#thanks for those good good tunes
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thoselittleboats · 1 year ago
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BG3 text - Raphael (7/?)
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Extremely controversial opinion, but I think people who don’t have the time or energy or wherewithal to brush a dog should stop acquiring dogs with coats that require brushing.
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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 months ago
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also "textless" versions of these, wahooo
#corned beef#joe iconis christmas extravaganza#bsol#speaking of >:3 & >:3 third time's the >:3 in successfully slammed both up against the window of joe iconis's car (twitter @'d & Seen)#which is really just a :3 but whom among us (orchestra hit) is not a little impish with it#first year i did fanart like wouldn't it be fun if joe saw & liked this. second yr like Same plus it did happen last time#then also recency Fun Times bias sure but he did make it a frame in his End Of Year Good Times Celebration video like >:'3#yes i draw exactly what i wanna draw b/c it's some specific thing i enjoy that much so Yep that is the xmas show to me#so powerfully i was moved like ooh fun xmas villain wrole?? in '19 when i was paying attention & relieved of some bmc closure malaise#by the xmas show but obv Least aware / knowledgable lol. technically showed up in '18 around nov/dec but no chance Right then of tuning in#i mean i had the capacity but did not know it existed / even Less helpful preexisting context. anyway so by the time the show returns#& i've done research in between & gone my god i am i live laugh loving like Yeah i'll do more fanart & omg cyril & omg krampusfucking#able to ramp it up this year & like just thanks to Drawing Experience i'm better at forging ahead through thee process even when it's#extra ambitious like my god am i in over my head? well keep swimming for the surface like only several times going [aaa....] only to yknow#not be that tripped up anyway but still go [(celebrate) christmas!!! (with me)] & be like Do It For The Krampusfucking Gift#one post for another like lighting up my life joe just coming out like ''who wants clips. first up Full Cyril Fucks The Krampus number''#like jeez made that happen And passed it along....it's always the like epitome of my art like i make the specific often really niche stuff#i really respond to; does anyone else enjoy this? if yes; Wheeee; sometimes this is also ppl Behind the really niche shit i enjoy#like i truly hope you do get that kick out of it as i slam it up to the window; worth a Highlight Of Your Year or not#the power of [i do like to Draw the things i latch on to] + [internet] for you#really the bsol design even More an event in ''how did i even do this'' b/c even when planning to make it slightly easier like well#fewer figures; i'll use ink pen so i hone the lineart less than i would to precisely get [line weight mostly irrelevant] Line Geometry#yet still going ruh oh i'm honing for sure. but then like did Most of the lineart all in one night + all the coloring the next round#when i draw quite slowly / the Honing is virtually always an inextricable part of my process like i do Nothing in less than Hours#like i think even my freewheeling bsol sketches posted just this morning took me at Least an hour; judging by vids i played in the bg lol#not quite calibrated to have Attuned Confidence In My Ability To Forge Ahead thusly like oh no if i don't have Momentum or it doesn't#happen to be one of those times things just spontaneously come out great right off without more honing / consideration we're fucked....#not actually the case but yknow still realizing this lol But still able to just pat myself on the shoulder like It's Manageable & it is/was
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niff-of-draws · 8 months ago
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jane prentiss on a string.
do you think god stays in heaven because he too fears what he has created.
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ducktracy · 1 year ago
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!!!NEW REVIEW!!!
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in a fitting twist of fate, we cap off the 2023 calendar year with, coincidentally, the final cartoon of 1941. perhaps best known for its 1947 remake Little Orphan Airedale, formally spawning the ever amusing Charlie Dog, Porky’s Pooch garners its own plentiful novelty through its mixed media backgrounds—90% of which are still photographs! a tale as old as time with a Clampett-ian twist, Clampett’s final cartoon with his “Katz unit” of animators follows Charlie’s Rover’s attempts to get himself a master: the terminally stubborn Porky Pig who wants absolutely no part in this.
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thedeadthree · 9 months ago
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🎵 for Karolina!
HI HI ALYSSA I HOPE YOU ARE WELLL !!!! ty ty so much!! i have had her on the brain lately i miss her SOO much :')) <3
send me a ♫ + a character’s name and i will respond with a song that reminds me of them. send a ♫ + a ship and i will do the same.
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✧ ― 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈 -`. dua lipa.
if you're good enough you'll find a way / maybe you could cause a girl to change (her ways) / do you think about it night and day? / maybe you could be the one to make me stay
#🌞: alyssa#risingsh0t#hi hi thank you SOO much for the ask dear i apologize for the delay!!#favoritest ask game everr i think <33 i have to rb it again i love talking about clowns and tunes ITS SO FUNN#if i havent rec'd you breach yet (i am POSITIVE thoughh bc faviee jdshnhk) i cant rec it enough especially book two *screams* SOO GOOD!!!!#i need to replay it again i miss her and michael so stonkinn MUCH#i would say though that this more applies to her ships in her c*od and c*yberpunk verses??#for c*od shes with ghostiee and in cybering punk shes with g*oro and this goes SOO well for those like?? to the letter ????#especially this line ty tyy d*ua for writing THE karol song it just.... GETS her especially in these verses !! <33#also with breach i feel like you would LOVEE gabriel and raquel hehee#in her v*tm verse shes a l*asombra <33 i have a backstory for her pre embrace i am workin on that i am SOO excited to look intoo#i may even incorporate it into her other verses too i lovee it? she was an orphan and bounced places and people right??#eventually she ended up in a convent preparing to be made a nun and then she dipped <33 stole a bunch of valuables on her way out ofc jhsbj#because of COURSE she did djnjfksnk that wouldnt be very karolina of her if she didnt!! very spark notes but short version but!! eeek!!!!#she wasn’t into it so she left but not before taking anything valuable with her on her way out i adore her sm 🥀💌😌#jsandkja moots if yall read all of that i am baking you cookies rn we are besties
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otwdfanfic · 1 year ago
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Ive been listening to your character playlists on my morning commute (cuz i desperately need more folk music and your playlists deliver delightfully on that lol) and on this particular listen i was absolutely sleep deprived (important context)
Hide and Seek got on and i was close to falling asleep, but HMMM WHATYA SAY woke me up like an alarm clock
Nearly fell off my train seat fr
Idk if this makes sense or is funny im still massively sleep deprived but to me this was hilarious LMAO
you on morning commute 🤝 me at 2:30am
sleep deprived and now listening to hide and seek
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kuiinncedes · 9 months ago
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c:
#i have been exercising waow 🤪#there’s this influencer ig lol alIie bennett on instagram who does#playlists that like u walk along to the beat and it gets faster and goes to a run for a bit and stuff#i’ve done tt/pd a couple times and i did her gIee one#they’re rly fun i’m glad i started tbh lol#i haven’t done it in like a week probably and i did speak n/ow tv today#BRUHHHHH spe/ak now is a struggle LOL#like it probably also has to do a the fact that i took a break and also that my shoulders/neck area hurts today#but that was pain LOLLLLLL it was hard#i gave up like right after the hour ended (which is how long it is anyway i just usually walk for a bit more after it’s done)#it’s interesting bc i think it’s like the songs on the album are longer so it maybe has less songs total for the hour#but ur going faster and for longer lol#anyway i love sp/eak now but idk if i’m gonna do this playlist again tbh lol 😭#i LOVEEEEE walking to some sn songs like sparks fIy mine etc#and those were on the playlist and so good#but some other songs are not as satisfying to walk to lol 😭 and the running songs weren’t super easy to actually run to the beat#not the fault of allie tho lol#tt/pd was rly fun to do and was a good one to start doing these with#like it’s more chill so there was less pressure to walk super fast or whatever lol#but they were all rly satisfying and easy to walk/run to the beat of#esp running to florida 🤩 lol so fun#the gIee one was SOOOOOOOO fun to do highly recommend if u have access to a treadmill and want to use LOL#i’ll probably be doing that one again#altho i was slightly cringing at like Iet’s have a kiki and i think a couple other ones LMFAO#and there was a lot of santana songs which is great but my mind was wandering and i kept thinking abt naya#but . overall very fun time lol#anyway that’s my random ramble lol 🤪 thank u for tuning in 😌💀#jeanne talks
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heavenbarnes · 11 months ago
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anyways, as i was saying about older bf!simon and his willingness to please learn
pt 2 to this
“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”
obviously, he hasn’t- far as he’s concerned, if you haven’t told him about it then it doesn’t exist to him.
no skin off your nose, you’d spend the rest of your life teaching him about the ‘latest trends’ if it meant he kept sending those filthy fucking videos to your phone.
(your favourites on tiktok were purely filled with ideas)
he’s holed up in a remote location, killing time till he can be home and actually do something to you rather than send you a bloody video about it.
your instructions come through clear and concise, just how he likes:
“it’s what’s written on the can, si- you can pick the setup but i just want to see you cum and, most importantly, i want to hear it”
you’re lucky simon is such a practical guy and maybe you could thank price one day for making him so good at following orders.
when he’s got his alone time he’s setting his phone up to record on the edge of the window sill, moonlight fighting through the curtain to illuminate him.
he’s lost the bulkiest of his gear, down to his tactical trousers and a compression t-shirt. the images in his tattoo sleeve almost move when the light catches them right.
balaclava on (the one that just shows his eyes above the painted image of a skull) and he’s standing up to undo his belt (that you think looks like an airplane seatbelt).
you can hear his boots against the floorboard as he steps back to give you the full view of him undoing his trousers, taking his sweet time because he knows it drives you fucking batty.
he’s so big that the phone is working overtime to get all of him in the frame but you see exactly what you need to- thick thighs at your eye line and massive hands drawing down his fly.
on (you assume) the other side of the globe, you’re at home in your shared bed and you’re propped up right in the middle with the smell of simon engulfing you as you watch the video play out before you.
(if you’d thought about it you should’ve cast it to the bedroom tv, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind)
simon sits back down with his legs spread wide, one hand gripping his thigh as the other rubs himself over his boxers. his eye contact with the camera was fucking intense, like you’d hoped, just like when he’s on top of you.
he’s dressed in all black and the moonlight is obscured but you can still see him firming up in his pants. his eyes flutter, an infinitesimal amount but you’ve been tuned into his every move since you met him.
your thumb leans hard on the volume up button and you can hear the diegetic sound of the building expanding and that usual technical hum that comes with a video. but at this pitch, you could hear him.
his breathing was chopped, chest expanding visibly as he pulled his cock out into clear view. jeeeeesus christ, it was never something you just got used to.
long, reasonably straight, fucking thick. even his hand struggled to make it look smaller as he wrapped around it, giving one dry tug.
as he closed his palm over the tip, you saw him make a swipe before he brought his hand back down considerably smoother than before. you’d had your hands down his pants enough times, man leaked like a fucking faucet.
simon’s head tipped back as he started to pull himself off, balaclava raising just enough to expose some of his throat. if you were there you would be perched in his lap, letting him do the work but running your tongue under the lip of the fabric.
one of the best things about the videos simon sent was, he didn’t really understand how sexy he was. he didn’t think any of the videos particularly watchable so he’d just send them on first take. if you liked them, you liked them- yours was the only opinion that mattered.
what that meant was, you never got b-roll. everything he sent you was unbridled perfection. captured exactly as it happens with no faffing about.
always whatever you’ve asked for, whenever you ask.
(simon’s nothing if not inexplicably obedient)
he brings his hand under his chin to spit into the wide span of his palm, wrapping back around his cock and tugging. his foreskin moved over the head, rolling back down and thick veins bulging under his grasp.
you’d almost forgotten the conditions of your request, totally fucking enamoured by the sight in front of you when it caught you off guard.
a guttural moan ripped out of simon’s chest as he twisted his wrist.
his free hand moved to cup his balls, big and heavy, he rolled them in his palm as another groan sounded out of him. what you wouldn’t give to be knelt between his thighs with the whole lot in your mouth.
you knew how much of an ask this was, you really had to work him up to making noise when it was just you two in bed. these days? you couldn’t shut the man up when he was balls deep and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.
but this was another step, this was him on his own with his crew just through the walls. he’d be a plain liar if he said there wasn’t that rumbling trepidation in his chest. he’d put it to bed though.
all he had to think of was you, one hand gripping your phone and the other between your thighs as you watched him through with a hazy smile- that kept him going.
with the thought still heavy on his mind, you didn’t have to strain to hear your name drift off his lips. his hips bucked into his hand as he did, speeding up the motion of his strokes.
you were going to black out, his tattoos flexing and his chest expanding with every stuttered breath. simon looked like a god among men and he fucking sounded like one too.
“fuck, sweetheart- you’re so fucking filthy giving me orders like this”
your cheeks were burning, he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t expecting him to call you out quite like this.
“what does that make me? always so fucking eager to do what you say? make a dirty old man, yeah?”
wheeeeeew that’ll do it, your thighs snapped together around your hand as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. whenever you thought you couldn’t take any more, he was always there to do you one better.
“only for you, pet- you can always get whatever you fucking want from me”
and you knew he was serious, that’s what made it all the more debilitating. simon was unshakeable, you’d seen him go out of his way to defy orders if he didn’t think the person worth his time.
when it came to you? you could tell him to kill and he would.
(he probably had)
simon’s hips were twitching, back arching in a way he’d rather die than have anyone else know about. his mouth was hanging open beneath the balaclava, your name and a string of expletives falling off his tongue.
so quick you nearly missed it, the hand that was cradling his balls moved to grip the fabric of his shirt and push it up his toned front. you couldn’t call his abs cut and defined, there was aged layer to them, but they were undeniably there.
you’d rested your head on them, pressed your palms against them, even ridden them enough times to know they were there. regardless, he looked fucking perfect under the moon glow as he stroked himself hard and long.
eyes locked onto the camera, broken moans on his lips, you saw his hips lift one last time as thick spurts of cum began to paint his stomach and chest.
scars illuminated under the night sky, mirrored by shiny patches of hot cum splattered across the same stretch of skin. the hairs on his chest were matted with sweat and were now being splashed with how far he was shooting.
you could only watch with your mouth hung open as he tugged himself through his orgasm. soon it was only the sound of his laboured breathing, chest rising and falling as he tucked his soft cock back into his pants.
just when you thought that was it, you found one of his hands lifting up the edge of his balaclava till his lips were exposed. two fingers of his other hand swiped up some of his spend before he lay them on his tongue.
knuckles in your mouth, biting down to suppress a scream, simon readjusted his clothes as he stood and took a heavy step towards the camera.
one hand braced on the window sill, the other gently gripping himself through his trousers- his voice was so fucking gravely it could’ve reverberated round your room.
“what’s next sweet’art? you name it, it’s yours”
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viridescentelf · 5 months ago
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Yandere elf x reader - Bath time :)
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Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Please check out her blog ✨ Another BIG thanks for creating him!
This is a follow-up to my last fic: if you want to read that one, click here. I'm not sure if I'll do another one, a bit out of ideas lol.
Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, explicit
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The water stung your damaged knee. Silas was preparing something in a wooden pail, humming some tune, while you sunk deeper into the hot spring. The water brushed your chin, as you glared at the back of the stupid elf’s head, bobbing back and forth as he dunked colorful fluids from flasks into the bucket. His long, luscious hair was levitating on the water's clear surface, covering his butt.
You were so close to freedom. He told you he’s enchanted the area now, stopping you from leaving entirely. No idea how that worked, but he showed you by pushing you gently against an invisible barrier. Your cheek had squished against the unseen partition, like when a human tests their cat’s intelligence against walls in those videos. “To protect you”, he explained in his sing-song trill.
If you hadn’t been injured, you would’ve made it. Away from this maniac.
“Look what Mama made!”
Silas held the bucket under your nose, smiling serenely. The liquid was a mix of pinkish goop and specks of sparkles. Your eyes lingered on the strange soup, then turned up to meet his excited face.
“What the fuck is this”, you mumbled crossly.
“No swearing, darling!” He patted your head. He didn’t know what the word “fuck” meant, but he read that it is bad for children to use. “It’s my healing salt! Doesn’t it smell amazing?”
Silas kept holding it under your nose. It did smell good, damn it.
“It will heal your poor leg. Plus, it makes everything feel a bit tingly. Healthy for cleaning up down there.” He gestured to his crotch.
Fuck.
Without warning, he dunked the solution into the bath. The mixture oozed slowly into the clear spring. The effect of it was almost instantaneous. You felt the biting pain ebb from your limb and you sighed in relief. Elf magic was so fascinating. If only Silas wasn’t such a freaking psycho. You would love to learn more about it. And then go back home and sleep in a bed without tits in your face.
He was right about the prickly sensation. You felt a warmth pulsate down there, as you absentmindedly sunk deeper into the water. Your gaze blurred and you felt the comfort of the heat engulf you.
Silas pulled you to him and placed you in his lap. His towering upper body remained out of the pool, the breezy touch of his skin a great juxtaposition to the searing heat of the water. To be fully engulfed, he would have had to spread himself across the whole spring, leaving no room for you.
You felt him grow below you. The effects of the water seemed to work on his form as well. His cheeks blushed.
“Be good, darling.” He breathed into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let’s heal you completely.”
Your leg was fine. You didn’t need any more healing.
Silas’ lips brushed yours, his tongue slinking quickly and entangling in yours. The potion and his saliva were making you go crazy, your lap roaring with want. It was impossible to bottle up.
The potion made movement slow. You were attempting to push away with the last of your wits, but it came across as you gently pressing his chest together. He misunderstood and held your face up to his breasts.
“Drink up…”, he trebled, leading your mouth to his hard teat. It was hopeless.
Your wet lips traced around it and you felt the elf jitter under you with excitement. His hands were softly trailing down your back and took hold of your bottom, squeezing the soft tissue. The water delayed his movement, but you felt him lift you slightly, hovering dangerously above his throbbing shaft.
You could feel him against your entrance, nudging slightly. The heat consumed you, thrumming in the area, wanting. You released your lips from his chest, gazing dozily into his red face. If he was blushing more, you could not tell. He looked so enthralled; the big, dumb eyes full of devotion to you.
