#joshua hong x y/n

[mochacoda]

too nice | hjs

Pairing: Hong Joshua x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Joshua Hong is nice. Too nice. He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. The answer is, no. Problem is, he's your coworker and your neighbor.

Content: Fluff | Coworkers to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: slightly insecure reader, totally inspired by the youngji chocolate milk grandchildren interview, lots of elevators, lots of tension, a bit of drinking, mutual pining, "sweetheart" as a petname, gentleman agenda indeed, except he goes a bit mad at the end, seungkwan is a comedic genius, woozi is the wingman of the year, konglish w/ context clues, reader is scared of loud noises, no "y/n," loosely connected to python (seungcheol)

Word Count: 10K

Masterlist

────୨ৎ──── Monday

Joshua Hong is nice. Really nice. He opens the door for you every morning walking into work. He insists that he carries heavy file boxes from your boss’ office to your desk. He buys you coffee from the cafe down the street, knowing that the instant machine is almost always broken. Whenever he passes you in the hallway, he always smiles and mouths “fighting!” He notices when your enthusiastic mask slips and your tiredness peaks through. He tells you not to work so hard, and asks if you’ve been sleeping well. 

He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. 

But the answer is, no. 

“He’s just like that. He’s nice to everyone. Get a grip.”

You sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror hanging above your vanity. You’ve been absentmindedly rubbing moisturizer on your cheeks for the last three minutes, at least, thinking about your coworker. How have you gotten to the point of talking to yourself in attempts to rationalize the thoughts of him clouding your mind?

All of a sudden, your alarm rings. You jolt upright, reminded that you have to leave your tiny apartment and head over to your equally small office cubicle. 

You quickly stand up from your vanity chair, then walk over to your closet to grab a jacket. Relying on muscle memory, your hand moves toward the hook it always lies on, only to swipe at air. 

The one and only winter coat you own isn’t there. 

You groan, remembering that you’d put it in the laundry bin after staining it with beer over the weekend, at that disastrous company “bonding” event. You look down at the taupe sweater you’re wearing, pinching the material to guess if it’d be warm enough. It’s barely a centimeter of fabric. 

Glancing at the time on your phone, you decide that the thin sweater would just have to do. 

You turn back to the mirror to do one last check of your appearance, when something catches your eye. Sitting on your bedside table is the plushie Joshua had won for you at the arcade. The bunny stares back at you innocently. You’d placed it there last night before crashing out on your bed, fatigued from the chaos of the company outing—or, more specifically, the secondhand embarrassment recalling your attempts at trying to be normal around Joshua.  

You shake your head roughly. You could cringe at yourself on the way to work. Grabbing your work bag and shoving your shoes on, you rush over to the door. 

Squaring your shoulders, you open it and walk out. And for a moment, as you’re turning your key to lock the door, you think that you’ll be alone for the commute to work for once. 

But then you hear a familiar voice.

“Good morning!” 

You tense, heart beginning to race, then turn around with a weak smile.

“Hi, Joshua.” 

Somehow, you’re not only coworkers with your crush, but also next door neighbors. 

“Hey,” he says, then takes a sharp breath. “It’s pretty cold today. Is that sweater going to be warm enough?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you drop your keys into your bag. “It can’t be that cold.” 

You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk toward the elevator on your floor, pressing the down button. It immediately opens.

“You sure?” 

You nod as the two of you walk inside the elevator. 

Hoping he’ll stop pushing you on your lack of a coat, you ask, “Did you look into the McKinley and Lee file yet?”

“Come on, it’s not even 9am and you’re already attacking me with work!” Joshua dramatically clutches his chest, then lightly punches your arm. “What’d we say about 워라밸, huh?”

You feel your face getting hot, your right hand reflexively going up to where he’d touched your left arm. Was it always this toasty in the elevator?

Meeting his eyes for the first time today, you say, “Yeah, yeah, work-life balance. You’re right.”

His lips turn up and his eyes crinkle into bright crescent moons. You find yourself smiling back at him, despite having tried so hard to avoid his stupidly sweet gaze.  

“I’m just teasin’, you know?” he says, leaning casually against the steel walls of the small elevator.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble again, rubbing the handle of your bag and tapping your foot to give yourself something else to focus on, suddenly aware that the two of you were alone. 

God, could the elevator move any slower? Fidgeting with the loose threads of your sweater, you were on the verge of melting from being near his vicinity for so long. 

Ever since Joshua Hong had arrived two months ago as a transfer from the Seoul branch, you haven’t gone a day without running into him. It was HR’s fault, really. The Human Resources department had placed him in yours, and also gave him the company-funded apartment next door to you. 

He’d spent so much time around you that, if you didn’t see the people who regularly flocked to him, you’d think you were his only friend in the States. It was, and still is, ridiculous. His constant presence has meant that you are constantly aware of yourself. Of how you’re breathing too loud, and how your heart is beating too fast, and how you were in too much of a rush to do your full routine this morning. He makes you care more than usual about how well you perform at work, and, worse, he makes you think about how happy and funny you appear to be. 

The way he teases you for being nervous (although that’s only because he’s around practically all the time) and the way he always notices when you aren’t feeling well—it’s as if he sees right through you. Yes, he sees right through you, and it’s incredibly scary knowing he could confront you at any time—maybe even in this elevator—and say that he’s known all along that you’ve had feelings for him. And what’s worse is that you know he’d be polite with his rejection. He’d be a gentleman, carefully letting you down with—

“Hello? Hellooo?” Joshua says, waving his hand in front of your face.

You jump, blinking rapidly. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“We’re here, sweetheart,” he says gently.

“Oh,” you reply lamely. 

He gestures with his hand for you to walk out of the elevator first. Inside the lobby, he walks by your side. As the two of you approach the door, he reaches it first, and opens it for you to head outside. 

You’re immediately hit with a blast of winter and harsh winds. Your arms instinctively tighten around your stomach, trying to prevent the cold air from rushing up your sweater. 

Joshua turns to you, brows furrowed. His eyes glance over your sweater again, and you can tell he’s about to say something. Certain it’s an I told you so, you quickly say, “Before you start, I’m fine. It’s really not that cold, and the bus is coming soon anyway.”

You march forward toward the crosswalk before the bus stop, knowing he’s following behind you. Once you reach the start of the white lines, you slow down to a stop, waiting for the signal to change. 

Still behind you, Joshua says, “거기 있어봐.” 

“왜?” Though confused, you listen to his request to stay where you are. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling somewhat awkward just standing with your back turned to him. 

He doesn’t answer your question why, but you hear a shuffle and the sound of fabric rustling. Then you feel a warm coat draped over your shoulders. 

You turn back to face Joshua with a start, opening your mouth to protest.

But before you can get a word out, he takes his pointer finger and lightly presses it against your lips. 

“Shh,” he says with a smile. “Tomorrow, wear a jacket, okay?” He pats the top of your head. 

Speechless, you barely bring yourself to nod, then remember to shut your jaw. Let’s just survive this bus ride, you tell yourself. God, it was unfair how nice he was. It only made it harder for you to believe he was like this with everyone—or to stop hoping that, somehow, you might be the exception. 

────୨ৎ──── Tuesday

Ever since you showed up to work on Monday wearing Joshua’s coat, your coworkers have been speculating nonstop about your nonexistent relationship with the man. More specifically, your two closest friends in the department, Boo Seungkwan and Lee Jihoon, have had a lot to say. 

Today would be no different. Huddled around the coffee table in the break room with Seungkwan and Jihoon, you’ve been roped into listening to their comments. 

Eyes darting between the two of them, you silently sip on your coffee.

“I’m a hundred percent sure now. I swear it’s real, he’s so into you,” Seungkwan says while staring at you, waving his hands in the air like a madman.

Jihoon raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure? Remember when you said that the delivery guy had a crush on this one,” he replies while pointing at you, “only for it to be me? Your 촉 is trash.”

Seungkwan scrunches his nose, and huffs in your direction, as if you’re going to defend his skill of guessing office relationships. (You’re not.)

“Your hunch is horrible, I said,” Jihoon says, goading him. 

“No,” Seungkwan frantically shakes his head. “That was a one off. Remember when I said the nepo baby in Finance liked Director Chun’s secretary? He kept staring at her and nobody believed me but I was right!” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Lucky guess.” 

“No, no, no, my 촉 is excellent, thank you very much.” Seungkwan turns to you, all pouty. “You trust my 촉, right?”

Finding the entire conversation ridiculous, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. Though Seungkwan prides himself on his supposedly superior hunches, he is really only accurate half the time. 

You raise your coffee cup to your lips and sip on the liquid inside, a perfect state in between steaming hot and lukewarm. 

“Kkah, this coffee is great,” you say to Seungkwan, ignoring his question. 

His eyes suddenly widen, and he frantically waves his pointer finger at you. “Oh, oh! Another thing! He always gets you coffee from that expensive place next door, Cafe whatever. He never gets us coffee, but he always gets you coffee.”

Taken aback, you put the cup down, saying, “No way, he does that for a lot of people. He bought coffee for the receptionist like, last week.”

“That’s because it was her birthday,” Seungkwan says. 

“And how’d you know that?” you ask.

“Because there were happy birthday balloons next to her desk?” Seungkwan says matter-of-factly. 

“Well—” you retort, before getting cut off. 

“You know,” Jihoon suddenly interjects. “I hate to agree, but it’s true. Joshua doesn’t do that for anyone else.” 

“Right?” Seungkwan exclaims, nudging your arm with his elbow. “Come on, I’m so right. Woozi said I’m right. Trust the 촉.”

You rub your temples, feeling ambushed by your loud friends. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You wave them off as you stand up from the little coffee table chair you’d been sitting on for the last few minutes. “I’m going to head out.”

“Where are you going?” Seungkwan asks.

“Away from you,” you joke.

“I know you’re going to the vending machine,” Jihoon accuses. "You always get a snack after coffee."

You raise your hands in mock surrender. 

“Can you get me a granola bar, then? You know the one I like, the blueberry one.” Seungkwan asks.

“Oh, and a Coke Zero for me?” Jihoon adds. “Y’know, not everyone has a coffee fairy named Joshua, like you do.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You know it’s not like that. Besides, you guys just love using my money, don’t you?”

“Guilty,” Jihoon grins.

“Come on, I paid for karaoke last Friday,” Seungkwan complains. “That was way more expensive than a granola bar and a Coke.”

“Coke Zero,” Jihoon says, emphasizing the “Zero.” 

“Tomato, tomato.” Seungkwan wrinkles his nose, enunciating the “ay” and “ah” in the two pronunciations of the word.

“Apples, oranges,” Jihoon insists.

“Okay, okay, let’s not fight, children. A blueberry granola bar and a Coke Zero, on your way.” You give a pretentious salute.

Grasping your coffee, you down the rest of it and get up from the table. You crumple the cup and toss it into the trash can before leaving. 

Walking through the main hallway, you pass the vending machines on your department’s floor, which are known to swallow dollar bills without offering products in return. Between the youngest employees in the department—people like you, Seungkwan, and Jihoon—you’ve discovered a secret spot that has better machines. 

Once you reach the elevator, you tap on the down button. When the doors open, you walk inside and press on the “G” and “Door Close” buttons. 

The elevator doors close smoothly, and you tap your foot as you watch the numbers at the top right corner go down from 8. It reminds you of the awkward elevator ride from Monday morning, but you quickly shake those thoughts out of your head. 

It’s best not to think of Joshua when you don’t have to.

The garage is a relatively far trek from floor 8, but it’s a worthwhile time sacrifice. The other floors (and by extension, their vending machines) are locked by key cards for employees of their respective departments, so it’s either you take a chance with the floor 8 machines or head to the basement. You, Seungkwan, and Jihoon have all found that you’d rather not take that chance. 

The elevator announces your arrival to the ground floor with a ding, and as the doors open, you make a beeline toward the machines. 

Seeing that someone is already using the vending machine closest to the elevator, you walk past it toward the machine closest to the doors leading out of the hall and into the garage. 

“Blueberry granola bar, Coke Zero. Blueberry granola bar, Coke Zero,” you repeat to yourself under your breath.

Coming to a stop by the vending machine, you scan the snacks inside. Grabbing your wallet, you fish some dollars out and double check the numbers of the items before lifting your right hand up to the combination pad. 

Jihoon first, because he was slightly less annoying than Seungkwan this morning: Coke Zero, number 405. You punch the numbers into the machine. When it flashes $2.00, your eyes widen. 

“Two dollars for a soda is robbery,” you groan. 

Still, you count two dollars out from the wad of cash in your left hand, then feed it into the machine. The machine begins whirring, the spiral in 405 moving forward. But just as you think the drink is going to come out, the spiral stops. 

“Oh, come on,” you mutter. 

You press on the small button next to the number pad that you guess is made for delivering change, but it doesn’t return your money. 

Maybe putting in two more dollars would make the machine move and spit out two drinks? Immediately acting on the thought, you punch 405 in the number pad again and feed two more dollars into the machine, only for it to whir without delivering the Cokes again. Another two dollars later, and the same happens. 

Taking matters into your own hands, you begin banging on the front of the vending machine. After around five seconds of failing to make the machine respond to physical force, your arms fall from the screen back down to your sides. 

Clenching your fists, you sigh and count out two more dollars from your left hand. Then, your right hand stalls. 

On second thought, you really don’t want to lose more money to the machine. Maybe you should try to force it out one more time? You shove the remaining cash into your back pocket. 

You raise your clenched fists again, but before your hands meet the vending machine glass, a voice suddenly comes from right behind you. 

“Whoa, whoa.” 

Unfortunately, you’d recognize that honey-coated voice anywhere. 

You spin around wide-eyed, coming shockingly close to Joshua Hong. His face is dangerously near yours, and his arms have wrapped around your body to clasp your hands in his.

“Shua? Wha—” Your voice is breathless, trailing off like you’ve forgotten how to speak.

“Hey, don’t fight the machine. You’ll only end up hurting your hands.”

His words are soft, but the way his thumb grazes your knuckles leaves a faint hint of warmth, like he’s lit a match against your skin. You should pull back—really, you should. But the closeness, the weight of his presence, keeps you frozen in place.

Your heart stutters in protest. This is nothing. He’s always like this. Always caring, always thoughtful. Always too close.

And yet, remembering what Seungkwan and Jihoon said, some part of you also wonders: Why does it feel different when it’s me?

Scowling, you drop his hands and take a step back, like distance will save you. "It's fine. I'm handling it."

His brow arches at your defiance, and for a moment, his gaze searches yours, like he’s looking for something you’re not ready to admit.

"Are you?" he asks, the words laced with amusement.

Your hands ball into fists at your sides, both in frustration and to keep them from reaching out for him again and betraying you. 

“I am,” you insist, though the heat rising in your cheeks threatens to undermine your confidence.

But then, just as quickly, he tilts his head, and his lips curve into a smirk—soft, upturned at the corners, with those faint dimples that could bring a fortress down.

And for a moment, just a moment, you wonder if you’re the only one feeling this way.

But before you can think of a sharp retort, his voice cuts through the haze in your head.

“You should’ve just asked me for help—like always.”

The softness in his tone, the familiarity, pulls you up short. It’s almost unbearable how easy it is for him to say things like this. Like it’s normal. Like it’s not turning your brain into static.

It’s too much. He can’t keep getting away with this, with being so nice to you all the time. It’s not fair.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you blurt out, clenching your fists tighter. You’ve got to hold your ground.

Joshua cocks his head slightly. “I thought you like it when I help you?” 

Your face gets, if possible, even hotter. 

Honestly, what can you even say to that? 

Desperately avoiding his face, you stare at the much safer collar of his shirt. It’s an off white color, like the fur of the stuffed bunny he’d gotten you at the arcade. It remains on your nightstand because you still have no idea what to do with it. 

Realizing that you didn’t answer him, you finally deflect. “Where’d you even come from? I didn’t see you.”

“Over there,” he says softly, pointing at the vending machine by the elevator.

“Oh.” You press your lips together, belatedly realizing that the person you’d passed on your way to this vending machine had been Joshua all along. 

“So, what’d you need? I’ll fix it for you.” 

You feel your face getting hot again. “Coke Zero,” you mumble.

“I thought you didn’t like Coke?” Joshua asks. 

He remembers?

“It’s not for me,” you explain. “For Woozi.”

“Woozi?”

“Oh, I mean Jihoon.”

Strangely feeling like you have to explain yourself to him, to let him know that you’re only friends, you say, “We went to college together. Me, Jihoon, and Seungkwan. We just happened to get into the same department here.” 

Joshua hums in acknowledgment. “No wonder, I always saw the three of you together. Made me feel left out.”

Your heart drops. Eyes wide, you cross your arms repeatedly, saying, “I never—we never meant to exclude you at all!”

“That’s okay, I have you to talk to, right?” he says with what you can only describe as an upside down smile. 

You swallow and nod. 

“Y’know I was just teasing,” he says casually. “I wasn’t offended.” 

Before you can confront him about the mental whiplash he’s putting you through, he grasps your shoulders and maneuvers you to the right, so that he can stand in front of the machine. His touch was fleeting, but your heart skips a beat anyway. 

You watch as he grabs two dollars out of his wallet, then punches 405 into the keypad. As the spiral whirs, he sends two precise kicks to the bottom left of the machine.

Doubting his method, you raise your eyebrows in uncertainty. But just as you do, the whirring is accompanied by the sound of the soft drinks falling.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! 

That actually works? 

Joshua bends down and sticks a hand into the bottom flap of the machine, pulling out the drinks that had just dropped from slot 405. 

“Four Coke Zeros, at your service. Anything else?”

“Oh, a blueberry granola bar for Seungkwan. And those chips for me,” you say with mild surprise, pointing at slots 201 and 302. 

“Sure thing.” He taps the corresponding numbers and slips some bills into the machine. 

Thankfully, 201 and 302 are very cooperative, unlike 405. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to pay for those,” you say, your fingers brushing against his as you accept Seungkwan’s granola bar and your bag of chips. The faint contact sends an unexpected jolt through your chest, one you force yourself to ignore.

“Oh, it’s not for free,” Joshua replies, his lips curling into a smile that’s soft yet pointed. “You owe me a coffee from next door.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “Tomorrow morning, then?”

He nods his head slightly, a gesture so casual it almost feels calculated. “How about today, after work?”

Your heart stutters. The way he’s looking at you—his eyes shining, eyebrows raised a little, with a faint crease between his brows—feels strange. It’s somewhat vulnerable, like he’s waiting for something.

No, surely not. Surely, he’s not—

The thought dies before it can fully form, drowned out by the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Sure,” you manage to squeak out, your voice embarrassingly small in the space between you.

His smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something else in his expression. Relief? Satisfaction?

You swallow hard and grip the snacks in your hands like they’re a lifeline. You need to get a hold of yourself. Joshua Hong is not asking you out. He’s just nice. That’s all.

────୨ৎ──── Wednesday

“You’re joking. You’re actually joking.” Seungkwan’s voice rings throughout his waterlogged apartment. 

“Most unfortunately, I’m not.” You blink, feeling a droplet of sweat getting dangerously close to your eyes. 

You carefully wipe the sweat that’s gathered at your forehead using your forearm, since your hands are gloved up. You definitely don’t want the nasty residue from the rubber gloves getting on your face. 

Seungkwan glares. “You didn’t tell me that you were on a date with You Know Who! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have called you.”

“Well, you did,” you say exasperatedly, grabbing an antique-looking lamp and lightly placing it in the box of items to throw away. 

“Tell me what happened, exactly. Don’t leave a single thing out!” Seungkwan barks, waving at you from across the room, where he’s dismantling a chair to put in the box. 

In the middle of clearing out Seungkwan's damp furniture, your mind drifts back to yesterday afternoon, to the cafe where…

────୨ৎ────

…The soft hum of coffee grinders and the steady chatter of customers make you feel warm inside, easing the tension from earlier that morning. You sit across from Joshua at a tiny table near the main window, taking in how the late afternoon sun casts a golden glow over his face. He looks like royalty, and you think you could watch him for forever. 

He’s nursing a cappuccino, his slender fingers tracing absent patterns on the side of the mug, while you sip on a mocha latte, its foam already starting to lose its shape. Staring at the latte, you think it’s about time you moved on from small talk.

“You really didn’t have to pay for my drink,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction. It’s hard to argue with him when he wields his secret weapon every time. 

He smiles, that same boyish, disarming grin he always gives you. “It’s just coffee. I get you one almost every day, y’know?”

“Yeah, but I was supposed to—”

“Exactly,” he interrupts, eyes sparkling. “Think of it as payback. For all the mornings you made brighter just by showing up.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, heat spreading down your neck as you lower your gaze to the coffee table, suddenly fascinated by the faint scratch marks on its surface. “You’re too nice,” you manage, the words feeling as flimsy as tissue paper.

“Only to you,” he says, and though his tone is light, the words feel impossibly heavy. Like they’re carrying something you’re both too afraid to name.

Your heart twists violently as your eyes snap up to meet his. The way he’s looking at you—steady, unyielding—makes your breath hitch. This is Joshua, you remind yourself, the nicest guy you’ve ever met. And yet, you can’t ignore the way it feels like he’s waiting for something. For you.

“You don’t mean that. I don’t believe that.” The words spill out before you can stop them, shaky and uneven. But even as you say them, a part of you aches with the knowledge that it’s not entirely true.

Because deep down, you want to believe him. You want to hold onto the idea that he’s different with you, that the warmth in his voice and the way he looks at you isn’t just another facet of his kindness but something more.

But that hope is dangerous.

If you believe him and you’re wrong—if this is just Joshua being Joshua, warm and selfless to everyone he meets—it’ll break you. So instead, you tell yourself that it’s impossible. That he can’t mean it.

You clutch onto every reason why: the way he always holds the door open for others, how he buys coffee for the entire team sometimes, the way he seems to know exactly what to say to make anyone smile. It’s who he is, you think, not just with you.

The idea of reading too much into his words—of exposing your heart only to realize you’ve misunderstood everything—is unbearable. So you push it away, burying the small flicker of hope before it has a chance to grow.

But even as you deny him, there’s a quiver in your voice, a hesitation that gives you away.

He leans forward slightly, his arms resting on the table, shrinking the distance between you. “You should. Don’t you ever wonder why?”

Your breath catches. His words hang in the air, heavy and charged, and for a second, you think he’s about to say something that will upend everything you’ve convinced yourself to believe about him.

“Joshua, I—”

Before you can finish, your phone buzzes loudly on the table, shattering the moment. 

You scramble to grab it, breaking eye contact as you glance at the screen.

It reads: “Kwannie Kwannie Kwannie.”

You sigh deeply but answer the call, putting the phone to your ear. “What?”

“Help!” Seungkwan’s voice comes through in a panicked shriek. You take the phone a few inches away from your ear, wincing at the sound, then stiffen. His tone did not sound like one of his regular, made-up crises. Bringing your phone closer to your ear, you hear him shout. “My apartment’s flooding! There’s water up to my knees, my coach is floating! I don’t know what to do! Jihoon’s useless with this kind of stuff, and you’re the only person who knows where my emergency shutoff is—”

“Okay, okay, breathe. 4-7-8 method. I’ll be right there,” you say, shooting up from your chair.

Joshua watches you, his brows knitting together in concern. “Everything okay?”

“Seungkwan’s apartment is flooding. I have to go help him,” you explain, grabbing your bag. 

“I’ll come with you,” he immediately offers, already standing.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.” You force a smile, though you’re still buzzing with the tension of whatever had just happened. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Before he can respond, you rush out the door, heart racing—not just from Seungkwan’s crisis, but from the words Joshua almost said. You hear him calling your name, but you’re unable to bring yourself to look back, afraid you’d cave. 

If you had, you would’ve seen a crestfallen Joshua still standing by the table, frozen in place...

────୨ৎ────

...Seungkwan drops a chair leg. 

If the water hadn’t already been drained (by you, yesterday, when you figured out how to use Seungkwan’s emergency shutoff valve), the metal leg would have made a small splash and floated in knee-deep waters. Instead, it fell obnoxiously loudly onto Seungkwan’s hardwood floor, ringing throughout the half-empty apartment with full force.

“Ah! Seungkwan!” You jump, nearly dropping your drill, which you had been using to unscrew the legs of the coffee table while retelling what had happened Tuesday afternoon.  

“He was about to confess,” Seungkwan says slowly and robotically, as if caught in a trance. 

You can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“He was about to confess,” he repeats.

Letting out a major sigh, you hop up onto the dining table, tapping it. “You know, we have to dismantle this too.” 

“He was about to confess!” His sudden shout startles you again. “And where the hell is Woozi when we need him?”

“Probably on his way, as he was when you checked 20 minutes ago?” you say dryly. 

“He needs to get a load of this. I was right!” Seungkwan waves the chair leg in the air triumphantly, far too close to the ceiling for comfort. 

“Dude,” you laugh, “you’re going to scratch the ceiling, put it down!”

Seungkwan pouts. “But this is my victory leg.”

“Tell that to Woozi,” you grin. “I think you should show him the leg, first thing.”

He lights up. “Excellent idea.”

All of a sudden, you hear someone knocking on Seungkwan’s door. Jumping off of the table, you skip across the living room down to the narrow main hallway. Once you reach the door, you crack it open a few inches—as far as the chain link will let you. 

“Woozi, you’re so late!” Your face breaks out into a smile upon seeing your friend. 

“My bad,” Jihoon says with a chuckle. 

“`Y’know, Kwannie has a big surprise for you?”

“I can’t wait,” he says with a sigh. “How bad is the damage?”

“See for yourself.” You take down the chain lock and swing the door fully open with a smile, only to falter at the sight of the one person you thought you’d successfully avoided all day. 

Joshua. 

For there he was. 

“Here to help,” he says shyly, hands folded behind his back. 

You give Jihoon a panicked look. 

Jihoon explains, “I was heading out of the office when I caught him in the hallway. He said he was down to help Seungkwan, and I figured the more, the merrier.”

The sight of Joshua standing in Seungkwan’s doorway makes your stomach drop. It’s like all the tension from earlier has come rushing back in, this time amplified by the unexpectedness of his arrival.

