, but I don’t think it would’ve been fun knowing you weren’t there to enjoy it, either.” 

Felix takes a sip out of the bottle and hums at how delicious the water tastes when his throat is as dry. He thanks you and sighs, “Yeah but you’ve been talking about it for the past month and I had to ruin it with my stupid immune system.” 

“Well, would you rather it be me or Jisung here to take care of you?” You raise a brow. His silence was enough to answer you and you giggled, “See?” Although Jisung was a great friend to Felix, he and you both knew that Jisung would only do the bare minimum at times like these. 

“Are you okay with me leaving for a bit to make you soup?” you ask, “You can just call out to me and I’ll come quick.” 

Felix lets out a sound of acknowledgement and you leave him be, leaving his rather stuffy room and out into the main area of his apartment. 

You move into the kitchen, your slippers dragging against the cool tile, eyes set on the bags of groceries you had bought to cook. There’s a twinge of guilt in your chest because you’re starting to think that you were the one who had given Felix this nasty cold, but it genuinely wasn’t the reason why you chose to stay and take care of him. 

Playing one of your playlists, you get to cooking, squatting down to grab a decently sized pot in one of the cabinets. You eye the amount of water you fill it with before carefully bringing it to the stove to boil. Then you pull out a chopping board to begin slicing vegetables. 

All of this was like second nature to you. It was something you’d prepare on lazy days or days when you needed comfort, and you figured that this was the perfect time to make it. 

It was halfway through that you heard Felix’s door creak open and the floorboards underneath your feet shift. “Lix, get back to bed.” You speak to him over your shoulder, too busy stirring the pot to prevent the ingredients from settling to the bottom and overcooking. “Smells good.” Felix’s voice comes out hoarse. He waddles over to you, his blankets trailing behind him like the train of a wedding dress. 

It almost catches you off guard when Felix chooses to place himself at your side, your arms making an indent into his bunch of blankets. You freeze for a moment before you push yourself to look over at him. Fuck he was close. Like ‘you could probably count his freckles’ close. And Felix didn’t seem to care, thoughtlessly blinking at the bobbing vegetables. 

“Dizzy…” Felix’s arm emerges from underneath his blankets and his hand goes to grab his head. The lids of his eyes close and he groans, brows knitting in discomfort. 

“That’s why you should get back into bed, stupid,” you nudge at his side and put down your spoon, “C’mon.” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t want to go back to bed.” Felix sounds like a stubborn child, but you figure this was how all men were when they were sick. It was the same with your brother and your dad… and you can recall that Jisung was stubborn when he was sick a few months back, too. 

“If you’re dizzy, you need to lay down, Lix.” 

His head turns and settles on the couch in the nearby living room, “Can I lay down in the living room, then?” 

“Fine.” You guide him to the couch, making sure that the guy doesn’t fall over and hit his head, “When was the last time you took meds?”

Felix shrugs, “Like… when Sungie left?” 

You look over at the clock and estimate the number of hours until his next dose, “Okay, remind me to give you some at eight.” 

“Yes, mom.” 

“Do you want me to take care of you, or not?” You jokingly threaten, sending him a glare, though his eyes were closed.

“Was… joking.” Felix burrows deeper into the couch, “Was joking…” And he’s asleep. 

You shake your head, a laugh leaving your system in the form of a huff of air before you go back to your soup, dropping in the last few ingredients before letting it sit. 

From where you were in the kitchen, Felix moaned and grumbled out incoherent words, stopping after what seemed to be a sentence. You figured that he was sleep talking—you remember reading somewhere that it was a result of stress in the body—and it was utterly adorable. 

Thinking back over all the years you’ve been friends with Felix, there was not one day when he was this sick. He's had a couple of colds that’s lasted no more than two days, a flu here and there, but never had he fallen so sick that he’s sleep talking. 

When you finish cooking the soup, you turn the stove off and go to one of the cabinets to take two bowls out. You prepare a serving for you and Felix, using a serving spoon to pour the contents of the soup. Hunger’s gaining on you, too. You’ve been so busy making the food that you haven’t even thought of eating. 

“Lix.” You look down at him from behind the couch. The boy’s still mumbling things underneath his breath and you can see the way his eyes move underneath his lids. Bringing your pointer finger up to his cheek, you poke it, “Lix, the soup’s ready.” 

Felix stirs and his eyes flutter, open, “Hm?” 

“The soup’s ready.”

In the blink of an eye, the pot’s empty and all the soup is downed and eaten by you and Felix, who looks far better than he did not even half an hour ago. 

He’s wide awake, hair still a mess and blankets sitting around his waist at the table. A delicate smile sits on his lips, satisfied by the meal you’ve just given him and he thanks you, “I’ll do the dishes.” “Nuh-uh, you’re going to continue resting.” Before he objects, you reach over and grab his bowl and his utensils, gathering them with your own. You’re quick to get up and get to the sink, ignoring the hurried calls Felix sends your way. 

He follows you soon after, though he stumbles in the slightest, sticking to your side like a magnet. “Y/N, let me do it. Please~” 

“Lix, it’s two bowls and two spoons.” 

