#and they are all over each other on stage | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

svt-luna · 16 hours ago

Note

let me start by saying I absolutely love your creativity and story telling! Your Luna pieces are so refreshing and I look forward to reading them!!

We have seen a jealous Jeonghan, and I was hoping we could see the jealous side of Luna. As much as I love an unbothered queen, I think it would be interesting to see how she would react in a jealousy situation.

𝜗℘ THE BOY IS MINE

‘𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘣��𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦.’

synopsis: In the city of love, Luna finally snaps and learns just how far she’ll go to protect what’s hers.

warnings: 18+ mdni, mature content, sexual content, smut, cursing, possessive!Luna, angry!Luna, Luna’s self-conflicting thoughts, sexual tension, flirting, subtle innuendos, alcohol consumption, kisses!, pet names, piv sex, unprotected sex (girly pop is on birth control), teasing, dirty talk, dry humping, riding, degradation, edging, Jeonghan the menace, Jeonghan’s desire to be possessed, lowkey toxic, a little bit of a red flag for the both of them, they are both freaky af, pure filth!

thank you so so much for loving my works! also, thank you for requesting this, i absolutely fell in love with this idea— i have also been getting a lot of possessive!Luna and angry!Luna requests so i have mixed all of those ideas here. plus, you guys voted for a smut for this one on my last poll… so here it is! so i hope you lovely humans enjoy it!!

‘freak like me, you wanna good girl that does bad things to you.’ that reminds me of them.

Disclaimer: The following chapter contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. It is intended for adult readers only. If you are under the legal age or find these subjects uncomfortable, it is advised for you to refrain from reading further. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

There was a quiet shadow that hovered over Luna.

It had been there for as long as she could remember— silent, unseen by others, but always present. It wasn’t something she could simply brush away or ignore, no matter how much she tried.

At first, it had confused her, this weight that pressed down on her chest, something that tugged at her insides, tightening like a vine when certain people or situations crossed her path. But over the years, she had learned to understand it, control it, and accept it as a part of her personality.

It wasn’t something to fear— just a quiet burden she had grown used to carrying.

Luna remembers the first time she noticed that quiet shadow.

She was seven years old, back in Kensington, London. Her memories of that time are vivid— her mom, graceful and elegant, the very image of a ballerina, guiding her students with precision and patience. Luna’s mom had once been a professional ballerina, but after an injury ended her dancing career, she became a ballet teacher, molding the next generation of dancers.

She was who Luna aspired to be, her biggest inspiration. Luna loved ballet because of her mom. It was her way of connecting with the person she admired most, the person she wanted to be like— this was before music had stolen her heart before she dreamed of stages and lights and becoming an idol.

One day, during one of their ballet classes, Luna sat at the edge of the dance floor, her small hands gripping the bar as she watched her mom in the middle of the studio. Her mother was focused, and poised, her sharp eyes tracing the movements of each student as they worked through their routine. But that day, her attention was particularly fixed on one new student— Mila.

Mila was good. Even Luna had to admit that. Her lines were sharp, her movements fluid in a way that most of the other girls in the class couldn’t quite replicate.

Luna’s mom corrected her form, praised her posture, and used her as an example for the rest of the class. She wasn’t biased— Luna’s mom would never show favoritism just because Luna was her daughter. She was a professional, and Luna understood that, even at seven.

Luna didn’t expect her mom to treat her differently from the other students, nor did she want her to. She wanted to earn her mother’s praise the same way everyone else did.

And yet, something about that day sat uncomfortably with her. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t even jealous that Mila was getting all of her mom’s attention.

Luna understood why.

Mila deserved the praise. She was graceful and talented. It made sense that her mom would focus on her. Luna could see that clearly.

But what bothered her was how Mila seemed to cling to her mom, how she wouldn’t leave her side after class ended. She followed her, asking questions, seeking more help with this step or that turn.

It wasn’t the attention itself that made Luna’s heart twist— after all, her mom was the teacher. It was her job to help the students.

Luna understood that, too.

But then, Mila had called her “Mom.”

That was the moment Luna met the shadow.

The quiet shadow that curled inside her, wrapping around her chest like a creeping vine, tightening, making her feel… strange.

She wasn’t mad, not really.

She knew her mom was just doing her job. But hearing Mila call her “Mom” made something inside Luna snap, something she didn’t fully understand yet.

It wasn’t jealousy— it was something different, more deeper.

An anger she hadn’t known existed until that moment.

How dare she? How dare Mila try to claim something that wasn’t hers?

Luna sat there, frozen in place, watching as her mother gently corrected Mila’s posture, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside her daughter.

It was in that quiet moment, with Mila standing so close to her mom, that Luna realized she didn’t want to share.

Not her mother.

Not ever.

Luna remembered how ashamed she had felt for feeling that way.

Even as a child, it hadn’t made sense to her— this sudden, overwhelming wave of anger that had no real direction, no clear target.

It was Mila, but it wasn’t Mila’s fault.

It was her mother, but her mother had done nothing wrong.

The feeling that had curled up in her chest was irrational, something she couldn’t place, and she hadn’t liked it.

Not at all.

Luna hadn’t understood it at the time, but the way it made her skin prickle and her stomach tighten was something she wanted to forget.

She had ignored it, pushing it down deep where she wouldn’t have to face it, wouldn’t have to explain it to herself.

Because how could she? How could she explain a feeling so ugly, so selfish?

She had done nothing about it that day. She had simply sat there, forcing a smile when her mom looked over, her small hands clenched into fists behind her back as she tried to shake off the knot in her throat. And she had told herself it was a one-time thing.

Just a bad day.

She thought she had been tired, maybe hungry, even sick— anything to explain away the strange feelings she couldn’t put words to.

That was it, Luna had thought. She was just having a bad day, and the odd tension in her chest would pass by tomorrow.

But it hadn’t.

Every now and then, when Luna least expected it, that quiet shadow would resurface.

It wasn’t constant— thankfully, it wasn’t something she had to deal with every day. But every once in a while, when someone tried to take or claim something that was hers, the feeling would crawl back into her mind, winding itself around her thoughts like it had all those years ago.

It was subtle and quiet in a way that made it easy to dismiss, but it was there.

Luna could feel it, simmering just beneath the surface.

It could be small things— someone borrowing her Barbie doll without asking or someone stealing her answers in school. Or it could be bigger moments, like when she noticed a friend growing too close to someone she cared about, or when someone new joined a group and immediately seemed to click with people she had known for years.

The feelings were rare, but they came.

And when they did, Luna would find herself reacting in the same way.

She would feel her face flush, red creeping up her neck, and a tightness would settle in her chest. Her gaze would harden, and she’d find herself glaring before she could even stop herself. Her eyes would burn, locking onto the person who had unknowingly triggered that shadow to stir.

But she never did anything about it.

Never once.

Luna was good at brushing it off, pretending it didn’t matter because she knew better. She was logical, rational. She prided herself on being someone who didn’t let her emotions control her. So she never let it show, never let it become something more than a fleeting thought.

Her mind would scream, her heart would pound, but outwardly, she remained composed.

Calm.

Luna never let herself act on it, because she was a good person.

She didn’t lash out, didn’t make a scene, especially not for something so petty. She told herself that it was her problem, not theirs. No one else seemed to notice these things— no one else saw a threat where she did.

It was all in her head, this quiet burden that only she carried.

However, there was only one person in existence who ever seemed to notice this shadow that clung to her, silent and unyielding.

And that was none other than Yoon Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had always been exceptionally good at reading people, an uncanny talent for seeing beyond the surface.

With Luna, though, it was different— he didn’t just read her, he understood her in a way that made her both comforted and unnerved.

He never asked too many questions, never pried, but the way he looked at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking, was something she could never quite shake.

It was during her trainee days at PLEDIS when Luna first realized just how much Jeonghan could see her— really see her.

She was sixteen, and the bright green walls of the infamous training room, known as the ‘Melona Prison,’ loomed around her and the rest of the trainees.

Boys and girls, all in their teens, filled the space, their laughter and chatter bouncing off the mirrored walls. It was another long day of practice, but as usual, they managed to steal moments to goof around, to release the tension building up from endless hours of training.

Jeonghan had been her closest friend back then.

Her best friend.

And she was his.

They were inseparable, the two of them gravitating toward each other with an ease that made everyone else assume they had known each other for years, when in reality, they had only met a few months prior.

Jeonghan had always been Luna’s safe place, the one person who could coax a laugh out of her even when she felt like she was drowning in exhaustion.

But on that particular day, Luna felt something stir inside her, something familiar yet unwanted.

She was sitting against the wall, catching her breath while the others horsed around, when her eyes drifted toward the far corner of the room.

There, Jeonghan stood, his back to her, talking to one of the female trainees— Seoyeon. They were close— closer than Luna liked, though she told herself it didn’t matter.

Jeonghan was charismatic, naturally friendly with everyone, and she had no reason— no right— to feel anything but indifference toward the scene playing out before her.

And yet.

Luna’s gaze sharpened when she saw him lean down, his hand coming up to playfully squeeze Seoyeon’s cheeks. She watched as the girl laughed, a bright, carefree sound that seemed to cut through the room. Jeonghan grinned at her, the way he always did, that smile of his that could disarm anyone in seconds.

Luna felt it again.

That tightening in her chest. The heat rushing to her face. Her hands curled into fists on her lap, her knuckles turning white as she stared at them.

She wasn’t mad.

She wasn’t jealous.

She had no reason to be.

Jeonghan was her best friend, and she knew how he was.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

And the trainee— she was just enjoying his attention.

Luna understood.

She understood perfectly well.

But why, then, was she so angry?

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked toward her then, catching her in her quiet storm. His gaze lingered on her for just a second too long before a grin spread across his face.

It didn’t even take him a moment to read her— he had known instantly, like he always did.

Leaving Seoyeon, Jeonghan strolled over to where Luna sat, his expression lazy, amused. He dropped down beside her without a word, his shoulder brushing against hers, and with that same teasing smirk, he reached out and squeezed her cheeks just like he had done to Seoyeon.

“Nana-ya,” he sang in that lilting, sing-song voice of his, his eyes twinkling with that hidden understanding that made Luna’s heart stop for a moment.

That’s when it clicked.

After years of brushing off that quiet shadow, after years of pretending it didn’t exist, Luna finally understood.

She had met this shadow before, but it wasn’t until now— until this exact moment, with Jeonghan sitting next to her, arm slung lazily around her shoulders— that she realized what it was.

Luna wasn’t jealous.

She had never been jealous.

As she sat there, Jeonghan’s presence steady beside her, watching the other trainees continue to fool around, Luna’s mind whirred with realization.

Luna didn’t want to be Seoyeon, just like she hadn’t wanted to be Mila all those years ago. She had no desire to trade places with them, to be in their shoes.

That wasn’t the problem at all.

No, what bothered her— what had always bothered her— was seeing someone else take what was hers. Watching them try to claim something that belonged to her, something she held dear.

It wasn’t envy.

It was never about wanting what someone else had.

It was about protecting what was already hers.

Jeonghan gave her a knowing glance, his arm tightening slightly around her shoulders, and that was all it took.

In that moment, Luna understood.

The shadow she had known since she was a child wasn’t jealousy.

Jealousy was wanting something that wasn’t yours.

Possessiveness, however, was not wanting anyone to take what already belonged to you.

And Luna was possessive.

If jealousy is an ugly green friend, Luna’s friend was possessiveness, a quiet shadow, always hovering close, guarding fiercely and pulling tightly at whatever it holds dear.

Possessiveness.

The word tasted bitter in Luna’s mind, like something dark and twisted that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

She despised it.

Even the sound of it in her thoughts made her skin crawl.

Possess.

It was a word meant for things— objects, items you could hold, keep, or claim as your own.

But not people.

People weren’t possessions.

They weren’t things you could control, own, or dictate.

And yet, she felt it— deeply.

From time to time, that ugly shadow would wrap its fingers around her chest, tightening with every breath until she felt suffocated by it.

It was a feeling she had grown to hate.

Luna didn’t want to possess anyone.

She never wanted to be the kind of person who clung to someone so tightly that it hurt.

People weren’t objects to own. They had their own lives, their own choices, their own freedom. And yet, the shadow— her shadow— didn’t care about that. It didn’t care about logic or reason. It only cared about keeping what was hers close, about holding on so fiercely that no one else could ever take it away.

Luna hated it.

She found it toxic, the way it crept up on her, curling around her like smoke, impossible to escape. There were moments when the feeling would rise up in her chest like a wave, threatening to crash over everything she held dear.

But Luna always fought it. She had to.

She would remind herself that this wasn’t who she wanted to be, that people were not things to be controlled or claimed. Every time that feeling surfaced, she forced herself to ground it, to bury it deep inside where it couldn’t reach anyone else.

It was her burden to bear.

Even now, sitting in that green training room, the feeling flickered in her veins like an old, unwelcome memory.

Luna could feel it watching her, that quiet shadow, as Jeonghan laughed with someone else, as his hand touched someone else.

But she didn’t act on it. She never did. What would be the point?

Jeonghan wasn’t hers, not in the way that word implied. He was her best friend, sure, but she had no claim over him. No right to feel this way. So, she ignored it. She always did. She let the feeling settle somewhere in her chest, a familiar ache she was used to managing.

But deep down, Luna knew she couldn’t control when it would show up. And every time it did, she made sure to ground herself, to force herself not to react. To breathe through it until the feeling passed.

She never wanted to be ruled by it.

Luna glanced at Jeonghan, still sitting beside her, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth was steady and reassuring, but it was also a reminder— a reminder of the one person who could make her feel this way.

Jeonghan had always been the one who stirred something different in her, something she couldn’t quite explain. He was her closest friend, yes, but he was also the person who made her feel like this shadow had more power than it should.

And unbeknownst to sixteen-year-old Luna, at that very moment, the person who would make her feel the weight of this shadow more than anyone else for more years to come was sitting right next to her.

Yoon Jeonghan.

It was him.

It had always been him.

Jeonghan was Jeonghan.

There was something undeniable about him, something that people couldn’t help but notice.

He had the look— handsome in that effortless way that didn’t need to be flaunted. But “handsome” didn’t even cover it.

No, Jeonghan wasn’t just handsome.

He was beautiful.

Strikingly, impossibly beautiful.

His features were delicate but sharp, almost ethereal in a way that made Luna think, God, he’s beautiful every time she looked at him. But that wasn’t what made him special.

Jeonghan’s beauty was simply the surface of something much deeper.

He was naturally easy to be with. Effortless. Comfortable. People gravitated toward him, not just because of how he looked but because of how he made them feel. Jeonghan had a way of making anyone feel seecn like they mattered, like they were worth his time. He was charming, of course, but it was never forced. It was natural, something that seemed to come from him without any effort.

People just liked him, and it was no mystery why.

From their teen years in the cramped, fluorescent-lit practice rooms of PLEDIS to the bright lights of concert stages, from the endless hours of rehearsals to the long nights of sleepless training, Jeonghan had always been Jeonghan.

Their friendship had blossomed during those years, starting as something simple, easy, and natural. And from their trainee days to their debut, to their lives as successful idols, it had been the same.

The bond between them grew and deepened. The long hours spent together, the shared struggles and triumphs, the quiet moments in between it all— it was like they were always meant to find each other.

It had been gradual, a quiet blossoming from friendship into something more. It wasn’t a sudden realization for Luna. It was more like the slow unveiling of something that had been there all along, something neither of them had fully acknowledged until it became impossible to ignore.

And throughout it all, there was that strange feeling, the shadow lurking at the edges of her awareness.

Luna’s possessiveness.

Surprisingly, she realized early on that it didn’t apply to the members of SEVENTEEN, and thank God for that. When it came to them, Luna felt nothing but warmth, affection, and camaraderie. The idea of being possessive over her members felt absurd. They were family, an extension of herself in so many ways. She never minded when they were close with Jeonghan, never minded when they teased or hugged him.

And thankfully, it didn’t apply to the fans either. SEVENTEEN’s fans adored Jeonghan— of course they did. They loved him with a fervor that could only be described as awe-inspiring. And yet, when it came to them, that shadow never reared its head.

Luna felt nothing but gratitude toward them. In a way, they shared Jeonghan, all of them basking in the warmth of his presence, and that was fine.

It never bothered her.

For a long time, Luna thought maybe that strange feeling had disappeared altogether like she had outgrown it— an awkward teenage phase she’d left behind. She thought maybe she had matured, evolved past that irrational emotion, and put it to rest.

Until it showed up again.

And it was always because of Jeonghan.

It always was.

Luna realized, as time went on, that the possessiveness wasn’t something she’d outgrown.

It was just lying in wait, dormant, until the right circumstances stirred it back to life. And those circumstances always revolved around Yoon Jeonghan.

Even before they were officially together, Luna would noticed it.

Little moments that seemed harmless on the surface, but made that old familiar feeling stir within her chest. New staff members, stylists, random people who crossed their paths— everyone seemed to be drawn to Yoon Jeonghan like a magnet.

Luna would watch it happen, time and time again, seeing the way people gravitated toward him, and how they lit up when he flashed that effortless smile.

And each time, that shadow would bloom out of thin air, wrapping its fingers around her tightly.

It would start in her chest, a subtle tightening she tried to ignore. But then, she’d feel her face flush, heat creeping up her neck, and her hands would ball into fists in her lap. Her jaw would clench, and that sharp glare would settle in her eyes. She would sit there, watching, fighting the urge to do anything about it, because what could she do?

It wasn’t like Jeonghan was doing anything wrong.

He was just being Jeonghan.

But every time someone flirted with him— especially when it was right in front of her— that shadow flared, dark and consuming.

And it only got worse once they were officially together.

Once Jeonghan became hers in the way that mattered, the possessiveness grew more potent, more intense.

Luna had always prided herself on being rational, on keeping her emotions in check. But when it came to Jeonghan, there were moments when that possessiveness felt like it might consume her whole.

It wasn’t the members. She was perfectly fine with them. They were family. She trusted them with everything, including Jeonghan. And the fans— she never felt threatened by their love for him. They were a part of their lives, an integral part, and she shared in their adoration of him.

But when it came to other people— people who didn’t know him like she did, people who only saw him as that beautiful, charming idol— Luna could feel that shadow rise up in her like a wave, ready to crash down and smother everything in its path.

The new staff who whispered about him, the random stylist with a too-long gaze, the brief interactions with people who clearly had crushes on him— it all drove her insane.

And Jeonghan… Jeonghan, being the person he was, didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did notice, and he simply didn’t care. He’d smile that lazy, mischievous smile, charm them without even meaning to, and Luna would sit there, her blood simmering beneath the surface.

Luna hated it.

She hated the way it made her feel, the way her emotions spiraled out of control when it came to him.

Because it wasn’t jealousy. No, it was never jealousy. Jealousy was wanting something that wasn’t yours. Luna didn’t want what she didn’t have.

She just didn’t want anyone else to have what was already hers.

When other people gawked at Jeonghan, whispered about him, had crushes on him, and flirted with him—especially when she was right there— Luna felt like she could lose it.

The shadow inside her, that friend she’d grown so familiar with, would flare to life, ready to guard what was hers, to protect it fiercely from anyone who dared come too close.

She wasn’t jealous. She was possessive. And there was a difference.

Jeonghan was hers, and no one else’s.

Luna hated thinking this way.

She despised the possessiveness that clawed at her insides, wrapping around her chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe.

It wasn’t who she wanted to be.

She didn’t want to be the kind of person who felt like she had to hold onto someone so tightly as if they might slip away if she let go for even a second.

People weren’t possessions, least of all Jeonghan. She knew that. She reminded herself of it constantly. He’s not an object. He’s not your property.

But despite her best efforts, that gnawing feeling never truly left.

Every time someone got too close to Jeonghan, every time someone lingered in conversation with him a little too long, every time eyes wandered over his beautiful face and easy smile, Luna felt it stir again. And God, she hated it. She hated that it made her feel this way, irrational and out of control.

And yet, no matter how hard Luna tried to mask it, to suppress it, she could tell— Jeonghan could tell.

Jeonghan always knew.

He could read her like a book, his favorite book, in fact.

Luna could see it in the way his eyes would find hers when she was glaring at whoever had decided to flirt with him.

He never looked surprised or confused. No, Jeonghan knew exactly what she was feeling, and even more, he enjoyed it.

That was the thing about Jeonghan.

He was a mischievous tease to the core, always playing around with people, always stirring up trouble just to see what would happen. He enjoyed the chase, the thrill, the challenge.

And Luna? She was his favorite challenge.

Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t doing it on purpose— not in the way that would hurt her.

He wasn’t cruel— he loves her too much.

He would never actually flirt with someone else to provoke her or make her feel insecure. He wouldn’t do that to her, and Luna knew that deep down. But there was something about the way he reveled in her possessiveness, in the way she reacted to it, that made her blood boil even more.

Whenever that familiar tension rose between them, whenever she was on the verge of snapping, Jeonghan would always, without fail, baby her. He’d get more clingy, more affectionate, more of a tease as if he was purposefully testing her limits. His voice would drop into that soft, teasing tone, laced with a kind of condescending flirtation that only he could pull off.

He’d speak in that sing-song voice he reserved just for her, leaning in close with a playful grin, the words dripping with an infuriating sweetness that made her want to both kiss him and strangle him at the same time.

“Aww, is someone getting a little upset, hm? You know there’s no need for that, pretty girl,” he’d coo, the endearment rolling off his tongue like honey.

Or worse: “What’s the matter? You know you don’t have to worry, baby. No one else could ever take me from you,” he’d say, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against her ear, his tone dipping lower. “Only you, baby.”

And then there was the one that always pushed her the hardest, the one that made her breath catch in her throat every time: “You look so cute when you’re mad, you know that? Like a little kitten, all puffed up. What are you going to do about it, hmm? Just glare at me all day?”

Luna’s glare was sharp, piercing through the teasing words that dripped from Jeonghan’s mouth. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the familiar flush of frustration mingled with that damned possessiveness.

His words always had a way of igniting something deep within her, something she despised but couldn’t fully control.

Jeonghan, of course, noticed. He always did.

He leaned down, his lips still curled into that maddeningly soft smile, one hand reaching out to cup the back of her neck. His fingers were warm, and the touch, though gentle, sent a shiver down her spine. He held her there, not tightly, but just enough to make her feel trapped in that moment, in his presence.