You plaster on a polite smile, though you’re sure it looks more like a grimace. “Great,” you manage to choke out, turning on autopilot to lead him and Jihoon down the hallway.

But inside, your thoughts are spiraling. What is he doing here? Does he know you’ve been avoiding him all day? Did Jihoon tell him anything on the way over?

Your chest tightens as you think about Seungkwan waiting in the living room, blissfully unaware of Joshua’s presence. You can already imagine the chaos—Seungkwan, ever the open book, accidentally blurting out something incriminating.

What if he says something about the coffee shop? What if he mentions the way you couldn’t stop talking about Joshua just now?

You’re half a step ahead of them, your mind racing through ways to keep the situation from unraveling, but drawing nothing but blanks. 

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Joshua. He’s walking casually beside Jihoon, his hands tucked into his pockets, a beanie snug on his head. He looks different, less polished than usual, but still effortlessly himself. And for a moment, you falter.

Because despite your panic, there’s a part of you that’s almost glad he’s here. A part of you that can’t help but wonder what it means that he came at all.

When you reach the living room, you come to a hard stop, frantically making a small X with your arms. 

But Seungkwan has his attention focused on that blasted chair leg, and of course, he immediately opens with: “Guess who has the biggest news of all time! The biggest action since the Great Orange Plaza Incident—”

Cue the obnoxiously loud laughter from you. “Joshua’s here! Say hi!” 

Seungkwan turns to the hallway, where, indeed, Joshua is standing. Shocked, he drops the metal leg, and it announces its contact with the ground through a loud clang. 

Wincing at the sound like earlier, you accidentally shift your body backward into someone behind you. 

“Sorry,” you say, hoping it was Jihoon. 

His arms come up to grasp your waist, holding you steady.

“No worries,” comes Joshua’s voice. 

You shut your eyes, somehow both drowning in embarrassment and burning up at the spot where he’s touched you. 

You quickly step out of his hold, trying not to let your flustered state show. “Right,” you say, clearing your throat. “Let’s go now.”

Joshua chuckles softly, his voice like velvet. “그래, 바로 가자.” Right, let’s go straight away.

Seungkwan, thankfully, is too caught up in his shock to notice the moment, though Jihoon raises a single eyebrow in quiet observation.

As you guide Joshua and Jihoon into the living room, you internally rehearse all the ways you can deflect or redirect the inevitable awkwardness. But before you can settle on anything, Joshua is already rolling up his sleeves. You avert your eyes from his biceps.

“What needs moving?” he asks.

You glance around the room, desperate for something to hand off to him. Your eyes land on the dining table—big, heavy, and far too ambitious for one person to handle. Perfect. “The dining table,” you say, trying to sound casual. “We need to get it downstairs to the lobby for pickup.”

Seungkwan perks up. “Oh, that thing’s a beast. Good luck.”

“I’ll help,” Joshua says immediately, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks at you.

You blink, caught off guard. “Uh, okay. You and Woozi can move it.”

But Jihoon smirks, catching on. “Actually, I just remembered I promised to help Seungkwan with,” his voice trails. “Something else. You’ve got this, right?”

Before you can protest, Jihoon grabs the metal chair leg and joins Seungkwan in the corner, leaving you and Joshua alone with the daunting table.

“Looks like it’s just us,” Joshua says, his teasing smile widening.

You swallow thickly, resigned. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

Together, you begin maneuvering the table toward the hallway. It’s heavy and awkward, and you struggle to find a good grip on the edges.

“Here,” Joshua says, dropping his side of the table and moving closer. His hands brush over yours as he adjusts your grip, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “That should help.”

The contact sends a jolt through you, but you force yourself to focus. “Thanks,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper.

By some miracle, the table fits in the elevator, though the tight space forces you and Joshua closer together. You’re much too aware of how little distance there is between you, the faint scent of his cologne making your heart race even faster.

“This reminds me of Monday morning,” Joshua says suddenly, his voice soft.

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze. What is he talking about? The elevator? The coat? Both?

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

Your stomach twists. “What about it?” you ask cautiously.

His eyes searching yours. “I just,” he hesitates for a moment, before continuing. “I feel like we keep dancing around something. Don’t you?”

Your breath catches, and suddenly the space feels even smaller. “What do you mean?”

Joshua steps just a fraction closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I mean,” he pauses for a second or two before picking up again. “This. Us. I feel like there’s something you’re not saying. And I’m not sure if I should say it first.”

The elevator dings, announcing your arrival at the lobby, but neither of you moves.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Shua, I—”

Before you can finish, the doors slide open, and an older woman waiting outside peers in, her curious gaze snapping you both out of the moment.

“Uh, sorry,” you stammer, quickly stepping out with your end of the table.

Joshua follows, but you can feel his eyes on you, his earlier words hanging heavy in the air.

As the two of you set the table down near the designated pickup area, he leans in slightly, his voice low. “This isn’t over.”

Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest, but you force yourself to nod, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. Okay.”

Even as you head back to Seungkwan’s apartment, your mind is racing with the possibilities of what he might say—and whether you’re ready to hear it.

As you reenter Seungkwan’s apartment, the weight of Joshua’s words hangs like a thick fog in the air. It’s almost suffocating, the way your heart beats erratically at the thought of what he might say next. 

You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting Joshua to be right behind you, but he's still out by the lobby. The sound of Seungkwan and Jihoon’s voices floats down the hallway as they continue their discussion, oblivious to the tension that’s spiraling in your chest.

You step inside, but you can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to change. Joshua’s words—“This isn’t over”—echo in your mind, repeating with every beat of your heart. What did he mean? What does he expect?

“Everything okay?” Seungkwan calls from the living room, looking up with a raised brow as you walk in.

“Yeah,” you chirp, trying to act normal, but your voice comes out too high.

He narrows his eyes. “You sure? You look a little off. Everything go well?” It’s unsaid, but you know there’s a “with Joshua” attached to the end of his sentence.

You force a smile, but it’s shaky at best. “Yeah, the table's gone now.” You can’t tell him. Not yet. Not with the weight of Joshua’s unspoken words still pressing against your chest.

Seungkwan studies you for a moment, his gaze flickering toward the hallway. “I’ll take your word for it. So, you two, huh?”

Your eyes widen involuntarily, and you try to laugh it off. “아니, 아니! 그런거 아니야, it’s really not like that.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure. Anyway, me and Jihoon are going to go to the bar. Want to come?”

The offer hangs in the air, and you realize, suddenly, that it’s the perfect distraction. You need space from your own thoughts. You need to calm your racing heart. Maybe getting out of here will help.

“I’ll go,” you blurt, before you can second-guess yourself. “Haven’t gone weekday drinking in a while. Let me just grab my bag.”

Seungkwan gives you a knowing look but says nothing more. As you step into the hallway to grab your bag off a high-hanging hook, your mind is still whirling with the unanswered questions about Joshua. 

Walking further down the hallway, you find Seungkwan and Joshua standing near Jihoon. 

Jihoon’s already at the door, his hand on the handle. “Come on, let’s go. I need some drinks in my system after today.”

You nod, attempting to shove your thoughts away for the night. The cool air outside greets you, and the cacophony of the city feels like a welcome distraction. As you make your way to the bar, Seungkwan and Jihoon immediately dive into their usual banter, but your mind is elsewhere. You keep glancing over at Joshua, who seems uncharacteristically quiet tonight, his usually playful energy subdued.

By the time you reach the bar and order drinks, you’re beginning to relax. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the fact that you don’t have to think about what’s going on between you and Joshua, but you can’t help but feel like you’re walking a thin line between tension and relief.

But as the night goes on, Seungkwan and Jihoon quickly fall into drunken antics, leaving you and Joshua alone on the quieter side of the bar. The air between you both is thick, like an invisible thread is pulling you closer, yet neither of you dares to speak.

You fiddle with your glass, wondering if you should speak up first. You only have so much courage, though. 

Thankfully, Joshua clears his throat, his voice low. “넌 좀,” he hesitates for a bit, before deciding to call you out, “조용한데?” 

Well, it’s no secret that you’re being quiet. He was, too, at least until now.

You glance up, meeting his gaze for the first time since earlier. His eyes are intense, his lips pulled into that soft, half-smile you know and adore.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hang between you like a dare.

Joshua leans in just slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. “What part?”

Your heart races, but you hold his gaze. “About how this isn’t over?”

He’s quiet for a beat, then smiles—just a little. “I meant what I said.”

And in that moment, you realize you’re in way deeper than you thought.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest, like a stone sinking deep into water. You want to ask him more, to press him, to demand answers, but the words feel trapped in your throat. Instead, you look away, fidgeting with the rim of your glass, your fingers tracing the condensation. The alcohol has started to mellow your nerves, but the tension still hovers in the air between you two, thick and almost palpable.

“You’ve been quiet too,” you manage to say, keeping your voice steady despite the jittery feeling in your stomach. “What’s on your mind?”

Joshua doesn’t answer right away, his gaze flickering toward the noisy group in the corner where Seungkwan and Jihoon are laughing too loudly, practically leaning on each other for support. The laughter echoes in the background, a sharp contrast to the quiet bubble that has formed around you and Joshua. 

It’s the kind of moment that feels too intimate, too close to the edge of something that could change everything.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, and his voice is soft, thoughtful. “I guess I’m trying to figure out if you’re really as clueless as you act, or if you’re just pretending.” His eyes meet yours, and there's something almost vulnerable in his gaze, a flicker of hesitation that’s rare for him.

You feel your heart skip a beat, caught off guard by the question. “Clueless?” You repeat, the word tasting strange on your tongue. “I’m not clueless.”

“그래? Are you sure about that?” he asks, his smile barely there, his tone teasing but with an edge of something else—something deeper.

You narrow your eyes, a little irritated by how easily he toys with you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and then immediately regret it. It sounds too defensive, too much like you’re trying to cover something up.

Joshua leans in slightly, his expression serious now, no longer playful. “I think you do. I think you’re scared.” His voice drops, barely above a whisper, but it lands like a truth you can’t deny. “You’re scared of what might happen if you admit what you feel.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The world feels like it slows down, the noise of the bar fading into the background as his words settle in your mind. The truth in them stings, and you don’t know how to respond. 

He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. 

Not yet. 

Not to him.

Before you can say anything, Seungkwan stumbles over, dragging Jihoon along with him. “You two are too quiet,” Seungkwan says with a grin, clearly tipsy. “What’s going on here? Trying to plot against us?”

Joshua straightens up quickly, his smile returning to its usual playful, disarming self. “Nothing like that, we were just talking,” he replies, his voice smooth and easy.

You take a deep breath, trying to push the moment away, but the tension still lingers in your chest. You force a smile, though it feels weak. “Yeah, just talking.”

Jihoon gives you both a sideways look, too drunk to notice the underlying current between you and Joshua. “You two really are something, huh?”

Seungkwan laughs, waving a hand as if dismissing Jihoon’s comment. “Yeah, yeah, don’t mind them. They’re just having a little ‘moment,’” he says, emphasizing the last word with air quotes.

You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Contrary to Seungkwan’s comment, the moment’s long gone now, robbed by the chaos of their antics. But you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted, that you and Joshua are standing on the edge of something—something both terrifying and irresistible.

And for the first time, you decide that you’re ready to see where it leads.

────୨ৎ──── Thursday

You wake up on Thursday with a start, the events from last night already feeling faraway. Joshua had dropped you off, and you had spent most of the night restlessly thinking of him, going over how to confess.  

The bright morning light filters through the blinds, causing you to squint at the time on your alarm clock. It’s much earlier than you’d usually get up. You fight the urge to go back to sleep.

With resolve, you push yourself up off your bed and run through your morning routine with extra care. And by the time your last alarm rings, you’re ready to tell him. 

You walk over to the front door, waiting for the telltale signs of movement coming from the apartment next door. Only, you hear nothing. Not even footsteps shuffling around. 

Your elevator ride is silent. Your bus ride is silent. 

Joshua had left before you’d even woken up—and you’d woken up pretty damn early—and his absence only made you more aware of the pressing silence between the two of you. 

When you reach your cubicle, your eyes graze over the desk repeatedly, finding something is wrong.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” Jihoon asks from the cubicle next to you.

“Nothing.” Everything. 

You stare at the spot where Joshua puts a cup of coffee from the cafe next door every day. It’s empty. 

“설마,” you whisper. No way. Did he decide to drop you because you didn’t answer him? But what else could explain his radio silence? You haven’t gone to work alone in over a month. 

“설마 what?” Seungkwan asks, dropping into his office chair to the left of you at 9 on the dot.

When you don’t answer, he asks Jihoon, “What’s going on over here?”

Jihoon shrugs. “Probably drama with You Know Who.”

“Oh,” he says, and the two of them drop it. 

Before you know it, the clock has hit 5pm, and you’ve spent the entire workday soullessly typing on your keyboard, lifting your head up every time you’ve seen movement in the room. Only, the man you were looking for was nowhere to be seen. 

You miss the stolen glances and bright smiles you used to exchange. The silence had been stifling. You really did want to talk to him, to clear the air today, but he just never showed. Heart sinking, you pack up your bag and put on your coat. You stall for a moment remembering how he’d given you his coat just a few days prior. Did he really decide to give up because you weren’t responding well?

The bus ride back to your apartment is silent, but your head is full of speculative thoughts. When the driver announces your stop, your heart settles into a newfound determination. 

Maybe he could let go, but you can’t. You won’t let him go.

“I’ll just barge in! Say my piece, then let him talk,” you mumble under your breath, pushing the lobby doors open.

Is it a good plan? You aren’t sure, but hopefully he’d forgive you for being hesitant for so long. You honestly don’t know how he did it—how he was able to stand your wishy-washiness?

Eyes tracing the ground, you make a beeline for the elevator, continuing your whispers. “And what am I going to say? God, I need a good opening line. Something like, please please take me back? Actually, we were never dating, so I guess that doesn’t make sense. Please please like me back? Is that too desperate? Well, I am desperate, so—”

Out of the corner, you see the elevator beginning to close.

“Hold the doors, please!” you shout, running as fast as you can. Speed is of the essence, so you can confront him as soon as possible.

You make it across half the lobby in record time, panting as you enter the elevator. 

“Thank,” you say in between breaths, hands on your knees, “you—”

When you look up, your heart stops.

Joshua Hong. Dressed dapper in an all black suit and carrying, of all things, a briefcase?

“Shua?” you say breathlessly, immediately straightening.

Joshua looks down, his usual calm expression faltering for just a second when he sees you out of breath. For a moment, the two of you simply stand there in silence, the elevator’s gentle hum filling the space between you.

“Where were you?” you ask, your voice quieter than you'd intended, a hint of nervousness creeping in despite your earlier determination.

Joshua clears his throat, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Director Chun had me accompany him to the Lee meeting. You?” he asks, his gaze softening as he watches you catch your breath.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry. The reality of the situation hits you hard. 

This was it. 

This was the moment. 

But now that you’re face to face with him, you’re unsure of what to say. You should’ve prepared a real speech, practiced your words properly. Instead, the dreaded silence lingers.

“I,” your voice trails off. “I just—” You let out a shaky breath, then shake your head as if to clear the mess of thoughts swirling inside. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About things. About us.”

Joshua tilts his head slightly, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. “About us?”

You nod, trying to steady your breath. The elevator seems to be going slower than usual, as if the universe itself is giving you more time to process, to speak. You feel a strange mix of nerves and determination pushing you forward.

“I didn’t handle things right. I was,” you pause for a moment, carefully choosing your next words. “Unsure. Confused. And I thought maybe if I stayed quiet, I’d be able to ignore everything. But I can’t,” you say, the words finally coming out in a rush. “I can’t ignore you. I don’t want to.”

Joshua’s eyes soften, his posture shifting, his briefcase clutched tightly in his hands. “You’re not the only one who’s been confused,” he admits, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “I didn’t know what to do either, but I couldn’t let you slip away without at least trying. I care about you. A lot.”

The elevator jerks suddenly, and you both look up in surprise as the lights flicker. A loud noise rings through the space, and with a groan, the elevator comes to an abrupt halt. You both freeze, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“Shit,” you gasp, instinctively taking a step back from the elevator doors, but your foot catches in a brief moment of panic, and before you know it, you’re pulled toward Joshua.

He catches you effortlessly, his hand impossibly warm at your back, steadying you as you stumble. “괜찮아?” His voice is gentle but concerned. 

You can’t help but laugh nervously, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stand there, him holding you in his arms, your heart still racing from the shock. Then you both realize the situation. No Wi-Fi. No way to call for help. Just the two of you, stuck in this tiny box, the tension thick in the air. The sound of your heavy breathing fills the silence as the elevator remains motionless.

Joshua clears his throat, his voice teasing again. “Well, if you think about it, this isn’t that new.”

In response, you lightly laugh, thinking back to all the times throughout the week where he's kept you steady. The you of Monday morning never would have thought you’d be in this position now, not to mention the you of two months ago.

You glance up at him, mind still racing. The unexpected turn of events had thrust you into a corner. And yet, in some strange way, you felt it was just the kind of moment the two of you needed. 

Alone. 

No distractions. 

No running away.

“Well, at least we have some time to talk now, huh?” you say with a small, tentative smile.

Joshua meets your gaze, his eyes full of understanding. “Yeah. Looks like we do.”

And for the first time in days, the silence doesn’t feel suffocating. Instead, it feels like an opportunity, a moment to finally clear the air.

────୨ৎ──── Friday

You’ve been in the elevator for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. Somehow, conversation just flows.

“I liked you first,” you find yourself saying, voice barely above a whisper as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“그래?” comes Joshua’s soft reply, so close that you can feel the vibrations in his chest. Really? 

You can’t believe he even has to ask. Yes, really. You were so obvious about it. So affected by him that you couldn’t even look at the stuffed bunny he’d gotten you on Sunday, reminded of his soft, kind eyes. 

So you nod, “Mm-hm.” 

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, your body still adjusting to the peaceful rhythm of being near him. You’d been thinking about this for the longest time, but now it feels so natural, so certain, and you can’t help but regret all the time you’d spent secretly pining over him. God, you’d even asked him to stop being so nice to you out of pure desperation. Who does that?

“Since when?” His voice is smooth, warm, like a soft melody, and you can’t help but feel drowsy with the way it lulls you into comfort.

You pause, eyes drifting to the floor of the elevator as you try to gather your thoughts. “Since when?” you repeat, the memory taking you back.

It was a chaotic day, the kind of day where everything felt so loud and full of people. You were at that welcome party for the new transfer—Joshua—but it had been too overwhelming. So, you’d slipped away, finding solace in the quiet of the cafe next door. You’d gotten a coffee to-go, and you sat outside on a bench, letting the world pass you by as you listened to your audiobook. That was your kind of perfect Saturday.

You never saw him that day.

But you did see him a week later, in the hallway of your apartment building. You’d just locked your door, ready to head out when you noticed the man next door fumbling with his own keys. His moving process had seemed slow, but that day, you finally got to exchange quick introductions before stepping into the elevator together. And somehow, in that brief exchange, you found yourself already falling, the way his laugh filled the space between you, the way you both laughed at the coincidences stacking up—the apartment, the floor, the building, the department. It was electric, the start of something special. 

You glance up at him now, still leaning against his shoulder. “When we first met, in the hallway,” you finally say, voice soft.

Joshua smiles, a glint of fondness in his eyes. “That was when we first met?”

You furrow your brows, confused. “Wasn’t it?”

Joshua laughs quietly, the sound like a comforting hum in the otherwise still elevator. “I remember differently,” he says, poking your cheek gently.

You tilt your head. “If not the hallway, what was it?”

“The first day I came here, sweets,” he says, his fingers brushing a lock of your hair from your face.

Your mind races, wondering if you’ve forgotten an important memory. “But we didn’t meet, did we?”

Joshua hums, the kind of hum that carries a story behind it. “I guess you didn’t see me, but I saw you.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “When?”

He leans back slightly, eyes distant as if replaying the scene in his head. “I remember being bombarded by all the office workers. God, it was so chaotic. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out, so I said some BS excuse about needing a drink.” He chuckles softly, then his expression shifts, softer now. “I went to the drink station by the window, grabbed whatever they had, and just stared out. I was wondering how long I could hide before it was socially acceptable to go home, when I saw you.”

You shift, intrigued by his words.

“You sat outside on the bench. You weren’t even aware of the crowd inside, just focused on,” he pauses, thinking of the right word, before continuing, “Existing? Listening to something, I guess. I watched you for a while. You were so still, so peaceful in the middle of all that noise. It made me stop and think. I’ve never really done that before. I’ve always been in ‘go, go, go’ mode. But there you were, just being, and I don’t know. I think that’s when I started thinking about you.”

His words settle over you like a blanket, warm and unexpected.

“I decided then to keep giving you coffee after that,” Joshua adds with a shrug. “You’re my elevator to my small enlightenment, if you will. You made me slow down, sweets.”

At that, your heart flutters in your chest. “I never knew,” you murmur. “I thought you were just nice to everyone. All this time, you’ve been looking at me like I’ve been looking at you.”

Joshua smiles softly, his fingers brushing against yours. “I’ve been thinking about you for a lot longer than you’ve been thinking of me.”

“Only a week!” you protest. 

Joshua’s eyes shine as he looks at you, crinkling into crescents. His hands steadily clasp yours, thumb rubbing against the back of your left hand. “Still think I’m too nice?”

“No,” you say, burying your face in his chest. “Keep being nice to me.”

When the elevator finally dings, and you can hear firefighters shouting things past the doors, it’s a few minutes past 12am. But neither of you moves, content in making up for lost time late into the night. 

Masterlist

Author's Note: yes they were stuck in an elevator for like 7 hours from thurs after work to midnight, 내 마음이야

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[jjjjeonww]

hong joshua - "Dear, Diary. Damn my academic rival."

genre - romance! ~~in which you've seen joshua as your academic rival for years, but lets see how he sees you in his perspective. (just wanted to switch it up a bit heh) a/n: this is a little thank you for 108 followers hehe<3!! also, this is a fic requested by the one and only, @hanniescookie! you keep coming up with amazing ideas and requests my angel, and im always happy and always honoured to complete them and be the person who receives them <3 ( @wonkierideul, here's your tag my lovie! you've had a tiring day, take a break and rest up. a junhui fic will be coming soon, just for you🤍)

(remember, this is all in joshua's pov!) 28th December 2024 Dear Diary, Today I felt so stupid. Why? I couldn't take my eyes off Y/n as she pored over the latest batch of data, her brows were furrowed in concentration. The flickering lamplight casted shadows across her face, it highlighted the curve of her cheekbones. Honestly, to me, Y/n was a vision of focus and intellect, a force to be reckoned with. And damn if she didn't look gorgeous in the process.

When she glanced up and caught me staring, a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was a rare sight, that smile... but it was all the more devastating for its infrequency. I felt my heart stutter in my chest, my breath hitched slightly as I drank in the sight of her.

"You've got that look again," I said. I have no idea how, or why my voice came out more huskily than I intended. I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "Like when Tom thinks he can finally eat Jerry. What are you so smug about?"

I saw her smile widening, a glint of mischief appeared in her eyes. "I'm not smug," she said, and I know I heard the stupid note of false innocence in her tone. "I'm just...satisfied with my progress." Note by Joshua: (As if she could do any better than me. Well, she did do better than me this time. Won't let it happen the next!)

5th January 2025 Dear Diary, Today we got our test results. Obviously I looked around to find Y/n and to see her reaction to her grade, only to find her right next to me, holding up her test results, the paper rustled softly in her hand. I leaned forward to see, my glasses slipping down my nose as I squinted at the numbers. My jaw clenched as I took in the scores - hers were higher than mine, by a margin that made my gut twist with reluctant admiration.

"What?" I scoffed, pushing my glasses back up. "You've beaten me again?" I leaned back in my chair, and crossed my arms over my chest. "Damn you Y/n. Next time... don't get too comfortable. I'm not going to let you stay ahead for long." Her smile turned into a full-blown grin, those eyes... they sparkled with that familiar competitive fire. "I wouldn't expect anything less," she said, a note of challenge in her voice. "But don't worry, Joshua. I have no intention of making this easy for you. I want to see you push yourself, to reach for even greater heights."

I felt a surge of determination, a fierce need to prove myself and rise to her challenge. But beneath that, I felt something else, something softer and more intense. A longing to see that smile on her face again and to keep this fire alive. Note by Joshua: (I guess I got another longing; For her to stop calling me by my name and instead call me 'hers'. And I'm cringing at my own joke haha! until next time diary!) 13th January 2025 Dear Diary, The days have turned into weeks, and my isolation and forced collaboration with Y/n only seemed to intensify the charged atmosphere between us. We clashed over theories and methods, our voices raised in heated debate as we paced the confines of the cabin. The air grew thick with tension, but it was a different kind of tension than before. There was an undercurrent of something else, something that made my skin prickle and my heart race.

Note by Joshua: (Today's note of 'love' was a short one. Guess our isolation was bigger than our forced proximity.) 27th January 2025 Dear Diary, Something happened this evening. As I was reviewing our notes by the flickering fireplace, I glanced up to see Y/n staring at the flames, a distant look on her face. She looked gorgeous in the firefight, shadows dancing across her delicate features and highlighting the curve of her lips. I found myself wondering what she was thinking about, what dreams or fantasies played behind those captivating eyes.

"You know," I said softly, to me, my voice was barely audible over the crackling of the flames, "sometimes I wonder what goes on in that brilliant mind of yours."

And she turned to face me, a small smile played at the corners of her mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

I felt a smirk tug at my own lips, a hint of playfulness entering my voice. "I think about it more than I should," I admitted, my gaze locked with hers. "Especially when you look at me like that."

Her smile widened, a soft blush coloured her cheeks. "Like what?" she asked, a note of innocence in her voice belied by the heat in her eyes.

I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, my eyes never leaving hers. "Like you're trying to figure me out," I murmured. "Like you're seeing right through me, past all the bravado and the competition, to the heart of who I am."

I watched how her breath hitched, and how she swallowed hard. "Maybe I am," she whispered, her voice was barely audible. "Maybe I want to know what makes you tick, Joshua. What drives you, what you dream about, what you...want."