“I don’t care, you cooked the food,” Felix frowns. He makes no effort to push you aside but he hovers over your shoulder, watching as you wait for the water to warm up. 

“I don’t care, you’re sick,” you retort. 

You feel Felix’s hands gently grab your elbows, this time making his attempts to pull you aside so that he could start with the chore, “Y/N~” 

You tsk and shoot him a glare, “Felix, I’m serious.” 

Felix drops his arms and huffs as if he were a child being told no. “I feel bad.” 

“You’re sick,” you repeat, “It’s okay, Lix. Now go sit on the couch before you fall over.” 

Another sigh of defeat shoots out of Felix’s lips and he hesitates to leave, sticking to your side for a few more moments before he turns to return to the couch. 

“Do you want to do something for the rest of the night?” You hope he hears you over the running water, “We can watch a movie if you want.” 

If Felix replied, you don’t hear him, water running on full blast as you rinse the suds of soap off of the dishes. You place them into the dishwasher and then go to wash your hands, quickly joining Felix in the living room. 

“Do you know what we haven’t done in so long?” Felix is sitting upright on the couch, upper body sinking on the backrest of the furniture. His hair sticks out in tufts from underneath his head as he looks at you. 

“What?” 

“Built a fort.” 

You snort at the idea of building a fort in the middle of his and Jisung’s living room, feeling a bit of nostalgia when you think back to your days as kids and pre-teens. Building furniture forts was something you and Felix had always done on sleepovers, always promising your parents that the place would be back into its rightful state before one of you had to go back home. 

“You really want to build a fort right now?” You raise a brow at the sickly boy. The idea was cute, something that would easily kill the time from now ‘til Jisung returns from the party. And despite your question, you weren’t opposed to building a fort. 

“Please?” For some reason, Felix believes that you’re going to say no, “I feel okay right now! I feel better! Your soup made me feel better!” He musters up the best pout he can show you and sits up. The sudden change in position reminds Felix that he still has symptoms of dizziness, slightly tipping over before he goes to grab your hand.

And being the weakest motherfucker for Felix, you cave in, “On one condition.” 

He nods for you to continue.

“If I sense that you’re really not feeling well and you start getting all dizzy on me, we’re stopping.” 

“Deal.”

You and Felix spin a wheel to see which holiday movie you should play in the background as you build the cozy fortress—it lands on Love Actually—and begin taking apart the couches. Cushions and blankets from the living room and Felix’s room create a mountain off to the side, and you both manage to push the frames of the sofas to be used as the fort’s foundation. 

The building takes longer than you both had wanted, occasionally stopping because the movie was growing more and more interesting as time passed. But during the filler scenes, you begin arranging the blankets, pillows, and seats to create walls and roofs for the fort. 

The actual shape of the fort wasn’t the most creative, but you and Felix had decided to prioritize comfort over aesthetics. Most of the pillows and the blankets created the bedding for you both to lay in, the largest blanket, a thin secondary blanket coming from his room, was what you had chosen for the roof. 

Upon finishing, you couldn’t help but notice the way Felix grins from ear to ear and the sight of it causes your heart to warm up unusually—one that was both familiar yet new. You ignore it.

“Finally,” Felix huffs, “Finally I can lay down.” 

The movie’s just about finished when you’re both able to settle inside the fort (yes, it took two whole hours to build a fort). That feeling of nostalgia from earlier rushes back and your gaze leaves the screen and onto the blank, soft blue fabric of the fort’s ceiling. 

“What movie should we play next?” Felix questions from beside you. He’s seated slightly higher than you were—you were laying flat on your back—and you feel his forearm leave your side to grab the remote. 

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” you say quietly. You’re not quite sure what’s taken over you but you catch yourself continuing to stare blankly at Felix’s thin blanket.

Felix takes a while to reply, probably scrolling through the selection of movies but you don’t make an effort to look. You feel like falling asleep. 

“The Polar Express, it is.” You feel your best friend shift back to your side, tugging at his blanket to pull it up to his chin. 

“Are you okay?” Then Felix’s face appears in your line of sight. He’s looking down at you, lips forming a small u-shaped smile as he patiently awaits your answer. And from his perspective, your eyes cross to look back at him, eyes half-lidded. 

“Yeah, ‘m just tired.” You ignore the way your heart’s annoyingly beating against your rib cage.

Felix understands your answer. You’ve been taking care of him for the entirety of the evening, and then you both built an entire fort with not-so-light materials. 

Felix plops back down next to you, this time his arm falling right on top of yours—and none of you try to move away. You figured that it was because it felt… nice—the apartment was cold, the room patiently waiting for the furnace’s next round of heat—so the heat radiating off of Felix’s arm was more than enough for you to feel comfortable. 

“Me too.” 

You wouldn’t call Polar Express boring, but it was calming enough for you to fall asleep. It’s funny because you were well aware that you were falling asleep, you just couldn’t bring yourself to shake yourself out of it. 

“You’re sleeping~” Felix calls out. He doesn’t think he’d actually wake you up, but when your eyes flicker open to look at him, he’s already looking back at you with an apologetic smile. 