Silas crashed into your lips again, kissing desperately, lapping up every part of your mouth. The more saliva you exchanged, the more you felt yourself pulsate. The waves within you crashed, begging for relief. You tried to use your arms to push him off of you, but they felt so limp.
You hated this effect he had on you. You couldn’t stop yourself. This surge and needing the release - it drove you insane.
Floating above him in the spring, you felt him twitch there in unfair expectation. He was far too massive for you.
Silas wrapped one arm around your waist, pushing you closer into his body. Your breasts compressed against his and he moaned shakily at the sensation.
“Mama will heal you, dear…”, he huffed after releasing himself from your lips, with bits of drivel escaping his mouth. “I lov-“
You couldn’t take it anymore. You sat down on him, letting the beginning of him enter you with a strong jerk. He filled you up, with just so little of him inside. Your entire body shook from the flash.
Silas head knocked back; his eyes crossed as he let out the loudest yelp you had ever heard from him. He had never felt you like this before. He only dared milking himself in your sweet mouth, for fear of tearing you apart. But this… the feeling of your tight, velvety walls, the little he could feel of it was enough to make his world spin.
He instinctively grabbed your hips with a jolt and lifted you up and down on him. He wanted more of that sensation, more. More. More!
You were bouncing on top of him and felt every sinew explode with electricity. He bucked his hips slightly when you bobbed back down, but not too much in fear of breaking you, slowly deepening each thrust.
Although you could hear his pitiful “Ah! Ah! Ah!”s, your entire environment seemed to muffle. All you could feel was the inconsolable penetration. The way every jab made your groin burst into flames. The water splashed vigorously around you, as he guided your body into his. He lifted you like you weighed nothing. His head was still jerked back with his eyes in the back of his head, it seemed he was unable to do anything other than plunge halfway into you.
You couldn’t help but release low moans yourself, the note of your bellows making him tense up more. His large hands were clasping your ass, the flesh spilling out between his long fingers. You whimpered and let him consume you, every thrust splitting your walls further. The loud clapping of your bodies and the vigorous splashing, you were intoxicated. The sounds. The sensation. It was diabolical.  
You let out a string of deep moans, as you came, the wetness around his shaft increasing as you tightened your grip around him. Silas couldn’t hold it any longer, either, as he erupted within you, squealing from the overwhelming pleasure.
He spilled out of you. A puddle of white foam bubbled around you. Silas heaved loudly, blinking excessively and tilted his head back forward, staring dumbfoundedly at you.
He looked like you beat him up. Tears were escaping his rippling eyes, as a tiny sob hiccupped out of him.
Fucking baby.
“D-Do you feel better now? Have I healed you?”, he squeaked, pulling you into his arm cages again.
You rolled your eyes and nodded out of sheer vanquish. There was no point explaining to him that this wasn’t how you heal humans. There was no point explaining to him that mothers don't do this.
Silas kissed your head and swirled his hand in the water, making his semen drift away from you. “Oh…all the precious milk. Gone…”
He grabbed a sponge from behind him and started cleaning you feebly, his hands still shaking from the massive release. You saw a tear fall from his cheek. Without thinking, you brushed another one off his cheek.
He gaped at you after the gesture, pausing his scrubbing.
“O-oh darling. You really love me, don’t you? That’s why it felt so good…”, he smiled widely, more tears splashing out of his googly eyes.
You didn’t answer. You didn't know why you just did that.
Silas hugged you so tightly, you let out a wheeze.
“I love you too, my sweet!!” he squeaked and squished you more. “It’s getting late. We still need to have dinner! And you need a proper portion of milk!”
You closed your eyes, sighing.
Another milking session...
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pomegranatesarchive · 8 months ago
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better streamer | max verstappen
pairing; max verstappen x streamer!reader
summary; after getting completely demolished on stream by user; fartsnifer max makes it his life purpose to win a game against her. to bad he never does and they fall in love instead.
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— fartsnifer has posted new photos!
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liked by, charlesleclerc, and 57,924 others!
fartsnifer: very nice stream tonight! thank you so much to all those who joined 🫶🫶 and thank you to all of my new followers! welcome, you are now all official fartsnifers 🔥
view comments below!
user1: i love your content but i will not be identified as a fartsnifer.
user2: i too did not want to identify as a fartsnifer. i am now proud to be one 😕
user3: being a fartsnifer is a PRIVILEGE. be proud
user4: i’m sorry but i can’t take you guys seriously while you’re calling yourself fartsnifers 😭😭
user5: this is the girl who embarrassed the f1 grid in cod?!?
user6: this is her!!!
charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1, @/landonorris, @/georgerussell63, @/oscarpiastri @/logansargent, @/alex_albon, @/danielricciardo
user7: bro tagged the whole family 💀
user8: LMAO CHARLES???
user9: how did he find her so quick 😭
user10: basically all of f1twt is talking about her 😭😭
maxverstappen1: @/fartsnifer check dms.
user11: MAX WHATTT
user12: willing to bet he’s asking her for a rematch
user13: that’s so ominous “check dms.” LIKE DAMN OKAY
user14: max just accept that she is better than you. it’s okay.
georgerussell63: well well well, if it isn’t fartsnifer herself.
fartsnifer: well well well, if it isn’t the guy who scream like a girl
georgerussell63: um actually, that was @/landonorris, NOT me.
landonorris: why are you lying?
user15: y/n replying to george and not max is killing me 😭
maxverstappen1: check dms.
user16: this is embarrassing max, one comment was enough
user17: i think he wants y/n to check her dms?
oscarpiastri: good game tonight! 👊
fartsnifer: thanks piastri!
user18: thank you oscar for showing y/n that f1 drivers do in fact have decorum 🧍
logansargent: don’t fraternize with the enemy Oscar.
maxverstappen1: check dms please.
user19: oh max…
user20: it just got even more embarrassing
user21: the way y/n is very clearly ignoring him is SO FUCKING FUNNY
user22: i love your content pls don’t die
danielricciardo: please answer Max’s messages.
user23: daniel did max make you do this???
danielricciardo: yes.
maxverstappen1: check dms.
user24: OMG MAX WE GET ITTTT
user24: y/n please answer his dms this is getting sad to watch
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— y/n l/n and max verstappen have shared a collaborated post!
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 392,839 others!
fartsnifer: join my stream tonight to watch me humiliate this 3x wdc!! 👊👊
view comments below!
user25: omg she actually answered his messages 😭
maxverstappen1: that is not the photo we agreed on.
fartsnifer: but this one was so much funnier!!
user26: oh i WILL be tuning in
user27: this is going to be the funniest thing ever
user28: strangers to lovers…
user29: OH BROTHERRR
landonorris: best buddy’s with the enemy now mate?
maxverstappen1: i must win.
user30: i love that photo of max
user30: the ways he’s just 🧍
charles_leclerc: woohoo!! go y/n 👏👏
georgerussell63: fake.
landonorris: she is the enemy charles!
logansargent: after she humiliated us on stream? i can’t believe this.
maxverstappen1: you sick traitor. after everything we’ve been through?
charles_leclerc: i like her videos guys 😕
user31: charles leclerc a official fartsnifer confirmed!!
user32: i was planning to sleep early today….but this seems more important
user33: oh but if i said enemies to friends to lovers…
user34: i would say you’re delusional!! 😝😝
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— y/n has posted new photos!
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 583,826 others!
fartsnifer: life feels good when you don’t have to pay for your own dinners 🤤 @/maxverstappen1
view comments below!
user35: hasn’t it already been over a month 🤨
user36: i think they played again and if y/n won max had to pay her dinners for ANOTHER month
user37: they just want an excuse to keep in touch 😒😒
user36: oh most definitely LMAOOO
maxverstappen1: when did i get you sushi?
fartsnifer: like three days ago remember????
maxverstappen1: ah yes! i remember now
user37: max is literally traveling the world racing and still finds time to order y/n dinner online EVERY SINGLE DAY.
user38: he wants her so bad and you can’t convince me otherwise 😐
landonorris: can you play today?
fartsnifer: don’t you have quali today???!?!
landonorris: i mean after 😒
fartsnifer: yeah just tell me when
maxverstappen1: can i join?
user39: omg max no
user40: oh i just got the worst second hand embarrassment jesus christ
user41: that was the saddest sentence ever written
fartsnifer: ofc you can maximilian!!
charles_leclerc: you shouldn’t try this delicious italian restaurant! i’ll send max the address!!
fartsnifer: thank you charles 🫶🫶
maxverstappen1; don’t thank him 🙄 I’m the one buying it.
user42: don’t be jealous max…
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liked by 273,827 others!
fartsniferupdates: queen fartsnifer herself was seen at the f1 austrian race today!! i think we ALL know who she was there for… 😉😉
view comments below!
user43: she flew to austria for a MAN ?? 🤨
user44: to be fairrrrr that man is MAX VERSTAPPEN so…
user45: they are so dating!! they literally left together and looked so happy
user46: i fucking knew it
user47: okay enemy’s to lovers…get it ig
user48: maybe y/n can let max win at COD now that they’re a…thing?
user49: y/n looks so good
user50: IKR!!! her hair is chefs kiss
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liked by, landonorris, charles_leclerc, fartsnifer, and 763,825 others!
maxverstappen1: finally payed for her dinner in person 💪
view comments below!
user51: oh HE posted her?? yeah he’s in love
user52: he ruined his entire feed aesthetic to post a picture of her 🥹🥹🥹
fartsnifer: i don’t like that picture🧍delete please!
maxverstappen1: karma!
maxverstappen1: and you look cute 🙄
user53: OH!!!
user54: yeah they are definitely dating
landonorris: finally!! God you were getting to annoying with your “she’s so pretty.” “and she’s good at games.” “do you think if we started dating she’d let me win.”
maxverstappen1: delete this.
fartsnifer: too late!! i’ve seen it. no max just because we’re dating doesn’t mean i will let you win
maxverstappen1: 😕
user55: OMG SHE JUST CONFIRMED IT?? THEY ARE ACTUALLY DATING?? HOLY SHIT
user56: girl he literally flew her out to watch him race. ofc they were dating 😭😭
user33: I FUCKING KNEW IT!! FUCK YOU ALL WHO SAID I WAS DELUSIONAL!! WHAT NOW HUH??? YOU SEE THIS?? I WAS RIGHT!! AHAHAHAH
charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️
charles_leclerc: that was for y/n, not max.
maxverstappen1: geez thanks mate!
fartsnifer: love you charles ‼️‼️
user57: LMAOOO
user58: the way charles became a full on fartsnifer fan is so crazy
user59: he literally talks about her all the time too 😭😭 when he was asked what he’s been watching recently he answered “i’ve been watching a streamer named fartsnifer! she’s funny.” he’s so proud about it
georgerussell63: you are all traitors!! after what she did to us that fateful day? i can’t believe this!
fartsnifer: you literally invited me for drinks tomorrow?? 🧍
georgerussell63: SHHHH 🤫🤫
user60: max is dating someone who gos by the name fartsnifer….yeah i didn’t see this coming
. . .
notes: thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed :))
4K notes · View notes
seumyo · 28 days ago
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 9:33
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Bakugou never believed he had room for love in his life. His world was defined by ambitions and goals he set upon himself—becoming Number One, proving what he can or cannot do, and making every moment count in the endless pursuit of the things that he thought would satisfy him for as long as he lived.
He knows what love is. He’d seen it in glimpses—his parents everlasting love, his friends falling over themselves for their crushes at UA back in high school—he knows.
But love wasn’t a luxury he thought he could afford, and even if it was, it wasn’t something he thought about often. Too caught up in the relentless wave of life.
At least, not until you.
He first met you on the job.
At that time, you were nothing more than his partner for this particular high-stakes mission. He initially rolled his eyes at the thought of working with someone new, but you managed to worm your way into catching his attention (and soon into his heart).
You weren’t too loud, flashy, or all bark and no bite like some of the heroes he worked with. You were sharp and methodical, always thinking two steps ahead, and your patience in the face of chaos was something he both admired and envied.
But admiration wasn’t love, not yet.
You were supposed to be just another hero to him—a capable one, sure, but nothing more than a colleague. Bakugou would never admit it aloud, but the way you carried yourself earned his respect quickly.
You weren’t one to back down, even when he demanded easy-fix solutions from you when it was nearly impossible given the situation. You’d meet his intensity halfway, standing your ground when you knew he was wrong—Bakugou thinks that the moment he met you, he’s never once been right.
It annoyed the hell out of him, of course, but it also earned his begrudging approval. It’s like meeting someone that could keep up with him.
He’s still getting used to that.
Still, it wasn’t love. Or maybe he was just in denial.
It started subtly, sneaking up on him like an enemy he couldn’t see coming—which is almost never because Bakugou’s been preparing for his whole life for as long as he could remember. So you were like a force that swept him off his feet, quite literally, when he remembers your first meeting, how you casually tripped him over all because he didn’t acknowledge your presence in the room.
Yeah, that one’s on him.
He began noticing things about you—little things he’d never paid attention to in anyone else. Like the way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you were passionate about—like those little figurines you said were Hironos, or the way your voice softened when she comforted a frightened child.
He noticed how you always managed to keep your composure, even when the odds were stacked against you. You had this way of making everything seem manageable... no matter how dire the situation.
And then there were the quiet moments.
Like the time you made coffee for the whole team during an overnight stakeout, remembering exactly how he liked his: strong, no sugar, just a splash of cream. You handed it to him with a knowing look, and for some reason, that simple act stuck with him longer than he expected.
“Coffee?” you offered.
Bakugou looked at you as if he were like a deer in headlights. “Yeah, thanks.”
He’s not a complete asshole, so he says thank you.
Or the time you were patrolling together, and he caught you humming under your breath. That pop song that’s trendier to the younger generation these days. It was such a soft, absent-minded thing, but it pulled at something in his chest. He didn’t even recognize the tune, but he found himself wanting to hear more.
It starts small. Then it comes all at once.
“You good?” he asks after finishing the given task.
You blinked up at him, nodding with a tired yet triumphant smile. “Peachy.”
That was when it hit him. The relief that washed over him wasn’t just because the mission was a success. It was because you were okay. And the thought of a world without you, even for a second, was unbearable.
Bakugou was screwed.
He started looking for excuses to spend more time with you. Walking you home after shifts, claiming he was “going the same route” even when his neighborhood was in the complete opposite way. Bringing you snacks during long patrols, muttering something about how he happened to have an extra. Offering to spar with you during training sessions, even though he hated sparring with people who weren’t on his level.
He hated how transparent he was being, how obvious his feelings were becoming. But for once in his life, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
The night Bakugou confessed, it wasn’t some big, dramatic moment. They were sitting on a rooftop after a long day, the city sprawled out below them, its lights twinkling like stars.
“You free tomorrow?” he asks abruptly, the words gruff and unpolished, like they’d been dragged out of him against his will.
You turned to him, your brows furrowed slightly. “Depends.”
“I— you...” he muttered, staring straight ahead. His hands clenched into fists on his thighs as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t know what it is about you, but… you’re different. You don’t take my shit, but you don’t try to change me, either. You’re just… you.” He finally looked at you, his crimson eyes filled with a rare vulnerability.
“And I don’t wanna imagine this—any of this—without you in it.”
You stared at him for a moment, your expression softening as the weight of his words sank in. Then you smiled, your hand resting on your cheek fondly.
“Are you asking me out on a date, Katsuki?”
If he weren’t uncharacteristically nervous right now, he would have made a wittier comeback. Bakugou’s chest felt impossibly tight, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something warm and steady, something he never knew he needed until now.
“Yeah, so? Whaddya say?”
“I’d absolutely love to go on a date with you.”
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focusonkayjay · 2 months ago
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nothing like us | oneshot
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: enemies to lovers, fake dating, corporate employees! jungkook & reader, angst, fluff
Word Count: 26k+
Chapter Warnings: mature language, mentions of blood, small injury (lmk if i missed something)
Playlist:
A/N: hello bbies <3 i firstly want to apologize for not posting these past few days. i've been so undeniably busy with uni and work and i totally didn't get the time to proof read before posting. anyways, i hope you like this new oneshot. it's not my best work but parts of it is inspired by "to all the boys i've loved before". (my fav hot tub scene). anyways let me know if you liked this one. muah <3
You take a sip of coffee in the dimly lit office coffee room, letting the rich aroma soothe your nerves. The quiet hum of the vending machine is the only sound accompanying you, a welcome reprieve from the chaos outside.
It’s been one of those days... emails piling up, back-to-back meetings, and a project deadline looming over your head. This is your sanctuary, a brief moment of peace in the hurricane of corporate monotony.
Your job isn’t terrible, though. It’s a typical corporate gig with all the spreadsheets, presentations, polite nods in meetings, and the occasional office drama. Sure, you’d rather be at home binge-watching your favorite series, but hey, bills don’t pay themselves.
As you savor the quiet, your moment of zen is abruptly interrupted. “Y/N-ahhh, there you are! I’ve been looking for you all afternoon!” You almost choke on your coffee at the familiar voice. With a resigned sigh, you turn to face Mrs. Lee.
Mrs. Lee is a middle-aged coworker who’s perpetually cheerful and undoubtedly kind. She’s the type of person who brings in homemade snacks for the whole team and remembers everyone’s birthdays. But she also has a certain... hobby... trying to convince you to go on blind dates.
“Hello, Mrs. Lee.” you greet her politely, though you can already guess what she’s about to say. She clasps her hands together, her smile lighting up the room. “So! Remember how I told you about my nephew who just moved to the city? He’s such a sweet boy, Y/N, and I just know you two would hit it off!”
You suppress a sigh, forcing your features into a polite expression. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Mrs. Lee, but—”
“Oh, don’t say no just yet! He’s a doctor, you know. Very handsome, tall, comes from a good family... he even volunteers at animal shelters in his free time!” she cuts you off, her smile only getting bigger.
You resist the urge to groan. This isn’t the first time she’s done this. In fact, it’s become a bit of a routine. She genuinely believes you’re some sort of eligible bachelorette in desperate need of matchmaking services. No matter how many times you’ve politely declined in the past, she always finds a way to circle back to it.