I felt my heart pound in my chest, a fierce longing surging through me. I wanted to tell her everything, to lay bare the secrets of my soul and hope that she would do the same. But I held back, I didn't want to scare her off. Note by Joshua: (Maybe next time, we'll see what'll unfold for me and Y/n. But hey, at least today's 'love' note was a long one right?)

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Spooky Season | Halloween Event 2024

Hidden Secrets | Joshua

🧡 Pairing: Serial Killer!Joshua Hong x Oblivious-Wife!Reader.

🖤 Requested by: anon

🧡 Prompt: 13 - There's a killer on the loose. It just so happens to be Readers loving husband.

🖤 Warnings: Murder, serial murders, 'psychopathy gene' is mentioned, there's a silly woman who thinks she can come between the couple. this is loosely based on the start of the first episode of the k-drama Mouse. Watch it if you haven't already, I loved it, especially the first half of the series.

🧡 Word Count: 1,885

🖤 Taglist: Open. Send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form. Please note that the halloween event taglist is included in the general taglist.

Spooky Season 2024 Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Joshua stands at his front door, his face void of any emotion as he takes a moment to himself before putting on a cheerful smile and entering the home he shares with his pregnant wife.  

“Hi, honey,” he beams, wrapping her in a warm embrace and planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. “How was your day? I hope the little one didn’t give you too much trouble.” He places a hand on her belly, feeling the baby shift inside. With just three weeks to go until the due date, the little guy has been more active than ever.  

“It was good! He’s been a little angel,” she replies with a smile. “Just really active. I think he’s – did you get hurt today?” She asks noticing a red mark on his shirt collar and leans in for a closer look.  

He glances down at the spot she’s inspecting. “Oh, it’s nothing, just a little nosebleed,” he says casually, thinking to himself, ‘I did it again.’ “Really, it’s nothing to worry about,” he reassures her with a soft smile. He takes her hand, which is still on his collar, and kisses her back of her fingers softly. “I’m going to take a shower now.”  

“I’ll warm up some food for you,” she replies, her cheeks flushing from his sweet gesture. He gives her another kiss before heading to the bathroom while she moves to the kitchen.  

Once inside the bathroom, Joshua turns on the shower and removes his shirt, the small blood stain capturing his eye. Standing in front of the mirror, his thoughts drift back to earlier in the night.  

“Just a little nosebleed,” he mutters to himself, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at his own carelessness. He can’t get caught now, not when Y/N’s so close to having his child. The thought of what she might do, especially to his offspring, if she discovers the truth about him sends a shiver down his spine. 

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the TV in the living room hums softly as Y/N stirs the soup she prepared for dinner. She’s only half-listening until a breaking news alert interrupts her thoughts. Another body has been found in the nearby park.  

“Authorities have not confirmed if this murder is connected to the four serial killings that have occurred in the last three months. Residents are advised to stay safe, remain vigilant, and report any suspicious behavior.”  

Y/N’s heart races as she listens to the news. A chill runs through her, and she can’t shake the thought of moving to a safer neighborhood, not wanting to bring her child into a place where a serial killer is on the loose.  

“What are you watching?” Joshua asks, entering the kitchen with a towel around his neck, his hair still damp from the shower. He looks relaxed, as if the weight his job doesn’t rest on his shoulders anymore. 

“They found another body,” she replies, her voice tense.  

He glances at the TV, his back to her, a sinister smile creeping onto his face as he listens to the reporter’s monotone voice go on about the very little information that they have right now. “Oh, that’s terrible,” he says, his voice filled with faux sympathy and sadness. “Maybe it’s time for us to move,” he adds, as if he can read her thoughts, turning to face her. 

Switching off the stove, she ladles some soup into a bowl for him. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. It doesn’t feel safe here anymore.” 

“You’re right,” he agrees, taking the bowl from her. After grabbing some utensils, he sits at the table. “I’m working late again tomorrow but I’ll have Saturday off so we can start looking for a new house outside the area then.” 

“You’re working late again tomorrow?” she asks, her voice filled with confusion and something he hasn’t heard before, unsureness.  

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “Do we have something planned?” 

“No,” she shakes her head. “Duri called earlier, something about needing a ride to and from work tomorrow, something about her car being serviced. She thought since you finish and start at the same time and that she lives on the way to work, that she would ask you for a ride,” she explains as she sits in the chair across from him. Y/N had been surprised when her husband’s new co-worker called their home. She was pretty sure only his superiors had their home phone number. “Apparently you were supposed to give her a ride home today but left without her.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. “She never asked me for a ride home today and I will never be giving her a ride anywhere. She lives on the other side of town,” he tries to assure her but the last part is a lie. Duri lives four blocks from them. “Did she try to imply anything?” he asks his wife, wanting to know why she sounded so unsure. 

She nods. “Her whole tone was smug, like the cat that caught the canary. It just didn’t sound genuine.” 

“You trust me right,” he asks. 

She nods again, fiddling with his fingers. “Of course, I do,” she replies, but the slight tremor in her voice betrays her lingering worries. Being heavily pregnant brought about her insecurities about whether Joshua still finds her attractive and still sees her as the woman he fell in love with. It's made worse when a younger more attractive woman has her sights set on her husband and planting seeds of doubt in her mind. 

“Look, Duri, is mad that I made it known that I am a happily married man who loves his beautiful, smart and loving wife more than anything in this world," he states, his voice firm yet loving and soft. He leans closer, his gaze unwavering, as if to make sure she can see the truth in his words. “And I’m not about to risk what we have for some girl who won't take a hint and already has a boyfriend.” ‘I might be a killer but I’d never cheat on you,’ his voice echoes in his mind. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin, “You are everything to me, Y/N. No one can come between us. I want you to remember that.” 

As he speaks, he watches her expression shift, the tension in her shoulders easing. “I wasn’t doubting you,” she admits. “I’m sorry for letting my insecurities get the better of me.” 

“I’m sorry that Duri put them there,” he sighs, his voice sounding a little angry. “I’ll talks to her tomorrow and make sure she never does it again,” he continues as an image of him killing her flashes in her mind. “Until then, is there anything I can do for you.” 

“A foot massage would be nice,” she smiles. “But I’m also out of the chocolate ice cream mochi’s that I love and the convenience store that we usually go to for them is all out.”  

"Do you want me to go find you some?" he asks, finishing his soup. 

"If you don't mind," she says standing up from the chair and picks up his bowl and utensils, taking them to the sink.  

Joshua stands up, following her and takes them from his hand. "I'll go once I've finished cleaning the dishes. You go sit down, put your feet up and put something fun and happy on. I don't want you or our boy listening to talks of dead bodies and serial killers, okay?" 

Not arguing with him, she exits the kitchen and walks into the living room, leaving him to clean his dishes. She sits down on the couch and starts flicking through the channels and eventually stops on a variety show she enjoys watching. 

Once the dishes are washed, dried and put away, Joshua grabs his coat and gives Y/N a quick peck on the lips on his way out the door. On his search to chocolate ice cream mochi, he decides to take a detour, driving the few blocks to Duri’s home. He parks a street away, puts on his ball cap, making sure to hide his face and makes his way to the apartment complex his co-worker lives in with her boyfriend. 

As he approaches the building, his mind races with thoughts of his earlier conversation with Y/N. Duri had always been a pain in his side. He can't shake the feeling of irritation that bubbles beneath the surface. He’s always prided himself on being the one who can handle any situation without resorting to anger. But the idea of her planting seeds of doubt in his wife’s mind triggers a part of him that he cannot ignore. 

He steps into the lobby of the apartment complex and makes his way to the elevator, thankful for his curiosity in finding out where she lived just in case it came to this.  

The elevator doors slide open with a soft ding, and he steps inside, pressing the button for Duri's floor. As the elevator ascends, he takes a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. He thinks about his unborn child and wonders if he will turn out just like him. Will he be born with the killer instinct, the so-called “psychopathy gene” or will he be weak and easily manipulated like his mother. 

The elevator dings again, and the doors slide open on Duri's floor. Joshua steps into the dimly lit corridor, his determination solidifying as he pushes thoughts of his son and wife aside. He approaches Duri's apartment door, retrieves the hammer from his bag, and knocks firmly. As soon as the door swings open to reveal Duri, he swings the hammer, sending her stumbling backward. 

The shock on her face is almost satisfying, a fleeting moment of triumph that quickly dissipates as he steps inside, closing the door behind him with his foot before he swings the hammer, hitting her over and over again. 

It’s almost an hour later when Joshua walks back through the front door of his home. The first thing he sees as he steps into the living room is Y/N, curled up a sleep on the couch, the TV playing lowly in the background. The glow of the screen casts gentle shadows across her face, illuminating her innocence.  

He quietly moves into the kitchen, placing the chocolate ice cream mochi in the freezer and walks back to his wife. Crouching down beside her, he gently places his hand on her belly, once again feeling his son moving around inside her. 

Y/N stirs slightly, her eyelids fluttering as she begins to wake. He forces a smile once again. “Hey, love,” he whispers, his voice soft and loving. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ll be more comfortable there.”  

“Did you find the mochi ice cream?” she asks as he helps her up from the couch and guides her to their bedroom. 

“It took me an hour but it’s in the freezer, ready for you to eat tomorrow,” he tells her, helping her into bed. 

She smiles, her eyes closing as soon as her head hits the pillow, heavy with sleep. “I love you.” 

He kisses her forehead, “I love you, too.” 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

@rainydayteacups - @staytiny2000 - @forever-atiny - @shuaserendipity95 - @do-you-remember-summer-127

@catzachvsvt - @lemur46 - @ateez-atiny380 - @lovrehani - @lixisoul99

@satoruifys

[woozgotdaruby]

"fear of loving you"

hong joshua x you. joshua wants to love you, and you say you reciprocate the feeling. but do you really? - angst! wc - 355 a/n: oka first angst post... let's see how well it goes... ALSO THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE I RECEIVED ON MY FIRST POST? that's crazy ily all

your heart raced as you gazed into joshua's conflicted eyes, your voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion. "why don't you want to love me, shua?" you whispered, your words hanging heavy in the charged air between them.

joshua's eyes flickered with a tempest of feelings, a silent war raging within him. he swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. when he finally spoke, his voice was a low, anguished rasp.

"because, loving you... it means i might have to lose something irreplaceable." he confessed, his hand tightening on your cheek. "and i don't think i'm strong enough to survive that kind of pain. the pain of losing you."

he closed his eyes, the memory of their shared tragedy threatening to engulf him. the thought of opening his heart to you, of loving you with every fiber of his being, it was fate. but what if he lost you? ... it was a fate too cruel to contemplate.

joshua's breath came in short, ragged gasps as he fought to maintain his composure. "you're everything to me, y/n," he whispered hoarsely. "my sun, my moon, my entire world. and the idea of losing you, of existing in a universe where you don't belong to me... it's a hell i just really can't bear to imagine."

he opened his eyes, the depths of his terror and longing laid bare. "i'm not strong enough to lose you. to lose us." he vowed, his voice breaking on the last word. "so please, don't ask me to risk my heart. not when you're flirting with other guys in front of me."

you froze. "t-those guys didn't mean anything..."

he chuckled. bitterly. "but if we weren't talking right now. you would be all over them. i know the drill y/n. the way you break up with your boyfriend, come crying to me, then a few months later, mere moments after i confess everything to you - you don't care. there's not a single thought in your head as you seduce other men."

"i'm sorry shua.... please. i really am."

"whatever y/n."

[hwashua-luv]

A Moment of Clarity

The city lights twinkled below, and you just finished typing up the final report for the day. Most everyone had already left the office, with the exception of the dull murmurs of certain voices that sometimes lurched out from some far corner of the building. Past 8 PM, you were now resolved to the quiet rhythm of your keyboard and the occasional sip from the now-cold cup of coffee.

Just as you had begun to hit "send" on the final email, the door to your office creaked open. You jerked your head up somewhat startled, to see Joshua Hong, the CEO of the company, standing in the doorway. His suit was tailored, plain, and crisp, his tie still tightly knotted. Despite the formality in his appearance, his eyes were warm as they met yours.

"Working late again?" Joshua's voice was smooth, carrying a thread of amusement. He stepped further into the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click.

You sat up a little straighter in your chair, suddenly feeling very aware of how disheveled you must look. "Mr. Hong, I didn't realize you'd still be here."

Joshua laughed softly and crossed the room with such grace it seemed hardly an effort. "Joshua, please. It's just me. Besides, I had some papers to review and thought I'd check on my favourite secretary."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his compliment. "I'm just finishing up some reports. I didn't mean to keep you."

He waved off your concern with a casual gesture. "Nonsense. I enjoy the company."

As he sat in the chair across from your desk, you could feel the energy shifting. It was the look in his eyes that was somehow not professional; it was very personal. Those late hours spent at the office had been close to many times ending in personal conversations rather than work-related. That was when you'd started to appreciate Joshua's kindness and insight.

"So, how was your day?" you asked, trying to lighten things up despite the undeniable tension in the room.

Joshua's eyes softened as he regarded you. "Busy but not without its moments of clarity. How about yours?"

You hesitated, looking back at the stacks of paperwork and the blinking cursor on your screen. "It's been ... intense. But I'm almost done."

Joshua leaned forward slightly, his face in thought. "Listen, I really do appreciate how hard you work. That doesn't go unobserved, okay?"

His words held further meaning tonight, but you had the feeling you'd heard this before. You raised your head to meet his gaze, looking for the truth behind the words. "Thank you, Joshua. I really appreciate that."

It was held in that silence—a moment filled with unstated understanding. Joshua's eyes settled onto yours, and your heart picked up pace. It was weird, as if time had thunked to standstill, and the professional distance that had always been there was suddenly getting blurred.

Joshua got to his feet and went to the window, looking out over the city. "Sometimes, I wonder if all this—" he gestured broadly at the skyline "—is worth it."

You went to stand beside him at the window. The city lights danced in your eyes, illuminating soft reflections on your faces. "It is. But only if you have people who believe in what you're doing."

Joshua turned his head just a little to the side, but he still watched the horizon. "And I do. People like you."

The weight of his words settled into your silence. You had always looked up to Joshua's commitment and drive, but tonight, it felt like you saw a different side of his vulnerability.

"Do you ever feel like, um, needing to stop for a bit?" you asked softly, your voice barely audible.

Joshua finally turned to face you; his expression was earnest. "I think about it often. But it's hard to step back when you are so invested."

You nodded in comprehension. It was a struggle you knew well, juggling the call of duty with the need for personal time. Shared sense of sacrifice.

Without thinking, you put a hand on his arm. The reassurance in the gesture was unmistakable. His eyes moved down to your hand briefly before looking back up into your eyes. The connection between you two was electric, almost as though the air around you was charged with an unsaid tension.

Joshua's hand slowly covered yours, and there you were, standing, both of you equally silent, acknowledging the sudden shift in your relationship. The professional distance that had always kept you apart was a faint memory now.

He inclined a little, his breath warm against your cheek. "Is it wrong to want something more... personal?"

Your breath caught in your throat, and only a soft "No, not at all" managed to come out.

He bridged the space between you with a gentle, deliberate motion. His lips met yours in a tender, yet intense, kiss—a kiss saturated with all of the unspoken words and emotions that had grown over time. It was this clear to both of you: whatever it was that you shared went beyond the confines of professional roles.

The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself melt into the embrace; your heart pounded with excitement and uncertainty. This was a kiss pregnant with promise, possibility—the promise of a different kind of future than what one had envisioned.When the kiss finally broke, you both pulled back some and pressed your foreheads together.

Joshua's eyes held yours before he finally spoke again. "I've wanted to tell you this for a long time."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "I'm glad you did."

Joshua's fingers just barely touched your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you hadn't known had fallen. "I'm so glad. It's been so much through these past years, and I wouldn't want it any other way.

The office settled into silence, but this time it was a comfortable silence, the feeling of something just having restarted. You kind of felt at peace just standing there wrapped in his arms, Joshua's arms.

The future was uncertain, but for now, you were content to just be in this moment—the place of clarity and connection that was so long overdue. Joshua's presence reassured you that, among the chaos, in the middle, right amidst the chaos, it is always possible for something beautiful to exist.

And as both of you stared at those city lights again, you knew that whatever was bound to happen, you would confront it together.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

Word count: 1055

Author's note: The same one-shot has been posted on Wattpad (hwashua-luv). Requests are also open <3

All rights reserved. © 2024 hwashua-luv

All works written by me do not copy, translate or repost my works without my given consent.

[hoshifighting]

Seventeen's reaction when reader stops breathing during orgasm

Seungcheol feels you go completely still beneath him, he’d stop everything he’s doing, his eyes wide with panic. "hey, are you okay?" he’d ask urgently, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

he slowed his movements just enough to give you a moment to catch your breath, his eyes never leaving your face. his hand comes up to gently stroke your cheek.

as your face contorts in pleasure and you tighten around him, he realizes what's happening. he was worried but also intensely turned on by the raw, uncontrolled reaction you were having.

a grin spreads across his face as he watches your blissed-out expression, the realization dawning on him that he's fucking you too good. "mhmm look at you," he chuckles, his tone teasing but relieved. "couldn't handle all of this, huh?" he continues to thrust into you, enjoying the way your body responds to him.

Jeonghan would be startled, his playful demeanor instantly replaced with concern as he feels you stop breathing. he’d pause immediately, his eyes searching your face for any signs of distress. "baby, breathe for me," he’d urge softly, his fingers brushing your hair back from your forehead.

the moment you start breathing again, he’d let out a relieved sigh. he slows down just enough to prolong your pleasure, whispering dirty praises in your ear about how beautifully you cum for him.

Joshua would be immediately alarmed, panicking as he realizes you’re not breathing. "oh my god, are you okay?" he’d ask frantically, shaking you gently until you start breathing again.

when you reach your climax and exhale deeply, he smiles softly. "that's it, beautiful," he murmurs, his hands soothingly rubbing your sides. "you did so well, just keep breathing."

''please don’t do that again."

Jun's brow furrows in concern when he notices you tensing and not breathing. "are you okay? don't forget to breathe," he says softly, his hands caressing your sides. "I'm here, just relax and let it go."

when you cum and release your breath, he lets out a relieved laugh. "there you are," he whispers, pressing kisses along your neck. "you did amazing, baby. just relax now."

Hoshi "hey, love, are you okay? please breathe," he’d say frantically. Hoshi’s heart skipped a beat when he saw you stop breathing momentarily during your orgasm. his movements became more controlled, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

as you finally came, your body trembling in response, Hoshi let out a soft, encouraging moan. “fuck, you’re amazing,” he kept his movements gentle but firm, prolonging your pleasure and ensuring you felt every wave of your orgasm. “that’s it, mhmm” he encouraged, his voice soothing and filled with admiration.

Wonwoo notices your body’s reactions with a keen eye, fascinated by the way you stop breathing and tense up as you get closer to orgasm. he slows his pace just enough to tease you, "just relax, I'm here with you." "gonna' cum for me just like the good girl your are? hm"

he smiles in relief, when you cum around his cock "there you go, love..." he whispers, his hands gently rubbing your back.

Woozi ''hey, don't hold your breath like that," he almost scolds, voice laced with concern. he cups your face, making sure you focus on him. "It's okay, just breathe with me."

As you cum, he breathes a sigh of relief along with you. "that's it, you're okay," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Minghao, from the moment you start to fuck, Minghao is attuned to every detail of your reactions. his gentle but firm touch is designed to keep you grounded. as you get closer to your climax, you forget his earlier instructions and starts tensing up. your breath catches, and you can feel your body tightening.

"breathe," he commands, his voice dominating. when you cry out, overwhelmed by the intensity, he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "shh, shh, breathe," he repeats, his tone brooking no argument. "you did so well."

Mingyu's eyes widened when he realized you had stopped breathing in the throes of your orgasm. his large hands stroking your sides soothingly. “hey, hey, breathe for me,” he coaxed, his voice gentle yet firm.

when you finally reached your climax, and he felt the gush of liquid from your squirting, Mingyu couldn’t contain his excitement. “holy shit,” he muttered, a wide grin spreading across his face. he watched in awe as you rode out your orgasm, his hands steadying you.

Seokmin’s eyes widen with concern as he notices you slipping into a trance-like state, your breath catching and body tensing up. "Y/N-nie?" he slows his pace momentarily, trying to gauge your reaction. ''breathe, baby, come on,"

realizing you need a sharp jolt to snap out of it, Seokmin thrusts sharply into you, forcing your body to react. the sudden movement makes you gasp, drawing in a much-needed breath. as you exhale, the tension in your body releases, and you cream around his cock, the orgasm hitting you. "good girl..." he continues to move, more gently now. "I’ve got you."

Seungkwan "baby, you gotta breathe for me," he decides to stimulate you more, hoping to get a reaction. one hand moves to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles while his mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking and licking it. "come on, beautiful, I need to hear you," he murmurs against your skin.

feeling your body react to the extra stimulation, Seungkwan continues, his touch becoming more insistent. "breathe, baby, breathe" he repeats, his fingers working your clit faster. your body jerks, a gasp escaping your lips as you finally take in a breath. he grins, knowing he's got you back.

Vernon immediately senses something is wrong so he stops thrusting into you, "are you okay?"

you whine, frustrated by the sudden pause, and manage to gasp "keep going." you start to breathe again, your chest rising and falling more steadily. Vernon grins, relieved but still cautious. "alright, but you gotta keep breathing, okay?"

he moves slowly at first, making sure you’re breathing steadily. once he's satisfied you're alright, he picks up the pace. "you gonna cum for me, baby? just like that, keep breathing,"

the pleasure builds quickly, and with Vernon’s attentive eyes on you, you feel safe to let go. your body tenses again, but this time, you remember to breathe. "fuck, that's it, baby." Vernon groans, feeling you clench around him.

Dino sharp instincts kick in, and he knows he needs to keep you breathing. without slowing his thrusts, he bites down gently on your neck and tugs at your hair, the sudden sensations pulling you back from the edge just enough. "breathe, baby, yes, breathe" he growls into your ear, his voice low and commanding.

the mix of pain and pleasure forces a gasp out of you, and you start to breathe again, albeit shakily. Chan doesn't let up, his thrusts relentless as he works to bring you to your peak. "that's it, keep breathing," he encourages, his tone firm. "I want you to scream my name when you cum." he pulls his face away from your neck, his eyes locking onto yours.

as you come down from your high, Chan slows his movements, his hands still holding you close. he scolds you gently, "you need to remember to breathe, okay? I want to feel you cum properly without scaring me like that."

[euphoriaishername]

These are some of my favourite stories of Hong Joshua I've read so far!

Make sure to support these authors. I'll be adding more as time goes on.

Also find my other recommendations post of one-shots.

the royal gambit by @idyllic-ghost

Unveiling Hearts: The Law of Attraction by @idyllic-ghost

pushing and pulling by @hannieween

hoax by @lovelyhan

isohel by @toruro

108 hours by @strayed-quokka

Something Between Us by @thedensworld

Where you're convenient by @miabebe

Gentleman by @starlightxsvt

Snowflakes by @brownsugarbaybee

Anonymously Yours by @joonsytip

tell me that you love me [part 1] [part 2] by @wheeboo

too nice by @mochacoda

golden hour by @dkfile

royally screwed [part 1] [part 2] by @husbandhoshi

Just Like That by @kwanisms

Be My Sin by @miaoua3

HELP! My Neighbour is an Alien a Porn Star by @kwanisms

skin by @bratzkoo

fungal affairs by @starrdustshuas

Sweet Dreams by @wonusite

Calendar Killer by @miabebe

Vanilla [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] by @milfgyuu

[archivegyu]

invisible string

part 2

There’s a golden softness to late afternoons in Seoul. The kind that melts into the floorboards and sneaks into the corners of rooms. In Seungcheol’s apartment, it spills in through the wide living room windows, lazily painting everything with that hazy warmth only spring can offer. It catches in the ridges of your coffee mug, glimmers against the silver edges of your ruler, and warms the back of your neck as you hunch over the center table.

The apartment is quiet, save for the low hum of your laptop fan and the occasional scribble of your stylus across the screen. Your project , fills the display in layers of blueprints and notes. Post-its clutter the table’s edge, reminders of measurements and deadlines, and in the middle of it all, there’s you; oversized hoodie, glasses slipping down your nose, hair pulled back in a lazy bun.

And next to you, lying belly-up with a kind of careless peace you envy, is Kkuma.

She lets out a little huff, tail twitching as if in a dream. You reach over to scratch behind her ear with your free hand, lips twitching into a tired smile.

This is what most of your evenings look like lately. Half-finished sketches, cold takeout, and a drowsy dog keeping you company while your best friend dances himself to the bone in some faraway practice room.

You hadn’t meant to stay here long. When Seungcheol first offered his spare room, you’d told yourself it was just for a few months — until your life calmed down, until rent became less of a monster, until breathing felt easier.

But the months stretched, and the apartment never stopped feeling safe. He never made you feel like a guest, either. It wasn’t his place. It became yours too. The kind of home that smells like coffee and fabric softener, where the walls are filled with memories neither of you ever had to say out loud.

The front door clicks open a little past eight.

You don’t look up. You don’t need to.

The soft shuffle of sneakers on tile. The familiar thud of a duffle bag hitting the entryway floor. Then the drag of tired footsteps across the wood, slow and heavy, like gravity itself decided to cling to him today.

“I’m home,” he calls, his voice quieter than usual. Rough around the edges.

Still, you smile without looking. “There’s kimchi fried rice on the stove.”

He pauses, then: “Did you cook or order again?”

“Define ‘cook.’”

He laughs under his breath. A real one. Not the polite, camera-ready kind.

You finally glance up and find him standing a few feet away, hoodie soaked through, bangs sticking to his forehead, sweat glistening at his collarbone. Exhaustion clings to him like second skin, but his eyes are gentle, warm when they land on you.

“You’re still working?” he asks, nodding toward the screen.

You shrug. “Final review is next week.”

“You said that last week.”

“I meant it then, too.”

He shakes his head, kneels to pet Kkuma. She perks up, tail wagging in sleepy little thumps against the floor.