“I’m just resting my eyes,” you lie, “I’m tired.”

“You can sleep if you want,” Felix says this extra quiet, just under his breath. 

The heaviness of your eyelids was taking over, smile drooping, “Wake me up if you need anything.”

Felix gives you a hum in response, and you find yourself succumbing to sleep.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Jisung, you need to get off of me, I know you’re not drunk.” 

Changbin’s voice echoes in the quiet hallway of the apartment building, Chan doing nothing to help the younger boy out. Instead, he’s walking ahead to unlock the door of Jisung and Felix’s shared apartment, opening the door wide enough for both guys to slip through. 

“I’m not, but I’m tired~” Jisung whines. He’s practically pulling down Changbin with all his weight, tripping and stumbling over his own feet. Chan just laughs, entering the room first to hold it open for the two. 

“What’s that?” Changbin’s the first to notice the fort that you and Felix had built earlier in the night. The TV was now off from inactivity and the place was quiet. 

Chan shrugs and Jisung groans at the sight of the mess (he doesn’t know yet that you’ll clean it up the next morning), not able to get a word out because Changbin tows him away from the living room and straight to his bedroom. 

“Y/N?” Chan calls out, “Lix?” 

He makes his way to the opening of the fort, his steps light and careful because he’s starting to get suspicious that you both were asleep, maybe hiding. 

Chan squats down, groaning when he feels his aging knees crack. Then, he brings himself to peek in. 

Under the dim light spilling into the fort, Chan sees the both of you fast asleep. You’re facing away from Felix, a small throw pillow being suffocated in your arms. And Felix, both of his arms are thrown around you and falling limp around your frame. 

As much as Chan wanted to tease the both of you, he couldn’t help but notice how peaceful the two looked—probably exhausted. 

“Are they in there?” 

Chan looks up and over the roof of the fort to see that Changbin has finally gotten rid of Jisung and he is ready to head home. He has a knowing smile, almost appearing like a smirk.

Chan nods and mirrors Changbin’s expressions and stands up.

“Give me your phone, I need to take a picture of this.”

tags: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @ariadores @reignessance

[jishyucks]

FUCK IM ON BREAK RN LEMME LISTEN TO FRAKTSIYA

[jishyucks]

finally cookin up a new theme I’ve had this one for so long 😭

[jishyucks]

𐙚 On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

Jeno and desk drawer filled with presents !

Desk Deliveries — ljn

‣ pairing: lee jeno x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l/coworkers-to-lovers, secret admirer au, office!au

‣ wc: 5.6k

‣ summary: When gifts start appearing on your work desk on December 1st, you have no choice but to hunt down the man who’s been planting them. And with only 7 men on the floor, this shouldn’t be difficult… Right?

‣ warnings: nothing really?, cliche-ish ending, a lot of dialogue (I gotta get this story goingggg)

‣ an: jeno’s wooooo, honestly easier to write than I thought but it’s wayyyy longer than I wanted it to be (I keep underestimating? myself), I just hope it’s up to my own standards lmaooo, but hopefully u guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist

DECEMBER 1

Desk Delivery!

Starting today, consider your desk a treasure trove of surprises.

‘Tis the season of giving, after all, and your radiant presence in the office deserves to be celebrated.

Each gift is carefully chosen, a small reflection of the little things I love about you. I hope they bring a smile to your face and add a sprinkle of magic to your December days.

Stay curious, 

Your Secret Admirer (or would Secret Santa fit the season?)

You almost laugh out loud, blinking at the note sitting on your desk. This must be a joke, right? 

“What is that?” Karina digs her chin into your shoulder, reading the note from behind you.

“Some joke,” you reply, letting her pluck the card from your fingertips. 

She pouts, “But it’s cute!”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” you counter, taking the card back.

“I just don’t believe it’s real.”

DECEMBER 3

Today, you arrive at the office greeted with a small, neatly wrapped cube on your desk and you’re beginning to think that the message you were given on the 1st wasn’t a joke and that, whoever it was, was being serious.

You glance around the office to see if any of your coworkers were present, but you seemed to be the first one there. Your brows furrow, carefully sliding the box toward you before ripping the wrapping paper. 

You use your office scissors to slice the tape open, and then once you are sure you can open the box to see what was in it, you take a deep breath in. You push the box away from you so it’s at arm’s length, afraid that something was going to pop out when you lift the flaps open. Counting to three in your head, you ready your fingers to lift the covers after the third count.

Fully expecting there to be fake snakes of some sort, you were met with nothing (thankfully). You pull the box back and peek in to find a mug and a card. Your brows furrow, pulling the card out first. 

I know how much you love that mug of yours, Y/N…

But it’s time to retire that broken one.

Got you a new one. Hope you like it! 

Your Secret Admirer 

You can’t help but giggle at the tone of the writer, placing the card down before going for the mug. You’ve been teased maybe once or twice for using a mug with no handle, mostly because you’ve been complaining about how the edges of the glass edges left behind by the absent handles had been poking at your palm.

