#k dramas are so strange
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I’m watching my very first K-drama.
And because I’m lost and every turn has me getting really confused, I’ve chosen to log these reactions.
Help.
Spoilers for the Ghost Doctor ahead:
Why do these effects remind of heartstopper in that intro
ARE THOSE FAKE GLASSES
Aw it’s like they’re having little seizures on the patients while giving “CPR”
So everyone is just offloading patients onto this guy???
THE SENIOR SURGEON HAVING A TANTRUM??????? Slapping glasssss???!?!?
What is this????
??????? What
Why is his eye twitching like that
I’m confused on why that child is such a big deal to that group? Just because he walked up to them and spouted facts???
The dings?
Is he mad because the other dude is cocky and friendly? And give gifts???
If I ever saw my professor that scrambled I’d shut up because I’m scared of making them want to hurt me. I wouldn’t just SMILE with a *ding*
OH ARE THEY ABOUT TO THROW HANDS????
OOOOOOP
Awwwwwwww
My dude you’re supposed to TRY. UGH.
More fake glasses?
The peace sign was unneeded
lol is he gonna faint?
So. He’s a surgical intern. That can’t do surgery???
Ooooooooooooof
Okay. So. Incorrect in some ways. DOCTORS CAN save patients with their warmheartedness and people skills. It doesn’t make up if they don’t have actual skills but I’m saying they can make the situation much better. Just saying. You do need skills but you can save a patient with your heart in certain conditions.
Is that a rat! A rodent?????
He’s singing????? What is this?????????
Why are you so smug
Awww he’s really taking to himself. And his. Rodent.
Of course he drives a jeep. A blue one.
Why are the women fawning.
Is the escalator gonna kill him?
And I thought elevators were where the drama was at. Apparently it’s escalators.
An ex?
Ouch an unwelcome encounter. That’s gotta hurt.
Dude. Just listen to do the work in the ER
Oh my god. It’s just a little blood.
Oh she’s there too?
A hospital in Seattle you say? It wouldn’t be Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital?
Oooooof
Fairy dust *shimmer*
More fairy dust.
Fairy dust tornado!
He’s gotta find his soulmate
Stop backseat driving jeez
Frantic trench coat walking
Does the fairy dust contaminate sterile environments?
Dude do you wanna live or die?
Possess him
Oooooooooo
Fairy dust possession
Save yourself you dummy
Crack those wrists
What’s attitude change
So what’s happened to other dudes soul
That’s one bloody heart
lol the ending montage of pictures ft. Fairy dust.
#k drama#ghost doctor#k dramas are so strange#Netflix thinks I’m crazy in love with all foreign shows#Kim boem
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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/046b7d58a3e6d52d642fca1a93f7d26f/771fbdad9cc15a61-fd/s540x810/4cf7dc28fd3e04c8440b5a603c5ed1f18a33e9ea.jpg)
“You’ve never what?”
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh.
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?”
Shit.
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful.
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click!
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah.
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ���nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl.
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER
…
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso kamo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#choso#tonywrites#choso kamo
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SÍ... ESTAMOS SALIENDO | Oscar Piastri
Oscar Piastri x Pérez!Reader
SUMMARY: Scared of everyone to find out, Y/N Pérez and Oscar Piastri decide to hide their relationship from everyone until Checo starts wondering how Piastri learnt to speak Spanish so good... and specially why he has a Mexican accent ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Maybe one were she is checos daughter and they hide their relationship from him. And also maybe she teaches oscar some Spanish. At the end they end up telling checo about their relationship
WORD COUNT: 2399
WARNINGS: Use of Spanish. Important to say that even Spanish is my mother tongue, I may have some mistakes because it is Mexican Spanish and I don't know much about it, so I had to do some research. Otherwise, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, unprotected sex, drugs and alcohol
TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]
VEE'S NOTES: Not writing related but I’m obsessed with a K-Drama I started watching yesterday and I just wanna write Come What May series since the main characters’ personalities are the same as Seb and Y/N (Di in case you read the OC Version) there lmao. Anyways, missed a lot writing about Oscar (I definitely will be writing about him more as he's my second fave on the current grid) and this one got me so happy with how it turned out! Hope you like it as well, and remember that I'd love to see your comments <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR
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© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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“What if you taught me some Spanish?”
“Sorry, what did you just say?”
“That's it, Y/N. Teach me some Spanish.”
You, completely absorbed in looking at the pictures you had taken during the date you had with your boyfriend that same day, lifted your gaze from your phone and raised an eyebrow, fully taken aback by Oscar's proposal.
“Spanish? You? You already speak English! English is the only language that matters to you all…”
Oscar shrugged, nervously playing with the steering wheel. At that moment, he reconsidered what he had said, unsure now, and realized that maybe it had been a somewhat strange proposal on his part.
“I just want to understand you when you talk to your dad or your family. I know no one knows we’re together yet, but sometimes when you do video calls with them, I feel a bit lost. I also feel like sometimes you talk about me, and I’d like to know if I should worry,” he confessed, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
“And why do you assume we talk about you, huh?”
“Well, because you always look at me out of the corner of your eye when you do.”
You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked with that unnecessary concern.
“Why do you have to be so chismoso?” You said, making Oscar give you a little tap on the shoulder. That just made you laugh more. “Alright, alright, fine! But I warn you in advance: if you laugh at me speaking Spanish or don’t take me seriously, I’ll break up with you.”
What started as a completely random proposal, with little prospect of a future or sense at first, eventually became one of your favorite routines. You took advantage of every moment together to practice, always hiding it from Checo or any member of the Pérez family when you were in the paddock. Moreover, whenever you were in your respective countries, you would watch Mexican movies and TV shows, and also some in their original version with English subtitles. You even started sending each other the occasional message in Spanish, thanks to the Australian’s initiative.
Oscar seemed to have, in your eyes, a natural talent for languages. Not only did he manage to learn greetings and basic words in less than a week, but after a month, he was already making the effort to use your Mexican accent and even incorporating words that seemed exclusive to your family’s vocabulary.
And that was exactly what, a few months later, turned into a real nightmare for the secrecy with which you kept your relationship.
While no one knew you were together as a couple, Oscar and you pretended to be just friends when you were in public. That’s why it was completely normal for Checo Pérez to see his daughter with the Australian, having coffee and chatting animatedly after a press conference.
“¡Buenos días, Checo!” Oscar said in almost perfect Spanish. “¿Cómo va, papá?”
You, hearing that last word, spat out the little coffee you had left in your mouth and opened your eyes, completely surprised. Checo, however, made a face and a frown, questioning his daughter’s friend.
“What did you say?” You asked, though you knew perfectly well that what your boyfriend had just said was something you hadn’t taught him, and he’d probably heard it from you.
“Well… ¿Cómo va, papá?” the guy repeated innocently. “Did I say it right?”
“Papá?” repeated the Red Bull driver, even more shocked. “Do you even know what that means, kid?”
“It’s an expression, right? Isn’t it like saying buddy?”
Checo stared at him for a few seconds that felt like an eternity to Oscar. Then, he turned his gaze to you, who was pretending to fiddle with your phone to avoid having to face an awkward conversation about why your secret boyfriend had just said that.
“¿Te importaría decirme por qué Oscar habla como tú?” Pérez asked quickly in Spanish, clearly aiming for Oscar not to understand.
“He doesn’t talk like me!” You quickly replied in English. “Oscar has been practicing Spanish, and well… he wants to fit in better so he’s trying. Duolingo isn’t the best app for learning, so he’s been watching YouTube videos... Right, Osc?”
The guy nodded, but that didn’t convince Checo. Still, he didn’t say anything else and, instead, coldly said goodbye to you both.
As soon as he was far enough away not to hear you, you turned to Oscar and started shaking him:
“Of all the things you could say, you call him papá?!”
“I didn’t do it on purpose, babe!” He rushed to reply, feeling bad for you. “I’ve heard it so many times that, well… I just said it without thinking. I honestly didn’t think it was anything bad.”
You huffed, knowing that it wasn’t Oscar’s fault or his curiosity and interest in learning your mother tongue, but yours for not setting boundaries or explaining the meaning of each word, as well as the context in which it should be used or who it was addressed to.
From that moment on, your father started paying more attention. He was an expert in discretion, but you knew him well enough to realize that, since the incident with Oscar, he had become much more alert and interested in you both, especially looking for clear signs that would confirm his suspicions that his daughter was dating one of the newest additions to the grid.
Unfortunately for you and Oscar, the Mexican didn’t need to investigate much, and he only did so for a month to confirm his theories.
During one of the briefings with all the drivers, Checo heard Oscar mumbling an “Órale, wey” followed by some insults in Spanish that you had made up when it had gotten pretty late and everyone was eager to return to their hotel. Also, instead of saying “sorry,” he let out a “¿mande?” which wouldn’t have been strange if he hadn’t continued speaking in English, as if nothing had happened.
You and Oscar seemed unaware of all your slip-ups; on the contrary, feeling like you weren’t arousing anyone’s suspicion, you lowered your guard. Displays of affection in public, though still cautious, became more frequent, especially when Checo wasn’t near you. Or at least, that’s what you thought.
The back of the McLaren garage, just a few meters away from Red Bull’s, as expected, wasn’t the most suitable place.
“We should go somewhere else,” you said softly while nervously fiddling with the collar of your boyfriend's shirt, who had his arm around your waist.
“Why? This place is perfect,” Oscar replied, unconcerned.
“Yeah, sure, perfect for my dad to catch us,” you muttered. “If he already suspects and looks like that doll from the red light, green light game on Squid Game, analyzing us so much to jump on us as soon as he catches us… imagine if he finds us. He’ll kill us, I swear.”
“Come on, Y/N, just try to relax. We’ve got it all under control. Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about, mi amor.”
You blushed at the compliment he had given you in Spanish, and couldn’t help but plant a chaste kiss on his lips, even though everything inside you felt chaotic.
“If you’re trying to convince me that everything’s fine by speaking to me in Spanish, just know that you’re doing it perfectly,” you declared. “But don’t forget, that doesn’t mean I don’t feel a tremendous anxiety and keep thinking that we’re literally one step away from getting caught. Do you know what he could do if he finds out that you and I… that?” You asked hesitantly.
“Is he going to give us a lecture on how we have to stay professional whenever we’re in public? Or is he going to tell me he’ll kill me if I even think about getting you pregnant?”
“He’ll probably make you come home to have lunch with my family and only speak Spanish,” you tried not to laugh but couldn’t help yourself. “And trust me, you don’t want to be in that position because you’ll have all my aunts, and there are quite a few of them, right next to you, asking you some very uncomfortable questions.”
“Then we’ll have to tell him as soon as possible so he can prepare. How about I tell him that I’m absolutely and completely in love with his daughter?”
You shot him a glare, panic flooding your insides at the thought of that happening.
“No, don’t you dare do that, Osc, and especially not here. You have no idea how my dad would react if…”
“Why not?” He interrupted. Then, he stopped, and after a few seconds that felt like an eternity to you, he seemed to finally find the courage to speak: “I could tell him something like… ¡Señor Pérez, estoy saliendo con su hija porque además de ser la mejor mujer de este mundo, me hace la persona más feliz del mundo!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, filled with emotion inside at Oscar’s sweet yet innocent declaration of love aloud.
However, a cough behind you made you snap back to reality.
“Can I know what you’re doing with my daughter, Piastri?”
You both slowly turned around. There, standing before you, was Checo, arms crossed, with a very unfriendly look on his face. You swore that if Oscar walked out of there alive and without a reprimand from your overprotective father, he could do whatever he wanted for the rest of the year.
“Well…” Oscar began, his confidence suddenly disappearing.
“Esto no es lo que parece, te lo juro,” you said in Spanish, trying to calm your father, even though you knew your attempts would be in vain.
“Oh, really?” Checo asked, raising an eyebrow, knowing you were both lying. “Then, what explanation do you have for this kid shouting to the four winds in almost perfect Spanish that he’s in love with you? At least that’s what I understood, if my Spanish doesn’t fail me.”
You were about to reply, but instead, Oscar gently took you by the wrist and stepped forward, surprisingly confident.
“Checo, I’m not playing around. Okay, I was joking about that, but not about what it means… like…” Piastri explained slowly, nerves eating at him as he couldn’t bring himself to look Checo in the face. “Your daughter matters to me, well, like… you know, like a boyfriend cares for his girlfriend.”
Checo tried not to laugh at the declaration of love from the man who had just confirmed he was his son-in-law and did his best to maintain the protective fatherly composure, thinking no guy would ever be good enough for his daughter.
“So you care about my daughter… You, one of my coworkers, a twenty-three-year-old kid, care about my eldest daughter enough to believe you can have a relationship with her…”
“It’s not that I believe it, it’s that I know I do.”
Not only you and Checo were surprised by the boy’s words, but Oscar himself too. He regretted it immediately, but before he could apologize to Checo, the man stepped forward, raising a hand and staring at him:
“So… are you two dating or not?”
“Yes, for almost six months now,” you answered, feeling a knot in your stomach, but much less pressure now that your father knew the truth.
Checo sighed, running a hand over his face as he tried to process the news his daughter, his little girl, had just told him. The girl he knew ever since she was born and now he had to imagine her spending, if not the rest of her life, at least part of it, with another man.
“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Checo asked, his voice tinged with disappointment but also some understanding. “Don’t you trust me?”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I knew you would react badly,” you answered, frustrated. “I trust you, and I know you want to protect me from any guy who could make me feel bad, but you have to understand that I’m twenty years old, and whether you like it or not, I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Checo looked at you and then turned his gaze to Oscar, who had his head down. Besides his nerves being pretty evident, so was his willingness to face any kind of dispute or reprimand from him just to stay with you.
That made Checo feel a bit bad, though it also gave him some relief seeing that the Australian was truly concerned and, why not say it, in love, willing to do anything for his little Y/N.
Finally, he let out a small sigh, trying to calm himself. He repeated your words over and over in his mind before saying anything else because if you had never disappointed him in your life, then he didn’t want to disappoint you just because you were in love.
I’m not a little girl anymore.
“Checo…” Piastri spoke, but Checo raised a finger, silencing him instantly.
“I’m only going to say this once: you better not hurt my daughter, or I’ll hurt you when I kick you off the track or crash into you accidentally. Is that clear?”
Oscar swallowed hard, feeling that Checo wasn’t joking.
“Understood…”
“And as for you,” Checo now spoke to you, completely stunned, “don’t think this is over. Your mother, you, and I will have a conversation about this and several other topics when we get home.”
Unprotected wild sex, alcohol, and drugs, for sure, you thought, forcing a smile to try to hide your worry.
“Now go on and keep loving each other, but be careful where and how you do it. I don’t want to be a grandfather just yet.”
With those words, Checo left, leaving you both.
“Well… now he knows. Finally,” Oscar said, letting out a sigh of relief.
“I told you he was intense. Do you believe me now?”
“Of course, mi amor,” the Australian replied, taking your hand and heading to your room in the McLaren motorhome, so, as Checo had said, you wouldn’t become grandparents just yet. “Your dad scared me, but I’m not going to lie to you, he gave me enough motivation to beat him in every race from now on.”
#formula 1#f1#oscar piastri#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1 smut#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastrix y/n#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri fic#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri x female reader#oscar piastri x you#op81 x reader#piastri
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BENEFITS || SEONGHWA & SAN
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In which you accidentally walk in on Seonghwa riding San's big cock
Genre: Smut
Pairing: Seonghwa x San x Fem reader
Word Count: 2.5K
Tags/Warnings: Threesome, Idol!San, Idol!Seonghwa, staff!Y/N, switch!San, sub!Seonghwa, dom!y/n, m x m, anal sex, voyeurism, masturbation, handjob, oral sex, degrading, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, namecalling, bigdick!San, fingersucking, 69-position, use of toys, orgasm denial, facial, double penetration, breeding kink
Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar
ENJOY!
It was not unusual that you stayed over at your friends' dorms. After all you have known them ever since the guys became a group. You have worked with the boys from the start and watched them grow throughout the careers, and during those years your bond with them grew as well, becoming the closest friends with them.
You got off work about an hour ago and after you went home to freshen up and change clothes you made your way to one of the boys' dorms. You hadn't been at Seonghwa, San and Mingi's dorm in a while so you decided to surprise them with some snacks and a movie night. You ran into Mingi in one of the hallways and greeted him with a hug. ''Where are you off to, Min?'' you asked him. ''Oh, my family is in town so I'm gonna go grab some dinner and a movie! But San and Seonghwa are home, they'll be thrilled to spend a night with you I'm sure!'' Mingi was so giddy it made you laugh out loud.
''Well have fun, you, I'll see you soon!''
You waved Mingi 'goodbye' and you made your way to their dorm. You pressed their code on the doorlock and entered, taking off your shoes and coat and put the bag of snacks on the counter in the kitchen. You frowned at the weird noises you heard from one of the guys' rooms. You entered San's first, but it was empty and surprisingly tidy. You quietly closed the door before walking over to Seonghwa's room.
The strange noises got louder and through the closed door you couldn't exactly figure out what it was. Knowing Seonghwa he would either be watching some K-drama or playing some new game on his Switch, you thought to yourself. But nothing could have ever prepared you for what you saw when you opened the door.
Seonghwa was sat on San's lap, both guys naked from the waist down. San's hands roamed Seonghwa's body as he bounced in San's lap, letting out a loud moan. You gasped loudly and your eyes widened, your body freezing in shock.
Both men turned their heads towards you instantly, shocked they've been caught fucking. ''H-Holy shit,'' you stammered, gripping onto the doorframe so you wouldn't pass out from shock. Your hands and legs were shaking as you saw Seonghwa's hard, leaking cock peak from under his sweater and you saw it twitch. And twitch again.
''Y/N...,'' San started, ''we... did not expect you.'' You nodded. ''Clearly.'' ''I'm sorry we- Hyung will you stop clenching around my cock?'' San sighed. ''I c-can't help it I might just come,'' Seonghwa whined. You swallowed thickly. ''I... I'll let you finish,'' you said quickly, ready to exit the room before Seonghwa shouted, ''No!''
''N-No, stay...,'' he panted. San looked confused for a second, but soon enough he agreed. ''Yeah... Why don't you stay actually?'' San suggested, ''Don't you see how much little Hwa gets off on this? Don't you think it's fun to play with him?'' San teased. You nodded slowly and before you could change your mind you closed the door behind you and leaned against it.
''Well, are you, Hwa?'' you asked. Seonghwa looked at you with big, round, pleading eyes. ''W-What?'' ''Are you getting off on getting caught by me? Doing something so... so dirty? Is that gonna make you come sitting on San's dick?'' you spoke.
This wasn't like you, you weren't this kinky, this good of a dirty talker. But it came naturally to you. The way your dear friend Seonghwa looked like such a good cockslut, so disheveled. ''Are you gonna answer her?'' San grunted as he bucked his hips up, fucking into a whining Seonghwa. ''Y-Yes I'm gonna come, gonna come,'' he babbled.
You walked closer, sitting down on his desk. Seonghwa looked deeply into your eyes, as if he was begging for something. You took his leaking cock in your hand and you barely started jerking him off before he came over your fingers with a loud cry. San slowed down his movements and held him tight to his body with his hands on the elder's hips.
The feeling of Seonghwa's hot, fresh cum on your fingers made your pussy clench around nothing, and you could feel yourself get wetter. You held your fingers in front of his plump, pink lips and said, ''Suck.'' Seonghwa was slightly startled but opened his mouth and sucked your fingers clean.
''That's a good boy, hm? Being such a good boy right now,'' San said as he slowly carressed his back to calm him down. Seonghwa moaned around your fingers and nodded eagerly. He sucked at your fingers like it was a big, juicy cock, and he was so eager you swore you couldn't take it any longer.
You pulled your fingers away from him and took off your sweater, your lacy red bra catching their eyes. ''I'm gonna need one of you to fuck me, like right now.'' Seonghwa eagerly got up from San's lap, San following after. You took off your pants too, laying down on Seonghwa's neat bed.
''Your room is so tiny, gosh, there's barely enough room to get fucked in here,'' you muttered as Seonghwa and San - now fully naked - also got on the bed with you. San laughed, ''I like a challenge, don't you?'' ''Zip it, smart ass,'' you said, grabbing his jaw. San was startled at the sudden action and instantly shut his mouth.
Right in this moment it occured to you that you could be in charge if these two if you wanted to. They looked so drunk on their lust you were sure they'd do whatever you'd ask them to do. ''Eat me out,'' you ordered them. They wasted no time in getting your bra and panties off, ripping them slightly in the proces.
Kisses were pressed onto your body left and right, literally, and they traced your lips, your jaw, your neck towards your tits, and down towards your wet awaiting cunt. You spread your legs as wide as you could and both guys settled between them.
The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The way San and Seonghwa looked up at you made your brain foggy. First you felt San's velvet tongue on your inner thigh, licking a stripe up to your pussy. He circled the tip of his tongue around your clit, earning a whine from you. Seonghwa dipped his face slightly lower so he could prod his long tongue at your entrance. You felt him slip in and out repeatedly while San focussed on your sensitive clit.
Sure, you have fantasized about the members before but actually acting on it? No, you had never planned on that. Although a threesome with San and Seonghwa must be the best case scenario here. You felt so powerful and pleased, having two of the most handsome men on earth feasting on your wetness. You moaned louder and ran your hands through their hair.
San's hand fondled your breast as well, softly playing with your sensitive nipple. Your breathing quickened and your hips bucked up into their faces as the pleasure began to take over your body, completely overruling you. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out as you came. They gently rode out your orgasm and Seonghwa slightly bit your thigh, which made you come back to earth.
''Was that pleasing enough, Y/N?'' San grinned, peppering kisses up your stomach and chest. ''Hmm, we're not done here, you know,'' you smirked. ''What do you want, Y/N?''
''Hm... I gotta say I did enjoy watching the two of you... San lay down,'' you said, standing up to make place for him. San laid down and looked at you nervously. ''Seonghwa.''
Seonghwa looked at you once more, those big brown eyes still pleading as hard as ever. ''You... Hmm... You sit on his face, darling,'' you said. Seonghwa looked at you, kind of shocked. ''Sit on his wh-'' ''Now.'' you said in a stern voice. Seonghwa nodded and looked at San, who couldn't help but play with his cock even at the thought.
The eldest moved towards San and hovered above his face. San grabbed Seonghwa's ass in his hands and pulled him down, licking a stripe up his hole. Seonghwa whimpered and leaned down, getting face to face with San's large cock. Without any hesitation he took his member into his mouth and sucked it skillfully. You watched Seonghwa's mouth bob up and down as San ate him out. The sounds were so sinful you could have never imagined it.
You looked around the room and noticed a dark box halfway shoved under his bed. It was slightly open and you could see something bright pink. Knowing Seonghwa now this could only mean one thing. You pulled the box from under the bed and opened it, confirming your suspicions. The box was filled with toys. A devlish smirk played on your lips as you looked through the various options.
Seonghwa released San's cock from his mouth with a delicious pop. ''W-What are you doing, Y/N? T-That's a secre-'' ''If it's secret you need to put it away correctly. And what am I gonna do with it? I'm about to use some of these on our precious Sanie.''
That made San pull away from Seonghwa's puckering hole. ''Wh-What are you going to do to me?'' You grinned and sat in front of him on the bed. You pulled out a smaller, slimmer dildo from Seonghwa's collection. ''What a pretty little thing... Do you use these a lot baby?'' ''I-I uhm...''
''I bet you open yourself up with this before fucking yourself on San's huge cock at night, huh?'' ''N-No we've never-'' ''Shut your mouth and put it to good use,'' you ordered, silencing Seonghwa. He went back to sucking San off, but San could no longer concentrate at anything because he was nervous for what was coming.
You parted San's legs and drizzled a little bit of strawberry flavoured lube on it. You carefully slid it into San, who cried out at the stretch. You smirked and turned the vibration up. ''Is this your first time Sanie?'' ''Y-Yes, oh God, please, please be gentle,'' he pleaded, nails digging into Seonghwa's skin.
''Hm, I'll be nice, Sanie, because you are a good boy for me aren't you? Maybe you overpower Seonghwa but you're just a needy little boy for me, isn't that right?'' ''Y-Yes, that's right,'' San obeyed, whimpering as you pushed the vibrator deeper inside him - but not deep enough for him to be satisfied.
But with the way Seonghwa hungrily sucked his fat cock he started to get closer and closer to climaxing. Before he could do so you pulled the toy out and threw it to the side. ''Off, Hwa,'' you ordered him, and quickly he obeyed. San sulked when his orgasm was denied, but pulled himself together when he saw the stern look on your face.
You leaned in closer and took San's girthy cock in your hand. You pumped it up and down and soon enough San felt his orgasm come closer and closer again. ''That's it Sanie, you can come now, and you're gonna come all over Seonghwa's pretty face hm?''
''Yes, please, please come on my face, fuck,'' Seonghwa cursed, positioning himself right in front of San's crotch. You tapped San's cock on Seonghwa's lips a few times, earning a slight whimper from the eldest. Seonghwa opened his mouth wide, tongue open and that was all San needed to burst. He came in thick ropes of white, hot cum, streaking Seonghwa's lips, tongue, nose and cheek.
''My good boys... well done,'' you smirked. You carefully traced his cock again. ''You're still hard, Sanie, do you want another turn? Maybe you want to come in my pretty pussy this time?'' His eyes widened at those words and he nodded enthusiastically. ''Y-Yes, please,'' he begged you, ''please let me come in your pussy too.''
You turned to Seonghwa, and asked him too, ''And do you wanna come in my pussy as well? Do you both want me?'' Seonghwa scooched closer and pressed kisses in your neck. ''Yeah, please, wanna fill your pussy, please?''
''Mhm, lay down, Hwa, I'll get on top of you,'' you say as you helped him lay down. You straddled him, caressing his silky soft skin. Carefully you sank down on Seonghwa's shaft, letting him fill you up completely. You throw your head back and let out a long moan as you start to slowly move.
Suddenly you feel two firm hands on the back of your thighs, roaming your soft skin. The stretch burned in your core and you whimpered, feeling so full now San has snugly slid his cock besides Seonghwa's inside your needy cunt.
He pushed you down onto Seonghwa's chest, so now you are face to face with him. Your eyes glid over Seonghwa's cum-covered face, still ever so stunning. You moved yourself up and down the two cocks, meeting San's thrusts in the process. The way he rolled his hips felt so deliciously good you started to give in to the immense pleasure and let your mind get clouded.
The thrusting, slapping of sweaty skin on sweaty skin and the sinful moans and whimpers were adding to your pleasure. Seonghwa's hand ran up to your cheek to cup it as he lost himself in his pleasure. ''I'm coming, I'm coming, fuck!'' he cried. ''Come for me, you're gonna breed my little pussy, hm? Breed that little pussy of mine and fuck me full with your come,'' you moan shamelessly. This sends Seonghwa over the edge, spilling his seeds deep inside you. He sighs deeply as he slips his cock out of you, but holding you as San still ruthlessly slams into you.
San's moans became louder and his thrusts became erratic. You were writhing underneath him, squirming underneath his body as your legs trembled, your orgasm washing over you like a big wave. You screamed out as you reached your climax. San followed you soon after, emptying his balls inside you with a loud grunt.
He rode out your orgasms and slowly pulled out, watching your pussy leak immediately. He smirks before laying down on his side, pulling you on his chest to calm down.
When the three of you calmed down from your highs you grinned softly. ''What?'' San asked. ''Was this really the first time you guys fucked?'' San and Seonghwa looked at each other hesitantly.
''Well, we've done... things, you know. It started with masturbating together, just releasing pent up energy and that turned into handjobs... blowjobs and a whole lot of groping.''
''You two are so dirty oh my God,'' you laughed, ''does anyone know?'' ''Well dear God I hope not!'' San sighed. ''It's not like we're a thing... It's just like... friends with benefits,'' Seonghwa explained. You nodded and gently cleaned Seonghwa's face off.
''Do you think I could benefit too from now on?'' you laughed. ''You don't even have to ask, Y/N, we ain't letting you go anywhere.''
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Stay Supple | Y. Jh
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/aa8b57f623d86068aa54cb7bf14c567d/e794a21ce846c5b6-90/s540x810/c78dc290c0f56162b5ad43e111f3443c621e8094.jpg)
Genre: fluff, humour, smut
Summary: two ordinary worker have to deal with a baby. What should they do? Stay supple!
Missing Yoon Jeonghan hour:( but having so much fun writing this?
The weather was perfect, the sun shining just enough to complement the mood. Both you and Jeonghan waved as you split from the elevator—like clockwork. You headed left towards the design team, while he turned right to finance. Just another day as two regular employees at a food label under a large South Korean company.
"What's your relationship with Ji Y/N?" Jeonghan was first asked this after the two of you were seen leaving work together.
"She's my friend," he'd answer, as simply as possible, before walking off, leaving behind a trail of curious colleagues.
But when your coworkers found out you actually knew "the pretty guy from finance," their questions were relentless: “Is he single?” “Are you two dating?”
"He's my roommate," you revealed one day, much to their shock. "And, believe me, he looks way better than he actually is."
Exposing Jeonghan's less-than-angelic personality to his adoring fans became your daily amusement. It was a shock to everyone when they realized the two of you shared a flat. You’d known each other since junior high, moving to Seoul together in pursuit of better education, career prospects, and, maybe, love. But living in the capital wasn’t some dreamy K-drama. Everything was overpriced, especially rent. So, with some initial hesitation, you two decided to share an apartment.
"You failed your test?" Jeonghan mocked you years ago, when you returned from your architecture exam. He wasn’t surprised—you were hopeless at STEM subjects, and he loved to rub it in.
"I told you she was a snake," you reminded him when he came home heartbroken after his three-month relationship in university went up in flames. She'd used him to get through finals. Classic.
There was an ongoing joke between you two: "There are two types of people in this world—smart but evil, and kind but dumb." It didn’t take much guessing which label each of you wore.
“How was work?” Jeonghan asked as you both trudged home from the bus stop, a routine you had grown used to. The walk was long, so you filled the time with idle chat, unless you'd had an argument the night before, then it was all awkward silence.
You beamed at him, barely containing your excitement. "Amazing! The project I pitched was a hit! I can practically smell a promotion coming."
Jeonghan chuckled, amused by your enthusiasm. "Good for you. Finance was a bit of chaotic today. Did you know the production costs are getting cut by 2% next month?"
Your excitement dimmed. "Wait, what?"
Jeonghan laughed at your panicked expression. "Don’t worry. We're trying to keep it from affecting your department—maybe even that project of yours."
You sighed dramatically. "You finance people really hold the whole company together, huh?"
As you reached your floor and walked down the hallway, the sound of a baby crying echoed. You grimaced and commented on how loud it was, while Jeonghan mindlessly scrolled through his phone.
“Jeonghan,” you stopped just a few feet from your door, a strange feeling twisting in your gut.
Jeonghan turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "What?" he asked, eyes still on his phone.
You pointed toward your apartment door. He finally looked up and saw what had rendered you speechless.
A baby box was sitting right there, in front of your door.
“Well, that's... unexpected,” Jeonghan quipped, scratching his head.
*
You stepped out of the police station, practically fuming, your brows knit together in frustration. Whatever happened inside had clearly pushed you to the edge.
"Do I look like a mother? Do I look old?" you snapped at Jeonghan, still seething over the way the officers had assumed things about you and the baby. You were taking it personally—way too personally.
"We need to investigate this situation further. There’s no CCTV on your apartment floor, so it’s hard for us to confirm whether the baby was really left there or if it’s, well... yours,” one of the officers had said, completely indifferent to your rising anger.
Jeonghan sighed, still holding the baby box as if it weighed a ton. His day had been chaotic enough at work, and now this? He just wanted to take a nap, but instead, he found himself standing in front of the police station, accused of something as wild as fathering a baby outside of marriage.
Yet, somehow, he wasn’t as furious as you.
"So, what do we do with this creature?" Jeonghan gestured at the baby, still sounding far too calm for your liking.
"It's a baby," you muttered.
"I know it’s a baby. But what are we supposed to do? The police won’t take it without more evidence, and we can’t exactly keep it," he said, his voice getting louder, almost desperate. His raised tone startled the baby, who began to cry—loudly.
Jeonghan sighed deeply, the sound of the wailing infant pushing him to his limit. He shot you a pleading look, as if expecting you to pull some miracle solution out of thin air. "You’ve never thought about being in a situation like this before?" he asked, clinging to the hope that you might have a plan.
You shook your head, helpless. "I don’t know... I want to cry too," you mumbled, your frustration bubbling over.
Jeonghan groaned. "Great. That’s exactly what we need—two people crying."
He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Alright," he said, resigning himself to the situation. "Let’s just... take it home first. Then we can figure out what to do."
The two of you exchanged a look—one that spoke volumes about how absurd your day had become—before heading back to your shared apartment, a tiny, crying bundle now in tow.
You and Jeonghan sat on the floor of your living room, the baby box placed carefully between the two of you. The baby was still crying, its tiny wails echoing off the walls, and neither of you had the faintest clue how to make it stop.
"Do you think it's hungry? Or maybe... the diaper’s full?" you asked, throwing out the first guesses that came to mind.
Jeonghan instantly grabbed his phone and started Googling. "Yeah, uh, let me just... get some baby stuff," he mumbled, still scrolling as he stood up. He made it a few steps toward the door before turning back to point at you, with a smirk. "And don't do anything dumb while I’m gone. It may be a baby, but trust me—it’s judging you."
You glared at him. "Shut up!" you snapped, though there was a hint of panic creeping into your voice. You had never felt so out of your depth in your own apartment before.
Jeonghan laughed softly under his breath and hurried out the door, leaving you alone with the crying bundle. You sighed, looking down at the baby, and for a second, you swore it was staring back at you, its cries growing more impatient as if it really was judging your lack of maternal instincts.
“Okay, okay, I get it... I’m not cut out for this,” you muttered, feeling a tiny bit of guilt, though mostly stress, wash over you.
When Jeonghan returned home, the sight that greeted him was the last thing he expected. You were sitting on the couch, cradling the baby in your arms, swaying gently as if you'd been doing it for years. The baby was finally quiet, its tiny face peaceful for the first time since you’d found it.
“What did you get?” you asked in a whisper, your voice barely above a breath, as if any louder might undo your newfound peace.
Jeonghan held up a bag and gestured to its contents. "Baby milk, diapers, and... these," he said, showing you a bottle and a baby-sized nipple.
You raised an eyebrow, a little amused. "You got the essentials. How’d that go?"
Jeonghan sighed, a bit sheepish. "The staff asked me how old the baby was. I panicked and just said, 'Uh, it’s a baby... like, you know, baby.’ She gave me the weirdest look because I kept calling it it.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, careful not to disturb the baby. “Good job,” you said, offering him a sarcastic thumbs-up before handing the baby over.
Jeonghan, now holding the baby with a mix of terror and curiosity, watched as you headed to the kitchen to prepare the formula. He could hear you from the other room, opening a tutorial video on YouTube, the sounds of "how to make baby formula" echoing faintly through the apartment.
“Will it be too hot?” you called out once you’d finished preparing the milk, holding up the bottle and inspecting it like you were conducting a science experiment.
Jeonghan smirked, bouncing the baby a little in his arms. "If it can handle my hotness, I think it'll be fine."
You shot him a withering look and promptly kicked his leg, just enough to make him grunt in pain.
“Ow,” he grumbled, trying to keep his voice low, but the baby squirmed in his arms, clearly disturbed by the commotion.
“Shh, shh,” he soothed quickly, gently rocking the baby back and forth. You couldn’t help but smile at the scene—a rare sight, Jeonghan being careful and gentle, though his usual antics weren’t too far behind.
"Careful, 'hot stuff,'" you teased, handing him the bottle. "You wouldn’t want to disturb your new fan."
Jeonghan gave you a mock glare before turning his attention back to the baby, slowly offering the bottle. "Let’s see if this works."
*
Neither of you had gotten a wink of sleep. And for once, the reason wasn't work—it was a baby. A very fresh, very loud baby. After fumbling through the process of changing a diaper and discovering the baby was a boy, you immediately passed him over to Jeonghan, wincing.
“I feel like I violated his privacy,” you mumbled, shoving the squirming infant into Jeonghan’s arms. “I didn’t have his consent.”
Jeonghan just rolled his eyes at your dramatic excuse to get out of diaper duty. “Right. Smart-dumb way to avoid the work.”
The next morning, utterly exhausted and desperate for some relief, you two were saved by an unexpected visitor. Your neighbor, a sweet woman in her 50s, knocked on the door, her face full of concern. She’d heard the crying all night and was curious about the sudden arrival of a baby in your apartment.
You and Jeonghan immediately launched into a frantic explanation, stumbling over your words as you described how you’d found the baby on your doorstep. To your immense relief, she offered to help babysit while the two of you went to work.
Now, finally, there was a moment of peace as you both leaned back in the bus seat, your heads resting against the windows. You shared a glance, silently hoping the short 10-minute bus ride would somehow erase the exhaustion weighing you down.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
“She raised four kids. She’s more qualified than we are,” Jeonghan muttered, closing his eyes, the weariness catching up with him.
You sighed in agreement, sinking deeper into your seat. For now, all you could do was hope for the best and enjoy the few minutes of quiet before diving back into the chaos of your day.
"You should boil the bottle before using it, to kill the bacteria. Otherwise, the baby could get a stomachache and won't stop crying," your neighbor advised, her tone gentle but firm, as though the two of you were first-time parents instead of accidental babysitters.
Jeonghan and you stood there, nodding along, taking in her wisdom with wide eyes. "And don’t forget, after feeding, make sure he burps by patting his back gently. It’ll help him feel comfortable and sleep better."
With the baby in Jeonghan's arms, you both returned to the apartment, the weight of her advice hanging over you. You dropped everything you were carrying onto the floor, grateful when you noticed she’d even given you a small container of side dishes. You quickly stored them in the fridge while Jeonghan sat down, still rocking the baby gently in his arms.
"You should sleep," Jeonghan said after a few minutes. "I’ll watch the baby for now."
Without a second thought, you hummed in agreement, too tired to argue. You leaned over and gave Jeonghan a quick, tired kiss on the cheek as thanks before dashing off to your bedroom, ready to collapse. Jeonghan rolled his eyes with a smirk, though the small gesture made him chuckle.
As the door to your bedroom clicked shut, Jeonghan looked down at the baby, who had finally stopped fussing. “Well, it’s just you and me now, little guy,” he muttered, gently swaying from side to side. Exhaustion pulled at him, too, but the baby’s small face, now peaceful, kept him focused.
He yawned. "I need sleep as much as you do, buddy," he said softly, but continued rocking the baby, hoping the rhythmic motion would send him—and maybe himself—into a peaceful sleep.
*
Days of raising a baby you didn’t make—a running joke between you and Jeonghan to keep your sanity—were slowly becoming more manageable. The sleeping schedule was still a mess, but somehow, the two of you had adapted. You had even begun to master it. The real hero in your eyes, though, was Mrs. Moon, your neighbor, who had not only been babysitting but also offering wisdom, keeping both of you sane as you navigated this new, unexpected life.
One night, after a week of taking care of “Baby”—what you’d both started calling the little one—you and Jeonghan collapsed onto the couch. Baby lay peacefully in the rocking bed Mrs. Moon had lent you, her granddaughter's old one.
As you both sat there, half-delirious from exhaustion, the conversation inevitably shifted to the cost of suddenly having a baby around—mentally, physically, and especially financially.