“She’s spoiled now,” he mutters. “Doesn’t even greet me at the door anymore.”

You hum without thinking, eyes drifting back to your screen. “She likes people who feed her on time.”

He snorts. “I’m taking a shower. Don’t pass out on the floor again.”

You raise a hand in lazy salute, already tuning back into the chaos of your canvas.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

You’re fast asleep by the time he finds you again.

Curled up on the center table, cheek pressed to your folded arms, a pencil still tucked between your fingers. Your laptop screen has dimmed to black, casting the room into a warm hush. Kkuma lies beside you, paw resting near your knee like she’s been guarding you all evening.

Seungcheol exhales quietly from where he stands in the hallway, towel slung around his shoulders. His hair is still damp, shirt clinging slightly to his skin from the shower. His body aches from practice, but his chest aches for something else entirely.

He steps forward, careful not to wake you. There’s something fragile about the scene; the way your face is turned toward the window, the way your brows are relaxed, mouth slightly parted, like the weight you always carry has finally slipped off for just a moment.

And God, you still wear that hoodie he gave you two winters ago— fraying at the sleeves, too big for your frame, swallowed by the fabric.

He kneels beside the table.

“You weren’t supposed to fall asleep like this,” he murmurs softly, reaching to brush a stray hair out of your face.

You don’t stir. You never do, not when you’re this tired. It’s something he’s learned from the years. How you give everything you have until your body stops you. How you always say you’re fine even when you aren’t. How you carry the weight of the world in silence.

He hesitates, then gently scoops you up in his arms. You sink into his chest instinctively, head resting against the hollow of his shoulder. You smell like shampoo and his vanilla lotion you pretend not to like.

Your fingers twitch once in your sleep, curling lightly into the fabric of his shirt.

And that’s what does it; that tiny movement, that subconscious reach for him. Like something inside you knows, even now, even half-asleep, that it’s him.

He carries you to your room, nudging the door open with his foot. Lays you down slowly, carefully, like you’re something precious. Something breakable. His fingers linger on your wrist for a second too long before he pulls the blanket over you.

Then, without thinking, he reaches up and grazes the back of his knuckle along your cheek.

“Night, pretty girl,” he whispers, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even your dreams deserve rest.”

He closes the door quietly behind him.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Back in the living room, Seungcheol sinks into the couch, rubbing his hands over his face. The quiet presses in; thick and full of everything he’s never said.

Kkuma climbs up beside him, paws light on the cushion. She flops down, tail flicking once, then still.

He chuckles softly, leaning back. “She’s gonna burn herself out before she even graduates.”

Kkuma yawns.

“She doesn’t take care of herself unless someone makes her. It’s annoying,” he says, his voice softer now, gentler. “But… I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the one who reminds her.”

Silence stretches between him and the dog.

“You know, I’ve been trying to ignore it. For years, maybe. Told myself it was just comfort, or familiarity. Like she’s just… always been here.”

He stares up at the ceiling, eyes half-lidded.

“But it’s not that. It’s never been that.”

His voice wavers just a little.

“I’m in love with her.”

There. He says it. Not to you. Not to anyone who can answer. Just to the only soul in the room who might understand.

Kkuma lifts her head slightly, ears twitching.

“I don’t even know when it started,” he continues, his eyes growing distant. “Maybe it was when she stood up to my bully. Maybe when she shared her candy and said I could have the red one.”

A soft laugh escapes him, short and breathless.

“Maybe I’ve always known.”

He reaches down and pets Kkuma’s head again, more to ground himself than anything.

“I don’t know what she’d say if I told her. I don’t know if she’d laugh, or freeze, or leave.” His voice turns quiet. “But I’d rather have her here, like this, than risk losing her at all.”

He looks toward your closed bedroom door.

“So maybe I’ll just wait a little longer.”

The city hums quietly outside the windows. And in this in-between, not quite night, not quite morning; he sits in the golden aftermath of everything unsaid, gently held by the thread that’s tied you to him all this time.

[amyzworldds]

Part two: Weight of Words

Masterlist | Part 1

After a wave of online hate and a painful misunderstanding with Seventeen, Y/N locks herself in her vibrant apartment, leaving the 13 boys anxious and restless. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Heavy angst, Fluff, Humor

Y/N sat motionless on her living room floor, surrounded by the vibrant chaos of her personality—pink pillows, green rugs, quirky trinkets—but it felt like a stranger’s space now. Her tears had dried up, hours of crying leaving her empty, eyes red and swollen, staring blankly at nothing. The room was silent, suffocatingly so. Normally, she’d be video-calling the boys, cackling over how they’d never escape her—“You’re stuck with me! New houses, new families, I’ll still haunt you!”—her voice bouncing off the walls. But tonight, the quiet pressed in, a heavy shroud over her shattered confidence. She felt hollow, a shell of the Y/N they’d always known.

The doorbell jolted her, sharp and insistent. She blinked, sluggish, and glanced at the monitor—13 familiar faces crowded her doorstep, their expressions tense. Her heart lurched, but she didn’t move, frozen by the weight of seeing them. Then the knocking started—loud, relentless—her phone buzzing with calls, texts pinging. Seungcheol’s message flashed: “Answer or we bang this door ‘til your neighbors hate us. Open up, Y/N-ah.” The threat wasn’t empty; she knew they’d do it.

She dragged herself up, legs shaky, and cracked the door open, avoiding their eyes. “Hey,” she mumbled, turning fast, shuffling to the kitchen. “I’ll… get water.” Her voice was flat, a flimsy shield. She didn’t want them to see her—puffy eyes, messy hair, the wreck she’d become.

They filed in, the air shifting with their presence, but she kept her back to them, fumbling with glasses. Seungcheol’s voice cut through, low and steady. “Y/N-ah, stop. The manager showed us your text.”

She froze, glass clinking hard against the counter, her breath catching. “What… text?” she croaked, but she knew—“Do I need to leave the group?”—and dread coiled tight in her chest.

“Turn around,” Jeonghan said, softer but firm. “Look at us.”

She didn’t want to—couldn’t—but Hoshi stepped closer, voice trembling with urgency. “Y/N-ah, please. We’re not leaving ‘til you hear us.”

Reluctantly, she turned, eyes on the floor, hands gripping the counter. Seungcheol stepped forward, holding the manager’s phone out, her message glowing accusingly. “This,” he said, voice thick. “You think we want you gone?”

Her lip quivered, but she held it in, staring at her feet. Woozi spoke, sharp with guilt. “You heard us, didn’t you? That day—‘tone it down, act your age.’ You walked in and caught the worst part.”

“We know you misunderstood,” Joshua added, gentle but pained. “You didn’t hear us worrying—freaking out ‘cause the hate was killing you.”

“We didn’t mean change who you are!” Mingyu burst out, stepping closer, voice cracking. “We were scared—scared you’d break under it all!”

She shook her head, voice small. “But you said it—‘lay low, feminine, mature.’ I tried—I toned it down, I acted my age, whatever that means—and they still hate me.” Her eyes lifted, glassy, brimming. “I saw the video—me dodging Jeonghan oppa. They called me fake, a flirt anyway. I can’t win—I’m dragging you down—”

“No!” Seungkwan cut in, loud and fierce. “You’re not dragging us anywhere—you’re us! The bashers? We’ll handle them—screw what they think!”

“You think we want you gone?!” Hoshi yelled, eyes wide, stepping right up to her. “You’re our maknae—our chaos! We’d fall apart without you!”

Tears spilled then, hot and fast, and she couldn’t stop them. “I don’t know what to do!” she sobbed, voice breaking into a wail. “I tried—I changed, I hid, and it’s still not enough! They want me out—say I’m a disgrace, your weak spot—I trained so hard, and they—” She crumpled, hands flying to her face, crying like a child, raw and unfiltered. “I feel so alone—I can’t even be me anymore!”

Seungcheol surged forward, pulling her into his arms, tight and unyielding. “You’re not alone,” he said, voice rough with emotion. “You’re never alone—hear me? We’re right here.”

Jeonghan joined, wrapping around her from the side, voice soft. “We don’t want you different, Y/N-ah. We love you—wild, loud, clingy, all of it.”

“You’re not a disgrace,” Mingyu said, kneeling in front of her, tears in his eyes. “You’re our strength—our heart. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

She sobbed harder, clinging to Seungcheol, words tumbling out. “I was so scared—you said ‘tone it down,’ and I thought… I thought you were ashamed of me! The hate—it’s everywhere—I can’t escape it!”

“We’re not ashamed,” Jun said, stepping up, voice firm despite the crack. “We were idiots—said it wrong. We wanted to protect you, not change you.”

“We’ll fight the hate,” Hoshi vowed, gripping her shoulder. “Post, call them out—whatever it takes. They don’t get to touch you.”

“You’re not leaving,” Seungkwan said, fierce, wiping his own tears. “Not over this—not ever. You’re stuck with us, got it?”

She nodded, a broken whimper escaping, and Dino piled in, hugging her waist. “You’re our Y/N-ah—our crazy, perfect maknae. No one’s taking you.”

Joshua’s voice was steady, warm. “You don’t have to pretend—not with us, not for anyone. Be you—that’s all we need.”

Her cries softened, trembling against Seungcheol’s chest as the others closed in, a protective circle. “I… I missed you,” she whispered, voice raw. “I didn’t know how to say it—I thought I’d ruin everything.”

“You could never ruin us,” Minghao murmured, ruffling her hair, his voice a lifeline. “You’re our family—cracks and all. We fix this together.”

She looked up, puffy-eyed, surrounded by them—her loud, messy, unshakable oppas—and the weight lifted, just a little. “I’m sorry,” she hiccupped. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t be,” Wonwoo said, squeezing her hand. “Just don’t shut us out again—we can’t lose you.”

“Never,” she promised, a shaky laugh breaking through. “You’re stuck with me haunting you forever.”

“Good,” Hoshi grinned, wiping her tears. “That’s our Y/N.”

They stayed like that—huddled in her colorful chaos—comfort settling over the storm. She cried out her fears, they held her through it, and for the first time in days, the quiet wasn’t suffocating. It was home.

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Y/N sat nestled in the middle of her living room, still sniffling but steadier now, wrapped in the warmth of her 13 boys. The tears had slowed, her sobs replaced by shaky breaths, their arms and words a cocoon of comfort. She leaned against Seungcheol’s shoulder, Wonwoo hand still squeezing hers, the others sprawled around her like a chaotic guard. The silence wasn’t suffocating anymore—it was soft, safe. Then, a loud, unmistakable growl rumbled from her stomach, cutting through the tender moment like a foghorn.

She froze, eyes widening, then looked up at them, puffy-faced but indignant. “I’m hungry,” she announced, voice small but firm, blinking at their startled faces. “Where’s the food?”

The boys blinked back, caught off guard. “Uh…” Seungcheol started, scratching his neck. “We… didn’t bring any.”

Her jaw dropped, dramatic as ever, and she pulled back, staring at them like they’d committed treason. “What?!” she yelped, voice pitching up. “You didn’t bring food?!”

“We were worried!” Mingyu protested, hands up. “We saw that text and bolted—food wasn’t exactly on our minds!”

“Yeah, Y/N-ah,” Hoshi chimed in, grinning sheepishly. “We were too busy panicking about you leaving us!”

She stomped her foot—full maknae mode—pouting hard, her old spark flickering back. “That’s no excuse!” she wailed, crossing her arms, lips jutting out. “You know I’m sad—you know I’m a mess—and you show up empty-handed?! What kind of members are you?!”

Seungkwan snorted, trying to hide a laugh. “The kind who drove across Seoul at 8 p.m. to save you from yourself!”

“Save me with food!” she shot back, thumping her foot again, her pout deepening into a masterpiece. “I’ve been crying all day—my stomach’s screaming—and you didn’t even grab a ramyeon pack? A chip bag? Anything?!”

Jeonghan chuckled, ruffling her hair. “We thought you needed hugs, not snacks, drama queen.”

“Hugs and snacks!” she corrected, swatting his hand but leaning into it anyway. “I’m starving—I could die right here, and it’d be your fault!”

“Don’t die!” Dino yelped, clutching her arm, half-serious. “We’ll get you food—just don’t faint on us!”

“Too late,” she groaned, flopping back against Seungcheol with a theatrical sigh. “I’m fading… betrayed by my own family… no food, no hope…”

Seungcheol laughed, steadying her. “Alright, alright—calm down, you little monster. We’ll fix it.”

“Fix it now!” she demanded, sitting up, eyes glinting with mock fury. “You can’t just storm in, make me cry more, and not feed me! I deserve ramyeon—spicy ramyeon—and ice cream! And gummies!”

“Gummies too?” Joshua teased, grinning. “You’re pushing it, Y/N-ah.”

“Yes, gummies!” she huffed, pointing at him. “I’ve suffered—suffered!—and you owe me!”

Mingyu smirked, pulling out his phone. “Fine, princess—what’s your order? I’ll get it delivered.”

“Everything,” she declared, arms flailing. “Ramyeon, fried chicken, tteokbokki, ice cream—chocolate, not vanilla, disgusting—gummies, chips—spicy chips, not the lame ones—and soda! Lots of soda!”

“That’s a feast,” Woozi said, raising an eyebrow but smiling. “You’re back to bossing us around already?”

“Damn right,” she sniffed, wiping her nose with a pout. “I’m sad and hungry—you messed up, so you fix it!”

“Okay, okay!” Hoshi laughed, throwing his hands up. “Mingyu, order it—our maknae’s gonna riot if we don’t!”

“On it,” Mingyu said, tapping away. “But if you eat all that, you’re not fitting through the door tomorrow.”

“Then carry me!” she shot back, sticking her tongue out. “You’re tall—use it!”

The room erupted in laughter, the tension melting as her tantrum—dramatic, pouty, pure Y/N—filled the space. Seungcheol grinned, pulling her into a side hug. “There’s our girl—whiny and all.”

“Don’t call me whiny!” she protested, shoving him but snuggling closer. “I’m justified! You starved me!”

“We didn’t starve you,” Jeonghan teased, poking her cheek. “You starved yourself—big difference.”

“Semantics!” she huffed, swatting him again. “You’re all terrible—I should’ve known you’d forget food!”

“We’ll never forget again,” Seungkwan vowed, mock-serious, hand over his heart. “Next time, we’ll bring a buffet!”

“You better!” she grumbled, but a small giggle slipped out, her pout softening. “I’m still mad, though.”

“Mad and cute,” Hoshi said, pinching her cheek ‘til she yelped. “Welcome back, Y/N-ah.”

“Stop it!” she whined, flailing at him, but her smile broke through, bright and real. She looked around—13 goofy, worried, loving faces—and her stomach growled again, loud enough to make them laugh harder.

“Food’s on the way,” Mingyu announced, pocketing his phone. “Fifteen minutes—don’t die ‘til then.”

“I might!” she groaned, flopping onto the floor, arms spread. “Hurry it up, oppa—I’m fading!”

“You’re so dramatic,” Seungcheol chuckled, nudging her with his foot. “But we love it—don’t ever change.”

“Never,” she mumbled, grinning up at him, her old self peeking out, loud and unfiltered. The room buzzed with their banter, sweet and silly, the night turning warm again—food or not, she was home.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The food had long been devoured at Y/N’s apartment—ramyeon bowls empty, chicken bones scattered, tteokbokki sauce staining the table, and a half-melted tub of chocolate ice cream abandoned after Y/N’s dramatic brain freeze wail. The boys sprawled across her vibrant living room, a battlefield of wrappers and laughter—Hoshi swiping her gummies, Mingyu tipping soda on Seungkwan, who shrieked like a banshee. Y/N was back to her old self—pouty, loud, thumping her feet when DK teased her—but the shadow of hate lingered in their minds, a fight unfinished.

By midnight, they’d cleaned out the snacks, and Y/N dozed off mid-rant about Hoshi’s chopstick fumbles, her head drooping onto Seungcheol’s shoulder. The boys traded looks, the quiet settling heavy. “She’s okay here,” Joshua whispered, smiling softly. “But out there? It’s still a war.”

“She thinks she’s our weak link,” Woozi said, voice low, guilt sharp. “We can’t let that stick.”

Seungcheol nodded, jaw tight. “We shut it down—tonight. All 13 of us.”

“Weverse,” Jeonghan said, pulling out his phone. “Blast the haters—show them she’s ours.”

“With pics!” Hoshi grinned, eyes glinting. “She was a disaster crying—perfect ammo.”

“She’ll murder us,” Mingyu laughed, scrolling his gallery. “Got one—puffy eyes, snot central.”

“Gold,” Seungkwan snickered, leaning in. “She’ll hate it, but it’s peak Y/N.”

They huddled, phones glowing, drafting as Y/N snored softly, oblivious. Seungcheol kicked it off, typing with resolve: “To anyone hating on our Y/N—stop now. She’s our maknae, our sunshine, and you don’t get to tear her down for being her.”

Jeonghan smirked, adding: “She laughs loud, clings hard, cries messy—that’s Y/N, and we love it all. You’ve got no right to judge.”

Hoshi cackled, typing fast: “Chaos queen—keeps us alive with her madness. Hate her? You’re blind—check this!” He attached a photo—Y/N mid-sob, eyes swollen, mouth gaping, tissues jammed up her nose.

“She’ll kill you,” Dino wheezed, laughing. “I’ve got her pouting over food!” He added it—Y/N stomping, cheeks puffed, glaring teary-eyed.

Mingyu grinned, typing: “Weak spot? Nah—she’s our strength. Keeps us laughing when we’re dead. Back off.” His pic—Y/N flailing at Hoshi, mid-tantrum, hair wild.

Seungkwan smirked: “Not fake, not a flirt—just Y/N. Twist it, that’s your problem. We’ll fight for her—always.” His shot—Y/N sprawled, “dying” from hunger, tongue lolling.

Woozi kept it sharp: “She’s not leaving—ever. She’s SEVENTEEN. Deal with it.” His pic—Y/N mid-rant, pointing fiercely, face red.

Joshua softened it: “She’s our light—don’t dim her with hate. We love her loud, goofy chaos—always.” His shot—Y/N giggling, ice cream on her cheek, hugging him.

Minghao stepped in, calm but firm, typing: “She’s real—raw, unfiltered. That’s her power. You don’t get to break it.” His photo—Y/N mid-laugh, sprawled on the couch, soda can tipping in her hand.

Jun grinned, adding: “She’s our wild card—makes every day fun. Hate’s got no place here!” His pic—Y/N fake-wrestling him for the last gummy, her grin huge.

Wonwoo’s voice was quiet, steady: “She’s our spark—don’t snuff it out. We need her, just like this.” His shot—Y/N napping earlier, curled against Seungcheol, a tissue dangling from her fist, peaceful but messy.

Vernon typed coolly: “She’s real—hate’s fake. Let her shine.” His pic—Y/N mid-chip-steal, smirking at Mingyu.

DK laughed, adding: “Her laugh’s our anthem—don’t mute it!” His shot—Y/N fake-sobbing over spilled soda, theatrical as ever.

Dino finished the lineup: “She’s my twin maknae—hands off! We’re 13 plus 1—complete.” His pic—Y/N dangling gummies from her mouth, grinning like a gremlin.

Seungcheol capped it, fierce: “She’s ours—13 of us say so. Hate her, you hate us. Stop—now.” His photo—Y/N asleep now, puffy-faced but calm, nestled against him.

“Post it,” Jeonghan said, grinning. “All 13—complete.”

They hit send in unison, 13 Weverse accounts flaring to life, a goofy, fierce fortress of love. Comments flooded—Carats roaring support, haters reeling—but they ignored it, watching Y/N twitch in her sleep, mumbling something about “ramyeon.”

“She’s gonna lose it over those pics,” Hoshi whispered, stifling a laugh.

“Let her,” Mingyu said, smirking. “She’ll yell, but she’ll feel it.”

“Feel what?” Seungkwan asked, grinning.

“That she’s ours,” Seungcheol said, brushing her hair back. “Exactly how she is.”

“Even when she’s a snotty mess?” Jun teased, nodding at Hoshi’s photo.

“Especially then,” Wonwoo said, a rare smile tugging his lips.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Overnight, SEVENTEEN’s Weverse post exploded, rocketing to the top of every trending list. The 13 boys’ unified defense of Y/N—complete with her snotty, teary, tantrum-filled photos—lit up the internet. Carats went wild, flooding comments with laughter and love: “Hoshi posting her with tissues up her nose—ICONIC!” “Mingyu’s ‘weak spot? nah’ with her flailing—kings defending their queen!” “This is a real group—13 plus 1, no fakes here!” They booed the haters mercilessly—“Cry more, antis—SEVENTEEN said NOPE!”—and turned the goofy pics into memes, Y/N’s wails and pouts plastered everywhere with captions like “When your members love you but roast you too.” The fandom reveled in it—real, raw, unfiltered Seventeen shining through.

By dawn, it was headline news—“SEVENTEEN Slams Haters in Viral Weverse Post, Defends Maknae Y/N With Hilarious Photos”—every article featuring the boys’ words alongside shots of her mid-cry, mid-tantrum, mid-“dying” from hunger. The tide flipped fast. Netizens who’d bashed her now backpedaled, drowned out by a wave of support. Videos surfaced—Y/N cackling with Mingyu over a spilled drink, pranking Woozi with a water gun, hugging Jeonghan so hard he toppled—proof of her light, her chaos, her heart. Posts multiplied: “She’s not a pick-me—she’s their sunshine,” “This is why SEVENTEEN’s untouchable—real family.” The narrative shifted—her laugh, her wildness, her tears celebrated, not cursed.

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Morning broke at Y/N’s apartment, the boys crashed across her living room—Seungcheol on the couch, Hoshi sprawled on the rug, Mingyu half-off a chair, the rest a tangle of limbs and snores. They’d stayed, too tired to leave after their midnight mission, Y/N tucked into her bed after nodding off mid-ice-cream rant. Then—

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!” Her scream shattered the peace, piercing enough to rattle the walls. The boys jolted awake, groaning, blinking as Y/N stormed in, phone in hand, eyes blazing.

“Y/N-ah, what—” Seungcheol started, rubbing his eyes, but she cut him off, waving her phone like a weapon.

“YOU POSTED THESE?!” she shrieked, scrolling through Weverse, her voice hitting operatic heights. “My crying face?! Snot everywhere?! Tissues up my nose?! HOSHI-OPPA, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

Hoshi cackled, sitting up. “It’s cute! Look—Carats love it!”

“CUTE?!” she bellowed, stomping her foot. “I look like a gremlin! And you—all of you—put it EVERYWHERE! HEADLINES, OPPA! ‘SEVENTEEN DEFENDS Y/N’—WITH THIS?!?!” She shoved the screen at them—a news article with her wailing, captioned “Maknae’s Tears Win Hearts.”

Mingyu smirked, stretching. “Worked, didn’t it? Haters are gone—fans are obsessed.”

“OBSESSED WITH MY UGLY FACE!” she wailed, flopping onto the couch, dramatic as ever. “I’m complaining all day—you’re all dead to me!”

“Aw, Y/N-ah,” Jeonghan teased, grinning. “You’re alive again—yelling means you’re back.”

“Back to haunt you!” she snapped, pointing at him. “You let them post me looking like a drowned rat!”

“It’s not that bad,” Joshua said, laughing. “You’re adorable—snot and all.”

“ADORABLE?!” she screeched, clutching her head. “I’m a disaster! And now the world thinks it’s AI—I mean, it’s not me, right? That’s not my face!”

“Totally you,” Seungkwan snickered, dodging her swat. “Carats are calling it ‘peak maknae energy.’”

“I hate you all!” she groaned, burying her face in a pillow, muffled. “Why didn’t you use pretty pics? I’m cute sometimes!”

“You’re always cute,” Dino said, patting her back. “Even crying.”

“LIES!” she shouted, popping up, pout in full force. “I’m fixing this—right now!” She grabbed her phone, furiously tapping, muttering, “Stupid oppas—stupid headlines—AI my foot…”

She stormed to her room, slamming the door, and the boys erupted in laughter. “She’s posting,” Woozi said, smirking. “Bet it’s a revenge glow-up.”

Minutes later, her Weverse pinged—Y/N’s post: “Since my members think THESE are okay [screenshots of their pics], here’s the REAL me. News people—USE THESE. That crying mess? AI, not me. I’m pretty, see?!” Attached were her best shots—smiling with coffee, winking in stage makeup, laughing in sunlight—zero snot, all shine.

The boys crowded Seungcheol’s phone, howling. “She’s savage!” Hoshi said, wiping tears. “AI—not her!”

“She’s delusional,” Mingyu laughed. “Those crying pics are 100% her—I took half of ‘em!”

“She’s back-back,” Jun grinned, scrolling Carat replies—“Y/N said NO to the snot pics!” “Queen reclaiming her throne!”

Seungcheol chuckled, leaning back. “Haters are toast, she’s yelling—she’s good.”

“She’ll still kill us,” Minghao said, smirking. “But it’s worth it.”

“Totally,” Wonwoo added, rare grin flashing. “She’s our mess—pretty or not.”

Y/N burst out, still pouting. “You’re all on dish duty for this! And I want more chicken—payback!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Seungcheol saluted, grinning as they groaned. The room buzzed—her tantrum, their laughter, the world flipping to her side. The headlines could keep the tears; she’d claimed her shine, and her 13 members had her back—goofy pics and all.

--------------------------------------------------------------

an: hello again! I’m trying my best to mention all the members, but I keep losing track—oops! I’m also trying my best to capture their personalities in each dialogue HAHAHAHA! Thank you so much for reading—I hope you enjoy it!🫶🏻

[jinmindeulle]

svt as your baby daddies | hyung line (pt. 2)

you are back from your work trip!

¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ seungcheol ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸ (part 1 here)

You saw them before they saw you. Seungcheol was holding Kwon, pacing behind the security bars — and you quickly assumed that your baby was starting to get irritated. He didn’t like staying in people’s arms for a long time, no matter if that was his father.

You picked up your pace and as soon as you crossed the barrier that separated your family from you, your husband turned around.