Carefully, you fish the cup out of the box, making sure you won’t drop and shatter the present before you can even use it, and you use your other hand to pull the box off. And when you finally get a good look at the mug, you laugh out loud, bringing it up to eye level to get a good look at it. 

It was the exact same mug you already have been using, the only difference was that this one actually had a handle.

You were so caught up in your present that you didn't notice Karina approaching you, “Morning, smiley face.”

“Huh?” you blink at her, confused.

“I would take a picture of you right now, but I’m too lazy,” she huffs, “But you’re smiling like a child on Christmas Day.” Karina blatantly points at your face, “Who’s got you smiling like that?”

You shrug but gesture to the card and the mug, “I don’t think that first one was a joke…”

DECEMBER 4

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” 

You hear someone call your name, but you don’t actually hear it. It was sort of like background noise to your thoughts, entering one ear and leaving the other. 

“Y/N! Hey!” 

Then, you feel something rough hit the side of your face and you realize that Karina was peeking over the wall of her cubicle and into yours.

“What the fuck do you want!” you whisper. You pick up the balled-up scrap paper she had thrown before throwing it back to her, “I’m trying to work!” 

She dodges the ball with ease, head briefly disappearing then reappearing, “Do you have any candidates for who your secret admirer could be?” 

Karina was speaking a little bit too loud for your liking, so you gestured for her to come closer. She doesn’t hesitate to leave her workspace to enter yours, sitting down on an empty spot on your desk, “So? Candidates?”

You shake your head, “Barely. I was only able to pick out that the writing is a guy’s writing because the girls have neat writing… Other than that, I have nothing.” 

The two letters sitting on your desk were your only explicit clues. Then, you had the thing with the mug, but everyone knew of your broken mug. So really, it was just the handwriting that you had as insight. 

“Okay, so it’s a guy…” Karina hums. She stretches her neck to glance around the office, “And there’s only like… seven? It wouldn’t be difficult to eliminate some of them.” She picks up your two cards to examine the cards. You can see her eyes move back and forth between the letters, pressing her lips into a thin line. “It’s not Renjun.” 

“Huh? How do you know that?” 

“He handwrites,” Karina states, “Like straight-up longhand writing. So it’s not him.” 

“How do you know he’s not just changing up his writing so it’s not obvious?” you narrow your eyes. 

Karina laughs, “Okay, you have a point, but let’s just say that he’s out temporarily, to make it easier on us. In the case that everyone else is out, then it’s Renjun.” 

You don’t notice the way your face scrunches up, your facial features pushing in toward your nose. 

“Hey, what’s with the face?” Karina’s head tilts to the side. It takes a beat and a half before she realizes, “Wait, you don’t want it to be Renjun, do you?” 

You don’t answer, mostly because you didn’t want to outright say that you didn’t want Renjun to be your admirer—no offense to him. Renjun was a great guy, but he wasn’t someone who you saw yourself being with. And if you were to actually build a relationship with this person, you didn’t want it to be Renjun. 

An all-knowing smirk appears on Karina’s face, “Then who do you want it to be?” 

You want to throw a punch at Karina’s knee, but you remember you are still in the workplace and you need to keep it (at least a little bit) professional. “Fuck you, you already know the answer to that.” 

Jeno, Karina thinks.

“Of course you want it to be him,” Karina puts the cards back down, “I should have known. You’re down bad for that man.” 

Karina wasn’t wrong. You and Jeno go way back to your internship days, and your (hopeless) crush on him has been there since then. 

“Down bad for who?” 

From seemingly out of nowhere, Chenle appears at the corner of your cubicle, leaning against it as he takes a sip of his coffee. And of course, wherever Chenle was, Jisung followed, standing right next to the former. 

“Uh, that-that one actor!” you lie in a panic, “From that one show!”

“You suck at lying,” Chenle snorts, “You could have at least named someone. It could have been Nam Joohyuk for all I care.” 

“It’s not you guys if that’s what you’re thinking,” Karina snickers, “Sorry, boys.” 

Jisung and Chenle burst out laughing, almost comically in sync. They even threw in a high-five, though it was out of habit. “No offense, Y/N, but I don’t see you in that light.” Chenle is practically in tears. 

“No offense, Chenle, but I don’t either,” you reply, “Now can you guys please leave my space or I’m reporting you guys to Taeyong.” And that sends them away because it wasn’t the first time they’ve been reported.

“Okay so we can scratch those two off the list,” Karina concludes. 

And you nod. 

So far, so good. This should be easy.

DECEMBER 8

Okay, it wasn’t as easy as you thought. 

All your interactions with the other guys were normal. None of them seemed suspicious enough for you to star, nor did any of them do anything that ruled themselves off your list, and you had to admit, it was frustrating. 

Of all the boys, the most suspicious was Jaemin, who snickered every time he passed your desk. But when you mentioned this to Karina, Karina pointed out that Jaemin was like that in general, always up to his own shenanigans like Donghyuck was. 

“That or he knows something,” Karina thinks, “We should ask him.” 