Jeonghan nudged his nose against hers, brushing their foreheads together as he tilted his head. His voice dropped to that low, teasing tone that he knew got under her skin. “My moon,” he murmured, his breath fanning across her lips, “you know I’d never get taken from you, right?”

His thumb stroked lightly at the base of her neck, his grip softening as if lulling her into a sense of security. “They’d have to drag me away kicking and screaming.” His lips were so close now, almost brushing against hers, his gaze locking onto her eyes, studying the irritation simmering in them, the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a snarl.

But there was that underlying tone again, that subtle challenge woven into his words, as though he was daring her to act, daring her to stop pretending she could ignore it. He leaned in just a fraction more, his lips ghosting against hers without quite closing the distance.

“No one can compare to you, baby,” His voice lowered even more, a whisper now, intimate, taunting. “You should show them that, hmm?”

The words hung in the air between them, a gauntlet thrown at her feet. His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her neck, not forceful, but just enough to remind her of his presence, of the fact that he was right there, within reach, hers to hold onto if she wanted.

His eyes gleamed with that familiar mischievous spark, the one that always set her on edge. “What’s it going to be, Nana-ya? Are you just going to keep glaring at me?” His voice softened, but the challenge lingered. “Or are you going to show them?”

The way he said it, like a coo, like a teasing dare, made her blood simmer even more. He was pushing her, testing her limits again, and he knew it. He was always so sure of himself, so confident that no matter how hard she tried to keep her composure, he could make her unravel.

There was always that underlying tone in his voice, that unspoken dare woven into his words like he was tempting her— pushing her to do something about it.

No, scratch that… Jeonghan wanted her to do something about it.

He was daring her to let that possessiveness out, to stop holding back, to give in to the anger simmering beneath the surface.

And Luna hated how much she wanted to. She hated that part of her wanted to rise to his challenge, to make it clear to everyone that Jeonghan was hers and hers alone.

But she never did.

Instead, she would just glare at him, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits, her fists tightening at her sides as she fought the urge to snap. She’d take a deep breath, then another, and force herself to look away, to move on, to push the emotions back down where they belonged. She refused to give in to it, no matter how much Jeonghan taunted her, no matter how much his teasing made her want to lose control.

She never let it take over.

Jeonghan knew this about her, though. He could see through her every time, peeling back the layers of her composure with a single glance. She thought she was doing a good job of keeping it together, of staying calm, but Jeonghan could always tell what was really going on beneath the surface. He knew exactly what she was feeling, and he knew, too, that she wasn’t going to act on it.

Not yet, at least.

And that amused him.

Unbeknownst to Luna, Jeonghan enjoyed the game just as much as she feared it.

He found her possessiveness endearing, almost charming in a way, because it was so unlike her usual composed self. It was a side of her that only he got to see, a raw vulnerability that she kept hidden from the rest of the world.

And Jeonghan, with his sly smile and ever-calculating mind, wanted her to act on it.

He wanted to see what would happen if she let go if she stopped holding back and let that fiery possessiveness take over. He wasn’t afraid of it; in fact, he reveled in it. He knew how much it frustrated her, how hard she worked to keep it in check, and it thrilled him to push her just enough to see her struggle with it.

Because Jeonghan always got what he wanted in the end.

Always.

And what he wanted was for Luna to stop fighting it.

Jeonghan wanted her to let go, to show him how much she cared, how much she hated seeing other people fawn over him, how much she wanted to claim him in front of everyone.

He knew she could do it, and he was going to get her there.

He always did.

Then, Jeonghan finally got his way.

It finally happened in Paris, of all places.

Jeonghan always knew how to push her buttons, but Luna had never truly snapped before. She always found a way to hold it together, to remind herself that he was his own person, that she couldn’t— shouldn’t— be so possessive.

But Paris, with its old-world charm, its elegant streets and glittering lights, became the stage where everything came undone.

They had flown out for Fashion Week 2023, the pinnacle of their already busy schedules. Jeonghan, being the brand ambassador for Yves Saint Laurent, was the centerpiece of their show, while Luna, as Miu Miu’s ambassador, would be attending their event.

Their schedules aligned but diverged, each pulled into their separate orbits by the fashion world’s demands.

Everything had been normal up until that point.

Well, as normal as it could be for two idols navigating the storm of fame, fashion, and flashing cameras.

The flight to Paris had been peaceful. The two of them sat side by side, hidden behind the anonymity of first-class curtains, though they didn’t really talk much— both too absorbed in resting in preparation for their individual roles in the whirlwind that was Fashion Week. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a sense of routine, of being used to this kind of life.

When they landed, they were whisked away to separate fittings— Jeonghan heading toward the sleek, moody atmosphere of YSL’s atelier, while Luna was surrounded by the playful and elegant charm of Miu Miu.

They had exchanged texts throughout the day— small updates about their schedules, complaints about too-tight shoes, or a particularly exhausting interview, but they hadn’t seen each other much. The demands of Fashion Week were relentless, pulling them in different directions.

The day of Jeonghan’s YSL show came first. Luna didn’t attend— she was in the middle of her own preparations for Miu Miu—but she saw the photos. Jeonghan looked breathtaking, dressed in sleek black, with sharp lines and an effortless cool that sent waves through the fashion world.

The press and fans fawned over him and so did Luna.

Then came her own day— Miu Miu’s show. It was an entirely different vibe from YSL, more playful and eclectic, but Luna shone just as brightly. She reveled in the attention for a moment, feeling the pride that came with representing such a prestigious brand. But the busyness of it all kept them from each other again, just fleeting texts exchanged between interviews and fittings, always running parallel but never quite crossing paths.

Once their obligations were done, they finally had a few days off together. That was when they started playing tourist, doing all the things they rarely got to enjoy because of their packed schedules. Mornings were filled with museum visits— Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, and even the quirky and vibrant Centre Pompidou. They took photos for each other, snapping candid shots for their fans to see later, knowing these moments would end up on SEVENTEEN’s YouTube channel as part of their SEVENTEEN Records series.

Luna still remembered the way Jeonghan would lean into her as they walked through the narrow Parisian streets, his breath tickling her ear as he made quiet jokes, teasing her about how her coat looked too big for her— “You’re being swallowed whole, baby.” She had shoved him lightly, laughing at his antics, but the warmth between them was undeniable.

They were just two people, away from the madness of their lives for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

Afternoons were spent shopping in the chic boutiques of Le Marais, where they wandered hand in hand, occasionally separating to browse different sections, only to reconvene with secret smiles and a few more bags to carry.

They tried on clothes, Luna teasing Jeonghan when he lingered too long in front of the mirror, and he returned the favor by commenting on how she had too many shoes already— though that didn’t stop him from buying her another pair.

It had been peaceful— normal, even— and for a moment, Luna thought that maybe she’d outgrown that old possessiveness. That shadow of possessiveness that once lingered at the edge of her thoughts felt distant. It seemed like an awkward phase she had passed, something she could leave behind in her teenage years.

But she should have known better.

Luna had told herself that possessiveness was something she could overcome, that it was just a phase from when their relationship was new and uncertain.

But now, she realized how wrong she had been.

That shadow had never disappeared— it had simply been lying in wait, simmering under the surface, lingering in the quiet moments between them, waiting for just the right moment to break free.

And Jeonghan knew it, he had always known it. He wanted her to let it out, to snap, to show just how much she wanted to claim him, no matter who was watching.

And, of course, it would all happen here, in Paris— the city of romance, the city that demanded passion in all things.

Their dinner was planned at an upscale restaurant tucked away from the bustling streets. They had reserved a private room to avoid the scrutiny of prying eyes, to keep the illusion of their relationship hidden for just a bit longer.

It was rare for them to have such an intimate setting in public, without the watchful presence of managers or bodyguards. Just the two of them, free to be themselves, free to let their guards down.

As they stepped inside, heads turned immediately.

There was no fanfare, no cameras flashing or crowds gathering around, but Luna and Jeonghan commanded attention just by their presence.

Tall and slender, both of them had an air of sophistication mixed with the slightest edge of danger, as if they didn’t quite belong in the same world as everyone else.

Luna’s long, wavy, blonde hair fell loosely behind her, framing her sharp features, and she was dressed entirely in black. A fitted black top tucked neatly into a black mini-skirt, accentuated with a thick black belt, thigh-high black boots that hugged her legs perfectly, and a long black leather coat that gave her an almost ethereal, otherworldly aura. She looked like she had stepped out of a noir film, every detail perfectly curated.

Beside her, Jeonghan was equally striking, his shoulder-length black hair framing his face in soft waves. He wore a black top that clung to his lean frame, black pants that accentuated his long legs, and polished black boots that added an extra touch of elegance. His long, dark coat fell in gentle folds around him, moving with a grace that was almost hypnotic.

As they walked in, the soft murmur of conversation in the restaurant quieted. Eyes followed them, some openly staring, others trying to be more discreet but failing to hide their curiosity.

A few older patrons, French locals enjoying a quiet meal, looked at them with a kind of bewildered fascination, as if trying to place them in some distant memory. They didn’t know exactly who they were, but there was something unmistakably famous about the two of them.

Younger diners, however, recognized them immediately. A few phones came out, subtle but visible, snapping photos and recording videos, capturing this rare glimpse of Luna and Jeonghan together.

But they weren’t worried.

Their fans were used to seeing them together; they knew how close they were, how often they appeared in public side by side, laughing and touching, their bond evident to anyone who watched.

Some fans were convinced they were dating, while others chalked it up to an unbreakable friendship.

The truth, of course, was the former— a truth that Jeonghan and Luna kept carefully guarded, shared only with their family and the members of SEVENTEEN. They knew all too well how the media could twist things, and they preferred to keep their relationship a cherished secret, just for them.

Luna stepped up to the maître d’, her expression neutral, almost cold at first, as she spoke softly. “Bonsoir,” she greeted, her voice calm and polite, her French accent carefully practiced. “We have a reservation under Bae Jiyeon.”

The maître d’ nodded, checking his ledger, clearly aware of the weight these two held, even without their entourage. As he glanced up, Luna allowed a small smile to break through her composed facade, a warmth that contrasted sharply with her intense gaze, and Jeonghan’s hand slipped to her back, a gentle but firm touch as he leaned in, listening.

“Ah, yes, Mademoiselle Bae,” the maître d’ replied, his tone respectful. “Right this way, please.”

Jeonghan gave the man a brief smile, a subtle flash of charm that was both polite and distant, a glimpse of the man he was when the cameras were on him.

The staff and patrons continued to watch as they were led deeper into the restaurant, a quiet murmur of whispers trailing behind them. There was a low hum of intrigue from the older patrons, and the younger ones, who recognized them, clutched their phones tightly, capturing every second.

The maître d’ guided them down a softly lit hallway to a secluded area, hidden behind dark, ornate doors. He opened one with a flourish, gesturing for them to enter. “Your private dining room, just as you requested. I hope you both enjoy your evening.”

Luna offered him a soft nod. “Merci.”

With a final nod from Jeonghan, the maître d’ closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the dimly lit room. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over the space, reflecting off the fine crystal glasses and polished silverware.

Luna settled into the plush velvet of the round booth, tucking her legs gracefully beneath the table as she took in the quiet ambiance around them. The dim lighting softened every edge, casting a warm, intimate glow over the room.

Jeonghan slid in beside her, his body close enough that she could feel his warmth without even touching. He stretched one arm along the back of the seat behind her, his hand resting on the cushion just inches from her shoulder, his fingers occasionally brushing the fabric of her coat as he settled in. It felt effortless, as if they belonged there, hidden away in their private world.

Luna picked up the leather-bound menu, her fingers running over the embossed gold lettering on the front before she opened it, eyes scanning the options. She was quickly absorbed in the list, flipping through each page with a quiet focus.

Jeonghan, however, didn’t even glance at his own menu. Instead, he leaned in, reading over her shoulder, his chin nearly brushing her temple as he followed her gaze.

“Not even going to look at your own?” she murmured, a playful hint in her voice as she kept her eyes on the page.

Jeonghan tilted his head, the hint of a smile curving his lips. “Why should I? I trust you to pick something good for me,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and lazy, his hand slipping a little lower on the cushion behind her. His thumb brushed against the back of her shoulder, a gentle, absentminded gesture as he spoke.

Luna gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head as she scanned the menu. “You say that now, but if I end up picking something you don’t like, you’ll be the first to complain.”

He leaned a little closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “Hmm, I don’t think I’ll have any complaints if it’s coming from you,” he teased, the words slipping out like silk.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips as she focused back on the menu. “Alright, well… let’s see. For appetizers, there’s escargot, but I know that’s probably not something you’d enjoy.” She paused, glancing up at him with a knowing look.

Jeonghan made a face, feigning horror. “Snails? Really? Are you trying to test my love for you? I mean… I’d try for you.” He let out a soft laugh, his fingers brushing lightly against her hip where his hand rested.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I was just making sure,” Luna replied, a grin slipping through. “Alright, no snails for you, then. How about a charcuterie board? Some cheeses, cured meats… I know you like those.”

Jeonghan nodded, his eyes fixed on her face rather than the menu. “Sounds perfect. See? You know me so well.”

Luna flipped to the next page, detailing the entrees. Jeonghan’s hand moved subtly along the back of her seat, his fingertips tracing small circles against her coat’s fabric, eventually resting on her hip with a gentle, almost possessive hold. It was casual, natural, the way his touch lingered on her, as if he had every right to her space and she welcomed it without question.

She continued reading aloud, her tone calm and thoughtful. “For the main course, they have a classic coq au vin, which is chicken braised with red wine, mushrooms, and garlic. Or there’s a filet mignon with a red wine reduction sauce. I think you’d like that.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against her hip. “Mmm… I think you’re right. The filet sounds good,” he murmured, his voice almost a purr as he let her continue describing the dishes.

Luna flipped another page, her own shoulder relaxing under his gentle hold. “They also have bouillabaisse, which is a seafood stew. But I’m guessing you’re more in the mood for the filet tonight?” she asked, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

Jeonghan nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting into a lazy grin. “You always know what I want. Makes it easy for me,” he said, his fingers pressing just a little more firmly against her hip, a subtle reminder of his presence. “I’d be lost without you here to guide me through all this.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, you’d manage just fine. But I’m happy to help.”

His hand stayed on her hip, his touch steady and familiar, as he looked down at her with an expression that was both playful and intent. “And I’m happy to let you,” he murmured, his eyes holding hers for a beat longer, a hint of challenge and warmth flickering in his gaze.

They exchanged an easy smile, the conversation flowing naturally, unhurried, as if this was exactly where they were supposed to be.

The small gestures between them— the gentle brush of his fingers, the quiet way she explained each dish— were all woven with the kind of comfort and intimacy that only came with time and understanding.

Luna didn’t mind his hand on her hip, didn’t mind his arm stretched behind her as if he owned that space around her. It felt right, his touch a steady reminder that he was hers and she was his, even here, in this quiet little corner of Paris where no one else needed to know the truth.

“So, filet mignon for you, then,” she said finally, closing the menu with a satisfied nod.

Jeonghan’s smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Whatever you say, my pretty moon.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but filled with a warmth that made her heart skip.

As Luna settled back, the two of them sat in their shared silence, content, feeling the weight of their secret world cocooned within these four walls, away from prying eyes. For now, they had each other, the food yet to come, and the unspoken understanding between them— one that didn’t need words, just the simple, easy closeness they shared in these stolen moments.

The quiet murmur of the restaurant was briefly interrupted as the waitress finally entered their secluded corner, her gaze drifting from the notepad in her hand to the couple seated in the booth.

Luna looked up, ready to greet her with a soft, polite smile, but her expression shifted the moment she caught sight of the waitress’s lingering stare— one that didn’t even attempt subtlety as her eyes moved up and down Jeonghan, taking in every detail as though committing him to memory.

Luna’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the way the waitress’s gaze lingered on him.

She couldn’t blame her.

Jeonghan was striking, painfully so. His hair fell in loose, casual waves framing his face, his shirt collar open just enough to suggest sophistication and ease. His presence had a way of turning heads, and Luna was more than used to it by now— people stopped and stared at him every day. They did the same for her too, and in most cases, she brushed it off, almost amused by it.

But there was something different in the way the waitress was looking at him, something just a bit too bold, too unprofessional.

Jeonghan leaned back in his seat, a small, knowing smile on his face as he eyed Luna, his expression amused as if he could read every thought in her mind.

The cocky bastard was egging her on.

Luna shook her head, trying to dispel the initial irritation that had crept in, telling herself it was nothing. She didn’t need to let her imagination get the better of her.

It was probably nothing, just the standard reaction most people had to seeing someone as breathtaking as him.

She was better than this, Luna reminded herself. She wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions or judge someone so quickly. Her mother had taught her better than that.

She was a good person, a good girl, Luna repeated to herself.

Taking a breath, she straightened her shoulders and looked up at the waitress, offering her a renewed, polite smile. “Hi, we’re ready to order,” she said, her tone calm and measured.

The waitress finally pulled her eyes away from Jeonghan, glancing at Luna, but there was a flicker of something sharp, a hint of annoyance as she met her gaze.

It was subtle, almost too quick to catch, but Luna didn’t miss the way the waitress’s eyes hardened, the friendly mask slipping just enough to reveal something beneath it. Luna’s brows raised slightly in surprise, but she held her tongue, reminding herself to give the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe the waitress was just tired, or maybe she was having a bad day.

Luna forced herself to ignore it, smiling gently as she started to place their order.

“We’ll start with the charcuterie board,” she began, her tone steady as she listed the items they had discussed. “And for the main course, he’ll have the filet mignon, medium rare, with the red wine reduction sauce. And I’ll have the coq au vin.”

The waitress scribbled down the order without much acknowledgment, her expression indifferent as she glanced up, her attention sliding right back to Jeonghan with a warm, overly bright smile. Ignoring Luna entirely, she leaned in just a fraction, her eyes locking onto him with an intensity that made Luna’s jaw tighten.

“And what kind of wine would you like to have with your meal?” the waitress asked, her voice suddenly softer, more intimate. Her attention was so fixed on Jeonghan that it was as if Luna didn’t even exist.

Jeonghan, however, barely looked at her, giving a polite nod as he glanced at Luna, his silent way of deferring the choice to her.

“We’ll have the Bordeaux,” Luna said smoothly, her tone polite but firm, making it clear she was still there, still a part of the conversation. She offered a slight smile, determined to maintain her composure.

The waitress shot her a fleeting look, one that barely hid her disdain, before turning her attention back to Jeonghan. “And do you visit Paris often?” she asked him, her tone a little too friendly, a little too familiar.

Jeonghan blinked, clearly taken aback by the question, and gave her a polite but hesitant nod. “Sometimes… for work,” he replied in his choppy English, clearly trying his best.

Luna felt a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement tug at her as she watched Jeonghan struggle to answer. His attempts at English were always adorable, endearing in a way that only he could pull off, and it was something she had fallen for countless times.

But in this moment, watching the waitress’s smile widen with newfound interest, she felt a pang of irritation. It was as though every word out of his mouth only drew the waitress in deeper, her gaze growing more flirtatious, more determined.

The waitress leaned closer, a coy smile playing on her lips as she asked, “Are you a model? You look like you could be one.” Her voice held a breathy quality now, her eyes never leaving him.

Luna clenched her jaw, willing herself to keep her composure. She told herself to let it go, that the waitress probably didn’t know who they were, and maybe that was a blessing in disguise. But that didn’t make it any less irritating.

Jeonghan, however, remained unfazed, his face cool and relaxed as he replied, “Sometimes… we model.” His English was halting, but his tone was confident, and he let his hand drift to Luna’s thigh, his fingers resting there as he gave her a small, almost mischievous smile.

He was referring to both of them, making it clear that Luna was just as much a part of that world as he was.

The waitress’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of irritation crossing her face before she quickly recovered. “Have I seen you before?” she asked, her tone implying something more, her eyes flicking to Luna with a hint of challenge, as if daring her to respond.

Luna’s irritation spiked, but she forced herself to remain calm. Instead, she simply pulled out her phone, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen as she began typing a message to Seungkwan, her fingers practically flying as she poured out her frustration. She knew Seungkwan would appreciate the gossip, and it was the only thing keeping her from doing something she might regret— like flipping the table.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan turned back to the waitress, his face a picture of casual indifference as he replied in his choppy English, “Probably with her… my girlfriend.” His tone was calm, almost bored, as he gestured to Luna with a slight nod, his hand still resting on her thigh.

Luna’s fingers froze mid-text, her eyes snapping up to side-eye Jeonghan.

A small part of her wanted to gush over how adorable his broken English was, how proud she was of him for managing to get the words out so smoothly. But her possessiveness was clouding everything else, making her focus on how risky it was for him to say that out loud, especially when they were supposed to keep their relationship hidden from the public eye.

Jeonghan, however, seemed completely unbothered, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he met her gaze, his expression filled with a knowing, almost smug amusement. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he clearly didn’t care about the risk.

It was as if he was challenging her, daring her to react and do the same, all while maintaining that calm, cool demeanor.

They were so focused on each other, locked in a silent exchange, that neither of them noticed when the waitress huffed quietly and left the room, her frustration evident in her hurried steps as she disappeared back into the restaurant.

Luna let out a slow breath, feeling her irritation slowly melt away as she glanced down at Jeonghan’s hand still resting possessively on her thigh. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at her lips as she looked back at him, shaking her head in quiet exasperation.

“You know, you didn’t have to say it like that,” she murmured, her voice soft yet teasing, her annoyance already forgotten.

Jeonghan simply shrugged, his smirk deepening as he met her gaze. “She needed to know,” he replied nonchalantly, his voice low and casual, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Luna crossed her arms, frustration evident as she glared up at Jeonghan. “What if she tells, Han?” she hissed under her breath, her voice a blend of worry and annoyance. “We’re gonna get in troub—”

But Jeonghan didn’t let her finish.

Before she could get another word out, he reached out, his slender fingers tilting her chin up with the gentlest touch, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. His gaze was intense, smoldering with a fire that seemed to flicker just for her. Her breath caught, heart stammering in her chest as the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk, equal parts mischievous and reassuring.