“No wonder people in Korea aren’t having kids anymore,” you mused aloud, running a hand through your hair. “It’s a lot.”
Jeonghan, sprawled on the couch beside you, hummed in agreement. “I mean, it’s not news. Everyone knows how hard it is.”
“I’m so tired,” he said, his voice dripping with fatigue. “Like, mentally drained. All I want is to down five bottles of soju and just... disappear for a bit.”
You nodded, feeling the same way. “Right? I should be at a club right now, dancing, living my best life—maybe even finding someone to date,” you mumbled half-jokingly, staring at the ceiling.
Jeonghan turned his head to you, one eyebrow raised. “You’re going to find the love of your life at a club?”
You shrugged, barely amused. “It doesn’t have to be love, you know... could just be, you know—distraction,” you said, hinting at something more casual.
Jeonghan gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Cheap,” he teased, his eyes wide in mock judgment.
You swatted his arm, your voice dropping to a whisper, trying not to wake Baby. “I lost my virginity at 22! I wasn’t that cheap,” you hissed, more amused than angry.
Jeonghan burst into soft laughter, knowing full well you were just messing around. He’d known you for too long to take any of this seriously. “I’m just saying... you don’t exactly scream ‘wild-child looking for a one-night stand.’”
You rolled your eyes, chuckling under your breath. “Yeah, well, I could surprise you.”
“Uh-huh,” Jeonghan replied, still smiling. He glanced over at Baby, who remained peacefully asleep, and then back at you.
“When was the last time you had it? With Joshua?” Jeonghan asked, breaking into personal territory the two of you rarely ventured. He was referring to your ex, the American-Korean guy who had ended things when he had to leave the country.
You hummed thoughtfully, rubbing your face. “Honestly? I think I’ve forgotten how it even felt,” you admitted, casting a sideways glance at him. “What about you?”
Jeonghan leaned back, scoffing slightly. “With my last ex, obviously. I’m not some playboy, Y/N, no matter what you think,” he replied, sounding a bit annoyed by the label you often teased him with.
You smirked, resting your chin on your hand. “Was it hard? You know, to only do it with a few people?”
He nodded, glancing at you seriously. “Yeah. I only ever do it when I’m emotionally attached to someone.”
Your eyebrow quirked up. “Like when you did it with me?” you asked, playfully hinting at that one time between you two.
Jeonghan’s gaze shifted toward you, a small, knowing smile forming as he nodded slowly. “Yup. Including you.”
For a brief moment, the air felt heavier between you, the shared history lingering in the silence. But then, as always, the familiarity between you and Jeonghan smoothed over any tension, settling the moment into a comfortable memory rather than an awkward one.
*
“You want me to what?” Jeonghan asked, his tone laced with disbelief as he stood frozen by the door, still in his campus jacket.
He had just returned from a long day filled with senior-year responsibilities, juggling group projects and graduation prep. Lately, the two of you had barely exchanged more than a few words, with both your schedules completely packed. You were interning at an American-Korean company, and by the time you got home, you’d make a beeline straight to your room, too exhausted for much interaction.
“Please, Jeonghan,” you pleaded, sitting on the couch with clasped hands. “I don’t know who else to ask. I only trust you.”
Jeonghan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He always knew you could be impulsive, but this? This was next-level.
“It’s not something casual, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to comprehend what he was hearing. “It’s... complicated. You seriously want me to take your virginity?”
You pouted, your eyes wide with a mixture of desperation and resolve. “It’ll be a one-time thing,” you assured him. “I promise it won’t change anything between us. I won’t treat you differently.”
Jeonghan groaned, running a hand through his hair, clearly torn. “We’ve been friends for eight years,” he reminded you, his voice soft but serious. “What if it doesn’t go well? What happens then? Where am I supposed to live? Are we just going to keep splitting rent and pretend nothing happened?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, amused that he was worried about the rent in such a moment. “It won’t change anything. I swear.”
He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. He wanted to make sure you understood what you were asking for, that you were truly serious about this.
“I’m serious, Jeonghan,” you added softly, your voice more determined now.
He sighed again, his internal conflict clear. “You know this could get messy, right?”
You nodded, eyes unwavering. “I trust you.”
Jeonghan sat down beside you, still visibly unsure but also knowing that in all the years you had been friends, you had always been honest with each other.
After a long, tense pause, he finally spoke. “Alright. If you’re absolutely sure about this...”
*
The two of you took half a day off work, though the morning had started as any other. While you were still in your tank top, getting ready for the day, a knock on the door interrupted your routine. Thinking it was Mrs. Moon, you casually opened the door, only to be met by a police officer.
"Mr. Yoon? Are you Ms. Yoon?" the officer asked.
Caught off guard, you quickly excused yourself to change, leaving Jeonghan to greet the officer. When you rejoined them in the living room, the officer handed both of you a document.
"It's about the report you filed last week regarding the abandoned baby," the officer explained. "We apologize for the delay, but we've since received information about a missing person—a woman in her twenties who disappeared along with her infant."
You and Jeonghan exchanged looks, tension building in the room.
"So, we'd like you to bring the baby to the station. We'll meet with the family to confirm if the baby is theirs."
Later, at the police station, the baby was confirmed to be the missing woman's son, just two months old. The officer showed you and Jeonghan footage of a woman carrying the same baby box, wandering near your apartment complex before leaving it behind. While you weren’t given the full details about the mother, the footage left no doubt.
It was an unexpected turn of events, but also a relief.
“No more baby to babysit,” Jeonghan remarked on your way to work, a mix of exhaustion and amusement in his tone.
You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of the last few days finally lifting. “We should get Mrs. Moon that apple mango she’s been wanting,” you said, your voice light. Jeonghan made a mental note, closing his eyes as he leaned back in the car seat.
Finally, peace was coming—real peace, and not just the brief moments of quiet between diaper changes and late-night feedings.
"I'm sorry to ask, but I just want to make sure—are you two married?" The officer's tone was polite but curious.
Both you and Jeonghan shook your heads simultaneously. "No, we're not. We're just roommates," Jeonghan replied, a hint of amusement in his voice as he glanced at you.
The officer nodded thoughtfully, taking in your response before offering a friendly smile. "Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any further questions or information, don’t hesitate to reach out."
As the officer turned to leave, you and Jeonghan stood in front of the company building, the bustling city life continuing around you. The weight of the past week was beginning to fade, replaced by a sense of relief.
Jeonghan let out a small chuckle, breaking the momentary silence. "Can you imagine what it would have been like if we had been married? The rumors would have been wild!"
You laughed, shaking your head at the thought. "Thank goodness for our status as roommates, then. At least it keeps things simple."
With a shared smile, you both stepped into the building, ready to face the day ahead—less burdened by the unexpected chaos and more in tune with each other than ever.
*
You arrived home a little later than usual, the warmth of the evening lingering around you. After a lively team dinner filled with laughter and a few glasses of soju, you decided to take a cab home, the comforting thought of Jeonghan waiting, to take care of the drunk you, made the ride feel shorter.
As you stepped inside, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Jeonghan was slouched on the couch, drinking alone and engrossed in a variety show. The table in front of him was a chaotic scene of five bottles of soju and a box of fried chicken.
"You really have five bottles of soju?" you muttered, you sobered up from your own six glasses as the reality of the situation sank in.
"Hey, want to join?" Jeonghan offered, a lazy grin spreading across his face when he finally noticed your presence.
"You weren't joking when you said you would drink five bottles of soju," you replied, taking a seat beside him and pouring a shot of the clear liquid into a glass that had been left untouched, took in in one shot.
"Chill, girl. Did anyone bother you there?" Jeonghan asked, his words slightly slurred, yet still managing to express genuine concern.
You shrugged, leaning back against the couch. "Not really. But some higher-ups still made me pour drinks for them."
Jeonghan furrowed his brow, his expression shifting from playful to serious. Though he was clearly drunk, he was fighting to stay focused. "Which man should oppa kick his ass today?" he asked, referring to himself with a playful tone.
You chuckled, knowing how much he enjoyed the title. "Jeong Kiha," you mentioned, naming the vice president, which caught him by surprise.
"He came to your team dinner? That's rare," Jeonghan said, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can’t help you there; he’s my boss as well."
You leaned in, amused by the whole situation. "What would you even do if you could? Challenge him to a drinking contest?"
"Absolutely! I’d take him down for you," he declared with exaggerated bravado, raising his glass in a mock toast. “But let’s be honest, I might need more practice after five bottles.”
"But if he bothered you, I might just have to make it personal." He continued.
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Personal, huh? What do you have in mind?"
With a playful glint in his eye, Jeonghan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I could always take you out. Just the two of us. A more... intimate setting.”
Your heart raced at the suggestion, the alcohol fueling your boldness. "Intimate, you say? What would that look like, Jeonghan?"
"Maybe a cozy little restaurant where we can share more than just food and drinks," he teased, inching even closer. "I could help you unwind after your stuffy dinners with the higher-ups. Just you and me, no distractions."
A flutter of excitement surged through you. “And what else would we do, hmm?” you played along, your voice low and inviting.
Jeonghan smirked, leaning back slightly, eyes dancing with mischief. "I can think of a few ways to help you relieve some stress. You know, like teaching you how to really enjoy your drinks."
You laughed, feeling a rush of adrenaline. “Is that your idea of a fun night? Getting me drunk so you can have your way with me?”
“Maybe,” he said, his tone turning serious for a moment. “But only if you want it, too. I wouldn’t want to pressure you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”
His sincerity was disarming, and the tension hung in the air, electric. “You know, it’s tempting,” you admitted, meeting his gaze. “Very tempting.”
Jeonghan grinned, raising his glass again. “Then let’s toast to temptation and see where the night takes us.”
You clinked your glasses together, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, both of you fully aware that this night could lead to something unexpected—and perhaps a little dangerous.
*
Jeonghan knew he was screwed the moment you asked him to take your virginity. The eight-year crush he had nurtured for you transformed into something much more profound once he kissed you for the first time. It felt right—like the universe had aligned in that single, electric moment. Your lips tasted sweet, like vanilla; maybe it was the chapstick you always used, or perhaps it was simply how you tasted. Either way, it was everything he had fantasized about.
He touched you with a gentleness that belied the whirlwind of emotions inside him, laying you down on his bed, because you didn't want to mess up your own. Watching your face shift through various expressions as he explored you sent shivers down his spine. He couldn’t believe you were under him, something that the adolescent version of himself would have dreamt about while fantasizing in the dark, his hand working over his shaft as he thought of you.
The day after he took your virginity, you kept your promise, treating him as a friend and nothing more. And that, honestly, was the most disappointing part for him. While you moved on as if nothing had changed, his feelings remained steadfast, unwavering in their intensity. Eight years had passed since that night, yet his heart still raced at the thought of you.
Now, sitting beside you, he was acutely aware of the space that had grown between you, filled with unspoken words and lingering touches. Jeonghan leaned in, cupping your cheeks in his hands, feeling the warmth of your skin against his palms. His heart pounded as he captured your lips with his once more. After all these years, you were still as sweet as he remembered, and the taste sent him spiraling back to that first kiss, igniting the flame that had never truly faded.
In that moment, all the years of friendship, all the laughter and shared memories, faded into the background. The only thing that mattered was the soft connection between your lips and the lingering sensation of what could be. He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes for any sign of what you were feeling.
“Do you ever think about that night?” he whispered, vulnerability creeping into his voice.
You hesitated, your gaze flickering with uncertainty. “I try not to,” you admitted, your tone light but edged with honesty. “I didn’t want things to change between us.”
“And yet, here we are,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never stopped wanting you.”
The weight of his confession hung in the air, and you could feel the tension between you shifting. Jeonghan’s heart raced, hopeful yet anxious, waiting for your response. Would you finally see him for more than just a friend?
You met his gaze, a mix of emotions dancing in your eyes. “What do we do now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Let’s figure it out together,” he replied, closing the distance again, this time with a sense of urgency and purpose.
Jeonghan pulled you onto his lap, his hands roaming over every contour of your body, exploring the soft curves he had admired for so long. You kissed him with a passion that felt life-altering, pouring every ounce of desire and longing into that moment. The heat radiating between you ignited something primal in him—the idea that you wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted you was intoxicating.
He carefully unbuttoned your blouse, mindful that you would scold him if he broke even one button. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his fingers gliding over your bare skin, teasing your breast while his lips trailed kisses along your neck, igniting every nerve ending.
“J—Jeonghan…” A moan escaped your lips, and the sound sent shivers down his spine as he marked your neck with his lips, claiming you in ways that made his heart race. “I got you, baby. I got you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.
Your top lay discarded, and in a frenzy of desire, Jeonghan couldn’t even remember when he had removed it. He lifted your skirt, grabbing your ass as he kissed you deeply, pouring all his pent-up longing into that one kiss. He guided your hands to the hem of his t-shirt, encouraging you to strip him of his clothes. Your fingers traveled across his bare chest, and he let out a soft whimper at your touch, the sensation igniting a fire within him. This was the moment he had been waiting for—finally feeling your skin against his, a craving he had long held.
“Can you feel that?” he asked, thrusting his hips upward to let you feel how hard you made him. He noticed your cheeks tinting with a lovely blush at the revelation. “That’s how you make me, baby.”
He laid you back onto the couch, lifting your skirt higher until your thighs and underwear were fully exposed to him. One of his hands found its way to your breast, overwhelming you with sensations, while the other traveled lower, exploring your core beneath the thin, damp fabric that clung to you.
“You’re so wet, baby. And it’s all for me,” Jeonghan whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he nibbled on it playfully, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His tongue painted a path along your neck, igniting every nerve ending with desire.
“I need you, Jeonghan,” you whimpered under his skilled touch, desperation lacing your voice. But he hushed you with a passionate kiss, drowning your pleas in the heat of the moment.
“Be patient, baby… Just a little longer,” he replied, his voice a tantalizing promise as he continued to explore every inch of you, savoring the sweetness of your body and the thrill of this intimate connection.
He watched you gasp as he slid one of his fingers inside you, pulling it out slowly while your walls clenched around him. A smirk crept onto his face when you pleaded for more, and he was more than happy to oblige, moving his finger skillfully.
“Is it like the first time? When I fingered you, is it like what I did to you eight years ago?” Jeonghan teased, his voice low and sultry. You whimpered under him, craving everything he had to give.
“It feels amazing. Always.” You struggled to mutter the words, the pleasure overwhelming you as Jeonghan added another finger.
“You’re so tight, baby. I’m not sure you can take me well,” he breathed out, his fingers moving faster, each thrust eliciting a wince as you felt a pooling sensation deep in your tummy.
“I—I can, please… J—Jeonghan…” Your arms pulled him closer, your lips pouting for a kiss, and he obliged immediately, his lips capturing yours while his fingers continued their delicious torment.
“I want to cum,” you mumbled between kisses, and Jeonghan smirked against your lips. “Give it to me, baby.”
He could feel you tightening around his fingers, your body responding to him in a way that made his heart race. He pistoned his fingers with a brutal pace, feeling the pulsating tension building in your core. A loud moan escaped your lips, followed by your first orgasm with him after eight long years, and it was all for his fingers. The thought sent a surge of excitement through him; he couldn’t wait to make you cum with everything he had.
Withdrawing his fingers, he licked them clean, his gaze locked onto your blissed-out expression, riding high from the waves of pleasure he had just given you.
Without a word, he scooped you up from the couch and carried you to his bedroom. In one swift motion, he threw you onto the bed, his desire palpable as he pulled down his pants and joined you.
With an impatient urgency, he hovered over you, lips meeting in a heated kiss that spoke volumes of the longing built up over the years. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as your bodies melted into one another, igniting the passion that had simmered beneath the surface for so long.
"You want me raw or…?" Jeonghan asked, his voice low and filled with anticipation. His question sent a jolt through you, darkening your gaze as you whispered, "Raw." It was a bold confession, one that set the stage for everything that followed. "Just so you know, I’m on the pill."
He swore he could have died right in your arms at your admission, the thrill of it igniting something primal within him. As your hand traveled down to his abs, you let your fingers tease his skin for a moment before they finally grasped his hardened cock.
“Oh my god—” Jeonghan choked at your touch, his breath hitching. The smirk on your lips told him you were acutely aware of the effect you had on him, and it only intensified his desire.
“Put it in, please,” you begged, your voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. Jeonghan nodded, leaning in for one last, lingering kiss before he positioned himself, rubbing the tip against your slick entrance, feeling the heat radiating from you.
“Don’t tease,” you urged, your hand playfully pinching his arm, and he chuckled softly, the sound filled with desire.
With a teasing smile, Jeonghan finally pushed his member into your tight heat. He gasped at the overwhelming sensation, feeling you envelop him completely. Every inch of you was warm and inviting, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him, and he knew this was only the beginning.
He stilled inside of you, wanting you to adjust him for moment. You motioned him to move, a whimpered escaped his mouth as he pushed deeper to you slowly. Your walls clenching him tightly, pulling him deeper and making his head spinning. He pulled slowly before his hips thrusting, hitting you right, gaining a sensual moan from you.
"Keep it down, baby. Don’t want Mrs. Moon to hear us," Jeonghan murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he pushed deeper inside you.
"Faster, Jeonghan…" you breathed out the words, your voice a desperate plea laced with urgency. The thrill of being so close, yet so vulnerable, sent your pulse racing.
He obeyed, quickening his pace as he filled you completely, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to ground yourself amidst the intoxicating sensations.
The bed creaked beneath you. Jeonghan’s lips found yours again, silencing any sounds that threatened to escape, kissing you fiercely as if to drown out everything but the two of you.
"God, you feel so good," he groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he watched your expression morph from pleasure to pure ecstasy. "I’ve wanted this for so long."
You responded with a whimper, the sound echoing in the small space, and you felt the heat pooling in your core grow stronger with each thrust. "I want you to finish inside me, Jeonghan. Please," you begged, your words spilling out in a breathless rush.
His breath hitched at your request, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of control. "You’re going to make me lose it," he warned, voice thick with need. But the fire in your eyes only urged him on, driving him to give you everything he had.
"Then let go, baby. I’m ready," you encouraged, your body arching against him, meeting his thrusts with fervor. The world outside faded away as you lost yourselves in each other, the only sound filling the room being the rush of your breaths and the soft, wet sounds of your bodies moving together.
With one final, deep thrust, Jeonghan buried himself inside you, his body tensing as he let go, the pleasure washing over him like a tidal wave. You followed right behind him, your body tightening around him as your climax hit, drawing out every last bit of ecstasy from both of you.
As you both came down from the high, he collapsed beside you, breathless and spent, while you curled into his side, feeling a mix of satisfaction and disbelief at how far you had come.
“That was... Amazing?” you said, your voice breathless but filled with satisfaction. The choice of word earned a tired laugh from Jeonghan, who could sense your smile before you leaned against his chest, the warmth between you still lingering in the air.
Jeonghan, his heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, felt a wave of heat creep up his cheeks. He couldn’t hide the flush staining his skin, and in an attempt to conceal it, he covered his face with his arm, laughing softly. You shifted, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eyes, clearly enjoying his sudden bashfulness.
“Where’s the confident, cocky Jeonghan I know?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at his uncharacteristic shyness.
Without missing a beat, Jeonghan pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He rested his chin on the top of your head, refusing to let you see just how red he had become. It was rare for him to feel this flustered, but there was something about being with you that turned his usual bravado into something far more vulnerable.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the words muffled against your hair.
You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him with curiosity. “Sorry? For what?”
“I just... I can’t help it,” Jeonghan confessed softly, his voice almost shy. “I—I really like you. It’s been driving me crazy for years, and now that it’s all out in the open... I’m still not sure how to act.”
His confession felt light, as if every action, every kiss, every touch was its own declaration of the feelings he had been holding onto for so long. Saying it aloud didn’t feel like it added anything new, but he needed you to hear it anyway.
You felt his heart beating faster under your palm, and instinctively, you tightened your hold on him. “I... I really like you too. Honestly, I don’t even know when it started, but after all these years, I finally have the courage to admit it. I don’t just like you, Jeonghan. I love you.”
Your words hung in the air between you, sweet and sincere, filling the room with a warmth that rivaled any physical closeness. Jeonghan’s heart soared at your confession, a feeling of complete contentment washing over him. He had dreamed of this moment for years, but nothing could have prepared him for how real and incredible it felt to finally hear you say it.
You chuckled softly, resting your head back against his chest. “You really should’ve told me earlier, you know,” you teased, playfully poking at his side. “Like... earlier earlier.”
*
You watched the football game on the field, your eyes catching a lanky boy with long hair, dribbling the ball as if his life depended on it. His movements were fluid, almost effortless, and it was hard not to be impressed.
"Who's that?" you asked one of your friends, pointing toward the boy, curiosity getting the better of you.
"That? Yoon Jeonghan," they replied casually, as though everyone already knew his name.
Days later, you found yourself standing in front of Jeonghan's desk, clutching your math homework nervously. He was deep in conversation with his friends, his usual calm demeanor unshaken by the chatter around him. Mustering up your courage, you pulled the book from your bag and held it out to him.
"Teach me math! I heard you're the best," you declared boldly, your heart racing, half-expecting him to brush you off.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#seventeen angst#densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan smut#jeonghan fanfiction#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#jeonghan imagine#jeonghan fic#seventeen reactions#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut
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౨ৎ voicemails choi seungcheol leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: baby, darling)
...one: hey darling! we just arrived at the hotel. i called right after we landed but you didn't answer and then jeonghan reminded me that we’re in completely different time zones. i feel like a total idiot for forgetting about it. good thing you didn't answer though, i hope you have the sweetest dreams. anyway, call me in the morning when you wake up. i love you
...two: the bed felt so cold last night. fuck, it’s been only a day and i miss you like crazy already
...three: i think the kids are sick of me. they say i keep talking about you but (laughs) how could i not? how was your day though? what did you do today? did eat something good for dinner?
...four: that photo of you and kkuma you sent me earlier. (pause) it made my whole day. i immediately set it as my wallpaper. (sigh)
...five: i hate cuddling these goddamn pillows, i want you back in my arms baby
...six: oh my god, yesterday was so much fun! mingyu and dino took me out to drink, and we ended up in the shittiest street ever, and like, there were so many people staring at us weirdly. i know we’re good looking, but come on. then mingyu started to get scared, which started to freak dino out too (laugs). and then i started to get scared too. but then we discovered the best bar ever. i can't wait to tell you all about it
...seven: i saw it’s raining back home. i put an umbrella in your bag before i left because you always forget to bring it with you, and make sure to dress well. go over to my place and take some of my hoodies and coats, and i don't want to hear any complaints
...eight: i miss you
...nine: i should’ve brought a bigger suitcase with me, i swear i have so many gifts for you
...ten: i wish you could be here with me. (pause) i love you
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee
#seventeen x you#svt reactions#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen carat#seventeen kpop#svt fluff#seventeen smut#svt smut#scoups#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#svt#cheol#seventeen scenarios#seventeen reaction#scoups fluff
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LOVE BETWEEN TWO — n.rk
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synopsis: you and riki have different ways of seeing love but, in the end, you'll always know who you'll end up with.
or
moments building up before the first i love you
tags: childhood friends to lovers, non!idollau, neighbour!riki x f! reader, FLUFF!!!, only fluff and comfort :)
warning: proofread but might have some spelling + grammar errors
wordcount: 4.5k
published: 3rd october, 2024
authors note: this oneshot acts as a thankyou for all the followers and love i get!! i’m so sorry for not being more active :( BUT i completed this! and i just want to say THANK YOU FOR 1000!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU WHOLE!!! as much as riki loves you! and as much as we love riki :)
reblogs + comments appreciated
Act 1: loving
Riki had never understood love – that is, until he met you. He knew he loved many things, like dance, and his family and friends, but if you had asked him if he knew what love meant, he would have buffered like a 2000s-era computer. Of course, Riki knew what love was; he had watched it in K-dramas and had seen it rendered in manga. By their definition, love was hard. Love was hard and difficult and full of miscommunication, but also, love was soft and kind and offered the sweetest touches to one's heart that anyone could ask for.
Love was everything, and nothing, all at the same time.
He then concluded, after the piles of pirated manga and dramas he had accumulated over his 17 years of boyhood, that love was simply you. He didn’t need to be a genius to understand that; he knew if it wasn’t you, then no one was going to fit that definition of love for him. Riki didn’t fully understand love, but he understood you – how he felt about you. You, in all your beautiful glory. Love was your touch, your smile, your laugh. Love was what he looked forward to every day.
You were truly the only exception to his dilemma of love, because with you, love came so easily. Love was just like breathing – it was so effortless when it came to you. Love for you felt like rain kissing his cheeks in humid summers, like snow tickling his nose during winter, like an autumn leaf falling on his head in the fall, like cherry blossoms blooming when spring arrived.
Love for you felt like nature, like it was natural. He was sure he had been born to love you, inside and out. From the moment he had met you at the age of 4, when you were dressed in stained patchwork overalls, obviously from playing in the dirt; your hair tied in uneven pigtails because you had just had to tie them yourself. Your hands clasped some wilted old flowers he had passed while walking Bisco; you had offered them to him as a greeting gift with that cute little grin of yours.
“Hello! Want to be my best friend?”
Four-year-old Riki didn’t know it just yet, though he did have an inkling, but he would be head over heels for the girl in front of him for the rest of his life.
He had stared at the flowers in your hand, weak and slouchy in posture. He looked back up at you and didn’t have the heart to tell you that those flowers were the exact ones Bisco had decided to relieve herself on. So, he took those piss-stained flowers and nodded his head with as much agreement as his little body could give.
At the ripe age of 18, as he watched you from across his window, peering into your room, where you haphazardly flopped onto your bed with exhaustion despite only hanging out in his room all day. He could just tell you had screamed into your bed by the way you flailed around at the edge. He watched you suddenly stop, as if you had run out of battery, flip over to your back, and lay still for a while longer.
He loved you.
You could sense him staring at you, with your strangely acquired Riki-sense. You lifted your head to confirm your theory, and there he was, leaning against the window frame staring into your room. His eyes lay still on the object that was yourself, and he was filled with so much adoration, so much love, so much bliss at even the sight of you.
And yet, you scoffed at his blatant staring, feeling his chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul like the Ghost Rider from the movies. Of course, he had that stupid love-stricken look, and of course, he was already waiting for you to stare back.
Love for you had meant many things – too many things to quite pinpoint the right meaning. As you grew up, you learnt more about love than loss, and hence, you learnt that love hurts.
Love was like the humidity in summer, where the air was too thick, and the wind stuck to your skin; love was like the dullness of autumn, where the wind was cold and brisk but not enough to complain about – just enough to be irritable; love was like winter, where it got so cold you couldn’t even feel your face anymore, the season of sickness and disease that forced you to remain indoors and watch the sky cry frozen tears; love was like spring, when hay fever was at its worst, staining your cheeks with unintentional tears and a stuffy nose.
Love was hard. Love was difficult. Love was confusing.
You remembered every single time something you had loved got lost. The very first time was when the friendship bracelet Riki had made you when you were 5, decorated with mismatched charms and trinkets, disappeared one day when you went to the park. The nights you had spent crying didn’t outweigh the nights 5-year-old Riki had spent consoling and reassuring you that he’d make another one – a better one. But 5-year-old you knew the sentiment that was put into that very first bracelet, the one made without obligation to be replaced.
You remembered wailing about how it wouldn’t be the same, that Riki would have the very first bracelet, and you’d have a stupid second version because you had been careless. Then, you remembered the sound of beads crashing onto the ground, scattering anywhere and everywhere. You were scared you’d slip and crash despite being a giant compared to a measly bead.
“Now I’ll make two new ones so we’ll both be the same again.”
You couldn’t recall a more romantic and pleasant memory, where Riki had been so genuine and cute, so willing to give up something that was his to meet your happiness.
Five-year-old Riki really had you wrapped around his finger from that day on.
Despite your own volition, your heart bloomed and blistered, so full of him. It beat to the spelling of his name (in Morse code), and you couldn’t help but pull the threatening smile down into the scowl you attempted to display.
Like clockwork, your eyes locked with the same amount of love and willingness that you gave yourself credit for. You crawled towards your window and lifted it open so you could talk to him again as if the past 12 hours hadn’t occurred.
He was waiting for you, gazing like the stars had blessed his presence – graced his very being with the holiness that was you.
You had to force yourself to calm the oh-so-obvious flush of your cheeks, putting it down to hike up to your room as the reason for your sudden flare-up.
“Aren’t you tired of looking at me all day?” you remarked, and he was so quick with his reply, “I could never get tired of looking at you.”
Him and his flirty personality. You didn’t remember where he had gotten it from, or how he had developed it. You’d grown up with him all your life, and that part of his personality was still an anomaly.
You let a scoff out, rolling your eyes and folding your arms, blatantly ignoring the ache in your cheeks that you refused to surrender to his love.
“It’s not like I’ll disappear if you blink, relax,” but Riki had never been more relaxed than when he was looking at you. Not just the plain stares he gave during his maths classes, or at the dinner table, or even when he stared at his home screen that was so obnoxiously filled with you, but the type that showed interest, that showed he was immersed, devoured, totally consumed by whatever had his attention.
He liked to think he had found the perfect balance of clinginess and distance but still unknowingly leaned towards pulling you in.
“Most girls would love it if I stared at them,” he had said.
He was right. Nearly every girl at school would have sold an arm and a leg just for the boy to even look in their direction. If you weren’t you, you would have cherished and felt blessed to even have the Nishimura Riki in your presence.
But you were you, and you had grown up with this annoying brat all your life. Even if he could be sweet and sensitive at times, or when he tried to show you he was more man than boy, he was still Riki: your first friend, your best friend, and your first love.
Besides, someone had to keep his beautiful ass humbled, or else he would have resorted to those once-targeted alpha male Andrew Tate ads.
“To be honest, I find it a bit creepy,” you had snickered to yourself as he pouted at your response.
Those cute lips of his.
You had always known how to bring his rising ego down, one way or another.
With your smart and witty remarks, you anchored him just enough so he didn’t fly away and drift into the realm of egoism.
He couldn’t get enough of you.
“Fine. I’ll stop looking at you,” he had declared, but his eyes betrayed his words, and his gaze never, not once, pulled away. He had one eye open now, tilting his head away but still, ever so slightly, gazing upon the beauty that you emitted.
And you were still looking. Of course, you were; of course, you would.
You never took your eyes off him because he was just so cute, and his attempt to one-up you in snark was quite endearing.
“Good luck with that,” you had laughed, leaning onto your palm as you watched him sigh in defeat, but not before he caught your own gaze on him.
“Oooh, why are you looking at me like that?” he had prompted, leaning over his window to be closer to you. “Do you think I’m cute?” he wriggled his eyebrows ever so playfully, that shit-eating grin plastered on his face.
“No,” you had deadpanned, dropping your palm down to the frame. He pouted again, more pouty than usual, pulling a frown.
He whined with one of those annoying squeals, something you had grown used to over the years of knowing him. “My girlfriends are so mean to me,” he had said, frowning with his eyebrows pinching and lips pouting. You couldn’t help the small pull of your lips, seeing how comical he was being.
For a split second, you had lingered on his words. “My girlfriend,” he had said with so much pride. “My girlfriend” was all you really heard because he was calling you his girlfriend like it was your name, like it was a prize, a gift, a blessing. “My girlfriend” sounded like honey-laced praises.
He had feigned a gasp at the sight of you trying to hide your smile, and then you had burst into giggles because, of course, you revelled in his misery. But it was okay because the sound of your laughter, that joyous giggle, had erupted because of him, and that was more than enough to subside the little bits of bullying you always seemed to aim at him.
His heart beat along with the rhythm of your laugh.
It was late, and the stars had been watching your tales unfold.
Of a girl whose love yearned and pined, reaching the moon and kissing the ocean. Whose love was kept sacred and scarce, and yet, a love that was sought after, searching for love like hers. One that treasured and was kept safe, a love made of steel but soft like wool. A love that comforted.
And of a boy who loved like no other, so full and so rich. Whose love poured like the rain kissing the ground – endless and fulfilling. A love so abundant, it counted for the world.
There was so much love, too much. It was overbearing, consuming, and it was eating you both alive.
It was overwhelming.
“Hey.”
Your name had left his mouth like honey.
The silence of the gap between your two homes became deafening. Your laugh had slowly died, and your attention had glued onto him alone.
It was now or never.
Riki had known that love was you. He had known that the moment his eyes met yours, his definition had been filled in an instant.
He knew, he had loved – no, he loved you.
His second pause after the call had been enough to erupt a yawn from your lips, ever so slightly slipping past your perfectly shaped lips.
“You should get to bed,” he had said, but the lovesick gaze that you were too tired to catch said everything.
You had fought the urge to ask him what he was really thinking. You were tired, but you knew Riki – your Riki. You knew how his eyebrows pinched a certain way when he contemplated, only further accentuated when he hesitated.
You had his entire face burned into your mind, and your heart.
But for tonight, you had let him and his burning thoughts wait as you slightly nodded.
“I’m not gonna wake you up this time,” you replied, smiling ever so slightly.
You had left your window open, as you always did. Your window to his – it was like you were always together, connected through a fated string that crossed from one pane to the other.
…
Act 2: between
You had grown to find joy within nothingness—or so you told yourself.
All your life, you had searched for things to put meaning into. Simple commodities that resembled fractions of joy you attempted to keep. As a child, you had never pondered trivial things that would be impossible to find answers to.
You loved the definite, the certain, the things you knew you could hold close to your heart and never let go. Like the grudge you held for the boy who had bullied Riki when he was nine—too fiery of emotions for little you to experience. Your little face had burned red with anger, fists balled and shaking with rage. There had been no stopping nine-year-old you from unleashing divine fury upon the bully. Or like the childhood bracelet Riki made when you were kids, which you had sworn never to remove despite the horrendous combination of charms. A symbol of your eternal friendship.
As you stuffed your locker with yet another textbook you barely cared about, you heard cheers echo against the walls, ricocheting straight into your ears. The stampede of footsteps seemed to hurdle past you, racing toward an unknown presence from across the hall.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know who that presence was. Of course you did. You couldn’t ignore it, not when his fiery gaze burned holes into the back of your head.
You subtly looked over your shoulder, and there he was, in his glorious seven-foot-something stature. You saw how all the girls crowding him seemed to be trying to attract his attention, calling for his name, asking him silly, mundane questions. Anything just for a simple glance, but all Riki could do was stare at you like you were a lost treasure he had just discovered.
His gaze alone spoke a thousand words.
"I wish I could hold you."
"Your hand is mine."
"I want you."
"I need you."
"I miss you."
Those were more your feelings than what you thought his gaze said, but you had an inkling he felt the same way.
In the space between you, from metres away across the hall, you couldn’t help but feel so full of him—him and his love. He was saying nothing, yet the whole world went deaf in his presence.
You could see, miraculously through the heart-eyed girls, how he fidgeted with the little torn hem at the bottom of his shirt, remembering how you had been the culprit for that "measly" (his words, not yours) tear.
You watched as he scratched his neck awkwardly, trying to be as polite as a boy could be when rejecting a starry-eyed girl. They gave him chocolate-covered strawberries—though you knew he’d only eat them if they were microwaved despite your protests—and little love letters he would never end up reading, also despite your pitied protests.
All you wanted to do was pull him out of the crowd of crazed girls, to scream that he was yours—despite often telling him that you weren’t an object and shouldn’t be defined as "mine." Maybe it was jealousy that rippled through your blood, burning with a touch of yearning because, of course, you yearned for him. Every second of the day.
You yearned for his touch, his words, his silence.
Despite your many reluctances to say so, you were so deeply infatuated with Riki, you might as well have sprawled it across your forehead. Every distant look, light feathery touch, gentle breath that brushed against the shell of your ear. Everything he did, you clung to like a hoarder. A stupid, love-stricken hoarder. Every thought of yours was consumed by him, captivated by his every essence. Feminists before you would have shaken their heads, disappointed by how much you thought of Riki.
Frankly, you were too smitten with your dear ol’ boyfriend, even if he claimed you didn’t show enough affection to him.
Maybe it was for the best, as your gazes left each other like strangers with a fleeting glance. Similarly to last night, there was an invisible wall separating the two of you, tension threatening to crack under the pressure.
Riki was still being bombarded by love-sick girls, his longing gaze shifting into more of a plea as he watched you with all the free space he was supposed to take up.
You ignored his plea, of course, turning back around and into your locker. You would speak to him later anyway—it’s what he gets for making you late this morning (you had waited for him, as you always did).
…
Act 3: two
The two of you sit in the silence of your room for a change. The curtains of your window that peer into his room are pulled shut, dimming the space enough that you can only tell his expressions if you’re inches away from each other.
Which you are.
Riki insisted on staying over this time, wanting to leave the musk of his room for once. But really, he misses the sight of your walls.
Plastered across from him are pictures of friends and family, some of him and your shared friend group, others of his sisters and you. He thinks to himself how you have a knack for interior design, pleased with the way you showcase your love through photographs.
You say it eternalises the memories, so even when you’re both old and rotten to match your insides, you’ll always have the days of your youth.
And there’s a little flutter in his stomach when he thinks back to this memory because you said “both.” He loves that you see him forever entangled in your life.
Riki watches you doom-scroll on that godforsaken bird app. He likes to believe he’s got all your micro-expressions down—like the slight twitch of irritation in your eyebrow, the lift at the corner of your lip when you see something funny, or the scrunch of your nose when you see a resurfaced video of Nikocado Avocado.
Riki doesn’t spend half as much time on his education as he does staring at you. You’re awfully beautiful in your (his) shirt and dirty sweatpants. You’ve never bothered putting effort into your appearance when you’re in the comfort of your (or his) room, having known him far too long to care if he thinks your shirt smells like perpetual instant ramen.
His eyes travel from your appearance back to your face, and he just loves you. Loves sitting next to you. Loves seeing your face.Loves your appearance. Loves your personality. Loves that you're the opposite of a breath of fresh air—you’re comforted in his old, musty room.
Because even if he and you were stuck back in his room, you’d never change. You’re constant.
He loves the way your voice drops when you sense your tone’s shifted higher when talking to him, saying you’ll never be caught speaking to him with a babied voice. He loves how you deny his obvious affection for you—behind closed doors, because he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his friends. He loves your loudness, your quietness, your happiness, your silence.
He loves you.
He’s going to say it.
As he stares at you, yearning for you, you pretend not to notice the burning gaze of your lover. Twitter lost your attention long ago—the nth tweet about yet another scandal circling the app. Instead, you focus on your breathing. With how wild your heart’s beating, the best you can do is control how you breathe—ensuring you don’t fold in front of the lovely boy cuddled up next to you.
If Riki really knew how much you adored him—his hair, his eyes, his laugh, his smile, him—you’d never hear the end of it.
In truth, you’re simply enamoured with him. You love him. Everything about him. Years of girlhood wasted on a beautiful and sweet boy. Girlhood never prepares you for how to love a boy so lovely, so perfect. You think about how there have only been a few moments in your life where you’ve felt nothing but bliss.
Childhood was easy; ever since that fateful day where you picked a bunch of piss-covered flowers, you had no worries other than befriending the awkward little boy next door.
You’ll be sure to thank your parents’ boss for the move.
Teenhood, not so much; it’s riddled with an array of angst and anxiety. It’s a surprise you’re not imploding from the assignment you’ve been procrastinating or having a philosophical crisis like “what is love?”. But no, teenhood, albeit filled with plenty of anger and sorrow, has its fair share of wonderful moments.