It was nearing the end of the day and you and Karina were sitting at one of the open tables by the floor’s wall of windows, mugs in hand while you carefully eyed the boys of the department. 

Karina’s about to walk up to Jaemin when you stop her, pinching her blouse to keep her from leaving, “I don’t think Jaemin’s stupid enough to spill anything if we ask. We have to make it subtle.” 

“Subtle, how?” 

You shrug, “Just subtle.”

“Subtle, how?” Karina repeats. 

You want to bonk her in the head, “I guess pretend like you don’t really care, maybe say you think it’s Renjun or something and see what he says.”

Let’s say Jaemin really did know who your admirer was. If Karina were to think it was someone else, she could note the way Jaemin would react to her guesses and you both can go from there. 

You shoo her away and let her do her thing, staying back to pretend you were watching cars drive past down below. 

In 8 days, the only clues you were able to gather included the fact that he was a boy, he worked on this floor (the mug thing), he liked to end his J’s in loop de loops, and there was always some type of water or coffee stain on the cards. 

The last clue was something you and Karina had just recently discovered, simply because the first few cards were wrinkled in the slightest with water, while the most recent one, today's, had been stained with a drop of coffee. 

You’re not sure if these were purposeful or accidental, but nonetheless, you and Karina took any details as clues, hoping that it would lead to a conclusion.

“You haven’t blinked for a while.” 

“Shit, I didn’t hear you come,” you greet Jeno with an awkward smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, “I was just deep in thought.” 

Jeno’s eyes disappear when he smiles and your stomach does that thing it does when he does so. It’s so stupid how you’re feeling like a giddy high schooler around this man, but you’ll defend yourself any day and blame him for everything. 

“Is it about your secret admirer?” Jeno questions. He’s facing the window and you’re facing him. You can see him peeking at you through the corner of his eye and he’s smiling teasingly.

Your eyes widen, “Wait, how do you know about that?” You haven’t told anyone but Karina, Chenle, and Jisung, the last two only earning the information for being the most persistent duo on the planet. 

“Word gets around,” he shrugs, “And I pass your desk to and from the elevator.” 

You’re guessing the two younger boys had let it slip out but you disregard them for now, “Oh… right…”

“So, what about him?” Jeno questions. 

“Just… I don’t know who it is….” 

Jeno turns to you and you’re taken aback by how tired he looks. Sure, everyone in this damn office repped the good ‘ol panda eyes, but Jeno’s hair was a bit dishevelled, eyes half closed from fatigue. You choose not to point it out. 

Jeno’s words register in your head and your brows furrow, “Wait… how do you know they’re a he? I didn’t say anything about him unless…” You don’t quite notice the way Jeno freezes up only because he wasn’t moving much beforehand. “Unless you know who he is!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Jisung told me!”

“I didn’t tell Jisung anything.” “You probably told Karina who told Chenle who told Jisung!” At this point, Jeno’s heart is beating at an erratically fast pace and he’s about to panic until Karina returns. She’s pouting, a tinge of disappointment evident on her face and Jeno takes this as his chance to escape.

“What did Jaemin say?” Your attention is easily pulled away from your friend, “Did he say anything?”

“No,” Karina grumbles, “I accidentally let it slip out that this was about your admirer and all he said was, 'Secret admirer, huh? Wouldn't you like to know.'” Karina mocks Jaemin’s voice, rolling her eyes. “But I guess that just proves that he knows something… it’ll just be harder to get it out of him.” 

“Jeno’s being suspicious now, too,” you nod your head to the boy. 

Sure it could be implied that your admirer was one of the guys, but the way the man had handled your questions was definitely something to take note of. 

DECEMBER 10

“Please tell me you’ll be leaving after you finish this?” Another one of your coworkers, Minjeong, was standing at the edge of your cubicle, leaning against the divider. You can tell she’s ready to leave, hands stuffed deep into her pockets, “Everyone’s left besides Mr. Jo.” 

Mr. Jo was the custodian.

“I will, I promise.” You don’t even look up from your screen, waving your hand in her direction as if it would make her scurry away, “I’m almost done. Have a good night, Jeongie!” 

She returns your farewell and leaves, knowing that you won’t budge until you finish your task. 

You genuinely were near completion. You just had a few more points in the report to finish before you reached your goal for tonight and you’ll go home. 

Your fingers are flying across your keyboard, fatigued eyes blinking at the words you were producing in hopes that they were coherent. Your brain had shut down an hour ago and now you were on autopilot.

Who cares if it’s coherent if I’m going to edit it anyway? You think. And now you were carelessly typing, making typos left and right. 

When you finally finish the draft, you grab your mug from your coaster to put in the office’s sink. Your eyes finally catch a break from staring at the screen for so long, practically feeling your ocular muscles relax. Closing your eyes, you blindly make your way down the pathway, which honestly was easy after the amount of times you’ve made your way down it.

But when your feet hit something that was obviously not as hard as a cubicle wall you freeze. 

Shit. 

Your eyes fly open and quickly look at what you have unintentionally kicked. 

“Jeno?” You blink your eyes a couple times to make sure you aren’t just seeing things.