The kiss was fervent, searing, filled with a raw passion that took her by surprise.

Jeonghan's lips moved over hers with purpose, a demanding rhythm that left her struggling to keep up. He pressed closer, his hand sliding behind her head, fingers threading through her hair as he held her firmly in place. His other hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone in a surprisingly tender contrast to the urgency of his mouth on hers.

Luna's heart raced, pounding against her chest as she surrendered to the moment, her initial shock melting into a haze of sensation. She tried to match his intensity, but Jeonghan's fervor was relentless, his lips guiding hers in a way that left no room for hesitation. His mouth was warm and soft, but his kiss was anything but gentle-each movement a silent declaration, as if he was staking his claim, proving a point without a single word.

He angled his head slightly, deepening the kiss, his lips parting to invite her in, his tongue brushing teasingly against hers, coaxing her to respond. The warmth of his breath mingled with hers, filling the small space between them with a dizzying sense of intimacy. Every touch, every brush of his lips, felt deliberate, designed to make her melt under his touch.

Luna's hands moved instinctively, grasping at his shoulders to steady herself as his kiss grew more insistent, more consuming.

Her fingers tightened against the fabric of his shirt, holding on as he continued to kiss her with a fervor that bordered on overwhelming. She could feel the strength in his hold, the way his hands held her close, anchoring her to him as though he couldn't bear to let her go.

Her mind spun, her senses flooded with him-the scent of his cologne, the softness of his hair brushing against her forehead, the heat radiating from his body as he pressed closer. The world around them faded, leaving only the taste of him on her lips, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips.

The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in this intimate bubble, a silent declaration of their connection.

Just when she thought she'd drown in the intensity of it all, Jeonghan's pace slowed, his lips lingering against hers in a series of softer, slower kisses, as if savoring the moment. His hand moved from her face to her jaw, thumb gently tracing the curve of her cheek, while his fingers splayed possessively along the back of her neck, keeping her close. His lips parted from hers just enough for them to share a breath, his forehead resting against hers as his eyes remained closed, as though he were still savoring the taste of her.

Slowly, he pulled back, his gaze meeting hers with a satisfied, almost smug gleam, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he observed her dazed expression. He didn’t let go of her face, his hands lingering, fingers tracing gentle circles along her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

“People will believe what they want to believe,” he murmured softly, his voice low and soothing, each word wrapping around her like a warm blanket. “Our fans… they already think we’re together, and even if some don’t, it doesn’t change what’s real between us.”

His words were so matter-of-fact, his tone so calm, it eased something within her. His thumb continued to stroke her cheek, his gaze unwavering, steady and reassuring. “Besides,” he added with a little smile, “that waitress? She has no proof. She clearly doesn’t know who we are, and even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.” He leaned back slightly, tilting his head to study her, as if gauging her reaction. “No one can touch us. Not here. Not like this.”

Luna felt her heart rate begin to slow, her body relaxing under the weight of his calm certainty. Her lips parted slightly as she tried to form a response, but Jeonghan was already there, cradling her face as though she were something delicate, precious. His fingers traced along her jaw, then down to her hands, where he lifted her fingers to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to each one. His lips were soft, feather-light as he moved from one finger to the next, then finally to the center of her palm, where he lingered, eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re too good for this world, my angel,” he murmured, voice filled with a gentle affection that left her chest feeling tight.

His words were soft, coaxing her like one would soothe a child, and somehow, despite her normally assertive, strong-willed self, she felt herself softening under his touch, the tension slipping from her shoulders as she let herself be pulled into the warmth of his adoration.

Only Jeonghan could make her feel like this— vulnerable, small, and cherished, all at once.

She pouted, her lips curving downward as she finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “But… what if she spits in my food?”

Jeonghan chuckled, a warm, deep sound that reverberated through her, and for a brief moment, his gaze softened even further, filled with a fondness that seemed to overflow. “Then we’ll switch dishes,” he replied, his tone halfway between serious and playful. “Or,” he continued with a slight smirk, his fingers still caressing her hand, “I’ll get her fired if you want.”

She gasped, swatting at his chest lightly. “Hannie!” she scolded, though her voice held no real anger, just the remnants of her lingering irritation mixed with a playful reprimand. “That’s mean!”

His smirk softened, morphing into a gentle smile as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, a feather-light touch that was far less urgent than before, filled with a quiet reverence instead. “You’re an angel,” he murmured against her lips, his voice a hushed whisper as he pulled back just enough to look at her. “My pretty angel. Such a good girl.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through her, leaving her speechless, her face heating up at his doting tone. There was something about the way he was looking at her, the softness in his eyes, that made her want to melt, to let go of every worry and just stay here with him, lost in this moment.

As they settled back into their seats, Luna felt an almost tangible shift in the air between them. The kiss had left her dazed, a gentle flush still coloring her cheeks, and Jeonghan’s casual return to their conversation only added to the surreal nature of the moment. She found herself leaning into him, their shoulders brushing, her hand casually resting on his thigh beneath the table.

They spoke in hushed tones, laughter and soft smiles passing between them, as though they were in their own world where time moved a little slower, and the rest of the restaurant faded into the background.

Every once in a while, Jeonghan would reach out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary, making her pulse quicken all over again. She responded by nudging him with her shoulder, pretending to be annoyed, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

When their food finally arrived, it was the same waitress who reappeared, balancing their plates and the wine bottle with a practiced ease. Luna glanced up to thank her, but Jeonghan’s gaze was already fixed on the waitress, his expression carefully unreadable as he watched her approach. As she moved to set the dish in front of Luna, Jeonghan’s voice cut in smoothly, yet with a hint of something sharper beneath his polite tone.

“Here.” He pointed to the space in front of him, gesturing for the waitress to place Luna’s dish there instead.

The waitress hesitated, a slight flicker of confusion crossing her face as she looked between the two of them. But she quickly masked it, her expression returning to the same blank professionalism she’d shown throughout the evening. She set the dish down in front of Jeonghan without a word, her gaze momentarily meeting his.

Jeonghan held her stare, searching for any sign of guilt or discomfort, any indication that she might have tampered with their order out of petty jealousy. But the waitress remained stoic, her demeanor calm and unbothered, which he noted with a slight nod of approval.

“Thank you,” Luna said politely, offering a small smile as the waitress set down her own dish and poured the wine. Jeonghan echoed her thanks with a subtle dip of his head, his attention already shifting back to Luna as the waitress left them in peace.

Once the waitress was out of earshot, Jeonghan reached across the table, nudging Luna’s plate toward her with a grin. “Well, I didn’t see any poison in it,” he murmured, his voice teasing, though the protective glint in his eye made her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a bit ridiculous for her earlier concerns, yet touched by how quickly he’d picked up on her worries and how naturally he’d moved to reassure her.

They settled into their meal, casually swapping bites from each other’s plates. Jeonghan’s utensils found their way to her dish as often as her own did, a shared rhythm developing between them as they tasted each other’s choices. He’d lift a piece of food to her lips, his gaze warm and attentive, waiting for her reaction with a small smile. She’d make a face if it was something she didn’t particularly like, and he’d chuckle, offering her his glass of wine to wash it down.

“Here, try this one,” Luna said, holding out a forkful of her dish to him. Jeonghan leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he accepted the bite, savoring it with a small, appreciative nod. His hand found its way to hers on the table, his thumb idly tracing circles on her skin, grounding her in the intimacy of the moment.

The wine bottle sat between them, and they poured for each other in turns, watching the liquid swirl in their glasses before clinking them together softly. Jeonghan raised his glass, a playful glint in his eye. “To dealing with overly friendly waitstaff and stealing each other’s food,” he toasted, his smirk making her laugh.

“To stealing each other’s food,” she echoed, touching her glass to his, feeling the warmth of the wine spread through her with each sip.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they enjoyed their meal, slipping into easy banter and shared glances, as though they’d done this a thousand times before. Each bite, each sip of wine, felt like a part of the dance between them—unhurried, comfortable, intimate. It was as if the restaurant around them had faded away, leaving only the two of them and the soft glow of candlelight illuminating their little corner.

By the time they’d finished eating, their plates nearly empty, they sat back in their seats, both satisfied and content. Jeonghan reached over, his fingers brushing a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth, his touch lingering as his eyes softened.

Luna’s heart fluttered, a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him, her fingers lacing with his beneath the table. She felt a profound sense of gratitude and joy, as though every part of this night was a precious memory they were crafting together, one that would stay with her long after they’d left this place.

And as they sat there, basking in the quiet intimacy that had settled over them, Luna couldn’t shake the feeling that moments like this— moments that were simple, genuine, and filled with laughter and warmth— were what made everything worth it.

As dinner came to an end, Jeonghan signaled for the check, slipping his card to a new waiter without a second thought. They exchanged quiet smiles as they waited, still reveling in the comfortable intimacy that had blossomed over the evening. When the waiter returned, Jeonghan handled the payment swiftly, and with one last glance around the cozy, dimly-lit restaurant, they made their way out into the crisp night air.

The cab ride back to the hotel was quiet, but in a way that felt perfectly right. Luna rested her head on Jeonghan’s shoulder, her hand intertwined with his in her lap, their fingers loosely laced together. They didn’t need words; the warmth of his hand in hers and the faint thrum of the car engine beneath them were all they needed in that moment. It was as though the rest of the world had faded, leaving only the two of them and the soft hum of the city around them.

Once they reached their hotel, they navigated their way through the lobby, exchanging tired smiles as they waited for the elevator. By the time they reached their room, a gentle, lazy fatigue had settled over them, the kind that made them crave the cozy confines of their space together.

As soon as they were inside, Luna kicked off her shoes, the satisfying clack of her heels hitting the floor filling the room. She shrugged off her coat, letting it fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap, before draping herself across the sofa with a sigh of relief. She stretched out, curling her legs up beneath her as she settled back, pulling out her phone and beginning to scroll lazily.

Jeonghan, meanwhile, slipped out of his own coat, his gaze drifting over to her as he hung it up. His eyes raked over her relaxed form, taking in the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders, her casual posture, the slight pout on her lips as she focused on her phone. He smiled, an affectionate warmth spreading through him as he crossed the room toward her.

Without a word, he settled beside her on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently into his side. Instinctively, Luna leaned into him, snuggling up without looking away from her phone, her head coming to rest on his chest as she continued scrolling. Jeonghan watched her from above, a soft smile playing at his lips as he took in the way she fit perfectly against him.

They sat in comfortable silence, a quiet intimacy enveloping them. Some couples might have found this unproductive, or even a little boring, but for them, this was everything. This was where they were most at home, in the quiet spaces between words, in the shared stillness that felt like a world of its own. Both of them, introverted and often easily drained, found a sense of peace in simply being together like this, with no need for conversation or grand gestures.

Luna shifted slightly, curling up closer against him, her body fitting perfectly into the crook of his side. Jeonghan held her a bit tighter, his hand slipping up to run through her hair, his fingers combing gently through the soft, blonde strands. He removed a stray strand from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that was second nature by now.

Then, suddenly, Luna gasped, her body jolting slightly as she sat up, startling Jeonghan. His face remained composed, though his eyes widened a touch as he looked at her in surprise.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows raising as he watched her.

“We forgot to eat dessert,” Luna pouted, her expression serious as though this was a matter of utmost importance.

Jeonghan blinked, and then his concerned look melted into one of pure, unfiltered fondness. His lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling as he watched her, a quiet chuckle slipping out.

“Aigo…” he cooed, slipping into his sing-song, babying tone. “What do we do? Hmm?” His voice held a teasing lilt, his gaze resting on her pout as if it were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

Luna huffed, still pouting as she glanced back at him, her eyes holding that familiar glint that told him she was about to ask for something. He waited, raising an eyebrow, letting the silence hang between them as if to say, Well?

“You want us to order room service?” Jeonghan asked, already knowing her answer.

Luna nodded, her eyes lighting up with a hopeful gleam as she met his gaze.

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head at her fondly. “Alright.”

Her face lit up, a beaming smile spreading across her lips as she practically bounced off the sofa, following him to the small telephone on the desk in the corner of the room. She reached for the room service menu, flipping through it as Jeonghan hovered beside her, watching her with that same indulgent look.

“What do you want, Nana-ya?” he asked, his voice soft, playful.

“Cake,” Luna replied simply, her eyes still scanning the menu before she glanced up at him. “You?”

“We can share,” Jeonghan said with a grin, his eyes meeting hers as she nodded in agreement.

Satisfied, Luna picked up the phone, dialing the number for room service. As she waited for someone to pick up, she felt Jeonghan’s presence close behind her, his hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder. Then, without warning, he leaned down, his head nestling into the curve of her neck as he inhaled her familiar scent, the faint aroma of her perfume filling his senses.

“Room service, how can I assist you?” the receptionist’s polite voice crackled through the phone.

“Yes, hello,” Luna began, her tone polite and measured. “We’d like to order a dessert, please. Just a slice of your chocolate cake.” She paused, glancing at Jeonghan to confirm, and he gave a lazy nod against her shoulder, his breath warm on her skin.

As she spoke, Jeonghan’s lips found her neck, placing gentle, feather-light kisses along her skin, his face nestled in the crook where her neck met her shoulder. She could feel the soft brush of his hair against her cheek, the subtle scrape of his teeth as he teased her with a playful nip. She bit back a smile, her cheeks warming as she focused on the conversation with the receptionist.

“Yes, just one slice of the chocolate cake, please,” she continued, trying to keep her voice steady as Jeonghan’s lips trailed lower, his hand wrapping around her waist as he held her close. He let out a soft, almost petulant whine against her skin, the sound vibrating through her neck, as though he was annoyed she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Uh… yes, that will be all,” Luna finished, a hint of breathlessness creeping into her voice as she ran her fingers through his hair to appease him, scratching lightly at his scalp in a way that made him sigh contentedly against her.

“Very well, it will be delivered shortly. Thank you,” the receptionist replied.

“Thank you,” Luna managed, before hanging up and setting the phone down with a soft exhale.

The dim light of the room cast a warm glow across Jeonghan's face as he and Luna held each other's gaze, a silent but magnetic pull between them. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail as if he was committing it to memory-the subtle curve of her lips, the flutter of her lashes, the way her cheeks held a faint flush that only deepened as he looked at her.

And she, in turn, scanned his face with equal intensity, noticing the playful glint in his eyes, the slight tilt of his lips that hinted at his next move.

"So," Jeonghan began in a low, teasing murmur, "you think dessert was really worth interrupting our time alone, hmm?"

Luna smirked, shrugging in that casual, flirtatious way of hers. "A girl has her priorities," she quipped, her voice as cool as her expression, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. "And it's not my fault you dragged me out of the restaurant early."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to fill the room and reverberate through her chest. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "Oh, is that right? I'm the one to blame?"

She tilted her head back to maintain eye contact as he advanced, her posture cool and composed, though her heart was racing beneath her calm facade. "If you have something to say, Hannie," she teased, her voice just above a whisper, "you should say it instead of just staring."

He arched a brow, clearly amused. "Maybe I'm saying plenty... without words."

Their banter flowed with ease, layered with unspoken tension, each word a deliberate nudge in a game neither wanted to end. As he took another step, Luna found herself instinctively moving back until her legs bumped against a chair, forcing her to sit.

She watched him intently, eyes wide and breath held as he loomed over her, one hand braced on the back of the chair near her head.

Jeonghan leaned in, his dark hair falling forward, nearly brushing her face. His free hand reached up, fingers ghosting over her cheek as he cupped her face gently, his thumb tracing her skin in slow, tantalizing circles. Luna's breath hitched as she looked up at him, her expression softening, her eyes reflecting an unspoken plea. She wanted him to close the distance, to eliminate the aching space between them.

He dipped his head lower, his face so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. She closed her eyes, leaning in, lips parted in anticipation as their mouths brushed. But just as their lips met, Jeonghan paused, his smirk growing as he pulled back ever so slightly.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his with a mixture of frustration and longing, but he only grinned, his gaze holding a wicked gleam. "What's the rush, hmm?" he murmured, barely containing his laughter as he watched her reaction.

She let out a small, frustrated whine, her voice soft but audible, as she chased his lips again. But he leaned back just enough to keep her wanting, teasing her with the closeness yet denying her what she craved. He cooed at her, his tone dripping with playful condescension, "Aigo... are you that impatient, baby?"

Luna's lips formed into a pout, her eyes pleading as she whispered, "Please, Han..."

His laughter was soft, warm, a gentle rumble that made her heart skip. "Now, how can I say no to that?" he replied, finally relenting as he closed the gap between them.

Their lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle-he pressed against her with a fervor that matched the tension that had built between them, his mouth moving over hers with practiced ease. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. His lips were soft but firm, tasting faintly of the wine they'd shared at dinner, and she could feel the warmth of him seeping into her as their mouths moved together, slow and deep.

His hand stayed on her cheek, fingers brushing back the stray strands of her hair as he tilted her head, deepening the kiss with a controlled intensity that left her breathless. Her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging lightly, drawing a soft, muffled groan from him as their mouths continued their unhurried exploration.

Just as she was beginning to lose herself entirely in the kiss, her senses drowned in the taste of him, a sudden sound interrupted them-the shrill ring of the doorbell. Jeonghan pulled back, breathing slightly heavier, his lips curving into a smirk as he glanced toward the door.

Luna's eyes flew open, her expression one of dazed frustration as she realized what had happened. She whined again, softer this time, her fingers still clutching his shirt as she leaned forward, trying to capture his lips once more.

But Jeonghan laughed, straightening as he gently extricated himself from her grasp.

"Guess dessert couldn't wait," he teased, reaching down to press a quick, affectionate peck to her pouty lips before pulling away entirely. “Priorities right?”

She huffed, crossing her arms as she sank back into the chair, watching him move toward the door with an exasperated expression. "I regret mentioning dessert," she muttered under her breath.

“Oh I bet you do,” Jeonghan looked back at her, chuckling softly. "Don't pout, Nana-ya. I'll be right back," he cooed, his voice teasing as he shot her a wink.

Jeonghan moved gracefully to the door, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and pulled it open, revealing a young woman dressed smartly in the hotel’s uniform. Her eyes widened a fraction as she took in his features, her gaze lingering a bit longer than necessary, clearly caught off guard by his ethereal presence. Jeonghan offered her a polite smile, his usual charm dripping effortlessly as he opened the door wider to allow her in.

The staff member seemed momentarily stunned, her steps hesitant as she entered the suite with the cake on a silver platter.

Luna, watching from her seat with narrowed eyes, tilted her head back slightly, caught in a moment of exasperation. She wasn’t sure if she should thank the universe for blessing her with such a gorgeous boyfriend or curse it for how every other woman seemed to be magnetically drawn to him. She sighed, the sound soft but noticeable, and leaned back in her chair, arms folded.

“You can place it there. Thank you,” Luna said, her voice polite yet firm as she gestured to the table in front of her.

The staff member barely glanced in Luna’s direction, seemingly dismissive as she followed her instruction but kept her attention fixed on Jeonghan. She set the cake down with a smile that was far too warm for a mere transaction, and as she straightened, her gaze returned to Jeonghan with a coyness that was impossible to ignore.

Jeonghan, sensing Luna’s mood shifting, subtly leaned back against the cabinet behind him, his eyes sliding over to her as though waiting for her to finally reach her limit. His eyebrow lifted in a silent challenge, a playful gleam dancing in his eyes as he watched her closely, a silent spectator to the tension building in the room.

The staff member, oblivious to the silent exchange between the couple, stepped closer to Jeonghan, her tone lilting with a French accent as she spoke. “You are staying long in Paris?” she asked, her voice filled with a flirtatious curiosity. “It is a beautiful city, no?”

Jeonghan offered her a polite nod, his understanding of English limited at best. He caught only pieces of what she said, but he remained courteous, his eyes shifting momentarily to Luna, who sat perfectly still, her gaze fixed on the woman with a barely concealed edge.

Luna, on the other hand, understood every single word. Every subtle inflection, every soft laugh, every lingering glance— all of it rang clear as day to her. She was used to seeing women fawn over Jeonghan; it was practically part of dating him or simply being friends with him. Luna usually had no issues with it, didn’t blame them for admiring what was hers.

But what grated on her now was the lack of respect— the dismissal in the way these women acted, first the waitress earlier and now this. The feeling of possessiveness simmered within her, a dark and shadowy friend she knew well.

The staff member’s next words, however, set something off within her.

“Is she your sister?” the woman asked, gesturing subtly toward Luna without even glancing her way. Her tone was deceptively innocent as she continued, “If so, I can give you my number, and we can get to know each other more. I bet we’d hit it off.”

The question barely registered in Jeonghan’s mind, his limited English leaving him clueless, but Luna? Luna understood every syllable, and as the words settled, she felt the blood rush in her ears, a wave of red tinting her vision.

Jeonghan, however, seemed to sense the shift in the air. His gaze snapped to hers, and there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes— something dark and almost wicked, as if he was daring her, waiting for her to react.

No, he wanted her to react. He wanted her to claim him, just as he’d claimed her earlier at the restaurant, making it clear that she belonged to him.

The woman’s suggestion was the final straw.

“Oh honey, it would take a miracle for him to like you,” Luna’s voice cut through the room, her tone sharper and deeper than usual, each word laced with a lethal edge.

The woman’s head snapped to Luna, her eyes widening in surprise, clearly not expecting such a reaction. Jeonghan leaned further back against the cabinet, arms crossed and an amused smirk curling his lips as he watched the scene unfold, his ego clearly enjoying the moment. If anything, he looked more intrigued by Luna than ever, his gaze holding a fierce appreciation for the fire in her eyes.

“Actually,” Luna continued, her tone unyielding and dripping with sarcasm, “I’m his girlfriend.” She smiled, the expression so sugary sweet it could have given someone a toothache, but there was no mistaking the bite beneath it. “Thank you for going above and beyond as our hotel staff— your service is no longer needed. I’ll make sure that your management gets my feedback on your… attentiveness.” She paused, letting the word hang in the air before adding, “You can leave now.”

Jeonghan may not have understood the specifics of what she said, but he didn’t need to. Her body language, her voice, and the way the staff’s face twisted in irritation before she huffed and turned on her heel told him everything he needed to know. The woman left the room with her head held high, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving the air heavy and charged with an electric tension.