Like right now, sitting in the comfort of your room—for a change. You’ve spent time imagining how your life would unravel, always with him in it, and how it ended up. The pictures plastered across the room aren’t just for show—they’re evidence that you’re happy.
Blissful.
Without Riki, you wouldn’t know what bliss is. Feeling nothing but pure and utter love.
He’s everything perfect about love.
And of course, you’ve said “I love you” plenty of times—80% of those times were when you were just kids. But that was when you were just friends. A silly phrase, really, because if you ask anyone who’s known you two since you were kids, they’d say you guys got married at the ripe age of seven with grass-bladed rings and flower crowns, with any passing animal as witness to your youthful marriage.
But now you’re dating—the dreaded boyfriend-girlfriend status. Nothing’s really changed in your relationship. Riki remains full of love and charisma, his attitude never wavering because, as he puts it, he’s known you were “the one” since you handed him those dirty flowers. You’ve remained witty and lovely as always, retaining the same spunk you had as a kid. The only two differences (soon to be one) are that your status has changed from friends to dating, and you’ve yet to say those three words, eight letters.
The phone that sits in your loose grip almost slips out, clearly losing its purpose of mindless distraction. To your dismay, Riki catches sight of your fumble, noting that you haven’t scrolled in seven minutes.
“Did my shameless staring finally catch your attention?”
He’s shameless, alright.
You drop your phone, staring deep into his dreamy eyes. You remain silent, but your expression tells him everything.
Despite the pull of your eyebrows and the purse of your lips, you love him.
“Say… what’s one thing you love about me?” he prompts, ready to finally tell you those long-awaited words. He’s thought it all out—how he’d list everything he loves about you, like he’s about to write your biography. He’s been dreaming of this moment since you started dating.
You think thoughtfully, like you’re scrounging your brain for an answer, leaving the silence in the room to deafen him with anticipation.
“Hey! Stop thinking so much!” Riki exclaims, offended that you’ve taken more than three seconds to answer, while his response would take 0.003 milliseconds (at least in his mind).
You let out a playful giggle, something you gave up trying to hide long ago. “I’m kidding,” you say, smiling.
“I’m kidding,” he mocks you in his ridiculous, high-pitched voice.
You love many things about him, too many to count. You simply love everything about him, like a reflex you can’t control.
“I love it when you’re silent.”
Riki visibly deflates, a slight frown ghosting his plump lips. His eyebrows pinch into a “what the hell” kind of expression, and his nose scrunches cutely at your words.
But you smile knowingly, taking in his sudden silence. You tune into the stillness of the room.
A rapid heartbeat.
“If you hate talking to me, just sa—”
“Because even when you’re quiet,” you interrupt, stretching your hand out to gently caress his hair, “you’re the loudest in the room.”
Your hand travels from his hair to cup his cheek, and Riki—the ever entranced—instinctively leans into your touch.
“Because you can just look at me, and I hear everything I need to hear.”
Your words are soft, gentle, and Riki swallows the lump in his throat that he hadn’t realised had formed. He stares deeply into your eyes—a different kind of stare than before.
Normally tender and kind, full of unspoken words of love. Now, all you see is devotion.
Riki focuses on the silence you’ve created, tuning into the nothingness that you said you loved about him.
And he thinks he can hear it, the silence.
It’s so loud, it bounces off the walls, pounding in his heart—even you can hear it.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
“What do you hear?” He pulls you closer, your lips hovering above his, so close he can feel your breath.
“I hear ‘I love you.’ ”
Your lips mould against his before he can respond, but something tells him that you know. And besides, he has a lifetime's worth of “I love yous”— he’ll let you have this one.
author's note pt.2: its been more than a year since i made this wip and i finally finished it LOLLL it took me so longggg ANDDD i feel like its a bit lackluster in the second act... ENJOY THOUGH. i love the the ending
#mandukkul#mandukkul’s aquarium#enhypen#nishimura riki x reader#ni ki x reader#niki x reader#riki nishimura x reader#nishimura niki x reader#ni-ki#niki fluff#nishimura riki#ni ki#niki enhypen#enhypen x reader#niki imagines#riki nishimura#enhypen riki
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Gitae Kim x Reader: K-dramas
G/N. Crack. Platonic or romantic. Masterlists
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The strangest thing about Gitae, of which there are many, is that he gets heavily invested.
In k-dramas, that is.
It's a strange interest from a strange guy.
He never watches it outright, usually scrolling on his phone next to you. Though when you occasionally turn to him, he's avidly watching the screen.
And he would never watch it on his own either, instead suggesting "why don't you watch that shit you like?" and sneaking glances here and there.
You never mention it to him, because this trait is so deeply endearing from an intimidating and terrifying man, that you fear talking about it at all will break the spell.
You wonder if it's because he misses his home. If watching k-dramas and seeing glimpses of Seoul, hearing his mother tongue makes him feel nostalgic.
However, the least strange thing, as you have gradually come to find out, is that he prefers k-dramas with a little less melodrama, and a lot more murdery and bloodthirsty.
The more people dying the better. The more fights the better.
Especially if there's betrayal. Especially if there's death of family members (preferably the dad or siblings).
It's frankly a little unhinged. Watching the grin spread across his face as the plot unfolds, the way his eyes light up when the body count increases. Although it's a challenge you've personally taken on to find the most violent series you can that ticks all his boxes.
In the end, you are successful. Gitae drops all pretence of being on his phone. It's hard to distract him from anything but the action unfolding.
And the final cherry on top, is when you see him browsing forums, reading up theories and actually participating in discussions. Leaving deeply unpopular comments wishing for more brutality and sadism. Ideally, with the antagonist, no actually scratch that, the whole cast dying too.
#i just thought. wouldnt it be funny if gitae is watching a kdrama or whatever with you. but then ofc he couldnt be normal about it#lookism#lookism x reader#gitae kim#kitae kim#kim gitae#gitae kim x reader#kim gitae x reader#lookism fic#lookism webtoon#lookism manhwa#wannaeatramyeon
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Moth To A Flame | JJK & KMG | 03
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader x Kim Mingyu Genre|tags: Idol!au, series, established relationship, infidelity, lots of angst, lots of drama, smut, maybe fluff. Word count: 15.8k + Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Chapter warnings: Angst at its finest, like, literally this is pure and raw angst (poor baby is going through it), mentions of Jungkook smoking, crying, everyone here needs therapy, mentions of Jungkook not handling the BTS hiatus very well, arguments, abuse of power by a superior (?). Lemme know if there's more. A/N: 1. Time to get some questions answered...; 2. As ARMY, it's so strange/painful, but at the same time, relieving, to write about the things that happened in 2022 with BTS, knowing that it's already 2025 and the war is over; 3. I have no idea when chapter four will come out, I decided it will be a surprise, so it can come out tomorrow or in two weeks hehe.
Summary: Four years ago, you crossed paths with a charming member of the K-pop group Seventeen during their tour stop in Osaka. The two of you shared three intense, unforgettable days before life took you in different directions. It was painful for both of you, but you knew you couldn’t take things any further and had to say goodbye. Now, back in Seoul for good, you’re in a new relationship with another idol: Jeon Jungkook—whose charm and stability make him everything you thought you wanted. You are very much in love with him, and as your connection deepens, it feels like your life is finally falling into place. That is, until you meet one of your boyfriend’s best friends and are stunned to discover it’s the same man you fell for in Osaka all those years ago. As buried emotions resurface and secrets begin to unravel, you find yourself torn between these two men, caught in a whirlwind of love and conflict, testing the boundaries of loyalty and the choices that could change everything.
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The moment you walked out of HYBE headquarters, your entire body seemed to spiral into a state of complete mania. You paced around the block for a few moments, overwhelmed by an intense urge to scream and laugh uncontrollably—all at the same time.
Your phone showed multiple missed calls from Jungkook, likely eager to know how the meeting had gone, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to answer any of them. You didn’t know how to tell him the news without sounding like you were on the brink of psychosis for reasons entirely unrelated to the happiness of landing the biggest opportunity of your career.
Instead, after minutes of aimlessly wandering the streets like someone who had just escaped from a psychiatric hospital, you made the only choice that felt right: you called your best friend.
“Wait,” Dahee said, holding up a hand to stop you mid-sentence, her steps faltering as if the physical pause could help her process everything you’d just unloaded on her. “Mingyu? As in Osaka Mingyu?”
You nodded, taking another lick of your strawberry ice cream. “Yep.”
You nodded, taking another lick of your strawberry ice cream. “Yep.”
Initially, you both met at your usual spot—a cozy restaurant downtown, tucked by a window that overlooked the bustling street. The aroma of barbecue wafted around you, blending with the soft clink of dishes and the murmur of voices. You and Dahee dove into a meal not much after, her excitement about her upcoming wedding filling the air immediately. She animatedly described the flowers, venues, and music with her eyes sparkling, and you simply couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt her with the chaos that inhabits your mind.
As the hours passed and you started walking together along the Han River, Dahee finally looked at you, curiosity shining in her eyes. With a gentle nudge, she asked what was going on with you. Her sincerity was unmistakable, and after a steadying breath, you began unraveling the turbulence of your life events, spilling every detail you’d been holding back all day.
Dahee’s expression after you finished telling her everything was like you’d sprouted two extra heads right there on the riverbank. She blinked a few times, processing each piece of information you’d just handed her. Finally, she shook her head, eyebrows raised.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice barely above a gasp as she tugged you toward one of the benches along the shore, her hand gripping your arm tightly. “First of all, I’m hurt that you never told me that Mingyu from Osaka was the Kim Mingyu.”
“I couldn't, babe,” You shrugged, leaning back comfortably against the bench. “Seventeen's legal team made me sign an NDA. I couldn't even be telling you this.”
You felt a pang of frustration as you recalled the weight of that document, the way it had silenced your thoughts and feelings about everything that had happened four years ago between the two of you.
Dahee’s jaw dropped, her mouth opening and closing a few times before she finally found her voice. “An NDA? Seriously?”
You nodded, gaze shifting to the river, its calm surface contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside you. “I couldn’t say a word to anyone about what happened. I couldn’t reach out to him. Hell, I wasn’t even allowed to be in the same country as him for years.”
The words slipped out of you like a confession, each one weighted with the years of secrets you’d held inside, now finally spilling free.
The pain of knowing he had chosen this path remained buried deep within you. You still felt naive for believing in everything he had said and promised that morning before you went your separate ways. Four years had passed, and while you were no longer the person you once were, and thought the green light of forgiveness had already been lit, even if only on your end, it still hurted.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Dahee studied your face, brows knitted together. “I thought NDA’S were just myths.”
“Oh, they’re real, all right,” you replied, a bitter smile touching your lips. “And terrifying.”
“How did they even ban you from being in the same country as him?” Dahee asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. “That is incredibly so unfair.”
“It was part of the NDA. They included a clause that forbade me from trying to contact him or even being in the same place as him for a certain period of time,” you said, taking another bite of your ice cream. “They wanted to protect his image, to keep the media from blowing anything out of proportion. To not make a big thing out of something insignificant.”
Those exact words that came out from his manager’s mouth, hitting you like a slap across the face and reverberating in your mind with an almost cruel precision for years. You could only guess that you were insignificant enough to be erased from his life, but important enough to warrant a whole legal agreement about it.
Probably what he thought too.
“I didn’t have a choice; it was either that or risk legal action.” You completed it.
Dahee stared at you, completely dumbfounded, her jaw slack as she tried to process what you’d just said. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands for a moment before letting out a muffled groan.
“That’s insane. How do you even enforce something like that? Did they just expect you to… what? Erase him from your memory like he’s some kind of ghost?”
“Pretty much,” you replied bitterly, taking the last bite of your ice cream. “Until last year, at least.”
“That's why you didn't come back sooner,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours for reaffirmation.
You nodded, a rueful smile playing on your lips. “Yeah.”
Dahee let out a low whistle, leaning back against the bench. “Wow. That explains so much. And now, you’re telling me that the biggest opportunity of your career just so happens to be working with him? Talk about fate having a sick sense of humor, bestie.”
“Exactly," you muttered, dragging your hands down your face in exasperation. "It's like the universe is laughing at me. 'Oh, you're finally moving on? Cool, let me drop Mingyu right back into your life for funsies.'”
“And no one at HYBE thought this might be, I don’t know, a tiny bit problematic for the two of you?”
“I don’t think they know, or even care. Pledis wasn’t part of HYBE back then. So to them, I’m just another freelancer with a decent portfolio,” you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “I think no one there remembers what happened between us.”
Dahee sighed deeply. “I’m so sorry, babe,” her expression softened. She reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That sounds incredibly painful to hold to yourself.”
You felt a lump form in your throat as you nodded, grateful for her support right now. “It’s been a struggle. I thought keeping busy would help me forget, but seeing him again…”
You trailed off, unable to find the words to fully explain the emotions crashing through you. Memories you thought you’d buried deep had come rushing back with such force it felt like you’d been blindsided for four years.
Dahee’s grip on your hand tightened, her voice firm yet gentle. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone, you know. Why didn’t you didn’t tell me the second you connect the dots about his connection with Jungkook?”
“I didn’t know what to do, to be honest. Considering how everything went down, I… thought he’d forgotten about me, Hee.”
She raises an eyebrow at you. “And he didn’t?”
You hesitated, biting your lip before shaking your head. “No.”
That much you were sure, since he hadn’t left you any room to think otherwise. It was clear in the way he looked at you, like he wanted to ask a thousand questions but held himself back, respecting Jungkook's presence beside you. The way he kept conversation, the way he and his friends talked about Osaka and referred to you, even without knowing it was you. It was almost like he wanted you to see he still cared, but didn’t want to be direct about it.
You just couldn't understand why.
“Did he say something to you? Otherwise you wouldn't be thinking about it.”
You hesitated again, the words lingering on the tip of your tongue. Maybe Dahee was right—if nothing had happened, if he hadn't followed you to the bathroom, if he hadn't asked to talk, if he hadn't looked at you like that, as if it were the first time he was seeing you in his life, or said us that way, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t still be dwelling on it.
"He asked if we could talk.”
Dahee straightened up, her expression a mix of curiosity and cautious concern. “And what did you say?”
You shrugged, fidgeting with the edge of your coat and looking away from her. “That I would think about.”
You could feel her gaze studying you carefully, her faze was sharp but not unkind. Dahee sighed deeply and you held your breath for a second, believing you were going to get scolded by your best friend for having allowed even the smallest space to open, giving the guy who had broken your heart in the worst possible way a sliver of hope that he might talk to you again.
“So let me get this straight,” she started, planting the palms of her hands on her own legs, the marquise-shaped diamond of her engagement ring shining brightly. “Mingyu, the guy who allegedly tried to erase you from his life and left you with a suitcase full of unresolved emotions and the biggest heartbreak of your life, wants to talk. And you didn’t say no, but you didn’t say yes either.”
“Pretty much,” you admitted, feeling the weight of it all press down on you again.
The fact that he wanted to talk set off a cascade of flags in your mind. What could he possibly want from you now? Why, after all these years, did he choose this moment to break the silence? Hadn't he been the one to make the decision for both of you all those years ago? Was it because he saw you with Jungkook that your ego couldn't handle it?
Deep down, you knew he wasn't like that. You knew perfectly well that he wasn't that kind of person. But now your brain was already working with far-fetched answers to the confusing questions surrounding it and the only person who could answer them was the one you weren't ready to face yet.
Dahee let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. “This is the kind of plot twist I'd expect from a bad drama, not your life. Are you okay, though? Like, how are you feeling now?”
You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.
The truth was, you weren’t allowing yourself to feel anything, while at the same time, you were feeling everything—the good, the bad, the messy ones. It was a paradox that seemed to stretch you thin, tearing at the edges of your composure. For the longest time, you found yourself torn between two extremes: the desperate yearning to see him every day, and the equally fierce desire to never lay eyes on him again.
Sitting there by the river, with Dahee’s presence beside you, it was the first time in years you allowed yourself even a sliver of vulnerability about this subject. The chaos of seeing Mingyu again, of being thrust into a situation you’d worked so hard to avoid, made your defenses feel paper-thin. And now, after landing the job that could very well change your life, you felt like that fragile piece of paper was precariously floating on water, ready to dissolve into nothingness.
The idea of starting fresh as Seventeen’s stylist should have excited you—it did excite you—but the weight of the past lingered, heavier than you wanted to admit. You knew that from now on, there would be no avoiding Mingyu. In fact, you would be seeing him far more than you ever could have imagined over the past four years.
Seeing Mingyu again wasn’t just a footnote; it was a headline, bold and unavoidable.
How could he suddenly reappear in your life and completely upend everything? How could he suddenly seem to be everywhere?
These thoughts wouldn’t stop circling, growing louder with every passing minute under the moonlight. It felt like a cruel twist of fate, like the universe had been waiting for the perfect moment to throw your carefully built world into disarray. You had spent years carefully locking away every memory, every feeling tied to him, convincing yourself it was better this way. That his absence was a closed chapter, one that didn’t need reopening. Yet here you were, about to walk into a reality where he wasn’t just present—he was unavoidable.
“I don't know. I mean, I thought I was okay. I’ve spent years trying to move past it, convincing myself it didn’t matter anymore. But seeing him again… it’s like all the progress I made just evaporated.”
After everything, you were the only one who ended up with wounds to bind. And now it looked like it was all open wide while someone dumped a bag of salt into it.
“And the worst part? I’m not even angry at him anymore. I’m just… sad. Sad that it ended the way it did, sad that I still don’t fully understand why,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. “But then there’s Jungkook, who is perfect, and makes everything feel so magical, so right and…” you paused, letting the morning's events replay in your mind. “He asked me to move in with him this morning.”
Dahee froze, her eyes widening and mouth falling open in astonishment.. “Wait, what?” she finally said, her voice tinged with disbelief. “How did you even respond to him?”
“I didn’t,” you admitted, letting out a long sigh and pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes. “I also told him I’d think about it.”
Dahee groaned, rubbing her temples like she was getting a headache just from hearing everything. “Okay, so Mingyu reappears, bringing all your unresolved trauma back to the surface, and a week later, Jungkook, your incredible, loving boyfriend who would probably lasso the moon for you, asks you to move in with him?”
“That sums it up,” you said with a weak laugh, though there was no humor behind it, and taking your hands from your eyes to your hair, restlessly. "Two weeks ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say yes, Hee. Damn it, why does everything feel like it's moving so fast now?"
“Babe, that's… huge,” she murmured, gaze softening again with understanding. “Like, life-changing huge. Of course it feels fast. You’ve got a whole lot of emotions to process, and now this. No wonder you’re feeling overwhelmed.”
You blinked rapidly, the lump in your throat threatening to spill over into tears. It was actually a surprise that you hadn't shed any tears yet today. “I mean, I should be happy, right? Jungkook is everything I ever wanted and it took me so long to feel like this again after Mingyu. But now…”
“It’s like you’re second-guessing things because of Mingyu.” Dahee finished your sentence as if she’d read your mind.
“Yeah.” You buried your face in your hands. “It feels like I’m being pulled in two different directions, and I don’t know which one is going to tear me apart first.”
The words hung in the air, raw and heavy, as your chest tightened with the weight of your own admission. It wasn’t just about a choice—it was about the uncertainty, the guilt.
On one hand, you did want to say yes to Jungkook because he’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and you know he loves you, just as much as you love him. But on the other hand… there’s Mingyu. And it's not like you're thinking about going down that road again, because you're not. But just the idea of him being a part of your life again is enough to throw you completely off balance.
Dahee reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Have you told Jungkook anything yet?”
You shook your head, biting your lip. “I haven't.” You exhaled shakily, lowering your hands and staring at the calm river in front of you.
How do you even begin to explain this to him?
'Hey babe, remember how I told you I had a complicated past? Surprise! My ex-situationship is Kim Mingyu, your best friend, and we’re going to be seeing each other almost every day now. Do you still want me to move in?’
“I’m scared, Hee,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I just… I’m terrified of how he’ll react. What if he thinks I’m not over Mingyu? What if this ruins everything?”
Dahee frowned, tilting her head as she regarded you with a mixture of concern and resolve. “But you’re not holding onto Mingyu, right?” she searches for your face, and when you say nothing, she asks, her tone turning more serious, “I mean, how do you actually feel about him?”
Mingyu.
Mingyu.
How did you feel about Mingyu? It wasn’t an easy answer. One you were still working to figure out. Just his name alone brought a flurry of emotions you didn’t want to confront. Guilt, anger, sadness, longing—all of it muddled together, making it impossible to think straight.
“I…” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper. You looked away, focusing on the ripples in the river as if they might offer some clarity. “I don’t know.”
Dahee didn’t push, giving you space to sort through the chaos in your head. But the silence wasn’t comforting—it felt like an interrogation room, the weight of the truth pressing down on you.
“It’s not that I’m still in love with him,” you finally said, your voice barely audible. “It’s just… seeing him bring back everything I tried so hard to bury. The what-ifs, the unresolved feelings, the stupid hope that maybe, somehow, he didn’t forget about me too.”
“I’m not gonna lie,” she started, her tone playful. “For a long time, I thought the guy from Osaka was your imaginary friend or something.” You laughed at her effort to lighten the mood, grateful for her attempt to break the tension within you. “The way you talked about him back then, it was like he’d disappeared into thin air. Poof.”
You sighed, the weight of your thoughts settling in as you laid your head into her shoulder. “Maybe it would have been easier if he had.”
Dahee let out a soft hum, her hand gently rubbing your arm as the two of you sat in silence for a moment. The city lights reflected on the surface of the river, casting a shimmering glow that felt oddly soothing despite the storm of emotions swirling within you.
“Maybe,” she said finally, her voice quieter now.
You glanced at her, a small, wry smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”
She shook her head immediately, her expression softening.
“Not even close,” Dahee said firmly.”I think you are someone who has never gotten closure from your past.”
You looked down, letting her words settle over you like a balm. They didn’t erase the turmoil inside, but they softened the edges, making it feel a little less insurmountable.
Closure? What's that like?
“I just…” you began, voice trembling. “I don’t want to hurt Jungkook. He’s... he’s everything. And I’m scared that even considering talking to Mingyu is betraying him. I love Jungkook so much, Hee. He’s everything to me and I’m scared shitless of losing him.”
Dahee sat silently for a moment and her gaze drifted to the river. You could almost see her mind turning, sorting through the weight of your words and the emotions you’d finally allowed yourself to express, raw and unfiltered for the first time in ages.
“Listen, you don’t owe Mingyu closure. Not after what he and the company put you through. But you do owe it to yourself to figure out how you want to handle this. Whether that’s keeping things strictly professional or finally getting the answers you deserve.”
Her gaze seemed to be piercing your soul. You knew that no one was better at listening to your mental confusion than her, and you couldn't be more grateful that you had chosen to turn to her first.
“I do think you should give yourself some credit. You’ve been blindsided in a massive way, and anyone in your position would feel a little unsteady.” Dahee gave you a look that was equal parts stern and compassionate. “However, you need to talk to Jungkook about this. Not about Mingyu specifically, maybe, but about how you’re feeling. He loves you, anyone with eyes can see that. He deserves to know before this becomes an even bigger mess.”
You swallowed hard, her words hitting a little too close to home. Deep down, you knew she was right. Jungkook deserved honesty, even if it scared you to lay everything bare.
“I don’t even know where to start,” you murmured, your fingers curling into fists in your lap. “How do you tell someone you love that you’re suddenly tangled up in unresolved feelings from the past without making it sound like you’re questioning your relationship with them?”
Dahee let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Just tell him what you told me: that seeing Mingyu again threw you for a loop, but it doesn’t change how you feel about him.”You stared at her, the simplicity of her suggestion making your chest ache. Maybe it really was that simple—if you didn’t let fear complicate things further.
“And what about Mingyu?” you asked hesitantly, the name tasting bitter on your tongue. “Do I... talk to him? Or do I just pretend he’s not there and hope this whole thing goes away?”
“That depends,” Dahee’s expression hardened slightly, her lips pressing into a firm line. “If he wants to apologize, maybe hearing him out could give you some closure. But if he’s just trying to wiggle his way back into your life with no good reason, you don’t owe him anything.”
You exhaled, the weight of her words settling into your chest. She was right, as always—but that didn’t make any of this easier.
“I don’t even know if talking to Mingyu will give me the answers I’m looking for. Don’t know if I’m ready to hear them either,” you admitted. “What if it just makes everything worse?”
Dahee tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Or what if it gives you the closure you need to finally move forward? You can’t control how it turns out, but avoiding it forever isn’t going to help either. Sometimes the only way out is through, babe.”
The thought both terrified and comforted you. Could you face Mingyu again, knowing how much he had hurt you—and how much you’d tried to move on? Could you really hear whatever it was that he needed to say without letting it unravel the life you’d built?
“I guess the question is,” Dahee continued, her voice softer now, “are you ready to let go of the past? Because if you are, maybe this conversation is exactly what you need to do.”
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After your conversation with Dahee, you spent a few minutes alone in your studio-slash-apartment, carefully sorting through your thoughts until everything felt perfectly clear. You had finally made up your mind about telling Jungkook the whole truth, convinced that he deserved to hear all of it from you, and by all of it, you meant all of it, including your hesitations regarding the biggest opportunity of your career and why.
No more secrets. No more running from your past.
Still, even though you were certain of your decision, stepping out of the elevator in Jungkook’s building, you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that the road ahead was about to become much more complicated.
Could he handle all of it? Could you handle laying it all out for him?
It wasn’t just about the past; it was about the future, too. The idea of moving in together, of merging your lives more deeply than ever before, felt both exhilarating and terrifying. If you said yes, would this be the start of something even more beautiful than you already had now, or would the ghosts of your past threaten to tear it all apart?
Your mind has been your worst enemy lately, and you knew that. It felt like the only things occupying it were unanswered questions and nagging insecurities. It was as if you had regressed four entire years of therapy to deal with things like that.
The hallway on the top floor of the building where Jungkook lived was silent as you typed in the password and let yourself into the apartment. The familiar beep of the keypad was followed by the faint click of the door unlocking, and you stepped inside.
Almost immediately, an excited Bam darted toward you, his nails clicking against the wooden floor. His dark eyes sparkled with recognition, and he let out a happy bark, throwing his front paws at your legs in a determined effort to reach your face. You laughed softly, crouching down to greet him.
“Hi, my baby,” you cooed, running your hands over his silky fur as his thin tail wagged furiously. “Did you have fun with uncle Junghyun today?”
Bam responded with an enthusiastic lick to your cheek, making you giggle despite the heaviness of your thoughts. You stayed there for a moment, scratching behind his ears and pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head, letting his boundless energy soothe some of your nerves.
Straightening up, you glanced toward the living room, where the glow of Jungkook’s mood light projector cast a soft, familiar warmth. Looking around, you saw that the television was paused in some reality show, and somewhere in the apartment, you could also hear the soft melody of an R&B song somewhere, although Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.
“Bamie, where’s appa?” you asked sweetly, slipping off your shoes, setting your bag and phone on the console, noticing now that it was out of battery. Bam tilted his head at your question, then turned and trotted toward the hallway, as if to guide you. Smiling, you followed him through the apartment, your own footsteps muffled by the plush rugs beneath your feet.
The nerves began to creep back as you walked towards Jungkook's room, your heart picking up speed. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but the thought of holding back from him felt even worse. And you also knew that, despite your fear, he deserved all your honesty.
Your footsteps faltered as your ears registered the sound of a soft sniffle coming from Jungkook’s room. The weight in your chest shifted, no longer nerves there but a pang of worry. You stood still for a moment, your fingers brushing the edge of the door frame as you leaned closer to listen.
“Jungkook?” you called out softly, your voice just above a whisper. His name hung in the air, but there was no immediate response, just the faint rustle of fabric and a muffled sound that could have been a shaky exhale.
Pushing the door open further, you stepped inside and were met with a sight that made your heart twist. Jungkook was sitting on the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees, and his head hung low. One hand raked through his dark hair in a way that seemed almost frantic, while the other clutched at his phone. His broad shoulders were hunched, and even in the dim light, you could see the slight tremble in them.
“Kookie,” you said again, your voice firmer this time but still gentle. Bam brushed past your legs, padding over to Jungkook and nudging his knee with his nose. Jungkook glanced up, startled, his wide, watery doe eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before he quickly wiped at his face, as if trying to erase the evidence of his tears.
“Oh, hey, babe,” he mumbled, his voice thick and strained as he forced a small, unconvincing smile. “Didn’t hear you come in.”
You crossed the room in a few quick steps, kneeling in front of him to meet his gaze. “What’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly, your hands instinctively reaching out to rest on his knees. “Why are you crying?”
“It’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head as if to dismiss your concern, but the crack in his voice betrayed him. He looked away, biting down on his bottom lip as his phone slipped from his hand and landed on the bed beside him. “I just… It’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel like this,” you countered gently. Your mind raced through every possible scenario, trying to understand what could have left him like this. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
He nodded but hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. You ran your hands comfortingly through his damp hair, realizing that he must not have gotten out of the shower long ago, since the towel was still on the bed, and he was wearing only sweatpants.
“Did I do something?” you asked, unsure if the tears could have anything to do with what had happened in the kitchen this morning.
Jungkook shook his head immediately, his eyes widening as he met your gaze again. “No, no, baby, it’s not you. It’s not anything you did. I swear.” His words were rushed, almost desperate, as if the thought of you blaming yourself had pulled him out of his emotional haze for a moment. “You could never…”
Relief washed over you, but the worry remained as you watched him struggle to find the words. His warm hands came up to cover yours where they rested on his knees. He gave them a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing against your skin as if grounding himself with your presence.
“Then what is it?” you asked softly, leaning in closer so your faces were only inches apart. “Please, Kook. I hate seeing you like this. Let me help.”
He inhaled deeply, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. For a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint hum of the music playing in the background. It seemed like he might brush it off again, but then he sighed heavily, his gaze finally meeting yours. His brows knitted together, his lips trembled, and fresh tears pooled in his reddened eyes.
“I’m scared,” he whispered.
“Scared of what, baby?” your voice was soft as you massage the back of his hands with your thumbs.
“Of the hiatus,” he admitted quietly. "Of what it can do to the members and me. Of having to do it all alone.”
Your heart sank at his confession. The weight of Jungkook's fears settled heavily in the room, making your own chest tighten. You should’ve known. It should’ve been your first thought, after seeing him struggling with it alone for days, refusing to share it with you; to worry you, just because he was that kind of person—the one who would never bother anyone with his problems.
But just as you had already predicted earlier, now that BTS were going to take a break to focus on their solo projects plus the military service that would start by the end of that year with Seokjin, Jungkook wasn't handling this in a very healthy way. He was sleeping poorly, smoking more, and skipping meals. He thought you didn’t notice, but there was nothing about him you didn’t see, and Jimin made sure to keep you updated on everything when you were apart.
You knew he enjoyed being active, being with the members, and doing what he loved most, giving it his all. You also knew that the idea of not being able to do that for a certain amount of time scared him more than he was willing to admit. Jungkook had a featuring song to be released with Charlie Puth in less than a week, and you knew he was feeling pressured by it. You just wished he had voiced his concerns before it got to this point.
Reaching up, you gently cupped his face, brushing away the tears that slipped down his cheeks with your thumbs.
“Baby,” you murmured, your voice trembling with empathy as you shifted closer. “You don’t have to do it alone. You’re not alone.”
His eyes closed at your touch, his lashes wet with tears. “It feels like I am sometimes,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “The members… we’re all doing our own things, and I know it’s what we need, but it’s hard. I’m used to having them by my side, to leaning on them when it gets too much. Now, it’s just going to be… me.”
“But you have them,” you reminded him gently. “Even if you’re working on your own projects, they’re still your brothers.”
“I know that," he said, his lips trembling a little. “But what if I don't know who I am without them?”
“Then this is the moment you'll find out, love,” you said softly, your hands still cradling his face. “Trust me, this isn’t about losing who you are; it’s about finding new parts of yourself, ones you didn’t even know were there.”
He opened his eyes, his gaze searching yours as if trying to find reassurance in your words. “What if I mess up?” he asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his doubt. “What if I’m not good enough without them?”
“You won’t mess up,” you said with conviction, pressing your forehead gently to his after kissing the tip of his nose. “You’re talented, Jungkook. The most talented person I know. And more than that, you’re hardworking, dedicated, and passionate. Those things don’t disappear just because you’re standing on your own for a while. You’re more than enough, with or without BTS.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond, his eyes fluttering shut again as he took a shaky breath. Then, he nodded, his hands reaching up to grasp your wrists gently, as if he was trying to ground himself again.
“I don’t want to let anyone down. I don’t want to disappoint them, ARMY or you. I don't want these speculations to become true.”
The looming uncertainty of BTS's hiatus had been on everyone’s mind since Tuesday. It was an ongoing topic across the country and the world. Rumors of disbandment flooded social media and the news, but just as the members, you knew they weren’t true. They were still working on group projects, filming content, and recording songs; still together.
The difference was that now they would have the freedom to explore their individuality and show the world who they truly were as artists.
“First of all,” you whispered softly, placing a kiss on his temple. Jungkook had always been hard on himself, striving for perfection in everything he did, but seeing him let the words of strangers chip away at his confidence broke something in you. “You could never disappoint me. And the members, they understand, they know what you’re going through. As for ARMY, they would walk through hell for you. You’re not in this alone. Never.”
He stayed silent again, just breathing, as though taking in your words. You watched as the fear that had been evident in his eyes slowly started to fade, replaced by a mix of gratitude and uncertainty.
Jungkook leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours again, his hands gently cupping yours where they rested on his face. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
“Believe me,” you whispered back, “I’m the lucky one.”
For a few moments, the two of you stayed like that, comforted by each other’s presence, the weight of his worries slowly lifting, if only for a moment. In that quiet space, with his hand in yours and his heart open before you, everything felt a little more manageable. So manageable that for at least that moment, you forgot what you came to do here tonight.
But Jungkook made sure to bring you back to reality not long after.
“Now let’s forget about me,” he said, his voice sounding a little bit more upbeat now. “What about you doll? Have any big news to share with me?”
You chuckled softly, tilting your head to the side for a moment, to look at him carefully. “Are you sure you're okay, tough? If you want to keep talking, we can leave this for later.”
Was it selfish of you to want to avoid the subject? Maybe.
But really, you just wanted to make sure he was going to be okay, that all these treacherous thoughts would leave his mind and never return again, even though you knew this was like an impossible mission at the time.
Jungkook sighed, rubbing his face with his tattooed hand. “I’ll be okay. Just... a lot on my mind.” He looked at you, his eyes soft but weary. “I don't want to drag you into this. But thank you for asking.”
You bit your lip, not wanting to push him further, but unable to ignore the weight in his words.
“Baby, I always want to be dragged into whatever is happening in there,” you murmured, using your index finger to point to his head. “It's my job to try to ease your bad thoughts.”
He smiled faintly, appreciating your offer, but you could tell he wasn’t ready to dive deeper into the conversation. Instead, he shrugged and said, “We’ll figure it out later. But for now, I just want to hear how your meeting went.”
The silence stretched between you two for a moment. You gave him a small, understanding nod, your hand resting lightly on the edge of the table between you. You didn’t press any further, trusting that when he was ready, he would find the words.
“Okay, but you know where to find me,” you said quietly, your voice steady and calm, offering him the space he needed.
Jungkook looked at you then, and for a moment, the storm in his eyes seemed to settle. “I know,” he said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now tell me, please. I’m dying here.”
Looking back now, you knew that moment should’ve been the moment you told him everything. You should have used the confidence you had earlier to stop running from the truth you had kept hidden so far.
But when your gaze met his beautiful doe eyes again, still red and puffy from crying, you also knew you couldn’t bear to do that to him. You couldn’t be the one to introduce more doubts and uncertainties into his life. Hell, there was nothing in the world you wouldn’t do to never see him cry like that ever again.
So you changed course, deciding that leaving the topic of Kim Mingyu and Japanese nights for another time was the best choice. To protect that small glimmer of peace you saw returning to him.
“They offered me a position as lead stylist for one of their major groups,” you said, trying to force the best smile you could. At the same time you were happy about the biggest opportunity of your career, your heart broke from having to hide things from Jungkook.
Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, his lips parting in surprise before a smile broke through the lingering haze of sadness. The shift in his expression was instantaneous, his tears momentarily forgotten as excitement replaced the storm cloud in his gaze. He got up from the bed immediately taking you with him.
“Babe, that’s amazing!” he exclaimed, his voice carrying a newfound energy as he wrapped you in a hug and spun you around in the air. “I told you! You’re so talented, of course they’d want you!”
The genuine enthusiasm in his voice was enough to both warm your heart and deepen the ache of your guilt.
You nodded, unable to stop yourself from smiling at his words, even though a knot twisted in your throat. “Thank you,” you said softly. “I’m really excited. I’ve been dreaming of something like this for years.”
After years of working with big artists and accomplishing great things in this industry, things that had never been properly rewarded or given credit, you knew you deserved something like this. It was more than just a dream come true; it was the result of all your hard work. Every late night spent hemming clothes in cramped apartments, every early morning dragging garment bags through crowded subways, every tear shed over designs rejected without a second glance—it had all led to this moment.
“You’re amazing,” Jungkook said, pulling away slightly to look at you with admiration in his eyes. “Babe, I’m so proud of you.”
You returned the smile, though it was a little strained. “Thank you, Kookie,” you said again.
You desperately wanted to take solace in his unwavering faith in you. And perhaps, just perhaps, gather the courage to tell him everything soon. For now, though, you stayed silent, allowing his love and support to envelop you, even as the weight of your secret pressed heavily on your heart.
“Did they tell you which group it was?” he asked, pulling you to sit on his lap as he sat on the bed again.
You nodded, trying to avoid his gaze but afraid of raising suspicion. “It's Seventeen.”
You watched as a smile spread across Jungkook's face, his entire expression lighting up with joy at your news. You had expected this reaction, his excitement was inevitable. You knew he’d be thrilled not only by the idea of you being nearby again, but also working directly with his friends.
The problem, however, was that this was the one part that made you hesitant. It wasn’t that the rest of the members were at fault for your situation; you were certain they were incredible guys. Based on everything Jungkook had shared with you and what you’d read about them, you knew they would embrace you warmly and make you feel valued in your work.
Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of butterflies in your stomach—the bad kind. It was a sensation that went far beyond the typical nerves of starting a new job. It felt like a premonition.
“It just keeps getting better,” Jungkook spoke in an excited tone, just as you imagined he would be. “That way I can ask Mingyu to take care of you.”
Your heart clenched at Jungkook's words, even as you tried to maintain your composure. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on you, and the mention of Mingyu’s name only deepened the knot in your stomach. You forced a smile, nodding slightly as you leaned into his chest, hoping the motion would shield your conflicted expression.
“That’s sweet of you,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone light as you rested your head on his shoulder. “But I think I’ll be fine. It’s a professional environment, after all.”
Jungkook chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring as he stroked your back. “I know you will. You’re amazing at what you do. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone looking out for you, right?”
You swallowed hard. What reasons would you have to say no? “Right,” you echoed, though the word felt hollow on your tongue.
The truth you had promised yourself to share with him earlier that evening now felt impossibly distant. Jungkook's excitement and trust in you only made it harder to picture disrupting this moment with the weight of your past. Yet, even as you held on to the comfort of his embrace, a quiet voice in the back of your mind reminded you that the longer you waited, the harder it would be to face the truth.