“Mrs. Lee...” you begin gently. “I really appreciate you thinking of me, but I’m not looking to date anyone right now. Things are just... really busy at work.”
She waves a dismissive hand, undeterred. “Nonsense! You work too hard, Y/N. A nice young man in your life would do wonders for you!” she says. Before you can come up with another excuse, a voice cuts through the room.
“Y/N... Mrs. Lee...” Suho’s head peeks into the coffee room, his usual friendly smile plastered across his face. “Mr. Cho is expecting all of us in the meeting room in five. Says it’s something... important.” he informs.
“Oh, Suho! Thank you, dear!” Mrs. Lee chirps, momentarily distracted. Suho flashes another warm smile before disappearing down the hallway. You silently thank him for the interruption, offering Mrs. Lee a tight-lipped smile as the two of you make your way out of the coffee room. But Mrs. Lee, ever-persistent, continues.
“Y/N, you really shouldn’t let opportunities like this slip by! Life is short, and my nephew really is such a catch—”
She goes on and on and you nod absently, tuning out her words as you walk down the hallway. But then, halfway there, your stomach sinks. Coming from the opposite direction, making his way to the meeting room, is fricking Jeon Jungkook.
Your steps falter for a moment, but you quickly recover, your face already settling into an expression of disdain. Jungkook’s sharp eyes sweep across the hallway, landing on you and Mrs. Lee.
Instantly, you see his jaw tighten, and his gaze flickers with something like annoyance before he rolls his eyes in that infuriatingly dismissive way he always does. You’re quick to mirror his reaction, rolling your eyes as if it’s a reflex.
Jeon Jungkook or let's just call him your biggest arch-nemesis in this corporate jungle.
The two of you joined the company around the same time, and from the very beginning, sparks flew... but not the good kind. Where you had opinions, Jungkook had ego. Where he had solutions, you had questions. You were never the type to back down, and he… well, he hated that.
It became an unspoken rule in the office that if there was a debate in the room, it would almost certainly come down to you and Jungkook.
Everyone at work knew about your rivalry. In fact, it was often a good source of entertainment for them. Colleagues would exchange amused glances during meetings, silently placing bets on who would win the latest argument. There were even whispered jokes about how HR should schedule weekly sparring matches so that both of you could get it out of your systems. But as amusing as it might’ve been for them, it was maddening for you.
It wasn’t that Jungkook was bad at his job... in fact, quite the opposite. There was no denying that the two of you were both extremely good at what you did. You were equally hardworking, equally determined to excel. If anything, that was part of the problem. Two strong personalities in one workplace rarely made for smooth collaboration.
The issue was that you and Jungkook barely saw eye to eye on certain matters. Whether it was strategies, execution, or even the smallest logistical details, there was always some point of contention that spiraled into an argument. It was as if the universe had specifically designed your opinions to clash with his.
And then there was his disgustingly unshakable confidence, the kind that made you want to roll your eyes so far back you could see the back of your mind. He carried himself with an air of smug assurance that made every interaction with him feel like a battle, one he always seemed convinced he was winning.
To make matters worse, he was also ridiculously attractive. It annoyed you to no end that someone who drove you up the wall could also make your stomach twist with just a glance.
His sharp jawline, perfectly styled hair, and those dark, piercing eyes seemed designed to undermine your ability to stay focused. And he knew it. Every smirk, every infuriatingly casual lean against your desk felt like he was taunting you, daring you to admit it.
But any time your thoughts veered into that dangerous territory, he’d open his mouth, say something infuriating, and all your annoyance would come rushing back, as strong as ever.
Of course, the office thrived on your interactions. The two of you were practically a live sitcom, providing endless entertainment for your coworkers. But sometimes, things got a little too intense, and someone would have to step in to calm you guys down.
Yet no amount of intervention could completely quash the fire that burned whenever you and Jungkook were in the same room. It wasn’t just rivalry... it was a war of egos, fueled by equal parts frustration and… something neither of you wanted to name.
The hallway feels smaller as the distance between you closes. Jungkook walks with an air of effortless confidence, his light blue dress shirt crisp and clean, the sleeves rolled up just enough to hint at his tattooed forearms. Over it, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater vest that adds a touch of casual sophistication, paired with black trousers. It’s annoyingly polished for someone who thrives on getting under your skin.
His dark hair is pushed back neatly, save for a single stray strand that rebelliously falls across his forehead. Despite his put-together appearance, the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips is enough to spark irritation.
Mrs. Lee, oblivious to the silent war brewing between you, continues talking about her nephew.
You can’t help but think Jungkook must enjoy this little rivalry of yours. He certainly doesn’t miss an opportunity to challenge you, whether it’s in meetings, brainstorming sessions, or even during team lunches. You’re pretty sure his smugness comes factory-installed.
As you enter the meeting room, the irritation doesn’t subside. The long rectangular table is surrounded by your coworkers, with Mr. Cho seated at the head. You take a seat, only for Jungkook to take the one directly opposite you.
Great. Just great.
He catches your gaze across the table and raises an eyebrow, as if daring you to start something. You don’t take the bait, instead turning your attention to Mr. Cho, whose grin is wider than usual. He clasps his hands together, his eyes sweeping across the room.
“So, I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting. This isn’t one of our regular check-ins.” he begins, pausing dramatically for effect. “I wanted to let you know about something exciting… our annual company holiday retreat!!!” he beams.
A murmur of enthusiasm ripples through the room. You take a deep breath, the announcement catching you a bit off guard. This will be your first time attending the retreat, and you’re not entirely sure what to expect.
Mr. Cho continues, his excitement palpable. “This year, we’ve decided to take things up a notch. The retreat will be held for a whole week at the Hanok Mountain Lodge, a luxurious resort nestled in the hills. It’s a stunning location with breathtaking views, cozy cabins, and plenty of activities to help us unwind and bond as a team.”
You glance around and notice your coworkers exchanging thrilled looks. Clearly, this retreat is a highlight for many of them. Mr. Cho goes on, describing the itinerary.
“There will be team-building workshops, outdoor activities like hiking and zip-lining, and of course, plenty of time to relax and enjoy the amenities. There’s also hot tubs, a spa, and for those of you who enjoy it, a private bar lounge. And let’s not forget our tradition... the talent show on the last evening!” He claps his hands together, clearly excited.
You shift in your seat, a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbling within you. A mountain lodge retreat sounded idyllic, but the idea of spending extended time with Jungkook outside the professional setting wasn’t exactly thrilling.
Hoseok, seated beside you, nudges your arm gently. You glance at him, and his heart shaped smile instantly puts you at ease. “It’s your first time, right?” he asks, his tone soft but teasing. “Don’t worry, it’s going to be a lot of fun. They always plan these things really well.” he says. You smile back with a nod, grateful for the reassurance.
As Mr. Cho wraps up his briefing, your initial apprehension begins to fade, replaced by a tentative excitement. A luxurious mountain lodge retreat does sound like a dream... if you ignore the part where Jungkook would also be there.
//
It’s the day of the retreat, and the soft hues of dawn paint the sky as the company bus idles at the curb, its engine rumbling like a low purr. The bus is alive with chatter, a mix of excitement and sleepiness as everyone settles into their seats. Conversations flow freely, punctuated by laughter and the occasional clink of coffee thermoses.
You’re seated midway down the bus, comfortably beside Hoseok. He’s leaning slightly towards you, gesturing animatedly as he talks about the best hiking trails around the lodge. His voice carries a warmth that puts you at ease, and you find yourself nodding along, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you sip your coffee.
The bus door hisses open, and Jungkook steps in, dressed in a casual, perfect combination of a black hoodie and fitted jeans. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he didn’t try but somehow still managed to look effortlessly good. His eyes scan the bus with practiced disinterest, sweeping over rows of coworkers until they suddenly land on you.
You, with your head tilted slightly towards Hoseok, a small laugh escaping as he finishes whatever he's saying. Hoseok's grin is wide as he teases you about something that Jungkook can't hear.
Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his posture stiffening. The sight is a familiar punch to the gut, a wave of something uncomfortably sharp and consuming. He can’t name it... doesn’t want to name it... but it churns in his stomach like an unwelcome storm. His grip on the strap of his bag tightens.
Every time this happens, he tell himself it's just irritation. After all, it’s not like he cares who you talk to. You’re just his rival, his constant thorn. But deep down, a crack forms in that reasoning, and he’s too stubborn to look any closer.
His gaze flickers away, quick and practiced, like an artist shading over a mistake. He moves down the aisle with a measured stride, ignoring the way his chest feels inexplicably heavy. His long legs carry him past your row, but not before his sharp ears catch the sound of your sweet laugh again. It grates against the knot forming in his chest, pulling tighter with every step.
Jungkook finally drops into a seat two rows behind you, tossing his bag onto the empty seat beside him. He slouches back, his head resting against the cold window. The faint vibrations of the bus barely register as he plugs in his headphones, choosing a random playlist in an effort to drown out his thoughts.
But the music doesn’t help. It doesn’t drown out the sound of your laugh or the way you seemed so at ease with Hoseok. And it certainly doesn’t ease the sting that came with seeing you look at someone else with that kind of attention.
He stares out the window, his reflection faint against the backdrop of the city streets rolling by. He tells himself, whatever he's feeling right now, it’s annoyance, irritation at your loud conversation, frustration at your inability to keep your voice down. But the truth creeps in, unwelcome and undeniable.
It unfortunately isn’t just irritation. It’s something deeper, something he refuses to acknowledge because acknowledging it would mean confronting feelings he’s buried under layers of rivalry and pride.
So he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as if that will banish the image of you and Hoseok from his mind. He’ll bury this feeling just like he does everything else, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter. That you don’t matter.
But even as the bus begins to move, carrying everyone towards the retreat, Jungkook’s thoughts stay rooted in the seat two rows ahead of him. And unfortunately, no amount of distraction can change that.
//
The sprawling mountain lodge looms ahead, its rustic charm blending seamlessly with the dark green peaks in the distance. You tug your suitcase behind you, the wheels skidding slightly on the cobblestone path leading into the cozy yet grand lobby.
The warm scent of cedarwood and faint spices greets you as you step inside, though it does little to ease the exhaustion weighing on your shoulders.
You sigh, rubbing your neck while Hoseok approaches the reception desk to sort out room assignments. Your gaze roams the space, marveling at the high ceilings adorned with wooden beams and the crackling fire in the massive stone fireplace. A few coworkers are scattered about, chatting in groups or eagerly collecting their keys.
At least everyone gets their own cabin for the retreat, a luxury you hadn’t expected. The thought brings a small sense of relief since you don’t have to worry about sharing space with anyone. You glance at Hoseok, who’s still sorting through paperwork with the receptionist, and shift your weight impatiently.
Suddenly, someone brushes past you, the sharp bump to your shoulder jolting you slightly off balance. You gasp, turning quickly, ready to unleash a tirade, only to freeze when you see who it is.
Jungkook. Of course.
His bag strap hangs loosely off one shoulder, his free hand gripping the handle of his sleek black suitcase. He doesn’t even look at you at first, his gaze fixed ahead, but the unmistakable smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s done. “Watch where you’re going, jerk.” you snap, glaring at him as you adjust your stance.
Finally, he turns to face you, one brow raised in mock amusement. His dark eyes glint mischievously as he takes a step closer, shrinking the space between you. “Me? Watch where I’m going?” he asks, his voice smooth but laced with condescension. “You’re the one standing in the middle of the way, completely zoned out.” he argues.
Your eyes narrow. “Excuse me for existing.” you bite back, crossing your arms. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy stomping around like you own the place, you wouldn’t go around slamming into people.” you add.
Jungkook chuckles, the sound low and irritatingly melodic. “Stomping? Dramatic much?” He leans in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel personal. “And for the record, if you can’t handle a little nudge, maybe you should stick to your cozy desk back at the office.” he chuckles.
Your glare sharpens, heat rising to your cheeks. “At least I don’t go out of my way to antagonize people every chance I get.” you retort, your tone matching his for intensity. He shrugs, feigning innocence. “Antagonize? That’s a big word for someone so easily rattled.” he grins.
You’re about to respond, the words teetering on the edge of your tongue, when Hoseok's voice cuts through the tension. “Uh, hey.” he says awkwardly, stepping between the two of you with an uncertain smile as he holds out your keycard. “Here’s your key. Sorry for the wait.” he says.
Jungkook steps back, his smirk faltering slightly as his gaze flickers briefly to Hoseok, then back to you. “Thanks, Hobi.” you say, your voice a little too tight as you grab the keycard from his outstretched hand.
He ignores the little pang in his chest and his smirk returns, adjusting his suitcase with an almost lazy confidence. “Enjoy your cabin, princess.” he quips, his tone laced with sarcasm and just enough smugness to make your blood boil. Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and strides off towards the cabins, his retreating figure exuding infuriating nonchalance.
You glare at his back, gripping your keycard so tightly it threatens to snap. “Ugh, I hate him.” you mutter under your breath, your frustration spilling out in a huff.
Hoseok, who’s been quietly observing the exchange, lets out a soft chuckle. “You sure about that?” he teases lightly, reaching down to grab your suitcase. “He seems to get under your skin pretty easily.” he says.
You narrow your eyes at him but don’t bother responding, knowing Hoseok’s teasing will only get worse if you try to deny it. Instead, you let out a long sigh, forcing yourself to focus on the warm, inviting surroundings of the lodge instead of Jungkook’s maddening smirk.
//
The sun has dipped below the horizon, leaving the mountain lodge bathed in a soft, dusky glow. The campfire in the center of the lawn crackles gently, sending sparks into the chilly night air.
Since it's the first night of the retreat, everyone is gathered around, wrapped in cozy sweaters and thick blankets, their laughter and conversation blending with the soothing sounds of the wilderness as they all try to free the tiredness from the journey.
You hug yourself tightly, relishing the warmth of your oversized sweater as you make your way towards the group. The flickering firelight dances across familiar faces, and your eyes briefly catch on Jungkook, seated off to the side, his attention fixed on his phone. His sharp profile is illuminated by the glow of the screen, but you quickly brush your gaze away, deciding to ignore him entirely.
Your eyes land on Hoseok, who waves you over with an easy smile and you instantly slip into the seat beside him. “Hey.” he greets warmly, his voice soft but welcoming over the crackle of the fire.
You smile back as you settle into the chair, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. “The bathrooms here are insane.” you say, your tone full of genuine awe. “I had the best shower ever. It felt like I was in a spa.”
Hoseok's smile never falters, as the two of slip into an easy conversation. His warm laughter and encouraging nods draw you in, and eventually, the campfire becomes a hub of chatter as everyone around takes turns to share random stories.
The crackling of the fire accompanies the easy flow of conversation, casting a cozy glow that makes the group feel like an extended family.
Suho begins, leaning forward with excitement as he recounts how he met his girlfriend at a concert. "I swear, it was like fate." he breathes out, grinning. "I dropped my ticket, and she picked it up. I thought I’d just thank her, but then we ended up talking the entire show." His story gets a round of amused chuckles and giggles.
Mr. Park dives into tales about his grandchildren. "These kids..." he says, shaking his head fondly. "They're way too smart for their own good. Last week, my grandson hacked into my phone to change my ringtone to a dog barking.... at the grocery store." The image sends everyone into peals of laughter.
Ryunjin jumps in next, sharing her cat’s latest antics. "He’s obsessed with his tail." she says, gesturing wildly. "But the problem is, every time he catches it, he gets mad, like he’s offended it’s attached to his body." Her exaggerated impressions of her cat has everyone laughing until their sides hurt.
As people continue talking, from his spot on the other side of the fire, Jungkook sits quietly. He barely pays attention to what his coworkers are saying because his gaze keeps flickering to you and Hoseok. He watches the way your face lights up when you laugh, the way you lean towards Hoseok to whisper something into his ear.
The sight twists something uncomfortably tight in Jungkook’s chest, though he stubbornly pushes the feeling aside. Why do I even care? he thinks, his jaw clenching slightly as he forces his attention back to whatever some random coworker is saying.
Yet, no matter how much he tells himself to look away, his eyes betray him. They keep drifting back to you, catching every smile, every laugh, every shared glance with Hoseok. A faint scowl forms on his face, though he tries to mask it.
As the night wears on, it's your turn to narrate a story as you explain a random incident about a hike you went on, way back in high school. "We were climbing this trail that was way steeper than the brochure let on." you say, gesturing animatedly. "And then my friend thought it’d be a great idea to race to the top. Long story short, we all ended up face-planting in the dirt halfway up."
The group laughs, but before you can continue, Mrs. Lee interjects, her voice cutting through the firelit circle like clockwork. “Y/N, dear...” she says with a conspiratorial grin. “All this talk about hikes makes me wonder… are you planning on taking someone special on one anytime soon?” she wiggles her eyebrows.
You freeze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Hoseok stifles a chuckle beside you, leaning closer. “Here we go again.” he whispers.
Everyone’s attention turns to you, their curious eyes waiting for your response. You hate being the center of attention in conversations like this, but you manage to muster a polite smile. “I think I’ll be hiking solo for a while, Mrs. Lee.” you reply lightly, hoping to deflect her matchmaking attempts.
But before the conversation can move on, Minhyuk, a coworker from another team... notorious for his unwelcome advances and unwanted flirtatious attempts to pursue you, jumps in.
“Why solo when I’m right here?” he says, his grin annoyingly smug as he leans forward on his seat. “Y/N, you don’t need blind dates or solo adventures when you’ve got someone like me.” he smirks.
The group chuckles, though the reactions are a mix of genuine amusement and secondhand embarrassment. You glance at him, trying to suppress an eye-roll. “Thanks, Minhyuk.” you say, your voice tinged with forced politeness. “But I think I’m good.”
Hoseok smirks beside you. “Wow, that’s… subtle.” he mutters, just loud enough for you to hear. The tension starts to build, the awkwardness settling in like an unwanted guest, but before anyone else can say anything, another voice cuts through the conversation, deep and commanding.