Jeonghan’s smirk widened as he watched Luna, a low chuckle escaping him as he took in the defiance and possessiveness radiating off her. She sat there, her arms still crossed, her gaze challenging as she held his eyes, waiting for his reaction.

“So,” he drawled, moving from the cabinet to stand in front of her, his eyes glinting with amusement, “you were jealous.”

Luna scoffed, though the slight pink tint on her cheeks betrayed her. “Jealous? Don’t make me laugh, Han. You know me, I am never jealous.” she repeated, lifting her chin. “I was simply reminding her of her place.”

Jeonghan laughed softly, the sound rich and smooth as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers. “Oh, is that all it was?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. “Looked a bit like jealousy to me.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed, the spark in her gaze sharp and unyielding. She leaned forward, her voice firm as she shot back, “I am not jealous, Yoon Jeonghan. Not of someone like her, not of anyone like her. Do you really think I’d waste my time and energy on something so… so… trivial?”

Jeonghan’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, his amusement only growing as he watched the fire flare in her eyes. “Of course not,” he replied, dragging out the words with deliberate ease. “I must have it wrong, then.” His tone was mockingly thoughtful as he tilted his head, studying her intently. “It’s not jealousy, hmm?” He paused, then added, “No… it’s just my possessive little bunny finally showing her true colors.”

The nickname made Luna’s retort die on her lips. She inhaled sharply, a flicker of awareness flashing across her face as his words settled, leaving her momentarily speechless. Because as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew he was right. The word “possessive” rang true, and he could see the admission in her eyes before she even had to say it.

Unwilling to concede completely, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a huff, her expression guarded yet defiant. Jeonghan’s eyes softened with an amused glint as he took in her posture, seeing through every layer she tried to hide behind. He lowered himself down, crouching directly in front of her, bringing their faces level. His gaze was warm yet teasing, as if he were savoring this moment of truth between them.

Luna met his eyes, her gaze unwavering, though there was a slight flush in her cheeks. She might have given in this time, but her defiance lingered, a silent reminder that this battle between them was far from over.

Luna narrowed her eyes, though she couldn’t help the corner of her lips tugging upward. “Don’t flatter yourself, Yoon Jeonghan. I was being considerate,” she replied coolly, the fire in her eyes flickering dangerously. “Thought she’d appreciate knowing that she was wasting her time.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the way she held her ground, the tension between them sizzling with every exchange. “Well,” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering at her cheek, “considerate or not, I have to say, I like seeing this side of you.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with a challenge. “And which side is that?”

“The side that knows I’m hers,” he replied smoothly, his gaze never leaving hers.

Luna’s breath hitched slightly, but she kept her composure, refusing to let him see just how much his words affected her. Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper as she said, “Then I hope you remember it, too.”

Jeonghan’s smirk softened into something deeper, his eyes warm as he leaned down, his lips just a breath away from hers. “Trust me,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at him, her gaze unwavering, an amused spark dancing in her eyes. "Yeah?" she asked, her tone laced with playful skepticism as her arm snaked around his neck, pulling him just a little closer.

Jeonghan held her gaze, unflinching, the corners of his mouth curling in that infuriatingly charming way. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly rose from his crouching position in front of her, her arms still looped around his neck, lifting with him as he stood. Their faces remained mere inches apart, the tension between them crackling like electricity in the air.

"Yeah," he breathed out, his voice low and filled with certainty. He gently guided her to rise with him, his hands steady at her waist, and in one fluid motion, he turned them around. Before she fully registered the shift, Jeonghan had slipped into the chair she'd been sitting in moments earlier, leaving her standing between his legs, his hands still firmly on her waist.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he tugged her closer, pulling her down onto his lap in one swift motion that caught her completely off guard. She gasped, her voice spilling out in a startled laugh as she found herself straddling him, her knees bracketing his hips as she settled in his lap.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, her heart pounding as she gazed down at him, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck once more. She began to absentmindedly toy with a strand of his long hair, letting it curl around her fingers as a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan leaned back in the chair with a lazy, contented grin, his fingers pressing into her waist with a possessive hold. He adjusted himself in the seat, pushing his hips deeper into the cushion and sinking further into the chair, all while his gaze never left hers.

"You seem comfortable," she remarked, a teasing edge to her voice, but the way her fingers trailed through his hair betrayed just how much she was enjoying this, too.

Jeonghan's grin only widened, his fingers tracing gentle circles against her waist.

"Comfortable?" he echoed, his eyes glinting up at her. "With you right here? Very comfortable." He gave her waist a light squeeze, leaning back even further, as if daring her to keep her balance as he gently guided her hips to move against his with a teasing smirk, showing him how much her little stunt earlier had affecting him.

"How about you, hmm? Are you comfortable?" Jeonghan asked her.

Luna's breath hitched as she felt the hard length of him straining against his pants, pressing against her through the thin fabric of her skirt that has ridden up. She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she savored the sensation, her hips instinctively rolling against him in response. When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that mirrored his own.

"Not quite," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers tightening in his hair. "But I could be."

Jeonghan's smirk faded, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated desire. His grip on her waist tightened, his thumbs tracing circles on her skin, pushing her skirt higher up her thighs. "What do you want, my angel?" he growled, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down her spine.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to prove to me that your mine, Hannie."

He groaned, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her closer, his hips bucking against her. "Fuck, Jiyeon," he swore, his voice ragged, "you drive me crazy. Is that what you want?"

She smirked, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she rocked against him, her eyes locked onto his. "Uh huh. That's the plan," she purred, her voice laced with a sultry promise.

Jeonghan's hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt up until it bunched around her waist, baring her to him. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his breath hitching as he watched Luna grind onto him, her blonde hair messy as she leaned back, his fingers tightening around her waist as he helped her grind on him. His cock throbbed, pressing painfully against his zipper, desperate to be freed. He could feel her heat through her panties, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to rip them off and bury himself inside her right then and there.

"Fuck, Luna," he groaned, his voice strained as he watched her, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Just like that."

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she continued to ride him, her movements growing bolder, more confident. "Your mine right?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Say it, Han. Please, tell me you're mine."

Jeonghan's grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he thrust his hips upward, meeting her grinding movements with his own. "I'm yours, Bae Jiyeon," he growled, his voice ragged with need. "Always fucking yours. I’m yours, every single part of me… don’t ever forget that.”

Luna’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she reached down between them, her fingers finding the button of his pants. With a quick flick, she popped it open, her knuckles brushing against his straining erection as she lowered the zipper.

Jeonghan hissed, his hips jerking involuntarily at the contact, his eyes never leaving hers. Luna licked her lips, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling both his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock. It sprang forth, hard and ready, and she couldn't help but admire the sight of him, her mouth watering at the thought of having him inside her.

Jeonghan watched her, his chest heaving as he waited for her next move. Luna's eyes flicked up to meet his, a wicked glint in them as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, giving it a slow, firm stroke that made him groan. Jeonghan's grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he fought to maintain control.

"Baby," he purred, his voice ragged. "You're killing me."

She smirked, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she continued to stroke him, her thumb swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. "Not yet, baby," she whispered, her voice laced with a sultry promise. "But I will." His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his breath hitching as he watched Luna grind onto him, her blonde hair messy as she leaned back, her fingers tightening around his shaft.

His cock throbbed, desperate to be inside her, but he wanted to watch her, to see her lose control.

"Grind on my lap, pretty angel," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Show me how much you want me."

Luna's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and excitement, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. She hesitated for a moment before slowly started moving her hips back and forth faster while Jeonghan leaned back, his hands falling off her waist as he let her do all the work. Luna's eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting back as she focused on the sensation of his hard length rubbing against her clit through her soaked panties. She moaned, her fingers tightening around his cock, stroking him in rhythm with her movements.

Jeonghan watched her, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of her. Her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. He could feel her heat, her wetness seeping through her panties, coating his length.

The friction was exquisite, driving him wild, but he wanted more. He wanted to feel her bare, to slide into her warmth without any barriers. He reached up, his hands finding the hem of her shirt, and in one swift motion, he pulled it off, revealing her lacy bra underneath. Luna's eyes flew open, her pupils dilated with desire as she looked down at him, her chest heaving.

"Han..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Shh," he hushed her, his fingers trailing up her stomach, between her breasts, until they reached the clasp of her bra.

With a flick of his wrist, it came undone, and her breasts spilled out, her nipples already hard and aching for his touch. Luna gasped, her back arching as he cupped one breast, his thumb circling her nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

"Fuck, Han… Hannie," she moaned, her hips grinding harder against him, seeking friction, needing release. "I need you."

He growled, his eyes locked onto her bouncing tits, his cock throbbing with need. "You want my cock, angel?" he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me how bad you want it."

Luna whimpered, her hips rolling against him, her pussy aching for him. "I want it so fucking bad, Han," she panted, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you inside me. Now."

Jeonghan's grip on her hip tightened, his other hand moving to her ass, squeezing it roughly as he helped her grind against him. "You want me to fuck you, my pretty girl?" he coos, his voice low and dirty.

"Say it, Jiyeon. Beg for me."

Luna's breath hitched, her eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and excitement. She loved it when he talked to her like that, when he took control and demanded things from her. It made her feel alive, desired, and utterly fucking sexy.

"I want you, oppa," she moaned, her hips rolling against him, her pussy throbbing with need. "I need you to fuck me hard. Please."

“You do?” Jeonghan hummed as his eyes darkened, his grip on her hip and ass tightening as he lifted her slightly, sliding her panties to the side before positioning himself at her entrance.

Luna's breath hitched as she nodded, her eyes locked onto his as she felt the head of his cock press against her, hot and ready. She was soaking wet, her panties drenched, and she could feel her arousal coating his length, making it slick and easy for him to slide in.

"Look at me, Jiyeonie. Let me see that beautiful face," Jeonghan instructed, his voice low and rough. "I want to see your eyes when I fuck you."

She nodded, her gaze never wavering as he slowly pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her completely. Luna's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to his size, her inner walls stretching to accommodate him. Jeonghan groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the feeling of being inside her, her tight heat enveloping him completely.

"Fuck, angel," he moaned, his voice strained as he opened his eyes to look at her. "You feel so fucking good."

She smirked, her hips rolling against him, taking him deeper. "I could say the same to you, Hannie," she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction.

She began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, sensuous dance as she rode him, taking him deeper with each thrust. Jeonghan's fingers dug into her flesh, his grip tight as he helped guide her movements, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Nana-ya," he groaned, his voice ragged as he watched her, his cock throbbing inside her. "You feel so good. All mine."

Luna smirked, her nails raking down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. "All yours, huh?" she taunted, her voice low and sultry. "Prove it, Han. Fuck me like you mean it."

Jeonghan's eyes flashed with a primal hunger, his grip on her hips tightening as he slammed up into her, making her gasp. "Like this, baby?" he growled, his voice laced with a dark intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

“Han– Oh, fuck, baby,” Luna's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she met his thrusts, her hips rolling against him, taking him deeper with each stroke.

“Look at you, getting all flustered… my little bunny can’t handle a bit of the attention now, hmm?” Jeonghan's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he slammed into her, his cock filling her completely, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her that made her see stars. “That feel good? Yeah? Just like this?”

"Fuck, Jeonghan!" she cried out, her head tilting back, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. "Yes! Just like that!"

Jeonghan chuckled, his teeth sinking into her neck, marking her as he pounded into her, his hips moving with a ferocity that took her breath away.

Luna's fingers clawed at his back, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving red welts in their wake. She could feel the heat building inside her, her orgasm approaching like a freight train, threatening to consume her whole.

"Oppa– Han…," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I'm close."

He lifted his head, his eyes burning into hers, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. "Not yet, baby,” he tutted, his voice low and rough as he stopped making Luna whine. "Not until I say so."

She glared at him, her chest heaving, her body aching for release. "You're being mean, Hannie," she panted, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

He smirked, before lifting her as he stood up off the chair, her legs wrapping around his waist as he placed her on the bed. "Am I being mean to you, bunny?" he cooed, his voice laced with amusement, "But you like it when I’m like this."

Luna's eyes flashed with anger, but he could see the desire burning in them, too.

She wanted this, needed this, just as much as he did. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a fierce, demanding kiss, his tongue sliding in to tangle with hers. She moaned, her body melting into his, her legs tightening around his waist as she ground against him, seeking friction.

Jeonghan broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin, leaving marks that would remind her of this moment, of him, long after tonight was over. He pushed her back onto the bed, his body following hers down, his hips settling between her thighs.

Luna's breath hitched as she felt the weight of him, the hard length of him pressed against her, throbbing with need. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and defiance, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

Jeonghan smirked, his eyes darkening as he took in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and her heaving chest. "You're so fucking beautiful, my love," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

His hands traced patterns on her skin, his fingers skimming over her curves, making her shiver. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, hot and insistent, and it made her ache for him even more.

"Hannie," she whispered, her voice laced with desperation. "Please."

He chuckled, a low, dirty sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Please what, Nana-ya?" he teased, his fingers dipping lower, tracing the edge of her panties. "What do you want me to do to you? “What is it, baby? You want more? Just say the word, and it’s yours.”

Luna's breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, her eyes locked onto his. "Fuck me, baby, please," she pleaded, her voice ragged with need. "Make me come.”

Jeonghan's eyes darkened, his grip on her thigh tightening as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down roughly. He grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide, and positioned himself at her entrance. She was soaking wet, her arousal coating his length, making it slick and easy for him to slide back in.

Jeonghan's eyes locked onto hers as he slowly pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her completely. “You know I’d do anything for you, right? Anything to make my baby happy. God– I’m in fucking love with you.”

He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the feeling of being inside her, her tight heat enveloping him completely.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you, my sweet girl?” Jeonghan groaned as he continued to thrust into her. She could feel the heat building inside her, her orgasm approaching like a storm on the horizon.

“Han," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."

Jeonghan moaned, his grip on her hips tightening, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Come for me, Jiyeonie," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Come all over my cock, baby. Show me how much you love it."

Luna's breath hitched, her fingers clawing at his back as she felt the heat inside her coil tighter, ready to snap. "Han," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

“I know, I know baby,” He tightened his hold on her, his hips slamming into hers, his cock filling her completely. "Do it, bunny," he grunted, his voice strained. "Come for me.”

And just like that, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, consuming her whole.

“Fuck, Han!” She whined his name, her body convulsing beneath him, her inner walls clamping down around him, milking him for all he was worth. Jeonghan groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his hot seed.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breaths ragged as they came down from their high. Jeonghan rolled off her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close as he spooned her from behind.

Luna's breath was still ragged, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to regain some semblance of composure. She could feel Jeonghan's cock, still semi-hard, nestled against her ass, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"Fuck," Jeonghan murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice still heavy with desire. "You drive me insane. Only you, baby. Only ever you," Jeonghan told her, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

She hummed in agreement, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the warmth of his body pressed against hers. "Only me," she agreed, her voice soft, intimate, as she turned to face him, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Her back pressed further into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart matching her own.

"My pretty girl," he muttered against her lips, breaking the kiss to look at her, his gaze dark with desire and affection. "You're insatiable."

A smirk danced across her lips as she pulled away slightly, just enough to settle her head on his chest, draping herself over him with a kind of lazy confidence. "I can't help it," she whispered, her voice taking on a sultry edge. "You bring out the best and worst in me, Hannie."

Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, wrapping his arms around her, fingers tracing idle patterns along her back. "Well, l'd hate to deprive you of such excellent inspiration," he replied, a playful glint in his eye. "Though if this is the 'worst' in you... I think I might be the luckiest guy alive."

She gave him a playful glare, swatting at his chest. "Don't get too cocky now," she teased, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "I think you're the only one allowed to be cocky here." He leaned down, brushing his lips over her forehead with a featherlight touch. "I'm just here to keep up, give you what you need, and maybe make you a little crazy along the way."

Luna let out a soft laugh, rolling her eyes at his words, but she felt her heart swell with the warmth only he could give her. "Maybe?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"Fine," he conceded, smirking. "A lot crazy. But only for me, right?"

She settled back into him, her voice barely a whisper. "Only for you. Only ever you."

Luna hummed in satisfaction, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest as she snuggled closer, her body worn out from the intense lovemaking.

They lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Luna could feel Jeonghan's chest rising and falling rapidly under her, his heart beating rapidly against her ear. She could feel his lips pressed against her forehead, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

Luna savored the way Jeonghan made her feel— a feeling of belonging so profound that it left her utterly captivated. She felt claimed, possessed in the best possible way, like she was both his entire world and something he would fight to keep all to himself. No one had ever made her feel like this before, like she was more than just someone to hold.

Jeonghan made her feel desired, cherished, protected… all at once.

She loved the softness in his touch, the gentleness in his eyes, and the way he could melt her defenses with a single word. But she also loved the way he unleashed something wilder within her, something she hadn’t even known existed until she met him. He made her feel wild and untamed, free to give in to desires that once felt foreign, unrestrained in a way that sent a thrill racing through her.

For the first time in her twenty-six years of existence, Luna found herself thankful for the presence of that lingering shadow she usually kept hidden—possessiveness. It was always there, lurking quietly, rarely stirred.

But Jeonghan, with his effortless charm, his mischievous smile, and that knowing gaze, he brought it to life. And instead of shying away from it, she welcomed it. She embraced it because it meant she didn’t have to hold back when it came to him. She could be unapologetically hers and his all at once, unguarded in her feelings, reveling in the thrill of knowing he was hers to claim just as much as he claimed her.

Just as she was sinking into this feeling, basking in that delicious sense of belonging, a sudden thought shot through her mind, jolting her from the warmth of Jeonghan’s arms.

Luna gasped, sitting up abruptly.

Jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hand immediately coming up to steady her, a flash of worry crossing his face. “What?” he asked, his tone laced with confusion and a hint of alarm.

She pouted, her gaze darting toward the table. “My cake!” she exclaimed, voice tinged with frustration as she moved to get up.

Jeonghan watched her, and after a second of stunned silence, he sighed and chuckled, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “You’ve got to stop scaring me like that,” he muttered, standing up to grab the cake himself before she could.

Luna huffed, crossing her arms and shooting him a playful glare. “The cake, Han!” she complained, her pout only deepening at his apparent lack of urgency.

He held up his hands in surrender, smirking as he reached for the cake on the table. “Alright, alright,” he said, indulging her with a gentle tone, his voice full of doting affection as he brought it over to her. “Here’s your precious cake, my demanding little bunny that I love so much.”

“I love you more,” Luna replied instantly, her focus shifting entirely to the cake now in her hands, a gleam of satisfaction lighting up her face.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk. “Are you talking about the cake or me?” he asked, his tone deadpan but his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Luna’s head snapped up, her gaze narrowing as she glared at him, lips curling into a stubborn pout. She held the cake protectively, as if shielding it from any further teasing.

Jeonghan chuckled, clearly entertained by her reaction. He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against her cheek, his voice dropping to a soft, affectionate coo. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Nana-ya,” he teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I know you love me more. But you’re still adorable when you’re pretending otherwise.”

Luna’s pout deepened, but the hint of a smile betrayed her. She rolled her eyes, and despite herself, her lips quirked upward just slightly.

Jeonghan’s chuckle turned into a warm laugh, his gaze filled with that familiar mix of mischief and adoration that only he could pull off. And in that cozy, sweet moment, with Luna clutching her beloved cake and Jeonghan’s laughter filling the room, the night felt perfect— just the two of them, in their own little world.

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pookietv · 1 day ago

Text

groupie | arthurtv

got this request for a desperate arthur with a sexy singer... and how could i deny the people what they wanted?

cw: smut

the bright lights of a stage always brought a slight glowy sheen to anyone, skin kissed by the spotlight as you followed your routine.

it was the last leg of your tour after releasing your latest album, the three london shows your final performances, and of course your boyfriend had been there for every show possible.

he had missed most of them, due to his own work, with filming and podcast sessions booked so far in advance that you had missed each other - really missed each other.

you were known for being slightly promiscuous on stage, and today was no different, your frame clad in a skimpy baby pink dress with a heart cut out just above your chest, sleeveless and the underneath of your dress with only the smallest amount to preserve your modesty from the crowd.

and as you paraded around the stage, sultry poses and suggestive lyrics as you pandered beautifully to the crowd, arthur could feel his jaw tensing slightly as his eyes followed your every move from backstage. he got the privilege of watching backstage, more specifically from a live stream predominantly to ensure everything went right for stage technicians, but he got a view too from the dressing room that had been reserved for you, plastered on a big tv as it was all he could do to stop himself from drooling.

the time dragged on, the hardness in his pants almost painful as he watched each sinful movement on the stage, from slight winks to the crowd to perfectly choreographed dances specifically made to drive people crazy - and it was working.

the tips of arthur's ears were red, slight groans leaving him each time he watched you do the next alluring move, his chest heaving slightly with each panted breath - he was tense, to say the least.

so when you eventually finished the show, lights dimming as crowds began to exit and you made your way to your dressing room, opening the door to be greeted with a wide eyed, needy arthur had not been what you were expecting, but before anything else could be said, he was pulling yourself towards him, lips attaching to your own before you could even catch your breath.

"so pretty, so so pretty," he murmured in between trying to press his body as physically close to yours as he could, tongue pushing against your own in a borderline ravenous attack, as you felt his hard member press against your thigh, his own hips bucking slightly at the sensation of his clothed sensitive tip rutting against your own core, pushing forward and back slightly to grant himself even the slightest moment of frictional relief.

"god, whats gotten into you?" you giggled in between more open mouthed, sloppy kisses being pressed against you, but you were met with a slight groan.

"need you, so bad," he mumbled, lips pressing against your collarbone, leaving wet kisses in his wake as you both whined a little at the mutual feeling, arthurs hips still jerking as you pushed him backwards slightly, onto the soft material of the red sofa in the room, straddling his lap with a slight teasing grin on your face.