You squeezed your eyes shut, desperately trying to drown out the voices swirling in your mind, letting yourself get lost in the warmth of your boyfriend's arms, stealing just a little more time before you faced the storm.
“This is huge for you. We need to celebrate.”
Jungkook's enthusiasm was infectious, so you allowed yourself to be swept up in it. His smile was wide, bunny teeth on full display now, and his arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wanted to let go. Deep inside, you wished he wouldn't.
“Celebrate?” you repeated, opening your eyes and arching a brow, unable to keep the smile off your face. “What did you have in mind, Jeon Jungkook?”
He hummed, the corners of his lips quirking up mischievously. “A fancy dinner? Or... I could cook for you. Something special. Your favorite, maybe?”
“That sounds perfect,” you said softly, your heart swelling at the thoughtfulness in his voice. You didn't want a fancy dinner or anything else. You just wanted to enjoy the rest of the night with him and Bam; to stay right here in his embrace.
Jungkook’s eyes lit up at your response, and his lips curved into the kind of grin that made your chest warm in the best way. “Then it’s settled,” he declared, leaning back slightly to look at you more closely. “Let’s open a bottle of wine too. You deserve it. This is your moment, babe.”
“Alright,” you said, your smile soft but genuine. “I want to help.”
Jungkook groaned dramatically, shaking his head. “No way. You’re the guest of honor tonight. Your job is to sit back, relax, and enjoy.”
“Guest of honor?” you teased, tilting your head. “I live here half the time.”
“Exactly,” he said, leaning closer until your foreheads nearly touched. “Half the time. Which means tonight, you get to be spoiled.”
You laughed, unable to stop yourself from leaning into him. “Fine,” you conceded. “But I’ll set the table.”
“Deal,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a soft, affectionate tone. For a moment, the weight of your secret felt just a little lighter, his unwavering love wrapping around you like a shield against the storm you knew was coming soon.
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If you were being honest, you had expected the night to end like this. Not with warmth and laughter, but with words sharp enough to leave invisible cuts. You hadn't anticipated, however, that it would be for entirely different reasons from those you thought. Or maybe, deep down, you had known. You should’ve known, at least, that this subject had probably been taking up residence in his mind throughout the day.
It had started so innocently. You had an amazing dinner with Jungkook, sharing Japchae and a bottle of wine. You’d explained your work with Seventeen, detailing the complexities of managing their schedules, moods, and preferences, all while ensuring their cohesive look as a group. He’d listened attentively, supportive as always, even suggesting he could travel with you when his own schedule allowed.
“Wouldn’t it be cool if I could join you and Mingyu for part of the tour?” he had said, his excitement genuine.
The night seemed perfect and as it came to a close, you insisted on helping him at least put the dishes back in the cupboard. But Jungkook refused, gently telling you to go get ready for bed while he took care of all the cleaning himself. Feeling the drowsiness from the wine setting in, you didn’t put up much of a fight and headed off to unwind.
You were calmly brushing your teeth when Jungkook entered the bathroom, quietly sitting on the toilet lid, after putting Bam in his room to sleep. Through the mirror, you saw his eyes heavy with sleep and the lingering effects of the wine on his face.
“You didn’t have your phone with you today?” he asked after a moment, tilting his head to the side as he looked at you through half-closed eyes.
You paused mid-brush, the question catching you off guard. “I did,” you replied after a pause, spitting out the toothpaste. “But it ran out of battery at some point during the day, and I didn’t see it until I got here.”
Jungkook didn’t respond immediately. He simply watched you, his expression unreadable. “Where did you go after the meeting?”
You frowned, sensing something off in his tone. You hadn’t expected him to ask about your day in such detail, especially considering how understanding he’d been about your busy schedule. You could tell there was something in his tone that made it feel less like casual curiosity and more like... concern, maybe even unease.
You quickly finished brushing your teeth and rinsed your mouth, turning to face him, your hand still holding the toothbrush in a vague gesture of distraction.
“I went for a meal with Dahee,” you said slowly, testing the waters. “We haven’t seen each other in ages, and it was nice to catch up.”
His jaw tightened slightly and Jungkook sat there, watching you with a contemplative expression, his gaze flicking to the toothbrush you were setting down on the counter. “And how did you arrange that?”
“Through my phone…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling defensive.
“Right,” he muttered, nodding almost imperceptibly. “So your phone died, but you managed to message Dahee before that?” His voice was calm, but the underlying tension was unmistakable.
You paused, trying to gauge his mood. Jungkook was always the type to give you space if you needed and he had never been insecure about your relationship, nor had he shown any distrust towards you at any time during the past six months. But there was an intensity in his eyes now that made you wonder if something was bothering him, if he would have talked to someone who was possibly much braver than you when it came to telling the truth to his face.
“Jungkook,” you said, turning to face him fully after drying your hands on the towel and placing your toothbrush beside his. “What’s going on? Are you upset I went out with my best friend?”
“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I just…” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “You couldn’t text or call me back? Not even once?”
His words hung in the air like a challenge, and suddenly the warmth of the evening felt suffocating. “I’ve been busy,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “I told you today would be packed.”
“And you couldn’t spare five seconds to let me know you were okay?” His voice was rising now, the hurt unmistakable.
You blinked, his words landing heavier than you expected. Jungkook’s tone wasn’t angry, but it was raw, tinged with something that felt like hurt. His wide eyes searched for yours, the vulnerability in them throwing you off balance.
“I—” you started, only to falter. Maybe you deserved it after ignoring his multiple missed calls. “Kook, my phone was dead. I didn’t even think about it because it was such a last-minute thing with Dahee. I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”
He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands for a moment. When he looked back up, his expression was softer, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “I know you weren’t ignoring me. It's just... when you didn’t have your phone with you, and I couldn’t reach you... I started to wonder if you were avoiding me after this morning.”
And there it was.
“Jungkook…”
“I don't want to scare you off with the idea of moving in; I just thought that—”
He broke off, running a hand through his hair. The vulnerability etched across his face made your heart ache. You knew, from the moment you had walked out of the kitchen this morning, stating you needed to think about it, that this matter would linger unresolved in his mind. You had felt it would create a tension that would only grow if you didn’t address it according to his timing.
“You just thought what?” you prompted gently, your voice soft but insistent.
“That it might bring us closer,” he finally said, looking up at you. “That would show you how serious I am about us. About you.”
The warmth of his words seeped into your chest, the tenderness behind them making your heart flutter. But just as quickly, doubt crept in.
You swallowed hard, your thoughts swirling. You told yourself Jungkook wasn’t trying to guilt-trip you about this—at least, that’s what you kept repeating, hating yourself for even entertaining the idea. Still, the unease lingered inside, as if your freedom to think it over was somehow a source of discomfort for him.
You couldn’t help but study his face, your eyes scanning every feature, searching for even the slightest hint of uncertainty about this. There was none—his expression was steady, resolute. Unlike your own mind, which was spiraling, racing through every possible reason for your hesitation.
“I meant it,” he stated, eyes searching for something in yours. “I don’t want you to be anywhere else but here with me. I love having you around. And honestly, it feels like the right time."
You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling heavily, before opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. Entering the bedroom felt like seeking refuge, as if the space could somehow ease the tightness in your chest and help you breathe better. His words echoed in your mind, their gravity sinking in as you started pacing around his bedroom, your movements restless.
Your thoughts raced wildly—this wasn’t just a step; it was a leap, one that would change everything. The idea was both thrilling and utterly terrifying.
And you wanted it. Didn’t you?
Jungkook was everything you’d ever dreamed of—kind, stable, and endlessly patient with every quirk and flaw you carried. You loved him, deeply and fiercely. Yet, the thought of merging your lives so intimately made your heart race for reasons that weren’t entirely joyful.
The events of the past week and this afternoon loomed in your mind, a dark shadow cast over the light you’d found with him, lingering just enough to make you question if now was the right time.
Jungkook came out of the bathroom and was now standing near the closet door, watching you silently as you paced around, his dark eyes tracking your every move with a mix of curiosity and patience. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but more calm than before. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing for an answer—just waiting, giving you the space to process what he’d said.
“I… I don’t know,” you began, biting your lip. “It’s a big step, don’t you think?”
He nodded, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “I know,” he replied gently. “It’s a huge step, but I’m ready for it, and I want to take it with you.”
You took another deep breath, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the walls closing in around you. Jungkook’s expression faltered, confusion flashing across his features as he watched you.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you said finally, your words carefully chosen. “I just… I feel like maybe it’s too soon?”
He studied you with a frown. “Too soon? Y/N, it’s been six months. I love you. I want to build a life with you.”
“I know,” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly. “And I love you too. But…” you trailed off, unable to put into words your emotions.
“But what?”
Oh, I don't know, I'm kind of keeping a secret from you that I slept with your best friend four years ago and we pretended we didn't know each other to your face, and I don't know how to deal with that. Do you still want me to move in?
The absurdity of saying it aloud hit you like a cold wave, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn't just the words themselves, it was the potential devastation they carried, the way they could shatter everything you and Jungkook had carefully built together so far. Not that this situation was making things much better, you thought.
You shook your head as if trying to physically dislodge the thought. This wasn’t the time, not now. Maybe not ever. But the weight of the unspoken truth lingered above your head, pressing down on you even as you stood frozen in the middle of the bedroom.
This wasn’t about doubting your feelings for him. You loved Jungkook more than words could express. He had shown you time and again that he was there for you, steady and unwavering, no matter what. But taking this step—making this commitment—wasn’t just about love. It was about letting go of the fears that whispered what-ifs in the quiet corners of your mind.
And mostly, letting go of the past. What you weren't sure you were ready to do anymore.
You had been so sure of yourself just hours ago. Why doubt clawed at your chest now?
Finally, you stopped pacing and turned to face him, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if for comfort. You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “But what about everything else? My work, your schedule? It’s a lot to juggle.”
He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “We’ll figure it out. I just want to be with you, come home to you. I think it could be amazing. Just think about it, babe, no more running back and forth, no more late-night drives. It’s closer to work, and you’d waste less time in traffic.”
“What about my apartment?” you asked, but deep down it was clear you were just looking for reasons to stand your ground.
His response was immediate, as if he’d already thought of it. “You can turn it into your studio. I can help you with that.”
“You’ve thought of all this.” It wasn’t a question, though it sounded like one.
“I have,” he admitted, his tone soft but certain. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while.”
What the hell was wrong with you? Why didn’t you want to live with this perfect man standing in front of you, offering everything you’d ever wanted?
You chewed your lip again, hesitating before you spoke again. “I just think we should wait a little longer.”
Jungkook sighed, and the playful lightness from earlier vanished. “Y/N, if this is about me leaning on you too much, then say so. I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“No, it’s not that,” you replied quickly, though doubts began to creep in.
“Then what is it?” he asked, his tone tinged with hurt.
You opened your mouth to explain but faltered. How could you share that the memory of Mingyu’s piercing gaze and your unresolved history loomed in your mind? That, despite your love for Jungkook, moving in together felt like a complicated risk right now?
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I do. It’s just…” You sighed, shaking your head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re acting like I should drop everything and just say yes!”
His expression darkened, confusion morphing into irritation. “I thought we were building a future together, and now it feels like you’re pulling away!”
“It’s too soon!” you shouted back, the admission tumbling out before you could stop it.
Jungkook blinked, his expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. “Too soon? Y/N, we’ve been together for six months. I love you. I want to build a life with you. How is that too soon?”
“I don’t know!” you cried, running a hand through your hair again. “I just… I need more time, okay?”
“More time for what?” His voice cracked, the vulnerability in his eyes making your stomach churn. “To figure out if you even want this? If you even want me?”
“Don’t do that,” you said sharply, your hands trembling. “Don’t twist this into me not loving you, because you know that’s not true.”
“Then what is it?” he demanded, stepping closer. “Because right now, it feels like you’re running away.”
“I’m not running away!” you yelled, your voice echoing in the bedroom. “I’m just… I’m trying to figure things out. My work, your schedule—there’s so much to juggle.”
“I told you: we can figure it out together,” he said, his tone softening for a moment. “But I can’t keep doing this, Y/N. I need to know you’re all in.”
Your throat tightened, tears stinging your eyes. “I am all in,” you whispered, though now even you weren’t sure if it was entirely true.
“Then prove it,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Because right now, it doesn’t feel like you are.”
The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words crushing you. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came. How could you explain the doubts that clawed at you? How could you explain to him that you were scared to death that your past would come back to destroy what you had built together without telling him who your past was?
Silence lingered between you, heavy and suffocating. Your shoulders slumped as you sat on the edge of the bed trying to control your legs that you hadn't realized were shaking. “I’m too tired for this right now, Jungkook. Can we please talk tomorrow?”
He stood there for a moment, staring at you with a mixture of hurt and anger before shaking his head. “Fine.”
Jungkook grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and headed for the couch, the soft sound of his footsteps retreating down the hall. You stood there, your reflection staring back at you in the mirror wall, tears streaming down your face for the first time this week.
The night had ended exactly as you’d expected. Just not for the reasons you’d hoped.
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You’d officially step into your new role as Seventeen’s lead stylist three days later, after submitting your resignation letter to Elle Magazine. The transition from one job to the other had been anything but smooth, even though HYBE had done their part to ease the process. You were grateful for their professionalism and for agreeing to handle any complications with your former employer, even providing a temporary replacement until a permanent hire could fill your position, showing how much they wanted you to work with them.
They wanted you to start immediately, which meant you’d already spent the last three days coordinating the group’s wardrobe remotely, finalizing adjustments, sending approvals through a dizzying chain of emails, and constantly contacting their former stylist, named Mitsuri Miyawaki, known as Stormi.
Three whole days of nonstop emails, virtual meetings, and late-night alterations that had blurred together, confined to your apartment-turned-studio, sewing and sketching, and though you were now more excited about the chance to leave an even greater mark in the fashion and entertainment industry, your whole body bears witness to your tiredness.
All of this, however, meant that you hadn’t spoken or seen Jungkook in three whole days. The next morning, when you woke up, he had already left for work, and you couldn’t wait for him to come back, since doing so would’ve made you late. The only messages exchanged between the two of you over the past three days had been about Bam, aside from the one you sent this morning: a simple "Fighting ❤️," knowing today would be the release of Left and Right.
You wished things were different right now, but there wasn’t much you could do to improve the situation, especially since your answer to what he wanted so desperately remained unchanged.
As always, for the past three days you have been using your coping mechanism: focusing on work to forget your problems.
And Stormi had been a lifeline in your chaos. To your surprise, she was now TXT’s new stylist and, apparently, also Vernon’s girlfriend. That particular tidbit had been casually dropped into one of your conversations catching you off guard, but making you have an immense empathy for her immediately, since you were practically in the same boat.
She was extremely kind and attentive to your questions, and within just a few days, the two of you had already spoken more than you had with anyone else this week, constantly staying in touch through countless messages, video and phone calls. Her guidance was invaluable, but it was clear she was more than ready to hand over the reins.
For your first day, she had offered to show you around the building and take you to the cafeteria for an iced americano, mentioning it was one of the largest and most varied she had ever seen, which, of course, you couldn’t deny.
“Have you met Choi Arin sunbaenim, yet? The supervisor?” Mitsuri asked you, when you two entered the cafeteria.
You shook your head, scanning the spacious cafeteria with curiosity as you joined the line to place your orders. You immediately recognized some familiar artists scattered at tables, chatting and eating animatedly, along with various members of the staff team.
“Not yet,” you admitted, glancing at Mitsuri as you queued up to place your orders. “We've only communicated through email. She mentioned she'd stop by my studio before introducing me to the members.”
One of the things you had discovered was that here, the team of stylists of each group had their own separate space to work, even though the general HYBE wardrobe room was available to anyone who needed it. And since you were in charge of guiding Seventeen’s stylist team, you also had a private studio for yourself, which you had appreciated very much.
“She's a cow,” Mitsuri said, without beating around the bush. “She’s been on my case since day one. Honestly, it’s a miracle I wasn’t fired when she found out about my relationship with Hansol.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “She’s the one who discovered it?”
“Unfortunately.” Mitsuri rolled her eyes dramatically.
“I'm guessing she didn't approve?” You let out a genuine chuckle at the expression on her face.
“That’s putting it lightly,” Mitsuri snorted, grabbing a tray for her order. “She’s a stickler for rules, and she doesn’t care much for personal connections interfering with work. Can’t say I blame her entirely, things can get messy if you’re not careful, but still, it’s exhausting.”
“She must’ve been intense,” you said, cringing at the thought of a stern supervisor breathing down your neck.
“Oh, absolutely,” Mitsuri said, chuckling softly. “To be fair, HYBE has some pretty strict policies about that sort of thing. But you know how it is—long hours, close quarters. Things happen.” She shrugged. “That's why I was relocated.”
The mention of personal connections and professionalism hit a little too close to home, given the delicate balance you were already trying to maintain between your personal and professional life. The last thing you needed was for someone like Arin to scrutinize your every move.
Mitsuri seemed to sense your unease, her expression softening.
“Don’t let her intimidate you, though,” she continued, her tone lightening as you moved down the line. “You’re ridiculously talented. They wouldn’t have hired you if they didn’t think you could handle it.”
Her words brought a small smile to your lips. “Thanks, Stormi. That means a lot.”
She shrugged with a grin. “Just speaking the truth. Besides, you’re gonna kill it here. I’ve seen your work and it’s amazing. The guys are lucky to have you.”
The line moved forward, and you placed your order, grateful for the brief reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind as always. While Mitsuri grabbed a piece of iced lemon loaf cake to enjoy right away, you decided your stomach couldn’t handle much more than an espresso to keep you awake. Still, you couldn’t resist grabbing a chocolate chip cookie for later because it looked too good to pass up.
“Okay, but enough about Arin,” Mitsuri said, offering you a reassuring smile. “You’re going to love working with Seventeen. They’re a handful, sure, but they’re good guys. They make all the stress worth it. And if you ever need a break or a rant session, just call me. I’ll sneak you out for coffee, or a drink if it’s really bad.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, her easy going demeanor putting you at ease despite the lingering nerves. “I might take you up on that.”
As the barista handed over your orders, Mitsuri raised an eyebrow, her smile never fading. “You already know some of them, right?”
The two of you weaved through the maze of tables, heading toward one near the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight streamed in, highlighting the bustling cafeteria as you settled into your seats, the view of the city below serving as a stunning backdrop.
“Yeah,” you said, nodding as you took a sip of your coffee. “Seokmin, Minghao and... Mingyu. They are friends with Jungkook. I don’t know them much more than that.”
You knew that starting a friendship by lying wasn’t the best approach. But what could you do? She was still a stranger—albeit a dear one, but a stranger nonetheless. It wasn’t like you could just spill personal details about your life, especially when it came to your past. The NDA was still in effect, after all.
After your answer, Mitsuri proceeded to give you a complete dossier on each of the members, describing them with an excited smile and evident affection. It was clear that she had loved working with them, and it probably hadn’t been easy to be reassigned to another group. Still, she seemed to like TXT just as much, mentioning that they were great, though less chaotic than Seventeen.
Despite the nervousness, you found yourself laughing, already imagining what kind of dynamic they must have within the group. It sounded like Seventeen was a vibrant mix of personalities, each one offering something unique to the group, and you’d soon be a part of that energy.
“Jeonghan looks like an angel, he’s even nicknamed Angel, but trust me, there’s nothing angelic about him. Not in a bad way, though,” Mitsuri added with a grin. “I say this with great affection. His language of love is disturbance. He’s a great listener also.”
“Disturbance as a love language, huh?” you chuckled, taking another sip of your coffee. “Sounds... intriguing.”
“Oh, it is,” Mitsuri replied, her grin widening. “But you'll love him. Jeonghan has this way of making everyone feel at ease, like he’s scheming something, but in a way that makes you curious rather than nervous. He’s got that kind of charm.”
You couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm contagious. It was clear she held a deep affection for the group, which eased some of your anxieties about stepping into your new role. If they were anything like Mitsuri described, you had a feeling this job, though challenging, might also be a lot of fun.
As the conversation continued, Mitsuri moved on to talk about Joshua, the group's resident gentleman, and his impeccable manners that somehow made his occasional mischievous moments more surprising. Then there was Seungkwan, who, according to Mitsuri, was a whirlwind of energy and emotion, a living embodiment of both comedy and heartfelt sincerity.
“Don’t even get me started on him,” Mitsuri said, shaking her head fondly. “Seungkwan’s like a serotonin boost in human form. But be prepared, he’ll probably want your opinion on everything, from wardrobe choices to which snacks should be stocked in this bedroom.”
You laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind. He sounds like he’d be hard to say no to.”
“Oh, he is,” she confirmed with a mock-serious nod. “And then there’s Mingyu…” Mitsuri’s tone shifted slightly, a hint of something playful but cautious creeping into her voice. “You’ve already met him, right?”
“Briefly,’ you said, keeping your tone neutral. “We were introduced through Jungkook a while back.”
Mitsuri hummed thoughtfully. “Well, Mingyu is... Mingyu,” she said finally, her words laced with amusement. “He’s an absolute sweetheart. Tall, a bit clumsy, but honestly one of the kindest people you’ll ever meet. Not to mention, he’s ridiculously good-looking.” She smirked. “He’s got this... aura about him. Basically the human equivalent of a golden retriever. But don’t let that fool you. He’s a flirt, and he knows it.”
A shiver ran down your spine. Oh, you knew it too.
You wanted to smile at the fact that, despite everything, Mingyu was still the same, but you held yourself back. Every detail Mitsuri described knocked on the door to the basement of your heart, bringing back a faint sense of familiarity you hadn’t realized was still lingering there. It felt like looking at a photo of someone you used to know.
You just nodded, filing away the information.
“He’s a perfectionist, though, so don’t be surprised if he’s the one asking for adjustments on his outfits the most.”
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Trust me,” Mitsuri said, leaning back in her chair. “You’re about to experience the Mingyu Effect firsthand. And once you do, there’s no going back.”
You knew she was right. You had lived through it, you were more than familiar with it.
Mitsuri had moved on to the next member, and you were lifting your coffee to your lips, laughing at her description of Hoshi, when your attention shifted to the counter. You analyzed a group of four guys who had just entered the cafeteria, causing several heads to turn in their direction.
They all had their backs turned to you and Mitsuri. The first one had black hair, and despite his small stature, his physique was strong and well-proportioned. The second one wasn’t much taller, with a lean, toned physique and brownish hair. The guy who came right after him had light brown hair as well, but his muscular, athletic build—with broad shoulders and strong arms—made him clearly the second tallest of the group.
The last one of the group was much taller than the rest, with a long, muscular torso that clearly drew attention wherever he went, including from the group of girls sitting just a few inches away from him. His black hair was a little messy, falling over his ears and you could see the muscles on his back through the fabric of the white shirt he was wearing.
From that angle, he looked like thousands of other ordinary men in Seoul, but you knew exactly who he was.
It was as if he had been summoned.
Unable to look away, you were paralyzed, waiting for the moment when he would turn around and spot you, right in his line of sight, after nearly two weeks since you told him you would think about it and had remained completely radio silent.
“Y/N?" Mitsuri calls out to you, following the direction of your gaze. You hold your breath for a moment, relieved when a group of staff members stepped into her line of sight. "Is everything okay?”
You blink, stunned. This couldn't be happening. “Uh... Yeah. I... I just…” You trail off, searching for the right words, but your mind feels foggy as you try to focus on anything else but the man standing across the room.
You looked back at the counter and saw his eyes locked on you, his face completely incredulous, as if he was feeling the same way you were about him: like the sight of you there was some sort of figment of his imagination. He blinked a few times and you swallowed hard.
The moment you saw his feet moving, instinct takes over your body, and a surge of self-preservation propels you out of your chair.
“I'm sorry, Storm,” you said, glancing at her. “I have to go.”
She looks puzzled by your sudden behavior but simply says, “Oh, it's okay.”
“I just remembered I need to make some adjustments, and…” Your eyes dart up, catching sight of him coming closer. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for everything.”
You grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and rushes between the tables, darting out of the cafeteria at a speed you didn’t know was humanly possible. Without daring to look back, you hurry toward the elevator's hallway, your heart racing, unsure if he’s following you or not.
The elevator doors seem to take an eternity to open as you anxiously tap all them, stealing quick glances over your shoulder. Each second feels like a lifetime, your heart pounding in your ears, drowning out the hum of the bustling building.
You silently beg for the elevator to arrive, gripping the strap of your bag so tightly your knuckles ache. Just as the sign shows it’s on the 9th floor, you catch sight of him stepping into the hallway, his tall figure unmistakable even from a distance.
“Y/N.”
The sound of his voice calling out your name freezes you in place, sending another chill down your spine again. You feel the weight of his gaze even before you turn to meet it, and you swallow hard again, hand hovering over the elevator button as you consider your options. Run, face him, pretend you didn’t hear him—none of them feel like the right answer.
You glance over your shoulder, trying to appear composed, though every nerve in your body is screaming to run. Mingyu is just a few feet away now, his expression a mix of disbelief and something you can’t quite place. Relief? Confusion? Frustration? Maybe all three.
“Y/N,” he calls once more, and this time, you can hear the unmistakable urgency in his voice. The gentle way he says your name tugs at something inside you, making it even harder to stand your ground.
The elevator dings, its doors sliding open, offering an escape route. You hesitate, torn between stepping inside and hearing what he has to say. Suddenly, your feet seem to have forgotten their purpose right at the moment that you wanted to shield yourself from the storm brewing between you and the man standing behind you.
“Y/N. Seriously?” he says softly, his tone carrying a thousand unspoken meanings.
You exhale sharply, your resolve crumbling at the vulnerability in his tone. Slowly, you turn to face him, your bag still clutched tightly against your side. His dark eyes lock onto yours, searching for something, though you’re not sure what.
“Please,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Just give me a minute.”
“Hi," you finally manage to say. You’re trying to figure out what to say, but your head is filled with a jumble of meaningless words. Hi? Really? Who, in their right mind, says something as dumb as 'Hi' at a time like this?
"Are you...?" he begins, his voice breathless. "Why are you avoiding me?"
You blink, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you're paralyzed, unable to respond. It feels as though time slows, the noise of the building fading into the background as his voice echoes in your mind.
It wasn’t exactly your intention to avoid him, but lately, it seemed like that was your only response to everything being thrown your way.
You open your mouth, but the words don’t come out right away. “I’m not... I wasn’t…” You trail off, unsure of how to even begin explaining. “I didn't mean to,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. You take a step back, trying to create some space between you two, but his gaze doesn’t waver.
“You didn’t mean to what?” His voice is softer now, tinged with something that sounds like frustration, but also concern.
You glance down, feeling the weight of everything you’ve been trying to avoid coming back to you all at once. You want to tell him everything—the reasons you’ve kept your distance, the mess of emotions tangled up in your heart—but it’s too much to say all at once. It’s too raw, too complicated. You need to be mentally and emotionally prepared for a conversation like this.
He stared at you for a beat longer, his brows furrowing as if he were trying to read you. It felt like he was slowly beginning to grasp the weight of the situation, the realization dawning on him bit by bit. “It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah,” you replied, your throat tight. The tension between you felt palpable, like you were both standing on the edge of something you weren’t ready to face yet. “It has.”
His voice was laced with something that sounded almost… regretful as he said, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again after...”
You blinked, taken aback by the rawness in his tone. “Yeah. Neither did I.”
But your confusion only deepened with every word he said. He was the one who left. He was the one who disappeared without a trace after that last day. He was the one who had shoved that NDA down your throat. And yet, here he was, looking at you like he hadn’t wanted that.
You couldn’t make sense of it.
The air between you felt thick, suffocating you in this huge hallway. You looked away, trying to steady your breath, trying to keep control. But his presence was overwhelming, stirring things inside you that you didn't even know how to explain without seeming like you were still madly in love with him.
Because you weren't.
You were hopelessly in love with Jungkook and only him.
“Mingyu,” you said, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat as you speak his name out loud for the first time. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
He leaned down, his face leveling with yours.
“Are you kidding me?” His eyes were wild, full of disbelief. He took a step forward while you took one back, your back hitting the metal of the elevator doors. “You think I’m just going to bump into you again, say ‘Hey, Y/N, what’s up?’ and let you walk away again? Just like that? No more words, no more talking for another four fucking years? Have you even thought about talking at all?”
Your breath catches at his words, and for a moment, everything feels like it’s collapsing in on you. You wanted to make sense of what he meant by emphasizing the word again. But at the same time, you were afraid that knowing might make things inside you worse. His intensity, the raw emotion in his voice, it’s all so much harder to face than you ever expected.
“I'm not ready for this conversation yet,” you admit quietly, looking away from him to stare at your own shoes.
“You need to be ready to talk to me?”
“If there’s anyone I need to be ready for, it’s you,” you admitted, your voice almost low enough that he wouldn't hear. But he did. You saw it in the way his entire face seemed to contort in pain, exactly like the pain twisting in your own chest.
“I just need…” he begins, searching for your gaze. “How are you? How long have you been back?”
“I’m fine,” you answered mechanically. “I got back in August.”
For the last four years, you've been angry, convincing yourself you were above it all, but just one single look at his face was enough to make you understand that you weren't.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Somehow, you're holding it together, barely managing to keep your composure, but you knew that if you stayed even a second longer, you wouldn't be able to keep it up. The way Mingyu's face seems to mirror the confusion that's going on in your head, combined with only two hours of sleep and no clue when this day would end, is too much for you to handle right now. You need to get out before everything unravels.
“I have to go,” you say, your voice suddenly desperate. “Okay?”
Before he could respond, you turned and walked away, heading straight for the first elevator with its doors wide open. You’re aware he could’ve caught up to you in a few quick steps, his long legs easily closing the distance, but he doesn’t. And as the elevator jolts downward to the 15th floor, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he's still there, just behind you.
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When Choi Arin finally arrived at your studio, around three in the afternoon, your nerves had completely calmed, though a throbbing pain in your head prevented you from thinking clearly enough to continue sewing the gold studs onto the leather of the black jacket that would soon belong to Wonwoo.
To your surprise, she didn’t say much, simply asking you to follow her—and so you did. Now, the two of you were trapped in the elevator, traveling from the 15th floor to the 6th in almost complete silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the metal.
You glanced at her from the corner of your eye, but she remained unchanged: her gaze was focused on the metal doors, her posture erect, hands clasped behind her back.
Her demeanor almost made her seem like a strict high school principal, but she was much younger than you had anticipated. If it weren’t for the badge hanging from her neck, clearly marking her position within the company, you might have easily mistaken her for one of the company’s female artists, especially considering her striking beauty.
“How has your first day been so far?” she finally asked, turning her body slightly to look at you. Her eyes are piercingly intimidating, yet her voice remained calm and gentle, echoing through the elevator.
You felt the weight of her gaze, the intensity of her presence making it hard to keep your composure. It's as if she’s already assessing you, measuring you in ways you aren't prepared for. You straighten your posture, trying to mask the nerves bubbling up inside of you.
“It’s been... busy,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light, though her intense gaze still made you feel on edge all over again. “I’ve been mostly settling in and getting familiar with the team. There’s a lot to process, but it’s all exciting.”
Arin nodded thoughtfully, her expression unreadable as she listened. “I’m glad to hear that. Transitioning into a new role, especially one like this, is never easy.” Her gaze briefly flicked down to your sketchbook, which you clutched in your hands. “I’ve heard you worked with Bangtan Sonyeondan before.”
You nodded, feeling a hint of pride. “Yeah, I worked with them for a while.”
At that moment, you assumed she would start a conversation about your past work experience, as most people in this field flipped out with excitement when they learned you were responsible for securing Dua Lipa a million-dollar contract with Versace or how you had styled BTS for the VOGUE X GQ Korea 2022 January issue and the Grammy’s.
But you couldn't be more wrong.
The way she clicked her tongue and pressed the button to stop the elevator on the eighth floor made her intentions very clear, exactly as Stormi had predicted: she wanted to intimidate you.
“This isn’t like the last time you worked here, so I would like to clear a few things up.”
Arin’s voice remained calm, but there was an edge to it now, one that made the air between you feel thick. She stood straight, her posture unwavering, as if she were delivering a warning she expected you to understand without questioning.
“First of all,” she began. “I don’t like you and that’s not going to change. If it was it for me, you wouldn't have been hired. I know your history and I don't approve of it. I’m the supervisor here, which means you answer to me. I don’t care that you have experience in this field or that your boyfriend is famous. I’m the one in charge here.”
The weight of Arin’s words hitted you like a physical blow, each one cutting deeper than the last, the abrupt shift in tone catching you off guard. You tried to keep your face neutral, but it was hard when everything inside you screamed to respond. You had worked for years to earn your place in this industry, to get to a position where you could walk into any room with confidence. But here, in front of Arin, that confidence felt like it was slowly slipping away.
“I don’t care how many people you’ve worked with, how many magazines you’ve graced, or how many contracts you’ve secured. None of that matters here. This is a different ball game, and the rules are mine. You follow them, or you’re out.”
You could feel your pulse quicken, and for a moment, you wondered if you should just walk away. But you knew that would be foolish. No matter how much Arin seemed to want to break you down, you weren’t the kind of person to let someone like her get the best of you.
“I understand,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.
"I expect you to follow protocol exactly as it's laid out, no exceptions," she said, leaning forward slightly. "And whatever personal connections you might have? Leave them at the door. This is a professional environment, and I won’t tolerate anything less than that."
You took a steadying breath, forcing yourself to remain composed. "Understood," you said evenly, meeting her eyes.
Her lips curled into a tight smile, but it wasn’t warm. “I want you to know that there will be no fraternizing with any of the group members. If you do, you’ll be fired. Do you understand?”
The intensity of her statement lingered in the air, her piercing gaze challenging you to flinch. But you didn’t. You square your shoulders and met her eyes, willing your voice to stay firm. “Crystal clear,” you replied.
“This is a very different environment,” she continued, her eyes locking with yours, as if daring you to challenge her. “Here, we don’t do things the way you might be used to. There’s no room for mistakes, no room for error. We work fast, we work hard, and we work with a level of professionalism that you might not have encountered before. I trust you understand that.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, her subtle jab not lost on you. Instead, you forced a polite nod, your expression calm despite the fire building in your chest. “Yes. And I respect your position. I’m here to do my job, and I intend to do it well.”
“We’ll see about that. I have my doubts. I hope you prove me wrong.”
You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. The pressure in the air felt suffocating, but you could tell that Arin wasn’t finished yet.
“You’ll be working under my direct supervision,” she continued, her tone sharper now. “And if I catch even the slightest hint that you're not living up to the standard I expect, you’ll be gone before you even realize what happened. Got it?”
You didn't even know if she had the power to do it, but it was clear that there was no room for negotiation. It was clear that Arin wasn’t interested in a discussion, only in making sure you knew exactly where you stood in this power dynamic.
“Got it,” you said again, your words tight but firm.
“I’m in charge here,” she adds again. “Anything I need goes through me.”
“Sounds good.”
“I don’t know how your last experience here worked, and I don’t care. Anything goes down with you and someone in the group, you’re fired. Remember one thing: I have eyes everywhere.”
The repetition of her words didn’t escape you, but you didn’t feel the need to comment on it. Arin was clearly intent on asserting dominance and testing how far she could push you. It was as if she needed to keep reminding you of the same boundaries, like she was trying to convince herself more than anything else.
You noticed the way her eyes kept scanning you, searching for cracks in your composure. It was strange—almost obsessive, as if she feared that a single slip-up would unravel everything. You could feel her frustration simmering just beneath the surface, her control slipping in these subtle ways that only someone used to being in power would notice. You almost wondered what it was about you that made her so intent on stamping out any hint of rebellion.
“Understood,” you repeated, careful to keep your tone neutral. Your mind was already spinning with the implications of her words.
You had worked in this industry for a long time, and Arin’s rules seemed arbitrary, almost paranoid. She couldn’t control everything, and if she didn’t relax, her insecurity would show.
You still had a job to do, and you weren’t about to let anyone make you doubt your place. “I’m here to work,” you said, trying to keep the slight edge from your voice. “And I’ll follow the protocol, exactly as you laid it out. No issues.”
Arin paused for a moment, studying you intently, as if she were searching for any hint of insincerity. But when her gaze softened, even just a fraction, you knew that she was registering your compliance. It wasn’t the warmth of trust, just the relief of a brief moment of silence where she wasn’t feeling threatened.
“Good,” she said at last, her voice slightly less sharp, though still guarded. “I expect no less.”
She pressed the button and the elevator started moving again with a jolt that almost made you lose your balance.
When you exited the elevator, you walked behind her until you reached one of the rooms, marked with a sign that reads: SEVENTEEN - Do Not Disturb - Rehearsal.
“Welcome to the team,” Arin said over her shoulder, her tone colder than the temperature of the hallway. It wasn’t a greeting—it was more of a command. And then she opened the door to the practice room.
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I Loved You Too Early
Summary: You've been admiring the captain of the prominent football team in your school, whom you secretly admiring from afar. You thought he was out of your reach until you saw him studying in your brother's room. Genre: brother's best friend, slow-burn Pairing: Non-idol! Jungwon x Fem! Reader Word count: Part I: 11,432k; Part II: 14,297k (Overall: 26,179k) Chapters: 10 (Completed) (divided in two parts) Warnings: This is heavily inspired by the Chinese drama 'Hidden Love' so there's a big resemblance, age gap (5 years difference), unrequited love, a little bit of sprinkle of angst, fluff, time skip, just a teeny-weeny bit of fist fighting (but not too much!), and not solid proof-read because its too long (╥﹏╥). Author's Note: I apologize for being gone for a year (⭑•͈ 𓎟 •͈ ). While working on this, I suddenly became so busy with college that I decided to put it on hold. Now that I've graduated and started working in corporate, my responsibilities have doubled or even tripled, and I completely forgot to continue this. (◞‸ ◟) However, in the past few days, I've been motivated to finally finish it. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- This was supposed to be in a longer format, but I decided to divide it into two parts so you can take breaks without missing where you left off. Thank you all for patiently waiting! I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. Enjoy!
PART I PART II
Chapter One
You don't know exactly when your dull world was invaded by an unexpected rhythm that made your whole world sway in unending swirling motions.
When did your pulse start to waltz to the beat of an unknown tune, or when did your heart seem to pound louder than before, like a drum heralding the arrival of a marching band.
At first, these sensations frighten you, as you thought you were experiencing early symptoms of heart disease since your heart was not beating normally.
But this unfamiliar heartbeat, the strong and powerful thump of your heart, doesn't hurt; instead, it is sweet, pleasant, and almost comforting.
Then it hit you like an epiphany.
The erratic rhythm of your heart wasn't a medical heart disease at all, but an emotional one.
The strange heartbeat wasn't a signal of a heart condition—it was the throbbing pulse of attraction, of affection, of something you had never felt before:
Love.
A feeling that is often described as an intense, affectionate concern for another individual or object. It is one of humanity's most profound emotions, embedded in both our psyche and our essence.
They said that love's profound complexity underscores its paradoxical nature; you have to—
'pay attention'
—pay attention to recognize it as an emotion that deserves—
'Y/N'
—respect, care and openne—
"Nishimura Y/N!"
Your eyes immediately snapped open when you heard the scream of your name, making you bolt upright from your productive daydreaming.
You quickly blink your eyes to adjust your vision from the blurriness brought on by your deep slumber.