“She doesn’t need you, Minhyuk.” Jungkook suddenly says from across the fire. His tone is calm, but there’s an edge to it that makes everyone sit up a little straighter. His gaze locks on Minhyuk, his expression unreadable. “Y/N’s already dating someone.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Heads swivel towards Jungkook, then towards you, expressions ranging from amused to utterly shocked. You blink at him, your brain scrambling to process what he just said. You’re dating someone? And you didn’t even know?
A mix of confusion and frustration floods your thoughts as you watch Jungkook from your seat, utterly bewildered. What the hell is he trying to pull?
Mrs. Lee, of course, is the first to recover. She clasps her hands together, her eyes practically sparkling with excitement. “Oh, my! Y/N, is this... is this true? So you won’t be hiking solo after all?” she teases, her tone light, but the curiosity in her gaze is anything but subtle.
Her words snap you out of your daze, and your first instinct is to deny it, to clear up the misunderstanding before things spiral even further. But as your lips part, Jungkook speaks again, his voice calm and steady.
“That’s right.” he says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smirk. “She’s all set. No blind dates, no solo hikes. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”
You whip your head towards him, your confusion now tinged with annoyance. His expression is maddeningly composed, as if this is all part of some elaborate plan you’re not privy to. He meets your gaze, and for a fleeting second, you catch a glimmer of something... something almost possessive, before it disappears behind his confident facade.
Hoseok shifts beside you, clearly enjoying the spectacle. “Well...” he says under his breath. “This just got interesting.”
You glare at him briefly before turning back to Jungkook, your brain working overtime to decide whether to play along or call him out. All around you, the group buzzes with low murmurs and playful remarks, the campfire’s warm glow doing little to soothe the sudden heat rising to your cheeks.
"Who's the lucky guy?" Suho laughs, his tone light, as a few others nod eagerly, their curiosity piqued. All eyes are on you now, and you’re suddenly aware of how small your seat feels in the circle. You open your mouth to speak, to deny the entire thing and set the record straight, but Jungkook beats you to it. Again.
“I really didn’t expect the news to come out like this.” he says smoothly, his voice calm but carrying just enough emotion to sound sincere. His gaze sweeps over the group before landing back on you. “But we’ve been keeping it quiet for a while now.”
The reaction is immediate. A collective murmur ripples through the circle, voices tinged with shock and curiosity. Some are louder than others, people audibly gasping unable to hide the utter shock of this unexpected news.
You blink rapidly, your brain doing cartwheels trying to keep up with what’s happening. Quiet for a while? What is he even talking about? Your confusion turns to frustration, and you turn to Jungkook, but he’s already leaning back in his seat, wearing an expression so convincingly nonchalant that it makes your blood boil.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Minhyuk’s voice cuts through the murmurs, his tone laced with disbelief and annoyance. “Are you telling me Y/N’s been dating you this whole time?” He gestures vaguely towards Jungkook, his irritation barely concealed.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Jungkook replies, his voice steady and unbothered, as though the entire conversation is beneath him. He leans back casually, his hand resting on the arm of his chair, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that sound so surprising?”
The group collectively reacts, their wide-eyed expressions bouncing between disbelief and shock. And honestly? Fair, because who would believe it. The only form of interaction anyone’s ever witnessed between the two of you has been laced with sharp rivalry, sarcastic comments and deathly glares.
“The joke’s on us.” Mr. Cho interjects suddenly, his tone tinged with playful regret. “We’re the idiots for thinking they hated each other. All this time, these two lovebirds were up to something totally different.” he says as everyone agrees with him.
Your lips part, indignation rushing to the surface as you shake your head. “It’s not what it looks—”
“We just didn’t want to get caught.” Jungkook cuts in smoothly, completely ignoring your protest. His tone is measured, almost too casual, as if he’s rehearsed this. He glances at the group, offering a shrug. “It would’ve made things awkward, you know?”
To your complete and utter disbelief, the crowd buys it. They actually believe the crap he's saying. Heads nod in understanding, murmurs of agreement ripple around the fire. It’s the most ridiculous explanation you’ve ever heard, and yet they’re accepting it like it's the most normal thing ever.
Your scowl deepens as you glare at Jungkook, who doesn’t so much as glance your way. Instead, he’s perfectly composed, acting like this is all just another day in his life. Meanwhile, you’re left fuming, the crowd’s reactions only stoking your frustration.
“If everyone will excuse me... I need to have a word with my... boyfriend.” you finally manage to say, your voice laced with barely concealed irritation. The last word comes out sharper than you intend, carrying just enough edge to earn a chorus of hoots and teasing laughter from the group.
“Ohhh, someone’s in trouble!” Suho calls, while Mrs. Lee clasps her hands over her heart as if this is the most romantic thing she’s ever seen. You can feel the amused gazes burning into your back, but you refuse to look at anyone.
The crowd’s reactions only fuel your annoyance. You rise from your chair, your movements brisk. Jungkook barely has time to react as you stride over to him. Before he can say a single word, you grab his arm and tug him out of his chair with more force than necessary.
Without sparing him a glance, you drag him away from the fire, ignoring the whistles and giggles echoing behind you. Someone, probably Ryunjin, makes a half-joking comment about you two sneaking off to "make up" or something equally ridiculous, but you’re too annoyed to care.
The moment you’re far enough from the group, heading towards the cabins, you whirl around to face Jungkook, still gripping his arm. “What the hell was that?” you shriek, your voice seething with anger. "WE are dating? Really?"
Jungkook chuckles softly, his fingers gently prying your hands from his arm. “Relax, princess.” he says, his voice calm yet dripping with smugness. “I only said that to help you out.”
“Help me out?” you echo, stepping back dramatically with your arms crossed, your face twisting into mock surprise. “Wow, Jungkook, what a saint. Should I start kissing the ground you walk on now, or later?”
He smirks, clearly enjoying himself far too much. “That ass Minhyuk was clearly making you uncomfortable. I figured I’d step in before he turned the bonfire into his personal Y/N fan club.” he shrugs.
You open your mouth to retort but pause, your brows furrowing slightly. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong about Minhyuk being a creep, but still you let out an exasperated groan, your arms flailing. “Oh, please. I could’ve handled him just fine without your big rescue act.”
“Right.” he drawls, leaning lazily against the cabin wall, his hands tucked into his pockets. “Because your plan of glaring daggers at him and clenching your fists was totally working. I mean, nothing screams ‘back off’ like the homicidal vibe you were giving off.”
You glare at him, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what makes you think I couldn’t have handled it? I literally told him I was good and that I didn't need him.”
“Oh, you did.” he agrees, a playful spark in his eyes. “But then you’d have Mrs. Lee trying to ‘mediate’ or whatever by trying to set you up on another one of her infamous blind dates. Admit it, I just saved you from weeks of awkwardness.”
You blink at him, caught off guard by how easily he brought Mrs. Lee into this. “Wait, so this whole ‘fake boyfriend’ thing was just to dodge her matchmaking?” you question. “Well, partly.” he shrugs, tilting his head like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Figured you’d rather deal with me than spend another evening making small talk with some random accountant she thinks is your ‘perfect match.’ You’re welcome.” he grins.
You let out a scoff, crossing your arms again. “Oh, I see. So now you’re my knight in shining armor?” you arch a brow at him. “Finally, you get it.” His smirk grows.
“Shut up.” you snap, unable to stop the look of irritation on your face. “And for the record, I’d much rather deal with Mrs. Lee than this.” you add, gesturing the space between you.
“Really?” His voice takes on a teasing tone, and he steps closer, his gaze locking with yours. You try to ignore the way your heart is hammering in your chest and continue glaring into his eyes. “Then why are you so rattled, huh? Afraid you’ll actually fall for me or something?” he narrows his eyes, his smirk only growing.
You scoff, heat rising to your cheeks, but you refuse to let him see you falter. “Fall for you? In your dreams.” you bite back. “Ouch.” he says, clutching his chest dramatically like you’ve shot an arrow straight through his heart. “And here I thought you’d be grateful. This is how you repay me?”
“Grateful?” You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Jungkook, I don’t think you understand. You just lied to everyone we know and made it sound like we’re madly in love or something.”
“Well…” His grin widens, that playful glint in his eyes sparking something unwelcome in your chest. “It’s not that hard to believe, is it?”
Your jaw drops, and you glare at him, incredulous. “Fuck, there's nothing like you... you are literally unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably charming.” he quips without missing a beat, his smirk downright infuriating now. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be the best fake boyfriend you’ve ever had.” He nods as if he’s doing you a massive favor. “Fake boyfriend?” you echo, your voice an octave higher as your frustration bubbles over.
“Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand the gravity of the situation here? Everyone’s going to expect us to get along now. They’re going to expect us to act like a real couple. And with the way we are, they’ll figure out this isn’t real before this trip is even over. Do you realize how humiliating that will be?”
You wave your hands around animatedly as you ramble, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. Jungkook watches you with a maddeningly calm expression, arms crossed over his chest like he’s enjoying the show.
He chuckles again, that infuriatingly relaxed sound that makes you want to pull your hair out. “Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s not that bad. You get to hang out with me, look like the perfect couple, and keep Mrs. Lee and Minhyuk off your back. Sounds like a solid win for you.” he says with that signature cocky grin.
You scoff. "This is ridiculou—"
“And yet...” he interrupts smoothly. “You didn't deny it out there... in front of everyone. Makes me wonder if there’s a tiny part of you that doesn’t mind the idea.”
You open your mouth to retort, but no words come out. The sheer audacity of his statement has stolen your breath. He leans in slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “See?” he murmurs, his voice soft but teasing. “Speechless. I must be onto something.”
You groan, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to steady yourself. “You know what, I don’t even care anymore. You're responsible for this mess, so you deal with it.” you mutter, taking a deep breath to try and calm the storm brewing inside you. “I just want to enjoy this whole retreat in peace.”
Jungkook watches you for a moment, his eyes softening just a fraction before he shrugs, as if this entire exchange is just a game. “Fine, fine. Peace it is. But you know...” he adds, his voice teasing but with a hint of something genuine, “It wouldn't hurt to enjoy it a little more with me. You know, since I’m your fake boyfriend and all.”
You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his words send an unexpected flutter through you. “Don’t push it, Jeon.” you mutter, though the corner of your mouth twitches slightly, betraying the tiniest bit of amusement. You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from this conversation.
“Alright, alright.” he relents with a dramatic sigh, from behind you. “But remember, when you find yourself accidentally falling for me, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he quips, quickly walking past you. You grumble to yourself as you watch him walk away, approaching the lawn where everyone's seated.
You have no idea what this retreat has in store for you, especially after the insane turn of events on just the first night. Jungkook, of all people, is supposed to be your fake boyfriend in the prying eyes of your coworkers. You're still processing the fact that you’re stuck with this ridiculous situation, and you have no idea how you're going to pull it off.
But, as much as you hate to admit it, there's a tiny part of you that feels... surprisingly... grateful. Grateful that, for once, you don’t have to deal with creeps like Minhyuk or relentless matchmakers like Mrs. Lee.
Sure, dealing with Jungkook might be a headache, but at least he's got this whole "fake boyfriend" thing down, and for the moment, he’s temporarily keeping the pressure off you. You can't help but feel a little bit of relief knowing you won’t have to dodge constant questions about your non-existent love life this entire trip.
And something about this new dynamic, has you questioning everything between the two of you.
//
Finally, the retreat kicks off the next morning, and the first activity is an early morning hike. The air is crisp and the excitement buzzes in the atmosphere. To make things more interesting, everyone's decided to pair up and whichever team is the first to reach the top, wins a medal and a small trophy.
As you stand at the base, fidgeting with your water bottle, you can’t help but wonder what kind of chaos this day might bring, especially considering the mess you’ve gotten yourself into with Jungkook.
You’re eagerly waiting for Hoseok to arrive, fully prepared to be his hiking partner, when suddenly you hear a voice behind you.
"Waiting for me?" Jungkook’s voice is laced with that familiar smugness, and when you turn, you see him leaning casually against a tree near you, his arms crossed. His signature smirk is in place, as if he knows something you don’t.
You roll your eyes, already feeling the irritation creeping in. "Please, I’m waiting for Hobi." you reply dismissively, trying to avoid his gaze.
Jungkook's heart twists at your words, but he hides it behind a playful mask. "Wouldn't it be weird if you're pairing up with someone other than your... boyfriend?" he says, his voice lowering slightly as he leans in closer. His words hang in the air, and you feel a strange hesitation ripple through you.
You freeze for a moment, realizing the truth in his statement. It would be weird especially considering, the weird situation he had put the both of you in last night.
After yesterday, the idea of pairing up with anyone else, especially with the whole team now thinking you and Jungkook are some love-struck couple, would look suspicious. And if you really want to make this whole fake boyfriend thing work, you’re going to have to keep up the act... at least for the sake of saving face.
Your mind races, weighing your options, but when you glance over at the others, you see the curious glances, the whispers starting to form, and you know you can’t back out now. With a reluctant sigh, you turn back to Jungkook.
"Fine." you say, rolling your eyes for effect, though a small part of you is resigned. "But don't get any weird ideas. This is just for the hike."
Jungkook’s grin widens, and his eyes gleam with that mischievous glint. "Of course, princess. No weird ideas." he teases, but the way he looks at you suggests there’s more to this than just the hike.
As you both walk towards the trail, the weight of the situation hits you. This is it, you're officially stuck with him for the duration of this retreat, whether you like it or not. But as you glance at Jungkook, his confident strides beside you, you realize there might be more to this pairing than just avoiding humiliation.
You quickly shake off any lingering thoughts and turn your focus to the hike ahead. The trail is steep, rocky, and not exactly beginner-friendly, but you’re determined to stay ahead of the pack. Each step is carefully calculated, your legs pushing through the exhaustion as you navigate the uneven terrain.
Jungkook, walking beside you, watches with an almost bemused expression. He notices the fierce concentration on your face, the way your brows furrow ever so slightly as you push yourself harder with each step. You’re not one to give up easily, and it’s kind of impressive.
"You really are something, huh?" he teases, his voice cutting through the wind. "Who knew you'd be so competitive." he asks, like he already doesn't know that about you, considering the heavy competition that always takes place between the two of you back at the office.
You glance at him, rolling your eyes. "I’m not competitive." you huff, focusing on your footing. "I just don’t want to lose, especially to people who think they can beat us."
Jungkook chuckles, but his eyes are still focused on you. “Uh-huh. Sure.” His tone is playful, but there's something a little softer in his gaze as he watches you stride forward, determined and focused.
With each step, your legs begin to burn, but you push through it. The air grows thinner as you make your way up the mountain, and soon, you notice that you and Jungkook have managed to pull ahead of the rest of the group. At some point, it’s just the two of you... no one else even in sight. You can’t help but feel a tiny surge of pride.
Jungkook, though, seems to be taking it all in stride, effortlessly keeping pace with you. “Looks like we’re in the lead.” he says with a grin, clearly enjoying the challenge.
Just as you’re about to reply, the trail gets more rugged. The rocks beneath your feet become looser, the path steeper, and suddenly, you lose your balance. Before you can even react, Jungkook reaches out, steadying you by grabbing your hand.
“Easy there, princess.” he teases, his fingers curling around yours with a casual yet firm grip, as though it’s second nature to him.
You try to ignore the warmth of his hand against yours, but the sensation lingers, a pulse of heat running up your arm. His hand fits perfectly with yours, and for a second, you forget about everything... about the hike, the competition, even the ridiculousness of the situation.
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression is focused on the path ahead, but there’s a subtle glint in his eyes, something mischievous. He knows how much his touch is affecting you, and you know he’s enjoying it a little too much.
You’re so distracted by everything... his touch, the heat flooding your chest, the odd fluttering in your stomach... that you don’t even see the giant twig lying across the trail until it’s too late. One moment you’re walking, and the next, your foot catches it, sending you sprawling forward. You yelp as your knee slams into the rough ground, the pain sharp and immediate.
Jungkook is quick to react, his hand shooting out to steady you before you can fall further. “Shit!” he exclaims, his voice full of concern. He crouches beside you as you wince, glancing at your scraped knee. Blood begins to seep from the wound, the large scratch standing out against your skin, especially since you’re wearing a pair of biker shorts.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice more worried than you expected. He quickly helps you sit on a nearby rock, crouching in front of you. His eyes flicker to your knee, concern creasing his brows as he inspects the wound. “This is bad.” he murmurs, his tone low as he gently touches your calf to get a better look at the injury.
You feel the warmth of his fingers on your skin, and despite the pain in your knee, something inside you jolts at the tenderness of his touch. Your heart skips a beat, and you have to force yourself to look away.
His fingers are still holding your leg, and the proximity of his body makes everything seem so much more intense than it should be. The sensation of his hand on your calf feels too intimate, too personal, and it makes your pulse race in a way that leaves you breathless.
You shift uncomfortably, trying to pull your leg back a little, though it’s hard to concentrate with him so close. “I’m fine.” you try to brush him off, your voice almost shaky as you speak. “It’s just a scratch.”
He doesn’t seem convinced. His eyes remain fixed on the cut, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs and looks up at you. “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice soft but filled with a quiet seriousness. “Because that looks pretty nasty to me.”
You shift again, trying to ignore the way his hand feels on your skin. “I said I’m fine.” you insist, though your voice lacks the usual conviction. The warmth of his hand on your leg is making it hard to focus on anything else.
Jungkook watches you for a moment, as if assessing whether to argue or just let it go. Finally, he pulls his hand away, and you breathe a little easier, though the air between you still feels weird.
Jungkook stands up straight, his gaze fixed on you for a moment longer than necessary. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and a tension that neither of you seem to know how to break. He looks down at your knee again, his eyes softening with concern, but he doesn’t say anything.
He somehow hates seeing you hurt, and something about it bothers him more than he’d like to admit. But he doesn’t know how to express that without sounding too… weird. So, he stays silent, unsure of how to bridge the gap between his thoughts and actions.
You shift uncomfortably, feeling his eyes on you. Your own gaze flickers between him and the ground, avoiding his stare, unsure of what to say next. You both seem so caught in this strange limbo that the sudden sound of footsteps snapping you both out of your trance is almost a relief.