“Look who’s here, baby!” Cheol grinned and walked a few steps to embrace you. “Hi, mama” he whispered, kissing your cheek multiple times. As you responded, your son started wiggling his arms. “Oh, I think he’s done being in papa’s arms”

“Come here, my love” you took the baby from Cheol’s hold and your smile got bigger when you saw Kwon’s eyes lighting up. When he started chuckling, you held him high and blew raspberries on his tummy. “You missed mama, huh?” The sweet laugh he gave you was all you needed to hear. 

“One more day and we would’ve had to fly to you” your husband took your carry on and with his other hand in yours, you started making your way towards the parking lot. 

“Was Kwonnie that bad?” you furrowed your forehead. He was usually pretty chill in the past, even when Seungcheol had left for about a week or more for his own schedules. 

“I was talking about me, doll. Three days away from you? You tortured me”

Of course he was talking about himself. One thing you loved about your husband — he was never afraid of showing you how much in love he was with you, and how every hour away from his wife made him sick.

You giggled, giving him a peck on his lips, careful not to trip over with your baby. “Seungcheol The Dramatic”

“You say that but you would’ve loved us surprising you” he nodded, raising your interlaced hands to kiss the back of yours.  

“I am my husband’s wife. You’ve made me used to those things”

“And I live for spoiling my babies”

°•.•°¤✬.•°°• jeonghan °•°•.✬¤°•.•° (part 1 here)

You didn’t even have time to get your luggage out of the trunk of your car when the front door of your house flew open and a pair of kids — your kids — started running towards you.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

The first one to get to you, naturally, was your eldest, Ilhoon. He hugged your leg and clung to you for dear life. As you rubbed his head with one hand and with the other you attempted to take the handle of the suitcase, your youngest, Hyein, began to sob and make grabby hands at you “Moooommmyyy!” she whined.

“Dear Lord, where’s your father?” you were about to cry along with your daughter when said person, your one and only saviour, jogged out of the house and right in your direction. For having been four days working and living as a single father of two, he didn’t look like a desperate man — he was as flawless as ever. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Jeonghan apologised, giving you a quick hug and a longer kiss before helping you with your suitcase “We were in the kitchen baking cookies for you and suddenly I was the only one there”

“They are fast kids” you chuckled, and crunched down to hug them both. “Hello my little demons” you pressed a noisy kiss on each of their cheeks “How was life without mommy?”

“We watched Spongebob! Every day!” Hoon looked up to your husband with an evil grin, and you had to laugh at the betrayed face he got in return. Hye looked at you and smiled knowingly. Those kids!

“Oh? Did you betray mommy like that?” you put your hand on your chest, right where your heart was, and looked at your kids with the best hurt expression you could muster.

“It was boring without you, though” Hoon looked at the floor, trying to avoid your stare. 

“Daddy made us!” Your daughter’s honesty was truly endearing. Well, not in Jeonghan’s opinion. 

“You’re never watching it again! Not even if mum is here!” After getting all your stuff out, Han closed the trunk and kneeled down. 

Suddenly, your world was upside down and you were being carried around the front yard, chased by the little demons you called your son and daughter “Mommy is mine now!”

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ joshua ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´ (part 1 here)

You knew Joshua didn’t like not picking you up from the airport every time you came back from a work trip. But this time, he had to stay back — Jinyoung was down with the flu and more clingy than usual. He wasn’t the easiest kid to deal with in general, but he got even worse when he was sick, and without his mommy. 

So when you got home right past midnight, you silently rolled your carry on inside, leaving it behind to take your shoes off and slide your slippers on. You took a deep breath and the smell of a clean house and homemade food invaded your nose, which made you instantly relax. Having Joshua as a super dad made it even better. You didn’t know how he dealt with a sick kid, house cleaning and cooking duties at the same time. Thank God he was on a break from work schedule for now. 

The urge to see your family was stronger than your sleepiness or hunger, so you quickly discarded your jacket and walked up the stairs, opening the door decorated with stars, spaceships and a moon. 

Your son was sleeping on his crib, tightly hugging his astronaut plushie, with a blue wet cloth on his forehead. Your husband, on the other hand, was too awake for your liking, and as soon as he saw movement behind Jinyoung’s door, got up from the rocking chair beside the bed to embrace you tightly. 

“We missed you so much, baby” he inhaled your scent and pressed you even more strongly against his frame.

“Me too” you whispered, scratching the back of his head. “How’s our boy?”

“Better” Shua started distributing wet kisses up your neck, cheek and finally on your lips. “He’s been knocked out for quite a while”

“Did you give him his cough medicine?”

“Mhm” he muttered, his lips going back to your jaw.  

“What’s all this love for?” you giggled softly, careful not to wake Young. 

“You wanted baby number two. I’m about to get that taken care of” he returned to your lips.

“Hold your horses, cowboy. I need to shower first” you mumbled in between kisses.

“Oh, come on” he said, taking your hand and guiding you out of your son’s room “You don’t get to come up with silly excuses after suggesting that while being thousands of miles away from your husband”

★¸.•☆•.¸★ junhui ★⡀.•☆•.★ (part 1 here)

Because Junhui was still getting ready for comeback season with Seventeen, your trip home was slightly diverted. He had dropped Qian off with your mom, and as he was getting back later than you did, you decided to pick your son up as soon as you hopped in your car.

“Oh, just look at that baby boy!” you cooed, taking him in your arms and loving how fast he clung to you, just as a koala. 

“My mommy” he whispered, and you almost cried. You had to thank your husband again and again for giving you such a perfect son.

“Thank you mum” you hugged your own mother as much as you could with Qian in the middle “Say bye to grandma!”

“Bye granny! Thank you for the food!”

That politeness? All Jun’s, of course. Thank God there was evidence of your pregnancy — otherwise, people would think that Junhui was able to create a baby on his own. 

Once you got home, Qian asked “Is daddy getting home soon?” 

You took a look at your watch and nodded, picking him up “In no time. Why don’t we take a bath before he gets here?”

“Yeah!” 

Your son was known for being an angel, but there was one place and one place only where he liked to let loose. And that was the bath. Your husband had dealt with those for four days, so you had to take care of the business on your own. 

“Okay, honey. Please don’t soak mommy in the process” you mentally crossed your fingers. But when does that work? Never. 

You were in the third attempt to rinse the shampoo out of his hair without him moving to play with his duckies when you saw Jun leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom and quite literally laughing his ass off. 

“He can make the biggest mess he wants, oh my Lord, look at him” Junhui mocked the message you had sent to him with a horrible high-pitched voice. 

“Daddy!” and suddenly, Qian was standing and trying to get out of the bath, still soaked in bubbles and shampoo all over his head. 

“Wait, wait!” your husband ran to the bath and pressed him down for him to sit right down “Let’s finish here first buddy” and as if those were magic words, your son obeyed and got back to his toys. 

“Hi darling” Junhui grinned, peppering you with kisses all over your face. 

“You won’t redeem yourself with kisses” you mumbled, “That voice was clearly not how I talk”

“I’m sorry” he chuckled. “I can finish here. I promise to cuddle you all night to make it up to you”

°⨳°·..·°⨳°⊹٭ soonyoung ٭⊹°⨳°·..·°⨳° (part 1 here)

When you opened the door, the first thing you saw was the yellow Fendi bag with a flower bouquet inside. You giggled and got rid of your heavy bag and suitcase to walk up to the welcome back home arrangement. 

You saw a small note in between the roses, which read ‘Dear mommy, we’re so glad you are back home. Thank you for being the light of our lives - Sunny and hubby’ — and he even had your toddler attempting to draw a red heart next to their names. 

As your eyes welled up with tears, you felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around you from behind and two small hands gripping your sweats “Welcome back mama!” 

You picked up your daughter and turned to Soonyoung, who had never let go of your waist in the process “My honeys” you cried, feeling the tiredness and long lost happiness finally weighing down on you “I love you so much” you hugged your husband, Sunhee gently squished in between her parents. 

“Oh, tigress” he caressed your back and kissed your temple “We love you too” 

“Mama! I mish you” those sweet and cute words had you sobbing again. You didn’t know how much you could miss your little family until you had to leave them for the first time after giving birth to your precious daughter.

“You still have to open your present” Soonyoung being the Soonyoung you knew, needed to make you stop crying one way or the other. He’d never liked seeing you so tired and sensitive that every small thing he did for you made you cry. And now that you had Sunhee, he knew she would also get upset upon seeing her mummy in what looked like distress. 

The expensive gift was the last thing you were thinking of when you took the plane and taxi back home, but you couldn’t deny that you were excited about it. 

And when you saw the Fendi Flower Bouquet orange bag, you confirmed that marrying your husband was the best choice you had made in your life — not because of the bag, but because of the level of attention he paid to every little thing you told him, and the care he constantly provided, no matter how insignificant the occasion was. 

“You didn’t have to, baby” you admired the small bag decorated with enamel flowers, and placed it back in the package to go back to Soonyoung’s arms. 

“I did” he smiled, giving you a sweet kiss “You told me how much you liked it that one time we went shopping and we saw it on display”

“You’re incredible” you whispered, peppering his cheek with kisses.

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ wonwoo ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´ (part 1 here)

When you saw the Pochacco with the ribbon raised high by a pair of small hands, you couldn’t help but giggle. One thing that your daughter liked to do when either you or Wonwoo were picking each other up from the airport was to take her favorite plushie and shake it with passion so that you could spot where they were in the crowd. 

But today was a busy day at the airport, and she was still very small to be seen easily. So you did not only spot the cute dog, but also Hanna sitting comfortably on his daddy’s shoulders — her favorite place on Earth.

“That’s mommy!” you heard her yell at Wonwoo, and she started jumping up and down on his father’s shoulders. Poor man, the things he did for his child. 

“Oh my, how tall did my baby grow in just three days?” you faked a surprised expression, letting go of your luggage and kissing one of her hands as Wonwoo put her down. 

“Not a lot” she giggled, hugging your waist, Pochacco long forgotten on the floor. The kid had priorities.

You returned the gesture with one hand and brought Wonwoo closer with the other. “Hello husband” you mumbled on his lips, giving him the kiss you had been craving so much. 

“Welcome back wife” he gave you quick pecks on your lips and cheek before taking your stuff to leave you to your daughter, who was whining for your attention. 

“Mommy! Did you know I made a card for my auntie at school? And also Sunhee and I painted with crayons in a big paper with-”

“I missed her yapping” you chuckled, watching her skipping in front of you on your way to the car, as if you could hear her rumble about her adventures at school.

“Yesterday I was trying to record a beat in my studio and she couldn’t sleep so I let her stay with me. Guess whether I could record the beat or I had to play tea party until she fell asleep on my couch” Wonwoo shook his head, unlocking the car so he could put your bags on the trunk.

“Such a hard guess” you laughed, and opened the door to help Hanna onto her pink car seat. “Cool?” you asked her, making sure the straps were securely tight where they should. 

“Yes mommy! Can I tell you about the place we went with daddy to eat chocolate ice-cream?” 

“In a moment, baby” you kissed her cheek multiple times and closed the door, bumping into your husband.

“Password” he crossed his arms on his chest and looked at you with a very badly faked glare.

“I love you my dear husband” you smiled, hugging his waist.

“Goddamn it, you really are my weakness” he brought you close to his lips and kissed you like you’d left him for a year.

¨˜ˆ”°⍣~•✡⊹٭„¸ jihoon ¸„٭⊹✡•~⍣°”ˆ˜¨ (part 1 here)

Mission is simple. Get out of the plane and run to me. And then we run again to the car. And we may have to speed a little to get to baby’s daycare.

That was the last message you had gotten from your husband before departing from the airport on your way back home. 

You were extremely sad and stressed about the whole situation, but Jihoon had reassured you that it was not that bad and that he was going to try his best to help you relieve the guilt — Yuna had started attending daycare the last day of your trip, and your work schedule decided that that morning you would be on the other side of the country. You had cried and asked your boss multiple times to at least present your research a day earlier so you could get home an hour before your daughter’s big day started, but his stoic face had never changed, not even when a tear escaped your eyes. 

But Jihoon being the husband and father he was, had decided that he was at least going to get you to pick her up. And so with a few contacts and first class tickets purchased, he made sure you would get back as soon as he had been able to — an hour and a half prior to Yuna’s pick up time. 

Against all odds, it took you five minutes to run from the gate towards the parking lot entrance and spot your husband waiting for you with the trunk already open, a few spots away. “We’re on time!” he celebrated, giving you a sweet kiss and hurriedly getting all your stuff in the car.

“That was horrible” you exhaled, putting on the seatbelt and looking at him as he drove out and onto Seoul’s busy streets. 

“I got you some candies and water, they should be on the glove compartment” 

“You’re the sweetest” 

Though speeding was not your passion, you had to remain calm and collected. You needed to see your daughter’s face when she spotted you next to her dad, and that had to happen on time. 

As if some kind of God was on your side that day, the moment Jihoon stopped the car, the daycare’s door flew open and the parents were allowed inside. “We did it” you clapped, and with your husband by your side, entered the place with expectancy in your eyes.

“Oh Yuna! That’s mommy and daddy over there!” a teacher took her by the shoulders and ushered her your way. 

“Mommy! That’s my mommy”

And when she hugged you, you thanked the universe for having Jihoon as your life partner.

maknae line here!

¸.·✩·.¸¸.·¯⍣✩ seventeen masterlist ✩⍣¯·.¸¸.·✩·.¸

[mochacoda]

[teaser] too nice | hjs

Pairing: Hong Joshua x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Joshua Hong is nice. Too nice. He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. The answer is, no. Problem is, he's your coworker and your neighbor.

Content: Fluff | Coworkers to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: slightly insecure reader, totally inspired by the Youngji chocolate milk grandchildren interview, lots of elevators, lots of tension, a bit of drinking, mutual pining, "sweetheart" as a petname, gentleman agenda indeed, except he goes a bit mad at the end, seungkwan is a comedic genius, woozi is the wingman of the year, konglish w/ context clues, reader is scared of loud noises, no "y/n"

Word Count: 9.9K (full)

Full Version: January 8 -> RELEASED HERE

Masterlist

Monday

Joshua Hong is nice. Really nice. He opens the door for you every morning walking into work. He insists that he carries heavy file boxes from your boss’ office to your desk. He buys you coffee from the cafe down the street, knowing that the instant machine is almost always broken. Whenever he passes you in the hallway, he always smiles and mouths “fighting!” He notices when your enthusiastic mask slips and your tiredness peaks through. He tells you not to work so hard, and asks if you’ve been sleeping well. 

He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. 

But the answer is, no. 

“He’s just like that. He’s nice to everyone. Get a grip.”

You sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror hanging above your vanity. You’ve been absentmindedly rubbing moisturizer on your cheeks for the last three minutes, at least, thinking about your coworker. How have you gotten to the point of talking to yourself in attempts to rationalize the thoughts of him clouding your mind?

All of a sudden, your alarm rings. You jolt upright, reminded that you have to leave your tiny apartment and head over to your equally small office cubicle. 

You quickly stand up from your vanity chair, then walk over to your closet to grab a jacket. Relying on muscle memory, your hand moves toward the hook it always lies on, only to swipe at air. 

The one and only winter coat you own isn’t there. 

You groan, remembering that you’d put it in the laundry bin after staining it with beer over the weekend, at that disastrous company “bonding” event. You look down at the taupe sweater you’re wearing, pinching the material to guess if it’d be warm enough. It’s barely a centimeter of fabric. 

Glancing at the time on your phone, you decide that the thin sweater would just have to do. 

You turn back to the mirror to do one last check of your appearance, when something catches your eye. Sitting on your bedside table is the plushie Joshua had won for you at the arcade. The bunny stares back at you innocently. You’d placed it there last night before crashing out on your bed, fatigued from the chaos of the company outing—or, more specifically, the secondhand embarrassment recalling your attempts at trying to be normal around Joshua.  

You shake your head roughly. You could cringe at yourself on the way to work. Grabbing your work bag and shoving your shoes on, you rush over to the door. 

Squaring your shoulders, you open it and walk out. And for a moment, as you’re turning your key to lock the door, you think that you’ll be alone for the commute to work for once. 

But then you hear a familiar voice.

“Good morning!” 

You tense, heart beginning to race, then turn around with a weak smile.

“Hi, Joshua.” 

Somehow, you’re not only coworkers with your crush, but also next door neighbors. 

“Hey,” he says, then takes a sharp breath. “It’s pretty cold today. Is that sweater going to be warm enough?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you drop your keys into your bag. “It can’t be that cold.” 

You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk toward the elevator on your floor, pressing the down button. It immediately opens.

“You sure?” 

You nod as the two of you walk inside the elevator. 

Hoping he’ll stop pushing you on your lack of a coat, you ask, “Did you look into the McKinley and Lee file yet?”

“Come on, it’s not even 9am and you’re already attacking me with work!” Joshua dramatically clutches his chest, then lightly punches your arm. “What’d we say about 워라밸, huh?”

You feel your face getting hot, your right hand reflexively going up to where he’d touched your left arm. Was it always this toasty in the elevator?

Meeting his eyes for the first time today, you say, “Yeah, yeah, work-life balance. You’re right.”

His lips turn up and his eyes crinkle into bright crescent moons. You find yourself smiling back at him, despite having tried so hard to avoid his stupidly sweet gaze.  

“I’m just teasin’, you know?” he says, leaning casually against the steel walls of the small elevator.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble again, rubbing the handle of your bag and tapping your foot to give yourself something else to focus on, suddenly aware that the two of you were alone. 

God, could the elevator move any slower? Fidgeting with the loose threads of your sweater, you were on the verge of melting from being near his vicinity for so long. 

Ever since Joshua Hong had arrived two months ago as a transfer from the Seoul branch, you haven’t gone a day without running into him. It was HR’s fault, really. The Human Resources department had placed him in yours, and also gave him the company-funded apartment next door to you. 

He’d spent so much time around you that, if you didn’t see the people who regularly flocked to him, you’d think you were his only friend in the States. It was, and still is, ridiculous. His constant presence has meant that you are constantly aware of yourself. Of how you’re breathing too loud, and how your heart is beating too fast, and how you were in too much of a rush to do your hair and makeup this morning. He makes you care more than usual about how well you perform at work, and, worse, he makes you think about how happy and funny you appear to be. 

The way he teases you for being nervous (although that’s only because he’s around practically all the time) and the way he always notices when you aren’t feeling well—it’s as if he sees right through you. Yes, he sees right through you, and it’s incredibly scary knowing he could confront you at any time—maybe even in this elevator—and say that he’s known all along that you’ve had feelings for him. And what’s worse is that you know he’d be polite with his rejection. He’d be a gentleman, carefully letting you down with—

“Hello? Hellooo?” Joshua says, waving his hand in front of your face.

You jump, blinking rapidly. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“We’re here, sweetheart,” he says gently.

“Oh,” you reply lamely. 

He gestures with his hand for you to walk out of the elevator first. Inside the lobby, he walks by your side. As the two of you approach the door, he reaches it first, and opens it for you to head outside. 

You’re immediately hit with a blast of winter and harsh winds. Your arms instinctively tighten around your stomach, trying to prevent the cold air from rushing up your sweater. 

Joshua turns to you, brows furrowed. His eyes glance over your sweater again, and you can tell he’s about to say something. Certain it’s an I told you so, you quickly say, “Before you start, I’m fine. It’s really not that cold, and the bus is coming soon anyway.”

You march forward toward the crosswalk before the bus stop, knowing he’s following behind you. Once you reach the start of the white lines, you slow down to a stop, waiting for the signal to change. 

Still behind you, Joshua says, “거기 있어봐.” 

“왜?” Though confused, you listen to his request to stay where you are. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling somewhat awkward just standing with your back turned to him. 

He doesn’t answer your question why, but you hear a shuffle and the sound of fabric rustling. Then you feel a warm coat draped over your shoulders. 

You turn back to face Joshua with a start, opening your mouth to protest.

But before you can get a word out, he takes his pointer finger and lightly presses it against your lips. 

“Shh,” he says with a smile. “Tomorrow, wear a jacket, okay?” He pats the top of your head. 

Speechless, you barely bring yourself to nod, then remember to shut your jaw. Let’s just survive this bus ride, you tell yourself. God, it was unfair how nice he was. It only made it harder for you to believe he was like this with everyone—or to stop hoping that, somehow, you might be the exception. 

Masterlist

Author’s Note: hi hope u liked it :) full version RELEASED HERE

[jjjjeonww]

hard-launching . . . seventeen !!!

how y/n hard-launches, seventeen members, her boyfriend, her husband(??), or whatever you wanna interpret them as.

(plsss ignore the fact that the tags don’t have those lines below it😓😓)

(bonus: kmg)

[cheollvrs]

WARNING 🔞 NSFW AUDIO

🎀 using a vibrator on him <3

© CHEOLLVRS

[scoupsakakitty]

Can I have joshua with an independent reader where she slowly showed her vulnerability towards him, like she confessed about her financially struggle or anything you like!!

Safe With You | idol!Joshua x Reader | fluff

“Are you okay?” Joshua’s voice was soft but firm, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of an answer you wouldn’t say out loud.

You exhaled slowly, gripping your cup of tea tighter. You hated this—being vulnerable, letting someone see the cracks in your carefully built walls. But Joshua had always been different. He never pried, never pushed, just waited patiently for you to let him in.

“I’m fine,” you said, forcing a small smile.

Joshua arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You know that doesn’t work on me, right?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

Silence settled between you two, comfortable yet heavy. You weren’t fine. Not even close. Rent was due in a few days, your bills were piling up, and work had been cutting your hours. You’d always prided yourself on handling things alone, but this time, it felt like you were drowning.

Joshua reached out, gently brushing his fingers against yours. “Talk to me, Y/N. Please.”

You swallowed hard, staring at the table. “I just…” You took a shaky breath. “I’m struggling, Josh.” The words felt foreign, as if admitting them made them more real. “Financially, I mean. Work has been unpredictable, and I’ve been trying to keep up, but—it’s hard.”

Joshua’s expression softened, and he squeezed your hand. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You shrugged. “Because it’s not your problem. I’ve always taken care of myself.”

He sighed, tilting his head. “That’s not how relationships work, Y/N. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”

You looked up at him, vulnerability evident in your eyes. “I know, but I don’t want to be a burden.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “You could never be a burden. Ever.” He let go of your hand only to hold your face gently. “Let me help, okay? I want to.”

You hesitated. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He took a deep breath. “I can cover your rent this month, or however long you need until you get back on your feet.”

Your eyes widened. “Josh, no—I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking,” he said softly. “I’m offering.”

Your heart clenched at how easily he was willing to help, no hesitation, no expectations. “I don’t want you to think I’m with you for your money.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Y/N, I know you. If that was the case, you wouldn’t have waited this long to tell me anything.”

You bit your lip, torn between pride and relief. “I just… I don’t know how to accept help.”

Joshua smiled. “Then start small. Let me do this for you.”

You exhaled, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

His expression brightened, but then he hesitated, as if debating whether to say something else. “Actually… I’ve been thinking about something for a while.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

He reached for your hand again, lacing his fingers with yours. “What if you moved in with me?”

Your breath hitched. “Josh…”

“I know it’s a big step,” he admitted. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured. But I love you, Y/N. I want to be there for you—not just when things are good, but when things get tough too.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at how effortlessly he loved you. “You really mean that?”

He squeezed your hand. “Every word.”

A few months ago, you would’ve refused. You would’ve insisted on handling things alone. But now? Looking into Joshua’s warm, unwavering gaze, you realized something—you didn’t have to do everything by yourself. Not anymore.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you nodded. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Joshua grinned, pulling you into his arms. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

And for the first time in a long time, you truly believed that.

[kissbyoon]

⠀ ⠀𖼥ৎ⠀“LOVIE.” ₍ ⠀𝒉.𝒋𝒔⠀ ₎

── ‘coming home to your two reasons of happiness’

₍ ... ₎ EXPLORE? ✦ hubby.js & f!rea ⋆◞ 𝒈. fluff, slice of life · 𝒄𝒘. skinship, petnames, non-proofread⎯⎯ 0.9k ꒱

리자: for one and only @wonkierideul!! | SORRY FOR GIVING U BABY FEVER, IM HERE TO CURE IT !!

The tiny and adorable noises of your ten months old over-enthusiastic baby, Haeun, ringed throughout the house, followed by your sweet husband’s cooes who was likely panicking inside at the sight of the energized baby. It was never easy to control a baby that was ready to throw things in excitement.

“Aigoo, my good baby~” Joshua sing-songed, gently sitting Haeun down on the bed before unwrapping the towel around her and patting her body dry.

It was never easy to bathe Haeun before a nap. Especially with her chaotic energy. But Joshua, her lovely father, knew how to make things work.

“Let papa dress you up nicely, then we'll cuddle to sleep, hm?”

He smiled down at the little baby, his eyes scrunching so adorably, that even the toddler had to pause for a second to stare at her father and admire him. But, again, she was Haeun—your most adorable, but always energetic baby.

Haeun lightly smacked her father’s cheek, causing him to wince in surprise as his eyes went wide.

“Baby!” He tried to sound strict, but the sight of the toddler laughing so endearingly, it immediately had Joshua grinning as his nose scrunched up.

“Baby..” Joshua chuckled, gently pulling Haeun closer so he could apply baby moisturizer on her skin. “Enough playing, lovie, let's not waste time. You want cuddles, right?” Tilting his head, he gently ran his fingers through her hair, and Haeun nodded like she could understand him well.

Joshua giggled at that, slowly massaging her tiny arms and then feet. “You only understand cuddling, don't you?” He pecked Haeun’s small palm, earning a shy giggle from her.

Now, it came to dressing the toddler up, and with the way Haeun was running here and there on the bed—it seemed impossible. But, it was worth a try!

“Baby, come here!” Joshua called out, stretching out his arms for Haeun, while she started to jump on the bed.

Panicked as ever, he quickly hovered over the bed and picked her up in a hasty manner, making the toddler squeal.

“Haeun! You'll hurt yourself—”

As soon as he laid her down, she swung her foot at his chest forcefully. It seemed like she had used all the power she was saving up, because Joshua let out a loud groan as he grimaced.

Ouch.