As you tried to shake off the sleepiness, your eyes settled on the person standing in front of the blackboard, brows furrowed, glaring at you with irritation.
You immediately stood up like a soldier from your chair, making a loud screeching noise from the abrupt motion.
"You're not paying attention in my class, Ms. Y/N." Your math teacher pointed out the obvious when she got you caught slacking off in her subject.
Your face burned hotter than a thousand suns, and your ears tingled with embarrassment. The usual supportive wall of the classroom felt like it bows inward, ready to collapse on you.
"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. K-kim" You bowed as you stammered an apology, voice barely audible.
You kept your head down, feeling the sudden shame creep in your body when you saw everyone in the class watching you.
Their interest was now directed from the perplexing equations on the board to the scene unfolding at the back.
"I expect all of you to respect the time I put into preparing lessons and the class itself. If you have issues staying awake in my class, especially you, Ms. Nishimura," you flinched at the mention of your family name.
"I suggest you try to figure out the equation for resolving that issue before you start learning about algebra," she continued, her gaze firmly locked with yours while her face was void of any emotion.
The snickers from your classmates were almost as unbearable as the chasing glare from Mrs. Kim. She let out a disappointed sigh before deciding to continue the discussion.
You slowly sat back on your chair, still red with embarrassment, knowing that this unforgettable scene would become classroom lore, a tale that would inevitably follow you through the rest of your middle school year.
"Someone stayed up all night reading manga again." Chunso, one of your bestfriend, teases you after the math class ends.
"Is it my fault that her voice sounds like a lullaby?" You pouted while putting all your things in your bag.
Well, it's true.
Mrs. Kim, who had been teaching for thirty good years, had a voice with a subdued resonance, softer than silk yet harder than rock.
It was a perfect lullaby for you when the math equations emerged with her voice, creating a hypnotic sonata of numbers.
"Really?" He deadpanned. "You're going to blame her voice when your thick eyebags already speak for you that you haven't had enough sleep?" he playfully flicked your forehead, making you whine. "You're lucky she didn't put you in detention."
You continued to pursed your lips and decided not to comment on anything since it was really your fault for spending the rest of your night reading Shounen manga until dawn, leaving you only 4 hours of sleep.
And so you thought of sneakily using the time in math class to take a short nap, but that short snooze took you to dreamland, completely sweeping you off from reality.
Then you get caught.
If only the first letter in Chunso's last name is closer to yours, then there's a big chance he'll be your seatmate, which will help you prevent getting caught.
But you were so unlucky, as he was in the front row while you were in the last.
"Oh, what happened to her?" your other bestfriend, Eunhee, asked when she saw you sulking while clinging to Chunso's arm.
Unfortunately, she's not in the same class as you and Chunso, so you all just meet in the hallway every lunch break.
"Got caught sleeping." You hide your face behind Chunso's arm when you feel another wave of embarrassment hit you. You also expected a row of teasing words from her, but instead, you were embraced by a warm arm around your shoulder with a gentle rub on your arm.
"Did you get detention?" You looked up to her and shook your head in response.
"Then there's nothing to be worried about," she consoled, offering you a comforting smile that wipes your shame away.
You let go of Chunso's arm and cling your arms around her.
You wanted the rest of your high school journey to be quiet and unnoticed, your presence a mere ripple in the grand ocean of faces. But, as luck would have it, today you were scolded in front of 35 students.
"Aigoo, my little sister had a rough day." She coos while patting your head gently. Even though she was only four months older than you, she always considered you her younger sibling, as she never had one.
"Yah! Did you tease her about it?" Eunhee's soft voice was quickly replaced with a loud, arrogant one when her attention went back to Chunso.
"I didn't!" Chunso defended, his eyes suddenly finding the floor interesting as he tried to avoid the scrutinizing eyes of his friend.
You felt Eunhee's hand stop patting your head when she sensed that he was lying. Suddenly, Chunso yelped in pain. You looked up and saw her pulling the boy's poor hair.
You let out a giggle at your two friends acting like they were going to make each other bald by snatching each other's hair.
You take hold of their arms and gently remove their holds on both of their hair.
"It's okay, I'm good now," you assured them while softly fixing their messy hair. You might get teased about what happened earlier, but at least it leaves you with a lesson to learn to balance your time to avoid getting sleepy in class.
Your genuine smile partnered with the softness in your eyes removes their worries.
Ever since your friendship bloomed after you helped the two treat their wounds after the incident in your PE class in 4th grade, they have always stuck with you and considered you their precious little sister that they needed to protect.
So, the thought that you might get teased about the humiliating situation concerns them.
"Let's have lunch!" You excitedly exclaim and drag them with you as you cling to their arms.
Chunso and Eunhee shared a look while they let you yank them to the cafeteria, a silent agreement that your lunch is on them to brighten the rest of your day.
After the delightful lunch break that you have with your friends, which they surprise you with a once-a-month sale of bacon croque monsieur in the cafeteria along with a legendary chocolate mousse that makes you jump from happiness, you shortly parted ways with them as you are instructed by your teacher to get some books from the library that will be used in your class activity.
As you walk through the empty hallways, with the crisp pages and musty scent of the books accompanying you, something catches your peripheral vision.
Across the dusty path to your next class, you saw a spectacle unfolding on the bustling football field.
Captivated by the sudden burst of energy from the loud cheering, you rubbed your eyes and squinted through your glasses, pausing your hurried steps.
From your point in the hallway, you can see a group of people energetically playing football, and the scene looks like a small showdown.
You were never the biggest football fan, but you could at least appreciate the smooth precision of their passes.
With a further inspection from your spot, you could make out why a handful of spectators and students are basking in the afternoon sun when you see some of the players wearing the most famous navy blue and white striped jersey.
The group that clad themselves in that jersey were not just average students; they were the revered football team of your school.
The Nightball Team.
Ever since the establishment of the Nightball Team, it has consistently reigned supreme, its renown spreading far beyond the city.
The team is born out of a unique blend of teamwork, discipline, ambition, and a fierce drive for continuous development.
Making them act as an emblem representing not just the school but the principles its students stand for.
Every time the name of your school is mentioned, the Nightball Team is always the first thing that comes to everyone's mind.
That's how famous they are.
Amidst the navy blue and white-soaked jerseys, a certain person caught your attention. His physique was chiseled, his movements defying time as he led the team with an innate confidence that was as charming as it was stirring.
His jersey number 04, clung to his athletic body as he ran, skillfully dodging the opponents while carrying the ball that was tucked in his arm. Each tactical maneuver, every calculated move, displayed an enchanting dance of dominance and tenacity.
Then it happened—Nightball Team scored, erupting a loud cheer from the crowd.
As the dust settled around him, he looked up, his face breaking into a humble, triumphant grin that lit up his eyes.
It was as if the Earth rotated a little slower, distorted only by the increased pace of your heart.
Ah, now you remember when did your heart started to act out like a drum roll, jumping to the beat like a fool.
It was when he humbly acknowledged a job well done, his genuine joy for the game, and the soft crinkles around his eyes as he gently smiled while everyone praised him for scoring the goal.
That was the moment when you felt it for the first time—your stomach fluttering like there was a swarm of butterflies lodged in there, and your heart skipped a beat—for the first time, not for the new volume of Shounen Manga
but for someone else.
A peculiar sensation that only happens because of him.
Only because of him.
Chapter Two
As everyone in the class attempts to pay attention, the warm sunlight flowing through the classroom window did little to improve the class' concentration.
The monotone voice of your teacher talking about some dead men who died in a fight hundreds of years ago slowly puts everyone to sleep.
It was another ordinary Wednesday for the rest of the students, but for you, it was unimaginably extraordinary.
Before, there was no particular day that seemed special for you.
It was all just ordinary that you have to get through—well, except for Sunday, since that's the scheduled release for each chapter of the manga you are currently binge-reading.
However, after you learned that every Wednesday was the Nightball Team's practice in the field, it became a day that you always looked forward to.
The day when you can only see him.
It's unexplainable how his humble smile, which makes his dimples dig deeper into his natural rosy cheeks while his eyes form a crescent moon, can catch not only your attention but also your very young heart.
Maybe you were simply mesmerized by a man who wore the number 04 jersey, even though you didn't know his name.
You tried everything you could to know his name; you tried to dig through the old school newspapers that you sometimes kept to solve the sudoku part and re-read the sports section in the hope his name would be mentioned.
You also tried to go to your school's website, searching for him by using the Nightball Team's name in the search engine, which is always a hot topic on the website, but surprisingly, you were still left wondering what his name was.
The two options that you chose to know who is the mysterious jersey number 04 are the best choices that you could have since that's all you can do.
However, you still have one good option left.
The best option that will surely secure the chance of knowing his name.
But no matter how great this option was, you would rather get embarrassed again in the class than choosing it.
Asking your brother.
Your brother, Ni-ki Nishimura, who is part of the baseball team, is the best option to ask anything about sports, as he has been athletic and very knowledgeable in that area ever since you were both children.
He is a born sports prodigy.
Besides being part of the sports club at your school, he also has a huge number of friends, not only on his team but especially on the football team.
You don't know why, because the last time you checked, baseball and football are different sports, but your brother appears to be much closer to the members of the Nightball Team than his.
He really is the best choice to finally name the one you are admiring if he is not only a pain in the ass.
Despite your family's crowning him a prodigy and naturally talented, he is always the annoying and bloody irritating brother in your eyes.
He will literally make fun of your desperate mission of knowing the name of a particular person on the football team.
Heck, he might give you the wrong name just for fun.
However, that is not the worst thing that might happen if you ask him something that will give him a hint that you have developed a sudden interest in someone, especially if that someone is the opposite gender from you.
He will explode.
Your brother, who is five years older than you, has the tendency to become very protective when it comes to you.
He might be an obnoxious and nosy brother, but he has a soft spot for you that he cannot admit.
He will do everything to protect you, especially your heart, from men.
Therefore, if he finds out that you are growing admiration for someone, especially in the Nightball Team, he will literally ban you from going to the football field.
You sigh as you scribble his jersey number in your notebook while the boring class continues.
The bell signaling the end of the class of the day rang, making your mood reach the ceiling of happiness. The usual fidgeting in your seat to the rhythm of the clock turned into a wild scramble as you packed up your textbooks and pencil case into your bag.
You rush out of the classroom with thoughts of finally watching a football practice occupying your mind.
But before you could fully get out of the room, you felt a tug on your bag forcefully stop you in your tracks.
"What's with the rush?" Chunso asked still holding your bag.
"I-I'm going to the l-library!" You exclaim as you stumble over your words. Your friend's eyes immediately narrowed into slits when he sense you are making excuses.
"What will you do there?" he interrogates, as it was unusual for you to go to the library after class since you were always eager to go back home to spend the rest of your day reading manga.
"To study, o-of course," you said, forcing a smile in the hopes he would buy your alibi. However, it just proved his suspicion that you are hiding some information that you don't want him to know.
"Hmm." Your smile slowly faded when you realized he didn't believe you. You sigh in defeat.
"I promise that I'm not doing anything bad." You raised your pinky at him as an assurance to ease his worries.
Chunso was still observing you, looking for any hint of lying. He then let out a sigh, seeing the sincere look behind your words.
"You promise to message me and Eunhee when you get home," he said, raising his pinky. A big smile made its way into your face, brightening your mood.
Even though Chunso is not entirely convinced to let you go since you didn't tell him the real reason why you don't want to go home yet, he still trusts you that you're not doing anything behind their back that will make them worried.
You tightly cling your pinky to his, sealing it with both of your thumbs touching.
"I promise!"
After saying goodbye to Chunso, you immediately skip your way to the football field with so much giddiness. Each step you take intensifies your excitement as you are finally able to watch the practice match of the Nightball Team without using the view from the hallway.
You spot an empty seat that is secluded from the rest of the bleachers, although it is far away from the field where the players play, it is still enough for you to cheerfully cheer for your jersey number 04 without being noticed.
The crowd suddenly screamed with excitement when the players of the Nightball team showed up on the field. Your eyes started to scan the players, finding the specific person who always filled your sketchbook and slowly became your favorite muse.
It was as if your world had suddenly slipped into slow motion, and all the noises were muted when you saw him walking with confidence in the field—everything but him and his bright smile faded away.
You held your chest when you felt your heart skip again in a beat that only he could make.
Each time he ran across the field, swinging the ball with finesse, you would do a small victory dance in your heart. You watched every move, every goal, every mistake he made, and still supported him while your hand was busy sketching every movement he made and leaving small comments of amazement beside your sketch.
You would also offer whispers of encouragement, muffled applause, and silent woohoo with your heart thumped in silent cheer.
As the sun went down and the practice match ended, you found a sense of fulfillment you had rarely felt before. You hadn't elbowed your way through the fanatic crowd or screamed your lungs out, but something told you that you cheered the loudest.
It feels like you were bewitched by his enchanting display of professionalism and respect for the game, that you always find yourself in the same seat every week, watching him with full admiration in your eyes.
Your heart fluttered as you headed home while reminiscing the practice match you watched earlier, already dreaming of the next Wednesday when you could watch your jersey number 04 playing on the field again.
"Practice match?" Your mom spoke once you entered the house.
She's the only one who knows that you always watch the football practice, as you can never lie to her. Somehow it makes you guilty because your mom thought you were just growing a fascination with that sport, not knowing you're only there for a certain person.
"Yep!" You sneakily grab a slice of fruit in a bowl that your mom passionately peeled and cut into pieces. "But I went to Eunhee's house to do our assignments."
The football match ended much earlier than usual; sometimes it takes two to three hours, but today they concluded the practice for an hour, giving you time to drop by Eunhee's house when she invited you and Chunso to do your homework there, although you three only ended up watching movies instead of doing it.
You were about to get another slice of fruit when your mother gently slapped your hand, stopping you from getting more.
"You're going to be full before you can get dinner. Go to your room to wash up and call your brother; we will have dinner in a minute." She ushered as you pouted and sulkingly went upstairs, making your mom shake her head at your sillyness.
Then she remembered something.
"Ah, bring down your brother's friend as well!!" she yelled from downstairs, muffling her voice in the process as you entered your room, making you not hear the rest of her words.
"Nii-san, we're going to eat" You called outside your brother's room, clad in your blue Cinnamoroll print pajamas after you wash up.
"Riki-niisan!" You knock on his door repeatedly when he doesn't respond, making your cheeks puff in annoyance.
"I'm going to your room if you don't come out," you threatened, knowing your brother doesn't like you setting foot in his room.
You rolled your eyes and barged into his room, kicking the door open.
"Nii-chan! What's taking you so long!?" You screamed at the top of your lungs with both of your hands resting on your hips.
You expect to see him playing PlayStation while wearing his headphones, the reason he couldn't hear you calling because of the noises in the game, but instead, you are greeted with a familiar pair of Boba eyes staring at you.
You furrowed your eyebrows, squinting your eyes in the process to get a better look at the person sitting on the chair, as you forgot to wear your glasses.
He's definitely not your brother, as his eyes were sharper, contrasting to the softer eyes of this person in front of you.
You take a step closer to see his face, which is still blurry in your vision.
On the other hand, the boy suddenly felt amused at how you tried to scrutinize him. He couldn't help but chuckle when you got even closer.
You were taken aback when he suddenly let out a soft laugh. His dimples appeared on his left cheek with his eyes turning to a crescent moon.
Your eyes slowly went wide when you finally got familiar with those traits that make your heart do summersaults.
You suddenly felt frozen in your position when it slowly registered to you, who were occupying the study table of your brother, surrounded by papers and textbooks that were neatly organized on top of the desk.
You stumbled aback.
How on earth did your nameless jersey number 4 end up in your brother's room?!
Chapter Three
When God decided to create you, he probably accidentally poured too much embarrassment into your basin of personality, or when heaven decided to shower humiliation, you caught all of it as it became a frequent situation that always happened to you.
What's worse is that it happens in front of a person for whom you are developing intense admiration!
You dove into your bed, your face buried deep in your pillow. You gave a mighty inhale and unleashed a deafening scream into its soft embrace while your feet kicked with frustration.
You can bear to get embarrassed again in front of your classmates while your raging teacher scolds you, but not in front of your jersey number 4!
Your first encounter with him wasn't imagined this way; in fact, you didn't have a plan to talk to or be involved with him because you only wanted to admire him from afar.
Still! You had expected to meet him more decently, not while scrutinizing him with squinted eyes in your printed pajamas!
God! You can't imagine how unpleasant you look with your eyes squinting to make your vision clearer with your nose crunching in the process!
"Y/n-chan" You suddenly stop your antics when you hear your brother calling you outside your room. You stay buried in your pillow waiting for him to speak again.
"I'm hungry. Let's go downstairs to eat." Normally, you would straight-up come out of your room and sprint down the stairs, racing your brother ahead to prevent him from getting most of the food that your mother had prepared.
But now, you just want to stay in your room and pray for it to disappear.
"I'm not hungry," you said with a tinge of lack of enthusiasm in your voice.
Although your voice is quite muffled by your pillow, your brother on the other side of the door can clearly sense that you're not in your usual mood.
His brows furrowed.
Ni-ki's sure that he heard you earlier screaming his name at the top of your lungs while he was in the shower, certainly ready to annoy him again. But now, you're acting like your energy suddenly got sucked out of your whole body.
"Really? Mom cooked Oyakodon." He made sure that you heard the last part, knowing that it was your favorite and that it would be hard for you to refuse not to eat. "If you don't come down at any moment, I'm going to eat all of it."
Ni-ki expected the door to burst open and you to rush down the stairs to prevent him from hogging all the meals for himself; however, he was greeted by a different response.
"Hmm, okay" Your muffled hum is his cue to storm inside your room.
"Okay, what's going on with you, brat?" he demandingly asked. Ni-ki might sound annoyed at your unusual antics, but in reality, he was worried and now started racking his head if he did something that made you upset.
He snatches the pillow where your head is buried when you don't reply to his question, making you groan and kick your feet in annoyance.
"Seriously, what's wrong?" Ni-ki slightly cringed when his voice suddenly sounded soft, wishing you hadn't heard it.
He proceeded to touch your forehead, checking your temperature to see if you had gotten sick, to which you only whined and smacked his hand away. Your brother sighed.
"If you have no plan to eat, at least tell mom. She even made an effort to make a big serving of your favorite dish just for you."
Your body went still at what your brother softly said.
Since childhood, your parents have always reminded you of the importance of being grateful for all aspects of life, especially the food that graces your table.
Having been born and raised in Japan, you've been instilled with a deep reverence for food to express your appreciation for the hard work of the farmers and the dedication of those who prepare your meals.
Out of guilt, you found yourself sitting at the dining table savoring your favorite Oyakodon while trying to resist stealing glances at the person seated across from you, right beside your brother.
If it were any ordinary day, you'd likely be devouring your meal with gusto, prompting your mother's gentle reminders to slow down.
But today was different.
The presence of the boy who made your heart race like a runaway train transformed your mealtime into a royal feast, leaving your brother to cast perplexed glances your way, baffled by your another uncharacteristic behavior.
"Did you like the food, Y/n-chan?" your father asked when he also noticed that you weren't eating as usual. You wanted to scold your father for mentioning your name, as you felt all the eyes, including the adorable boba eyes, looking at you.
You wanted to say something, but you were afraid that when you spoke, his eyes would linger on you, making you feel another wave of shame. So, you nodded in response without lifting your head and continued looking at your food.
Your parents looked at each other with worry in their eyes, wondering what had happened to their precious, bubbly daughter.
You felt a hand gently rubbing against your back, making you look at your mother, who was beside you.
"Go finish your food so you can have a rest. I'm going to make you green tea later to help you feel better, hmm?" You felt your eyes slightly water as your mom gently cared for you.
Your guilt increased as they thought you were feeling under the weather when, in fact, you were just shy and embarrassed because your jersey no. 4 was on the same table as you.
"How about you, Jungwon? Did you like the food?" Your ears perked up as you looked in his direction when your mother called his name.
His name is Jungwon?
Your heart pounded in your chest, and a mix of excitement and giddiness coursed through your veins. The name resonated with you in a way you couldn't understand.
His name could be translated to "garden," a fitting name that perfectly describes the feeling you experience every time you see him.
Comfort.
"It always tastes good, Mrs. Nishimura. Thank you so much for the wonderful meal." He replied genuinely with a smile.
'Always? This isn't his first time here?' You unconsciously frowned.
Jungwon looked your way, making your eyes widen due to the unexpected eye contact. You quickly looked down at your plate to avoid his gaze, feeling your cheeks burn, with a lasting redness that stayed through the end of dinner.
You weren't sure whether you would be happy to return to your room and continue to privately revel in your embarrassment or disappointed that dinner had passed so quickly.
As you helped your mom with the dishes, you overheard Jungwon expressing his gratitude to your father for inviting him to dinner as they arranged the table.
A sign that he was about to leave.
"Can you send Jungwon to the door, Y/n-chan?" Your mother's request caught you slightly off guard. You had the urge to decline and come up with an excuse, but the guilt of lying to your mother again held you back.
Reluctantly, you found yourself nodding and accepting the request.
A sigh of relief washed over you when your brother also joined you in sending Jungwon off. However, your relief quickly faded when your brother jokingly rushed out the door, leaving Jungwon behind and you alone with him in the genkan as he put on his shoes.
As you stood by the front door, an awkward silence hung between the two of you. You avoided making eye contact, and as Jungwon prepared to leave, you muttered a shy goodbye.
Throughout dinner, Jungwon had been bothered by your quietness and avoidance of eye contact. It led him to believe that he had made you uncomfortable, especially after your encounter with him in Ni-ki's room that made you dash out of your brother's room.
Ni-ki's comment about you acting unusually and not being in the mood for dinner further supported his belief that he had made you uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight," he softly said, his voice tinged with worry, making your brows furrowed in confusion.
"I'm sorry if I laughed earlier; I didn't mean it in a bad way," Jungwon continued as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He thought that his chuckles over your actions were the reason why you got uncomfortable.
Your heart sank when you realized that your actions during dinner had made him think that you were offended by him and that his presence made you uncomfortable.
You quickly shook your head, desperately wanting him to understand the truth. "No, no, there's nothing to apologize for! I assure you, you didn't make me uncomfortable. I'm just naturally shy."
Relief washed over his face as he let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. "Really? I thought I made you upset."
"Not at all. I just felt embarrassed because I didn't know Ni-chan had a guest, and I didn't greet them properly." You couldn't help but puff your cheeks when you felt another wave of shyness as you looked down at your fiddling fingers.
A smile crept onto Jungwon's face, making his eyes soften. "It's okay, I know you were just surprised. No need to get embarrassed."
A surge of warm feelings engulfed your heart when you heard his gentle reassurance. You really wanted to look at him, but you were afraid that he'd see the redness in your cheeks that reflected your true feelings for him.
Your thoughts were cut off when you saw his hand offered towards you. You try to swallow your fears and find a courage to slowly looked up from his hand to his face.
You could almost hear your heart pound with fervor, like a wild drumbeat in harmony with your emotions, when you saw him closely with a soft expression paired with a gentle smile, making his dimple make another appearance.
"Hello, I'm Yang Jungwon, your brother's friend." Your eyes almost welled up when you realized that he was making you forget the embarrassing first encounter by redoing it as if you had just met each other.
You softly smiled and took his hand in a handshake. You felt a sudden spark of electricity shroud your body because of the contact.
"I'm Nishimura Y/n, Riki-nii's sister." Jungwon's eyes formed into crescent moons when you accepted his gesture of starting over. Although he already knew a little about you because of your brother, it was still nice to finally meet his friend's sister whom the latter always talked about adorably.
"Nice meeting you, Y/n." He started shaking both of your hands as if sealing a deal, making you giggle.
"Nice meeting you too, Jungwon nii-san."
Chapter Four
You thought that your feelings for Jungwon wouldn't blossom any further, but you were proven wrong when you found yourself researching nutritious foods appropriate for a football player that can boost his energy during practice games, instead of focusing on your homework.
Never in your life did you imagine that there would be a day when it's your turn to give someone a gift to show your appreciation, just like your schoolmates in 6th grade used to do for their crushes—a gesture you often found cringy before.
Yet now, you're going to do it as well.
Football season is just around the corner, making the Nightball Team busier with their practice. Hence, you see this as an opportunity to support Jungwon by providing snacks and bottles of energy drinks anonymously.
You know how intensely athletes practice during the game season, as you've witnessed it to your brother.
To help their bodies keep up with the rigorous training, nutritious foods are very essential.
As you stroll around the convenience store with a basket in hand already full of nutritious foods and energy drinks, a colorful message cards and envelopes caught your eyes.
The intricate design of each card and envelopes make your eyes twinkle in delight.
You've been also a fan of stationery items, developing a fascination for collecting envelopes and colored papers that pave the way for another passion—creating a journal with these elegant items.
If not for manga, the excess in your allowance is spent on stationery items.
As you eye the items, a sudden thought crosses your mind, making your heart beat to a now familiar tune that you are slowly getting used to.
You nibble the side of your cheek, contemplating whether it would be worth it.
You close your eyes, slowly taking deep breaths and gathering the confidence to do it.
Now full of determination, you took the cards and envelopes and proceeded to the counter to check out the items.
Your entire night was spent carefully preparing small packages, filling them with nutritious snacks and energy drinks. Along these, you include heartfelt and motivational notes crafted on small cards that you've intricately designed.
The following morning, you found yourself navigating the empty hallway in an unusual early hour while clutching the gift in your trembling hands, your heart pounding with each step.
Reaching Jungwon's locker, you hesitated for a moment, your mind replaying scenarios of what could happen next.
Would someone appear out of nowhere? Would Jungwon catch a glimpse of you?
With a last scanned around the hallway to make sure no one is around, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself that the early morning cloak of silence was on your side.
Swiftly, you slipped your gift along with the letter into his locker, your hands moving with a kind of precision that only nervous anticipation could bring.
As you put the gifts gently, you feel a rush of adrenaline, a mixture of satisfaction and nervous energy coursing through your veins.
With the deed done, you retraced your steps, leaving behind the token of your affection. The school began to stir with the arrival of students, and you blended seamlessly into the crowd, keeping your secret hidden behind a casual smile.
You wanted to wait and witness Jungwon's reaction to your gift, but fear taking ahead of you as you pondered the possibility that his response might not align with your expectations.
Ultimately, you chose not to proceed and continued on your way to class.
Later in the afternoon, you found yourself on the same bench you sat, watching the practice game just as you always done. The field was buzzing with energy as the players warmed up, their determination evident in every stride they took.
Amongst them, Jungwon stood out like a star.
As the game began, you found yourself entranced once again by Jungwon's performance. He darted across the field, effortlessly evading opponents with his nimble footwork. His passes were precise and his shots were powerful.
He commanded the field with an air of confidence that made your heart swell with pride.
His performance today was exceptionally good compared to the previous practice games. Not that he wasn't good before—he truly was—but today, it felt like he was in his zone.
Every move he made was so powerful. You couldn't help but wonder if the pressure of the upcoming football season was driving him to new heights.
However, it wasn't just Jungwon's skill that impressed you; it was the pure sheer joy he exude while playing that you always like to see.
His face lit up with a radiant smile every time he made a good play or celebrated a victory. It was clear the football was more than just a game to him; it was a passion that ignited and fueled his determination.
A soft and gentle smile made its way to your face as you held your hands close to your chest, feeling the crazy beat of your heart as you admired Jungwon from afar.
A whistle blew across the field, signaling that the first half of the practice game had just ended, making the players come back to the dugout to take a break. As the players made their way, your eyes only remained and followed Jungwon.
As he talked to one of the players, you saw him reach out for something among the water bottles and energy drinks. He twisted the cup and chugged its contents, making his Adam's apple bob with every gulp. The afternoon sun struck his skin, making it glow like honey and accentuating his chiseled jaw.
You catch your breath in a small gasp, not because of how attractive he looks but because the bottle he is holding is slowly becoming familiar.
It's the energy drink that you brought for him!
You know that it was yours because you made sure that the energy drink that you brought was different from the energy drink that they always drink every day, plus you can see the bright yellow sticker message that contained your motivational pun attached to the bottle!
You suddenly felt like you were not breathing when he noticed the sticker; his furrowed brows made you nervous as he read the message. You almost wanted to leave the field, thinking he didn't like what was written there, when all of a sudden he burst into laughter, making the other players look his way.
His teammates wanted to see what made him laugh, but Jungwon held the bottle close to his chest and refused to let anybody know.
Your cheeks suddenly flamed with redness; you don't know if it was from embarrassment or because of the overwhelming feeling of seeing his positive reaction to your motivational pun.
Jungwon looked at the sticker on the bottle once again and let out a chuckle while shaking his head in amusement. His smile and bright eyes didn't leave until the end of the practice game, making you feel a new sense of fulfillment knowing the small act of affection had reached him.
You guess the "Kick some Asparag-ass
(૭ 。•̀ ᵕ •́。 )૭" somehow made his day.
Seeing Jungwon's positive impact of your secret gesture fueled a newfound motivation deep within your soul.
Especially when you saw his soft smile upon discovering the rest of the gift you had left in his locker, a moment for which you had finally summoned the courage to witness his reaction.
Due to this, you can't help but ponder what else you could do—or another motivational pun to put— to bring him happiness and encouragement without revealing your true identity.
With each passing day, you continued to surprise Jungwon with small anonymous gifts, each carefully selected to brighten his practice session and show your support.
Noticing Jungwon excelled in his games and his skills shone even brighter with added encouragement, made your heart swell with pride each time you witnessed his growth, even though he remained unaware of your involvement.
You planned to spend your whole day today coming up with different ideas to keep Jungwon motivated, but since it was Sunday—meaning today was the scheduled release of a new chapter of the manga you were reading—you got distracted and ended up lying down lazily on the couch in the leaving room with an iPad hovering over your face.
You giggled when the supporting character thought that the protagonist was a love child of a known superhero in the story.
As you continued scrolling the pages, you heard the front door open.
Since the iPad completely covered your vision of the door, you didn't see who entered the house; you didn't mind and didn't bother to look who it was and continued reading, thinking it was only your brother since your dog, Bisco, immediately ran to the door with enthusiasm.
"Hey, make me some snacks." The voice of your irritating brother demanded—you guessed it right—it was your brother, which made your eyes immediately roll.
"Make your own," you grumbled, your eyes remaining on the screen.
"I'm going to study," he retorted, earning a scoff from you. 'Study my ass'
You remained unmoved, pretending not to hear him. However, your brother was relentless about getting you to make him snacks, resorting to tickling your foot.
You squirmed and kicked his hands away, still avoiding eye contact, thinking that ignoring him would make him leave you alone.
But the more you resisted, the more persistent your brother became.
Ni-ki decided to take it a step further and removed the socks you were wearing, continuing to tickle your bare foot.
You dramatically squirm around as if you were being possessed, earning a hearty laugh from your brother.
You got up and lodged a smack on your brother's arm when you had enough of his annoyance.
The sound of it resonated through the living room, proving how strong it was. You were ready to give him another one when you noticed another presence in the room.
Your fist hung mid-air, and your body froze as you saw Jungwon smiling at you.
"Hi, Y/n"
You immediately straightened your posture and quickly tucked your messy hair behind your ears.
"H-hello, Jungwon n-nii-san," you stammered while simply trying to fix your clothes, in which you are clad in your usual pajamas with pompompurin designs. You chew the side of your cheek.
Why is it that every time you look at your worst, Jungwon always shows up?
"Nii-san?" Your brother questioned, making you look at him. His brows furrowed like he couldn't believe what he had heard.
"We've been living here in South Korea for 5 years; it should be Oppa now."
Your fist suddenly feels itchy to punch your brother at the moment.
He knows that you're not yet comfortable using those honorifics because you're still adjusting to their culture; you're still slowly trying to fit in.
Your fist has already collided with his arm; if not, your jersey no. 4 is not here.
"O-opp—" You gulp, looking down at your feet, trying your best to find the courage to say it. Wanting to put a good impression in front of the person you are admiring, you will try to say it.
"O-opp—"
"—ah"
"O-op—"
"It's okay, Y/n" You immediately stopped when you heard a reassuring voice. You looked up, and your eyes immediately softened when you saw Jungwon looking at you with gentleness.
"I'm fine with Nii-san; you don't have to force yourself." You felt a warm glow of reassurance spread through your body, thawing the icy grip of fear that had taken hold of you.
"Nah, man. She can say i—" Before your brother could finish his words, Jungwon's fist already collided with Ni-ki's back, playfully smacking his friend.
"Let's have your sister do what makes her comfortable. Respect her decision, dude." Your brother quickly returns the punch to his friend, which only makes the latter laugh.
As Jungwon and Ni-ki were laughing and playfully bickering at each other, you stood there watching as if your world stood still, leaving you with the feeling of a crushing wave of warmth washing over you.
In the quiet corners of your heart, a warm ember began to glow.
It flickered gently at first, timidly reaching out to the cool, untouched spaces within.
Jungwon's gentle smile, the softness of his eyes, and his kindness made the ember grow, its flames dancing in harmony with the newfound rhythm of your heartbeat that you didn't know suddenly changed into something more.
'Uh, oh, you're falling in love'
The fluttering of your heart becomes more frequent and pronounced that every time Jungwon appears in your line of sight, you experience this peculiar feeling.
These little flutters seemed to build into a crescendo, filling your heart with a strange yet amazing feeling.
Every word that Jungwon says to you always shows how pure and kind his soul was, making the beat of your heart grow louder as if announcing to the cosmos the love that is blossoming within you.
Slowly, your heart was no longer fluttering; it was soaring.
'Oh no, you're falling in love'
You had always believed in love because of your parents, but you had never truly understood its power until now.
You realized that love was more than a fleeting connection; it was the awakening of your soul.
It was a feeling that washed over you like a gentle wave, leaving you breathless and craving for more.
As you look at Jungwon, a new, profound, warm sensation spreads through your chest, gradually seeping into every corner of your being.
It was a sensation of love, softening your edges and illuminating your soul.
It was a feeling that found solace in vulnerability and flourished in the light of trust.
'Oh, you're falling in love.'
Chapter Five
The newfound realization made your heart skip a beat and sent a rush of nervous energy through your veins.
You can't believe it, you have fallen in love.
With such a simple word, its complexities were unraveling before you, leaving you both exhilarated and terrified.
At a young age, you already found yourself entangled in a web of emotions that you had never encountered.
It was your first taste of this intoxicating elixir, and you were utterly unprepared for its effects.
With this newfound love came a wave of shyness that seemed to wash over you whenever you were in Jungwon's presence, making you tongue-tied like every word you wanted to say remained locked behind closed lips.
You couldn't even bring yourself to meet his gaze when you brought snacks to your brother's room while they were studying.
As you thought they were both studying.
Because upon handling their snack, you realized that only your brother was engrossed in his studies, while Jungwon was actively helping and guiding him, almost like a dedicated tutor.
This observation lingered in your thoughts, making you seek clarification from your mother about it.
"Oh, Jungwon?" Your mother started "his tutoring your brother on some of his subjects for weeks now." She continued while chopping some vegetables for dinner.
While this information seemed like a casual detail to your mother, for you, it was a revelation that left your eyes widening in shock.
How had you not noticed him doing this earlier, especially considering he had been tutoring your brother in his room for several days now?
What surprised you even more was how he managed to balance this commitment with the intensity of their practice games.
"But why? He's an athlete like Riki-nisan; wouldn't it be exhausting to do both?" Your curiosity compelled you to ask.
The chopping abruptly ceased. Your mother gently set down the knife, her gaze softening as she looked at you.
"You see, Jungwon has been struggling to pay off all of his school expenses—" You saw how the sad smile made its way to your mother's face.
"—despite working part-time, it hasn't been enough. Your brother offered financial assistance, but he always refused. Your brother was determined to help, so he proposed the idea of Jungwon tutoring your brother in subjects he was struggling with," your mother explained, continuing to chop vegetables as you listened attentively.
"That young boy is such a genuine friend to your brother. Despite his financial struggles, he consistently rejects any money from your brother's pocket. If only his mother hadn't fallen ill, he would have also declined your brother's offer."
The weight of the revelation made your heart sink.
While you admired Jungwon for his skills and charm, little did you know about the silent battles he faced. Yet, he remained a compassionate soul willing to endure hardships to support his family.
"So, if your friends are also struggling with their studies, let me know so we can recommend Jungwon to them, okay?" Your mother said with a hopeful smile on her face, also wanting to extend her help to her son's friend.
You nodded and agreed without hesitation, though deep down, a secret plan was forming in your mind.
You were the one who would be getting the tutoring sessions with Jungwon.
If Ni-ki was naturally a sports prodigy, you on the other hand were a naturally gifted student, excelling in all subjects effortlessly.
Despite being smart and not needing any help with your studies, you plan to take on the role of a struggling student to help Jungwon to support him financially.
With that plan, you were more determined to help Jungwon rather than get closer to him.
You were pacing back and forth, your heart pounding with anticipation. It was the day of your tutoring session with the person who only can make your heart do crazy act like this.
When you brought up the topic of needing a tutor during dinner, your parents were taken aback, nearly choking on their food.
It seemed incomprehensible to them that their academically successful daughter, particularly excelling in physics, would require assistance in any subject.
Fortunately, you are gifted an understanding parents who acknowledge that even bright students face challenges. Consequently, they graciously granted your request for a tutor, specifically Jungwon as your tutor in the subject where you usually excel the most—physics.
You will literally rot in hell for lying too much to your parents.
Back in your brother's room—which is the place you have requested to use for your tutor session—your mind swirling with thoughts of how the session would go.
You meticulously organized your study materials, ensuring they were arranged perfectly on your desk. You adjusted your hair, clothes, and everything in an attempt to look decent.
When the knock finally came at the door, your heart felt like leaped into your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts, before answering it. There stood Jungwon, clad in a fresh fluffy gray hoodie with a shy smile playing on his lips.
"Hey, Y/n. How are you today?" He casually asks as he enters your brother's room, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on you.
"I-I'm g-good, thank y-you." You cleared your throat, trying to cover your stuttered response. You felt your face immediately flush from embarrassment.
Jungwon smiled gently, sensing your nervousness. "Great! Let's start our lesson then," he said, pulling out a chair for you. "Remember, there's no need to be nervous. We're here to learn together, and I'm here to help."
From his assurance, you felt again the familiar melody in your heart that you can slowly put into a song, and it swelled every time he spoke with kindness.
Whenever you feel embarrassed or in trouble speaking your mind, Jungwon always catches you with soothing words, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was as if he knew exactly what to say to make you feel validated and loved.
His kind words seemed to have a power of their own, melting away your doubts and worries.
It wasn't just the words, though. It was the way Jungwon said them, the gentle sincerity in his voice. His words were not empty promises or shallow compliments; they held a genuine warmth that touched your heart.
Each day, his kind words reaffirmed your belief that your heart made the right choice in loving him.
"I hear you were having trouble in advanced physics?" You sheepishly nodded, crossing your fingers under the table, invoking a protective power to mitigate the bad consequences that will come to you for lying too much.
"Well, it's not your fault for finding this subject challenging. Teaching this level of physics in 7th grade is a bit advanced for young minds. I only started learning it last year in the 11th grade," Jungwon said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Our school's curriculum isn't the best, is it?" he added with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you.
He smiled, sensing that you were getting more comfortable, and began to slowly proceed with tutoring you.
As the session went on, Jungwon always been patient with you, eager to make you comfortable around him and create an environment wherein you could truly "learn."