Sprawled out on his desk was Jeno, fast asleep. There was a small pond of drool underneath his cheek, mouth hanging open. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Jeno.” You feel the need to whisper now, leaning over to shake his shoulder. “Jeno!” 

He begins to stir, “Huh? Wha?” 

“What are you still doing here?” you ask. 

One eye stuck closed, he glances around the empty office. The side that he had been lying on was flat as if he had been in that position for a while. Jeno yawns and stretches, his back popping a little as he sits up. 

"I was waiting for you to finish," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

You glance at the clock on his computer screen, realizing it's much later than you thought. "Jeno, it's getting late. You didn’t need to wait for me."

He shrugs, a sleepy smile on his face. "I didn't want you to go home alone in the dark. Plus, I figured you might need some company." 

You hit him on the shoulder, “You dumbass!”

Jeno winces even though you didn’t even hit him too hard. “Ow!” 

“I didn’t even know you were here! Dumbass!” You throw another thwack at his shoulder blade, “You’re lucky I tripped over your foot!” Jeno ignores you and starts getting up, pulling out his packed bag underneath his desk, “You should’ve told me you were gonna wait for me.”

“Yeah, but then you would’ve pushed me onto the elevator so that I could leave,” Jeno replies. "Ready to head home?"

Although you and Jeno don’t live anywhere near each other, your place was on the way to his. Usually, you’d walk home and go sightseeing as you walked past the small shops on the way, but because the weather could freeze your arteries shut, you’re forced to transit home. 

"Sure, let's go." You pack up your things quickly, and the two of you head towards the elevator.

As you wait for the elevator doors to open, you glance at Jeno. His eyes are still a bit heavy with sleep, but there's a warmth in them that makes your heart flutter. When he notices you looking, he tightens his lips to give you a tired grin that reaches his eyes. The office is quiet now, only the hum of the elevator breaking the silence.

Once inside, Jeno presses the button for the ground floor, and the elevator starts its descent. The dim lighting casts a soft glow on both of you, and you can't help but appreciate the peaceful moment.

"Long day, huh?" Jeno breaks the silence, his tone sympathetic. “Your secret admirer mystery still bothering you?"

You chuckle and nod, "Yes. But it just makes me more determined to figure it out."

"Any progress?" Jeno raises an eyebrow, curious.

You shake your head, "Not really. It's driving me crazy." 

"Maybe it's someone you least expect," Jeno suggests with a playful smile.

"Maybe," you reply, unsure. The elevator doors open, and you both step out and into the nearly empty office lobby. Then you think out loud, eyes narrowing as you look at Jeno through your lashes, “Maybe it’s you.” 

The cold wind hits you as you exit the building, making you shiver. You pull your coat tighter around you, and Jeno does the same. 

“Why? Do you want it to be me?” Jeno smirks playfully. 

“I don’t know,” you lie, “I’m just asking because there’s a possibility it’s you. Besides Chenle and Jisung, you’re the only one willingly asking about him.” That really couldn’t even mean anything, but it’s suspicious. You’re starting to think this was a joke set up by all the guys, and you’re the target.

“Nope, it’s not me,” Jeno stares ahead of you both, and you miss the way he swallows his spit when he says it, “And I don’t know who it is either. That’s why I’m asking.”

You look at him to detect if Jeno was lying—maybe a nose twitch, multiple blinks, or a dishonest glance to the side—nothing. 

You feel your heart skip a beat, and not in the way you liked. Because, sure, you didn’t care about who this person was, but for the past week and a half, you’ve been raising your hopes that it was Jeno who had been leaving these presents for you. 

You realize that that was a mistake. 

A weak laugh shoots out your mouth, almost sounding like a huff and you force a smile on your face, “Well… that’s a relief.”

DECEMBER 15

Losing a bit of interest in your admirer just because it wasn’t the person you wanted it to be wasn’t fair to your actual admirer. Especially when they were still putting the effort into dropping off those presents and writing those letters.

The day after, you had told Karina that Jeno made it clear that your admirer wasn’t him and she refused to believe it, delusion taking over for your sake. She said something along the lines of ‘can’t say it’s not Jeno until there’s solid proof’. 

This morning you decided to switch up your strategy and arrive at work early. For the past 2 weeks, these little deliveries had appeared on your desk either after you left or before you arrived, and since you had kept track of who left the office yesterday evening, you were sure that he was going to be coming in early this morning to leave his present. 

You greet the security guard in the lobby, leaving your mouth more as a yawn than an actual sentence before you hop onto the elevator and cross your fingers for luck. 

The office is quiet and dimly lit as you enter, the only sound being the gears of the elevators turning as the doors slide open. Once you step out, you’re quick to scan the room before ultimately settling your gaze on your desk. 

The universe couldn’t have timed this any better.

Standing at your desk, you see a figure, gently placing a wrapped box on your desk. You hold back a gasp, clamping your mouth shut with your palm, not wanting to bring attention to yourself. The man appeared oblivious to the elevator letting someone off, his back still turned to you.