You both turn at the same time, just in time to see Ryunjin and Suho dart past you, laughing and shouting with reckless energy. "Later, losers!" they yell, their voices teasing as they zoom past, not even sparing a glance at you or Jungkook.
Before either of you can react, they’re already a good distance ahead, their teasing echoes fading into the distance. The moment feels absurd, and yet somehow, it breaks the tension that had been hanging between you and Jungkook. You both stay there for a second, staring after the rapidly disappearing pair, trying to process what just happened.
Jungkook lets out a dry laugh, breaking the quiet. “Well, that was... something.” he says. You can't help but chuckle too, the absurdity of it all making you shake your head. "Yeah, something." you reply, your voice light despite the situation.
Jungkook glances at you, a small, almost self-conscious grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "Guess we better catch up, huh? Wouldn’t want to lose to them."
Without missing a beat, you push yourself to your feet, ignoring the burning sensation in your knee as if it’s nothing. The adrenaline of the competition quickly wipes away any lingering pain. You’re determined now, not just to make it to the top, but to beat Ryunjin and Suho.
You and Jungkook exchange a brief look, and without saying another word, you both grab each other’s hands and break into a run. The path ahead is rocky, but you’re not paying attention to anything other than the prize... victory. The cold mountain air fills your lungs as your feet pound against the uneven ground, each step propelling you forward.
Jungkook keeps his pace beside you, the sound of his breath in sync with yours as you both push yourselves harder. He offers a teasing grin now and then, his usual cocky demeanor back in full force, but you know he’s just as focused as you are on overtaking the pair ahead.
The climb becomes more intense, the sharp incline testing your endurance, but your legs keep moving. You’re so close to the top now, your eyes on Suho and Ryunjin, who are just a few feet ahead. Your heart races, not just from the physical exertion, but from the competitive energy that’s coursing between you and Jungkook.
For a split second, you almost think you’re going to overtake them. You push yourself harder, your hand gripping Jungkook’s tighter, your determination burning stronger than ever. But just as you reach the final stretch, you see Suho and Ryunjin cross the summit.
“No way !!” you groan, stopping just short of the top. Jungkook slows down next to you, panting, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the victorious pair. “They beat us just by a few seconds.” he mutters, his voice tinged with frustration. But as he turns to look at you, the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Close, though. We almost had them.” he says.
You stand there for a moment, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, and then glance at him. “Yeah, well. Almost doesn’t count, does it?” you tease, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.
Jungkook’s lips twitch upward, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something you can’t quite place. “Guess not.” he replies, but then his gaze softens, just a touch. “But we’ll definitely get them next time.”
The way he says next time... with such ease, almost like a promise, sends a strange feeling through you. It doesn’t sound like just another competition or a simple throwaway line. No, it’s more like a subtle invitation, an unspoken acknowledgment that this could be something to look forward to.
It’s not just the words themselves, but the way he says it, like there will be another chance for the two of you, paired together again, side by side. Like it’s not a one time thing, but the beginning of something that feels more… natural.
You swallow the sudden flutter in your chest, trying to focus on something else... something to push away the warmth spreading in your cheeks. It’s just a hike, just a little competition, you tell yourself, but the thought lingers.
Maybe it’s the rush of the moment, the adrenaline, or maybe it’s something about the way Jungkook looks at you now. Whatever it is, you can’t quite shake the feeling that next time won’t just be about winning.
“Yeah, next time.” you echo, your voice softer now, as if you’re both saying more than just the words.
//
Hoseok lounges casually on your bed, his head propped up on one arm as he watches you through the mirror as you do your skin care. "Guess you had fun on that hike, huh?" he says, a teasing glint in his eyes as he observes your focused movements.
You roll your eyes, not bothering to respond immediately. The sheet mask on your face makes it difficult to show any expression, but you can't hide the subtle irritation bubbling under the surface. Hoseok, ever the observant one, takes note of your silence and grins to himself, enjoying your discomfort in a way only he could.
“But actually though, how long are you two planning on keeping up this whole fake relationship thing?” he asks, with a casual tilt of his head. His voice is playful, but there's an undertone of genuine curiosity, as if he's waiting for some kind of confession.
You pause, your fingers freezing on the edges of the mask as his words sink in. The question lingers in the air, heavier than it first appeared. You let out a long, exasperated sigh, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. "I honestly don't know." you admit, the frustration evident in your tone. "This whole thing... it’s just such a ridiculous situation to be in. I didn’t even sign up for this, Hobi."
Your shoulders slump slightly as you drop your gaze, feeling the weight of the words you’ve just said. There’s no denying the absurdity of the situation, but even more unsettling is how easily you’ve been feeling ever since that hike got over.
"Honestly..." Hoseok starts, his voice tapering off, a hint of hesitance in his tone. "I just think... he might like you." he says. You snap your head towards him so fast that he bursts into laughter, pointing at your face. "Oh my god, the look! And with that sheet mask? Iconic." He doubles over, clutching his stomach.
"Please." You wave him off, narrowing your eyes even as you feel your cheeks heat beneath the mask. "That can’t be true." you deny, shaking your head, though his words settle in your chest like a pebble dropped into water, rippling outwards.
Hoseok leans forward, his laughter fading into a soft, knowing smile. “Think about it, Y/N.” He swings his legs off the bed and sits up straighter, his expression suddenly more serious. "Why would he randomly step in to ‘save’ you from Minhyuk and Mrs. Lee when none of it has anything to do with him? What’s he getting out of this whole... fake relationship?"
You open your mouth to argue but nothing comes out. His words sit heavy in the room, pressing against thoughts you’ve tried to avoid all day. Hoseok watches you intently, sensing your hesitation but giving you the space to think.
“I mean, according to me...” he continues, his voice steady but gentle. “The only thing he’s gaining... is your company. The opportunity to be around you, to talk to you, to..." He hesitates for a beat, then finishes with a meaningful look. "To get closer to you."
His words hang in the air, a truth you’re not sure you’re ready to face. Your fingers hover over your mask as you stare back at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and the slow, creeping realization that maybe... just maybe, he’s right.
//
Jungkook slips out of the shower, the warmth of the water still clinging to his skin as he slides into a pair of comfortable pajamas. The exhaustion of the long day settles in, and he collapses onto the bed with a soft sigh.
The cabin feels quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning, and as he stares up at the ceiling, his eyes blink slowly, each blink heavier than the last.
His thoughts begin to wander, as they often do, drifting towards you. He isn’t sure why, but lately, you seem to occupy a bigger space in his mind than he’d like to admit. He wonders what exactly he’s gotten himself into. The whole fake relationship thing, the way it all started... none of it makes sense to him.
But then he remembers the moment it all fell into place. The ridiculousness of it. The heat rising in him when he saw Minhyuk talking to you that way, too comfortable in his space, too persistent with his flirtations.
He didn’t plan to say anything in front of everyone, but something about the whole interaction made him snap. He blurted out the claim about you two dating, and even now, he’s not sure where it came from. But the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes it probably wasn’t just about Minhyuk.
He thinks about the hike today. The way you worked together, the coordination, the unspoken understanding between you both as you made your way up the mountain. The way his stomach churned at the sight of you hurt. The way your hands brushed, then clasped. How your palm felt against his, soft and warm, so natural.
He tries to shake the memory, but it lingers, like the lingering heat of the sun on his skin after a long day. He had to act like it didn’t faze him, like the moment didn’t make his heart race a little faster, but in reality, it was the opposite. His whole body had reacted to the touch, to the proximity.
He lets out a soft groan and rolls over, burying his face in the pillow, willing the thoughts to go away. It’s just a fake relationship, right? So why does it feel like there’s so much more to it than that?
//
The second day of the retreat arrives with a buzz of excitement, and as everyone gathers in the main hall, Mr. Cho announces the day's event which is supposed to be a Photo Scavenger Hunt. It's another pair activity, and you know exactly who your partner will be. Refusing to team up with your fake boyfriend, Jungkook, would raise too many suspicions and be undeniably awkward.
Pairs are handed a checklist of photo prompts, each designed to challenge creativity and, more importantly, sell the illusion of a couple deeply in love. Age, gender, or real dynamics don’t matter, the goal is clear... convince the world you’re head over heels.
Jungkook snatches the prompt list before you can, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement.
“This is going to be so fun.” he declares, scanning the list. You fold your arms, a skeptical frown settling on your face. “I hate taking pictures.” you admit. “And we have to look like a couple deeply in love? How the hell are we supposed to pull that off?”
He raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t be a baby about it. Let’s show these amateurs what a real couple looks like.” The irony of his statement doesn’t escape you. Pretending to be a real couple while knowing everything between your current dynamic is fake feels like some cosmic joke. It tugs at your heart in a way you don’t want to analyze.
Instead, you shift your focus to the task at hand as Jungkook reads the first prompt aloud. “Take a photo of something adventurous.” he announces, his excitement palpable.
The prompt leads you both to the resort’s outdoor obstacle course, where a rope bridge sways precariously over a shallow creek. “This looks adventurous enough.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the bridge. You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re joking, right? There's no way... I’m setting foot on that thing.” you say shaking your head.
He steps onto the first plank, the bridge creaking under his weight. Turning to you, he extends a hand, his confidence unwavering. “Just trust me.” he grins. You hesitate, glancing at his outstretched hand. Something about the steady way he looks at you makes your heart skip. Against your better judgment, you take his hand and step onto the bridge.
The journey across is a chaotic mix of laughter and shrieks as the bridge sways with every movement. You’re freaking the hell out, but somehow, Jungkook’s firm grip on your hand keeps you grounded. His teasing comments, however, do nothing to help calm your nerves.
Suddenly, the bridge sways a little too much, and you yelp in panic, instinctively inching closer to him and wrapping your arms around his torso, holding on for dear life. You close your eyes, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
“Relax!!!” Jungkook laughs, his voice laced with amusement, finding your current state of distress incredibly adorable. “You’re holding onto me like I’m the bridge.”
You bury your face in his chest, the heat of his body overwhelming, and you feel your heart racing in your chest. His laugh sends a jolt through you, but you manage to focus on the safety of his embrace. “Because I don’t trust this death trap!” you snap back, clinging tighter to him. “Don’t you dare let go.”
“Chill, I got you.” he reassures you, but his voice is teasing. “You’re literally holding me. I can’t let go even if I wanted to.” The way his words send a thrill through you catches you off guard, but you can't focus on that now, you're too busy gripping him like a lifeline.
He laughs again, and you feel his arms shift slightly as he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Are you seriously taking a picture now?” you ask incredulously. “Gotta capture the terror on your face.” he says, his grin widening. “Besides, you’re hugging me. That’s pretty romantic if you ask me.”
Before you can reply, he angles his phone to fit both of you in the frame, holding it out with a cocky smile before clicking the picture.
As you still tightly clutch onto him, you peek at the phone as he lowers it. You burst into laughter when you see the picture, a chaotic snapshot of your panicked face, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, eyes wide in shock, but with a hint of a smile hidden in the corners. It’s a mess, but somehow cute. “See?” he says with a playful grin. “Adventurous and adorable.”
You and Jungkook continue breezing through prompt after prompt, and to your surprise, you're both working together seamlessly. The tension from earlier has melted away, replaced by an ease you didn't expect.
His teasing jokes, the way he makes goofy comments behind the camera before snapping a picture... it’s all so endearing. And every time he makes you laugh, you feel those familiar butterflies flutter in your chest, something light and genuine that you hadn't allowed yourself to feel in a long time.
As you pose for yet another shot, your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to disappear. You're not acting for a game anymore, not pretending for a prize. There's a softness between you now, a connection you hadn't realized you craved until you found it. You laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way that’s completely unguarded, and Jungkook can't help but watch you with a smile that matches your own.
He is somehow completely captivated by this version of you, the one without the sarcastic remarks, the biting humor, and the walls you usually keep up. The way you smile for the pictures, the way you compose yourself with such grace, it’s just too cute. The soft glow in your eyes when you’re not worried about anything, not keeping your distance, is something he’s never seen before. It feels so natural, so easy, and he loves it.
With every click of his camera, Jungkook is slowly realizing how much he enjoys seeing you like this... so at ease, so carefree. Even though the situation started as a fake relationship, he's surprised to find that it feels more real than he ever imagined. It feels... perfect.
There's no tension, no need for the sarcastic quips or the emotional distance you usually keep between you. Instead, it's just easy. He can simply be with you, in this moment, without any pretense. And the more he enjoys this connection, the more he wonders how long he can keep pretending that it isn’t something more.
For a brief moment, as he adjusts the camera, he catches you looking at him... a soft, knowing smile playing on your lips. His heart skips a beat, and for the first time in what feels like forever, his confidence falters. He quickly shakes off the feeling, focusing on the next shot, but the lingering warmth in his chest doesn’t go away. It’s there, quietly growing, and for a second, he wonders if maybe you can feel it too.
Soon enough, you reach the last prompt on the list. "Capture your partner with something beautiful." You read it aloud, and Jungkook's eyes light up like he’s found the perfect solution. He grabs your wrist, pulling you along with him, a determined glint in his eyes. “Follow me.” he says.
Without fully understanding where he’s leading you, you let him tug you along, and before long, you find yourself in the resort’s rose garden. You pause, taking in the breathtaking sight before you.
The garden is sprawling and lush, with rows of perfectly manicured bushes, each adorned with an array of vibrant roses in every imaginable colur… pale pinks, deep reds, and the most delicate whites.
The air is thick with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and butterflies flit from one blossom to the next, completing the serene picture. The sun casts a warm golden light, dappling the garden with soft shadows, making the whole place look like something out of a dream.
Jungkook releases your wrist, stepping back to admire you as you take in the surroundings. “How did you even find this place?” you ask, amused, turning to him with raised eyebrows.
He grins, clearly proud of himself. “I was just exploring early this morning.” he admits, brushing a hand through his hair. His gaze softens as he watches you, and it suddenly hits him... for the first time today, he doesn’t need to pose you, doesn’t need to direct you for a shot. Everything here feels perfect just the way it is. You, in this beautiful setting, naturally glowing and lost in the beauty of it all.
Without warning, Jungkook pulls out his phone and takes the first picture. And then another. And another. He’s capturing you... your expression, the way your eyes linger on the flowers, how the soft breeze plays with your hair. Each click feels more like he’s documenting something sacred, something delicate. You’re unaware of it at first, lost in the moment.
But as you turn, you notice him snapping away, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your own eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, you didn’t tell me you started clicking pictures!” you say, an involuntary pout forming on your lips.
Jungkook laughs, the sound deep and genuine. "It’s fine." he says, still grinning. "I got the perfect shots."
Your heart skips, your breath catching at the way he looks at you... like you’re the most beautiful thing in this whole garden, and the way his gaze lingers on you makes your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. There's something so intimate in the way he sees you, something that makes you feel simultaneously vulnerable and cherished.
Now that all the prompts are done, you and Jungkook sit together on the lawn, reviewing the photos on his phone. The sun is beginning to set, casting a soft golden glow over the entire resort, and the air carries a calmness that makes the moment feel almost too perfect.
There’s a small laugh escaping your lips as you scroll past each photo, surprised at how natural you both look. The ones of you and him are the ones that stand out... your smiles feel real, and the carefree joy captured in each shot makes you wonder if, for a fleeting second, the line between pretending and reality might’ve blurred.
As your thumb scrolls past a particularly silly photo of him pulling a goofy face, your eyes linger on the images of yourself. There’s a softness to them... how your eyes shine, how your lips curve into a smile that isn’t forced. You can’t remember the last time you looked so... content.
Your gaze shifts to Jungkook in the rest of the photos, his relaxed posture, his playful grins, and the way he’s effortlessly good-looking in every frame.
But then, Jungkook stops you from scrolling, his finger gently pausing on one of the photos. Your heart stutters when you realize it’s a picture of you that he had taken in the rose garden, the soft wind lifting your hair, your eyes caught on a pink rose, lost in a moment of thought. T
he colors in the picture are so vivid... the soft pink of the rose, the delicate green leaves, and the way the light plays off the petals.
“This one.” Jungkook says quietly, his voice lower than usual. You glance at him, sensing a change in the air, an unspoken weight that hangs between you both. The way he says it almost sounds like a confession, but you’re unsure what it means.
You turn your attention back to the picture, your fingers unconsciously tightening around the phone as your heart begins to race. The photo seems so simple, yet there’s something undeniably intimate about it.
“This one’s my favorite.” he repeats, his eyes not leaving the screen, but you can feel his gaze shift to you, as if waiting for your reaction. The moment seems to stretch, and you swear the temperature of the air is now different.
You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Uh... why?” you ask. Your voice feels small against the sudden heaviness of the moment, the question awkwardly leaving your lips. Your eyes drift to the picture again, but it’s hard to focus with the flutter in your chest.
Jungkook’s gaze softens, a quiet sincerity filling his eyes that makes your stomach do somersaults. “Because it’s... you.”
His words stay in the air, simple yet weighted, like a confession he hadn’t planned on making. And for the briefest moment, everything else falls away… the photos, the game, the fake relationship.
All you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you, the way he said it, as if it meant something deeper than just the photo. It feels like he’s seen something in you, something you haven’t even fully recognized in yourself.
You’re left speechless for a moment, unsure of how to respond. There’s a warmth spreading in your chest, a feeling that seems to fill every space between you and him, and for the first time, the reality of what’s happening between you two feels undeniable.
//
The third day of the retreat dawns with a calm, unstructured agenda, a welcome contrast to the competitive energy of the past two days. With nothing specific planned, you decide to spend your time with Hoseok, exploring the scenic surroundings and indulging in the retreat’s offerings.
By mid-afternoon, the two of you make your way to the spa for a personal massage. The atmosphere is serene, filled with the soft hum of calming music and the faint aroma of lavender.
As the tension melts away under the skilled hands of the masseuse, your thoughts wander, sifting through the events of the past few days. It’s a rare moment of clarity and introspection, and you allow yourself to simply breathe and reflect.