“Haeun-ah…” He pouted and put a hand over his chest, wincing in pain, while Haeun giggled at her father’s state. A sigh escaped Joshua, as he finally gave up and plopped down his head on the bed in defeat.

Haeun tapped her tiny hands on her father’s head as she tried to call out to him.

“Papa is tired, lovie…” he spoke in a low, whiny voice and closed his eyes, exhaling deeply.

As the clock finally hit 1PM, you were in the comfort of your home again. It was Sunday, so you wanted to go shopping since Joshua had a day off from practice too. But you didn't know it would take this long.

“Haeun-ah, mom’s home!” You call out from the entrance as you kick off your shoes and head to the living room. Hearing no noises or sounds, a quick sense of dread took over you, but it was quickly replaced by relief when the sound of soft breathing coming from the bedroom filled the dead silence.

Taking slow and gentle steps towards your shared bedroom, you peek through the door and your heart melts at the sight—your lovely husband and your lovely daughter sleeping soundly beside each other.

Haeun only wore a diaper and a top, but the warmth from Joshua’s embrace was enough to keep her warm. His forearm rested behind Haeun’s small body, his hand on her head and his other arm laid on the bed as Haeun used his biceps like a pillow. Held her so gently, careful even in his sleep.

Your smile reached your eyes as you got closer to those two adorable beings sleeping peacefully.

“Shua, baby,” Careful not to startle him, you softly call out. He shifted a little, his eyes gradually opening and he felt himself smiling as soon as he figured out your voice.

“Love..” Joshua’s voice was groggy but comfortingly gentle. He reached out to rub his eyes before he felt a light weight on his right bicep. Turning to take a look, his smile widened, a suppressed laugh leaving him.

His little baby was resting so peacefully. Her hair was messy, probably from shifting in his warm embrace, and she seemed so comfortable and calm, knowing Joshua was by her side.

He turned his attention to you, slowly lifting himself up and scooping up Haeun in his arms.

“You got home just now?” Joshua asked, reaching out one of his hands to hold yours. You sat beside him, caressing Haeun’s head with a smile as you nod.

“Were you tired?” You ask, now resting your hand on Joshua's head, and he scooted closer to you, seeking warmth.

He nodded, jutting out his lips in a pout that made him look adorable. Especially with that messy hair.

You giggle, leaning forward to peck his cheek, making him grin (◠‿◠)

Gently taking Haeun in your arms, you and Joshua look at each other with slightly widened eyes—your little babygirl was holding onto her father’s hand, that was, again, twice the size of her tiny hand.

Joshua let out a hushed laugh, wrapping his other arm around your waist as he snuggled to your side, his cheek squishing against your shoulder.

“She's so cute,” he whispered. “Just like you.”

Your smile widens at his comment. Even after so many years, Hong Joshua never misses the chance to make you blush.

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ HIS ENGLISH LOVE AFFAIR

❛ 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳. ❜

timeline: 2019

synopsis: What starts as playful teasing quickly spirals into something deeper, where teasing words and lingering touches lead to a line neither of them can ever uncross.

warnings: 18+ mdni, mature content, sexual content, smut, cursing, slightly slow burn, best friends to lovers, sexual tension, flirting, subtle innuendos, alcohol consumption, somewhat reckless driving, kisses!, first times, pet names, piv sex, unprotected sex (girly pop is on birth control), teasing, dirty talk, fingering, Jeonghan the menace, they are both freaky af, pure filth!

buckle up ladies and gentlemen… literally ❤️‍🔥 my first ever smut!! i hope you guys love it and please please please— I cannot stress this enough— please take time to read the warnings and the disclaimer before reading! other than that… enjoy! (yes, this was inspired by ‘English Love Affair’ by 5sos, so you guys can listen to that song as you read if you want.) (also send me one-shot requests you want to see in the future!)

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

Jeonghan had always taken pride in his composure.

He was the calm in any storm, the serene face in chaos, and the one who could hide his inner turmoil behind the effortless charm that had become his signature.

It was a skill he had honed over the years— a mask he wore with such ease that even his closest friends rarely saw beyond it. It wasn’t that he was emotionless; far from it. He felt everything deeply, but he had always mastered the art of controlling those feelings.

That was just who he was— unflappable, composed, always in control.

But that was before Luna.

The moment she stepped into his life, everything changed.

Luna had a way of breaking down his walls without even trying, a skill that no one else seemed to possess.

He could still remember the first time he saw her— those wide doe eyes filled with uncertainty as she stood in the PLEDIS practice room, the newest trainee among a sea of faces. Her nervous energy radiated off her, but there was something about her quiet determination that caught his attention.

It wasn’t just her looks or her talent, though those were undeniable.

No, it was the way she carried herself, the way she seemed to be holding a storm inside her, a storm she kept under tight control, especially during those grueling monthly evaluations. Her voice, raw and beautiful, would echo through the room, and each time, Jeonghan found himself captivated.

And then, of course, there were her smiles. The first time she smiled at him— truly smiled, not out of politeness or nerves but with genuine warmth— he felt something in him stir. It was a small thing, the way her lips curved upward, the way her eyes sparkled like she was letting him in on a secret only the two of them knew.

His heart had jumped that day, a flutter of something unfamiliar yet intoxicating, something he wasn’t used to. For a man who prided himself on control, that smile felt like a small crack in his carefully constructed armor.

But then, there was the night she confessed.

The memory of it still haunted Jeonghan even after a year or so, her voice quiet yet steady, the way her eyes, usually so bright, filled with heartbreak as he gently turned her down.

He had told her and himself it was for the team, for the sake of professionalism, but deep down, he knew the truth— it had been cowardice.

He was scared.

Scared of what it meant to feel something so intense for someone who was not only part of his world but essential to it.

And seeing the hurt in her eyes, the pain she tried so hard to mask, had been one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Now, as Jeonghan sat at the back of one of their favorite restaurants, watching the members celebrating Wonwoo’s birthday, that same ache returned, gnawing at his chest.

Luna was there, singing her pretty little heart out, a bright smile stretched across her face as she jumped up and down with the others. The room was filled with energy, everyone in high spirits as they belted out lyrics, glasses filled with alcohol raised in the air.

Their own private section, tucked away at the back of the restaurant, provided them privacy, but Jeonghan felt far from the noise as if his world had narrowed to just one person.

Luna.

Her hair flew wildly as she moved to the music, her laughter ringing out above the noise. She looked free— untethered, glowing under the dim restaurant lights, and Jeonghan couldn't help but stare. His eyes tracked her every movement, unable to look away, even though he knew he should. Her smile reached her eyes, that same real, unfiltered joy he hadn’t seen in a while.

It made his heart skip again, just like it always had.

He thought of the way she had looked at him when she confessed, the vulnerability in her eyes, and how, in this moment, she looked so different. So full of life, so happy, surrounded by people who adored her. She was singing, laughing, her body moving to the rhythm of the music, and yet all Jeonghan could do was sit there, glass in hand, silently fighting the urge to stand up and cross the room to her.

He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening around the glass. His heart raced as memories of the past year flooded his mind— how he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since that night, how he had been too afraid to face his own feelings, and how, even now after a year, watching her from afar, the same fear still lingered in his chest.

But this time, something was different. Something had shifted. The control he had always taken such pride in was slipping, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to stop it.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, the cool wood pressing against his back as he watched Luna across the room. He had always been composed, always the one in control, but ever since he realized he was indeed falling for her, his determination to fix things between them had only grown stronger.

He had spent the past year trying to return to normal, to recapture the easy friendship they once shared before the night she had confessed and he had rejected her.

And they had succeeded— there was no bad blood, no awkward tension. They laughed and joked as they always had, nothing between them felt forced or strained.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

But that was what scared him the most.

Was this ease a sign that Luna had moved on? Or was she still pretending, masking her feelings as she always had, waiting for him to make the next move?

Jeonghan didn’t know if he should feel relieved or terrified by the prospect.

This past year, since his own realization, he had been more open about his feelings. He wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. He had been more touchy, letting his hands linger on her arm a second longer than necessary. He had been more clingy, finding reasons to stand close to her during practice or sit beside her at meals. And he had been flirting, playfully teasing her with lines that bordered on genuine affection.

Jeonghan had never denied her anything— anything she asked for, she got.

It hadn’t taken long for Luna to notice.

She wasn’t stupid; she was cautious, of course. She still had feelings for him— Jeonghan could see it in the way her gaze would linger on him, the slight quirk of her lips whenever he said something that surprised her— but she was guarded now.

She wasn’t about to let her heart get broken again.

Yet, despite her caution, Jeonghan could tell she was intrigued by his bolder approach, even drawn to it.

Luna was a little petty, too— he could see it in the way she played along, letting him dote on her, waiting to see where he would take things. She wanted him to work for it, and he couldn’t blame her. He had hurt her, and now he had to prove that he was serious.

Tonight, she looked like a vision, and Jeonghan couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Luna was dressed in a sleek black leather jacket that gleamed under the restaurant lights, cinched at the waist with silver studs. Beneath it, she wore a simple white tee, tucked into high-waisted black shorts that hugged her curves in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. Her legs, long and slender, were clad in sheer black tights, the material shimmering slightly as she moved, and her feet were adorned in knee-high black boots that gave her an edgy, dangerous air. A thin scarf, sequined and sparkling, was loosely tied around her neck, and her hair, an ashy grey color and wavy, cascaded over her shoulders, wild and free.

Her makeup was minimal, but it highlighted her features perfectly, bringing out the depth of her dark-brown eyes, the shape of her cheekbones, and the curve of her plump lips.

With everything else muted, her beauty shone brighter than ever. Jeonghan took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing pulse.

Jeonghan’s gaze raked over her form, slowly, deliberately, as he raised his glass to his lips and took another shot.

He tried to savor the taste, the burn of the alcohol as it slid down his throat, but all he could think about was her. He avoided drinking too much— he had driven to the restaurant tonight and needed to stay clear-headed— but his senses were already clouded by something much stronger than alcohol.

Luna.

Every fiber of his being was filled with her. She was all he could see as she danced, laughing and twirling with Hoshi, Dokyeom, and Seungkwan. Her laughter rang in his ears like a melody, her voice clear and bright as she sang along to the music, her body moving effortlessly to the beat.

Her perfume— sweet and expensive— lingered in the air around him, wrapping him in her scent, a constant reminder of her presence. He watched as her hand brushed against his arm, a fleeting, accidental touch as she spun past him, but it was enough to set his skin ablaze. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, trying to focus, trying to steady the racing in his chest, but all he could feel was her.

Her energy, her warmth, her light.

There was only one thing missing.

Taste.

Jeonghan rolled the lingering flavor of the alcohol over his tongue, but it was becoming increasingly unsatisfying, especially as his gaze landed on the pink lollipop tucked between Luna’s lips.

She twirled it absentmindedly as she danced, the candy disappearing and reappearing from between her soft lips.

A pang of frustration swelled inside him as he watched, his mind drifting to thoughts he knew he shouldn’t be entertaining— not here, not now. But the longer he watched her, the more his control began to slip.

Soon, Luna finally separated from the whirlwind of dancing, her energy visibly spent, and finally peeled herself away from Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom, who were still bouncing around like maniacs with boundless energy. Their bodies moved in sync with the beat, wild and free as if they were drawing energy from some endless well.

She stole one last glance at them, shaking her head with a smile as they flailed their arms in exaggerated dance moves.

Luna, however, had reached her limit. She could feel her heart racing, her legs trembling from the exertion, and her skin was glistening with a light sheen of sweat. Her own legs felt like jelly after keeping up with them for what felt like hours, her chest heaving slightly as she tried to catch her breath.

She laughed to herself as she made her way back to their table, where the rest of the members were seated, the ones who had wisely opted to sit back and enjoy the chaos rather than join in.

Jeonghan’s eyes hadn’t left her for a second. He watched the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the glisten of sweat along her neck, the lollipop twirling between her fingers.

As Luna approached, Seungcheol looked up, his gaze landing on her as he pointed and chuckled. “Tired already?” His voice held a teasing edge.

Luna plopped down into her seat next to Jeonghan, letting out an exaggerated sigh as she pulled the lollipop out of her mouth and pointed toward the trio still dancing like maniacs. “I don’t know how those three do it. That was my limit,” she chuckled, her voice breathless yet light.

The group chuckled softly as they watched Seungkwan throw his head back in wild laughter and Hoshi twist his body with far too much enthusiasm. Dokyeom’s arms were flailing in an exaggerated dance move, oblivious to the stares they were attracting.

“Those three could keep going for hours,” Vernon muttered, shaking his head as he looked over at them.

Luna let out a small, tired laugh, and as she settled into her seat, she felt Jeonghan’s presence beside her.

Jeonghan’s eyes were still locked on her, though. Everything else in the room seemed muted, the voices of their friends blending into the background. He admired the way her skin glowed under the soft lights of the restaurant, how her ash grey hair clung to her slightly damp neck from all the dancing.

Every inch of her was so effortlessly captivating.

He hadn’t stopped watching her since she sat down. His gaze was unrelenting, but not in a way that made her uncomfortable— rather, it was the kind of stare that seemed to pierce through all her usual defenses, a soft intensity that always left her feeling exposed.

Before she could think too much about it, Seungcheol, the ever-diligent leader, straightened up and glanced at the time on his phone. His expression shifted slightly, taking on that familiar responsible tone he always wore when it was time to get serious.

“We’ve been here for three hours,” he announced, his voice cutting through the noise just enough for the group to hear him. “It's late and we have work tomorrow. Plus, I think three hours of dancing is enough for one night.” He cast a glance toward the still-energetic trio with a knowing smirk.

The rest of the group groaned lightly but nodded in agreement. Seungcheol was right, as always. No matter how much fun they were having, they had responsibilities waiting for them in the coming days as they continued to prepare for their comeback with their new song ‘HIT’ next month.

As the leader gathered everyone, Luna, still catching her breath, felt Jeonghan’s presence beside her, his warmth radiating through the small space between them. It wasn’t just his proximity, though— there was something electric about how quiet he had been, his intense gaze fixated solely on her.

It was hard not to blush under his gaze— how long had he been watching her? But then again, she didn't mind being the center of his attention.

She could feel it, a tension in the air that wasn’t there before, and it made her skin tingle.

While Seungcheol was busy with the rest of the members, Jeonghan turned his attention back to Luna, his eyes softening as he leaned just a little closer to her. “You looked like you were having fun out there,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, that familiar lilt in his tone that always seemed to make her stomach do a tiny flip.

Luna huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I was. Until I couldn’t feel my legs anymore,” she replied, her own voice quieter now as the noise around them seemed to dim slightly.

Jeonghan’s smile deepened, a small chuckle escaping him. “Pushing yourself too hard again?” he cooed softly, his voice dropping into that smooth, almost condescending tone he often used when he was in full dote-on-Luna mode.

It wasn’t harsh; it was gentle like he was speaking to a child who didn’t know their limits yet.

Luna rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Someone had to keep up with Dokyeomie, and you certainly weren’t volunteering,” she shot back, her tone light but with a teasing edge.

Jeonghan’s eyes glinted with amusement, his hand coming to rest on the back of her chair. The casual gesture sent a shiver of warmth through her, but she kept her expression neutral.

“I’m just smart enough to know my limits,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping into a quieter, more intimate tone. “Unlike someone.”

She could feel the tension simmering between them— subtle, unspoken, but undeniably present. The way he was looking at her, the way his voice seemed to dip into that soft, almost velvety tone whenever he spoke to her— it was enough to make her heart race slightly faster, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“You’re always so full of wisdom,” she teased, letting out a small, tired laugh.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his gaze dropping to her lips for the briefest second before meeting her eyes again. “You should listen to me more often,” he murmured, his voice now so low it was almost a whisper. “I only have your best interests at heart, Jiyeonie.”

"Mhm, I'm fine." Luna playfully rolled her eyes at him which Jeonghan caught considering he hadn't taken his eyes off her yet.

Jeonghan carefully eyed her seat and reached for the base and with one quick tug, he pulled her closer before turning his head slightly, his voice smooth and low as he leaned just a bit closer to her, his breath brushing against the shell of her ear. “Say whatever you want but you seem to have a hard time keeping up with them, Nana-ya,” he teased, his tone both condescending and affectionate, his words laced with a quiet, teasing chuckle.

He used that familiar pet name, one that made her heart skip in ways she tried to ignore.

Luna scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “I was keeping up just fine, thank you very much.”

“Mm, sure you were.” Jeonghan’s voice was soft, but it was filled with amusement as he slowly turned toward her, his body shifting so he was facing her more directly.

His eyes gleamed mischievously, a spark of playful intent. “You should take care of yourself, hm? You should let me take care of you more,” he cooed softly, his tone dipping into that dangerously low, smooth register that always made her stomach twist.

Jeonghan wasn’t looking at her like a friend, not anymore, and it made her blood run warmer.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against the side of her face as he spoke. His tone was so soft, so intimate, it made her heart race even though the words themselves were teasing.

The way he said it, like she was something fragile, something precious that needed looking after— it was disarming.

Luna raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in her seat as if to regain some distance, though the playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. “You'll take care of me?” she repeated, her voice challenging but soft.

Jeonghan leaned in closer, his face just inches from hers now. The scent of his cologne— earthy, slightly musky, and so distinctly him— filled her senses.

“Since you’ve clearly been overexerting yourself. In practice too, you've been overworking yourself,” he said in that smooth, deep tone, his fingers lightly brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face, his touch feather-light yet deliberate. “You know how I hate seeing you tired, Jiyeonie.”

The way he spoke, the way his voice dropped into something so soft and intimate, made Luna’s pulse quicken. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her face as if she were the only thing that mattered in the entire room.

The others were still laughing, still packing up, but to Jeonghan, none of it existed. There was only her.

Luna swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, though she fought to keep her composure. She knew him too well— knew that behind the teasing, there was something deeper. Something simmering beneath the surface.

“You’re really laying it on thick tonight, Han,” she teased back, her voice a bit quieter now, the nickname slipping out before she could stop herself. “Are you worried about me?”

Jeonghan eyes darkened slightly, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile as his gaze flickered down to her lips before slowly meeting her eyes again. “I always worry about you,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper now, intimate and deep.

His words hung in the air between them, thick with unspoken tension, the kind that made Luna’s breath catch in her throat.

She was drawn to it, to him, even though every rational part of her brain screamed at her to keep her guard up. But Jeonghan had a way of getting under her skin, making her want things she knew she shouldn’t.

Before she could reply, his hand brushed against hers, just a light, fleeting touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through her. She glanced down at their hands, the small contact sending her heart racing, but when she looked back up at him, his eyes were still fixed on hers, unrelenting, waiting.

“You’ve been acting strange lately,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, as if the weight of the moment was pressing down on her.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Strange? I thought I was always like this with you.” His tone was playful, but there was a seriousness behind his words, a truth he wasn’t ready to say outright.

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, though her lips twitched into a small smile. “No, you haven’t. Not like this.” She paused, her voice dropping lower, more serious. “What changed, Jeonghan?”

Luna knew what changed... she just wanted to hear it come out of his mouth… she needed to hear it.

The tension between them thickened, palpable, both of them fully aware of what wasn’t being said.

Before she could respond, their conversation was interrupted by the sudden noise of Seungcheol calling everyone to gather up. The leader’s voice cut through the moment like a knife, and Luna could feel the tension between her and Jeonghan dissipate as reality sank back in.

Jeonghan leaned back slightly, his hand still resting on the back of her chair as he gave her a small, knowing smile. “Looks like we’re being summoned,” he said softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

The rest of the group began to gather their things, Seungcheol rounding everyone up with the ease of someone used to managing chaos. Hoshi, Seungkwan, and Dokyeom finally stopped their dancing, though they were still buzzing with energy as they made their way over to the group.

“Come on,” Jeonghan murmured, standing up from his seat and offering Luna’s hand.

She took it without hesitation, letting him help her up from the chair, her legs still slightly wobbly from all the dancing. As they made their way to the exit, saying goodbye to everyone as they prepared to head home, Jeonghan kept close to her side.

They exchanged quiet goodbyes with the other members, Seungcheol reminding everyone to get some rest before they had to jump back into work the next day.

Once the farewells were done, Jeonghan gently guided Luna toward his car. “Come on,” he said softly, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back as he led her through the parking lot. “I didn’t drink much, I’ll drive us back.”

The air between them felt heavier now, quieter, as if the rest of the world had faded into the background, leaving only the two of them.

Luna didn’t protest as they reached his car, slipping into the passenger seat as Jeonghan closed the door behind her. The sound of the car door shutting felt final like they were cocooned in their own little world now, separated from the noise and energy of the night.

Jeonghan slid into the driver’s seat and started the car, the low hum of the engine filling the silence. As they pulled out of the parking lot, the city lights reflecting off the windows, the tension that had been simmering between them earlier seemed to settle back in, quiet but palpable.

The hum of the car engine blended with the soft pattern of rain beginning to fall against the windshield. The city lights blurred as droplets streaked across the glass, casting soft reflections inside the car. It was a peaceful silence but charged, like the calm before a storm. Everything felt heightened in this small space— the closeness, the warmth, the electricity between them that neither could ignore.

Luna had leaned back, her eyes lazily scanning the passing scenery as she twirled the lollipop in her mouth. Jeonghan’s hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his focus on the road, but his attention clearly elsewhere.

Finally, Jeonghan broke the silence, his voice soft but cutting through the quiet like the first crack of thunder. “You really do push yourself too hard,” he murmured, the tone carrying both amusement and concern. He glanced sideways at her, just for a second, catching the way her lips tugged into a smile.

Luna turned her head to face him, the corners of her mouth lifting into a playful smirk. “You sound like a broken record,” she teased lightly, her voice tinged with laughter. “Have you forgotten you told me that already, or have you just got nothing new to say?”

Jeonghan chuckled a deep sound that filled the quiet car. “I’m just reminding you,” he said, his gaze flicking toward her briefly before returning to the road. “Someone has to take care of you.”

Luna snorted softly, shaking her head. “I think I’m doing fine. You should worry about yourself.”

“Me?” Jeonghan’s eyebrows lifted in mock offense. “I’m perfect.”

Luna rolled her eyes, the lollipop making a soft clack as she pulled it out of her mouth and pointed it at him. “You and your ego, I swear. If your head gets any bigger, you’ll need to get a bigger car.”

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Please, Jiyeonie, you like it.”

She shot him a playful glare but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “You think you know me so well.”

“I do,” he said confidently, his tone casual yet carrying a weight behind it. “I know you push yourself because you hate being the first to give up. You’d rather collapse than admit you’re tired.”

Luna blinked, surprised at how easily he’d read her, though she shouldn’t have been. Jeonghan always had a way of seeing through her, peeling back layers without even trying. She shrugged, trying to play it off. “Maybe.”

The rain started coming down heavier, drumming against the roof. The windshield wipers moved in a steady rhythm, slicing through the water, but it did nothing to cut through the thickening tension between them.

“You don’t have to impress anyone, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan said quietly, his tone softer now, more sincere. “Not even me.”

Luna felt a warmth spread through her at his words, but she masked it with a grin. “Who says I’m trying to impress you?”

Jeonghan glanced at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Oh, so it’s just me then?”

Luna scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jeonghan smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Too late.”

Luna groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Why do I even bother talking to you?”

“Because you love me,” he said simply, the teasing tone never leaving his voice.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

There was a pause in their conversation, a lull filled by the steady rhythm of rain against the windshield. The city lights blurred past them, casting soft reflections across Luna’s face, her features illuminated in a soft, almost ethereal glow

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it— maybe it was the lingering effect of the alcohol, or maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t help himself—but the words slipped out before he could stop himself.

“Have I told you that you look beautiful today?” Jeonghan asked, his tone casual as he changed the topic, almost too casual for the weight those words carried.

Luna’s head turned toward him, her eyebrows raising in surprise, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She pulled the lollipop from her mouth, twirling it between her fingers as she gave him a teasing look. “I don’t think you have,” she replied, her voice light, playful. “Is that something you’re just realizing now?”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, I’ve known it all night,” he said smoothly, his voice dipping into that soft, dangerously teasing tone he often used with her. “I just didn’t get around to saying it until now.”

Luna leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs as she twirled the lollipop stick absentmindedly. “Well, thank you for your delayed observation,” she said with a mock-serious nod. “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to admire me while I was dancing.”

He smiled, not denying it. “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than admiring.” His eyes glinted with mischief, though his voice remained steady and calm, the type of calm that made her heart skip a beat.

Luna rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the warmth that spread across her cheeks. She looked out the window to hide the smile threatening to break across her face. “Always so smooth, Hannie.”

“You love it when I’m smooth,” he replied, his voice dipping lower, softer, as he glanced at her again. There was something different in his gaze this time—something that made the air between them feel heavier, more charged.

Luna’s smile faded slightly, though not from discomfort. There was something in the way he was looking at her, something that made her pulse quicken despite herself. She didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to stare out at the rain as it blurred against the glass, her mind racing with thoughts she had tried to push aside for a long time.

Luna knew this game.

She knew how Jeonghan flirted— it was playful, light, teasing, always with a little smirk and a sparkle in his eyes. He had flirted with her before more so these last couple of months and she had always brushed it off, played along, knowing it didn’t mean anything.

But tonight felt different. There was something in the way his eyes lingered on her, the way his voice dropped into that dangerously low tone whenever he spoke to her. It made her stomach twist in ways that scared her.

She told herself it was just him being Jeonghan, that he hadn’t changed, that this was just how he was. But deep down, she couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between them. She had seen it in the way he looked at her tonight, had felt it in the way he hovered near her during the party, the way his fingers brushed hers when he helped her out of her chair earlier.

It wasn’t just friendly. It was something more, something heavier, something that made her chest tighten with a mix of hope and fear.

And yet… Luna couldn’t help herself.

She was drawn to it, drawn to him.

Even though she had promised herself she wouldn’t let her heart win again, even though she had sworn to herself that she wouldn’t let her guard down, she was losing the battle.

It was impossible to resist Yoon Jeonghan, especially when he looked at her like she was the only person in the room— he had a way of making her feel like the center of his universe, even when he was surrounded by others.

It was intoxicating.

Dangerous.