"please," you heard him say softly, almost under his breath, as your fingers went gently to his zipper, eagerly pulling it down. he followed suit, his hands pushing up your dress slightly and thumbs tucking into your waistband, pulling down your panties swiftly as you similarly pulled arthur's length from his waistband, thumb running over the dark pink tip, looking almost painfully hard as his eyes looked at you pleadingly, opened wide and almost desperate looking.

he was a sight to behold, hair mussed up and lips slightly parted, tongue darting out to wet them slightly as you raised your hips, lining your own entrance with him, teasingly waiting, testing his patience.

which didn't last long, as his hands rested either side of your pliable flesh, his hips lurching upwards to bottom out in you in one swift moment, leaving the breath knocked from your lungs with next to no time to adjust, hips jerking in desperation, his grasp moving slightly to underneath your ass, to lever you easily against him, each thrust of his own partnered with his movement of you to meet him half way.

you let your hands rest on either side of arthur's shoulders, your head leaning to the crook of his neck, lips attaching to leave small hickeyed marks against him, hearing the longing sighs escape him as his movements only became more frenzied and needy.

"y-you just look too good on stage, couldn't help it," he panted out, and you could barely respond, the coil in your lower stomach tightened as you felt yourself barrelling towards your own finish embarrassingly quickly.

you couldn't help it, seeing arthur so clearly and wholeheartedly craving you just from watching you on stage made you so unbelieveably flattered, and well, horny.

"you look pretty good yourself," you murmured, hands reaching for his hair slightly, tugging on it in desperation, as his hands dug into the soft doughy flesh of your ass tighter, chest raising and falling quicker as he rutted into you quicker, watching his eyes roll back in his own head in pleasure, "fuck, arthur, 'm close,"

"me too, i-fuck-you look so good," he babbled out, jaw locked, his quickened pace making your head dizzy, a drunkenness feeling spreading across your body, your thighs shaking against his hips, barely holding yourself up, the all too familiar knot snapping, rolling your pelvis against him as you watched his face relax, eyes tightly shut as his thrusts ceased, watching the euphoria paint his face as you felt him release.

a brief moment passed, both of you sweat covered, catching breaths as you had let yourself go limp against arthur, and after a second you had to giggle slightly.

"never seen you that needy before," you teased slightly, and you heard a playful huff escape arthur.

"can't blame me when you bring me backstage," he grinned slightly. "you know i've always wanted to be your groupie."

#arthur frederick #arthur frederick x reader #arthur tv #arthurtv #arthurtv smut #arthur tv x reader #arthurtv x reader #arthur tv smut

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katsu2ji · 2 days ago

Text

hanta sero w/ pop princess gf!

a/n: you will have to pry sabrina carpenter's short n sweet album from my cold, dead hands and this is the result of that

YOUR BIGGEST FAN

if anyone tells you otherwise, they're lying to you because this man right here? oh you have him down BADDD

he's there at every single concert, whether it be front row or back stage

wears his "i <3 my gf" shirt with PRIDE!!

you wink at him in the crowd and he's giggling and kicking his feet falling to his knees JAKJBABJ

literally brags to all of your guys’ friends that he heard your album and songs first

SOOO many photos of you guys (mainly him, let’s be fr) looking at each other with lovesick expressions

especially on the red carpet—ohmygod you have this man wrapped around your finger it's insane (PLEASE someone tell me they see what i did there—)

speaking of such events!!!

you guys EAT UP the red carpet. every. time.

cause my god does that man look good in a suit.

and your outfits are ALWAYS on point omg!!!

literally you guys are trending on twitter after every single event because y'all are HOT HOT HOT

your hype man while you record!!! at first he was super nervous to be in there, because he didn't want to make you mess up or do something wrong

but now if he's free on the days you go into the studio TRUST he will be there!!!

jokes around that you should let him have adlibs or do backup vocals LMFAO (he's not expecting you to say yes...unless u wanna say yes...)

but in all seriousness: he might know nothing about music, but it's good to have him around when you get frustrated or upset while recording. he helps to remind you that things don't have to be so serious and, at the end of the day, it will come together!!!

now, when you post pictures of yourself, whether they be from official shoots or pics you took yourself, that man is a FIEND.

all up in your comments like "AWOOGA" and "u got a bf??" and "HOTTT" LMFAO HES A MESS

i'm talking comment spamming, story reposts, the whole nine yards

does not gaf if people see him drooling over you!!!! he proudly let's everyone see how obsessed with u he is HE DOES NOT GAF!!!!

he has perfected taking ur pics—he knows all the angles you like, the lighting, everything

he's on the ground fully laying down just to make sure he's getting the perfect angle for you JKASKDFJ

tbh y'all are just the cutest couple ever <33 everyone is either obsessed with you guys or they're mad cause they aren't LOL LOSERS!!!!

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forlorn-crows · 1 day ago

Note

Hi, so I had a thought bumping around my head about rain or dew, I'm not picky and I can see either of them doing this, sending mountain a picture of them mid orgasm because why wouldn't they torture him like that? What mountain does about that is up to you

😘

you know that gifset going around of dew's little chest heaving when he breathes really hard on stage? yeah, i think he would use that to his advantage >:)

Steam follows his feet from the bathroom, trailing across the old tile and wisping across the hall. Mountain sighs as he returns to his room. He steps directly into a warm patch of setting sun, and he stretches like a lazy, contented cat. His bed sings its siren call to him, drawing his loose, tired body into its freshly-washed blanketed clutches.

The earth ghoul lets out an oof as he hits the mattress, groaning with delight at its comfort. Somehow, it feels the most comfortable after a long day of manual labor. He’s starfished out, eyes closed, for no more than thirty seconds before his phone buzzes on his bedside table.

Mountain grumbles. Blindly reaches for his phone and brings it to his face. Two notifications from Dew fill the screen.

fire lily: video file [118MB]

fire lily: drop something big guy? 😏

Mountain squints at the screen. Huh? He unlocks the phone and taps on the Messages icon, pulling up Dew’s contact. Brain power at close to zero for the day, he clicks Play on the video without really looking at it.

The video opens on Dew’s face, flushed and screwed up in pleasure. Sweat beaded on his forehead. The corner of Mountain’s shirt, the one he chopped wood and raked leaves in all day, is tucked between Dew’s teeth, and the wet schlick schlick sound of his cock being jacked sounds off-screen. Holding the phone in one hand while masturbating with the other.

“Fuck, you—” Mountain pauses the video and drops it, eyes as wide as saucers. He furrows his brow, craning his neck to look at the pile of dirty clothes he had deposited at the door. Huh. Indeed, his shirt was missing from it. Where would he have dropped it and not noticed? Did Dew actually come into his room while he was showering and steal it? Lucifer, how long was he in the shower? Or did he just—

His face snaps back to the phone, now semi-dimmed but still paused on Dew’s half-smug, half-pleasured face. Mountain’s brain goes fuzzy, already tingling down south. He rewinds the first few seconds and presses play once more.

Video Dew repeats his smirk, top fangs showing over the fabric of Mountain’s shirt. His eyes blow wide with mischief and desire as his hand flies over his cock.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he grits through his teeth. He’s panting, little chest heaving and shoulders lifting with each breath like they do when he gets overwhelmed, close to cumming. “Couldn’t help it.”

Mountain throbs hard against the mattress as he watches Dew’s eyes flutter, unfocusing for a moment before returning to look at the camera with a hitched moan. The sound of his hand on his cock grows more frantic, his other hand getting shaky as he works to keep his face centered in the frame. Dew’s eyebrows twitch upwards. A little nn-hn sound soaks into the t-shirt.

“Oh,” the earth ghoul breathes. His jaw stays dropped, and the hand not holding his phone unconsciously grabs at the sheets.

The sleeve of Mountain’s shirt, damp with saliva, slips from Dew’s mouth. Fabric disappearing completely off screen. He cranes his neck a little to look down at himself, and Mountain can hear the shwish of fabric being rearranged, shuffled about. “S-seven hells,” he keens, head falling right back down. There’s no more sounds of a hand sliding over pre-cum-dampened skin, but the motion of Dew’s arm remains unchanged, signaling to Mountain that he’s bunched up his dirty shirt to hump against as he winds the band of his pleasure tighter and tighter.

Dew’s breathing grows quicker, more ragged, filled with little uh uh’s as his eyes fight to stay open. A line of drool dribbles from Mountain’s mouth unnoticed, hitting the back of his hand as he watches Dew’s face open, growing lax as his eyes roll back with a long, low groan. The video blurs as Dew presumably hits Stop and flings his phone away, depriving Mountain from watching him finish.

“H-oh, Belial.” Blood rushes to Mountain’s dick so fast that he doesn’t even have the option to get up and do anything about his secondhand ruined orgasm. Though the fire ghoul resides a mere twenty steps down the hall, Mountain shoves his pants down and props his phone against the pillow, humping at the bed as if Dew were beneath him.

All he can do is groan into his own arm when he soils his fresh bedding with a load far bigger than it should be.

#the band ghost #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #nameless ghoul fanfic #the band ghost fanfic #mountain/dew #dew/mountain #mountaindew #crow writes #crow caws #anon #cw: scent kink #does that need one? idk. forgot it was essentially that lmao

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 days ago

Text

Mystery of love

Previously / next chapter

a/n I was not gonna write anymore of this but some of you wanted to read more and fuck do I miss them myself. I will probably go and make a proper series masterlist so it would be easier to navigate through the chapters. Happy reading!🫧

summary: when two lost souls meet at their mutual friend’s party sparks fly, the question is if whatever they feel can actually bloom into something more? But that’s the mystery of love.

warning: toxic ex, arguments

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was one of your college friends' engagement party. As a good friend you were supposed to celebrate her but all you could think of was Noah. The boy with tattoos had managed to slot into your consciousness, taking up a daily spot there. You had stayed up for quite a couple of nights thinking about that almost kiss. About the fact that you had wanted it to happen. Had felt disappointed that it didn’t.

It scrambled with your brain. You had tried to avoid Noah as much as you could but he was relentless. Every day at six sharp he would be parked outside the bookstore waiting for you. “Go away Noah, there’s an Uber on its way to pick me up”, you grunted, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck. “Yes, ma’am that would be me”, he saluted from his car, waving you over. “Don’t you have a job? Anything else to do?”, rolling your eyes you stepped closer. “Oh, I do, one of them is a part-time driver”, he smirked leaning over to open the car door for you.

You always gave in. Blaming his sad and tired eyes. Fearing that your no or a firmer push would send him tumbling down a hill. At least that’s what you told yourself. You weren’t ready to admit that you felt better yourself with him. It all felt better when Noah was around. And while you craved that safety blanket he provided without realizing it, your brain screamed at you for wanting to depend on his comfort.

“Sooo, how are things?”, Emmy pushed a drink over the bar your way, snapping you out of your train of thought. “Things?”, you asked, frowning. She gave you one of those looks before rolling her eyes, “Oh stop it, YN, you can’t fool me, girlie”. Her and Matt. Cause if she wasn’t there to see you and Noah, then Matt happily did a daily report for her. “Are you still going on a trip with Matt?”, you asked, changing the subject. It was a cheap move, but you didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it made it real. “You’re changing the subject”, Emmy chirped, “that means I’m right”, she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

You scowled at her, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Fine”, you lifted your hands in surrender, “We hung out a couple of times”. You hoped that would cut it but she just looked at you waiting. “And”, she motioned for you to continue. “And nothing, that’s it”, you shrugged. But it wasn’t nothing and deep down you knew it. It had been weird ever since the near kiss you two shared. You had made a big deal out of it. Not to mention that meeting your ex was also the cherry on top. Ex who no doubt had googled who Noah was from the relentless amount of messages he had sent. The times he had come over knocking.

“He’s a sweet guy. I would say pretty distant but he’s a good guy”, Emmy mussed, “We don’t know each other that well, I don’t want to impose but he’s been nothing but kind to me”, she swirled her drink looking at you. “Your judgment is much appreciated”, you tapped her hand in fake appreciation making her push you back slightly as she grunted. A light smile slipped onto your face. Falling immediately when your eyes caught a glimpse of the upper stage. As cold sweat chilled your body. “What’s wrong”, Emmy asked turning back. “Like a fucking rock at the bottom of my shoe”, you grumbled l, turning away in hopes that luck was on your side this time. “I’ll claw his face out”, your best friend pushed the bar stool back, ready to charge over but you clasped her upper arm, “Em, don’t you fucking get close to him, he’s unstable”.

More often than not Noah found himself thinking about the little things you two had done together. It played in a loop in his mind. At night when he couldn’t sleep he would go back, trying to ground himself in the moments he spent with you. Even now, he was supposed to listen to Jolly, which had proven to be harder lately. They were trying to put the cancellation dates in motion. But he had zoned out completely. Feeling the bone-rattling tiredness wash over him.

Dragging himself back to the little coffee not date you two had the other week. “Soo, this place make all the syrups at the house”, you had been referring to a family-owned coffee shop downtown for some time now. The destination was not comfortably reachable after work. Meaning that it would be more of a burden and time waste to go there in rush hours. So you rarely went there. But now Noah was glad that he had chosen to sit in traffic for an hour. The look on your face made it worth it.

You had practically jumped out of the car, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through Noah’s and while you didn’t seem to notice, Noah felt as if his whole body was on fire. It felt so right that he could sit down and cry. So he only gripped your hand tighter. “What do you want?”, you looked up at the menu, eyes scanning all the possibilities. But Noah was looking at you, “You pick”, he muttered. “No, Noah…”, you grunted, glancing at him, “Pick, I don’t know what you like, maybe you have allergies or some shit”. But he simply shrugged, before muttering a quick, “I trust you”.

You grunted, shaking your head before smiling at the lady waiting to take your order, “Hey, can I do one cold brew with wiped creme brûlée foam on top and one with your brown sugar almond glaze. Plant-based milk for both. That would be all thank you”, you smiled at her, turning to reach for your purse only to find Noah already paying. “Noah”, you grunted, “That’s…”, but he just chuckled pressing his lips to your temple.

“Okay, tell me what you think”, you two had found a nice table outside, the autumn sun warming your cheeks. Your legs were draped over his thighs, his fingers drawing shapes on your legs as you handed him one drink after the other.

“This one is nice”, Noah tapped at the cup in your hands, “Creme brûlée?”, you raised your eyebrows, taking a sip yourself. “it’s really good, I like them both though”, he hummed in approval. The funny thing was that he couldn’t give two shits for coffee but it seemed like whatever you liked he couldn’t help but enjoy as well. “Well now you know a nice spot for drinks”, you smiled at him, tilting your face towards the sun.

“I’ll know where to get you coffee from”, he corrected you, chuckling when you threw him a death glare he had already learned to love. “Absolutely not”, you protected. “Absolutely yes”, Noah nodded, biting his lip as he watched you. “Noah”, you grunted in warning but he simply shrugged, “I like it when you say my name”, you gasped, pushing his shoulder slightly, “Oh fuck off, you flirt”.

He was smiling to himself when his phone buzzed. Out of second nature, he turned his screen over. Only to tap his screen twice again.

Y/n 🤍: You’re busy?

Y/n 🤍: Sorry, hey

Y/n 🤍: Are you busy?

Noah: Everything’s okay?

He typed out, moving to sit up immediately. A frown creeping onto his face. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his guts.

Y/n 🤍: Can you ask Matt to check his phone.

“Matt”, Noah called out immediately, “Check your phone, dude”. He was up and walking towards the soundproofed booth. Fingers moving over the keyboard.

Noah: What’s going on Yn?

He watched the little three dots pending before disappearing. “Fuck”, Matt grunted, pulling his headset off. “What’s going on?”, Noah leaned against the door, watching his friend scrambling for his things. Matt halted for a moment as if calculating his next words. They never left a meeting unless something absolutely important happened. If Matt was up and ready to go that meant that Noah’s gut feeling was right.

“Yn ex is at the bar they are in”, nine words were enough to make Noah’s brain both shut down and restart again. He turned himself, reaching for his stuff before turning back, “I’m going with you”. “Noah”, Matt shook his head in disapproval. “I’ve met the dick already, let’s go”, Noah motioned for Matt to go to the doors. “Do you maybe want to enlighten us too?”, Jolly called out, arms crossed over his chest. “Man this is some serious shit”, Matt shook his head. This all could get real messy, Noah was more than aware of it. “We’ll talk about it, give me time”, Noah promised before, walking out the studio door.

“I’m not going anywhere with you”, you pulled at Dan’s hand firmly. Trying to get away from him after having to take the heated conversation outside. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene. “Stop fucking fighting”, he gripped tightly, pulling your arm further up, making you wince in pain. “Let go you asshole”, Emmy huffed, throwing her heel at him. Hitting him square in his head. You would have laughed honestly if it wasn’t the fact that his grip only got firmer.

“Back off bitch”, he snarled at Emmy, stepping forward to spook her. “Em”, a voice sounded behind you, you watched as Emmy nearly sagged in relief against the damp brick wall, “Matty”, she called out and even your body washed over with relief. One that was short-lived as Dan’s hand wrapped around your middle pushing you forward, “Come here”, he mused against your ear making your body shiver in disgust.

“Man let her go or I won’t be responsible for my next move”, you felt like crying in that moment when realization finally hit you. Matt didn’t come alone. “Noah…”, you whispered, turning your head to see his angry face. You weren’t sure if you felt happy or embarrassed then. You didn’t want him to see this. Didn’t want him to know about your past poor choices.

“We got back together man, so mind your business”, Dan cupped the side of your face, pressing his lips to your cheek. Your palm found his face then pushed him further back, as you grunted, “We did not”. “Let go or I will break your hand”, Noah stepped closer, he was way taller than Dan. Quite frankly all Dan had was a fancy suit and sparkly watch to hide behind. “Security is on its way Daniel”, Matt called out, Emmy standing behind his back, one of his hands making sure she stayed exactly there, “Your choice man. Walk away or ride in the back of a police car”.

Dan watched you all for a moment. And if not for the back doors creaking you knew that he wouldn’t have let go. “Fuck you”, he spat towards Matt, pushing you forward as he flipped you all off. “Not my first time with you, dick”, Matt threw back at him. Noah’s arms reached for you instantly but you caught his wrist, keeping his body away from yours. “I want to get out of here”, you muttered. “That’s what we will do”, Noah promised, trying to look you over. “I’ve got her”, Emmy muttered, wrapping her arm around your shoulders, and throwing Noah an apologetic look. He wanted to be the one to comfort you but he knew that there was a limit to how far you were willing to let him in and Noah had a feeling that two run-ins with your ex had maxed it out.

He watched you through the rearview mirror the whole way back to their house. Watch that cold mask of indifference slowly replace the genuine fear he had seen moments ago. So he wasn’t all that surprised when you had thrown Emmy a smile after stepping out of the car. “Come on, we’re sharing a room”, Emmy tugged at your hand but you instantly pulled back. “I’m going home, Em’s, you all go inside”, you muttered, squeezing your friend's hand. “Yn, they don’t mind. Tell her Matt”, she turned her pleading eyes on her boyfriend. “I said it more than once, YN, our place is your place”, Matt hummed in approval. Making Noah frown slightly. He had a feeling that Matt knew more. Had been involved in all of this somehow. The question was how deep it ran. “I appreciate it but I rather go home”, you smiled politely. “I’ll drive you back”, Noah cut in, “I was gonna pop into the city anyway”.

You wanted to protest but Emmy cut you off, “At least drive with Noah, I would be much calmer knowing that he dropped you off”, so you simply nodded. Not having enough energy to fight anyone on anything. “You don’t have plans in the city do you”, you asked glancing out of the window once Noah had started his car. “I don’t”, he admitted. You simply nodded at his answer, wrapping your arms around yourself.

And it had been fine. You had managed to keep it wrapped up till he offered to walk you up the stairs. Waiting for you to unlock your door as he leaned against the side wall. Your hand halted as you pushed the key through. It was one look at him. The look of concern in his eyes. It was the silence he left between you too. Not pushing to fill it in. Leaving it there as an option for you. A chance to speak up if you wanted to.

Your shoulders quivered as you clasped your hand over your mouth, trying to silence the sob that slipped past your lips. Noah pushed back from the wall instantly. Offering his hand but not pushing his embrace upon you. Giving you a chance to choose this. Choose him.

You turned to him. Arms reaching for his neck as you pushed your body against his. Feeling a tremble run through your chest. “I’m here”, Noah muttered, “Let it out”. His hands moved up and down your back, as he soothed you. “I’m so scared”, you crocked out, “He…”, you shook your head. Eyes burning from tears. “He’s a dead man walking”, Noah cupped your face, “He will not get to you, I won’t let him”, he nodded and you followed his action. “Stay”, you pleaded, holding onto his upper arms as you pressed your face against his chest. “I wasn’t going anywhere, love, might have napped outside your door if you hadn’t invited me in”, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, “Let’s get you inside. Marsh is probably demanding to be fed anyway”, taking the keys out of your hands Noah, unlocked them, pulling the door open before ushering you inside.

•••••••••••••

@broken0mens @supersquirrel1996

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian x you #noan bad omens imagine #noah bad omens x reader #bad omens x reader #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens imagine #bad omens x you

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seoul-bros · 11 hours ago

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Jikook Week 47 Complete (29/10-05/10/2024)

Their 47th week in the military is now complete and we celebrate with a look back at this week in 2017.

It was a very special week for Jimin and Jungkook marking their first trip together. They went to Tokyo between 28/10 and 31/10 on a trip that JK organised as a birthday present for Jimin, a trip that they are still talking about seven years later.

"We were walking down an alley, there weren't many cars, there was the light from the street lamps.... It was really beautiful. And then Jimin said that his feet hurt and so we walked slowly. These simple things were so fun" Jungkook, Real Love, Beyond the Story

"We went around wearing masks from the move Scream with black fabric covering our bodies, and black umbrellas. When people came over, we took picture, it was fun. We went around people watching, and when we went to the restaurant, we took off our masks and ate" Jungkook, Real Love, Beyond the Story

They wandered the streets, went shopping, ate good food and visited Disneyland before returning to Korea on the 31/10.

The first Golden Closet Film came out about a week later on 08/11 much to JK's delight as its talented creator and Jimin as its star.

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No one before or since has shown Jimin quite like JK does here. He is completely open, relaxed and joyful. He beams at JK behind the lens. This is what it must feel like to be in Jimin's inner circle and have his complete trust. It is a Jimin that we don't really see anymore, although perhaps, in Are You Sure? we caught glimpses of that guy.