By the time you’re done, it’s nearly evening. You step out of the spa, still basking in the therapeutic aftereffects. Hoseok is waiting for you outside, leaning casually against a pillar, and his face lights up when he sees you stretching your neck with a satisfied sigh.
“That was amazing, wasn’t it?” he asks with a grin, and you hum in agreement, a lazy smile tugging at your lips. “Totally. I feel like a whole new person.” you reply, rolling your shoulders and relishing the weightlessness in your muscles.
Hoseok chuckles before his tone shifts slightly. “Anyway, I’m gonna go hang out with Suho and Mr. Cho for a bit if you don’t mind.” he says, his voice tinged with a trace of guilt. You shake your head immediately, offering him a reassuring smile. “Of course, Hobi. Don’t worry about me. I’ll just chill near the cabins or take a stroll. Go, have fun!”
His expression softens at your easygoing response. “You sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll see you later.” you say, giving him a small wave as he turns to leave. As you watch Hoseok walk away, a peculiar sense of contentment settles within you, something you can’t quite place but feel nonetheless. The day has unfolded in a way you didn’t anticipate, leaving you more at peace than you expected.
You make your way back to your cabin, eager to change into something more comfortable. Slipping into a soft, flowing dress that cascades gently against your legs, you find it strikes the perfect balance between relaxation and elegance.
Stepping out of your cabin, ready to roam aimlessly through the quiet grounds, you suddenly catch sight of Jungkook approaching from the opposite end of the corridor.
"Well, hello there, girlfriend." he teases, his voice laced with playful sarcasm as a mischievous wink follows. With measured confidence, he closes the distance between you, his smirk never faltering, leaving you to wonder if there's more behind his words than the usual banter.
You feel an involuntary tug at the corners of your mouth, but you quickly mask it by rolling your eyes. "Jeon." you greet him flatly as you close the door behind you. “You look lonely.” Jungkook teases, his tone soft.
You open your mouth to retort, but he beats you to it. “Wanna go for a walk?” His words come out almost too casually, but there’s a spark in his eyes, an invitation you can’t quite ignore.
As you glance around at your coworkers scattered about near by, you realize that declining might raise more suspicion than agreeing. It’s a harmless walk, nothing more, nothing less. And, perhaps you tell yourself, it could make the whole fake relationship thing a little more believable.
But a part of you thinks all these reasonings are just yet another reason to cover up what you're actually feeling. You hesitate for only a moment, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. “Sure.” you answer.
The surprise in Jungkook’s eyes is fleeting, but it’s there... his brows lifting slightly at your unexpected compliance. He quickly masks it with a grin, but there’s something unspoken between you now, a shift in the air that neither of you acknowledges aloud. Without another word, he gestures for you to follow, and you do, your steps in sync as you head out into the cool evening.
As you walk side by side, the air between you feels strangely light, almost serene. Jungkook exhales softly, his voice breaking the silence as if testing the waters. "So, how was your day?" he asks, his tone gentle but curious.
"Good." you respond with a simple, soft smile, but you find yourself wanting to offer more, to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I got a massage at the spa. It was incredible." you add, your smile deepening as the memory lingers. The soothing sensation still radiates from your body, and the thought of it gives you a sense of peace.
Jungkook nods, taking in your words with quiet interest. His gaze briefly shifts to you, and something flickers in his eyes. The evening sun bathes your face in a warm, golden light, the soft rays catching in your hair, making it shimmer ever so slightly in the breeze.
For a second, Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat, his thoughts scattered as a sudden, fleeting realization tugs at him. Have you always been this beautiful? But he quickly suppresses it, trying to act unaffected.
"I played badminton with a few of the guys." he says instead, his voice now carrying a touch of nonchalance, as if dismissing the fleeting moment. He averts his gaze, not quite able to look you in the eye for too long, especially when you're looking so breathtaking.
You hum softly, your attention still lingering on his words, though a small part of your mind is distracted by the strange tension that's begun to build. It’s a new, unfamiliar feeling... this conversation with him, so unexpectedly civil, so effortlessly simple, without the usual sharp edges that have always defined your interactions. It feels almost too easy.
As you walk beside him, your knuckles brush against his ever so lightly, a momentary touch that sends a ripple of electricity up your arm. You pause, your thoughts suddenly a jumble. Should I pull my hand away? you wonder. Should I cross my arms, keep a distance?
But before you can decide, Jungkook's hand finds yours. His fingers slip between yours with an ease that catches you off guard, as though it’s something he’s done a hundred times before.
For a split second, everything around you blurs, your heart pounding loudly in your chest as you freeze. The warmth of his touch spreads through you like wildfire, an overwhelming wave of sensations that makes your pulse quicken.
Somehow, this is a million times more different compared to yesterday or the day before. You glance at him, your expression caught somewhere between confusion and something else you can't quite place.
But before you can even open your mouth to question him, Jungkook glances down at your joined hands, his voice a hushed murmur. "Mr. Park and Minhyuk are looking." he says, his words almost inaudible in the quiet evening, yet laden with a sudden urgency.
Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of the situation settling over you with sudden clarity. Of course, you think bitterly. It was all part of the act, a simple move to maintain the facade, to avoid suspicion. The thought feels like a cold rush, and you can’t quite understand why it makes your heart sink just a little.
As your mind swirls, Hoseok’s words from the day before yesterday echo in your head, the ones that made you question the dynamics of this entire charade.
Why is Jungkook even doing this? What is he even getting out of it? you wonder. His actions feel so carefully measured, so deliberate, but now, standing beside him, you can’t help but feel like there’s more to it than just playing along for appearances.
And then, as your thoughts tumble over each other, another question surfaces... one you can’t shake. Why is he worried about being caught? You glance at Jungkook, his face turned slightly away, eyes still focused on the path ahead, his hand still holding yours. He hasn’t loosened his grip, but there’s a tension in the way he holds on, as though it’s more than just a practical gesture.
The thought lingers, unanswered, hanging between you like a whispered secret. The more you try to push it away, the more the question claws at you, refusing to be ignored.
As much as you try to convince yourself that this is just a show, a performance, a simple arrangement between two people caught in an absurd situation, a part of you can’t help but wonder if there’s more at play here... something deeper, more complicated, something neither of you are ready to face.
//
The next day arrives quickly, the sun shining brightly and casting a warm, golden glow over the retreat grounds. You find yourself standing in the doorway of the large kitchen, anticipation bubbling in your chest.
As you wait for the day’s activity to begin, your thoughts drift to Jungkook, and a soft smile graces your lips. The past three days with him have been unexpectedly delightful and you feel like your heart has been beating differently… and the desire to see him, to be near him is gradually increasing minute by minute.
Today, the schedule has a bake-off on the list, a lighthearted yet competitive event. But this time, to your surprise, there's a slight twist... you don’t get to choose your partner.
Instead, Mr. Cho will be picking out the names from a hat, ensuring that everyone interacts with someone new instead of just sticking with familiar faces. Jungkook already gets paired up with Hoseok and a part of you falters, sad that he won’t be your partner for this activity.
The anticipation in the room builds as Mr. Cho starts calling out the names. Your heart skips a beat when you hear your name being paired with none other than Min Yoongi.
Min Yoongi was a fellow coworker from another team and a part of you is thankful it’s him and not some random stranger. You’ve worked with him a few times before, and while you’ve always admired his quiet charm, today you’re both in for an unexpected challenge. Yoongi has always been sweet and approachable, his gummy smile and laid-back nature endearing to everyone around him.
As you walk over to your station, Yoongi stands beside you, looking a little uncertain. He glances at the array of ingredients and sighs. “I’ve never baked before.” he admits, his tone a mix of amusement and apprehension.
You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and carefree. “Same here.” you say with a playful grin, turning to face him. “Guess we’re both in for an adventure today.” The words come easily, and something about the situation feels oddly comforting.
Meanwhile, a few counters away, Jungkook stands next to Hoseok. If he wasn’t already irritated by the fact that he was being paired with someone he absolutely cannot stand, considering how Hoseok being your close friend has always annoyed him, the sight of you working so easily with someone else... some other man... has his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
He clenches his jaw, his eyes narrowing as you and Yoongi chat easily, the two of you laughing and navigating your baking station with light-hearted banter. Every glance in your direction feels like a reminder that things are not as simple as they should be.
Yoongi’s soft laugh cuts through his thoughts, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a pang of something he refuses to acknowledge. It’s like the universe is conspiring against him today, forcing him to witness you grow closer to someone else, and it makes him feel something he can’t quite place.
The tension in his chest tightens, but he pushes it down, trying to focus on his own station. He can’t let himself get distracted by this, even though the thought of you mingling with another man gnaws at him, just under the surface.
Ignoring the crushing weight in his chest, Jungkook forces himself to focus on the task at hand, settling into a rhythm with Hoseok. Surprisingly, Hoseok proves to be a cooperative partner, and they manage to work efficiently, though their conversations are sparse and purely functional.
Around them, the kitchen hums with energy... clattering bowls, bursts of laughter, and the sound of Mr. Cho’s voice as he strolls by to observe everyone’s progress.
Jungkook tries to keep his head down, but his resolve falters as his gaze drifts, almost involuntarily, to your station. You’re with Yoongi, and the sight is just undeniably painful. The two of you are laughing, the kind of laughter that feels unrestrained and easy, and Jungkook feels something bitter rise in his chest.
His eyes narrow as Yoongi leans closer to you, smirking as he says something that makes you giggle. Then Yoongi suddenly blows a puff of flour in your direction, his grin widening when you squeal and lift your hands in a futile attempt to block it. “Yoongi!” you exclaim, laughing as you swipe the powder off your cheeks.
“You’re welcome.” Yoongi replies smoothly, dusting off his hands with a wink.
Jungkook glares, his grip on the mixing bowl tightening. Look at this grown-ass man making a mess, he thinks bitterly. But he knows it’s not about the flour or the mess, it’s about the easy camaraderie between the two of you, the playful way Yoongi leans into your space as you try to whisk the cream.
“You know...” Yoongi drawls, leaning casually on the counter as you measure the sugar. “You’re pretty good at this. Maybe we should open a bakery together. I’ll be the charming face of the business, and you can do all the work.”
You snort, nudging him with your elbow. Yoongi has always been like this, with all the occasional comments and jokes. “Oh, so I do the heavy lifting while you stand around and smile? Sounds like a solid partnership.” you playfully roll your eyes.
“Exactly.” he replies with a mock-serious nod. Then his tone shifts, dipping into something playfully flirtatious. “Or, better yet, we could skip the bakery and just bake together... at my place.”
Your eyes widen slightly before you burst into laughter, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.” you say. “I’m practical.” Yoongi retorts with a shrug. “Besides, if you ever get tired of Jungkook, you know where to find me.” he jokes and even you know that he doesn't really mean that because you're somewhat used to his harmless, meaningless flirting.
As far as you've observed, he's like this with everyone, but the man standing a few counters behind you doesn't know that and his jaw tightens as he overhears the conversation.
He glares at Yoongi, his eyes narrowing into slits as his chest tightens uncomfortably. If she ever gets tired of me? Please. The laughter at your station contrasts sharply with the strained silence at his own, and Jungkook struggles to quell the sour taste in his mouth. He stirs the batter with unnecessary vigor, trying to block out the image of you with someone else.
“Are you trying to murder the batter?” Hoseok’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Jungkook blinks and realizes he’s been whisking too hard, the mixture splattered slightly around the edges. “Just... making sure it’s mixed properly.” he mutters, brushing off Hoseok’s raised brow.
Hoseok shakes his head, muttering something about misplaced aggression, but Jungkook doesn’t hear it. His eyes are already back on you, unable to look away even as it irritates him to no end.
“Oh, please.” you reply, rolling your eyes but grinning. “As if I’d ever pick you. You’d probably just make me do all the work anyway.” you say, passing him the bowl so that he can make sure the batter's smoothly mixed.
“Not true.” Yoongi says, feigning offense. “I’d let you taste-test everything too. See? Equal partnership.” he smiles. Your laughter rings out again, light and carefree, and Jungkook feels like he’s losing his mind. It’s not just the banter, or the way Yoongi’s grin stretches wide... it’s the way you respond to him, the way you look genuinely happy.
//
Eventually, the bake-off wraps up, and to everyone’s surprise, Mr. Park and another coworker, Wonho, win the contest. Their cake is a masterpiece, elegantly designed with intricate icing patterns that scream perfection.
You figure it’s mostly Wonho’s expertise in the decorative details, given his reputation for being particular about aesthetics. The room erupts into cheers and applause as they pose proudly with their winning cake.
You smile to yourself, genuinely happy for them, but the mess on your hands and clothes pulls your focus. Flour is smeared across your arms and streaked on your dress, and you can feel the sticky remnants of batter clinging to your fingers. Without wasting another moment, you slip out of the bustling kitchen, eager to return to your cabin for a much-needed cleanup.
As you head down the hall, your eyes catch sight of Jungkook leaning casually against the wall. His head is tilted down, eyes glued to his phone, but the sharp furrow of his brows and the tight line of his jaw betray his mood. He looks annoyed, maybe even angry.
For a moment, you hesitate. Should you approach him? Was his frustration because of the bake-off? Maybe he’s upset about not winning. You take a deep breath, deciding there’s no harm in greeting him. “Hey.” you say softly as you come to a stop a few feet away from him.
Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards you for the briefest second before returning to his screen. He doesn’t say anything, his fingers continuing to scroll, his expression unreadable but cold. The blatant dismissal catches you off guard. You clear your throat, attempting to brush off the sting of his indifference. “Jungkook?” you say again, your voice firmer this time.
Still, nothing.
The silence stretches, and unease begins to creep in. These past three days of the retreat, you guys had been civil, even managing moments of genuine connection. It had felt like a breakthrough, a tentative truce that hinted at something lighter, something easier. And yet, here he was, shutting you out without reason.
You shift on your feet, your confidence faltering slightly as you wonder if you’ve done something to upset him. “What’s up with you?” you ask, trying to keep your tone neutral, though the undercurrent of irritation is hard to hide.
This time, Jungkook finally looks up. His dark eyes meet yours, and for a fleeting moment, there’s something softer in them... something almost vulnerable. But just as quickly, that familiar wall slams back into place. “Nothing.” he mutters, shoving his phone into his pocket.
“Nothing?” you echo, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve been standing here, with your face looking like you just lost a million dollars, but sure, ‘nothing.’”
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Why don’t you just go back to Yoongi, Y/N? Stop bothering me.” he snaps. Your head tilts in surprise, amusement flickering briefly in your expression at the mention of Yoongi’s name. “Excuse me?” you ask, your brows furrowing in confusion.
“Yeah, go back to him. Looks like you were having quite the time back in there.” Jungkook scoffs, looking away as his jaw tightens. Your amusement quickly shifts to irritation as you process his words. “Why do you even care?” you challenge, your tone sharp now.
“I don’t care.” he fires back almost immediately, his voice a little too quick, a little too defensive. “Oh really?” you ask, stepping closer as you narrow your eyes at him. “I just think it’s funny." he continues, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “How you’re flirting with some other guy when I’m right here.”
The moment the words leave his mouth, Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening slightly as if realizing what he’s just said. He quickly scrambles to cover it up, clearing his throat and speaking again, this time with forced nonchalance. “I mean, am I not your fake boyfriend? What are people going to think if they see you flirting with someone else?”
You blink at him, your irritation momentarily replaced by astonishment at the bizarre leap in logic. “Are you serious right now?” you ask, a dry laugh escaping you. “You’re worried about what people are going to think? Or are you just... I don't know?? Jealous, Jungkook?”
“I’m not jealous.” he snaps, his voice rising slightly, the defensiveness sharp in the air. “Why would I be jealous?”
“Good question.” you fire back, your tone heavy with sarcasm. “Why should you be jealous? Last time I checked, you’re not my real boyfriend.” Your words come out sharper than you intend, slicing through the tension between you.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens as he glares at you, his lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you watch as something flickers in his eyes, something silent, something that feels like hurt.
Even though you know what you said is the truth, there’s a pang of guilt in your chest. His expression softens just enough to make you second-guess yourself, and for a second, you wonder if maybe you shouldn't have said what you said.
He exhales slowly, the sound heavy with frustration and something else you can’t quite place. “Right.” he finally says, his voice quieter now, more measured. His arms cross over his chest, but the posture doesn’t feel defensive, it feels like he’s holding himself together. “I’m not your real boyfriend.”
The way he echoes your words, so pointedly yet almost resigned, sends a ripple of unease through you. There’s something about the way he looks at you now, something that feels raw and unguarded, and it makes your stomach twist.
For a moment, the silence stretches between you, heavy with everything neither of you is saying. You want to say something... anything, to break the tension, to take back the sting of your words. But nothing comes.
Instead, Jungkook steps back, his gaze lingering on you for just a second longer before he turns away. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/n.” he says, his tone light but his words weighted with something deeper. And just like that, he’s gone, leaving you standing there with the echo of your own voice ringing in your ears and a sinking feeling in your chest.
//
"I just don’t get it.” you groan, throwing your head back against the pillow in Hoseok's cabin, the ceiling above blurring as your thoughts churn. “Why is this happening? Why is he like this?” you question, recalling the earlier interaction between you and Jungkook.
Hoseok, sitting cross-legged on the floor, is surrounded by the chaos of his half-packed suitcase as he tries to find a nice outfit for tomorrow. He folds a T-shirt with an exaggerated patience, glancing up at you with an amused smile. “Come on, Y/N. It’s obvious.” he breathes out.
“What’s obvious?” you ask, your tone laced with frustration. Hoseok sighs dramatically, as if your cluelessness is physically exhausting for him. “He’s jealous.”
You prop yourself up on your elbows, staring at him with furrowed brows. Even you had thought of this particular scenario, but you still question, acting clueless. “Jealous? Of what?”
Hoseok leans back on his hands, a grin tugging at his lips. “Of Yoongi, obviously. You should’ve seen the way he was glaring at the two of you during the bake-off. He was gripping the mixing bowl like it was the only thing keeping him attached to reality. I was literally expecting him to snap it in half.” he jokes.