But Bae Jiyeon was drawn to it all the same.

She knew she shouldn’t.

She knew it was risky, that letting herself fall again would only lead to heartache.

But as she sat there, feeling his eyes on her, feeling the warmth of his presence beside her, she wondered if maybe— just maybe— she was willing to take that risk again.

“You’re such a flirt. In fact, you’re bolder than normal,” Luna allowed herself to chuckle.

Jeonghan's fingers tightened on the steering wheel for a moment as her words lingered between them.

Where had this sudden boldness come from?

He didn't know.

Sure, he flirted, teased, and bantered with Luna— it was their dynamic, the rhythm they’d fallen into after years of knowing each other.

But something about these past few months and more so tonight felt different.

Maybe it was the few drinks he’d had earlier, loosening his inhibitions just enough to say the things he’d been holding back. Or maybe it was desperation, the realization that he had been skirting around his feelings for far too long.

Maybe it was because they were alone, away from the rest of the group, the tension between them simmering just beneath the surface.

Maybe it was the way she looked tonight and every day— beautiful, radiant like she didn’t even realize the effect she had on him.

Maybe it was just her.

Maybe it had always been her.

He had always been good at hiding his emotions, at keeping things under wraps, but with Luna… it was different.

She had a way of breaking through his defenses without even trying. He could still remember the way she looked at him when she confessed last year— the heartbreak in her eyes when he rejected her. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he had. And he’d been thinking about it ever since.

Or maybe it was the fact that he was tired of pretending he didn’t feel something for her, something more than friendship.

He had spent so long avoiding this, avoiding her, because he was scared. Scared of what it would mean if he admitted to himself that he had feelings for her.

But sitting here, in this small, quiet space with the rain falling softly around them, he felt like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was drawn to her— had always been drawn to her— but tonight, it was different.

Whatever it was, he was allowing himself to be a little reckless.

The rain intensified, the rhythmic sound growing louder as they drove through the quiet streets back to the dorm. The world outside the car was dark and blurred, but inside, the tension was so thick it felt like something tangible.

Every second they spent in this small, enclosed space made the air feel heavier, more charged. Jeonghan could feel it in every breath, in every glance she threw his way.

Tonight, he was ready to risk it.

He wasn’t sure how he had managed to keep himself in check for so long, because right now, all he wanted was her.

Jeonghan cleared his throat, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said you look beautiful. I wasn’t just saying that to flatter you,” he murmured, his tone soft but deliberate. “You really do look beautiful tonight.”

“Mm… thank you,” Luna said as she shifted in her seat slightly, pulling her legs up underneath her as she leaned against the car door.

Jeonghan glanced at her again, his heart skipping a beat when he saw her looking back at him and for a moment, he was gone. She was smiling softly, her eyes bright despite the late hour, her lips still stained from the lollipop she had been playing with all night.

And in that moment, Jeonghan realized he was a goner.

Completely and utterly lost.

The way she looked bathed in the faint glow of the dashboard lights, her lips curling around her words, her eyes dancing with mischief. The subtle scent of her perfume filled the car, a warm and intoxicating mix that tugged at his senses.

Luna was talking, her voice a tantalizing melody yet Jeonghan couldn’t make out what she was saying— he was…. completely and utterly lost. And then, her hand— the gentle, casual touch as she caressed his shoulder while she talked, sending a jolt through his chest like a spark had just ignited something inside him.

How was he supposed to concentrate on driving when every part of him was tuned into her?

Jeonghan realized, with a sudden, amused thought, that there were a few things you absolutely shouldn’t do while driving: use your phone, be drunk, speed recklessly… and have Bae Jiyeon sitting in your passenger seat.

It was dangerous.

The kind of danger that made him wonder if he was more likely to crash the car from being so utterly distracted by her.

Jeonghan’s grip on the wheel tightened as he forced himself to focus on the road ahead. But then he glanced at her again, and his breath caught for a second.

Luna was watching him— no, she was staring at him with a smug look in her eyes, as if she knew exactly what she was doing to him.

Of course, she knew. She always knew.

That smugness in her expression, the way her lips twitched as if she was enjoying watching him squirm— it was maddening.

Luna was enjoying this. Petty as she could be, she was reveling in the way he was slowly unraveling under her gaze.

And just like that, Luna decided to throw all of her fucks out the window.

“Am I going to be the cause of our collective demise once you crash this car?” Luna chuckled as she addressed Jeonghan’s focus on her despite driving.

“You think this is funny?” he muttered, his voice low, laced with that familiar teasing edge. He didn’t even try to hide the amusement in his tone, despite the frustration simmering underneath.

Luna twirled the lollipop in her mouth, the little pink candy rotating lazily as she continued to stare at him, her eyes glinting mischievously.

She didn’t even bother to answer him— just smirked and leaned back in her seat as if she had already won this silent game they were playing.

There was something in the way she was looking at him now— something deeper than just their usual playful banter. He could feel the heat of her gaze, the way her eyes seemed to trace over him as if she was daring him to do something.

The tension was unbearable, every word they exchanged adding to the weight of it.

Jeonghan knew, at that moment, that any shred of morality or self-restraint he had left was being thrown out the window.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, not when she was looking at him like that, not when every nerve in his body was on fire from just being near her.

He glanced at her again, and this time, he didn’t hold back the flirtation in his voice. “Nana-ya…” he started, his tone smooth, dangerously soft. “If you keep looking at me like that, we might have a problem.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming with challenge as she continued to twirl the lollipop in her mouth. “Oh?” she murmured, feigning innocence, though the glint in her eyes told him she was anything but. “And what kind of problem would that be?”

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked toward her briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “The kind where I stop caring about the road entirely and start caring about something else.”

The implication hung in the air between them, thick with the tension neither of them was willing to fully acknowledge yet.

Luna giggled, leaning back against the seat, twirling the lollipop between her fingers like she was playing with the moment. “You’re such a flirt, Hannie,” she said, shaking her head slightly. Her voice was light, but there was a warmth there, something knowing as if she was fully aware of the effect she had on him.

“And you love it,” Jeonghan shot back, his tone a mix of teasing and certainty.

He wasn’t even asking— it was a fact between them.

Luna tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Maybe I do,” she admitted, licking her lips as she discarded the stick. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel. “Too late,” he cooed, his voice slipping into that condescending tone again, the one he knew always made her roll her eyes. “I think you like it when I tease you, Jiyeonie.”

She glanced at him from the side, the soft glow from the dashboard lights catching in her eyes. “And I think you talk too much,” she retorted, though her smile betrayed her.

“Do I?” Jeonghan’s voice dipped lower, softer, almost a whisper as he added, “I think you like it when I talk to you like this.”

Luna shifted in her seat, crossing her arms and giving him a side-eye. “You think a lot of things, don’t you?”

He grinned at her defiance, leaning slightly toward her as he replied, “And I’m usually right, aren’t I?”

Luna let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she watched the rain streak across the windshield. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm,” Jeonghan hummed, his voice a lazy drawl. “But you’re still here.”

“Who would you gawk at if I wasn’t?” Luna smirked.

The rain picked up, soft at first, then heavier, drumming on the windshield in rhythm with Jeonghan's increasingly erratic thoughts. The world outside was blurred, the soft streetlights hazy in the downpour, but inside the car, the tension was palpable.

Jeonghan's fingers tightened around the steering wheel as if holding on for dear life, not because of the rain, but because of the woman sitting next to him, practically radiating smug confidence.

Luna's presence was overwhelming, and the teasing glint in her eyes felt like a challenge he wasn't sure he could resist.

Her fingers idly twirled the lollipop in her mouth. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, and the maddening part was how much she was enjoying every second of it. Her smirk, and her playfulness all gnawed at him in the best and worst ways possible.

Everything about her posture screamed cat-that-got-the-canary— as if she knew exactly how close Jeonghan was to cracking.

If only he knew what would happen if he did.

“Brat,” Jeonghan let out a sharp breath through his nose, trying to focus on the road ahead, though it was becoming increasingly impossible. Every glance her way made his pulse quicken, made the frustration in him grow.

And then, without thinking, his hand left the wheel.

It was quick, almost instinctual, like gravity had pulled him toward her. His palm landed on her thigh-firm, commanding-sending a jolt of heat up her leg. His fingers splayed against the soft fabric of her sheer black tights, the warmth of her skin radiating through the material. His touch was possessive, but his grip remained gentle as if he was testing the boundaries, daring her to stop him.

Luna's breath hitched, just slightly, but she didn't push his hand away. Instead, she shifted in her seat, just enough to press into his touch, amplifying the tension that had already settled thickly between them.

Her eyes flicked down to where his hand rested, then back up to his face, and she bit her lower lip, a smirk still tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Hannie," she practically purred, her voice sweet but laced with mischief. "Is that really the safest thing to do while driving?"

Jeonghan's fingers flexed against her thigh, a slow, deliberate movement that made her feel the weight of his touch even more. He tilted his head toward her, eyes dark and heavy-lidded, the playful tone from before replaced with something deeper, something more intense. His voice came out in a low, velvety murmur.

"Safe?" he repeated, his lips curling into a dangerous smile. "I am holding onto you for safety, Jiyeonie."

Luna's eyes glimmered with challenge, her heartbeat quickening, though she'd never let him know it. She leaned in slightly, her hand drifting toward his arm, her fingertips brushing against his wrist where it rested on her leg. Her voice was just as teasing, if not more, as she shot back, "You seem awfully distracted for someone who's supposed to be focused on the road."

Jeonghan chuckled under his breath, the sound soft and low, the kind of laugh that sent a shiver down her spine. "I am distracted," he admitted, his thumb now tracing a lazy circle on her thigh. His eyes darted from the road back to her, his gaze heavy with desire. "You're not exactly helping, pretty girl."

Luna's lips curved into a smirk, one that practically dared him to go further. "Focus, Hannie," she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jeonghan shot her a look, one eyebrow raised, clearly amused by her brattiness.

"I’m focused," he said smoothly, his voice dropping even lower. He squeezed her thigh slightly, his fingers pressing in just enough to make her gasp, though it was clear from the look in her eyes that she loved it.

The rain continued to pour, the rhythmic sound of droplets against the windshield only adding to the charged atmosphere inside the car. The world outside was quiet, but inside, the storm between them was brewing, and neither of them seemed interested in calming it.

Luna's heartbeat quickened as she shifted in her seat again, crossing her legs, which only served to push his hand higher up her thigh. She gave him a sideways glance, the corner of her mouth lifting in a taunting smile. "Big talk for someone who's barely keeping his eyes on the road."

Jeonghan's jaw clenched slightly, though there was no anger behind it— just the overwhelming desire to wipe that smug look off her face. He could feel the heat rising between them, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.

But God, did he love it.

There was something about the way Luna teased him, the way she pushed and pushed until he was at the edge of his control. And maybe that was why he never stopped her. Maybe he wanted her to push him past his limits. Maybe he wanted to see just how far he could fall before losing himself completely

Without thinking, his hand slid further up her thigh, his fingertips brushing against the seam of her shorts, the movement slow, deliberate, teasing. His voice was a soft purr as he spoke, his lips barely moving.

"Do you really want to keep testing me, Bae Jiyeon?"

Luna let out a soft, breathy laugh, her lips curling into a devilish smile. "Why not?" she shot back, her voice playful but challenging. "It's fun watching you angry. I rarely get to see you even remotely pissed off.”

Jeonghan's grip tightened ever so slightly, his fingers digging into her skin, but the way his eyes darkened told her everything she needed to know. He was close— so close to giving in to whatever dangerous game they were playing. His thumb brushed lightly against the inside of her thigh, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

The car slowed as they neared finally reached the dorm, the streetlights casting long shadows on the wet pavement. The rain had picked up, turning into a torrential downpour, the sound of it filling the space between them.

But the tension— the crackling, electrifying tension-remained. Neither of them said a word as Jeonghan pulled into the parking lot, the engine's hum cutting off as he switched off the ignition before removing his seatbelt.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the rain hammering against the roof of the car, the only sound between them. Jeonghan's hand still rested on her thigh, his grip firm but not uncomfortable. He turned to face her, his eyes dark and unreadable as they locked onto hers.

Luna met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. The playful banter was gone, replaced by something heavier, something far more dangerous. Her pulse raced as she waited, the silence between them thick with anticipation.

And then, without a word, Jeonghan leaned in. His breath was warm against her skin, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers as he whispered, "Do you know you make me go insane?”

Luna's breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering in her chest. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she just stared at him, her pulse quickening as she felt the heat of his body so close to hers.

Jeonghan's eyes flicked down to her lips, then back up to her eyes, a slow smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "But I think you already knew that, didn't you?"

Luna swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper as she replied, "Maybe. But I like hearing you say it."

Jeonghan's smile widened, his hand tightening ever so slightly on her thigh as he whispered, "Then I'll say it as many times as you want."

Luna's breath hitched, her pulse racing as she felt the tension between them reach its breaking point. But before either of them could say another word, the sound of the rain grew louder, drowning out everything else.

And in that moment, it wasn't the storm outside that threatened to consume them— it was the storm brewing between them, one that neither of them seemed willing to stop.

Jeonghan's breath was hot against Luna's face, his voice dropping into that intoxicating whisper that sent shivers racing up her spine. "What else do you want to hear me say, hm?"

His lips hovered dangerously close to hers, his words soft but laced with that infuriating, devastating sweetness that he always seemed to use to unravel her.

Luna sat frozen in her seat, the weight of his gaze holding her captive as her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

She couldn't speak.

Couldn't move.

She could only stare back at him, helpless beneath the intensity in his eyes, the heat of his breath against her skin making her dizzy.

And Jeonghan noticed it all.

The way she was falling apart under him, the way her lips parted just slightly but no words came out, the way her chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath.

It made him smirk, that familiar, cocky smile that she loved and hated at the same time.

He knew what he was doing to her. He always did.

He took pride in being the only one to make the big, bad, and confident Bae Jiyeon crumble.

His hand slid from her thigh to her cheek, his fingers brushing against her skin with such a delicate touch, as though he were savoring the moment, every second of it.

His thumb grazed her bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity straight through her body.

"Wanna hear how breathtaking you are?" Jeonghan's voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker underneath— something deeper. "How much I love hearing your voice?" His fingers tangled in her hair as his thumb stroked her jaw. "How sweet you smell, Jiyeonie?"

Speechless.

Luna was utterly speechless.

“Anything. I’ll say anything for you, however much you want, pretty angel. Just tell me.”

Jeonghan said it all in that baby-talk voice that always drove her crazy, soft and low and teasing. The tone wrapped around her like a warm blanket, lulling her into a state of pure intoxication. Every word felt like a caress, every breath of his like a temptation.

He was ruining her, and he knew it.

Luna couldn't help herself. She leaned back against the door of the car, her head resting on the window as she stared at him, mesmerized. His fingers trailed through her hair, and his eyes were dark, filled with something she couldn't quite place— scanned every inch of her face, lingering on her lips.

She didn't know how it had come to this.

How she had gone from playful banter to this suffocating, unrelenting tension that made her feel like she was on the edge of something dangerous, something that once started, neither of them could take back.

But maybe she didn't want to take it back.

Jeonghan leaned in closer, his lips inches from hers as he tilted his head, his gaze dropping to the lollipop stick still hanging from her mouth. "Always wanted to know what it tastes like," he murmured, his voice smooth, almost playful.

For a split second, a dumb part of Luna thought he meant the lollipop itself, and her mind raced to think of a witty comeback. But before she could say anything, Jeonghan's hand reached up, gently pulling the stick from her lips, his eyes never leaving hers.

And then, without another word, his fingers caught her chin between them, holding her still as he leaned in closer.

It happened so quickly and so slowly all at once. One second, he was hovering in front of her, teasing her with the nearness of his lips. The next, his mouth was on hers, capturing her in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs and sent her heart into a freefall.

The first touch of his lips against hers was soft, and tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then, when he felt her lips part beneath his when he heard the soft, almost inaudible gasp that escaped her— he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of her neck as he pulled her closer.

For years, they had danced around this moment. Years of stolen glances, of teasing words and almost-touches. Years of denying what they both knew was there, simmering beneath the surface, too dangerous to acknowledge.

But now, with the rain pouring down around them, the car windows fogging up from the heat of their breath, and the tension that crackled between them like electricity— there was no more denying it.

Jeonghan's lips moved against hers with a softness that belied the intensity of the feelings that had been building up inside him for so long. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging gently as his other hand slid down her neck, caressing the skin there before resting just above her collarbone.

Luna's mind was a blur, her thoughts spinning as she melted into him, her body reacting instinctively to the heat of his touch. She had imagined this moment so many times— late at night, when she couldn't sleep, wondering what it would feel like to finally close the distance between them. But nothing could have prepared her for the reality of it.

Nothing could have prepared her for the way his lips felt against hers, soft but demanding or the way his hand cradled the back of her head like she was something precious. The way his breath hitched when she responded when she kissed him back with just as much hunger as if she had been waiting for this just as long as he had.

At that moment, everything else fell away— the rain, the car, the world outside. All that mattered was him, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hand on her skin.

All the years of pining, of holding back, of pretending they didn't feel what they did— it all dissolved in the heat of the kiss.

Jeonghan groaned softly, the sound vibrating against her lips as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss even further. His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her closer as if he couldn't bear the thought of even an inch of space between them.

Luna's hands found their way to his chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer, her body arching toward him instinctively. The kiss was everything she had imagined and more fiery, desperate, filled with years of pent-up longing.

And yet, there was a softness to it, too. A tenderness in the way his thumb brushed her cheek, in the way his lips softened against hers as if he was savoring every second of it.

Her mind was spinning, her heart pounding in her chest as they kissed, the sound of the rain outside only intensifying the moment, creating a cocoon of intimacy around them. This kiss was more than just a kiss— it was a culmination of everything that had been building between them for years.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they panted softly, the air between them thick with the weight of what had just happened.

Jeonghan's hand was still cradling her face, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek as he stared down at her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite place.

"Jiyeon-ah," he whispered, his voice rough, his breath warm against her lips. He didn't say anything else—he didn't need to.

Everything he was feeling was written in the way he looked at her, in the way his fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against her skin.

Luna's heart was still racing, her mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. But when she met his gaze, saw the vulnerability in his eyes, she knew.

This wasn't just a moment. This was everything they had been denying, everything they had been too afraid to acknowledge.

Jeonghan didn’t waste a second. As soon as the kiss broke, his lips still tingling from the warmth of hers, he popped the lollipop he was still holding in between his fingers back into his mouth with a smirk, tasting the lingering sweetness that seemed insignificant compared to the taste of her lips.

Without a word, he grabbed her purse from the back seat and pushed open his door, stepping out into the pouring rain.

The downpour was relentless, soaking him to the bone the moment he left the car, but he didn’t care. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his clothes sticking to his skin as he jogged around the front of the car, his shoes splashing in the puddles that had formed beneath him. The rain chilled him, but the heat still simmering in his veins from their kiss overpowered the cold.

Luna was still frozen in her seat, her mind reeling from the intensity of what had just happened.

The taste of Jeonghan's kiss was still fresh on her lips, her pulse racing, every nerve ending in her body on fire. She hadn’t even noticed that Jeonghan had left the car, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts as she replayed the feel of his lips, the way his hand had tangled in her hair, the way he had kissed her like he was claiming her.

She was only brought back to reality when the passenger door opened with a wet, metallic groan, and Jeonghan, drenched and dripping, crouched down to meet her wide-eyed gaze.

His eyes were dark, filled with something unreadable as his hands moved to her seatbelt, carefully unclipping it before leaning in just enough for her to catch the scent of rain and his cologne, now mingling with the smell of wet clothes “Come on,” he murmured, his voice still rough from the kiss.

His fingers found hers, intertwining with them as he gently but firmly pulled her out of the car and into the rain.

The cold rain hit her like a shock, drenching her instantly as her shoes splashed into a puddle beside the curb. She barely had time to register the chill because Jeonghan’s hand tightened around hers, pulling her toward the dorm entrance with a sense of urgency like he couldn’t bear to be apart from her for even another second.

They sprinted through the rain, hand in hand, as it poured relentlessly, drenching both of them until their clothes clung to their bodies. Luna’s breath came in quick, ragged gasps, her heart still hammering from the kiss, from the feel of Jeonghan’s fingers tightly gripping hers.

By the time they reached the dorm building’s entrance, they were soaked, water dripping from their hair and clothes, but neither of them seemed to care.

Jeonghan pulled open the door with one swift motion, leading her inside, their footsteps echoing off the tiled floor as they hurried toward the elevator. As soon as the elevator doors slid shut, the tension snapped back into place, stronger and more electric than before.

The rain had done nothing to cool the heat simmering between them. If anything, it had only intensified it.

Jeonghan stood there for a second, his chest rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths, his wet hair sticking to his forehead, and water droplets running down his face.

And then, without warning, he yanked the lollipop from his mouth and threw it carelessly to the floor of the elevator, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her knees go weak.

In one swift motion, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her back against the elevator wall, his body pressing against hers, pinning her in place. His lips crashed into hers again, desperate, hungry, like he couldn’t wait another second to taste her again.

Luna’s hands flew to his chest, fingers curling into the wet fabric of his shirt as she kissed him back just as desperately, just as hungrily. The heat between them was unbearable, the feel of his body against hers, the taste of his lips— everything about him was overwhelming her senses, and she couldn’t get enough.

Between kisses, Jeonghan’s breath was ragged, his voice low and rough. “God, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long.”

Luna’s response was a soft gasp as his hand slid up her side, pressing her closer against the wall. “Han– oppa…”

He kissed her again, cutting off her words, his lips moving against hers with a fierce intensity. “You don’t even know how much I wanted this, Jiyeonie,” he whispered, his breath hot against her mouth as he pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with desire.

Luna couldn’t speak.

Couldn’t think.

All she could do was feel— the heat of his body, the way his fingers dug into her waist, the way his lips moved against hers, demanding and relentless. She had dreamed of this moment for so long, imagined it in a thousand different ways, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

Nothing could compare to the way Jeonghan kissed her like he was starving like he needed her to breathe.

The elevator dinged, the sound almost lost in the haze of their kiss. Jeonghan pulled away just long enough to glance at the floor number before a mischievous smirk tugged at his lips. He grabbed her hand again, yanking her out of the elevator as the doors opened.

Their footsteps were hurried as they made their way to his apartment, water still dripping from their clothes and hair. Without a second thought, Jeonghan typed his password, fumbling slightly as he unlocked the door in his haste.

The moment it swung open, he pulled her inside, slamming the door shut behind them with a loud thud, locking it in one fluid motion. Before Luna could even catch her breath, Jeonghan had her pressed up against the door, his hands braced on either side of her head as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against hers again, teasing.

“You’re staying here with me tonight, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft, but the heat in his eyes was unmistakable.

Luna barely had time to nod before his lips were on hers again, his hands sliding down her waist, pulling her flush against him as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any space between them.

The intensity of the kiss made her dizzy, her body reacting on instinct, her hands tangling in his soaked hair as she kissed him back with equal fervor. They were both drenched, clothes sticking to their skin, hair dripping water onto the floor, but none of it mattered.

All that mattered was this— this moment, this kiss, this connection that had been building for years, finally unleashed with a force neither of them could control.

Jeonghan’s hand slid up her side, fingers grazing her wet skin beneath her soaked shirt, making her shiver despite the heat between them. His lips trailed from her mouth to her jaw, down to her neck, where he left a trail of soft, teasing kisses, his breath warm against her skin.

Luna’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening in his hair as her head tilted back, giving him more access. “Hannie…” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her mind spinning from the overwhelming sensation of his touch, his lips, his body pressed so firmly against hers.

“Nana-ya…” he hummed back, his voice rough and filled with so much emotion, so much want, that it made her knees buckle beneath her. “I’m never letting you go after this. You know that right?”

Jeonghan couldn’t get enough of her— her taste, her scent, the way she fit so perfectly in his arms. Every kiss was deeper, more desperate like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life.

His hand slid beneath her shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of her waist, feeling the way her body trembled under his touch. He pressed his lips to the soft skin of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her, a mix of rain, shampoo, and something uniquely Luna.

God, she’s perfect.

He couldn't help the thought that ran through his mind, as if seeing her, feeling her like this, up close, made him realize just how breathtaking she truly was. Every inch of her, from the way she gasped softly at his touch to the way her hands clung to him as though he was the only thing keeping her grounded, drove him mad with need.

Luna’s mind was a mess, her body responding to him in ways she hadn’t imagined. Every brush of his lips on her skin sent a shiver down her spine, and the way his hands roamed over her like he was memorizing her made her heart race uncontrollably.

She’d dreamed of this moment countless times— of Jeonghan looking at her the way he was now, touching her like he couldn’t get enough. But now that it was happening, it was so much more than she ever imagined.

He’s really here. This is really happening.

His hands, his mouth, the way he said her name— it all felt too good to be real like she was living in some fantasy she had conjured. But the heat of his breath against her neck, the way his body pressed into hers, was too intense to be anything but reality. And now that they had crossed this line, she didn’t want to stop.

She didn’t want to think about the consequences, the risks, or the years they had tiptoed around their feelings.

All she wanted was Jeonghan.

Jeonghan’s lips moved back up to her mouth, capturing her in another deep, urgent kiss. His hand slid further under her shirt, his thumb brushing against her ribs, drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

“I hated what I did to you— I shouldn’t have lied to you about my feelings,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low, almost a growl.

Luna’s heart skipped a beat, her hands tightening their grip on his damp shirt. She looked into his eyes, breathless, her lips still tingling from his kiss. “Then why did you?” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her eyes searched his, wanting to understand why he had kepthis feelings to himself for so long.

Jeonghan's eyes darkened slightly as he rested his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the small space between them. "I was scared," he confessed softly, his voice tinged with something between regret and longing.

But not anymore, Jeonghan thought to himself, feeling the weight of all the unspoken words they had left hanging in the air for years.

He had been so careful, so patient, but now that he had her here, now that he had tasted what they could be together, there was no going back.

Jeonghan can't let her go. Not now.

Luna’s heart ached at his words, but a part of her understood.