On 31/10, Jimin posted this photo of them looking relaxed and happy with an emoji caption. The trip seems to have done them a lot of good and brought them even closer.

😊💐

The trip took place during a break in the Wings tour between the Taiwan concerts on the 21-22/10 and the Macau concert on 04/11. If you want to know how crazy this time was for them and how hard they were working nothing can demonstrate that more clearly than the Burn the Stage series and in this case Episode 8 which shows the October and November leg of the tour and its final concert in Seoul on 10th December 2017.

It is in this episode that Taehyung asks us to love all seven of the members of BTS which seems worth repeating at this moment.

Watching their 2017 selves talking about what they learnt about each other and about themselves during the Wings Tour made me nostalgic for a time when I wasn't even in the fandom and hopeful for the future that they deserve, pursuing the next steps of their musical journey together as a group. Just over seven months to go before that future can become a reality and all we need to do until then is hold it together, ensure we put out our share of positivity to balance the incessant toxicity of SM and TRUST IN BTS.

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Post Date: 05/11/2024

#jikook #jimin #jungkook #bts in 2017 #bts in the military #wings tour #GCF tokyo

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pjmmania · 1 day ago

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If Snow Decides to Fall

1. “I think we could do it, baby.”

Chapter Warnings: Heavy smut, fingering, dominant/submissive motifs, unprotected sex, explicit language, unplanned pregnancy

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was an enthralling tightness in your stomach as you knocked on the door to Jimin’s apartment. It was a Friday night in April, and you were right on time.

The door opened and there he was, clad in some comfy gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. His dark hair was parted at the middle, some pieces draping near his almond-shaped eyes. He’d been growing it out for the past few months, just to try something new.

The grin that met you was classic and unceasingly alluring, “Oh, it’s you.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes at the teasing, letting yourself in. You brushed past him, “I don’t have to stay long, if you were expecting someone else.”

The man shut the door behind you, licking his lips through a suppressed smile. This game you so often played together amused him - pretending that this affair was far more casual and meaningless than it was.

At first, you were just the new girl in the styling department that caught his eye. Over nearly a year, it evolved into something deeper. You went from a one-night stand, to friends with benefits, to something exclusive. Neither of you would define this stage of your relationship, but both of you were confident in one thing - you only had eyes for each other.

Jimin leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, "I'm not expecting anyone else."

You walked up to him, getting close enough for him to want to lose it. His hands dropped to your hips, "So you wouldn’t mind if I stay a while?"

You let your nose gently graze against his. His chuckle was low and handsome, "I was planning on it, baby."

A giggle escaped you as your lips met. Every time he kissed you, Jimin experienced some form of revival. Your affection had become something he couldn’t go long without, and the very same could be said for you.

His hands slid from your hips to your rear and gave it a small test squeeze. Almost reflexively, you pressed your lower half into him further. He was already semi-hard, but the contact solidified things down there.

Now both of you were hungrier for the thing you’d been anticipating all day. Your lips encased the other’s over and over again, as Jimin began to slowly lead you into his bedroom.

As you started this familiar dance across the vinyl floor of his apartment, you let out a soft moan. Jimin’s fingers traced along the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head, revealing a bra he hadn’t yet seen on you.

He smiled lustfully, eyes set on the red lacy piece, “Is this new?”

You threw your arms around his neck, aching to feel close to him again, “I might have gone shopping recently.”

The black-haired man kissed you once more, “Have you now?”

“I had to,” you smirked, “You’ve practically torn through my other ones. Lace is delicate, you know.”

Another laugh broke through Jimin’s lips. The next kiss was deep and passionate, stoking the fire. You were absorbing him through all of your senses, enthralled in every ounce of him. You had no idea how this was your real life. Park Jimin, adored by millions, wanted you.

You didn’t know it, but he felt the same. Out of all the people who threw themselves his way, he somehow managed to stumble upon you at the right place, at the right time. Jimin always theorized that the universe had already given him the lucky draw when it came to his career. That his luck had been spent on landing a place in the biggest band in the world. That’s why meeting you baffled him - how could he possibly have gotten more fortunate?

You pulled apart for a moment when you realized that you were standing at the base of his bed. Jimin took this brief instant to gaze into your eyes. They carried more than simple desire. His heart knew what they were spelling out, yet his brain couldn’t compute. And he couldn’t tell you that he desperately felt the same.

He kissed you softer this time. The sentimental nature of it told you how deeply he cared for you. That this was more than just a hook-up for him.

You let your forehead linger against his, “Jimin…”

His arms wrapped around your waist. He was in no hurry, simply enjoying feeling this close to you, “Y/N?”

But you had no idea what you wanted to say, so you made something up on the fly, “I…I didn’t bring a condom with me.”

He kissed your nose before pulling away completely, slightly confused as to why you’d say something like that. You never brought the protection with you when you came over. Heading over to his nightstand, he said, “Doesn’t matter. You know I always keep some here.”

He opened the top drawer of the small wooden table, paused for a second, and then began to rummage through it, “Huh…Well I thought I had some here.”

You felt let down but downplayed your disappointment, “Oh, okay. We don’t have to tonight, then.”

Closing the drawer, Jimin looked back at you with an optimistic, flirty expression, “Or, we could do other things.”

A smile lifted your features. You could have died whenever he looked at you like that - it turned you to mush. Quickly, his hands were on your cheeks as you were pulled into his lips. You moaned softly, feeling his erection still prominent against your femininity.

The making out became fervent again. Jimin sighed as he felt his cock throb, “I want to make you feel amazing, sweetheart.”

There it was. The nickname that absolutely melted away all resolve, and he knew it.

Wanton, you moaned again and let the current take you away, him being pleased by the effect he had on you. Your tongues played nicely together as he gently urged you backwards onto his bed.

Once on top of you, his swollen crotch pressed more firmly against you. He hummed at the tiny spark of pleasure it brought him, grinding his hips back and forth. You moaned as his lips attacked your neck and collarbone and pulled up his t-shirt. Jimin sat back on his heels for a second to whip it off, tossing it aside hastily so he could get back to you.

His lean muscular frame torso, bare and warm, felt like a comfort against you. You felt your face get hot when his kisses trailed down to the valley of your breasts. He always got so turned on by the feeling of your soft breasts on his cheeks.

As he enjoyed his time with your tits, he was mindful not to neglect your now aching core. Jimin’s right hand, the dominant one, drifted down your abdomen and snuck under the hem of your pants. You were in joggers, so he was given easy access. He was satisfied to be met with the feeling of rather thin lace panties.

Knowing that you preferred his fingers to his mouth, he played gently with your clothed clit by tracing over it in a circle. His touch was agonizingly light.

You moaned both with pleasure and frustration, “Why do you always do this?”

Jimin’s smug little grin set you ablaze, “Because you love it.”

You tilted your hips up to gain more friction from his fingers, whining at his truthful words.

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He continued to tease you, “You love feeling like putty in my hands, completely at my mercy. It’s alright to enjoy it.”

Helpless, you nodded, “Fine, I love it. Can you please just touch me?”

He had you right where he wanted you, and it didn’t take anything at all. You would have felt embarrassed, but you knew that soon enough it would be his turn.

Jimin pulled off your pants. Just as he was hoping, your panties matched your bra. You were a feast for his eyes to behold, laying there all hot and bothered in a red set. You were like a fantasy, face flushed and eyes pleading for more. The dim lighting in the room, combined with the moonlight peaking through, danced on your chest as it rose up and down with your breaths.

He then got off the bed momentarily to pull down his own pants, just to save time. He knew that by the end of pleasing you, he’d be dying for relief. His cock sprang free, bobbing up and down with a reddened tip. The sight of him fully naked never failed to impress you. His dancer body was slender yet powerful, trained into this shape by years of performing some of the hardest choreographies in his industry.

Jimin climbed back to you on the bed and slowly guided your panties down your legs.

The brush of his middle two fingers up your core made you gasp softly, eyelids fluttering shut. Feeling your tempting wetness sent a pulse through his member, “Hm…You’ve been waiting for this all day, haven’t you baby? Waiting for me to touch your pretty little clit?”

You agreed as he applied the right amount of pressure, rubbing you faster, “Y-Yes.”

He grinned, “I have too. Every Friday I can’t wait to leave the studio. It’s like clockwork. All I can think about is getting to fuck you.”

As if that gave him an idea, his next move was to insert those two fingers inside your heat, placing his thumb on your sensitive bud instead. He was assertively driving you insane from both places now. As his fingers moved in and out, his thumb skated over you with precision.

You moaned, coating his digits in slick fluids. The sounds produced made the lack of condoms all the more infuriating, filling him with an intense primal desire to take you hard. As the minutes went by, your sounds increased in frequency and volume.

“Jimin!” Your voice was unabashed, “Keep going, just like that.”

“You like this, baby?” He taunted, “Hm?”

You whimpered lewdly, “I’m so close.”

Your words fueled his drive to bring you over the edge. He couldn’t help but let out a low huff as he watched you be in the throes of pure rapture, but it wasn’t enough for him to shake off his teasing demeanor. You looked so beautiful like this, totally caved-in under his touch.

Right as that delicious pit was beginning to form deep in your gut, he pulled away entirely.

Face red and breath slightly labored, you asked, “Why did you stop?”

Jimin prevented you from voicing any more complaints by locking his lips with yours. Then he smiled, “Turn on your side for me, sweetheart.”

You smiled back, knowing exactly where he was going with this. It was one of your favorite positions. You followed his direction and soon felt his chest pressing against your back as he spooned you. His hand slid over your hip and found your clit once more.

You moaned again at the contact, angling yourself towards Jimin so that you could kiss him. This is why you loved this position - it felt so romantic.

His strokes quickened. Your breathing hitched as he began to kiss your neck, “Oh god, Jimin!”

You felt his cock eagerly touching you from behind. On the small of your back you could feel his warm precum, smearing as he instinctively pressed himself further to you with a soft grunt.

Thinking about his readiness accelerated your own pleasure. It was beginning to build now. You were so painfully close that your legs began to quiver.

You threw your head back into the crook of his neck, eyes screwing shut. Jimin’s voice was dangerously low, “That’s right. Cum for me, baby.”

With one last moan, your legs spasmed and you came undone. Jimin continued his motions until you were through. You were left panting now, body limp. Aftershocks washed over you as he explored the result of his efforts. Every tingle inflated his ego. You were so enticingly wet and warm.

You rotated onto your other side so you could face, sealing it all off with a kiss. He grinned into it at first, but his expression changed into one of longing once his cock was given direct contact with your wet folds.

You maneuvered your hips against him, wanting to elicit more of a response. Jimin released a small groan, “Fuck…”

Wantonly, you swung your leg over him and hoisted yourself up into a sitting position on his needy manhood. He licked his lips before pursing them together, gazing up at you with starving eyes.

Testing the waters, you glided your slick, warm cunt over his hardness. He let out another low grunt, gripping your ass roughly. It was taking every ounce of self control not to ram his cock up inside you. All it would take was one thrust, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

You repeated the action, but your movement was stopped by the strength of Jimin’s hold on you. His brows were furrowed together, eyes shut. He looked like he could explode, frustrated and deprived of what he wanted most.

Feeling is bare member against you was something that didn’t happen too often, at least not like this - when you were this soaked and he was dying to be inside you. It made you wonder if, just this once, you could do it anyway, without protection.

Your rational side told you it was too risky. You hadn’t been great with the pill as of late. In fact, you were so inconsistent with it that you had an appointment set to get an IUD in coming weeks.

But then you started to think with your privates.

You gave it a little bounce and moaned, your head falling back. It was torturing Jimin. He knew exactly what you were thinking and found that, much to his dismay, he wasn’t strong enough to put up much of a fight. This felt way too good.

“Y/N, we can’t,” he sighed, “I wish we could but we shouldn’t.”

“I…I know,” you said breathlessly, “It’s just so tempting.”

He chuckled and sat up, guiding your lips into his by holding your chin. You hummed into the kiss, wrapping your legs around him.

Jimin pulled away and tucked your hair behind your ear, “I think if I got to fuck you raw, I’d never want to wear a condom again. It’s a dangerous game.”

You adjusted yourself on his lap, causing both of you to moan again. He dipped his head down so we could kiss your breasts.

His voice was low, his eyes darkened, “Stop, baby.”

But there was something about his tone that told you he didn’t completely mean it. He was telling you to stop, while secretly and stupidly hoping that you wouldn’t. It only emboldened the side of you that wanted to break the rule.

“The chances of anything happening are low.” You said in a near whisper, leaving the door open for him to navigate away from this if he wanted to.

Instead, Jimin continued to love on your body, placing kisses on your collarbone and sternum, “Are they?”

You closed your eyes and enjoyed his adoration of you, “Yeah. My cycle is always regular, so I know when my fertile days are. Today isn’t one of them.”

“Is that so?” He planted his lips on your jawbone.

You hummed, “And you could pull out at the end, to be extra careful.”

Without warning, you were flipped onto your back. Your hair fanned out onto the pillow below as you looked up at a hovering Jimin, who was losing his reluctance. His cock was lined up dangerously close to your entrance, leaking with precum and begging for release.

“Fuck, I want to feel you so bad, sweetheart,” he said, “Would you let me?”

Too eagerly, you nodded and craned your neck up to kiss him. Now that you’d given the green light, he began to intentionally press his tip into you. Your head fell back on the pillow as his dropped to your sternum, both of you releasing sounds of pleasure.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex without a condom, but he was certain that it didn’t feel this amazing. The bottoming out was intense for you, so he gave you a few moments to adjust. You could feel so much more of him as opposed to the usual that it was jarring.

Jimin’s eyes screwed shut, “God, you feel incredible. Are you alright?”

You nodded, “I’m okay. Please, move."

He pulled out halfway before giving you a slow yet deep thrust. The breath he let out was jagged and husky. Without a condom masking some of the sensations, he was now able to feel every bit of you. You were so tight, so lubricated and hot.

Settling into a steady rhythm, your moans picked up. He was delivering wave after wave of gratification, "Oh my god...F-Faster, Jimin."

His pace picked up and he threw his head back, "Fuck, baby."

He wasn't holding back anymore. Soon enough he was pistoning into you, letting out unadulterated grunts every few thrusts. He pinned your legs back against your chest, giving him an even deeper access. The tip of his cock was prodding against your cervix. It felt so right this way, especially when he looked directly into your eyes. You were so vulnerable to him, yet completely cared for.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a long kiss, both of you moaning into it. Jimin took a break, feeling his orgasm pending.

"I need," he panted in between kisses, "I need to change positions or I won't last long, sweetheart. I already feel like I could cum any moment."

You giggled a little through your pleasure and rubbed the nape of his neck, "You can have me any way you want me. I just want you to feel good."

"Mm," He kissed you again before pulling out of you, "And I want you to cum on my cock."

You were flipped over again, this time onto all fours.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?" He entered you again, hands cupping your hips perfectly. You were dripping at this point, so he was able to slide in effortlessly. The patting sound of his v-line hitting your ass was almost pornographic, joining the chorus of your heavy breaths and groans.

He slapped your ass, "Answer me."

You loved this filthy side to him. A whimper was your response, "Yes, yes I'm gonna cum!"

It was no exaggeration - his strokes were hitting the right spot without fail. You could only take so much more before you let loose for the second time.

Your vulgar tone sent him into overdrive, battering your pussy in a way you'd only experienced a handful of times before with him.

You practically mewled, "Ah! Jimin, I'm cumming!"

Your walls clenched around him as you released again. His jaw slacked as he moaned at the increased tightness, "Yeah, baby. Fucking cum around my cock. Show me how much you want my load."

Coming down from your high took longer than before, as he kept fucking you unrelentingly.

“Gonna cum soon, sweetheart.”

Jimin’s eyes were screwed shut, his brows cinched inward. His lips parted as he slipped totally past the point of no return.

You were delirious in your afterglow, almost drunk on the sensation of being mounted by him. You bent down and let your cheek rest on the pillow, ass still up.

“J-Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Do it inside me.”

He threw his head back and let out what sounded like half moan, half chuckle. You could hear by his tone that he was smirking, “You’re a little daredevil, you know that? Fuck, say it again.”

Your voice shaky from being rocked back and forth so hard, you repeated it, “Cum inside me, Jimin.”

He was so turned on by the phrase. It unlocked some deeply rooted desire that existed within every man. His fingertips were digging into your hips, “God yes, I’m cumming!”

A low growl came out of him at the same time as his seed. His hips slammed into you a final time, the tip of his cock pressed firmly against your womb. Spurts of cum rushed into you, coating your walls.

Jimin gave a few gentle thrusts as he rode out the high, breathing heavily. He then stilled, lingering for another moment. You hummed in satisfaction when he finally pulled out.

He sighed with a grin on his face as he reached over to the nightstand to get a tissue. For whatever reason, he liked to take care of you after sex, taking it upon himself to wipe you clean and make sure you were comfortable.

He wiped away whatever came dripping out of your pussy, threw the tissue in a wastebasket, and then collapsed beside you. He was on his back, while you were your side facing him. Jimin’s tired smile was mirrored by yours.

He rotated onto his side too, “That was amazing.”

"It was." You whispered.

Your hand was limp on the sheets between the two of you. He took it within his and brought it up to his lips, kissing your knuckle. Your heart ached for him in intimate moments like this, both of you naked and completely comfortable in each other's presence. You got lost in his eyes, and he in yours. His expressive ones carried a more doe-like quality now as they drank you in. Countless instances like it were what made you both realize that your relationship was more than just sex.

But what was it called, exactly? The lack of a label was useful, at first. Jimin could escape the commitment of having a girlfriend, and you could keep your job. The company had strict rules about artists' dating lives, but it also outright forbade relationships between co-workers. If they knew about this, you'd be terminated immediately.

However, behind closed doors, it was getting harder to accept the state of your relationship. It was more bountiful than either of you expected, but now you were secretly beginning to wonder if this was all it ever could be.

You spent the night at Jimin's place, as usual. You kept a toothbrush and some of your own toiletries there. You even had some of your clothes there - a couple of pairs of socks, some sneakers, and comfy clothes. Just your typical Saturday gear, for when you inevitably had to leave in the morning and act like it never happened.

*5 weeks later*

Another Friday afternoon. You were still at work, going over the styling concepts for the guys' upcoming album. You were drowning in fabric swatches, trying to piece together seven main looks that would mesh with each other nicely while expressing the music's overall feel.

You'd been locked in your office all day doing this, only letting the world know you were alive when you had to use the restroom or refill your water bottle. It was no wonder that you lost track of time, not knowing how late it was.

Your colleague and friend, a fellow stylist named Chaeyoung, opened your door and ducked her head inside, "Uh, you know it's four o'clock, right? Don't you have that doctor's appointment?"

You looked at her with wide eyes and dropped everything, eyes then darting to the clock, "Shit, I didn't realize."

It was the day you were scheduled to get your new form of birth control, the IUD. Your gynecologist was a fifteen-minute drive and your appointment was at four-twenty, meaning you had to hurry.

You grabbed your jacket and shoved some things into your work bag hastily - laptop, phone charger, and the binder with all the swatches in it.

You hated to leave in such a hurry, but you rushed past your coworker, "Thanks, Chae. I'll see you Monday."

The sound of her amusement behind you was evident, but you had no time to stick around. As you left the Styling Department, you muttered goodbyes to your other colleagues, who were all starting to wrap up their business for the week.

The door to the department let out into a wide hallway. The only other department on this floor was Marketing - the rest of the doors were conference rooms, restrooms, etcetera. One of them was a stairwell. You were on the third floor of the building, and at the speed you were going, taking the stairs would likely get you to your car faster than the elevator.

The clacking of your pumps echoed in the stairwell as you focused on trying not to break an ankle, your free hand grazing the top of the rail.

You hustled until you reached the door that would open to the parking garage, which was beneath the building. As you reached for the push handle, the door swung open towards you.

Startled, you maneuvered out of the way in the nick of time, to avoid getting hit in the face. To your surprise, it was none other than Jimin and Jungkook.

You'd gotten fairly acquainted with all of the members of BTS since starting at the company, enough that being in their company was no longer awkward. So, when you were suddenly confronted with the youngest member, you weren't perturbed. Both of them were warm with you, greeting you with kind smiles and apologizing for almost running into you.

Jimin, in addition to being happy to see you, also took notice of how hurried you seemed - bag and jacket strewn carelessly over on one elbow, breath a little weary from running down the stairs.

He raised his brows, "Where are you off to?"

You turned a little pink. If it was just Jimin, you might have been fine, but there was no way you could omit the truth in front of Jungkook.

"Just a doctor's appointment." You blurted.

Well, it wasn't necessarily a lie.

You couldn't sneak anything past Jimin at this point. He could read your expressions effortlessly. Clearly, you were a little frazzled, but his gut told him to let it go for now, for your sake.

Wanting to appear casual, you asked, "How about you guys?"

The younger replied with a pat on his brother's back, "Just coming back from a photoshoot."

You nodded silently. Trying to save you from speculation on the part of Jungkook, Jimin made sure there was nothing on his face that could make him suspicious, "We'll get out of your way, then."

You nodded politely and smiled at them again, "Thanks, sorry guys. H-Have a good weekend!"

They cleared the way for you to move forward, and you did. The door closed behind you as you headed into the garage, digging for your keys.

The two men resumed their walk up the stairs. They were going to the second floor to grab a few things before heading to the eighth for a brief recording session.

Jungkook glanced behind him for a second and then caught up to Jimin, "Jeez, that was weird. And you didn't ask if she was coming over tonight. Everything alright between you two?"

His question came from a good place, but it made the other look all around them to ensure their privacy. He then shook his head and chided the younger in a sharp whisper, "Keep your voice down!"

They proceeded to climb the stairs. Jungkook took it down a notch and whispered in response, "Sorry...But is everything okay?"

Jimin sighed. This really wasn't the time or place for this, "Yes, we're the same as always. And I didn't ask her if she was coming over because it's pretty much a given at this point."

A chuckle came from the heavily-tattooed man, "Must be nice, guaranteed sex every week."

"Shut up," Jimin hissed again, "It's not like that. We do other things too."

"I know, I'm just teasing. Relax," Junkook smirked, "And you're still exclusive, right?"