A disbelieving laugh escapes you, but the weight of Hoseok’s words lingers. “That’s actually ridiculous. Why would he be jealous? We’re not even… I mean…” You trail off, the words “fake dating” sitting heavy in your throat.
“You tell me.” Hoseok says, shrugging as he picks up another shirt. “But it’s pretty clear to anyone with eyes that he was seconds away from combusting every time Yoongi even smiled at you.” he says.
You flop back against the pillow, covering your face with your hands. “This is so infuriating.” you grumble, your voice muffled. “Why does it even matter? It’s not like this whole fake boyfriend thing is real. It’s all just some stupid charade. And now… this... this unnecessary drama. It’s just messing with my mind.” you complain.
Hoseok is quiet for a moment, letting your words hang in the air before he speaks again. His tone is softer now. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”
You lower your hands slowly, turning your head to look at him. “What is it?” you question. He hesitates, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do you... feel something for him?” he asks. The question hits you like a jolt, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. Do you?
Your mind races, retracing the tangled threads of your feelings for Jungkook. The way your heart skips when he looks at you just a little too long, the way his rare moments of softness make your chest tighten.
The truth, you realize, is that these feelings aren’t entirely new. They’ve always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Even back at the office, behind all the snarky remarks and the constant bickering, you wanted his attention. You wanted to know him, to get closer to him.
But somehow, the easiest way to stay on his radar had been to antagonize him, to get under his skin. It was safer than admitting how you really felt.
Showing vulnerability to Jungkook felt like handing him a loaded weapon, giving him the upper hand, and that was something your pride wouldn’t allow. The realization settles over you, heavy and unavoidable. You’ve always felt something for him, haven’t you?
Finally, you take a deep breath, the words feeling heavy as they leave your lips. “I… I don’t know.” you mutter. Hoseok watches you closely, his expression softening. “Well...” he says, a small, knowing smile on his lips. “Maybe it’s time to figure it out. Because, Y/n, from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear that he definitely feels something for you.”
His words settle over you like a weight you’re not ready to carry. You sit up abruptly, the tension in your chest too much to ignore. “I’m going for a walk.” you suddenly announce, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and heading towards the door of Hoseok’s cabin. “I need to clear my mind.”
Hoseok watches you with a soft smile, his hands pausing mid-fold. “Take your time.” he says gently, his tone laced with understanding.
You glance back at him briefly, catching the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but you’re too preoccupied to comment on it. There’s too much swirling in your head... Jungkook’s piercing stare, his infuriating words, the way these past few days have been so... good with him, the knot of emotions you’ve been trying to untangle since this whole fake dating arrangement began.
Hoseok chuckles softly as you open the door, his voice light but warm. “Don’t think too hard, Y/N. Sometimes the answer is way simpler than you think.” you hear him say as you take a moment to let his words sink in before closing the door.
//
Jungkook paces across his cabin, each step mirroring the storm brewing in his chest. The memory of your heated exchange claws at him, replaying over and over like a broken record. He feels suffocated by his own frustration, a tightness in his chest that refuses to let go. Why had he let himself snap at you like that? Why couldn’t he control himself when it mattered the most?
Seeing you with Yoongi had been a punch to the gut. He hated the way it made him feel so small, so envious, so... desperate. He hated that it wasn’t him making you laugh, teasing you until you blushed, earning that bright, genuine smile that lit up your face. Instead, he was stuck in his own head, too consumed by his emotions to step up and be the person he wanted to be for you.
His jaw clenches as the questions pile up, each one heavier than the last. Why wasn’t he the one by your side, making you happy? Why was Yoongi so easily able to draw you in when Jungkook himself always seemed to stumble and just make you mad?
His stomach churns with the realization that his feelings for you are far more complicated than he’s willing to admit. The guilt gnaws at him, sharp and unrelenting. He knows he crossed a line.
You’d approached him, likely with the intention of being nice and talking to him since he looked annoyed, and instead of meeting you halfway, he’d lashed out, letting his jealousy dictate his words. Bringing up Yoongi had been petty and uncalled for, and he hates himself for it.
Jungkook exhales shakily, dragging a hand through his hair. He feels the weight of the unease coursing through his veins, and it’s unbearable. He can’t sit here and let things fester. Not when he’s spent the past few days realizing how much your dynamic is shifting... how much he’s shifting.
Without another thought, he grabs his jacket, slipping it on as he strides to the door. The crisp night air hits his face as he steps outside, but it does little to cool the turmoil within him. He doesn’t know what exactly he’ll say to you when he finds you, but he knows he has to try.
Because the idea of letting things revert back to what you guys once were feels unbearable. He doesn’t want to go back to being the guy who only got your attention through arguments and war of words. He doesn’t want to ruin whatever this fragile, tentative thing between you is turning into.
Jungkook shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, determination fueling his every step. He knows he owes you an apology and more than that, he owes you honesty. He just hopes he hasn’t already pushed you too far away.
As he crosses the quiet, dew-kissed lawn, his steps falter when he suddenly spots you. There you are, sitting alone on a weathered bench, your figure outlined against the soft glow of the lamplight. The cool night air wraps around you as you gaze out into the vast expanse of the dark sky, your eyes tracing the faint silhouettes of the mountains in the distance.
He stops in his tracks, his chest tightening at the sight of you. Even from a distance, he notices the way your teeth gently tug at your lower lip, a habit he’s come to recognize when you’re lost in thought. There’s a stillness about you, a kind of quiet vulnerability that makes something in him ache.
Jungkook exhales slowly, preparing himself. His feet carry him forward before his mind can overthink it. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his nerves tangling tighter with each step. When he’s close enough to be heard but not startle you, he clears his throat softly. "Hey." he says, his voice gentler than he’d expected, almost unsure.
You glance up, your expression briefly startled before your features seem to soften. You don’t say anything immediately, and he hesitates, wondering if you’re going to ask him to leave. But you don’t... you just watch him, waiting for him to speak.
Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, his gaze dropping momentarily before he forces himself to look at you again. His expression is uncharacteristically soft, a vulnerability shining through. "I just... I just wanted to say I'm sorry." he begins, his voice low but steady. "For earlier. I shouldn’t have said what I did. It was out of line."
You don’t respond immediately, your eyes studying his face as the weight of his apology lingers between you. For a moment, all you can hear is the faint hum of crickets and the soft rustle of leaves in the night breeze.
With a quiet sigh, you scoot over slightly on the bench, offering him a silent invitation. Jungkook hesitates for half a second before sitting down beside you, leaving just enough space to feel the tension in the air.
His eyes drift to the mountains, dark silhouettes against the star-speckled sky, mirroring the turmoil in his mind. "I don’t know why I said it." he admits after a pause, frustration evident in his tone. "I guess... I just couldn’t stand seeing you with Yoongi like that. It got to me."
You let his words settle, your stomach twisting uncomfortably. "But it shouldn’t get to you, Jungkook." you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. "We’re... we’re not together. I don’t want things to get complicated between us." You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to keep the tremor out of your voice.
Protecting yourself feels like the only option… you can’t risk letting him see how this fake relationship has started to feel real to you. It’s safer to pretend otherwise.
Jungkook doesn’t respond immediately, but you see his hands clench slightly, resting on his knees. Your words cut deeper than you realize. The phrase not together grates on him, leaving an ache in his chest he doesn’t know how to ease.
He wants to tell you how wrong you are, how much he wishes this whole thing was real, but something about the way you said it makes him falter. Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and he’s just fooling himself.
“I know I shouldn’t have pulled you into something like this.” he finally says, his voice softer now, almost resigned. You glance at him, noticing the conflicted expression on his face, but before you can reply, your gaze shifts past him to a figure lurking in the distance.
Mrs. Lee stands a few feet away, partially hidden by the shadows, her head tilted slightly, clearly trying to catch the tail end of your ongoing conversation. Her posture screams suspicion, and your stomach twists in panic. You don’t think, you just act.
“I know this whole fake relatio—” Jungkook starts, but you cut him off abruptly, leaning in and pressing your lips to his.
The kiss isn’t calculated or delicate, it’s instinctual, an impulsive move to shut him up before Mrs. Lee hears something she shouldn’t. Your lips are warm against his, though neither of you move.
Jungkook freezes, his eyes widening as his brain scrambles to catch up with what just happened. His heart hammers so loudly in his chest he’s certain you can hear it. For a second, the world tilts, his thoughts spinning in chaos.
But before he can even process it, you’re already pulling away. Your eyes dart past him, scanning the distance where Mrs. Lee once stood. You exhale softly when you realize she’s no longer there, most likely walking off with her suspicions unsatisfied.
“Fuck… that was... that was close.” you murmur, the words slipping out in a breathless whisper as your gaze finally locks with his. Your tone is almost too calm, too casual, as if the kiss hadn’t just turned his whole world upside down.
Jungkook just stares at you, his expression frozen in stunned disbelief, his lips still parted as if he’s trying to catch the remnants of something fleeting.
“What?” he mutters, the single word heavy with confusion and something raw. You exhale shakily, the weight of the moment crashing down on you as you realize the line you just crossed.
“I’m so sorry.” you begin, your voice faltering under his unwavering stare. “Mrs. Lee… she was eavesdropping. She was going to find out about us if you kept talking.” You explain.
His features shift instantly, the softness in his eyes hardening into something unreadable. It’s like watching a storm gather on the horizon, his emotions swirling, barely contained. You can almost see the exact moment realization hits him, the slight flinch in his jaw, the way his shoulders tense as the revelation bleeds into hurt.
“That’s… that’s why you kissed me?” His voice is low, trembling with disbelief and something sharper, something you can’t quite name. Your stomach twists with guilt, the weight of your actions clawing at you. “I mean… yeah.” you admit reluctantly. “I didn’t know what else to do.”
The darkness in his eyes deepens, his brows knitting together as a bitter laugh escapes him. It’s a sound so uncharacteristic, so hollow, it sends a pang through your chest. “So it wasn’t because you wanted to. It was just to keep the… act alive.”
The accusation in his tone slices through you, leaving a sting you can’t ignore. You reach for words, for anything to soften the blow, but he’s already moving, standing abruptly from the bench. His hand rakes through his hair, the motion restless and frustrated.
“Got it.” he mutters, his voice clipped, barely restrained as he starts striding away. “Jungkook, wait—” you call after him, scrambling to your feet, trying to grab his arm.
He whirls around so suddenly, the force of his movement makes you instinctively step back, the air thickening between you in an instant. His eyes are wild, blazing with frustration, but beneath it, there's a rawness, a vulnerability that cuts through everything else.
"No, Y/n !!" he snaps, his voice so sharp it feels like it could slice the air between you. "One minute you're telling me how you don't want things to get complicated, and the next, you're..." he gestures between you, his hand trembling slightly. "You're kissing me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
“I panicked!” you retort, your voice coming out ragged, barely holding onto control. You feel your heart pounding in your throat. “Mrs. Lee was about to find out, and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have a choice!”
His steps are measured, each one bringing him closer, his presence overwhelming, his energy suffocating. “You always have a choice.” he spits, his voice low but carrying a venom that stings deeper than any physical wound. “Don’t act like you did this for me. You did it because you were too terrified to face the consequences. That’s the truth, isn’t it?”
The accusation hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of his words, and something in you snaps. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady, but the anger bubbling inside threatens to break free. “What do you want me to say, Jungkook?” you bite out, each word coming harder than the last. “That I wanted to kiss you? That I enjoyed it? Would that make you feel better?”
He scoffs, the sound bitter and cold, and it hits deeper than anything he’s said so far. "Don’t twist this around on me." His gaze hardens, his eyes narrowing with intensity. “You can’t just cross a line like that and pretend it means nothing. You don’t get to do that. You can’t just—"
“And what about you?” you fire back, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt, a sharp edge to your words now. “You’re the one who pulled me into this whole fake relationship to begin with… and now you’re mad because I’m going along with it? I’m sorry but this is on you, Jungkook!”
“On me?” His voice rises again, incredulity dripping from every syllable. “You could’ve stopped it at any time. The first night, the first second I lied to everyone… you could’ve told the truth. But you didn’t. You stayed silent. Like I said, you always have a choice.”
His words crash into you like a tidal wave, leaving you momentarily stunned. The anger and guilt mix into a swirling, suffocating knot in your chest. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. All you can feel is the sting of his words, and suddenly, you're fighting back, voice louder than before.
“Oh, please, Jungkook! I would’ve denied it if you hadn’t been constantly talking over me, pushing me to the corner. It was like you didn’t want me to deny it. So what the hell was I supposed to do?” You’re breathing heavily now, every word like a battle, your body trembling with the energy of it.
He stares at you for a moment, his chest heaving with each breath, his face still etched with fury, but there’s something else there now… a flicker of realization in his eyes, a shift that you can’t quite understand.
You speak again, the words coming out in a rushed, frantic burst. “Why did you even say it? What was the poi—"
“I couldn’t fucking stand Minhyuk flirting with you !!” His voice is rough, desperate, like he's been holding this back for far too long. The intensity of his confession strikes you like a thunderclap, and for a moment, you're too stunned to react.
Before you can say anything, he continues, voice raw with frustration. “If that creep wasn’t enough already, Mrs. Lee was going to set you up on another one of her stupid blind dates, and I couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. I couldn’t..."
You can hear the crack in his voice, the raw emotion bubbling over like a dam about to break. It’s like all the months of built-up frustration and unspoken feelings are crashing down on you all at once, and you’re struggling to keep your footing. “It doesn’t make sense, Jungkook.” you start, your words trembling. “Why does it bother you so much—”
“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU, DAMN IT!!” He cuts you off again, but this time, his voice doesn’t crack with anger, it’s louder, firmer, like it’s the last thing he’ll say before everything changes. The words explode from his chest, raw and unguarded, and they hit you like a physical blow. They hang in the air, suspended in time, and the ringing silence that follows is deafening. The weight of what he’s just said presses down on you, suffocating, unrelenting.
Your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you don’t know whether to speak, to run, to stay frozen in place, because the words he’s said are far heavier than anything you ever expected. He looks at you, his chest rising and falling, and after what feels like an eternity, he exhales a long, shuddering breath.
“There…” he murmurs, his voice softer now, but still edged with the intensity of what he’d just confessed. “There… you have it. I like you, Y/N. And just the thought of you with anyone else... it drives me crazy.”
The quietness that follows is unbearable, like everything around you has come to a grinding halt. All you can do is stand there, stunned, the truth of his words echoing in your mind, your heart pounding in your chest. He takes a step back, running a hand down his face as if trying to calm himself. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter.
“I came here to apologize to you tonight…” he begins, his voice trembling with a raw vulnerability that feels like a blade twisting inside your chest. “Because I thought… I thought we were finally moving past all those childish fights and pointless arguments. I thought…” His voice falters, a breath catching in his throat as he exhales shakily. “I thought I was developing something real with you.”
The weight of his words presses into you, splitting you open in ways you didn’t think were possible. You open your mouth to speak, but no sound comes. The guilt, the truth, the mess you’ve made… everything hangs between you like an immovable barrier.
“I thought that throughout this retreat, I got to see so many more sides of you…” he continues, his words punctuated by a bitter laugh. “I thought I was getting closer to you, but I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong… because this is all just… a stupid fucking act to you.” His hand runs through his hair, frustration radiating off him in waves.
There’s a long, agonizing silence, thick and heavy, before he speaks again. His words are quieter, but they slice through the stillness. “You know what…” He suddenly pauses, looking away as if he’s trying to find a shred of clarity in the chaos. “You’re right. Maybe… maybe it was my fault after all. Getting into this stupid arrangement… What the hell was I even thinking?”
A bitter laugh escapes him then, hollow and dry, as he presses his lips together in a thin line. His gaze drifts upward to the dark sky, his eyes glistening with unshed emotion, the weight of everything he’s holding back palpable in the air. “Let’s just... pretend this… never fucking happened.” His words pass through you, sharp and final, and for a moment, your breath catches in your throat.
You stand frozen, watching him turn away, each step he takes away from you feels like an echo in your chest. He walks farther and farther away, his figure slowly shrinking in the distance, and with each step, the world around you grows colder, more suffocating.
//
The next two days pass by in a blur, a haze of confusion and regret that clouds your every thought. Jungkook avoids you like the plague, and it's impossible not to notice the way he keeps his distance in group settings, his eyes carefully avoiding yours whenever they happen to meet.
You can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as if everyone around you can sense something is off, but you're too wrapped up in your own head to care. Let them gossip. Let them wonder. It’s the least of your worries.
All you can think about is him. His words, his voice, the rawness in his confession. It replays over and over in your mind, and no matter how much you try to push it away, it lingers like a wound that won't heal. You're mad at yourself for letting things spiral this far, for letting it all get so out of hand. You should've said something, you tell yourself, but the truth is, you were terrified.
You still remember that night... the way your heart pounded in your chest when he confessed, how badly you wanted to tell him that you felt the same, that the shift hadn't been lost on you either. You wanted to tell him that this whole thing hadn't been a game for you, that your feelings had started to change, that you had started to care. But the look in his eyes, the vexation in his voice, it all stopped you from saying a single word.
In that moment, you froze. His frustration was palpable, and all you could do was stand there, staring at him, caught in the grip of everything he was throwing at you. His anger, his confusion, it filled the space between you like an impenetrable wall. You couldn't even find the courage to fight back, to tell him how much you had started to feel for him too. All you could do was listen to his words, to the weight of what he was saying, and let the silence stretch on longer than you ever intended.
And now here you are, stuck in this limbo, neither moving forward nor back, just existing in this awkward, painful space where every glance, every silence, feels like a reminder of what you couldn't say. You hate that he’s avoiding you, hate that you’re both walking around each other like ghosts in the same room, but you’re equally terrified of confronting it all head-on. What if he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if he regrets what he said?
You want to go to him, to break this silence, to tell him everything you should have said that night. But you're not sure if you can bear the weight of the possibility that he might not want to hear it. So instead, you keep your distance, the quiet ache of unspoken words building inside you, while everything around you continues to move in ways you no longer understand.