They had always been so careful, always so focused on the group, on protecting what they had built together. But she couldn’t stop the pang of frustration that crept in. They had wasted so much time, so many years dancing around each other, denying what was always there, just beneath the surface.

“We could have had this sooner,” she murmured, her voice barely audible as she cupped his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek.

Jeonghan leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of her hands on his skin. “I know,” he breathed out, his lips brushing against hers again, softer this time, almost tender. “But I was afraid… of how much I wanted you.”

Those words sent a fresh wave of heat through her, her body reacting instantly to the intensity in his voice.

She didn’t think she could want him more than she already did, but somehow, hearing him admit that he had been holding back for so long only made her desire for him stronger.

Jeonghan’s hands slid up her sides, pushing the wet fabric of her shirt higher, his fingers skimming the bare skin of her stomach. “You’re driving me crazy, Bae Jiyeon,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and desire as his lips found hers again, their kiss deeper, more urgent than before.

Luna’s hands slipped into his hair, tugging him closer as she kissed him back with equal fervor, her mind racing with the realization that they were finally here, that everything they had held back for so long was finally pouring out between them, unstoppable, uncontrollable.

“I don’t want to stop,” Jeonghan whispered against her lips, his hands trembling slightly as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “I don’t think I can.”

Luna’s heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Then don’t,” she whispered back, her voice filled with the same desperation, the same need that had been building between them for years.

Jeonghan’s eyes darkened at her words, his hand sliding into her hair as he kissed her again, harder this time, more possessive. His other hand trailed down her side, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Every kiss, every touch, felt like a promise— one that neither of them was willing to break. The world outside their bubble no longer existed. It was just them— Jeonghan and Luna— finally giving in to the undeniable connection they had tried so hard to resist for years.

The heat between them was unbearable, and consuming, and neither of them cared about the consequences anymore.

They had waited long enough.

Jeonghan's lips were relentless, his hands roaming over her with a desperation that mirrored her own. Luna's fingers curled into his hair, tugging gently as she kissed him back with equal fervor. They had waited so long for this moment, and now that it was here, neither of them wanted it to end.

Jeonghan's hands slid down her back, pulling her even closer as if he wanted to merge their bodies into one. Luna's breath hitched as she felt his desire matching her own, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that left her dizzy.

His touch was electric, his kisses like a drug she couldn't get enough of. She wanted more— needed more of him.

Their kisses grew deeper, more intense as if they were trying to communicate everything they had left unsaid for years through their touch alone.

Luna's hands roamed over his chest, and his shoulders, memorizing the feel of him, the warmth of his skin. Jeonghan's fingers traced patterns on her back, his lips trailing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

Jeonghan pulled away slightly, his breath still mingling with hers, his eyes searching her face for any sign of hesitation.

The tension between them still buzzed in the air, but now there was a softness there, a quiet moment of clarity that hung heavy between their shared breaths. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently against her skin as if he was grounding himself in her presence, ensuring she was okay.

“Jiyeon…” Jeonghan’s voice was soft now, barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of everything that had happened between them over the years. “If we do this…” He paused, his dark eyes locking with hers, the intensity in them impossible to miss. “You’re mine.”

There it was— Jeonghan’s possessiveness laid out in a simple, yet potent statement.

It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t a plea.

It was a declaration, one that carried the kind of certainty that had always been a part of him, but now it was directed solely at her.

His gaze didn’t waver, waiting for her response.

For a moment, Luna just blinked, still catching her breath, feeling the heat of his words settling into her. She could feel the intensity of his claim, but it didn’t faze her— she wasn’t the type to be overwhelmed. If anything, it only fueled her.

A small, almost mischievous smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she tilted her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with that familiar spark of defiance he loved so much.

“Yours, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, voice dripping with that quick wit and teasing edge she wielded so well. “Last I checked, I don’t remember signing any contracts.”

Jeonghan let out a breathy chuckle, his thumb tracing the curve of her jaw. “Oh, I’m pretty sure you signed it the moment you let me kiss you,” he cooed, his tone smooth and teasing, though there was no mistaking the seriousness underlying his words. “But if you need a reminder, I can always make it official.”

Luna’s heart raced as he spoke, the familiar push and pull between them sending her mind into overdrive. She liked the way he challenged her, the way he never let her have the last word easily.

But she wasn’t about to back down. Her eyes narrowed playfully, and she leaned in just a little, her voice dropping into a near whisper as she fired back, “You’ll have to convince me, Hannie.”

Jeonghan grinned, leaning his forehead against hers as a soft laugh escaped him, the warmth of it rolling through the charged air between them. “That’s what I love about you,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, soft and almost condescending in its teasing tone. “You never make it easy.

Jeonghan tilted his head slightly, his breath brushing against her lips again, his fingers gently stroking her cheek as he leaned in, the weight of his words sinking in deeper. “But I wasn’t asking you to make it easy. I like a challenge.” His voice was almost a purr now, each word laced with the kind of softness that only he could pull off while still holding all the control.

“I always win in the end anyway.”

Luna felt a shiver run down her spine at his words, the sensation of his breath on her skin and the teasing tone in his voice doing things to her that she couldn’t fully explain.

Her witty retort died on her tongue, and for the second time today in their back-and-forth, she found herself at a loss for words, simply staring into his eyes.

And Jeonghan knew it— he saw the way her resolve wavered, just for a second, and his smirk deepened, his thumb brushing against her bottom lip.

“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” he cooed softly, his voice dripping with that condescending baby talk he knew always got to her. “Hm? You okay?”

Luna’s heart skipped a beat, her breath catching as she struggled to regain her composure, but the look in his eyes, the way his voice curled around her name, had her completely undone.

All she could manage was a quiet, “Shut up, Yoon Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan grinned, leaning in even closer until his lips were just barely grazing hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them. "I love when you look at me like that... all helpless. You're not as tough as you pretend to be, are you?"

"Jeonghan, please... stop teasing me." Luna’s voice was soft and breathy, almost pleading as she tugged at his shirt, unable to handle how slowly he was drawing everything out.

“No? You don’t like it? I thought you liked it, hm?”Jeonghan teasingly whispered against her lips, his voice full of knowing condescension, taunting her with the fact that she always gave in to him. “It’s not fun when you’re the one being teased, huh?

Jeonghan lowered his head slowly, the glint in his eyes unmistakable as he taunted her with a soft, knowing smirk. His face hovered just inches above hers, his breath warm against her skin. She felt the weight of his gaze, heavy and teasing, as he tilted his head, pretending to consider her predicament. The moment stretched on, tension wrapping around them like a vice.

"So quiet now..." His voice was a low purr, almost a coo, dripping with condescension. He paused deliberately, letting his words sink in before speaking again. "Where's all that fire from earlier, Nana-ya?"

The nickname came out in a soft sing-song, teasing her further as his fingers brushed a stray lock of hair away from her flushed face.

Luna looked up at him, her wide eyes almost innocent, her lips parted in the slightest pout. Her heart raced in her chest, a mix of frustration and need swirling within her. "I can't handle it when you're like this... you know that." Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with a soft, frustrated whine as she pressed her forehead against his chest, her body melting into him, overwhelmed by how effortlessly he unraveled her.

Her words seemed to ignite something in Jeonghan, the way her small, innocent plea tugged at his heart. He couldn't help the way his lips curved into a smirk, his fingers instinctively moving to caress her hair.

"Aw, my poor baby," he cooed, his tone laced with amusement as he stroked her hair, letting his fingertips trace lightly over her scalp. "You really can't handle it, huh?" He whispered into her hair, his voice soft but teasing.

His heart swelled at the way she softened under his touch, completely pliable, like she was made for him to tease, to protect, to hold.

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, giving in to the tenderness that washed over him in waves.

"Alright, alright... come here." His voice softened as he leaned down and scooped her into his arms effortlessly, his strong grip making her feel weightless. She let out a tiny gasp, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck while he lifted her as if she were made of air.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, her body pressed against him as he held her securely, cradling her as if she were the most precious thing in his world. His chest was warm, the steady beat of his heart against hers calming the storm that had raged moments earlier.

Jeonghan pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, "You know I can't resist you when you're like this." His tone was gentle now, the teasing edge replaced by something softer, more protective. He shifted her weight in his arms as he carried her across the room, their bodies still so close, her head resting on his shoulder as she nestled into the crook of his neck.

He pushed open the door to his bedroom with his foot, the soft creak of the door the only sound between them. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of moonlight filtering in through the curtains, casting a pale light over the bed. Jeonghan gently lowered her onto the bed, his hands never leaving her as he carefully settled her down on the plush mattress.

Luna's fingers clung to his shirt, her body still tingling from his touch. She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted as if she didn't want to let go of him just yet.

Jeonghan chuckled softly, "Look at you... so pretty for me. You know I can't resist when you're like this, don't you?" He gently stroked her hair, his voice filled with doting affection, his eyes tracing her features like he couldn't get enough.

Luna's impatient lips found their way along the line of his jaw, teasing, swirling, tasting; her tangled curls brushing against his cheek like a lover's tender caress.

Jeonghan was intoxicated; by her, by this delicious moment that felt like a dream.

His hands, those gentle, long-fingered hands were gently removing her jacket with such finesse, now gripped her hips tightly, pulling her closer against him. He could feel her heat through the thin fabric of her attire, and he groaned, a sound that was swallowed by their ravenous kisses.

Luna gasped, her head tilting back to expose the long, elegant line of her throat. Jeonghan took advantage, his lips and teeth tracing a path of fire down to the hollow at the base of her neck.

Her hands, previously knotted in Jeonghan’s hair, now clawed at his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. He could feel her pulse racing, matching the frantic beat of his own heart.

"Oppa... please. I need you.” Luna’s was voice breathy, a little whimper escaping her as she reached for him, the need in her words almost unbearable.

"Fuck, Jiyeonie," he muttered, his voice a low growl against her skin. "You’re gonna kill me."

"Please, Hannie... I'll be good." Luna breathed out a small, pleading whimper as she promised obedience, her tone soft and submissive, wanting nothing more than to please him. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush against her. He could feel her, hot and wet even through their drenched clothes, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to grind against her like a teenager.

Bae Jiyeon was trying to kill Yoon Jeonghan.

He was sure of it.

"Han," she whimpered, her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging sharply. "Please."

"Please what? Hm," he teased, his voice a low purr. "Tell me what you want."

Luna’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before snapping open again, meeting his gaze. "I want... I want you to take me… please.”

“Take you where? Disneyland?” Jeonghan couldn’t help himself as he smirked down at Luna who was now looking at him with a look mixed with frustration and agitation. “Tell me.”

"Oppa, I'm trying... but you make it so hard." Luna released a soft, frustrated whisper as she whined, biting her lip in frustration, overwhelmed by the way he is teasing her.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl. You can do it. Tell me and I’ll do anything.” Jeonghan cooed as he caressed her cheeks.

Luna swallowed hard, her eyes darkening with desire.

"Fuck me, Hannie. I want you, please.” Luna whispered, her voice barely audible yet laden with desire. Her words were like a matchstick set alight, igniting a wildfire within him.

A jolt of electricity shot through Jeonghan at her words, his cock straining painfully against his zipper. He gripped her chin, tilting her head up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough.

“Fuck me,” Luna said in an instant, desperately.

Jeonghan wasted no time. He grabbed her legs which were still wrapped around his waist. With a desperate and impatient flurry of movement, clothes started flying from all over the room, leaving them both bare and even more desperate than ever.

Jeonghan sat down on the bed, pulling Luna upward onto his lap, and straddling him. His hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts, squeezing them gently.

Luna arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. He could feel her nipples hardening, pressing against his palms, begging for his mouth.

Jeonghan gripped her tighter against him, her legs wrapping around his waist, his hands gripping her ass. He could feel her heat against his stomach, her wetness coating him. He groaned, his head dipping down to capture her nipple in his mouth.

He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, making Luna squirm in his arms. She arched her back, pushing herself further into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, Han," she panted, her hips grinding against him. "I need you inside me.

Jeonghan didn't need any more encouragement. He released her nipple with a pop, his hands shifting to position himself at her entrance. He looked into her eyes, seeing the same hunger reflected back at him. Then, with one swift thrust, he pushed inside her.

"Fuck, Jiyeon," he breathed, his voice ragged. "You feel incredible."

Luna could only whimper in response, her body pulsing around him. She could feel every inch of him, filling her completely. She shifted her hips, trying to take him even deeper.

"Shhh, baby... no need to rush. We have all night. Let me take care of you." Jeonghan cooed softly as he slowed her down, his hands steady on her waist, his voice purring as if soothing her into submission.

“Han…” Luna’s voice was a soft whimper as she buried her face in his neck, feeling exposed and vulnerable, surrendering herself completely to him.

Jeonghan groaned, his control snapping.

He began to move faster, his hips thrusting forward in a steady rhythm. Luna matched his pace, her body rocking against his, their skin slapping together in a filthy symphony. The sound of their fucking filled the room, punctuated by their labored breaths and moans.

"Fuck, Hannie…. feels so good…" Luna gasped, her head thrown back. “Please… fast– fuck,”

"You don't need to say anything, angel. I already know. Just let me hear those pretty little sounds you make for me." Jeonghan spoke softly against her ear, his voice thick with teasing affection as he kissed her neck, enjoying how she melted into his touch.

Jeonghan’s grip on her ass tightened. He slammed into her, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside her, making her cry out.

"Yes! Just like that, Han!" she panted, her fingers digging into his back, her legs wrapping tighter around his waist, urging him on.

“Yeah? Just like this, baby?” Jeonghan was lost in the sensation of her, the way she gripped him, the way her body moved in sync with his. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, his arms burning from the effort, but he didn't care.

He wanted more. He wanted all of her.

"You're driving me crazy, Hannie..." Luna breathed out with a whimper, her fingers clutching at his shoulders as she squirmed on top of him, feeling like she was losing control.

Jeonghan had the audacity to chuckle as shifted his angle, making sure to hit her clit with each thrust.

Luna purred as she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She could feel his heart beating against her chest. She shifted slightly, grinding against him, matching his thrusts making him groan.

"Fuck, Jiyeon," he muttered, his grip on her tightening. "Stop that or I'll cum."

Luna just giggled, her lips tracing the line of his jaw. "You promise?" she whispered, her breath hot against his ear.

“Brat,” Jeonghan growled, his cock slipping out of her, making her whimper at the loss. But before she could protest, he grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her hands and knees. Luna gasped, her ass high in the air, her face pressed into the mattress.

"Is this what you want, pretty angel?" Jeonghan asked, his voice a low rumble behind her.

Luna could feel his breath on her ass, his fingers digging into her hips.

"Yes," she panted, her face still pressed into the mattress before she lifted her head up to turn back and look at him, her doe eyes glistening in pleasure.

"I just want to make you happy... don’t you want that?" Luna’s voice was quiet and trembling, filled with vulnerability as she looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, needing his approval.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, his fingers caressing the soft flesh of her ass slow and steady. "Yeah? You want to make me happy, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice a lazy drawl. "Give me anything I want?”

“Give you anything you want. Be whatever you want.” Luna arched her back downwards like a cat stretching.

Jeonghan threw his head back, groaning, his hands spreading her ass cheeks apart, giving him a clear view of her glistening pussy. Luna shivered at the exposure, her body aching with anticipation.

He chuckled a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. “Anything?”

“You're always teasing me, but you know I'll do anything for you, Han…” Luna released a soft, almost resigned whimper as she melted into his touch, accepting her place with a shy smile, letting herself be vulnerable for him.

"Fuck," Jeonghan muttered, his thumb tracing the seam of her pussy, gathering her wetness. "You're so fucking wet.”

“Look at you, dripping for me," He said, his voice laced with desire as he rubbed her wetness, making Luna gasp.

"Aww, baby... you're shaking. Don't worry, I've got you. I always have you. I’ll take care of you like I promised." Jeonghan cooed in a soft, condescending way as he held her leaned down on top of her, his arm wrapped around her neck, holding her close, his other hand soothingly stroking her back while his voice dipped into a protective, possessive tone.

Luna moaned, her face now pressed into the mattress, her hands fisting the sheets beneath her as Jeonghan played with her clit. "Yes please… please take care of me,” she hissed, her body arching against his touch.

Jeonghan smirked, his thumb circling her clit faster, making her gasp. "Like this, Nana-ya?" he asked, his voice soft almost as if he was singing a song to her. "You want me to fuck you like this?”

"Yes," she panted, her body writhing against his touch. "I want you to fuck me like this, oppa.” Luna's voice was a sultry purr, her body still quivering from his touch.

Jeonghan's smirk widened, his thumb was replaced by two fingers now pumping in and out of her hole, making her gasp. "You're a dirty girl, Nana-ya," he said in a tone as if he was scolding her yet his voice also filled with approval. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Luna could only whimper in response, her body aching with need. She could feel Jeonghan's hard cock pressed against her thigh, hot and heavy. She wanted it back inside her, she wanted to feel him stretching her, filling her completely.

"Please, Han," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan growled, his fingers slipping out of her, making her whimper at the loss as he in turn placed his fingers in his mouth. "You taste even sweeter than I thought. Just like I imagined... but better."

But before Luna could impatiently whine once more, Jeonghan grabbed his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Luna could feel the thick head pressing against her, making her squirm with anticipation.

"Baby," Jeonghan muttered, "You're so fucking tight.” His fingers dug into her hips as he slowly pushed himself deeper into her, inch by inch. Luna moaned, her body stretching to accommodate his size, her nails digging into the sheets beneath her.

"Fuck, Han. You're so big," she gasped, her body trembling as he filled her completely in this position. Jeonghan chuckled, his hips starting to move, sliding his cock in and out of her in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Too much for you, baby?" he taunted, his voice laced with desire. "You can take it for me, Jiyeonie. You can take all of me."

Luna moaned, her body adjusting to his size once again as she clenched around him. "Yes, I can," she hissed, pushing back against him, taking him even deeper. “For you.”

Jeonghan groaned, his hips starting to move faster, his cock sliding in and out of her in a steady rhythm. "Fuck, Luna," he growled, his fingers digging into her hips. "You feel so fucking good.”

“Hannie, just like that," Luna panted, her hips moving in sync with his thrusts, taking cock deeper into her. Jeonghan could feel her walls clenching around him, her pleasure building with each thrust.

“Like a goddamn vice, squeezing me," Jeonghan groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he pounded on her.

“Oppa… Han– fuck,” Luna moaned, her body trembling as he filled her, stretching her, hitting places she didn't know existed. “Jeonghan.”

"Such a good girl for me... that's it. Let me hear you say my name." Jeonghan murmured softly as he watched her, his tone gentle but commanding, savoring the control he had over her at that moment.

"Hannie… fuck," she gasped, her fingers clawing at the bedsheets, her back arching as he started to pick up the pace. “It's too much." Luna gasped, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts as Jeonghan's cock slid in and out of her in a steady, punishing rhythm. Each thrust hit just the right spot, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her veins, making her toes curl and her eyes roll back.

"Too much what, Nana-ya?" Jeonghan gritted out, his fingers digging into her hips, pulling her back onto him with each thrust. "Too much of my cock? Too much pleasure?"

Luna moaned, her head dropping down, her hair hiding her face. "All of it. It's all too much. It's overwhelming," She panted, her body quivering as Jeonghan's cock slammed into her, again and again, each thrust driving her closer to the edge.

He growled, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her neck to his lips and teeth. "Overwhelming in a good way, right, angel?" he murmured, his voice a low, sultry drawl against her skin. "You like it when I fuck you like this, don't you? Hm? You're made for me, Bae Jiyeon.”

Luna could only moan and tremble. “Oppa…”

“Does it feel good, pretty?" Jeonghan's question was laced with intent and purpose, and Luna gasped at the sound of it in the dim room. His cock was buried deep inside her, and it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

It felt powerful, raw, and undeniably intimate.

"Yes...yes, Han," she breathed, her hands gripping the bedsheets as her hips butted against his in rhythm with his thrusts. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Jeonghan paused for a second before placing kisses on her back and spinning her around to lay on her back, catching Luna off guard.

“You’re so pretty,” Jeonghan purred as he placed his arms at each side of her head, laying in between his arms before he started thrusting harder in her.

Every time he thrust into her, she felt a wave of ecstasy surge through her body, building higher and higher with each stroke.

"Baby— Luna, I want to feel you cum," Jeonghan groaned, his rhythm intensifying as he reached for her climax alongside her.

Luna could only whimper in response as waves of bliss crashed over her. Her fingers curled into fists as her body tensed, every muscle tightening, every nerve amplifying the pulsating sensation ripping through her.

"Oh God, Hannie," she moaned, her voice raw and desperate, "I'm there...oh my— fuck, I'm close!" Her body shook and arched, her head thrown back as she came, her cries muffled by the flesh of Jeonghan’s neck as she hid her face.

"Don't look away... keep your eyes on me, Jiyeonie. I want to see every reaction." Jeonghan said in a soft yet commanding voice as his fingers traced the skin on the back of her neck, guiding Luna’s face out of his neck, loving the vulnerability in her gaze as he held her captive with his words.

"Let me see those pretty eyes... There we go. There’s my girl." He purred softly as he tilted her chin up, guiding her to meet his gaze, his tone filled with a tender yet teasing affection that made her heart race as he continued pounding into her.

“I’m close, Han,” Luna moaned as she tightened her grasp on him.

“Let go, baby. Come on, you can do it,” Jeonghan's thrusts became harder and faster, his body slapping against Luna’s. She could feel her breasts bouncing with every movement, and her nipples hardened as she arched her back, moaning in pleasure.

Jeonghan was reaching the edge as well, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his muscles tensing. Luna knew he was on the brink, and she wanted to feel him explode inside her.

Luna dug her nails into his back, urging him on. "Hannie oppa, cum in me please,” she begged, her hips bucking up to meet his. “I’m close.”

“I’ll cum in you, pretty angel. Anything you want.” Jeonghan gave a final, powerful thrust and Luna felt him erupt inside of her, his seed filling him up as she released as well with a shudder. Her body trembled with the intensity of the orgasm.

Jeonghan groaned in satisfaction, his seed pulsing from his cock, spilling deep inside her as she milked him, her walls clamping down on him, working against his thrusting hips. He collapsed onto Luna, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. Luna lay on her back, her heart pounding in her chest, her breaths coming in sporadic gasps.

Jeonghan kissed Luna’s neck, his lips moist and soft against her skin. "Fuck, Bae Jiyeon, you make me feel crazy," he murmured, his breath hot on her ear.

Jeonghan's weight on top of her felt heavy and comforting, and she curled her fingers into the fabric beneath her. She looked up at him, her eyes hazy with lust and pleasure. "You…" she gasped trailing off, her voice still ragged with biss.

"You are magnificent, Jiyeon-ah," Jeonghan replied, his voice soft but with an underlying intensity that made her shiver.

He shifted off her, lying on his side next to her. He brushed a loose curl away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "See? I told you... you’re made for me.” He whispered with a possessive edge as he looked into her eyes, his fingers gently tracing her jawline, the weight of his claim lingering in the air.

Luna let out a soft laugh, her hand traveling down his chest and settling on his hip as she hid her face in his chest, a blushing mess.

“Stop hiding from me, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan placed a kiss on top of her head as his warm fingers drew circles on her hip. “Why are you shy all of a sudden? Hm?”

“Stop,” Luna playful whined, her pout evident in her tone, though the affection lacing her words betrayed how much she loved the attention he gave her.

"You like it when I talk to you like this, don't you? It's okay, you don't have to hide it. I can tell." Jeonghan was practically purring at her, his voice dripping with teasing condescension, savoring the way she responded to his baby talk and teasing words.

“You’re so fucking annoying, Yoon Jeonghan,” Luna huffed as she removed her face off his chest to playfully glare at him only to be met by Jeonghan’s smug face already looking down at her.

A slow, lazy smile spread across Jeonghan’s lips, and he let out a low hum, clearly amused by her response. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “How do you feel, pretty girl?”

Luna could feel her pulse quicken at the nearness of him, but she wasn’t about to let him win this easily. “I’m fine. I feel fine,” she said coolly, shrugging her shoulders like this was just another casual conversation.

Jeonghan chuckled, a low sound that reverberated through his chest. “You’re fine?” he repeated, his tone teasing, almost mocking. “I just rocked your fucking world and made you mine, and all you’ve got is ‘I’m fine’?”

Luna turned to face him fully, her eyes narrowing just slightly as she smirked. “What else do you want me to say? Write a love letter?” she quipped back, not missing a beat.

Jeonghan laughed softly, his fingers trailing down her arm in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “You don’t have to say anything, Jiyeonie,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, his teasing tone gone, replaced by something far more direct. “You already did.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at that, a silent challenge in her eyes. “Oh? And what exactly did I say?”

Jeonghan’s smirk widened, and without breaking eye contact, he leaned in close— too close, his breath warm against her lips. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

The words hung in the air between them, simple but heavy. Luna didn’t have a quick comeback this time. Her heart skipped a beat, not because of the weight of the situation, but because he said it so nonchalantly like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Jeonghan pulled back just slightly, watching her reaction with that same unreadable expression. “So… you tell me. What does that mean?”

Luna stared at him, feeling the weight of his words sink in. She could feel her defenses crumbling, but she wasn’t ready to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “Maybe I just didn’t want to leave before breakfast tomorrow morning,” she shot back, keeping her voice light, and playful.

Jeonghan laughed again, shaking his head as he rested his forehead against hers. “Maybe. Or maybe… you’re not quite done with me yet.”

Luna rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”

Jeonghan grinned, pulling her closer. “I have an answer for you, yeah.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips before pulling back with that same infuriating smile. “Get used to it.”

The words were casual, almost tossed out as an afterthought. But they carried weight— an unspoken promise. And as Luna lay there, wrapped in his arms, she couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t mind getting used to it after all.

In the quiet aftermath, as the weight of everything settled between them, it was clear that this wasn’t just another fleeting moment or a secret whispered in the dark.

And just like that, Luna who started as his English Love Affair had quickly turned into something far less foreign— and far more impossible to forget.

There was no turning back— this was no longer a story of if only, but of everything that came after.

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