But you've got to admit, the tips he is providing to help you understand the concept better are much easier to grasp than the way your teacher teaches.
As you spent more time with Jungwon, diving into deeper topics week after week, your feelings for him grew stronger. The way he explained things made you admire and like him more.
In those quite study moments, he made the subject matter feel like a beautiful melody, resonating not just in your head but also in your heart.
Falling for Jungwon was like a slow waterfall, this gentle descent into a realm where every drop carried a piece of your heart, cascading softly into the pool of emotions that brought a sense of calmness to your soul.
As the weeks pass, not only your feelings blossom but also your friendship with Jungwon.
Jungwon is an easygoing person, conversations with him flowed like a gentle stream, unhurried and reassuring.
Before you start to study, he will ask about how your day went, and he will also share his with you.
Whenever you take a break from the study session, he will offer an icebreaker, such as playing a little bit of brain games or letting you rumble about the manga you were reading while he listens attentively.
One of the things you always look forward to in your study sessions is his thoughtful gifts, given as a reward every time you ace the study exercises or tests and quizzes in physics.
Sometimes, he surprises you with snacks, sharing his favorite jelly, and there's that one thing you can't forget: gifting you the latest volume of the manga you were reading.
"Since you ace the exam last time," Jungwon declared with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I think my student deserves this reward." The corners of his lips curled into a playful smile, as he reached for his bag and pulled out a paper bag and handed it to you.
Curiosity piqued, you eagerly open the bag to reveal the latest volume of your favorite manga series.
Your eyes immediately widened in surprise, a delightful smile spreading across your face. "Jungwon nii-san, you remembered!" You exclaimed, flipping through the pages with excitement. " I can't believe you got this for me!"
Jungwon softly grinned, his own excitement mirrored in his eyes. "Of course, I remembered. You've been talking about this series non-stop, so I thought you'd appreciate having the next volume"
You couldn't count how many time you have been grateful for Jungwon's kindness, the kindness that always feels so warm and welcoming.
However, as you observed the way he interacted with others, you realized that his kindness and warmth were extended to all.
You're not as special to him as you thought.
You felt a bittersweet pang in your chest, acknowledging that he only saw you as his student, a friend, and nothing more.
Much worse, as his little sister.
In the bustling football stadium, under the warm glow of the stadium lights, you found yourself once again in your usual seat, holding your breath as the football game were in full swing. The players of Nightball team sprinted across the field, their feet grazing the perfectly manicured grass.
Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat as Jungwon miraculously spotted you amidst the crowd.
A wide smile spread across Jungwon's face, and he waved at you with unreserved excitement. Your heart fluttered, surprised that he had noticed your presence among the large supporters. You waved back, returning his infectious smile.
As the game continued, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with Jungwon, knowing that after all months of unwavering support for him, he was finally aware of it.
In a brief pause between play, Jungwon jog on your way to quickly thank you for cheering for him, as he talks to you, another talented football player, Jake, approached him, curiosity and amusement evident on is face.
He nudged him and teasingly asked, "Who's this girl you're waving at, man? Do we have a secret fan club now?"
Jungwon simply chuckled, "This is Ni-ki's little sister, Y/n." he look down at you with a softness in his eyes as he gently patted your head, "She's like my little sister too."
You felt a pang in your chest as disappointment washed over you, slowly realizing your position in Jungwon's life.
While your heart crazily beat of full affection for him, his was platonically calm for you.
Despite all of that, you swallowed the hurtful truth and softly smiled, accepting the role of being his only little sister.
From then on, you made a choice to embrace the only friendship you have with Jungwon without demanding more.
You continue to fill the pages of your heart with cherished moments, etching them with love and gratitude.
With each passing day, you learn the true essence of selflessness and acceptance.
Despite the unrequited love that lingered in the depths of your soul, you found solace in the knowledge that the friendship you shared with Jungwon was a treasure you could forever hold dear.
Although you acknowledge already the fact that your relationship with Jungwon will only stay as friends, it didn't stop you to continue sending him gifts and letters still anonymously.
You were happily skipping your way through the school hallway as the morning sun shone brightly, clutching yet again a beautifully wrapped gift along with a heartfelt letter of encouragement for his upcoming football game, and also discreetly thanking him for showing kindness and his help in tutoring you.
But as you approached Jungwon's locker, you noticed him standing there with his group of friends.
Startled, you quickly ducked behind a nearby row of lockers.
Seeing him still engrossed in conversation with his friends and seems like they have no plans to leave the lockers at any moment, you decided to retreat and come back later when they were gone.
With a small and hopeful smile, you turned around and began walking away. But just as you were about to go to your class, something caught your attention.
"Man, you remember the gift that Jungwon received last Friday?" an unfamiliar voice of a boy started, piquing your interest, especially since you knew you had gifted Jungwon that day.
"The design looks so damn childish like it was made by an elementary schooler for their art project." The boy snickered, "And all of the things, a freaking garden design mug as a gift?" he mockingly remarked with a chuckle, causing the others to burst into laughter.
You felt like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water over your head when you overheard their conversations. It felt as though an icy hand wrapped itself around your heart, squeezing it with an unbearable heaviness.
You in fact, gifted him a mug with a garden design, thinking he will like it because it reminds you of him and his name upon seeing it on the store.
With tears slowly well up in your eyes, you look down at your gift, which is wrapped in Tamama design gift wrappers with a cute bow ribbon.
Well, maybe they were right, your choice of gifts was childish.
But you had put so much thought and effort into those gifts, believing that Jungwon would appreciate them. However, it seemed like your gesture had become the subject of ridicule.
You felt as if the world crumbling around you, your heart sinking even deeper as if it had shattered into countless fragments. The thought that Jungwon might be also laughing at your "childish" designs only added to the weight of despair.
Unable to face the humiliation, you quickly turned in your heels and retreated, your footsteps echoing the emptiness in your heart.
Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon, in fact, stood in silence, his usual smile faltered, a hint of offense flickering in his eyes.
"Hey, guys," he spoke up, his voice filled with a strength his friends never heard before. "That gift is special to me. It's different, sure, but it's unique. The person who gifted it to me probably has a reason for choosing a mug, and I appreciate it. It's the thought behind it that counts. So, please, show some respect."
His friends fell silent, stunned by the defense he had just given. Jungwon understood that his friends might not comprehend the deeper meaning behind someone's gift, but he couldn't let them belittle their efforts, especially since how those gifts consistently brightened his day.
You who are still unaware of Jungwon's defense, spent the rest of your day lost in your gloomy thoughts. Your heartache enveloped you like a tight cage, leaving you feeling isolated and alone.
You replayed the scene in your mind over and over, the sting of humiliation and embarrassment refused to subside.
You don't know how you will face Jungwon after all those words.
The idea of facing him, of looking into his eyes and pretending to be casual while those words in the back of your head kept stabbing you like a broken record was unbearable.
As you grappled with your own emotions, the glow of your phone screen caught your attention, announcing the arrival of a new message.
'Hi, Y/n! I might be a little bit late for our study session because of a team meeting ╥ ╥ , but I'll make sure to be there before 6:30 pm so we can have more time to study!'
'As an apology, I'll be bringing snacks~~'
The message from Jungwon illuminated your phone screen, and a mixture of conflicting emotions surged through you.
On the surface, the excitement of an incoming study session and the promise of snacks brought a fleeting smile to your face. However, deep within, a pang of heartache tugged at your insides.
The knot in your stomach tightened, and a lump formed in your throat. Jungwon's innocence, and his kindness, clashed violently with the echoes of humiliation and embarrassment that still pound within you.
The vivid memories of his friends' mockery haunted you, turning the joyous act of giving into a painful reminder of vulnerability.
With a heavy heart, you fabricated an excuse about feeling unwell and unable to attend the tutoring session that day.
It was a lie, one that marked the beginning of a pattern.
The tutor sessions turned into missed opportunities to see him, and the football games became distant scene you chose to avoid.
Jungwon, puzzled by your sudden change in behavior, continued to inquire about your well-being.
Each message from him tugged at your heart, but the walls you created held firm.
His concern was met with vague responses, masking the turmoil within you. The more he reached out, the deeper you delved into your cocoon of self-inflicted solitude.
The peak of this emotional turmoil came when Jungwon sensing your distance.
"Are you okay, Y/n?"
"Is there something wrong?"
"Are you mad at me?"
The lies you spun become more elaborate, the excuses more intricate. You assured him that everything is fine and your not mad at him, that you were just busy, that life had taken unexpected turns.
Jungwon, the patient soul he was, accepted your explanations with a grace that only deepened the ache in your chest.
When he extended an invitation to his high school graduation ceremony, offering you a ticket and a chance to be part of his celebration, you hesitated.
The battle within you raged—the desire to reconnect, to salvage what was left, clashed with the fear of facing the unspoken truths.
In the end, you declined, citing other commitments and responsibilities that seemed to multiply in your made-up reality.
You both slowly grew apart, especially as he moved to another city to pursue his dreams at a different university.
It was a bittersweet decision but for now, you resigned yourself to the knowledge that some chapters must end before new ones can begin.
And though your story with Jungwon may have concluded on a sour note, you refused to close the book entirely, holding on to the faint glimmer of hope that perhaps, someday, your path would cross once more.
©2024 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.
#jungwon x you#jungwon fluff#jungwon x reader#jungwon imagine#enhypen soft thoughts#yang jungwon#demuse writer#jungwon scenarios#enhypen jungwon#jungwon#jungwon imagines#jungwon fic#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon soft hours#yang jungwon x y/n#yang jungwon x you#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#enhypen#enhypen soft hours#enhypen fic#enhypen au#enhypen x you
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can you write a second part to the bangsaz story where its a three some of the two girls and the g!p reader please?
ofcc :3
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6th member of newjeans, pt. 2 뉴진스 ⋆ ˚。⋆
genre: smut, fluff pairing: bbangsaz x gp!reader
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finally, get up promotions almost over! you and the newjeans members officially were one schedule away from a well-deserved break. the 6 of you girls were in busan to film a season two for your reality show.
the missions were divided into two. hyein, haerin, and danielle had the first mission while you, hanni, and minji had the second. the first mission required dani, haerin, and hyein to go into the bustling city and go to various shops. the second mission required you, hanni, and minji to stay at home and do a scavenger hunt.
today was the shooting of the first mission, so that meant you guys could chill for today. you decided to sit on the couch and watch your favorite k-drama. hanni was in the kitchen washing fruits, while minji was in her shared room doing god knows what.
suddenly, minji comes out of her room abruptly. she was in an oversized t-shirt and shorts. minji passes the couch and mumbles a greeting to you before rushing into the kitchen. she probably just wanted to help hanni finish up.. right?
minji’s sudden arrival leaves you feeling a little flustered. you glance up from the TV as she passes by, noticing the way her oversized shirt slips slightly off her shoulder, revealing a tad bit of her skin. her mumbled greeting is soft, almost intimate, and you feel a strange warmth spreading through your chest as she brushes past.
you focus back onto your k-drama, trying to take your mind off of the interaction that happened between you two. you hadn't realized how much time has passed until you saw hanni and minji come out of the kitchen with a fresh bowl of fruit.
hanni places the bowl on the glass table before taking a seat on the couch next to you. minji hesitates at first before sitting on the other side of you. great. you were sandwiched between both of them, and the tension wasn't helping either.
hanni reaches for a piece of fruit, the movement causing her to lean slightly against you. you stiffen, caught between the two of them, your senses overwhelmed. "what are you watching?" minji asks softly, her breath tickling your ear. you struggle to form a response, your mind suddenly going blank. "oh, um, it's.. it's that new drama everyone's been talking about."
while shifting to get more comfortable, hanni's thigh presses against yours. your heart rate quickens as you find yourself overthinking every point of contact between you and your two members. you try to focus on explaining the plot of the drama, but your words come out as mumbles and stutters.
"it's about... um, this girl who..." you trail off as minji leans in closer, her eyes fixed on the screen. "oh, i think i've heard of this one," she murmurs, her shoulder now flush against yours. hanni reaches across you to grab the remote, her arm brushing against your stomach. "can we turn it up a bit? i can barely hear it."
you nod quietly as you squeak out a small "yes". minji shifts, pulling her legs up onto the couch and curling into your side. her head rests on your shoulder, and you can feel her soft breath against your neck. your skin tingles where she touches you, and you struggle to keep your breathing steady.
on your other side, hanni leans back, stretching her arm across the back of the couch behind you. Her fingers accidentally brush against your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. the drama on the TV fades into background noise as your senses focus only on the warmth of their bodies pressed against yours.
"are you okay?" hanni asks, noticing your tension. "you seem a bit.. tense." "i'm fine," you manage to squeak out, your voice higher than usual. minji's hand on your bare skin sends a jolt through your entire body. you gasp softly, your mind reeling at the sudden intimate contact.
her fingers are cool against your warm stomach, and you feel goosebumps rising on your skin. "m-minji," you stammer, unsure how to react. "what are you..." before you can finish your question, hanni's hand comes to rest on your thigh. you turn to look at her, eyes wide with surprise and confusion. hanni hums softly, ingoring your flustered gaze as her thumb traced small circles on your leg.
your heart is racing, and you feel like you can barely breathe. the air in the room seems to have grown thick and heavy. minji's hand slowly trails up your stomach, her touch light but thrilling. you shiver impulsively, your breath catching in your throat. your mind is spinning, trying to process what's happening. well, it's not like this was your first time with the both of them..
minji's other hand comes up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards her. Her eyes are dark with desire as she searches your face. "are you okay?" she asks, trying to find an answer in your dazed expression.
you nod again, unable to find your voice. minji leans in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want. hanni’s hand ghosts over your hard cock, squeezing the base of it when she finally finds it.
minji closes the distance between you, her lips soft and insistent against yours. at the same time, hanni starts to undress herself, starting from her shirt down to her pants.
as minji's lips meet yours, her kiss is gentle at first. she's a bit hesitant, but quickly grows more passionate. your hands find their way to her waist, pulling her closer as you lose yourself in her sensation.
meanwhile, hanni has finished undressing and moves to straddle your lap. her skin is warm against yours as she presses her body against you. she breaks your kiss with minji, turning your face towards her before bringing your lips up with her own.
soon, you find yourself naked between them. the room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing. minji's lips trail down your neck, her teeth grazing your collarbone. meanwhile, hanni's hands explore your upper body, her fingers tracing shapes on your skin.
hanni shifts in your lap, her hips grinding against yours. the friction sends sparks of pleasure through you, and you gasp while your head falls back. minji takes advantage of your untouched neck, her lips working their magic.
"i've missed doing this," hanni whispers. her hand slides down your stomach, lower and lower until she reaches your boxers. she slips her hand inside and wraps her fingers around your length. you gasp at the contact, your hips bucking up automatically. hanni begins to stroke you slowly, touching you teasingly. minji kisses your lips again, swallowing your moans as hanni continues her actions.
suddenly, hanni releases you and stands up. before you can protest the loss of her touch, she's hooking her fingers into the waistband of your boxers, tugging them down. you lift your hips to help her, and soon you're completely bare before them.
minji's eyes roam over your body. she hovers above you, her big breasts covering your vision. hanni starts to grind on your naked cock, her panties causing friction between the both of you. the sensation of hanni grinding against you is almost too much to handle. the thin fabric of her panties provides a lot of friction to drive you crazy, but you weren't satisfied enough.
meanwhile, minji's breasts sway teasingly above you. unable to resist, you lean forward to taking one of her nipples into your mouth. she gasps, her back arching as you swirl your tongue around her sensitive bud. hanni increases her pace, her movements becoming more frantic. you can feel her wetness seeping through her panties, coating your length.
minji threads her fingers through your hair, holding you close to her chest as you focus attention on her breasts. your free hand reaches up to cup her other breast, kneading and groping it gently. the room was filled with moans and curses as the three of you moved together. hanni's grinding became more intense, her hips rolling against yours at a supernatural pace.
your bodies became slick with sweat as you moved together. hanni's movements became extreme, her breath coming and going short gasps. you could tell she was close. "oh god" she moaned, her nails digging into your shoulders. "I'm gonna.. fuck!” she cums all over your cock, the white liquid oozing everywhere. she then decides to get up off of you and let minji feel what she felt.
“my turn.” minji says with a smirk, quickly pulling down your boxers all the way and discarding them. “fuck, your cock is so big.” she says while lining up her entrance with your tip. hanni licked her lips, the scene in front of her making her cunt soaked once more.
minji slowly sinks down onto you, her warmth enveloping you inch by inch. you both moan together as she takes you fully inside her. she pauses for a moment, adjusting to your size, her eyes closed in pleasure. "you feel so good." she breathes, beginning to rock her hips slowly.
you grip her waist, guiding her movements as she rides you. the sight of her above you, her head thrown back in pleasure, is almost too much to handle. you thrust your hips up to meet her, driving yourself deeper into her.
hanni watches with a hungry gaze, her hand slipping between her own legs. she begins to touch herself, her eyes fixed on where you and minji are joined.
minji's pace quickens, her movements becoming more frantic. you can feel her tightening around you, her moans getting louder by the minute. hanni’s hand matches minji’s tempo as she was greedy for her orgasm a second time.
after reaching her orgasm, hanni moved behind minji, her hands coming around to cup minji's bouncing breasts. minji leaned back into her touch, moaning softly as hanni's fingers teased her nipples. “are you going to be a good whore and cum for y/n?” hanni asked. “fuck, yes!” minji exclaims, her euphoria almost at it’s peak. minji cums with one drawn out moan, her lips immediately finding yours.
minji climbs off of your dick, taking her original spot next to you on the couch one more. the k-drama on the TV was still playing, instead having heavy breathing accompanying it.
hanni picks up her phone from the table, deciding to check if she had any texts from the manager or members. she gasps softly, but loud enough so that she was heard.
she looks to you and minji, who were focused on the show and catching your breath. "guys... the members finished filming."
#newjeans#hanni#hanni imagines#hanni x reader#newjeans hanni#newjeans imagines#hanni scenarios#hanni smut#pham hanni#kim minji smut#minji scenarios#minji smut#newjeans minji#minji imagines#minji x reader#kim minji#minji#gxg imagine
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Always there: Hyunjin x Reader x Changbin
Your friend makes you feel bad after a night out at the club, but luckily, you’ve always had Hyunjin and Changbin to comfort you. Or maybe more than that, if that’s what you want. Is that what you want? Content: Smut, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Virgin reader, use of the word 'prude', reader is shamed for being a virgin (not by SKZ), kissing, fingering, oral f! receiving, p in v sex, no mention of using protection WC: 4800
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Saturday mornings are great. After a long and tiring work week, you want nothing more than a day to sleep in and relax, finally letting the stress melt away from your body and mind. When you roll out of bed with a yawn you wobble into the kitchen, ready to make yourself a cup of coffee.
Maybe you would read a book today? Or you could always catch up on that k-drama you’ve been wanting to watch–
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
Strange. That almost sounded like the voice of Hwang Hyunjin, which is impossible, seeing as you just woke up and you live alone. Right?
Wrong.
“Hyunjin, what the fuck are you doing in my house?” You groan as the coffee maker whirs to life, turning around to shoot your best friend a glare. He holds his hands up in mock defense, but your glare is no longer directed at him. It’s at the whistling coming from the bathroom, your bathroom, as Changbin strides out and dries his hands on his pants.
“I’m seriously regretting giving you both a spare set of keys,” you mumble. Your whining goes unheard over Changbin’s shouting.
“Ooh, coffee! Can I have some?”
You have never known true peace. Not since Hyunjin and Changbin came into your life. Though as much as you fake groan and moan, you love them both deeply and unconditionally. Your friends don’t really have a concept of personal space, which is very obvious this morning in particular, but you all know that if you were truly bothered and wanted them to leave, they would. You don’t ask them to. You are slightly more aware of your unruly appearance, bedhead and long t-shirt that covers your legs and lack of pants, so you walk back into your room and throw on a pair of sweats.
Once your coffee is retrieved, you lay lazily on the couch and turn on the TV. Your legs are stretched out across Hyunjin and your back is leaning against Changbin.
“You guys are so annoying,” you grumble. You sip idly out of your mug and let out a sigh, melting in between the two men.
“You’re awfully snappy today,” Hyunjin says with a laugh. “Besides, you know you love us.”
“I’m snappy because you buffoons decided to invade my home on my day off,” you say with petulance. You all know you don’t really mean your words though, so after a loud and dramatic sigh the topic is all but forgotten.
Until your friend calls.
“Shit,” you curse under your breath.
“Why is Cheryl calling you?” Hyunjin asks, leaning over to peak at your phone.
“Ugh, we had plans tonight. I completely forgot,” you say, swiping to answer her call.
“Hey girl! We still on for tonight? I really want to go to the club, and Brad said he was going to be there!”
You stifle back a groan before replying: “I don’t know…” You were being honest. Partying has never really been your forte, as much as your friend has tried to push you outside of your comfort zone… it has been a long week and you wanted nothing more than to laze around with Hyunjin and Changbin.
“C’mon! You never go out with me. This is why you still haven’t lost your virginity yet.” You stiffen at her words, letting out a soft chuckle and avoiding looking over at your friends, the ones that you know heard her judgmental words.
“Um.. yeah, sure! I’ll be there,” you finally stammer. Fuck. You really didn’t want to go but you did want to end this phone call. So that’s what you did. Finally bringing yourself to look at your friends, you give them an awkward smile.
“So… I’m going out with Cheryl tonight.”
“We gathered,” Hyunjin laughs. This time you don’t suppress the groan that tumbles out of your mouth.
“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Changbin says. You shoot him a nasty glare that he definitely doesn’t deserve.
“Well, Cheryl is kind of the worst,” Hyunjin agrees with you, though you’re not surprised. He’s never hidden his distaste for your other friend, and he has always been dramatic.
Listening to Hyunjin and Changbin decide if you should go out tonight was much like listening to the angel and the devil on your shoulder… Hyunjin’s protests of how you should just stay in and forget that bitch, versus Changbin’s gentle persuasion of how it’s been a long time since you’ve let yourself let go.
You take Changbin’s advice. And the boys don’t leave the house as you get ready, instead hooting and hollering when you walk out of your room in a little black dress, hair and makeup perfected. You smile sheepishly and try not to blush, but you’re used to their antics by now. When Cheryl comes to pick you up, Hyunjin stands behind you at your door, trying to comfort your nerves.
“Have fun tonight,” he says, rubbing soothing circles into your back before bringing you into an embrace from behind. He rests his head on your shoulder. “Don’t let Cheryl convince you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, yeah?” It’s unspoken what he means, and you wonder if he’s referencing your conversation with Cheryl from earlier before you’re being pushed out the door.
Smoothing your dress, you plaster a fake smile over your face before greeting your friend who is so excited about the evening.
***
You should have listened to Hyunjin.
That’s your first thought as Cheryl drags you into the club. It’s immediately apparent that she doesn’t really have interest in hanging out with you, and that she would much rather cling to her new situationship, Brad. Ugh. You needed a drink.
You do just that, ordering yourself an alcoholic beverage of choice. As you are sitting at the bar, occasionally glancing over at Cheryl, you see some other guy walk up to her and start chatting idly. You have no particular investment in the conversation until you hear her say, “But my friend Y/N is single!” Oh no. No no no.
She always did this. You’re not even sure why you agreed to hang out with her anymore. Maybe because you’re a pushover? You can’t help but wish that Hyunjin and Changbin were here to rescue you from this situation. The thought makes you laugh, knowing that Changbin would try to radiate an intimidating energy to get guys to back off and Hyunjin would cling to you dramatically.
“Hey, pretty girl.” The man approaches and takes the seat on your other side. Taking a deep breath, you turn and give him an awkward smile, already thinking of ways you can turn him down gently.
“Hi,” you respond, staring at your drink. The man immediately starts talking. His name is Drew, he’s like 10 years older than you, and he really likes golfing. You nod politely, but after 10 minutes you realize you haven’t even been able to get a single word in. This guy doesn’t really care about you, you realize, he just wants to hear himself talk.
“Excuse me,” you say, standing up. Drew shoots you a nasty look but dismisses you nonetheless, finding someone else to talk to that hopefully cares more than you do.
“Cheryl,” you say, trying to get your friend’s attention. She’s making out with Brad. Just great. “Cheryl!” You say it again, louder, touching her shoulder in the process.
“What?” She snaps, shooting you a dirty look.
“I want to leave.”
She scoffs at you. “You always do this,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“I don’t care, I’m sorry. I just really want to leave.” “I tried hooking you up with someone! Can’t you just leave with whatever-his-name?”
“I don’t want to leave with Drew,” you respond bluntly.
“Ugh. Can you stop being such a prude? This is why you’re still a virgin.” She turns over to Brad and laughs with him. They’re laughing at you. For not going home and hooking up with a man 10 years older than you. You feel tears prickling in your eyes, being the target of a joke everyone seems to understand but you. Wordlessly, you shoot your friend the nastiest glare you can accomplish in the moment and leave.
You start walking before you can really think. It’s dark outside and cold, and you don’t really know where you are. Cheryl drove, of course. You can’t help but think that the whole night has been one big mistake. Sighing, you take out your phone and text your group chat, knowing exactly who would come and help you in a time like this.
Y/N Starting sharing their location
Y/N: Hey can someone come pick me up
Binnie: 👍 Hyunjinnie: On my way!
You slump against the cold concrete, letting yourself cry a little bit. Sure, you ruin your pretty makeup that you spent so long on, but who the fuck cares at this point? Wiping your eyes, you see a familiar black car pull up. Before you can stand, Changbin is already getting out of the car.
“Are you okay? What happened?” He pulls you to your feet, examining you for any signs of injury. You look at him, lip trembling, but when your eyes meet you can’t help the sobs that escape. “Oh, sweetheart,” he says, pulling you into a big hug. He’s warm, and you can smell the musky scent of his cologne from here. You let it comfort you before pulling away.
“Can we just go home?” You ask.
“Of course,” he says, opening the car door for you to get in. Hyunjin shoots you a worried glance from the driver’s seat, and you give him a pathetic smile.
You notice when Changbin starts playing your favorite songs in an attempt to cheer you up, and admittedly you already feel better, though you don’t speak a word for the rest of the drive.
***
When you finally arrive in your apartment, you’re not surprised when Changbin and Hyunjin follow you in. You let out a loud sigh and face the two men looking at you expectantly.
“It went just about as I expected,” you said with a dry laugh. When neither of your friends say anything, you start speaking. The words come out faster than you’d like and you know that you’re word vomiting, but it’s fine. They were used to it by now. “Cheryl was dismissive the whole night and tried to set me up with this guy she had just met, he was like, 10 years older than me and he kind of gave me the creeps… and when I told her I wanted to leave she told me to just go home with him.” You take a deep breath, gauging their reactions. “When I told her no, she called me a virgin prude and laughed at me, so I left.”
The look of anger immediately spread on their faces and you found your own heating up from embarrassment. You looked down out at the ground, willing the tears that pricked at your lash line to go away.
“Y/N…” Changbin’s gentle voice soothed you and you immediately fell into his embrace. You spare a glance at Hyunjin and know that he’s absolutely furious. You wince.
“How dare she,” he starts. Changbin gives him a warning glare and tightens his grip on you.
Pulling away, you tuck your hair behind your ears and look at them sheepishly.
“Maybe she’s right,” you laugh. “Maybe I should’ve just gone home with some random guy. Maybe I should’ve just lost my virginity and gotten it over with.”
“Don’t say that.” It’s Changbin’s stern voice this time that pulls you out of your thoughts.
“But–”
“No,” they say in unison.
“It’s just… everybody else seems to be okay with going out, partying, loosening up, sleeping with people, and then there’s me.”
“Y/N… there’s a reason why you haven’t… slept with anyone yet, right?” Changbin asks. Hyunjin looks at you expectantly.
“I mean, of course. I was waiting for the right person.”
“So you’ve suddenly changed your mind?” Changbin says softly.
“No, but there’s no right person, Changbin. I don’t know what I’m waiting for anymore, because there’s never going to be that perfect person. I’m never going to be enough—“
“That’s not true,” Hyunjin says sternly. You give him an exasperated glare and turn around toward your room.
“Is there something you’re seeing that I’m not? Because as far as I can tell, that’s the exact truth and you know it.”
“You don’t have to sleep with anybody just because she’s pushing you to. She’s putting a lot of pressure on you and that makes her a bad friend,” Hyunjin says. “Virginity is a stupid, made up concept anyway. Don’t do it if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to, though!” You say, exasperated. “I just want to see what everybody else sees. Maybe I don’t want to fuck around, but I want to have sex!”
Before you know it you’re pushed up against the wall by Hyunjin, his head buried in your neck and his breathing heavy as if he were trying to control himself. His actions make you dizzy and your breath hitches from his contact on your skin.
“Hyune—“
“We could help.”
“What?” Your stomach drops and your breathing increases at his implications. You’re sure you misheard him.
“We could help you, if you want. You’re more than enough to us, and you should know that. Sleeping with us won’t change that, or make it any more true, but if you want to do it that badly, we’re right here.”
You gulp. “You mean both of you…? At the same time?” You allow yourself to look at Changbin who is standing with his arms crossed and his eyes dark.
“If you’re comfortable with that, yeah,” Changbin nods, meeting your eyes before looking away.
“You should want to do it for the first time with someone who really cares for you,” Hyunjin explains. His hands take place on your hips and start to rub small circles and you find yourself arching into him, already seeking his touch. “Not some random guy at the bar whose name you don’t know and won’t even try to make you cum.” You gasp slightly and Hyunjin smirks, his breath hot against your neck. Changbin lessens the space between you and finds himself at your side, mindlessly brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“And we really care for you,” Changbin adds. You nod at his words as Hyunjin starts to nip at your skin, letting his tongue trace circles until he finds the spots that make you breathless.
“What… if I’m really bad?” You stutter.
“You don’t have to worry about that. We’ll show you how to do everything… make you feel good. Plus, it’s just us…” Changbin leans in and makes contact with your lips. The kiss is chaste, testing the waters, though you let out a small moan against him. When he smiles against your kiss you smile as well. Alright. You can do this. It’s just Changbin and Hyunjin. You’ve known them forever and you do trust them more than anything, even if they do annoy you and break into your house on your day off.
“Okay,” you say with a shaky breath.
“Yeah?” Hyunjin licks a thick stripe up your neck which makes you hiss, quickly swallowed up when Changbin leans in to kiss you again.
“Yeah.”
You walk to your bedroom and lead the way and even though they had been inside hundreds of times before, this felt different. The air was permeated with the thick scent of desire. You sit on your bed, looking at the floor. “Now what?”
Changbin sits down in front of you, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “Now you relax and let us make you feel good, okay? You can tell us what you like and what you don’t like, and anytime you want us to stop we will. Immediately. Does that sound good?”
You nod your head, your skin becoming flushed.
“Words, baby.” You don’t admit how those words make your heart jump right out of your chest.
“Right. Yes. Okay.”
Hyunjin sits on the bed next to you and you tilt your head to look at him. He starts by grabbing your hair and pulling you into him to meet his lips, and this time the kiss is hot and full of both desire and anticipation of what is to come.
Meanwhile, Changbin’s hands have come up to touch your thighs. You’re still wearing your dress from your night out so you’re more exposed to him than you usually would be. His large hands touch the insides of your thighs and you don’t even realize that you’re squeezing them together until he is pulling them apart, gently but with intent. His thumbs draw circles on the insides, watching the way you react to each movement.
You let out a breath into the kiss which Hyunjin takes as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, allowing himself the opportunity to swirl his tongue against yours.
When Changbin’s fingers finally make their way to your clothed core you let out a moan. You can’t help it. His two fingers slide up and down the fabric that’s already wet, though he focuses on bringing attention right to your clit. You buck your hips up into his hand.
“So needy,” Hyunjin laughs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Breathlessly you look at him in the eyes and turn away, embarrassed.
His fingers make their way to your chin, turning your head to meet his gaze again.
“It’s a good thing,” he says. “You don’t need to hide. Not from us.” With that, he pulls down the front of your dress, revealing your tits to him. He doesn’t break eye contact when his thumbs start to graze over your nipples in soft circles, teasing.
“Baby, can I take these off?” Changbin asks, his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear. You nod your head vigorously, letting out a soft chuckle from both of the men at your eagerness. When you lift your hips Changbin slides the material off of your legs, now discarded somewhere across the room.
The breath he lets out when he looks at your glistening core leaves you dizzy. “So pretty,” he all but whispers. “Just for us.” He wastes no time before touching you again with purpose. When one of his fingers teases your entrance you realize you’re already a writhing pathetic mess for them. He dips his finger into your entrance shallowly, collecting your wetness before taking it and circling it right back to your clit. Hyunjin continues his ministrations as well, thumbing your sensitive nipples while leaving wet kisses across your neck and face.
“You’re doing so good for us,” he whispers against your ear. You whimper. Your eyes are screwed shut, focused on all of the sensations on your body so you don’t even realize it when Changbin’s tongue makes direct contact with your clit, warm and wet. You gasp and lurch forward at the contact.
“What’re you doing?” you moan. “Oh my God, Changbin, what–?”
“It’s okay, I got you baby. I got you.” His tongue flicks up and down against you, and when he pushes his tongue flat against your clit and you feel his warm breath on your entrance, you finally hear the filthy sounds that are coming out of your own mouth. You try to muffle them with your arm but it’s quickly pulled away.
“Don’t,” Hyunjin says. “Let us hear you. Let us hear how good we’re making you feel.”
“It’s so good… Bin… Please don’t stop,” you plead, eyes meeting his from where he sits between your legs.
His finger starts thrusting in and out of your core at the same time Hyunjin’s lips meet your nipple, tongue flicking across one bud while his hand comes to pinch the other. It feels like a well-orchestrated plan plotted against you, you think. You’re babbling now about how close you are and your hand intertwines in Changbin’s hair. You buck your hips up against his mouth, trying to ride out your release and he lets you use his face for your pleasure happily. When he curls his one finger inside you harshly you cum, pulsing tightly on his digit.
You have half the mind to apologize for being so rough and caught up in the moment, but when you finally open your eyes you gasp. Changbin looks at you with all lust and desire and dark eyes, absolutely entranced by you and with your release completely covering his mouth. When Hyunjin comes off of you with a pop he looks quite similar, and it surprises all of you when you initiate the kiss this time, immediately open mouthed and trying to get as much of him as you can.
“Slow down, slow down,” he says with a shallow breath, pushing you away. “Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?”
“Yes, please,” you whine. “I need someone inside of me. Please.” They both gulp, but Hyunjin quickly regains his composure.
“You want just anybody inside you, hmm?” He teases.
“Not just anyone… You, Hyune. Then Changbin. I can take it, please.” They both groan.
“You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” Hyunjin laughs. He helps you out of your dress completely now and it drops to the floor. You now stare completely bare in front of your friends and you think about covering yourself up but it seems they know you better when a hand reaches for your wrist to stop the motion. The words remain unspoken this time, but you know, not in front of them do you need to hide yourself.
Changbin pushes you down gently to lay down on the bed and he lays on his side next to you. The way he stares at you almost makes you queasy, because you know deep down it’s not just lust and desire, but something more… The need to be with you, to see you, for you to be his implicitly. You wonder if he knows that you already are. That you’ve already belonged to them for the longest time. You kiss him and he kisses you back.
In front of you, Hyunjin pulls down his pants. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and try not to let yourself become intimidated. He strokes himself a few times before he positions himself at your entrance. He looks at you, waiting for permission.
“Go ahead, Hyunjin. Please.” Your words are soft but you know he’s heard you when his tip breaches your entrance. It’s already a bit of a stretch and you take a deep breath, tilting your head back. Changbin rubs circles into your arm to soothe you and you find that it works. Hyunjin shallowly thrusts out and then back in, allowing himself to get just a bit deeper. He slowly repeats the action until he’s flush against you, his hips meeting yours. The feeling is foreign but not painful, you decide.
You watch Changbin lick his finger and then move it down to your clit, gently applying pressure. While Hyunjin hasn’t started moving yet, this allows you to relax a little bit more and your brain decides suddenly that it feels really good.
“You’re doing so good for us,” Changbin says, repeating Hyunjin’s words from earlier.
“S’good,” Hyunjin agrees. “Such a good pussy. You feel so good around me, love.” He starts to thrust now, though slow and gentle, and you start moaning. It feels different than anything you’d ever experienced before, though you know you really like it.
“Faster,” you say. Hyunjin follows your directions instantly, watching and scrutinizing every reaction you make to ensure it’s completely pleasurable for you. Changbin’s hands are all over your body, grounding you; his hands rub up and down your arms and your tits, touching any area of skin accessible to him.
Your hips start to buck up to meet Hyunjin’s. You’re getting close, you realize, though when Hyunjin picks up your legs and puts them over his shoulder, you gasp. He’s now reaching impossibly deeper inside you, and at this angle he’s able to completely control the pace. He hits that gummy spot deep inside you, one that you had never achieved reaching yourself before, and when he hits it your orgasm washes over you without warning.
You cum with a cry, pulsing tightly around his cock. His moans are louder and you can tell he’s getting closer too but he fucks you through your orgasm. As your breathing steadies he pulls out of you and releases all over your stomach and you watch in awe.
Taking two fingers, you scoop up his release and put it in your mouth, sucking it off your fingers. The two men groan at your actions which makes you smirk.
“Changbin?” You ask, beckoning the man.
“Are you sure, baby?” He asks, looking into your eyes for any signs of discomfort.
“Want you too,” you say. It’s Hyunjin’s turn to slump next to you and he does so, wrapping his arms around you while Changbin takes his position.
When Changbin pushes into you you let out an unabashed moan, pushing yourself into Hyunjin’s chest to ground yourself. He shushes you and combs his fingers through your hair. The stretch is different this time, as Changbin’s thicker but Hyunjin is longer.
“Feels good, Binnie,” you say.
“I know,” he responds. “I got you. Let me take over, okay?” And he does, at first cautious of his pace to not hurt you, but he soon follows up with a brutal pace that has your head spinning. He feels delicious inside of you just like Hyunjin did, and when you get close this time you don’t feel embarrassed by the loud sounds that come out of your body. You’re so close to your peak, almost there… when Changbin pulls out. You make a sound that comes out as a whine, but before you can complain further you’re flipped onto your hands and knees.
Changbin teases his cock up and down your wet slit, sensitive and already so close to an orgasm, and the sound you make is downright pathetic.
“You want it?” Changbin teases.
“Oh my God, please… Changbin please, I was so close, don’t tease,” you beg. Hyunjin practically coos and his lips meet yours right as Changbin sinks back into you. You feel delirious from the pleasure and it doesn’t take long before you cum again. Hyunjin’s kisses drink up all of the moans and breaths that come from your body as Changbin pounds into you.
Changbin and Hyunjin spit praise at you as you finish, and shortly after you feel Changbin’s release all over your ass. You slump onto the bed, tired, and welcome Hyunjin’s arms around your frame. You nuzzle deeper into his embrace, entirely content. You barely register when Changbin comes to clean you off and then lays next to you. You’re in between your two favorite people in the entire world, completely safe and content. You let out a happy sigh.
“Did you have a good time?” Changbin questions. You almost laugh.
“Of course I did. I couldn’t imagine a better first time. Thank you… Thank you both.”
“Do you think you’ll regret it?” Hyunjin asks.
“No. Never.” You look at his worried gaze and press a firm kiss to his lips. You’re satisfied laying between the two men, relishing their soft touches and warm embraces when you have a thought that makes you laugh.