Now the older was becoming frustrated, "Yes, we are. Your point, please?"

Jungkook's bunny smile appeared as he enjoyed getting a small rise out of him, "Nothing, nothing. It's just, some might call that-"

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door above opening and closing. Jimin counted his lucky stars.

"Alright, Y/N," your gynecologist, Doctor Baek, sighed contently as she sat down on a cushioned stool beside the examination table, "I just need to go over a few details again with you before we move forward with the procedure."

You were sitting on the table in a blue gown, ready to get this over with, "Sure."

She went over the things you discussed during your initial consultation for this, just to ensure all of the information was the same. Coming down to the end of the list, she said, "Okay, you experience no chronic headaches or dizzy spells, correct?"

It was correct, although you had one minor dizzy spell earlier in the week. But it was only one, so it couldn't be significant, "Yes."

"Great. And lastly, there's no possibility you could be pregnant, correct?"

You bit your lip, not knowing how to answer that. As annoying as it was, you figured you should err on the side of caution, "I don't believe so, but I did have unprotected sex about a month ago."

Doctor Baek, a kind woman and a true professional, nodded without any sign of judgement, “Any symptoms, like nausea or breast tenderness?”

“My breasts have been tender, but that always happens around my period,” you said little nervously, “But I think got my period last week.”

Doctor Baek seemed confused, “You aren’t sure? I thought your periods were pretty regular.”

“W-Well, they are,” you weren’t sure if you were trying to assure her or yourself, “But it was lighter than normal.”

The doctor hummed, and wheeled over to the little desk in with a computer on it, “I see.”

She logged into the system and began typing away. You swung your feet around each other, beginning to feel a bit anxious, hands folded in your lap.

“I’m ordering a pregnancy test for you, just to rule it out,” she said, making a few clicks on the desktop before swiveling back to you, “It will be a urine test, so we will have the results in a few short minutes. If you’re not pregnant, we will proceed with the implantation, okay?”

Doctor Baek got up to retrieve the test she ordered from the lab. A storm of bewilderment and nerves brewed within you as you nodded along, trying to sell yourself as composed. Meanwhile, you were wracking your brain for any other signs you could have missed. How could these even be possible given your very regular cycle. It was never off. Yes, you and Jimin made a dumb decision in one moment of passion, but you knew it wouldn’t have been possible on that day.

Could the one and only time you had unprotected intercourse, have occurred at the one and only time your cycle was off?

As the panic swirled, you started mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.

A few minutes, the doctor came back with the test in her hand. It looked like anything you could have found at a drug store, plus a cup. For sanitation reasons, you were asked to take the cup into the bathroom and pee into it. From there, Doctor Baek gloved her hands and dipped the stick test into the cup. She then put a lid onto the used cup and sealed it in a biohazard bag for disposal.

Sensing your nerves, your kindhearted care provider set the test aside to do its work, “We’ll give it a few minutes. Try not to worry.”

You nodded silently, but it was all over your face.

Doctor Baek scooted the stool closer to you and patted your knee, smiling at you emphatically, “Don’t let your thoughts spiral just yet, Y/N. Take it one second at a time.”

She was right, you thought. You were getting worked up over nothing. The likelihood was small, and so was the reason to brood. You were able to settle yourself for the remaining minutes, which went by in a flash.

Then your bubble burst.

Doctor Baek went to pick up the test, "Well, you won't be getting the IUD today, I'm afraid."

Your gut fell as you shook your head, "B-But what about the bleeding? I had a period last week, right?”

"Light bleeding is actually an early sign of pregnancy."

The rest of your appointment was fuzzy. You could barely comprehend what she was saying to you, overcome with a harsh squeezing feeling in your stomach. You had Park Jimin's child growing inside you. You might have been upset, but how could you have been? Both of you made a conscious, risky decision that night, and this was the consequence.

The dominant emotion sending you into a freeze response was helplessness. The father of this baby was an international celebrity with so little bandwidth for normal human relationships, let alone parenthood. Would he even want to do this with you, or would he cut ties? Your relationship was a secret to all but a handful of people - nobody would have to know. He could leave you without a trace, and maybe that would be best. After all, if anyone found out that you two had been involved, you would lose your job.

"Y/N," Doctor Baek got your attention again, "Remember, one second at a time. I can see that this is a shock for you."

"Yes, it is." You replied distantly.

"May I ask if the father is known or supportive?"

You closed your eyes and angled your chin downward, letting out a breath through your nose.

The doctor felt for you, "It's going to be alright. Why don't we send you home with some informational pamphlets about different resources? Take a few days to think about the options. If you decide to move forward with the pregnancy, I'd like to book you for an ultrasound within the next few weeks to get the due date and make sure things look healthy."

"O-Okay."

You got dressed back into your work clothes, feeling like a completely different person wearing them. On your way out, you were given the pamphlets. Then, you started a dazed walk back to your car.

You drove away from the medical campus without a sense of direction. You simply let habit take over, and it took you to the same place you wound up every Friday night.

Not knowing if he'd even be home, you parked in the guest lot and went in anyway. You used the spare key card he'd given you to make it into his building and took the elevator up to the apartment.

One thing you appreciated about this living community was that it was extremely private. There were other idols and otherwise confidential people living there who minded their own business.

Once you reached the right floor, you felt a huge knot tie around your ribcage, suffocating you. It was as if you didn't notice where your feet were taking you - it was just second nature. But now here you were, at the door of Jimin's place.

You had to at least tell him.

Taking a breath, you summoned enough courage to knock on the door. No response. You tried again and, almost to your regret, it opened.

Jimin seemed glad yet confused to see you, taking his earbuds out of his ears, "Sorry, I didn't hear you at first. Come in."

The cheeky, handsome smile he was wearing would have melted you on any other day, but you couldn't entertain it right now. He noticed the frozen look on your face - you didn't even greet him back as you went through the doorframe. Jimin closed the door and turned to you, but you weren't facing him. Instead, you were roaming into the living room.

"Y/N? What's up with you?" he asked, "You seem lost."

You dropped your work bag onto the floor and plopped down onto one of the sofas, staring ahead with disorientation written all over your face. Subconsciously, you kicked off your heels.

Then he remembered that you had just been to the doctor, and his concern elevated, "Did everything go alright at your appointment?"

You closed your eyes and shook your head, gulping. When you finally met his gaze, you were holding back tears, "I went to see my gynecologist today to get an IUD put in."

He nodded and sat next to you, making sure that his body was facing yours head-on. Somewhere in his brain was a faint memory of you talking to him about that before, that you wanted to stop the pill and switch to something else, "Okay...So what's wrong? Oh, is it the cramping? I've heard that the procedure can cause bad cramps for a few hours after."

"It can," you said, "But that's not what's happening. In fact, they didn't even do the procedure."

You knew you were leaving him in suspense, but it wasn't intentional. You simply couldn't get the words out, for the fear of upending everything.

Jimin craned his neck forward in an attempt to follow your averting eyes, "Why?"

A tear rolled down your cheek, "Because they couldn't, Jimin. Before going through with it, I was asked all these questions. A-And I answered them all truthfully. I told the doctor that there had been recent unprotected sex and she tested me. And..."

It was so far outside the realm of what he could have foreseen that he didn't get it, "And?"

You didn't say anything, but you looked back at his face. He could see your glistening, tear-filled eyes, and that's when the seed was planted.

His dark brown eyes widened as he realized what you were implying, but he didn't want to believe it, "Y/N, you're not..."

A small sob escaped you as your posture shrunk, "I am."

Now Jimin was the one that was frozen, lips parted slightly. This lasted for a few seconds before he got up from the sofa, running his hands over his face and back through his hair. His back was to you and you heard him mutter a cuss word or two.

When he turned back around, his features weren't quite as soft. He appeared disappointed, maybe even aggravated, "How could this happen? It was just that one time, and you said it couldn't happen that day."

You felt so small, "I-I don't know. I really thought it wasn't possible but evidently, I was wrong. I'm sorry."

He put a hand over his eyes again and let out an anxious huff. Then his hand slid down to his nose, pinching its bridge. The brows that sat above were furrowed, "It doesn't matter anyway. It's not like this is all on you. We both should have known better."

You cleared your throat and wiped away your tears. This had to be an adult conversation, "So what should we do?"

"I don't know," he said, "What do you want to do?"

As emotionally spent as you were, you still had room to protest, "If this isn't all on me, then please don't make this entirely my decision. I can't handle that kind of pressure right now. This is my body, but it's our...our child."

Our child.

Those two simple words struck a cord somewhere inside Jimin. He felt them deep down. It wasn't at all what he planned, and he had no idea how it would work, but maybe it would be alright.

Jimin returned to your side. He brought you into his arms and you accepted the comfort. His lips planted a kiss on your head, "If it's what you want, I'll be there for you. I think we could do it, baby."

You pulled apart from him, "W-What?"

He cupped your cheeks gently and offered a small smile, "Maybe I'm just exhausted from today's work and I'm not thinking straight, but I feel like we could do it. Don't you? I have more than enough resources, and I've built enough rapport with the company that I'm sure I could take off more days."

You were shaking your head, removing his hands from your face and holding them in your lap, "Jimin, think about it. Having a baby doesn't just require money and time. I mean, think about what it would do to your career as a whole, your entire future. Besides, it would mean you and I would be involved with each other forever. We haven't even figured out what we are yet."

"I think we've figured out that we are something pretty damn good," he leaned down to kiss both of your hands, holding your wrists with a loose grip, "Y/N, I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. All I'm saying is I believe that this, our relationship, is strong enough. I'm terrified too, but when I think about doing it with you, it just makes a little more sense."

You got up and began to pace, "I appreciate that you're trying to be optimistic, but there are real obstacles here. You can't have a secret relationship and a secret child. If we do this, we have to tell the company at some point. I mean, I guess I could lie about who the father is for as long as I can, but what would happen after the baby gets here? Would we keep up the act even then?"

Jimin sat with his elbows propped on his knees and thought about it for a moment, "I understand why you're worried, but I still think we can figure it out. There are lots of celebrities nowadays who don't disclose publicly about their children until after they're born. That gives us plenty of time to plan out an announcement of some sort with the company."

"And even if we did that," you let out a defeated sigh, "I would get fired."

His face fell. That policy never seemed so vapid. He knew how much you loved your job, and how good you were at it, "Maybe there's a loophole somewhere. Or maybe I could persuade them against that."

You sort of laughed at the insanity of it all, "If we were both idols maybe they'd be more willing to bend the rules. They wouldn't denigrate the standard for just another employee, and I have a feeling they'd be pissed. This isn't just an employee dating another employee, Jimin. It's one of their biggest stars with a stylist. That carries scandal with it, especially when you add a pregnancy."

Both of you were silent now. The full weight of the circumstances sank down into your bodies. Jimin rose from his seat, "I need some water. Would you like anything?"

You shrugged, "Water would be good."

As he took his leave to head into the kitchen, you huffed and removed your jacket. Hanging it over the back of his chaise lounge, you glanced at your work tote. Visible from the opening was the tip of one of those pamphlets Doctor Baek gave you.

Lazily, you went and sat back down at your original spot on the sofa, picking up the paper tri-fold between your fingers. It was a general overview of the stages of fetal development, week by week. Opening it, you searched for the five-week mark. It said that at this time, the fetus was just starting to develop a face, heart, brain, and spinal cord.

It was wild to you that your body had been at work all that time without you knowing, slowly building a new person.

You scanned the rest of the pamphlet quickly. If you read it all, you'd be overwhelmed by all the information. On the back cover, there was a photo of a happy couple, both with their hands resting on the woman's belly. When you imagined that being you and Jimin, your heart fluttered. If only neither of you had these careers, you would probably want to go for it.

That's when you started to feel contradicted. You realized you weren't opposed to having a child with this man - your conflict was with outside influences that neither of you could control.

Jimin returned with two glasses of water. His gait slowed when he noticed that you were preoccupied with reading, curious to know what the paper in your hand was.

"Thanks." You said as you took one of the glasses.

"Of course," he replied, though his focus was clearly on the pamphlet, "What's that?"

You gave it to him, "The doctor gave it to me. Just some little thing about pregnancy."

"Ah." He muttered, taking a sip of his water. You scooted over so he could sit next to you again. Then he set the glass down on the coffee table and looked at the material, "Where do you fall on this timeline?"

"Oh," you inched even closer, leaning over the paper to point it out to him, "Right here. Five weeks."

Jimin read the short sentences about that stage and cracked a half smile, which evolved into a chuckle, "It says the baby is the size of a sesame seed."

You couldn't understand him, but for some reason his grin was rubbing off on you, "Why is that so funny?"

His joviality didn't let up, "It's not really, it's just...we eat sesame seeds all the time. It's weird to think that we all start out that tiny."

You concurred, smile growing further, "I guess that is pretty weird."

His collected demeanor eased your nerves, and you started to let it sink in. Your heart gravitated to him more with every moment you had spent with him. He'd be a loving father, there was no doubt about that. There was still the issue of your job being on the line, and a slew of other problems that could arise, but perhaps he was right. Maybe you could do this.

You searched his face again to try to get a read on how he was feeling, but he was too busy soaking in all the information in front of him. Clearing your throat, you pointed to the six-week mark, "Next week it will be a pomegranate seed, see?"

Jimin's eyes found yours, puzzled at your more relaxed cadence. When he saw a certain degree of acceptance in your features, he grinned again, taking your hand in his. Then he went back to the pamphlet, "And look, seven weeks is a grape. There seems to be a pattern of food comparisons."

You giggled, "All the way up to forty weeks, the size of a pumpkin."

He laughed too, his genial presentation fading back into a gentle smile shortly after, "I...I want to do this."

Your gut was pulling you in the same direction now. You needed to hear him say it again, perhaps so that you felt confident enough to voice your agreement, "You do?"

The culmination of his feelings for you and the situation finally made it all so clear. It was the right moment.

"I love you, Y/N."

Your chest thumped, eyes getting rounder, "W-What?"

Neither of you had said it yet, for the mutual trepidation that to be too seriously involved would lead to a mess. But to hell with it - the mess was already here.

Jimin's eyes were beaming, "You walked into the studio that one day and I haven't been the same since. You and I have been so concerned with people finding out about us, and I think it made me forget that it's okay to acknowledge my real feelings for you. It's clear to me now that I've been in love with you for months. I mean, this can't be a big surprise, can it?"

You were smiling through tears, "No, it's not a surprise. I just got so comfortable going the way we were that I let go of the expectation to hear it. But I love you too, Jimin."

He pulled you in for a sweet, long kiss. This moment was something you didn't know you wanted, but you welcomed it as if you'd been starving for it. Finally, some clarity on where you both stood - Park Jimin loved you, and you loved him.

You both drew apart, his right hand falling from your chin to your hip. This wasn't out of the ordinary, for him to casually touch you there, but this time he looked down at his hand. He moved it a few inches to the left, right over your lower abdomen. There was no bump to be seen, but his child was still there, the size of a sesame seed.

His voice sounded so sincere, "And I always knew I wanted a family at some point down the line. Sitting here right now, I couldn't picture it with anyone but you."

A twinkle brightened your face, "Neither could I."

His returned smile reached his eyes, "Does that mean we're going to have a baby?"

You nodded in utter disbelief of yourself, "We're going to have a baby."

A chuckle escaped him as his head dipped down, the grin on his face widening, "Oh my God, I'm going to be a dad."

The assurance brought to you by this small glimmer of excitement made all the difference. You were going to be a parent with the man who made you happier than anyone in the world. You were going to be a little family. Any strife and worries could be dealt with tomorrow. For tonight, you could simply be present with him and focus on the good.

#jimin x reader #angst #bts #fanfic #jimin #park jimin #romance #bts fanfic #jimin smut #bts fic #pregnant #established rp #smut #fluff #jimin fluff #jimin angst #idol au

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prettyoddfever · 1 day ago

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Hey, sorry if you've already done a post on this but do we know why Ryan ross stopped wearing stage makeup /makeup in general? I haven't seen any pics of him during pretty odd with any makeup on xx

Ryan only wore stage makeup from June – December 2006. It was just a short phase and then he was totally over it.

The Pretty. Odd. era started in 2008. Ryan and Jon talked a lot that year about how they wanted to make music that was more “honest” and authentic. At that point they viewed all of the Fever-era performers, costumes, makeup, and elaborate sets as “distractions” that weren’t necessary if the music was good enough to speak for itself. There were times that year when Ryan would almost look down on the Fever-era’s dramatic stage shows in a condescending way, as though those things were totally beneath him now. He certainly wanted to distance himself from all of that. He also made comments like “I think we’d be silly if we were wearing the circus outfits again. I don’t even know how we got on that kick.” He also told Cosmogirl in spring 2008 that “I think we’re playing a lot better than we used to... I guess you could say we’re more about sounding good than looking good.” Even his comments that weren’t dismissive of the Fever era still made it sound like the previous version of the band was inferior.

I loved that Ryan had found a direction he was happier with! But he didn’t seem to care that a lot of us were kind of hurt over how he was treating the Fever era. He had moved on. Ryan was more focused on establishing & defending the new version of the band in 2008 (and making it clear that fans didn’t own P!ATD; the band members controlled it and could take it in whatever direction they wanted). A lot of us were definitely interested in the new era, but we were loyal to the old familiar one. I wanted to be able to like both, but many of Ryan’s comments sometimes made me feel silly for ever thinking the Fever era was cool.

Ryan changed so much every year. He also seemed to like to shake things up and make changes to the band so he could feel a stronger sense of ownership & control in something that was more authentic to who he was at each point. Like we had seen many other times, Ryan wasn’t interested in doing something for approval and he didn’t care what other people thought (which could be a strength). He was just going to move ahead with what he liked. Ryan told NME in 2008 that “Fever was a moment in time and it’s not who we are anymore.” Basically, his interests & focus had changed by 2007 and he wasn’t interested in looking back. Here’s something Ryan told Alt Press in 2010 when they asked him if he regretted any decisions from his years in P!ATD:

“At the time, I wouldn’t have changed anything, whether it be the weird makeup or whatever. Now would I do that? No. But at the time, that’s what I felt like I should do, so I did.”

I’ve seen some people these days make comments about how they wish the modern P!ATD had the Fever-era makeup/aesthetic and that its absence is somehow connected to Ryan’s absence? I have no idea how that conclusion works. Any hint of theatricality that the band had after the split was because Ryan was no longer there. Take a Vacation by TYV is basically what Ryan & Jon had in mind in 2008 for PATD’s third album... and that’s a far cry from AFYCSO.

Basically, people change as they grow up nbd.

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badger-tales · 15 hours ago

Text

Just Friends// G.W x Reader

a/n: somehow someway I've become a George Weasley fanfiction account

request:

hiii!!! :)))

could you do a george weasley x reader?? where its their 6th year (they’ve been best friends since their first year along with fred and lee) and they go to the yule ball together as friends and use “to avoid going through the trouble of asking other people” as an excuse(but they like each other) while fred and lee are just like “whatever” and teasing george when the readers gone. they go to the yule ball and go through the night normally but its full of fluffy interactions! and in the end they find themselves out in the courtyard having a snowball fight alone, and george throws a snowball to the readers face so the reader pretends to be hurt to get him back. so she hits him with another snowball when hes all like “are you okay??” and she runs and he chases her and eventually grabs hold of her and theyre sort of just like staring at each other , UNTILLLL!!! they see that theyre under a mistletoe and george is like “well its bad luck if we dont right??? but if you dont want to its fine” and hes all jumbling and messing up his words then the reader just kisses him??? if not that totally fine!! thank youuu🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 also i love ur fics!!!

word count: 5.3k

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a golden glow that danced across the stone walls of the Gryffindor common room. The rich, woody scent of burning logs filled the space, mingling with the faint hint of spiced cider from a nearby group of second-years playing Exploding Snap. Laughter and chatter wove through the air, wrapping around the room like a comforting, invisible blanket. The holiday spirit pulsed through the castle, buoyed by the anticipation of the Yule Ball just days away.

George Weasley lounged on a plush armchair near the fire, one leg dangling over the armrest in a way that seemed both careless and deliberate. His unruly red hair caught the firelight, each strand illuminated in a halo of copper and gold. The light accentuated the constellation of freckles scattered across his cheeks, and a grin played at his lips—a grin that spoke of mischief, warmth, and something more undefined.

On the thick, woven rug beside him, y/n sat cross-legged, her fingers absently turning the pages of a well-worn copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6. The edges of the pages were soft from use, the spine creased with the familiarity of late-night study sessions. Yet, her eyes kept straying to George, drawn to the easy way he inhabited the space, the small quirks of his expression, the way his laughter seemed to light up even the darkest corners of the common room.

A slow smile tugged at her lips when he stretched and let out a dramatic, over-the-top yawn, his hand sweeping above his head before coming to rest on his chest as if he were an actor on stage. She bit back a laugh, tucking it behind a closed-lipped smile.

“You know,” George’s voice broke through her pretense, teasing and laced with mock seriousness, “if you keep pretending to read that, I’m going to start thinking it’s more interesting than my company.” He tilted his head just enough for their eyes to meet, the soft firelight casting a shadow that deepened the blue in his gaze.

She rolled her eyes, snapping the book shut with a decisive thud. The sound resonated between them, punctuated by the warmth of the fire and the laughter that rippled in the distance.

“Maybe it is,” she countered, smirk firmly in place, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. George’s grin widened, and he leaned forward, closing the small distance between them.

“Ouch, you wound me!” he exclaimed, pressing a hand to his chest in a performance that was almost believable. “Tell me then, oh wise one, who are you planning to dazzle at the Yule Ball?”

A snort of laughter escaped her as she reached out, giving him a light shove on the shoulder.

“Dazzle? Please. I’m just trying to make it through the night without tripping over my own feet. Anyway, I’m going with you, remember?” Her voice softened, a slight flutter in her chest as she added, “Strictly as friends, so we don’t have to deal with the hassle of finding dates.”

George’s grin faltered, just for a heartbeat, the flicker of something unspoken passing over his features. His eyes searched hers for a brief moment, as if weighing the distance between what they were and what they might be. Then, just as quickly, the sparkle returned, and he gave a lopsided smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Right, strictly as friends. Merlin forbid we actually try to impress anyone, eh?”