You catch the sound of his satisfied hum, and just before he pivots, you quickly move to a concealed hallway, keeping yourself out of sight. A lingering fear holds you back from confronting whoever this person is, but you so badly want to know who it is. You figured it would make the confronting part easier. 

Footsteps grow closer before they stop, and you can easily guess he’s standing in front of the elevators. With curiosity getting the best of you, you risk being seen and lean your head around the corner, just enough so that one of your eyes can see who the boy was. 

Another gasp attempts to leave your mouth when you finally recognize who it was. 

Jaemin?

The elevator arrives at your floor before you can even process that it was truly him you just saw, almost as if you’ve seen his ghost and he was gone before you knew it. 

So your secret admirer was Na Jaemin? 

In a way it made sense. You and Karina had ruled him as one of the more suspicious ones. He and Jeno were close, so Jeno being curious about your progress added up. Now you have solid proof that Jaemin actually was your secret admirer.

How were you going to let him down easily?

DECEMBER 19

Despite having the weekend and Karina's assistance to strategize how to break the news to Jaemin, you found yourself at work on Monday without a clear plan. Today, you mentally braced yourself for another gift, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized your friend and coworker had been investing so much effort, only for his feelings to not be returned.

Today’s box was slim and rectangular, wrapped in the paper you’ve grown familiar with. At first glance, it looked like a wine box, but you quickly deemed it too short to be a wine bottle. 

With a bit of hesitation, you carefully pick at the paper, ripping it open before you slice the tape that was keeping the box closed. Then you pry the box open, flipping the flaps over so that you can see the item from a bird’s eye view.

Huh?

You pull it out—an umbrella in your favourite colour. On the handle, your initials are engraved into the plastic. The umbrella looked beautiful, but considering the other presents, this was… random. 

Your eyes catch sight of a card at the bottom of the box and you stick your arm in to fish it out. 

I bet you’re curious as to who I am, right?

I think I kept you waiting far too long for a hint.

A hint?

Your heart picks up its pace and your eyes scramble to keep reading.

Today’s gift? An umbrella.

Bought one for myself and one for you because we need to be prepared next time.

I don’t know about you, but I didn’t enjoy being drenched in rain at work. 

Your Secret Admirer

A hint.

Hell, it was more than a hint.

Your eyes grow wide as you reread the note over and over, your heartbeat fluttering. It flutters because you know exactly what your admirer was talking about. 

Back during the rainy season, the morning you were getting ready for work, you completely disregarded the weather forecast and left your house without an umbrella or an appropriate coat. And much to your stupidity, you told yourself that it wasn’t going to rain that hard when you heeded the darker clouds in the sky. 

You realized your mistakes on the walk to work when rain started pouring down from the sky, like someone dumping a bucket of rainwater all over you. You were sprinting, sight impaired by the rain pelting your face, flying past other individuals who had been smart enough to pack heavy-duty umbrellas with them. 

Luckily, you finally arrived at your building before you were wet to the bone. When you noticed the elevator was still open, you called out for it, fast-walking through the lobby just so you could catch it. 

“Thanks,” you had sighed out, huffing in relief. 

The man who had held the elevator open for you laughed and spoke up, “I take it you forgot an umbrella too?” 

You laugh at the memory, remembering being thankful that you weren’t the only dumbass who didn’t bring an umbrella—that you weren’t going to be the only one on the floor who would be showing up soaked and dripping wet.

Because Jeno was that other dumbass. 

Even with this realization, with this hard evidence that your admirer could actually be Jeno, you still recount your almost-encounter with Jaemin and the fact that Jeno had denied your accusations. 

You find yourself caught in a web of conflicting emotions. On one hand, the thoughtful gesture of the umbrella brings back memories of that rainy morning with Jeno. On the other hand, the recent revelation and Jeno's denial cast a shadow of doubt on the identity of your secret admirer.

As you stand there, staring at the umbrella, your brain cells are desperately trying to think up a good explanation for all of this. The evidence seems to point to Jeno, yet you can't ignore the possibility that this might be an elaborate misdirection. Or maybe Jaemin was the misdirection?

Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar voice of Karina, who has just gotten off the elevator. She notices the umbrella in your hands and grins, "Mr. Admirer? An umbrella?"

You manage a half-smile, the weight of the situation pressing on you. "It’s a hint. There’s a memory tied to it.”

Karina arches an eyebrow, intrigued. "Memory?"

You decide to share the story of that rainy morning with Jeno, how both of you got caught in the downpour without umbrellas. As you recount the details, Karina listens attentively, connecting the dots between the past and the present. 

"So, you think Jeno might be your secret admirer because of this shared memory?" she asks, thoughtful. The way her expression brightens at the thought of your admirer actually being Jeno and not Jaemin—just like you wanted.

You shrug, uncertain. "It makes sense, right? But then there's the whole denial part. He flat-out said it's not him."

Karina leans against the reception desk, crossing her arms. "He probably just didn’t want you to find out like that. Maybe he's trying to surprise you later. Who knows?"

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and curiosity. "I just want to know. I’m this close to banging my head against the corner of my desk." 

Karina snorts and nudges you playfully. "Confront him again but this time, give him no choice but to confess."