“Cheryl is going to be thrilled,” you say with an eye roll.
Hyunjin groans. “God. Don’t tell her. She doesn’t deserve to know. In fact, you should block her,” he reasons.
“Yeah. She’s kind of a bitch,” Changbin agrees. You and Hyunjin look at him wide-eyed, not used to him talking about other people like that. Then all three of you laugh. You look at Changbin and can tell that there’s something else that he wants to say.
“I don’t want you to do this with anybody else,” he says with a deep sigh. “I want it to be us. Just me and Hyunjin. I don’t want anybody else to see you this way.” His words carry a deeper meaning and you know it. You bury your head into his chest and Hyunjin’s arms wrap around your waist.
“I love you both. Do you know that?” You say. You’ve told them a hundred times, but the words needed to be said again. Albeit they are now said in a much more intimate context, you will let them interpret it however they want. They both hum in agreement, repeating the words back to you.
You’re not sure what this meant for your friendships or your relationships, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not now. The three of you fall asleep in your bed that night in an entanglement of arms and limbs, and you sleep peacefully knowing that no matter what, they would be there for you when you wake up. They have always been there, and they always will be. *** A/N: I'm excited to announce that this is part 1/4 of a SKZ threesome series with various members ;) I have big things planned
Masterlist Recs
#skz#skz smut#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids x you#hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin stray kids#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#seo changbin#changbin#changbin x reader#skz scenarios#changbin stray kids#kpop x reader#kpop#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic
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Shadows Behind Shelves (PART 1)
SUMMARY | You, a literature professor turned governess, is settling into your role at the Jeong castle and developing feelings for both the lord, Yunho, and his cousin, Jongho. You soon learn that the castle is haunted by a spirit who desires to be resurrected and take over your body.
PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Jongho
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+
GENRE | Smut, historical fantasy au, paranormal, dark academia, fluff, angst, drama
CONTENT/WARNINGS | mentions of death/curses/resurrection, a creepy ghost, fingering, clothes ripping, oral sex, unprotective sex (wrap it up!), lovemaking instead of fucking (more to come in part 2)
LENGTH | 15,012 words
TAGLIST | --
NETWORKS | @ksmutsociety @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork
AUTHOR’S NOTE | Soooooooo… This is for @ksmutsociety network's The Velvet Vault event! I'm looking forward to reading all the participant's fics since we all worked so hard for this. It was nice to work with everyone and hype each other and exchange ideas. Love you folks!
Here's part 1 of this 2-part fic lol. It was getting too long (and the brain stopped braining at some point). I hope it's engaging enough that you return for part 2, which is in the works! And yes, more smut in part 2 (for Jongho and maybe a threesome LOL)
Thank you @cheolism for the beautiful banner, @hobeemin for the amazing moodboard (below) to keep my inspo in check and @lovetaroandtaemin for the beta-read as always! You guys are amazing folk!
Please like, comment, reblog. I love you all 💚
“Well, I’m finally here,” you mutter as you look at the enormous castle that looms overhead.
You had been traveling to get here for some time and your body ached from the long journey. However, now that you were in the presence of the magnificent building, you felt like you couldn’t stop and rest just yet. You thought it was weird when a reclusive lord wrote to you, a professor at a prestigious university, and requested that you be his children’s governess. He must’ve thought you were qualified because you were a literature professor and had read a lot of books, which were important for teaching children. However, there were no references, and no one had heard of the family or this lord that was writing the letter. Yet, you decided to take the job for your own personal reasons.
You were leaving your life from the modern world and everything that was associated with it.
It wasn’t hard for you to leave everything behind. You didn’t have friends, and no one would come to look for you if you disappeared. When you were not teaching students, you spent your life in the company of books. They were the only thing that made you happy and the only things that had stayed constant throughout your life. That was the main reason you agreed to work for this strange lord, because you had heard that his castle was filled with the greatest works of literature.
As you approached the front doors, you noticed how the windows were dark, no light was coming through. Was everyone asleep? The castle seemed eerie in the night, and you had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. You tried to shake those feelings away, knowing that this was not the time to get spooked. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep.
Upon arriving at the front door, you knocked and patiently awaited a response. Your heart raced, anticipation gnawing at you. After no one answered, you tried again, knocking louder this time. You wouldn’t have traveled this far without wanting an answer. On the verge of quitting and finding rest, the door, as if beckoning, slowly opened, urging you to enter. You paused, torn between entering and leaving, ultimately deciding that it was rude to depart without a word.
“Hello, is anyone home?” You shouted as you walked inside, hoping someone would answer.
No one came to greet you, but the sound of the wind echoed in the empty halls. There was no need to be scared. You were hardly scared of things that you didn’t understand, but this place had an air of mystery that made you uneasy. It felt like there was someone else in the house, watching your every move. The only lights came from the torches along the wall, but their light did little to ease the darkness.
“Lord Jeong, are you here?” You called out. You knew it was late, and he might be asleep, but you needed someone to answer you. “My name is Y/N. I am the new governess that you hired.”
Again, no one answered you, and you felt a chill run down your spine. You had hoped that someone would’ve met you, but the lack of answers and the emptiness of the castle made you uneasy. You made your way down the hall to see if there was anyone awake. Maybe the servants were still awake, doing last-minute chores before going to bed. You hoped to find someone that could tell you where you could sleep.
You didn’t have a plan or anywhere else to go.
As you walked through the hallways, you noticed how the walls were lined with portraits. The people in the paintings all looked so beautiful, even if they were old and dust had covered their faces. However, it was odd that the portraits seemed to stretch out endlessly, even though the hallway was not very long. You thought about wiping the dust off to see the faces, but you decided not to since they were not yours.
Your eyes wandered down and saw the many artifacts that were also lined up on the walls. There were old swords, shields, and even some strange-looking guns. As a literature professor, you couldn’t help but be curious about what those weapons were used for. The stories of these things would make for interesting research.
You were so distracted by the many relics on the walls that you didn’t notice a figure moving swiftly towards you until it was too late. Something cold grabbed onto your arm and you turned to see a pale hand gripping you. You screamed and tried to break free, but the grip was so strong, it was almost as if it was draining the life from your body. You turned and saw the face of a beautiful man, who looked at you with wide eyes.
“You’re not supposed to be here. The doors should’ve been locked,” he said, his voice raspy and low. He had a stern face, his sharp eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. He wore a fancy suit and looked to be in his late twenties, but his age didn’t match his youthful features.
“I-I’m sorry! I’m the new governess, and the doors just opened by themselves!” You cried.
The man let go of you and you stepped back, trying to get away from him. You could tell that he was the master of the house, and you didn’t want to anger him. You were not the kind of person to yell at others, especially your employer, but his sudden appearance and tight grip were enough to make anyone lose their composure.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m Jeong Yunho, the lord of the castle,” he apologized, his face softening. He seemed to be the kind of person who didn’t speak often, and you found his voice comforting. “It is very late, and I was just startled. I didn’t expect anyone to come to the door at this hour. Please, forgive me for frightening you.”
“It’s fine. I am just a little shaken up,” you said, trying to calm down. You didn’t want to admit it, but his sudden appearance had frightened you. And that said a lot since you were scarcely afraid of anything.
“Come, let’s get you settled,” he gestured to follow him. “I will take you to your room.”
You followed him, still wondering what had just happened. The house was dark, no light was coming from the rooms. You wondered why the lord would keep the lights off at this hour. You also noticed how silent it was. There were no voices, no sounds at all. You didn’t think you had traveled far enough for this place to be abandoned, but it certainly felt that way.
Yunho stopped at a door and opened it. “This will be your room while you are here.”
The room was very elegant, decorated in various shades of blue. There was a large four-poster bed with a canopy, a dresser, a vanity, and a bookshelf. The shelves were full of books, just like the ones you had read. You were relieved to know that there would be something familiar for you to do.
“Please get some sleep,” Yunho nodded at you slowly. “Tomorrow we’ll tour the castle and introduce you to the staff and the children.”
“Thank you, Lord Jeong. Goodnight,” you curtsied and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.
You were exhausted, so you quickly took off your shoes and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft and smelled nice, like fresh laundry. It had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep. As you lay there, you thought about the castle, the servants, and the children. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.
As you drifted off to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard the sound of whispering, as if the voices were coming from the walls themselves.
The next morning, you woke up early, eager to start the day. The first thing you did was get dressed and head downstairs to the dining hall. When you arrived, the servants were already bustling around, preparing the table and setting out the food. They were all wearing the same outfit: black uniforms with white aprons, their hair neatly combed back.
The table was set, and you sat down, waiting for the rest of the household to arrive. Soon, you were joined by Yunho, who greeted you politely. The man was dressed in a black suit, and his hair was perfectly styled. He looked so regal, but his face was emotionless, his mouth pulled into a straight line. He had dark circles under his eyes, making him look older than he was.
“Good morning, Miss Y/N. How are you feeling?” He asked. His voice was deep and commanding, but there was no hint of malice in it.
“Good morning, Lord Jeong. I’m well,” you answered. “Is the rest of the household going to join us?”
“They are busy with their own duties,” Yunho responded. “We will tour the castle later today, but I would like to discuss the duties you will have while you are here. First, your primary task will be the education and care of the children. They have not had a governess for a few months and they are at the age where they should learn and be educated.”
“Of course. As a professor of the literary arts, I will make sure to teach them everything they need to know,” you responded. You were excited to have a chance to teach someone, especially young minds. “Will I also be in charge of their daily routines?”
“Yes, their daily routine and their discipline as well,” he continued. “You will have your own schedule and free time, so do not feel as if you are confined to this castle. You are welcome to go out and explore the town or the grounds. There are plenty of beautiful places for you to see. In the meantime, the staff will continue their duties and will help you with anything you need. If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”
“I will, thank you, Lord Jeong,” you said, trying not to let the excitement show in your voice.
“Just call me Yunho,” he said, his face softening a bit.
“Yunho,” you said, testing his name out. You liked the way it sounded.
“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin the tour,” he stood up and led you out of the dining room.
As the two of you walked through the halls, Yunho pointed out different rooms, explaining what they were used for. You saw a drawing room, a sitting room, a parlor, and even a billiard room. There were other rooms as well, but you couldn’t remember what they were. You tried to listen carefully to everything that Yunho was telling you, but your mind was elsewhere. The castle was so grand, and the interior was so intricate.
You had never seen anything like it.
You were shown the ballroom, a music room, and even an observatory. Everything was so grand and it all overwhelmed you. Yunho told you more about his family and the history of the castle.
You learned that the castle had been built a hundred years ago, when Yunho’s ancestors had moved to this land. The estate had been passed down through generations and was the source of pride for the Jeongs. However, the family had lost many members, and the last one was Yunho’s late wife.
“And this is the grand library,” Yunho said, standing in front of the double doors. The doors were massive, carved with intricate designs. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them.
“I can’t wait to see what’s inside,” you said, stepping forward and grabbing the handle.
“No!” Yunho yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling it away from the door. “No one is allowed in the grand library.”
“Why not?” You asked, confused. You were curious about the books and wanted to explore the grand library.
“Those books are too dangerous. They are filled with stories and tales that could corrupt the mind and the soul,” Yunho replied, his tone serious. “They are the reason my late wife is dead.”
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could books be dangerous? You knew there were some books that could be scary, but those were fiction. These were books, not demons or monsters. You didn’t understand why they were kept locked away.
“Please, Miss Y/N. Don’t ask me to open the doors. I’ve lost too much already,” Yunho begged. His eyes were pleading with you.
You didn’t know what to do. You were a scholar of literature, and the idea of being banned from reading books was painful. It was in your nature to be curious, and you wanted to find out why the library was locked. But you didn’t want to upset Yunho or lose the job that you haven’t even started yet.
“There is a smaller library for you to use with the children,” Yunho assured you. “You can read anything in there. Just please, don’t ask me to open these doors again.”
You nodded your head in understanding, and Yunho seemed to relax. You wished you could’ve said something, but it was pointless to argue with him. The mystery of the grand library would remain unknown to you. Still, your mind raced with curiosity. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to see the forbidden books. Perhaps it was because you were a scholar, but you needed to understand. You needed to learn the truth, no matter what the cost.
“Thank you, Yunho. I will keep your advice in mind,” you replied. Your heart raced with thoughts about the library and the possibility of learning the secrets that were hidden behind those doors. As long as you were here, there would be no escaping the desire to learn more. You knew that would get you into trouble someday. That was just a part of who you were.
After finishing the tour, Yunho led you to the children who were outside in the courtyard playing. As you neared the children, you noticed a man in casual clothes who appeared to be a groundskeeper or something of the sort. You noted his appearance, thinking he looked handsome. As you and Yunho entered the courtyard, the children came running to greet him, calling out ‘Daddy!’. Despite his age, Yunho lifted all three children as they tried to hug him and spin them around in his arms. His gaze softened as he embraced each child. His stern demeanor was nowhere to be seen.
When he put them down, Yunho introduced you as the new governess. The children hid behind their father, whispering to him about how pretty you were. You giggled slightly, finding their reaction endearing, and it made you less nervous about taking the job. Yunho chastised the children, and they soon came out of their hiding, shyly offering you their introductions. Yunho introduced you first to his son, Yujin, who had turned five, then to his daughters, four-year-old Suyeon and three-year-old Sujin. You kneeled and greeted them politely. The children immediately attached themselves to you, clutching to you and introducing themselves. While this wasn’t a simple task for you as someone new, you could feel their excitement as they began to speak to you about their interests and their favorite toys.
Yunho sent them off to play once more after confirming when their lessons would start the following morning. The man you assumed to be a groundskeeper watched the interaction between you, the kids, and Yunho. As the children ran off and resumed their playing, the young man stepped forward, offering you a friendly smile. You watched curiously, noticing his youthful appearance. He couldn’t have been that much older than yourself.
“Welcome, miss,” he said. “I’m Choi Jongho, the lord’s cousin and the groundskeeper here. Though I help out with other matters within the castle as well.”
“Nice to meet you, Jongho,” you smiled, extending a hand out which the young man took firmly, shaking it. You couldn’t imagine that a man of his age could maintain a property as extensive as the Jeong castle. “I hope we will get to spend some time together since I’m the new governess for the Jeong children. Are you their only groundskeeper?”
Jongho released your hand with a small chuckle. “I suppose I am. It’s not a simple job, but someone has to take care of things here, am I right? Besides, the estate means everything to Mr. Jeong, and I care deeply about it as well. He trusts me fully, and that’s a blessing.”
The young man’s tone was genuine and laced with kindness. Jongho carried himself with an ease that reassured you as well. Something about the young man felt safe.
“He’s very nice and has already been treating me quite well,” you mentioned as Yunho joined you two, the children having returned to their previous activities, oblivious to the world around them.
“The staff here all admire and respect Lord Yunho, as he deserves,” Jongho said. “The children are fortunate to have a father so dedicated to them.”
You glanced at the lord who held a similar expression to Jongho, the two staring back at the children, no doubt sharing the same thoughts. You would be lying if you didn’t admit the warmth spreading in your chest from the image. Yunho was gentle with the children, and it made you feel good about taking the job despite the secrets locked within the castle. You still didn’t quite understand what the books could contain, but chose to ignore the curiosity for the time being. Yunho already trusted you enough to open up, revealing some of his past, even if it did spark more questions than answers.
The three of you remained in the courtyard watching the children until they came running toward you again, nearly jumping into their father’s arms. Yunho spun them in circles before lifting Sujin and carrying her back towards the house.
“I better start getting Sujin cleaned for her supper,” he said to the remaining party. “Come on, children.”
Sujin was quick to wiggle in her father’s grasp, as she clearly wanted to walk. “Papa! Down!” she giggled as Yunho lowered her and followed her and the children back inside the castle.
Jongho and you watched as the Jeongs walked off, chuckling slightly in the wake of the energetic kids and Yunho. When Yunho’s silhouette had disappeared, you looked back at Jongho with a bright smile on your face, admiring how the sun hit his skin to accentuate his handsome features. The young man was incredibly attractive, and you hoped you’d get to spend more time with him while working at the castle.
“Well then,” Jongho rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shifted his stance, “I will go back to tending the grounds. If you need me for anything, you just have to ask. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Y/N. I really hope we get to spend some time together in the future. Take care of yourself.”
Before you had the chance to respond, Jongho placed his hat on his head and promptly headed for the gardens. There was a skip in his steps, something you couldn’t help but notice as you watched him make his way through the expansive yard. For a man that was around your age and appearance, you expected him to be a little less excited about his chores and duties, especially given the size and maintenance requirements. You almost expected him to have complained a little about being a servant, but he didn’t appear to have any issue with it. This intrigued you even more, giving you reason to pay him more attention in the coming days.
As the last rays of sunlight faded, the maids began setting tables for dinner. With Yunho preoccupied with the children and Jongho busy elsewhere, you decided to explore the grounds for some fresh air. The castle grounds were spacious, and it was important to take some time to explore the vast space. Besides, if you were going to be staying at the castle for some time, it was good to familiarize yourself with everything. You didn’t want to get lost in the castle, since you would no doubt become easily disoriented among the winding halls. The grounds also would be the best place to familiarize yourself. You should have started earlier since now the sun was fading and darkness was settling into place. You hoped to be back within an hour as dinnertime was approaching fast.
Despite the castle being eerily ominous and quite frightening when you saw it last night, it looked gorgeous bathed in sunlight during the day. You couldn’t resist letting your imagination roam about as you strolled around the premises. You imagined a heroine escaping through the open space while wearing a beautiful silk dress. You envisioned her making her way across a stone pathway and into an emerald garden filled with vivid plants and flowers. This reminded you that the castle did seem out of place for being located in a dense forest in the mountains, isolated by many miles. It was fascinating and beautiful in the daytime. Now that the sun had fallen below the horizon, and you couldn’t enjoy the sights, it gave the castle a darker feeling.
On your explorations around the castle, you heard noises that sounded like muffled conversations. However, when you’d check, nothing and nobody would be there. Peeking in the windows and circling around the grounds, you heard these strange noises coming from the castle itself. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to explore on your own.
You made your way towards one bench on the property to catch your breath. You were starting to wonder whether the noises you had heard before were perhaps nothing more than simple tricks of the mind or maybe a nearby village. You sat back on the wooden bench with a heavy sigh escaping your chest.
The sounds coming from the castle continued to grow louder. Soon, there would be nothing but utter silence surrounding it again. You thought about making your way back towards the entrance. Yet the mystery of the unknown voices calling out to you kept drawing you back in. You wanted to discover the truth about them. Was there someone or something lingering behind these walls? Was it just an old building creating these peculiar noises? Or had the wind simply picked up slightly to produce such abnormal vibrations? There was no way of telling what had been causing it and you were beginning to wish you hadn’t even considered searching. The only thing left was for you to leave without learning a thing and return safely inside the castle to enjoy the warm fires of the dining area. You stood up but were startled by the sight of a figure that appeared next to the gates and your eyes went wide with surprise.
“Ah!” you gasped in surprise, quickly jumping backwards to avoid falling to the ground.
You blinked several times, trying to clear away the blurriness from your eyes. Surely, there couldn’t be any person standing there, right? You looked over at the gates again, but there was no one there. You scanned the area for any movement or sign of a living being but could see nothing besides the trees, rocks, and bushes.
This was starting to freak you out. Sure, you knew that this was a possibility when you took the job, but you didn’t think that anything scary could’ve actually occurred at this location. And why were you getting such a creepy vibe from this part of the castle’s property? Something just seemed different about it somehow.
With a firm shake of your head, you straightened your posture and cleared your mind before heading back inside the castle to take your seat for supper. If you were to do any more exploring, it would be done on the next day with a proper guide. Perhaps asking Jongho to tour the entire grounds would not be a bad idea, since he would undoubtedly be more familiar with the details and stories surrounding the castle. For now, you’d eat dinner, bathe yourself and retire to sleep. This was already enough of a scary encounter, but you wouldn’t let it keep you awake at night, especially on the first evening you arrived.
It had been a few weeks since you’ve become a governess for the children. The kids woke you up in a cheerful mood and eager for lessons. You found yourself sitting in the garden again as you read stories with the kids and watched their natural curiosity shining brightly. Yujin and Suyeon seemed excited but also overwhelmed by the amount of information in the books. For now, you preferred keeping the story to short tales, careful to stick to the knowledge level and time frame necessary to keep them interested. There’d be time later to teach them more complex ideas.
It felt good teaching the children and guiding them. They were quick learners and always happy. The weather was perfect and sunny. The roses and the wildflowers that lined the path leading towards the garden swayed softly in the gentle wind. The smell of nature surrounded you as it filled the air with its sweet fragrance. Birds chirped happily, flitting through the trees above the children. All three of them had their gazes pointed towards the book as if they were focused intensely. After you finished the first reading, the three began discussing amongst themselves about what story they would ask for next. You sat quietly with a grin stretched across your lips.
What adorable little devils.
Their enthusiasm inspired you further to be the best teacher you possibly could, determined to always bring out their best traits and encourage their development. Every bit of work counted towards reaching that goal. Once the day’s lesson ended, they skipped back inside the castle and up towards their rooms. You turned around in the direction from which the footsteps had come and watched Yunho’s face as he walked closer towards you; the sun glistening off the gold buttons and linings in his attire. His eyes focused solely upon you.
“How was today’s class?” The question slipped from his lips smoothly.
“Perfect,” you responded. “These kids are so brilliant. I can tell their excitement was genuine.”
“Is that so?” Yunho asked. “Do you enjoy teaching them?”
You nodded quickly. “I definitely do. It’s definitely different teaching children compared to adult students, but I enjoy both. It’s refreshing. When my lessons finish, I look forward to their little questions. It makes the entire process worth it.”
Yunho hummed his response as the sound echoed around the two of you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you and you noticed the corners of his mouth curve slightly upwards. A faint blush formed on his cheeks and you blushed at the realization that he was staring back at you, holding your gaze.
“Would you like to join me in my study?” Yunho asked. “Since we are both professors, you in literature and I in art, perhaps I might entertain you with tales of art and literature from times long forgotten and stories you have yet to hear.”
A tingle ran down your spine from the seductive tone in which he spoke. Never had you heard Yunho sound like this before, but it seemed as if he was offering an invitation you could not refuse. Not that you would have declined it, either. With an eager nod, you rose and allowed yourself to be escorted towards his study.
As you followed him into the massive room and the double-door was shut behind you, Yunho lit the fireplace, which immediately filled the space with heat. The flame reflected off his glasses, his eyes twinkling in the light. When your attention shifted to the room’s furnishings, you found yourself gazing at the stunning fireplace and intricate gold filigree work. It was breathtaking. You turned back toward him, wanting to ask him about its design and purpose in his home.
His fingers danced gracefully across the leather-bound book that he had retrieved and placed before him on a polished oak table, running the tips of them over the smooth texture. It must have been quite old. Probably there’d be hundreds of pieces of knowledge written inside of that volume which could answer questions, solve problems or even make predictions.
“This book has been handed down through generations in the Jeong line and is very precious. Many members of the Jeongs have read it and learned its contents, adding to its importance.” With a satisfied smile, he slowly lifted his gaze back up towards you, speaking. “Would you like to read some?”
“I would love to,” you whispered breathlessly, barely containing yourself.
Yunho laughed deeply at how eager you sounded. He slid the book towards you and watched as you held onto the book with the care that only a well-loved treasure receives. “Well then, Miss Y/N, I would like to share its contents with you. It’s important to understand its origins and meanings in order to fully appreciate it.”
You examined the worn pages, observing the parchment-colored paper. It was bound with thin leather strips on both sides, revealing intricate designs etched into each page and carefully outlined. This wasn’t just an ordinary journal. It was a journal passed down by the Jeongs from generation to generation and filled with their histories and traditions.
You flipped through the pages carefully, noticing that every single piece contained drawings or diagrams with accompanying text describing their purpose. The picture of a traveler leaving his hometown followed a section entitled ‘Journey’. He stopped in front of an enormous mountain and stared straight ahead into nothingness, while standing still for the longest time. Finally, after a momentary pause, he moved forward and disappeared over the horizon. Under the picture, two simple lines had been inscribed: ‘To journey is to live’.
Then the traveler appeared again on another page; this time he appeared to be riding on the back of a horse. The caption read: ‘Traveling is to expand your horizons’ and under it there were more words in small font size: ‘He who sees the world differently is no stranger, but a friend.’ You chuckled slightly, finding a kindred spirit with those lines written in cursive. It reminded you of your own experiences in college and the fact that everyone saw the world through a different lens.
“What do you think?” Yunho leaned forward a bit and smiled at you with interest, curiosity and an open heart.
“I love it,” you confessed earnestly. Your gaze lowered back towards the open book and its contents while you gently stroked its edges with one hand. “Thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure.”
As soon as you said those words, Yunho laughed again in a sweet tone that warmed your soul and brought a smile to your lips.
“Perhaps you’ll join me again sometime,” his invitation rang clearly in the air as he motioned towards a stack of papers to his left. You couldn’t deny that the prospect made you feel quite excited, and you enthusiastically agreed. You needed no more encouragement, eagerly scanning the book once more before placing it gently upon his table.
“Yunho... are there any more journals you could let me read through?” you questioned carefully as his body relaxed against the leather seat, stretching out and closing his eyes with a contented sigh.
“Possibly,” Yunho replied.
“Please? I promise I won’t go too far into your family secrets,” you joked lightly, causing him to grin widely while shaking his head in amusement.
“We all have our own histories and secrets. Though, you may be free to go through all journals that I possess if it will please you,” he teased playfully as his brown eyes glittered. The smile adorning his handsome face showed affection and perhaps even a hint of a hope that maybe one day you’d want to learn about all of his own hidden desires and passions. But for now, you contented yourself with merely exploring the knowledge held within these priceless volumes.
Before you realized it, an hour had flown by. The sounds outside grew quieter as dusk fell, yet neither you nor Yunho dared to stir. Both lost in thoughts about the history of the Jeongs and their stories, it took you by surprise when the door swung wide open, revealing Jongho in a state of clear discomfort. The corners of his usually bright eyes crinkled up nervously, but, he managed to speak without faltering.
“I... I need to talk to the Lord for a moment,” his voice was hoarse and his speech slower than usual. You could almost feel his anxiety and worry radiating through the room.
“I understand,” you politely excused yourself while leaving the book where it laid before standing up to exit his office. “Thank you again, Yunho. For showing me some of the journals.”
“Certainly,” Yunho replied. He appeared relieved, seemingly happy about being able to assist you. “I hope it will provide enjoyment during the upcoming days.”
With one last appreciative glance, you exited and closed the door.
“You showed her the journals?” Jongho asked once he was certain that you’d be out of earshot, staring at his boss intently. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Yunho, are you sure-“
“I couldn’t help it,” Yunho muttered. His face darkened briefly, a hint of sadness slipping through the cracks of his typically cheery mask. “I had to. She looks too much like...”
His statement trailed off abruptly, but the implication was crystal clear to everyone within hearing distance. They knew what had been running through his mind. The young woman resembled so much of his dead lover. She was a spitting image, reminding him of those few precious days in which he was young and naïve, inexperienced in life and its cruelty, and thought love could overcome anything.
“I’m surprised that Miss Y/N looks like her,” Jongho whispered softly. “How is it possible?”
“I’m sure that her soul is back now to stay,” Yunho breathed deeply and stared straight ahead, his hands fidgeting. “No longer would we have to hear her restless soul wander and whisper among us, crying out our names.”
“You can’t possibly think of bringing her back. It’s too dangerous, not to mention it will be her end,” Jongho argued. “What if things go wrong and she never becomes alive? Are you going to sit idly by and wait forever? For something that could take place never? And if the spell is successful, do you expect Miss Y/N to walk alongside you without questions? You’re thinking of trading another soul to bring back your wife. Would she not end up suffering the same fate, if not worse?”
Yunho looked up at Jongho coldly. “Do you not understand how much it means to me to have her alive again? Even if only for a short period. She deserved it. We could have been so happy if not for everything else.”
“So you’re willing to hurt someone else in exchange for the woman you loved, hoping that maybe things will go back to the way things used to be,” Jongho continued his plea, “the late lady is gone. Miss Y/N deserves the opportunity of a complete life, free of any attachments from the past and all the horrible memories attached to them. You can’t expect to use those forbidden books to bring her back to life.”
“I cannot continue on without her,” Yunho hissed. His brows knit together furiously as he fought against the rising anger within him. “Our children need their mother, my family and our legacy needs their daughter-in-law, and most importantly, I need my true love to return to me.”
“Think for a second, Yunho. Do you seriously believe the spirits of your children’s mother would be okay with sacrificing an innocent person to resurrect their dead mother?”
“You know what her ghost wants, Jongho,” Yunho groaned, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.
“Miss Y/N isn’t Lady Ara,” Jongho reminded him. “Lady Ara and Miss Y/N have completely different backgrounds, interests and personalities. Even if they share physical appearances, that is all.”
“I am aware. Believe me,” Yunho looked away with frustration evident in his voice. “I know that my wife is gone and that Miss Y/N is alive and well...”
“Yunho, why don’t you just fall for Miss Y/N instead and start over instead of hurting an innocent and beautiful person? Lady Ara’s soul may be gone, but that does not mean that you cannot find happiness without her again,” Jongho added quietly. “The children seem to love her, the staff love her. And I─”
He trailed off and shook his head slowly. Silence stretched between them as they considered everything before them.
“Yunho,” Jongho muttered eventually. “Think this through again before making any decisions. Even the dead are allowed a proper resting place. Is resurrecting their late mother really the best thing to do, especially if they cannot see or feel their mother, anyway? At least Miss Y/N is a breathing person that’s right in front of you.”
“I-I know,” Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground. He tried to collect his scattered thoughts. A part of him already believed Jongho’s words. A bigger part, however, wanted his wife and only his wife. He could still vividly imagine his late wife’s soft smile and laughter, her warmth against his chest and kisses that reminded him of sunrises. Nothing compared to the love and affection she showed him and their little family. Everything in him ached with longing for her touch, her kiss, and her embrace again. If his spells worked successfully, she’d come back to him whole again and to spend the remaining years of his life together with him in bliss.
Yet another quiet voice in his head warned him against those foolish notions and dreams. How could it possibly be wrong when a pure soul was sacrificed to bring back the woman that was the cause for his and his children’s sorrows? Then again, was he truly sure he would gain exactly the results he desired and hoped for? Was bringing his dead wife back really the answer? Could it really fix their broken household? Or would he be nothing but a monster, bringing pain to others again?
“Does her ghost still haunt you?” Jongho probed as his friend remained deep in thought, hands interlocked before him.
“Yes, of course. All day long, I hear her pleas and whimpers,” the expression on Yunho’s face fell entirely at Jongho’s response. He sounded terribly drained. “Even after these three years? I’m glad that the staff can’t see her but the children... I’m sure they’re so scared.”
“Oh, she won’t go after the children, would she?” Jongho questioned worriedly. “Surely not.”
“Yes. You know, the only way that we can appease her and put her soul to rest,” Yunho mumbled. His eyes filled with regret as he sighed. “She... She won’t leave us alone unless we get her back.”
“Give yourself more time and think about things properly again. If nothing works, then so be it. If anything, let Lady Ara’s soul have peace and find its way towards eternal rest,” Jongho reminded him as kindly as he could. “I’ll look through the forbidden books again and write up a report for you.”
Yunho blinked at him blankly for a second. Slowly, understanding began dawning on him. Perhaps he really was overreacting slightly. Maybe his desire had caused him to temporarily lose his sanity. The idea of having her back, the ideal outcome for him, overwhelmed his entire being. Perhaps Jongho’s suggestion would lead him in the right direction. He needed to make a decision soon. For his own sake and his family’s sake.
“Okay,” he finally managed to say. “Okay.”
Jongho gave him another quick glance, almost hesitant before eventually saying his farewell. He wanted to lighten up the mood again, at the same time aware that it was pointless and the lord would most likely shut himself off until tomorrow morning. If there’s anything, he would help. Until then, he’d give the man some space.
As the heavy wooden door swung shut, Yunho slouched into the chair. A loud sigh escaped him. His mind still raced about a way of resurrecting her but also contemplated on the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jongho might have had a point. A faint glimmer of hope sparked within him. Maybe the feelings weren’t totally gone or completely destroyed after all.
He could start over. The opportunity of getting to know and falling for Miss Y/N did cross his mind more than once and her kind and soft personality was a contrast to that of Ara, though he couldn’t deny the way she could brighten the children’s days, as well as the staff’s and even his in such a short time was already refreshing. A bitter chuckle sounded, immediately drowned by the crackling sounds of the dying fire in front of him.
Jongho sighed, unable to hide his concerns. Not wanting the staff to sense something was off, he put on a straight face, ready to head out on another duty. Before leaving, he made sure to leave a small vase of fresh white roses, picked from his own garden and lovingly trimmed in an attempt to brighten Yunho’s room.
Only Jongho had seen through the dark magic he’s dabbled and accidentally cursed himself with, much to their horror, because the once sweet and optimistic lord, blinded by his obsession and desperate feelings towards his deceased wife had used forbidden knowledge no human should dare meddle in, only for it to bring tragedy and heartache upon himself. Yunho never expected the resurrection spell he chanted with so much optimism would end up turning the mansion upside down, that all of them, especially him, would end up experiencing agony so great and unending, until all that remained were only broken memories of his late wife.
The household went into mourning for many months after the spell. Everyone who met Yunho’s former wife adored her, and it had been so difficult seeing Yunho and his children suffer alone with her death. The staff tried to console them and reassure them that even the deepest wounds heal, but the way he fell into darkness left everyone speechless, even Jongho.
The previous three tutors resigned or retired prematurely because of stress and other concerns. None of them could ever reach out to their children enough to make a connection, and even when they did, they still had not figured out the dynamics well enough to work effectively with them. But ever since Miss Y/N had become the new governess of his beloved cousin’s children, his hope in them blossomed, watching their eyes slowly grow brighter with happiness and affection as the days went by.
To Jongho, Miss Y/N felt right for the job, from her enthusiasm when interacting with the young heirs of the Jeong family, to her eagerness to learn about everything regarding the Castle and surrounding area, especially the histories surrounding its location. He watched from the corners of the grounds and various windows to check up on the new governess during her daily routines, the way she seemed to enjoy teaching the children every bit of her knowledge while still allowing time to allow their innocence to flourish and their free spirits to grow and develop, how Miss Y/N willingly included them into discussions or other activities even if it seemed uninteresting to them, yet never forced the kids to do things they didn’t like, always encouraging. He cherished every smile on her sweet and gentle face.
Someday... perhaps... Jongho’s eyes lowered. Deep in his chest, something had changed. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what that was. Did his heart start beating differently? Did his breathing become shallower? Jongho shook his head, shaking the strange feelings away, even as the sense that something had already shifted, and would shift more. He pushed back his self-doubt and closed his eyes. There was no way that he could harbor feelings like these when his station would never allow him to have someone. Especially a woman of her standing.
Jongho brought a hand to his face, running it over his tired features.
“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. He thought his life was perfectly normal and steady. Until recently, there wasn’t anyone who seemed to capture his attention. He felt conflicted, but resolved that the feelings would surely vanish if he didn’t let himself think about them.
Jongho huffed and shook the feelings away. He knew there was no hope whatsoever, especially not at the moment when the lord’s future and reputation is in danger, where all hopes for him to recover are placed on the very governess he’s admired ever since she first arrived here, because she reminded him of the missing piece of Yunho’s broken puzzle: his dead wife.
“Dear god,” Jongho massaged his temples slowly with a deep sigh, unable to shake the image of her smile from his mind. He wondered whether he’d ever stop thinking about her. It’s not even been a week, and she’s already crept up inside his head. The possibilities worried him and sent shivers through his entire body. Why do these feelings exist inside him? Where did they come from and why now of all times when he has to put his life on the line for his boss?
A thousand and one worries ran rampant within him, but nothing prepared him for the day that she suddenly became the focus of his life. Was it because she had turned everything in their lives into something entirely new? She brought light and warmth everywhere she went. She gave new meaning and purpose to his dull existence. He wanted to protect her. Jongho clutched his fists tight at the thought of anyone or anything putting her in harm’s way or seeing her cry. How did this happen? Why couldn’t he control what’s going on inside his head or heart? All of his training, all of his efforts to be rational, completely overthrown by Miss Y/N.
For the longest time, Jongho stared ahead into the darkness. In his heart, a seed had been planted, waiting for its chance to burst open. A dream, a possibility for something bigger than the two of them. What if... What if she felt the same?
He wanted her. That much he was certain of, and although he had never thought it possible that his life would turn into what it’s turned into, it did. No doubt. But the biggest issue with everything: what does Miss Y/N want? Would she like a future by his side? A life with a mere servant, when she could easily marry into the aristocracy instead and obtain riches?
Jongho paused and slumped deeper into the pillows. None of these were questions he had an answer for, nor could he form any sort of speculation for at least in the foreseeable future, unless she showed him something else. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that, for as long as it takes, for as long as the chances of her loving him remained uncertain, Jongho would hold on and treasure every smile, every laugh and every giggle that makes him wish to have his own smiles and laughs with her.
And for the first time in a while, he realized what had brought such joy into his previously monotonous life and now, what he will never, ever, give up no matter what.
Even if it meant going against Yunho.
“Miss Y/N!” a sweet, cheery voice chimed happily as you settled into a chair.
The children had become comfortable enough to act so comfortably in your presence, not hesitating to pull themselves up by you for their morning meal. Every time you saw them in their cute outfits, smiles bright and glowing, and chatting happily away, a warm sense of fulfillment spread through your entire body. What were the odds that a few weeks ago you would have thought nothing like this would be possible, and yet, everything in front of you showed otherwise?
“What are we learning today, Miss Y/N?” Yujin asked, mouth half-full with some cut up pieces of apples.
“Slowly, dears,” you instructed patiently, gently tapping a napkin to his lip. “We are learning more about literature and art appreciation.”
“Is it the boring kind like those dumb books in Daddy’s study?” Suyeon wrinkled her nose distastefully.
You giggled as a certain fondness washed over you. The precious little girl’s blunt opinions and personality never failed to amuse and delight you. Even if they might not like a particular activity, both she and Yujin would sit dutifully next to you and pay attention.
“These are different kinds of books, I promise,” you winked, earning delighted gasps from the two children.
Sujin, being only three, clapped along with the excitement, watching her older siblings. Despite her babbling, there were some basic words of gratitude and greeting she recognized and had begun uttering for each member of the staff, which warmed everyone’s hearts. As you taught the two older children, Sujin would happily be in your lap or clinging to your skirt. She definitely liked following and was quieter, preferring to listen to you speak more than try to recite herself.
“Alright. Let’s go,” you picked Sujin up.
With the children in tow, you entered the room, where several books lined the shelves neatly in organized rows. The previous tutors were highly experienced individuals; well read, knowledgeable and proper. Although Yunho gave his children the luxury of many learning opportunities and experiences, there was something to be desired in that they would not relate well to the children’s age. Children’s education needed to be adjusted according to their growth, development, interests and abilities in order for them to retain their lessons and information better.
Although you taught adults during your time as a professor in a college, being able to teach little children was an entirely new world of its own. But seeing their adorable little faces lighting up with their eyes gleaming whenever you started telling them a story, seeing Sujin clapping her chubby hands or watching them lean forward as they listened intently, hearing them ask questions, and interacting with them. Everything about their childhood was a rare treat. You could tell the children enjoyed themselves tremendously. Their innocent smiles and their wide, sparkling gazes filled with curiosity and wonder were more than enough payment to last a lifetime.