The conversation hovered on the edge of something deeper, but before she could respond, a familiar duo bounded over, their presence an explosion of energy and sound. Fred, carrying two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, wore his signature wide grin, eyes darting between George and Y/n with a knowing glint that promised trouble.

“Strictly as friends, you say?” Fred mimicked, raising an eyebrow with an exaggerated arch that nearly disappeared into his hairline. He handed one of the mugs to Lee, who appeared behind him, chuckling.

“Convenient, isn’t it?” Lee dropped into the chair beside George, sprawling as though he had just sat down to witness the punchline of a good joke. “I’m honestly shocked neither of you’s been swooped up yet. Hogwarts’ most eligible pranksters.”

George rolled his eyes, the tension from before dissolving as he shot a pointed look at Fred. “Jealous, are we? Don’t worry, Fred, maybe someone will take pity on you and agree to go.”

Fred gasped, clutching his chest with an exaggerated display of mock indignation. “Hey! I’m a catch!” He tossed a wink at Y/n, who finally let out a laugh, the warmth of it mixing with the fire’s crackle. Lee grinned, eyes darting between them as if trying to memorize the scene.

The laughter faded, settling into a gentle hum of contentment. George’s eyes found Y/n’s again, lingering a beat longer than he intended. The soft glow of the fire reflected in both their gazes, warming the space between them. This time, neither of them looked away, a silent acknowledgment shared that neither Fred’s teasing nor Lee’s jokes could break.

The common room buzzed around them, filled with holiday anticipation, but in that moment, the rest of the world seemed to shrink, leaving just the two of them, sitting side by side by the fire, waiting for what was to come.

The warmth of the fire had faded, replaced by the cool embrace of night as the castle succumbed to silence. The dormitory was unusually quiet, a rare lull that made every creak and rustle more pronounced. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting long, pale ribbons across the stone floor and the edges of the four-poster beds. The soft, rhythmic snores of George’s roommates filled the space, punctuating the stillness, but George remained wide awake. His eyes were fixed on the dark canopy above, the fabric appearing almost black, an empty mirror of the jumble in his mind.

He let out a quiet sigh, the sound lost in the heavy silence, and shifted restlessly. The old wooden frame of the bed groaned softly as he swung his legs over the side, letting his feet touch the cold stone floor. The chill shot through him, biting and grounding at once. George leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed the back of his neck where tension had settled like an unwanted weight.

Images of her danced behind his closed eyelids—flashes of laughter shared between classes, the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke animatedly about Quidditch tactics, the exasperated smile that always appeared after his worst jokes. Each memory was a small blaze, adding warmth and confusion in equal measure to the storm in his chest.

His fingers curled into fists at the edge of the mattress as he tried to make sense of it. For so many years, it had been easy between them. Their friendship was the one constant amidst the chaos of pranks, homework, and the unpredictable pulse of Hogwarts life. But now… now, that ease felt different, weighted with things unsaid.

A soft rustle from across the room pulled George from his thoughts. Fred stirred, rolling over with a sleepy mutter before propping himself up on one elbow. In the dim moonlight, his eyes, though half-lidded, were sharp with the keen awareness that came naturally to him.

“Pulling an all-nighter, are we?” Fred’s voice, low and slightly rough with sleep, cut through the quiet and made George jolt.

“Merlin, Fred,” George muttered, trying to shake off the surprise and the embarrassment that followed. “Go back to sleep.”

Fred sat up fully now, the sheets pooling around his waist as he squinted at his brother.

“Can’t. Not when I’ve got you brooding like a lost Puffskein in the middle of the night.” He paused, letting a knowing smirk creep onto his face. “Let me guess. Our lovely just friend, who also happens to be your date for the Ball?”

“Shut it, Fred,” George snapped, but there was no real heat in his voice, only the defensive edge of someone caught in the middle of his own tangled thoughts. He felt the flush rise to his neck, unwelcome and unavoidable. He turned his head away, the pale shaft of moonlight casting a shadow across his face.

Fred’s smirk softened, the playful edge replaced with a kind of quiet understanding that only came out when it mattered most.

“Oh, come on, George. It’s obvious. To everyone. Even Lee’s noticed,” he said, his voice low enough to keep from waking the others but laced with the weight of truth.

“Noticed what?” George’s question came out too quickly, betraying his own unease. The room seemed to shrink, the quiet pressing in, waiting for an answer he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

Fred’s eyes held an unusual seriousness as he leaned forward, arms crossed.

“That you look at her like she’s a Snitch you’ll never catch,” he said, each word cutting through George’s resistance. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I know you.”

The admission sat heavily on George’s chest, an iron weight pressing against his ribs. He let out a long breath, eyes drifting to the narrow window. The grounds outside glistened in the moonlight, serene and untouched, in stark contrast to the unrest inside him. “I don’t want to ruin things, Fred. What if… what if I’m just seeing something that’s not there? She’s my best mate. What if saying something makes it all… weird?”

Fred’s smirk softened into a smile, genuine and stripped of his usual bravado. “Mate, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that the two of you are already weird. Weirdly close, weirdly perfect for each other. And if you don’t do anything, you’ll regret it.”

The words settled like a spell, sparking something that George hadn’t let himself name. He remembered the way she had looked at him earlier that day, when they’d joked about the Ball. The slight hesitation before she spoke, the way her smile lingered as though holding back something more. Maybe Fred was right. Maybe the risk was worth it.

But still, the doubts whispered, coiling at the back of his mind. George clenched his jaw, shoving them aside for now. He couldn’t solve it here, not in the middle of the night, not with the quiet pressing around him like a shroud. But he’d see how the Yule Ball played out. Maybe, just maybe, the moment would come when the words that stuck in his throat found their way out.

With a sigh, George lay back down, the mattress shifting under his weight. The darkness above him seemed a little less oppressive now, edged with the silver glow of moonlight and the faint hum of hope. Sleep crept in slowly, and for the first time in a while, the thought of trying felt less like a gamble and more like something he owed to himself.

And with that flicker of determination, his eyes finally closed, surrendering to the quiet.

—

The Great Hall had been transformed into a breathtaking scene that seemed to step out of a dream, a winter wonderland alive with magic. Enchanted icicles hung like delicate chandeliers from the vaulted ceiling, catching the flicker of torches and glowing softly with an otherworldly light. Snowflakes, conjured with such precision that they looked as fragile as real ones, drifted slowly down, swirling and twirling in the warm air before dissolving just above the heads of the assembled students. The tall, frost-tipped trees that framed the room sparkled with twinkling lights, their branches glistening as if they had been dipped in liquid stardust. A silvery luminescence bathed the entire hall, painting everything in shades of moonlight and frost.

The soft strains of the orchestra tuning their instruments filled the air, each note threading seamlessly through the murmured conversations and bursts of laughter that bounced off the stone walls. The festive energy buzzed with anticipation, as though even the walls of Hogwarts held their breath for the night to unfold.

Standing at the entrance, George Weasley shifted restlessly, tugging at the cuffs of his dress robes. The rich maroon fabric complemented the warmth of his hair, which he’d attempted to tame, only for it to retain its usual unruly charm. His gaze swept across the room, eyes catching on familiar faces and the glitter of gowns, until he saw her.

Descending the staircase, she was a vision that made time slow for a heartbeat. Her robes, chosen with impeccable taste, draped gracefully and shimmered with each step, catching the subtle light in a way that made her seem almost luminous. The color framed her eyes perfectly, deepening their sparkle, and George felt his breath catch as a surge of something both exhilarating and nerve-wracking gripped him. He shook it off just as she reached the bottom, his signature grin returning to mask the momentary lapse.

“Wow,” he said, his voice coming out lighter than he intended. A hint of awe clung to the word, making it more sincere. “I mean, you clean up pretty well for someone who trips over their own feet.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she laughed, the sound warm and familiar. She reached out and pushed him playfully on the shoulder, the touch light but sending a jolt through him that he hoped didn’t show. “And you don’t look half bad yourself, Weasley. Surprising, really.”

He opened his mouth, a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, when Fred and Lee appeared in a flurry of movement, carrying with them an air of exaggerated theatrics. Fred’s grin was wide, eyes alight with mischief as he clapped George hard on the shoulder, nearly making him stumble. “And here they are, the legendary duo of ‘just friends,’ about to set the dance floor ablaze with their platonic presence,” he announced, loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby students.

Lee leaned in, smirk firmly in place as he added, “Bet five Galleons they don’t make it through the night without a confession,” just loud enough for them to hear. Y/n’s eyes widened, caught between embarrassment and amusement, while George shot them a glare that failed to mask the redness creeping up his neck.

“Keep your bets to yourselves,” George retorted, though the good-natured grin that followed took the sting out of the words. He turned back to Y/n, offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. “Come on, let’s show these other blokes how it’s done.”

She looped her arm through his, fingers brushing in a way that made the air between them feel electric. The dance floor was a swirl of color and light, robes sweeping over the stone with the rhythm of the music. George led her into the first song with a mixture of confidence and playful clumsiness, moving to the beat with a grin that hinted at barely contained laughter. He spun her out with dramatic flair, her robes flaring around her, before pulling her back into an exaggerated dip that earned them both a chorus of laughter.

“You do know this isn’t one of those comedic skits, right?” she teased, eyes glinting with amusement as she straightened, breathless and glowing from the dance.

“Are you sure?” George shot back, a grin spreading across his face as he glanced toward the staff table. “Because I swear I just saw Snape attempting to smile, and if that’s not a joke, I don’t know what is.”

She laughed, the sound bright and infectious, and for a moment, the rest of the hall seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, surrounded by a world that had taken on a soft blur, wrapped in laughter and stolen glances. And though the night was just beginning, George felt that this was the moment he would replay in his mind for days to come.

As the evening stretched on, the energy in the Great Hall shifted. The jubilant buzz of earlier dances mellowed, and the orchestra transitioned to softer, slower melodies. The enchanted icicles above shimmered in time with the gentle strains of the music, their soft glow casting an ethereal light across the room. Around them, couples drew closer, heads bent in whispered conversations, eyes reflecting the delicate twinkle of overhead lights. It felt as though the entire hall had exhaled, settling into a quiet, shared moment of intimacy.

George’s hand, warm and confident, rested lightly at Y/n’s waist, guiding her in the slow, steady movements of the dance. The contact was familiar yet startling in its effect, sending a warmth coursing up her spine that was as surprising as it was comforting. Their fingers intertwined, a natural fit that felt as if they had been meant to find each other in this way all along. The world outside their small circle seemed to blur; the music, the other dancers, the gentle snowflakes still falling from the enchanted ceiling—all of it softened into a background hum.

“So,” George said, his voice dipping to match the quiet notes around them. The usual spark of humor was still there, but something else tempered it, something that made his eyes hold hers a fraction longer. “Are we still surviving this without any major catastrophes?”

Y/n’s smile wavered, not from hesitation, but from the weight of the moment. The gentle teasing in his tone didn’t hide the question in his eyes, the one that had hovered unspoken between them for longer than either could admit. She squeezed his hand, fingers pressing into the spaces between his, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath the surface.

“Surviving?” she echoed, her voice softening as a true smile curved her lips. “I’d say we’re doing better than that.”

The room around them seemed to still, the air heavy with something unnameable but tangible. George’s breath caught, and for a heartbeat, he was lost in the depth of her gaze, where laughter, comfort, and something deeper blended seamlessly. His mouth opened, words hovering on the cusp—words that he’d felt but never dared to voice.

But before he could speak, a familiar, boisterous voice pierced the fragile bubble of quiet. “Oi! Save the staring contest for later, lovebirds. Some of us are trying to dance over here!” Fred’s shout cut through the air, followed by a chorus of amused snickers and chuckles. Lee waved from the sidelines, a conspiratorial grin plastered on his face.

The spell shattered in an instant, and a rush of heat flooded George’s cheeks, spreading down to his neck. Y/n’s face mirrored his, flushed and wide-eyed with the sudden attention. Laughter bubbled around them, but even as the moment dissolved, neither moved away. Their hands remained linked, the space between them unchanged despite the laughter rippling through the hall.

George looked at her, the glint of embarrassment giving way to something more resolute. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, softer this time, and the promise in his eyes was clear: Fred’s teasing hadn’t broken anything that couldn’t be rebuilt, that couldn’t grow stronger. The warmth in her returning smile told him she understood perfectly.

The orchestra shifted into another slow tune, the light above them flickering like stars, and the two of them remained standing there, sharing a look that spoke volumes in the quiet language they’d always shared. The dance resumed around them, but their moment, despite the interruption, was only just beginning.

The Great Hall had grown louder and more lively as the night went on, but George and Y/n found themselves drifting toward a quieter corner, taking breaks from the dancing to catch their breath. They sat at a table with Lee, who had been eyeing George with a look that spoke of knowing amusement. The night was rich with laughter, interrupted by soft music that played in the background and the hum of conversations.

George leaned back in his chair, the air around him still tinged with the warmth of dancing. “I’m going to get some drinks,” he said, pushing himself up. His fingers brushed against Y/n’s for just a moment—a touch so brief it felt like a secret shared between them. She looked up, her eyes following him as he made his way through the crowd.

Fred took advantage of the moment, leaning forward with his trademark mischievous grin, an eyebrow raised. “You know, he’s had that stupid look on his face every time you’ve walked into a room since first year, right?”

A sudden rush of warmth flooded Y/n’s chest, her heart pounding unexpectedly. She forced a roll of her eyes, schooling her features into a semblance of playful annoyance. “Nice try, Fred. You’re not nearly as subtle as you think you are.”

Fred’s grin only widened, a sparkle of satisfaction lighting up his eyes. “Just trying to help move things along. You’ll thank me one day,” he said with a wink that made her laugh despite herself.

George returned moments later, holding two cups of punch. He settled into his seat, exhaling as he handed one to her, the corners of his lips tugging up when he noticed Fred and Lee high-fiving behind his back. He didn’t say anything, but a faint smile betrayed that he was more aware than he let on. The table fell into easy conversation, laughter spilling into the air, each teasing comment laced with warmth. What had started as a casual agreement to attend the Ball together began to feel like something more substantial—something both thrilling and a little terrifying.

Later, with the night deepening and the hall still aglow with the silvery charm of the decorations, George and Y/n slipped outside. The cold air greeted them, sharp and crisp, tinged with the clean scent of snow. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside drifted behind them, a distant memory compared to the stillness of the courtyard.

The moon hung low, bathing the scene in a silver wash that turned the snow into a canvas of glistening frost. Tiny ice crystals adorned the bare branches, catching the light and sparkling like stars. Their footsteps crunched softly over the snow, breaking the quiet as they walked further out.

“I needed a break from all the dancing,” Y/n said, her breath visible in the cold as she shivered lightly. A grin broke across her face as she looked up at George. “Not that I’m complaining. Your moves have improved since third year, I’ll give you that.”

George laughed, the sound rich and familiar, curling warmly in the cold air. “Oh, you mean the time I tripped over your foot and we both ended up in a heap at McGonagall’s feet?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly closer. “I’ll have you know, that was all part of my strategy. Always keep your partner guessing.”

She laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls and filling the quiet space between them. Their breaths mingled in the cold, little puffs that vanished as quickly as they appeared. The shared silence felt different out here, stretched under the starlit sky, charged with an unspoken anticipation.

Suddenly, Y/n bent down, the snow cold but malleable in her hands. With a twist and a quick flick of her wrist, she sent a snowball flying. It hit George squarely in the chest, powder exploding against his maroon dress robes and leaving a wide-eyed look of surprise on his face.

“Oi!” he exclaimed, laughter bubbling up almost immediately as he processed what had happened. Y/n stepped back, giggling, her eyes bright with mischief as she prepared to dodge whatever came next.

“You were asking for it!” she teased, already crouching to gather more snow.

“I’ll show you asking for it,” George said, his eyes alight with playful menace as he hurled a snowball that whizzed past Y/n’s head, narrowly missing as she ducked and darted behind a stone pillar. The courtyard rang with their laughter, the sound sharp and joyous in the crisp night air, echoing against the ancient stone walls. Each well-aimed throw was met with shrieks of delight or exaggerated groans of mock defeat, and every duck and dodge sent powdery bursts of snow scattering into the moonlit air.

George’s eyes narrowed with a look of determination as he formed another snowball and launched it with precision. This time, it clipped her shoulder, sending a flurry of snow cascading down her back. She stumbled, half-laughing and half-gasping, arms flailing dramatically. George straightened, triumphant, hands resting on his hips as he called out, “Victory is mine!”

But Y/n wasn’t one to admit defeat so easily. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she collapsed to the ground, splaying herself out in an exaggerated pose of surrender. Her face was hidden by her hands, shoulders trembling as she suppressed a giggle.

A sharp pang of worry wiped the grin from George’s face, his heart stuttering as he took a cautious step forward. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, his voice softening with concern. He dropped to one knee in the snow beside her, brows knitting together as he reached out.

Y/n’s shoulders shook again, and before he could register the telltale signs of suppressed laughter, she sprang up. With a triumphant laugh, she pressed a handful of snow directly into his face, the cold biting against his flushed skin and leaving him spluttering.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that!” George shouted, shaking snow from his hair as a wicked grin replaced his earlier concern. Any hesitation was gone as he lunged forward, his arms reaching out. She shrieked, twisting away, but George was quicker. He caught her around the waist, lifting her off the ground in a burst of momentum. They stumbled together, the snow crunching beneath their feet, laughter mingling and dying into the quiet as they found balance.

The world seemed to still as George’s arms remained wrapped around her, holding her close. Their breath came in soft, visible puffs, mingling in the chilled air between them. The playful glint in his eyes softened, replaced by something deeper as he looked at her. The moon hung heavy above them, casting a silvery glow that outlined their faces, highlighting every stray snowflake clinging to their hair and lashes.

Their eyes flickered upward at the same time, drawn by a subtle sparkle in the night. There, hanging from a gnarled branch, was a sprig of enchanted mistletoe, its leaves glistening softly with magic. The sight sent a jolt of something unnameable through George’s chest, and a flush crept up his neck, turning his cheeks a deeper shade than the cold could account for.

“Well,” George said, his voice lower now, rougher, as if it carried the weight of unspoken words. “It’s bad luck if we don’t, right? But I mean, only if you want to—”

Before he could finish, she tilted her face up, eyes bright and steady, and closed the space between them. The first touch of their lips was tentative, light as the snow that drifted around them, but the warmth that surged through them banished any chill. George’s arms tightened, drawing her closer as he deepened the kiss, the weight of years of unvoiced wishes finally, blissfully, falling away.

They pulled back, eyes wide and searching, both breathless and a little awed by the moment. George’s grin returned, crooked and full of a confidence that felt renewed.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

She laughed, soft and sure, the sound a balm in the quiet night. Leaning her forehead against his, she whispered,

“Yes.” The word was simple, but it was everything. The snow around them felt warmer, the winter air humming with a magic that had nothing to do with spells or enchantments. It was the kind of magic spun from shared laughter, quiet glances, and the realization that sometimes, the bravest thing was to reach out and hold on.

The cold bit at their exposed skin, sharp and bracing, but it mattered less now than it had moments before. George kept one arm loosely draped around Y/n, the lingering echo of their kiss warming the air between them. The courtyard, blanketed in pristine snow and illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, felt vast and secretive—a space carved out just for them. The world beyond seemed a distant echo, muted by the quiet splendor of the winter night.

Y/n shifted back slightly, just enough to tip her head up and meet George’s eyes. The familiar spark was there, the playful glint that always spoke of mischief, but now it held something more profound, a depth that made her pulse quicken. The silence that enveloped them was not awkward but steeped in the kind of understanding they’d always shared, waiting patiently for its moment to be acknowledged.

“So,” she said, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “I guess this means we’re not *just friends* anymore, huh?”

George chuckled, the sound deep and warm, reverberating in the stillness. “I don’t think we’ve been *just friends* for a while now.” His hand lifted, brushing away a stray snowflake that clung to her hair, his fingers lingering long enough to make her breath hitch and her heart thud with renewed force.

Before the silence could deepen further, a shout cut through the cool air, loud and unmistakable. George turned, half-shielding Y/n as he squinted into the dim glow of the castle. From one of the high windows, Fred and Lee leaned out, their faces barely illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Fred’s voice boomed, full of triumphant humor.

“About time, you two! Do we need to send down a banner or something?”

Lee’s laughter rang out, sharp and infectious. “Make sure George doesn’t faint from all that bravery!”

Y/n’s laugh bubbled up, uncontainable and bright, while George groaned, the flush returning to his cheeks as he buried his face in one hand.

“I’m going to have to lock them in a broom cupboard one of these days,” he muttered, half to himself.

“Oh, come on,” she said, catching his hand and pulling it away, revealing the lopsided grin he couldn’t suppress. “They’ve been rooting for you.”

George let out a melodramatic sigh, but the fondness in his eyes was undeniable.

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t let them hear you say that, or they’ll never let us live it down.”

The courtyard settled into silence once more as the laughter from the castle faded, leaving behind only the soft sounds of their breaths and the crunch of snow beneath their feet. The warmth between them felt as real and solid as the walls of the castle itself. George’s gaze softened, his voice dropping to a more serious note, carrying the weight of an admission.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. Kiss you, I mean.”

Her eyes met his, the teasing spark replaced by something sincere, a smile that spoke more than words.

“I know,” she whispered, the honesty in her voice brushing against him like the lightest of touches. “Me too.”

Above them, a gentle snowfall began again, tiny flakes drifting down as if the sky itself had chosen to mark the moment. George tightened his hold, tucking her closer as they began to walk back toward the castle. Their footsteps left twin trails in the snow, side by side, a quiet testament to what had just unfolded.

“Think we’ll survive the teasing tomorrow?” she asked, the twinkle in her eyes mirrored by the soft glow of the moon.

George’s grin widened, confidence bubbling back to the surface.

“Not a chance,” he said, laughter underlining his words. “But it’ll be worth it.”

The warmth of the castle loomed ahead, its glow spilling out onto the snow as they stepped inside, bringing with them the magic of the night. Behind them, the snow fell gently, erasing their tracks and leaving only the memory of a story that had finally, beautifully, begun.

#george weasly x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley #george weasley x reader

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