You consider Karina's suggestion, realizing that confronting Jeno might be the only way to unravel this mystery. Gathering your resolve, you decide to have a direct conversation with him, determined to get to the bottom of your secret admirer's identity.

DECEMBER 20

Who would’ve thought that confronting your secret admirer would be nerve-wracking? Cause what if it really wasn’t Jeno and you were making a fool out of yourself?

It’s your break and you’re sitting at one of the lounge tables with Karina and Minjeong, playing with the edge of your instant ramen cup. 

You’re replaying how you want the situation to go down in your head. You want to go up to him, make small talk, he small talks back, you confront him, and he admits it—easier said than done. But your goal was to do it by the end of the day, mostly because you know that if you kept this going for any longer, you’d actually go crazy.

Minjeong and Karina are talking about something, you’re not quite sure what it was when Ningning joins in, “Did Giselle pass by?” 

Karina shakes her head, “Haven’t seen her.” 

Ningning pouts, “I was going to ask her someth—”

And again, you tune them out—not on purpose.

The voice in your head is screaming Jeno repeatedly and it’s driving you insane. You want it to stop, but the only way you can do so is by confronting him.

Then the door opens again and in comes Jeno and Jaemin, laughing about something Donghyuck and Mark related. Karina notices the way your eyes divert toward their direction and she tries to catch your attention, jerking her head in their direction. Eyes widening, you shake your head as if you were saying not now.

“Shit, I got coffee on my shirt,” you hear Jeno huff. 

From where you were sitting, you could see Jeno turning to show Jaemin the coffee stain on his white shirt, pouting. Jaemin laughs, “That’s what you get for using a broken bottle. Just buy a new one.” 

Jeno pouts, “You buy one for me, then.” 

At first, you don’t pay attention to their conversation, passing it off as the usual banter between the two, but then it clicks. Your mouth speaks before you can even process everything, “It’s you!” 

The room grows silent but, frankly, you don’t care because now you’re sure it was Jeno. 

Other than the umbrella and the memory, the only other hint other than handwriting were the water and coffee stains that the cards were always covered in (and you and Karina were still unsure whether that was on purpose or not). 

Jeno’s bottle was broken. 

You rise abruptly, the chair screeching against the floor. Rounding the tables, you navigate toward to get to Jeno, heart beating against your rib cage. Once he is within your reach, you snatch him by the wrist and drag him out of the lounge room and into the hallway. 

“Dumbass!” you smack his shoulder, “It was you! Liar!” You weren’t angry, in fact, you were laughing, disbelief etched on your face.

Jeno looks off to the side, “I… don’t know what you’re talking about…” He’s horribly holding a smile back, cheekbones growing prominent from his attempt. 

“Don’t play dumb,” you say, “The umbrella hint was enough for me to know it was you!” 

Jeno unleashes his smile, physically shrinking and lowering his head as his cheeks grow hot from your statement. “I didn’t think you’d remember it that easily…”

"You've been driving me insane, you know that?" You shake your head, still processing the revelation. "I even thought it was Jaemin for a bit. All this time, it was you!"

“Did you… want it to be Jaemin?” 

You shake your head, “Honestly, I was relieved it was you… no offense to Jaemin. Why didn’t you admit to it when I asked you?”

“Probably a similar reason for why you said ‘that’s a relief’ when I said it wasn’t me,” Jeno counters, slowly regaining his confidence. 

You chuckle, realizing the playful banter unfolding between you and Jeno. "Good point."

He grins, "Plus, watching you try to figure it out was entertaining." There’s a mischievous glint in Jeno’s eyes as he's holding back a smile.

You cross your arms, glaring up at him, "So you enjoyed torturing me?" 

Jeno panics slightly, shaking his head, "No! It’s not like I was torturing you! It was just something fun! I liked seeing your reactions!"

You playfully roll your eyes. "You're lucky I like you."

Jeno freezes, “Wait, you like me like me?” 

You look at Jeno as if he just said the dumbest shit that’s ever come out of someone’s mouth. “Lee Jeno, I literally told you I was relieved it was you and you think I don’t have feelings for you?” You want to smack him again.

“Yes?”

Smack.

“Ow!” Jeno rubs his arm and frowns. 

“Of course I like you!” You’re looking up at Jeno, “I was working my ass off trying to figure out who my admirer was because I had hopes that it was you!”

Jeno's eyes widen with surprise, and then a broad grin stretches across his face. "You... really?" he stammers, almost disbelieving, “So would… this be the right time to ask you on a date?” 

You stuck out your bottom lip and shrug, half-joking, “I mean… it’s the least you can do after putting me through all that.” 

“You’re right,” Jeno laughs. He takes a step closer, looking down at you with the world’s prettiest smile, “So will you?”

“Will I, what?” you tease, staring back up at him.

“Will you go out with me?”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: the answer is yes 👀,,, Felix's is up next and it's gonna be cute

[jishyucks]

Also his short black hair is back lemme just 🫠

MARK SHOWING UP TO HIS LOOKALIKE CONTEST IM CTFU