“So,” you began, getting up from the table to approach the wooden cabinet against the wall. As usual, you scanned over its contents briefly, deciding on what to pull out, before turning your focus back to the children, who patiently waited. “I know Suyeon doesn’t like the books in their father’s study, but perhaps she may prefer some paintings.”
“Like pretty ladies sitting on swings or walking near water fountains?” Yujin asked. His sweet question made you chuckle as his interest was also shown.
“There are also plenty of pictures like that too, although most of them will probably show landscapes,” you mused, bringing up a large, bound folio. “How about we try this one together?”
Your suggestion was met with their excited agreement. Once the book was laid flat on the wooden tabletop, you flipped past the first few pages. You didn’t have to say much about the cover or title, as it didn’t take long for the kids to recognize what the subjects of these works were. Suyeon stared curiously, barely able to read the words scrolled upon its cover.
“Are you ready to learn more about the artists behind some of these lovely images?” Your question resulted in an enthusiastic cheer.
While the kids sat with their legs dangling as they carefully examined the pictures before them, you opened another folder containing a brief passage of information that served as an introductory background on the person who painted each work. It would have taken many times the amount of energy to fully explain or discuss each painting itself, much less explain the various aspects of brush strokes, textures, color schemes and so on. Instead, a simplified overview of each artist’s lives would have to be enough until the children can sit and learn without feeling bored.
“What are we learning today?” Yunho asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft grin as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.
“Art. Artists,” Suyeon waved her hands around excitedly. “It’s so cool, daddy!”
“Daddy. Look!” Yujin held up an oil pastel drawing with two rabbits. The sight of him pointing proudly to his art and holding it out made you crack a fond smile.
“I figured today we delve into the arts since you’re an art professor yourself, my lord,” you remarked gently, watching the kids jump about and start on their respective drawings, though Sujin needed more of your assistance. “We could branch out into more literary sections starting later, and of course, I’ll include plenty of reading time.”
“What great ideas. I think the children love it,” he offered up a quiet hum.
“They do have talent,” you added happily. The young master and lady were exceptional at drawing and painting, though not without their moments of struggle in between, to be expected from children of their ages.
“Now, now, my young lord and ladies,” you said calmly, stepping over with the stack of paper and paints, “we don’t want to paint our beautiful clothes, do we?”
Picking up Sujin, her chubby hands filled with green and orange smudges, you rubbed them lightly over a tissue before depositing her on your hip, making the younger Jeong squeal with delight, smacking her tiny palms against your cheek and staining it. Laughing at her behavior, you handed her to the nanny as she came to pick her up. Yujin and Suyeon joined them for a moment.
“Please make sure the children get cleaned up and dressed as well, Miss Kim,” Yunho told the nanny as you organized the scattered materials into their neat piles. The children were adamant at spending every spare second with you and constantly begging you to stay a little longer, regardless of the fact that it was nap time and you needed a break too. “Miss Y/N must also rest.”
You thanked the nanny quietly and bade farewell to the kids with the promise that you will continue your studies together with them after naptime. Just as you were about to head upstairs for a quick catnap, Yunho gently took hold of your shoulder, making you glance at him in surprise.
“You have paint on your face,” he murmured, pulling a clean, soft handkerchief out of his pocket. Before you could respond, the cloth ran softly over the corners of your lips and across one side of your cheek. Your entire face tingled and burned. A sudden warmth enveloped your entire body despite how soft the delicate cloth felt against your skin.
His gaze and expression were softer than usual. Kind eyes that radiated heat, along with an enigmatic smile you couldn’t decipher. Unconsciously, your teeth dug into the inside of your lip and an inaudible sigh slipped through your parted lips. Yunho stopped a moment and surveyed you closely, still smiling with that indescribable grin as his gaze dipped lower briefly.
“Do not think too much,” he added with a low chuckle. You became uncomfortably aware of his fingers gliding smoothly across your skin as he wiped off the extra paint left behind by the children’s sticky fingers, then you watched him refold the handkerchief neatly before stuffing it into his pocket.
It took you another moment to remember to breathe. His proximity still affected you greatly. Thankfully, he stepped back and headed away, leaving you alone to deal with the growing feeling in your heart and mind. How is it even possible, you wondered as your gaze remained fixated upon the dark head of hair until the figure disappeared down the hallway and turned to the corner, when his mere smile and touches were enough to make you lose composure and act shy in front of him? And the thoughts of him touching you, looking at you, thinking about you...just you, in the privacy of his chambers.
You buried your hot face in your hands.
Being around the man, his charming aura and enigmatic smiles, made you question and yearn for the chance to be held in his arms and in his affections. You sighed deeply, knowing fully well that, although nothing could ever happen, at least the feelings could only fizzle out with time. Surely, this entire episode will pass soon and everything can return to normal again.
To distract yourself, you decided to get some hot tea and snacks from the kitchen. You found Jongho in the kitchens already, nibbling a snack of his own. When he noticed you, he shifted so his seat would give you enough space to sit and dine on the delicious and soothing sweets.
“What kinds of books do you usually read, Miss Y/N?” Jongho suddenly asked, catching you completely off-guard.
“Oh, me?” you hesitated a little, lowering the cup to the table with a quiet, timid chuckle.
“Yes. I was curious and wanted to see whether your likes and preferences are similar.” he gave a hopeful, toothy grin. “Are there any other books or topics you are interested in?”
“Of course. I absolutely love history, literature and language, and art, of course,” you explained, ignoring the thudding of your racing heart, cheeks growing pinker. “Oh, and cooking, sewing, gardening and painting, too. Anything that will allow me to unwind after work, really.”
“What about romance?” Jongho continued, making you grow hot.
“R-romance?” Your brows furrowed, nearly choking on the dessert.
“It’s one of the most popular genres in our town’s library,” he nodded his head enthusiastically. “But you seem to like reading history.”
Oh, that’s what he meant.
“Well, I enjoy all forms of literature. So, there’s that,” you giggled nervously. You didn’t have time to explain your obsession and love with the subject. “To answer your question, yes, I do enjoy the occasional romance novels too, although it depends. They should contain elements that spark the interest of the readers.”
“And what interests you?” Jongho’s smile widened even more as he asked the simple question, turning to you again and making your heart do a backflip.
For a moment, your head was a total mess. Of course, you enjoyed reading historical novels and occasionally light romantic ones, but most of it, you used to read them as an outlet for the day’s stress or when your heart ached from loneliness. As you grew into a fully grown adult and understood your body’s needs, a different craving for literature developed. The contents became dirtier and explicit.
That didn’t mean, however, that you were shameless enough to mention these types of works to anyone. Your eyes looked around briefly, scanning the area, making sure no one could catch sight of how flustered you’d become. Jongho was handsome, that much you could acknowledge as a fact. And in the time that you’ve known him and had been working in the mansion, a faint seedling of some sort of respect, admiration, and desire for something bloomed. The fact that you could imagine him holding you so intimately that you had started looking at his built figure, thinking of his lips over yours, his fingers trailing softly over every inch of your body.
Jongho followed your gaze to find it landed on the servants. To others, they were chatting and conversing with each other and working about the area while preparing to serve tea for afternoon refreshments. It was simply them going about doing their duties. “Miss?”
“Hm?” you uttered. “Yes?”
Jongho shifted towards you, leaning forward and casually adjusting his legs while sliding his hands closer to where yours rested on the table. His height caused his shoulder to hunch forward slightly, so his breath wafted across your cheeks, warm and soft. His handsome features, his neatly slicked hair, his gentle expressions, you could stare at his gorgeous features for hours and not grow bored with taking everything in. “Are you okay? You seem to be quite flustered.”
“Oh? Flustered?” A high-pitched noise escaped your lips, sounding more like a broken screech. “Me? I was just thinking that─”
You quickly cupped the cup with a nervous smile and drank more of the refreshing lemon drink. Your throat was tight. Was it getting warm? The way you shifted in the seat revealed the discomfort in between your thighs that continued to grow worse. Jongho had somehow affected your hormones without realizing.
“I-it’s nothing. Nope! Just me and my silly thoughts.” you swallowed thickly, fanning your heated face with your free hand.
You couldn’t understand why you started feeling this way for both Yunho and Jongho. These feelings weren’t like the kind that you’d had experienced before with anyone else. You’ve had your fair share of men, though folks would call you promiscuous because they didn’t believe any good woman would associate themselves with those kinds of folks. But with Yunho and Jongho, there was this unfamiliar sensation in how you reacted whenever you saw them. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you liked this. A lot. You loved feeling the butterflies in your stomach.
This sweet, new thing.
“Your face is pink,” Jongho noted casually. There was no hint of teasing. It was spoken with genuine, quiet worry that caused an oncoming headache, coupled with the dryness in your throat. “Perhaps you should lay down.”
Your lips tightened and pursed. “I will, I think.”
You dabbed at the corner of your mouth and then left the servant to clean up in order to exit to your bedroom to lie down. However, instead of a long and dreamless nap, your mind became filled with dreams and fantasies of what could be. Of Jongho and your fingers entwined, him leaning closer to steal a kiss, his lips so tender upon your own and his body flushed to yours, skin tingling with need. Of Yunho’s powerful arms around you, shielding you, and his breath hot and husky as he murmurs his affections, kissing you deeply with a passionate neediness. The images made you sigh heavily into the bedsheets, letting out all the tension that you had no other place for.
And deep down, you felt almost certain that there might be a place for both men within your heart.
The thoughts surrounding Yunho’s mind as he slept that night were those of Miss Y/N, whom he was growing more accustomed to seeing and thinking of each passing day. Every time, when she walked past him and greeted him or when she lingered near, he would breathe her in, notice every little detail like the crinkle near her mouth when she laughed and the light in her beautiful eyes. And just when he thought that she would be ingrained in his mind, her figure would change to that of his late wife, the curves, the colors and her voice would change into her tone.
Her face appeared a lot clearer than it has been for years. Almost as if she was here beside him, lying next to him with one arm and her head draped lazily across his chest as she fell asleep to him, running his fingers gently through her smooth locks. Even her touch, her sweet smell. It felt so real, as if it was not the first time he’d had her in his arms.
With a quick inhale and a shift of his head, his hand dropped limply onto the soft covers, and the rest of her figure faded from his mind. Her memory would always linger with a bit of uncertainty that threatened to spoil his mood. How strange, Yunho thought to himself as his eyes reopened to see the soft, plush bedding covering his bare chest. In the distant corner, moonlight continued to filter into the large room, bathing all the furniture in a silver glow. For the longest while, he remained motionless and stared at the ceiling. The cold sheets caressed him lovingly as he curled against his pillow.
He heard the whispers, the voices, coming from the walls, filling his brain, filling his very being. Was he becoming crazy? Every night, it grew stronger; the voices, her, trying to draw him into an ever-growing darkness.
“Yunho,” the whispers, the dead hiss came, causing him to clutch his pillow with white-knuckle strength, nails digging into the silky material as he clutched his head with his other hand.
They were always there; waiting for him, waiting for him to do... something.
“Yunho,” her breath, her breath was against his ear now.
“Yunho,” she hissed. “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. Don’t you want me, Yunho? Do you not want me? Yunho? Yunho!”
He closed his eyes, gripping the blankets in both fists, feeling her invisible touch on the backs of his shoulders. “No,” he whimpered, “not anymore, not anymore!”
The feel of her icy fingers on his chest sent ice into his heart. It felt like death in his ears, in his chest, in his mouth. Yunho squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt a hard shudder overcome his entire form.
“Give. Me. What. You. Promised.” Her voice grew louder, a silent roar, and louder, her words growing indistinguishable as he sat in silence, a tremor overtaking his body. Yunho could feel her fingernails drawing small circles and spirals upon his bare skin, and her mouth was cold upon his ear, her breath harsh and wet. “You promised me eternal life. Give it to me.”
He opened his eyes, staring at the ghostly apparition of his late wife who still continued to hover before him, grinning and chanting in that harsh, otherworldly voice. “I can’t... Not when the body you want is a breathing, living thing!” Yunho gritted through clenched teeth.
“Don’t you love me?” She snarled. “Don’t you miss me?”
He stiffened, not wanting to reply, as the sight of his former, most beloved person standing before him with such unabashed cruelty was too much. He kept silent, hearing his heart beat faster as the cold spread in his chest, like frost burning up the core of him.
“Tell me, dear,” her voice lowered, cooing and breathless in his ear, “do you still love me, after everything that happened, Yunho?”
He didn’t know how to reply. So many mixed emotions rose and threatened to overflow. The coldness in his bones and her heavy weight, the dread, the dread all sinking down upon him until he finally whispered,
“Yes...” Yunho looked at her, unflinching. His resolve held for this one second as the memories, the old fears, the hatred flooded him all the same.
She smiled, eyes glittering darkly in the candlelight.
“Do you wish you had me by your side, again?” She cooed and reached forward. “She looks like me, you know. You can have us both. Tell me, tell me.”
Yunho closed his eyes, shaking them, wanting to rid himself of the ghost before his eyes, his ghost, the vision before him, and then he cried aloud, “NO!”
And when he felt the warm hand that touched his arm gently, Yunho flinched away with a heavy gasp.
“My lord?” the quiet voice came. Yunho opened his eyes, the ghost of his late wife, nowhere to be seen. In her place stood his very real, breathing person.
You looked down at his sweat drenched body, a clear sign he was either having fever or having a nightmare. You head the sounds coming from his bedroom and dashed towards him to investigate the situation. Now, standing at the bedside and examining his poor sleeping figure and seeing how he tossed and turned.
“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, not caring that you were just in a thin layer of chemise that barely concealed all of your most intimate areas, or that he was naked from the waist up.
“Mmhm,” his throat muscles bobbed. It was all Yunho could manage through the overwhelming need and desire. You. He needed you. He needed someone else. Anyone other than her. She would not haunt him for long, not when he had a mind and will of his own. Not when he had you.
“I-I....” the man shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them flutter open. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him so that you lay flat on the bed, his body hovering over you.
The blanket had moved aside and fell completely from his torso to the mattress, showing off the stunning upper body, tousled and messed hair, and a glint in his half-closed gaze. You exhaled shakily, still unmoving.
“Please. I... just want you. Just tonight,” he breathed, looking up from your cleavage. He captured your lips with his own, leaving you speechless and breathless. “Stay with me tonight.”
The gentleness, his words, and his touch seemed to burn into your skin. His hands moved up your arms, pinning them above your head as he devoured your mouth and your neck. His knee settled nicely between your legs. With every word, his teeth, tongue and lips trailed over the tender skin of your exposed throat and collarbone.
It felt right; his firm, warm body pressed to your own, the gentle tugs of his hands upon the flimsy chemise, the slow drag of his thumb across your lips, the feather-light brushes and caresses, his mouth upon yours, exploring, dominating, yet coaxing out your desire. The soft noises you make and the whimpers of his name urged him forward, spurring his hunger.
“Do you want me? Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. His mouth was so close that you felt his hot breath washing over your wet lips, making you shiver. “Please.”
“I want you,” you gasped, overwhelmed by your desires and needs and unable to say more. Your lips yearned for him. For his taste and his scent. You wanted nothing more but him.
His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he reached down with one hand to press a finger to your slick sex, dragging it upwards, sending your hips bucking and arching from the pleasurable shock that ripped through you. “Yunho....”
“I...” his breath quivered. “Is it alright?”
He was hard, unbelievably hard against your thigh and his tent was already apparent in the loose trousers he was wearing. Even so, his kind nature urged him to be respectful. “Is it?”
He glanced up and down at your bare and quivering form, taking in the curves of your soft, lush skin and the dips between. His gaze lingered on your full and luscious breasts with its stiffened peaks, so tantalizingly inviting and luring. You wiggled one of your hands free, grasping the hand that was on your sex, squeezing it as you smiled tenderly.
“Yes,” you breathed softly, and his eyes bore back at you in shock. “I am willing.”
After hearing your words of consent, he inserted a long finger inside you. You gasped loudly and arched your back as his mouth latched onto one hardened bud, taking your breast into his mouth, sucking greedily and harshly. He added another finger and began to slide his fingers in and out, allowing the tip of his fingers to run across that spot he knew would have you writhing in pleasure.
You bucked your hips again to meet the pace of his fingers, as you tried your best not to moan louder and louder. “P-please... Oh! Yunho, please.”
It felt as if every nerve ending in your body was alight and ready for his touch, to feel his heat wash over every inch of your exposed skin, even his soft breathing. As he pressed his body flat and covered your entire form with his own, the entire room seemed to dim, your hearing and vision a mess, every sound muted and faraway as you succumbed to the feel of Yunho’s hands and the press of his weight over you, which somehow reassured you.
“Hush now,” his low voice tickled your ear, making your entire body shake with anticipation and need. “Let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel good. So good.”
You found yourself moaning from his husky and thick voice alone. He rolled his hips to emphasise the point, dragging the hardened bulge against the inside of your thigh. He removed his hand from you only to rip your chemise cleanly down the middle.
“I’ll get you another one,” he chuckled when he saw your surprised face.
“How am I supposed to go back to my bedroom?” you managed between huffs.
“You don’t,” Yunho murmured, taking hold of both your hands in one grip again, pinning them together. “I intend to keep you all night long until the sun rises. We’ll see if you are not absolutely spent by then.”
Before you could utter another word, Yunho trailed, kissed down the valley between your breasts and all the way to your stomach, dipping the tip of his tongue in the tiny curve where the muscles in the belly are. Your senses were over flooded from every lick and stroke, each graze of his teeth, his hands and his mouth, kissing you, kneading you, stroking you, anywhere and everywhere.
Suddenly, there was an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed Yunho rising. His hands made quick work of undoing the cord that kept his pants tied in place.
“Open your legs,” Yunho’s hot breath fanned over your cheeks as he breathed raggedly. He urged, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh lightly. “Wider.”
Slowly and agonizingly, he crawled down your body, his fingers all the way to the inner part of your thighs, pulling and spreading them apart for him. Without a warning, his tongue laved at your damp opening, drinking your essence greedily as you writhed and moaned beneath him. A firm hand went to your stomach, preventing you from moving too much as Yunho’s lips covered your swollen folds. You pulled on the silken strands of his hair, earning a growl of approval, and moaned softly at the sensation of his warm breaths fanned over your clit. His tongue swirled over your entrance, driving you absolutely mad.
With his talented and torturous mouth, Yunho didn’t take much longer until your release spasmed throughout your entire being, shattering your every thought and coherency. Yunho didn’t relent and continued devouring you, prolonging your release until you were forced to use your free hand to push his head away. When your breathing finally evened out, you felt Yunho shift, his weight above your pelvis, and his solid erection laid heavily between the apex of your thighs.
“Y/N,” his hands moved to your wrists once again. And, as you felt him enter your walls and slide deliciously along your soaking, moist flesh, he took your lips in a kiss, claiming your mouth and drawing a breathless gasp from you as his length filled you and stretched you most deliciously, stealing your breath away. The two of you settled into a delicious rhythm with his cock stroking in and out and with the thrust of his hips in perfect sync with your rocking. “You feel so good.”
The deep grunts that followed had you burying your nails into his skin, the need for him increasing as you could almost hear the thudding of your heart as Yunho’s movements got quicker, causing you to arch against his chest. There were no thoughts in your mind and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that escaped your lips. With his hand guiding your leg around him and the other supporting him, Yunho sank his length deeper inside you.
“So warm,” he shuddered in disbelief as his breathing became more ragged, the scent of his cologne and arousal hitting you directly, along with the droplets of sweat that began to form on his back. You moaned and whispered his name repeatedly like it was a spell, knowing that he needed more than just your words.
His low growls were so close to your ear, urging you to continue chanting his name with every movement until a small whimper broke from you, a soft, “oh.”
“Look at me,” his lips grazed your earlobe as you mewled and jerked your hips to meet his deep thrust. He needed to see the look of complete surrender on your face when he finished you. He wanted to see every detail.
“Yunho,” you let out a soft moan.
“Now,” he whispered in a commanding tone that sent shivers down your spine, drawing a gasp from you as he snapped his hips, embedding himself to the hilt. “Come for me.”
A cry, sweet and wanting, was forced from his lips, as Yunho wrapped his hands around your throat, capturing the moan in another kiss, making you feel the warmth radiating between your connected bodies. He breathed heavily and groaned at the contact of his throbbing erection in your heat. As if responding to your need, he squeezed the globes of your rear gently before continuing his rough and hurried strokes.
When the tension and pressure grew too great, Yunho couldn’t control himself. He climaxed with a deep grunt and your name. All his strength seemed to abandon him and his weight toppled over, leaning on you. Immediately, he shifted and placed a kiss at the top of your forehead, gathering you close to his sweat slicked skin with your head nestled under his chin.
Your hands roamed all over the expanse of Yunho’s broad, warm chest as his heartbeat started to slow. One hand pushed a stray strand away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks, moist and slightly swollen lips, and tousled hair. Yunho looked gorgeous and absolutely stunning underneath the pale moon that continued to provide its illuminating light.
His eyelids fluttered open to look directly into yours. With his right hand, he drew your face towards him. Your breath hitched as Yunho rested his forehead upon yours, his thumb grazing across your lips. He sucked in a deep breath and whispered something in a tone that you could not catch. Afterward, he moved downwards and connected his mouth to yours, kissing your lips fervently, relishing every little moan you emitted.
“You’re beautiful,” he uttered in the brief pauses between kisses, making you chuckle. “Are you alright?”
“I should be asking you that,” you said. “What happened to you earlier?”
With a furrowed expression, you witnessed the dark look that crossed Yunho’s handsome features. The way he carried himself, the quiet elegance he always displayed. It was all still the same, but there was also something hidden and tucked behind his person. Like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Yunho shook his head. “There’s... a lot of things that’s happened, Y/N. It’ll take a long time to explain.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you replied quietly, brushing a thumb against his cheek.
Yunho merely looked at you, studying every minute detail of your face, committing everything to memory. At that moment, there was nothing else but you and Yunho. Nothing and no one could have this. And the way you spoke, the way your gentle hands moved across his skin as you spoke, the very fact that he was talking about something he hadn’t touched upon in the years of your company, caused him to think. Maybe you weren’t going anywhere, after all.
“If there’s a reason,” you murmured slowly and cautiously as you rested a hand upon his naked chest, “a reason that has prevented you to open up and talk, I hope that in time, you’ll be willing to tell me what troubles you, Yunho.”
With a smile tugging his lips upwards, a genuine smile, Yunho held you close. For the first time in years, there was a spark of hope and warmth he could feel and it was not a hallucination, no.
It was very real.
One month passed by relatively fast.
You were standing next to Jongho, waving at the departing carriage that Yunho and the children had departed in. Yunho and the children were heading to the capital for the holidays, as was the custom for nobles to do. Sujin was clinging on to you for dear life and refused to leave, wailing and screaming in anguish, holding you tight in her embrace while the other two children joined her in their wails. Their loud sobs drowned out all the noise of the bustling servants and horses.
“You’ll be back before you know it,” you muttered, rubbing the child’s back soothingly and in a voice loud enough to be heard amongst the chaos. The toddler buried her face further into your chest, nodding slowly while sobbing quietly. “It’s only for a few weeks.”
Yunho sighed and walked up behind, gently peeling off Sujin from her iron grip.
“You have to let go, baby,” he soothed and smiled comfortingly.
“Papa, no!” she wailed, digging her face against Yunho’s chest with a new set of sobs. The older gentleman gave you a helpless look and sighed. You only offered a supportive smile in response.
“The sooner you let go, the sooner we can return and you can see Miss Y/N again,” Yunho cajoled with the toddler, still not relenting her hold on his shirt.
Yunho waited patiently as Sujin processed his statement and pulled her face back, still sniffling and sobbing and hiccupping. She nodded vigorously. “Uh, huh.”
“Alright. Say goodbye, now,” Yunho said sternly. The toddler pouted with tears dripping down her red face.
“Bye-bye mama,” she cried. “Bye-bye!!”
You stood there frozen and startled beyond belief. The children and everyone around them went still with astonishment as a sudden awkward silence washed over everyone and they stared back and forth. Your mind went blank and unresponsive, incapable of forming any thought and even a simple word as the small and fragile girl wrapped her arms around your neck once again, causing the spell to break.
“Goodbye, sweetheart,” not bothering to correct the toddler. You embraced the little girl, taking in the smell of her soft baby hairs. With one final cry, the toddler released you. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Jongho, keep Miss Y/N and the rest of the staff well,” the nobleman addressed to the younger man with a slight blush dusted over his cheekbones. He offered an apologetic grin before sending a knowing look your way and nodded, retreating inside his carriage with the crying kids trailing behind. The carriage shook roughly and then, with the sound of rattling wheels, was off.
“Mama, huh?” One maid let out a teasing grin. “Seems like the little lady has already taken a liking to you, Miss Y/N.”
“What do you expect? Miss Y/N is the closest to a mother figure that the young lord and ladies have.” The house steward, old and grizzled as he was, merely hummed in thought, stroking his beard in contemplation as he watched the retreating carriage fade in the distant hills.
“I don’t mind it at all,” you laughed. “Sujin is three, after all. She doesn’t understand much.”
“Just wait, Miss Y/N. In no time, all three children will start calling you mama. That would be adorable,” one of the kitchen maids added. Everyone began to chat animatedly. “The master already has affection towards you. It’s only a matter of time until those adorable tykes start picking up on his feelings.”
“What are you all saying?! That would never happen!” You blushed bright red as everyone burst out laughing.
Jongho chuckled. “Now, now. Let’s all get back to our duties. The sooner we all finish, the sooner we can finally relax!”
With Jongho’s cheerful remark, the atmosphere turned jubilant. The servants immediately scattered back to their stations and went back to their responsibilities. However, Jongho stood next to you. “You know he cares about you.”
“He-we’re not together!” You protested loudly, waving your hands frantically in front of you. “There’s no way he can like a woman of my stature.”
“Are you blind?” He laughed, patting your shoulder with a wide grin. “Everyone in this entire mansion and even the children have taken to you. You’ve fit right in like you were always a member here.”
“And you? Did you like having me around here as well, Mister Jongho?” You looked at him. You teased, a grin on your lips.
“More than you know. To me,” Jongho beamed, a look of pure relief overcoming his entire form. The burden that he had carried seemed to have evaporated. He nodded toward the large estate and the shrubbery in the garden. “To me, it’s almost like you were here to watch over all of us. Because, if anything, there was no one that has loved us like the way you did.”
“Jongho....” Your chest tightened. There was something about his eyes. Something about the way they took you and held you with utmost trust and admiration that brought joy into your heart.
“I know that, like all humans, Lord Yunho had his share of tragedies in the past,” the groundskeeper began quietly, as his gaze wandered to the green hills and to the morning sun, bathing him in a soft glow and accentuating his firm jaw and soft, brown hair.
“Can you tell me... about what happened?” you asked. “No, never mind,” you added quickly. “You don’t have to if-“
“No. It’s alright. You need to know,” he gave a strained laugh and gestured you to follow him. You and him walked down a path in the enormous garden, Jongho taking extra time to make sure all the shrubbery were in check and that the plants looked neat, pruned, and trimmed to his liking. The both of you stood underneath a small pavilion and sat at a table facing the fountain.
“What happened to her?” You asked him in a soft whisper.
“You mean Lady Ara?” His gaze lingered upon the lilies floating peacefully along the surface of the pond. He clenched his fingers tightly. “You look like her, you know. She was so vibrant, warm, gentle, and beautiful. But during the last few months of being pregnant with Miss Sujin, her health and strength began to wane.”
Your face showed concern. “How?”
“The grand library,” Jongho didn’t bother to meet your gaze. Instead, his eyes followed a lone dove that alighted near one lily. Its wings fluttered against the cool wind and the breeze blew through his locks softly. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “Three months prior to little Sujin being born, Lady Ara was reading a book that wasn’t meant to be read.”
“What were they about?” You questioned quietly and carefully as the younger man’s brow furrowed.
“Old magic,” Jongho hesitated. He was visibly nervous and when you reached out to squeeze his hand, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he grasped onto your hand with such a hard grip, his face contorting and crinkling in pain and horror that you almost feared he had broken a bone or two in his hand. “And with old magic, came a price.”
He swallowed and continued in a low, shaking whisper. “Her life.”
Silence was the only answer he received. So, he continued.
“Thank the goddess that little Sujin was spared the curse that was bestowed upon Lady Ara, but....” A bitter, defeated chuckle was heard as he stood from the bench. He picked up the clippers that laid upon the ground and snipped a tiny branch. “It would only be a matter of time before the curse took Lady Ara’s life. She didn’t make it through and now her ghost haunts the castle.”
“Ghost?” you asked.
“Haven’t you heard whispers? Chilling voices down the halls sometimes at night?” Jongho asked.
“So I’m not going crazy,” you whispered. “No wonder I hear these voices.”
“The staff and the children can’t hear or see her,” Jongho finally finished as he took his seat again. The old and withering rose bush branches were shedding their petals at a rapid pace as he pruned the branches and pulled at the weak buds. “But Yunho and I still do. Ever since her death, she’s been plaguing and tormenting both of us in different ways.”
You chewed at the insides of your bottom lip. “Why her?”
“Because her ghost is tied with that old book she read,” Jongho said.
“Can’t Yunho burn the book?” you asked. “I’m certain that would set her spirit free.”
“We tried, many times.” Jongho merely shrugged with a helpless look. He stabbed his clippers on the wooden bench with a sigh. “When the first two tries failed, it got worse. Whenever Yunho attempted to do such a thing, Lady Ara’s ghost would wail so loud and horribly. Yunho and I would find ourselves being paralyzed, unable to move or speak. And when we asked her what she wanted, she hissed that she didn’t want to go. That she wanted eternal life.”
“Jongho,” you said.
He snorted a little and turned his head away in shame, not meeting your worried and alarmed expression.
“What’s going on?” you asked.
“You. She wants you, Y/N.” Jongho pressed a trembling hand against his temple. “She wants to take over your body.”
TO BE CONTINUED
#ksmutsociety#thevelvetvault#illusionnet#cromernet#wonderlandnet#kvanity#other side outlaws network#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez stories#ateez fanfics#ateez imagines#ateez smut#ateez yunho#jeong yunho#yunho#yunho x reader#choi jongho#jongho x reader#jongho
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network love —- w.jh
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♡ pairing: wen junhui x gn!reader ♡ genre: established relationship with idol!junhui ♡ wc: ~0.5k ♡ warnings: fluff, they’re just IN LOVE and LONG DISTANCE your honor ♡ a/n: random drabble written for my lovely @crab-ranjun
Wen Junhui wears many, many hats. Wen Junhui the Chinese drama actor, Jun the member of global K-Pop boy band phenomenon Seventeen, and his favorite hat; Junnie, your loving boyfriend.
The latter is unfortunately hanging on the coat rack near the door of your small apartment back in Seoul. For the last several months he has been wearing the actor hat, and while he loves that hat, he’s tired and while he is in his home country, he misses his home.
The day ahead of him will be a long day of wearing his idol Jun hat, but without his brothers it seems wrong. Fancalls can be fun, because meeting Carats is always rewarding, but the sheer amount of time he has to devote to this today is almost astronomical.
Jun sat in front of the phone waiting for the first call to begin. His staff buzzed around him, finishing last minute prep that there will be no time for during the long line of calls. Jun watched them, feeling sorry that he can’t help out with whatever needs done. A woman comes to him and touches up his makeup and informs him he has about five more minutes.
He slips his personal phone out of his pocket.
Junnie: long day ahead, Xīngān, talk l8r 😽
Jun smiles to himself feeling his phone buzz right as he returns it to his pocket. He can’t wait to hear about your day later, once he’s back in his apartment he keeps in China for these long stints of acting gigs.
Carats are always fun to talk to most days, today is no different. Jun got to see plenty of cats and had his fair share of odd questions to side step, admittedly not nearly as many as Vernon typically gets, but enough to tire him out.
He stretches his arms over his head, feeling almost giddy as the next call is the last one before he gets to go back to his own space and text you until he falls asleep, probably on the couch. His eyes close slightly, enjoying the stiffness of his muscles evening out, as the call connects.
A voice, a strangely familiar voice, greets him in Mandarin on the other end of the line. His eyes snap open to see your smiling face on the phone screen in front of him.
He opens his mouth to speak but the words don’t form so you signal for him to stay quiet. Any adverse reaction from him would alert staff and put a wrench in your plan and the secret you two have been keeping from the rest of the world for years.
“I just wanted to tell you, I’m so proud of you and the hard work you have been committed to for so long” your voice crackles through the ear buds, “You’re so talented and dedicated to what inspires you and I can’t wait to see what you do next, whatever it may be, I just hope it’s back in Seoul” you laugh, “Talk to you soon my Junnie”
“Thank you so much for your words, it means so much coming from you,” his eyes well with tears but he wears a smile the whole way home.
#svthub#diamond life network#wen junhui drabbles#wen junhui x reader#wen junhui fluff#svt jun#jun x reader#moon junhui x reader#moon junhui drabbles#seventeen jun#seventeen fluff#seventeen soft hours#jun x you#moon junhui imagines#wen junhui imagines#seventeen imagines#bennie’s works
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SERIES MASTERLIST
Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)
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Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally meet Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.
Read Gilded Constellations on AO3
Read the French Translation by @nagareboshi-chiyo
Paring: Sirius Black x Reader / Remus Lupin x reader / Wolfstar x reader
Chapter average: 5k - 6.5 k
Content: Smut in later chapters, Poly!Marauders, throuple, graphic descriptions of violence, MAJOR and minor character death (this is The Marauders Era guys, you know), jealousy, angst, pining, love triangle, LGBTQ+ themes, The Wizarding war 1.0, implied child abuse, possible proofreading errors, mental health struggles, hurt no comfort, hurt with comfort, period typical attitude, first war with Voldemort, canonical character's death, fluff, Requited Love, F/M/M, mostly canon-compliant.
Status: Ongoing (Weekly updates)
♡ Indicates SMUT
PLAYLIST
01 | Summer Breeze
02 | Escape
03 | Bitter Sweet Symphony
04 | Rainy Days and Mondays
05 | Good times
06 | Crazy Little Thing Called Love
07 | Peaceful Easy Feeling
08 I Fooled Around and Fell in Love
09 | The Fairy Feller's Master-Stroke
10 | Black Dog
11 | Do Ya
12 | You really got me
13 | Rebel, Rebel
14 | Maybe I’m Amazed
15 | No One Like You
Interlude (Q&A Event)
16 | Boogie Wonderland
17 | Tonight’s What It Means To Be Young
18 | Friends will be Friends
19 | Silver Bird
20 | Bad Moon Rising
21 | Fox on the Run
22 | Long Long Way From Home
23 | Hungry Eyes
24 | Peace of Mind
25 | I’ll get Even With You
26 | Hooked on a Feeling
27 | Can’t Take My Eyes Off You
28 | If You Want BIood, (You’ve Got It)
29 | With a Little Help From My Friends
30 | Bridge Over Troubled Water
31 | Strange Magic
32 | Come a Little Bit Closer
33 | More Than a Feeling
34 | You Belong to Me
35 | Chill of Desire
36 | Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy
37 | Gimme, Gimme, Gimme
38 | Let the Good Times Roll
39 | Running With the Pack
40 | Hot Stuff
41 | Urban Adventure
42 | Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
43 | Sympathy for the Devil
44 | No One But You
45 | Hold The Line
46 | Comfortably Numb
47 | Let Me Take You Home Tonight
48 | Dust in the Wind
49 | High Hopes
50 | Love the One You're With ♡
51 | Some Guys Have All The Luck ♡
52 | Twentieth Century Fox
53 | Too Much Love Will KiII You
54 | Sail Away Sweet Sister
55 | Noone Together
56 | Who Wants To Live Forever
57 | Play the Game
58 | Staying Power
59 | Break on Through
60 | Stone in Love
61 | Mr. Blue Sky
62 | Born to be Wild
63 | Something About You
64 | Put Out The Fire
65 | Spell Binder
66 | Hot Love
67 | What's On My Mind
68 | Mysteries and Mayhem
69 | Livin' Thing
70 | Back Talk
71 | We've Only Just Begun
72 |
73 |
74 |
75 |
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BONUS TRACKS:
Your Theories, The Note, The Costumes, Sirius and the Chimney, Sirius and Vix after the bad moon, Evans and Vixen, Remus and Vixen at the infirmary, Remus holding Sirius at DADA, Remus and Sirius’ height difference, the FOXSTAR picture, Art by @nineloseteeth, We're going French,
Leave a comment telling me if you want to join the tag list
A/N: Most Poly!Marauders fics are oneshots, where the relationship between characters is already established, and they're all happy and pleased with it. No issues, no drama, but I WANTED the drama. Couldn't find it, so I set myself up to write the story behind the stablished relationship. I wanted to know how they started dating each other, the jealousy, the will they won't they, because getting into a poly relationship can't be an easy task, and I wanted to explore that story. If you're interested: Welcome to Gilded Constellations!
#imagine#marauders era#marauders x reader#marauders x y/n#moony#padfoot#prongs#sirius black#sirius x reader#sirius black fluff#sirius x you#sirius x y/n#remus x y/n#remus x you#remus x reader#remus one shot#sirius black one shot#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar x y/n#wolfstar x you#sirius black x fem!reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#moony x reader#moony x padfoot#moony wormtail padfoot and prongs#moony x you#james potter#poly marauders
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fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!wonwoo x gn!reader 𐙚 wc: 339
natalia's note: this is definitely not inspired by wonwoo's appearance in mingyu's live
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“tired?” you asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the fluff ball that was currently occupying your chest.
wonwoo weakly nodded his head, his slightly curly hair tickling your neck, as he wrapped one of his arms that was around your waist a bit tighter. the second your boyfriend entered the bedroom in his and mingyu’s apartment, you knew he’d be slightly clingier than usual - wonwoo was always a tad needier when sleepy and tired, something you could never get enough of.
“want to go to sleep?” you murmured, running your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. you could practically feel him melt into your embrace.
“you can stay up if you want to,” wonwoo said, his voice no louder than a whisper. with a quiet grunt he propped himself on his arm, taking away his body warmth making you shiver, despite wearing one of his fluffy sweatshirts.
“come here,” you cupped his cheeks, stopping him from getting out of bed. you ran your thumbs over his soft cheeks, smiling at his sleepy expression. he looked like he was about to fall asleep sitting up. “your glasses, baby,” you giggled and pulled his new frames off his nose, setting them on your nightstand. “now we can sleep,” you smiled and leaned in to kiss his nose.
wonwoo returned your kiss with a shy smile, pecking you on the lips, and after saying a quiet "i love you", he took off his shirt and made himself comfortable on the pillows. "c'mere," he spread his arms so that you could lie on top of him for a change. placing your head in your favorite place - right above his heart, you felt your eyelids begin to droop.
“i love your long hair, you know,” you yawned. "we have to get rid of all the scissors."
"mhm, we have to."
the last thing you felt before you fell asleep was wonwoo's hand taking yours and placing it on his chest and a soft "sleep well, baby," whispered into your ear.
taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot
#seventeen#seventeen reactions#svt reactions#seventeen imagines#seventeen kpop#seventeen x you#seventeen x reader#seventeen carat#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen requests#seventeen reaction#jeon wonwoo#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo fic#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo#wonwoo seventeen#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x y/n#seventeen x y/n
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