You remain in your cabin, the sound of laughter and chatter from outside barely registering in your mind as everyone else gets ready for the very last event of this retreat, the talent show.
The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as the buzz of excitement from your coworkers echoes through your cabin. But you don't care. You have no intention of participating, no desire to join in their festivities. The thought of putting on a smile, of pretending to be fine, feels exhausting. Instead, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself, cocooning yourself in the isolation you've come to crave.
You try to sleep, to let the darkness of the room envelop you and quiet the chaos inside your mind, but sleep feels elusive. Every time you close your eyes, your thoughts race back to him... his sharp words, the way he looked at you when he confessed, how he walked away as though nothing between you had ever mattered. The way he’s avoiding you now, as though you were a stranger he could never quite bring himself to face.
The thought of facing him again, of enduring another evening where he looks at you and then proceeds to ignore your very existence, is unbearable. You can’t take it. The coldness in his gaze, the way he acts like you’re nothing, like you’re invisible... it hurts in a way you hadn’t expected. You thought you could keep your feelings hidden, that you could keep pretending this was all just part of the act, but now, it’s all too real. It’s suffocating, and you’re left with nothing but the emptiness inside.
So you stay in your cabin, away from it all, away from him. All you want is for the world to quiet down, for the pain to stop, for the feeling of being ignored and invisible to disappear. But all you’re left with is the silence and the emptiness, a stark reminder that sometimes, it’s easier to hide than to face what’s right in front of you.
When you’re still trying hard to sleep, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n, I’m coming in.” It’s Hoseok, but you don’t answer anything, remaining rooted to your position. He’s the only one who’s aware of your current situation, so he’s giving you all the space you need. “Hey…” he softly says as the door opens and his head peeks inside. “The talent show is starting in a bit. You sure you don’t want to watch?” he asks. You remain quiet, hoping your silence is able to convey your answer. Hoseok sighs softly. “Well if you change your mind, I’ll be outside okay?” And just like that you hear the door click close, leaving you and your thoughts alone all over again.
The clock’s ticking grows louder as the evening stretches on, the music and cheers from the arena outside only serving to remind you of your isolation. You sigh, the weight of your feelings pressing against you. Maybe staying in isn’t helping. Maybe stepping out will offer you the distraction you desperately need.
With a quiet resolution, you slip on your sweater over your dress, trying to smooth your hair into some semblance of order. Your face feels empty, but you don’t have the energy to care. You step out slowly, your eyes instinctively drawn to the bustling arena in front of you. The crowd, the music, the laughter... it’s all happening so effortlessly around you.
You make your way over, crossing your arms and leaning against a nearby pillar. Suho is performing a magic act on stage, his tricks capturing the crowd's attention and their gasps of wonder. You watch, a soft smile forming despite yourself, the momentary distraction soothing some of the tension in your chest. It’s nice, you think, to see others enjoying themselves, even if you feel a world away from it all.
As Suho finishes his act, you feel the lightness of the atmosphere begin to seep in, and for a moment, you start to forget about everything weighing on your mind. But then, Mr. Park���s voice rings out across the arena, breaking your moment of peace.
“And next... we have Jeon Jungkook, and he’s going to sing a song for us!!”
A wave of surprise floods through you, but you can’t tear your eyes away as Jungkook steps onto the stage and the crowd instantly cheers for him. He’s wearing an oversized sweater and jeans, looking effortlessly casual but somehow more captivating than ever. His smile is small but sincere as he faces the crowd, and the lights around the stage shift, casting a soft, dreamy glow on him.
Your heart skips a beat as you watch him, your chest tightening with something you can’t quite place. You know you shouldn’t feel this way, but the pull of his presence is undeniable. He doesn’t seem to notice you, too focused on the audience, but then the background music begins to play.
And you instantly recognize the song.
Your heart stumbles in your chest as the words hit you, sharp and tender all at once. You’ve heard this song before, countless times, but now… now it’s different. Every note seems to pull at something inside you, something you were fighting to keep buried. His voice is smooth, soft like honey, but there’s a rawness in it now, an emotion that you can’t ignore.
He closes his eyes as he sings, lost in the music, and for a moment, it’s as though the world around you has melted away. All that remains is him, his voice, and the lyrics that seem to cut right through you.
I gave you everything, baby, everything I had to give Girl, why would you push me away? Yeah Lost in confusion, like an illusion You know I'm used to making your day
The familiar words feel like they’ve been written just for this moment, for you. His voice carries the weight of the past, the bitter present between you two. And somehow, as he sings, it feels like he’s telling a story… the story of you both, wrapped in the lines of this song.
But that is the past now, we didn't last now I guess that this is meant to be Tell me, was it worth it? We were so perfect But, baby, I just want you to see
The words linger in the air, heavy with emotion, and your heart cracks with every line. The memories flash in your mind… every moment you shared, every smile, every laugh. But there’s a bitter sweetness in it too, a reminder of what was lost.
There's nothing like us There's nothing like you and me Together through the storm
And then, as if the universe itself has shifted, you feel it. His gaze. It lands on you from across the stage, and for a split second, it feels like the world stops spinning. He doesn’t break his gaze, his eyes steady on yours, but there’s something different now. Something raw. He’s still singing, but now it feels like every word is meant for you.
His voice, still gentle but filled with so much emotion, seems to wrap around you, pulling you into a world where only the two of you exist. The crowd fades away, and all that matters is the connection between you two… his gaze, his voice, his presence. You try to breathe, but it feels like the air has thickened. The way he sings… There's nothing like us, echo in your chest, resonating with a truth that both stings and soothes at the same time.
The moment stretches, heavy and thick, until it feels almost unbearable. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t break eye contact. He just keeps singing, as though the song itself is a confession, a bridge between what you were and what you could have been.
Once Jungkook steps off the stage, you rush back to your cabin, slamming the door behind you. You lean against it, your breath shallow and uneven. Slowly, you sink to the floor, your head falling onto your knees as the floodgates open. The tears come in waves, as if everything you've been holding in is finally breaking free. The pain in your chest is so sharp, so intense, that it almost feels like you can't breathe.
How did it all come to this? Why does it hurt so much? The confusion, the longing, the heartbreak... they all seem to crash down on you at once, overwhelming and relentless. You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in the ache, but you sob until your throat burns and your body trembles. Each sob feels like it’s tearing you apart.
You sit there, motionless, your head still resting on your knees, hugging yourself as if trying to hold onto something, anything. But nothing feels like it makes sense. You feel lost, like you're stranded in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to escape this unbearable pain that seems to consume you.
And just when you think you might drown in the silence of your own grief, you hear a knock on the door. “Y/n? You asleep?” It’s Hoseok again. You sigh, your chest heavy, and rise to your feet. You wipe your face hastily, but it’s no use. The tears are still there, still fresh. You turn and open the door, bracing yourself for whatever he might say.
“Oh… hey.” Hoseok says, but his voice catches when he sees your tear-streaked face. His eyes widen with concern. “Oh my god, Y/n… are you okay?”
You sniffle, your gaze falling to the floor as you shake your head, unable to speak, the weight of everything too much. It’s all it takes for Hoseok to step inside and pull you into his arms. You don't resist. His embrace is warm, safe, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you let yourself sink into it, allowing the tears to fall once more. And this time, you don’t have to be alone in it.
Hoseok's voice is soft, but his words carry weight as he helps you to the edge of your bed, his arms steady and comforting around you as he sits down with you. He doesn't say anything at first, just holds you gently, allowing the silence to stretch between you two.
"I thought I’d check up on you since the talent show just got over." Hoseok finally speaks, his voice low and steady. He pauses for a moment, his hand gently stroking your hair. "I didn’t expect to find you in this state."
You don't say anything, still wrapped up in his embrace, unsure of how to answer. His words seem to echo in the quiet room, but you don’t know what to say. You feel like you're drowning, and yet all you can do is sit there, letting the tears subside, one breath at a time.
"Y/n…" Hoseok whispers your name, his voice filled with concern. He doesn’t push for an answer right away, giving you the space to simply exist in the comfort of his arms. But then, he continues, his voice carrying a soft but steady note of advice. "I know it hurts right now, but you can’t keep burying this inside. You’re only going to keep hurting yourself that way."
His words are gentle, but they cut deep. You remain still, not ready to face what he's saying, but somehow, you know he's right. You're just scared, scared of the vulnerability, the fear of rejection.
"You should try talking to Jungkook." Hoseok says softly. "Even if he’s not ready to listen, even if it feels like he won’t understand, it’s still worth a shot. You deserve to let him know how you feel."
You flinch at the mention of Jungkook’s name, the thought of approaching him so raw, so vulnerable, makes your chest tighten. But Hoseok isn’t done.
"Y/n, liking someone, falling in love... it’s never wrong. You can’t control how you feel, and you don’t have to hide it because it scares you. Love is messy, it’s imperfect, but it’s not something to be ashamed of. You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard."
A quiet sob escapes your lips, and Hoseok tightens his hold on you, not in a way that suffocates you, but with the warmth of someone who truly cares. Hoseok’s words sink in, each one cutting through the fog in your mind. As he holds you, stroking your hair gently, something inside of you shifts. His gentle advice, though simple, sparks a fire you didn’t even know was there. You feel a stir deep within you, a sudden surge of clarity that pushes aside the fear and doubt.
You deserve to be honest, even if it’s hard. The words echo in your mind, over and over, like a mantra. And for the first time in what feels like forever, something inside of you stirs something powerful, something real.
You pull away from Hoseok slightly, your face still wet with tears but your heart feeling a little lighter. You take a deep breath, the weight in your chest now feeling more like anticipation than dread.
“I have to go.” you murmur to Hoseok, your voice shaking but determined. Hoseok looks at you, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. "Are… are you sure?"
You don’t answer at first, just look at him, eyes wide with sudden resolve. “I’m going to talk to him. I can’t keep running away from this.” Without another word, you stand up, the suddenness of it all making your head spin. Your feet move on their own accord, each step purposeful as you cross the room. Hoseok watches, his eyes full of silent support.
As you step out of your cabin, the empty arena and stage immediately catch your attention. Chairs are scattered about, and you scan the area, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jungkook. Your feet start moving almost instinctively, the desire to find him overwhelming. You make your way to his cabin, but there's no response. A small part of you wonders if he’s ignoring you, but you push the thought aside, continuing your search around the resort grounds.
You check the rope bridge, wander through the rose garden, even visit the familiar bench where you once sat together, but there’s no sign of him. Your chest tightens, your heart thumping painfully with each turn, each empty corner. Desperation settles in as you run your fingers through your hair, trying to steady yourself.
And then, finally, you see him.
There he is, sitting in the hot tub, his back turned to you. You freeze in place for a moment, your eyes tracing the outline of his broad shoulders. His elbows rest casually on the rim of the tub, the soft steam rising from the water around him. He doesn’t seem to notice you standing behind him, your presence unnoticed in the quiet night.
For a long while, you just watch him, the sound of the water bubbling softly filling the silence between you. You feel a strange sense of both relief and anxiety. You’ve found him, but the distance between you feels insurmountable. He doesn’t know you’re here, doesn’t know the storm brewing in your chest.
You take a deep breath, mustering every ounce of courage you can find. Without saying a word, you step forward, your heart hammering in your chest. Each step feels heavier than the last, and your hands grip the fabric of your dress, the tightness in your fists mirroring the anxiety bubbling inside you.
When you’re only a few feet away, you can’t hold back anymore. “Jungkook…” you call out, your voice trembling ever so slightly as it cuts through the soft sounds of the bubbling water.
His body stiffens instantly. The tense shift of his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You watch his back, his head slightly bowed, as if he’s trying to ignore your presence. The air between you thickens, the tension palpable as the sound of the water swirls around you, drowning out everything else.
You stand there, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The silence stretches on, thick and uncomfortable, the sound of the bubbling water in the hot tub louder than your racing thoughts. Your hands tremble slightly, and your heart beats erratically as the words you're holding in fight to escape.
"Jungkook…" you call out again, your voice wavering, almost a desperate whisper. It feels like you’re trying to hold a thousand emotions together, but they’re spilling out of you, unstoppable. "I… I don’t even know where to begin, but I need you to hear me out... I really... really need you to just give me a chance... to explain myself."
The air around you feels thick, suffocating, as if your very breath is tangled with everything unsaid. You can see him still not turning to face you, his back a wall, his silence deafening.
A pang of frustration courses through you, but beneath it, there’s something even more powerful... a deep longing, a desperate yearning. You’ve never felt this exposed, yet this desperate to make him understand.
With hesitant steps, you move around the edge of the hot tub, reaching the other side where you can finally see his face, heart racing in your chest as you inch closer. The blue light from the tub spills over the rim, casting soft shadows on his face, making his features seem almost ethereal.
The water ripples, reflecting fragments of his skin, his chest rising and falling with every slow breath. He’s looking down, eyes shadowed, and his tongue absentmindedly tracing the piercings on his lip.
The sight of him, so close yet so distant, breaks something inside you. You swallow, fighting to keep the emotions in check, but it's no use. The tears that you’ve been holding back finally fall freely, slipping down your cheeks despite your best efforts to keep them in.
You take another shaky breath and walk a little closer, your heart pounding louder with every step, until you’re at the very edge of the hot tub. You hesitantly take a seat on the wet rim, opposite to where he's standing in the water. You can feel the warm steam of the boiling water near you, and a sigh escapes your lips as your gaze shifts to him again.
With trembling hands, you wipe away the fresh stream of tears, but they only seem to flow faster, as if your heart itself is breaking and you can no longer hold it together. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice falters, cracking with emotion.
"Are you… really going to ignore me?" you ask, the words feeling like cold metal against your tongue. The tremor in your voice betrays every ounce of control you’ve desperately tried to hold on to. It’s like the weight of your emotions spills out in that single sentence, and Jungkook, as if sensing the raw vulnerability in your tone, finally looks up. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to stop.
The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. His gaze, deep and intense, softens, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes... something like regret, guilt, perhaps even pain, as he takes in the sight of your tear-streaked face. His gaze flicks over the intricate trails of tears on your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the weight you’ve been carrying.
He doesn’t speak immediately, and for a second, you wonder if he’ll turn away again. But instead, he remains still, his expression unreadable yet so undeniably affected. Realizing this is your chance to finally speak, you begin.
"I… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything that happened. I never meant for it to turn out like this. I… I was so scared… scared of how things had suddenly changed between us. But, Jungkook, I—" Your voice falters, and a sob escapes before you can stop it. You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat, but the tears continue to fall, relentless.
Jungkook’s breath catches in his chest when he sees the tears streaming down your face. It’s like a punch to the gut, and he feels it deep within himself. At that moment, he realizes just how much he despises seeing you cry, how every tear you shed breaks him in ways he can’t even put into words. He doesn’t want to see you like this... not hurt, not broken.
He swallows hard, his throat tight as guilt floods through him. The past two days have been an absolute nightmare for him. After confessing his feelings in the most chaotic, confusing way possible, all he could do was push you away, though every part of him screamed to reach out. Ignoring you was the last thing he ever wanted to do, but in a twisted way, he convinced himself it was the only way to deal with everything that had changed between you two.
He thought it would make things easier, but instead, it only twisted the knife deeper, making him feel more lost than ever. You were the only person he wanted to talk to, the only person who could make him feel whole again and yet, ironically, you were also the one person he felt he couldn’t face.
His elbows shift off the rim of the hot tub, and with slow and steady steps inside the warm water, he makes his way towards the other end of the tub where you’re seated on the rim. "Hey..." he calls out softly, but you just can’t stop crying. The words he wants to say seem to get caught in his throat, as if he’s afraid to say the wrong thing, yet helpless to remain silent.
He rests his palms on the rim, right behind you, as you remain hunched, your face buried in your hands. You don’t acknowledge his presence immediately, still consumed by the storm of emotion inside you.
Before he can say another word, you're speaking again, your voice shaky and broken, each word heavy with the weight of everything you’ve been holding back. "You don’t know how much it hurts, seeing you like this, seeing you… push me away when all I want is... to talk to you... to... to be with you." Your voice cracks as you try to gather yourself, but the tears just won’t stop.
"I’ve been holding this in for so long, because I thought if I kept quiet, things would get better, but they haven’t. They never will, unless I say this…" The silence that follows is suffocating, the words hanging in the air between you, raw and unfiltered. Jungkook’s expression softens, his gaze flickering with something almost unreadable, but the guilt is clear.
He watches you carefully, unable to tear his eyes away as you continue to break open before him. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t try to stop the flow of your confession. He knows, in this moment, that the only thing he can do is listen, because no matter how hard it is to hear, you need to speak your truth.
You take another shaky breath, finally moving your hands away from your face as you turn to look at him. He’s so much more closer now as he looks up at you from the hot tub.
"I care about you… I care about you so much, Jungkook. I think I’ve always cared, even when I didn’t know how to show it. And now, all I can do is watch you drift away, and I hate it. I hate how I made you think that I didn’t feel the same… that I didn’t want this. But I do. I want us.... and I so badly wanted our fake relationship to be… to be real.”
The sobs start coming again, stronger this time, making it harder to get the words out. "I like you. I like you so much. And it hurts to see you looking at me like I’m a stranger when all I’ve wanted was for you to understand that you mean so much more to me... you're not... not my rival.. not my enemy..."
You stop for a moment, trying to gather yourself. The weight of everything you’ve been holding in crashes over you like a wave, but you continue, your voice breaking as you speak. "I’m sorry if this is too much, if I’m saying all the wrong things, but I just… I can’t keep pretending anymore. I can’t stand this distance between us… especially knowing I’m the reason behind it. Please just… forgive me. It was never just an act to me… I swear."
You wipe your face with the back of your hand, your trembling fingers only making the tears blur more. Your stomach churns with the overwhelming weight of everything you’ve just poured out. The silence that follows feels like it stretches for miles, too heavy to bear, and you can't bring yourself to look at him.
Your eyes stay lowered, afraid to see the disappointment or confusion that you might find in his gaze. Afraid of the silence that might follow your confession.
But then, you feel a warmth against your back... his hand, gentle but firm, resting there. It startles you, but you don't move. He doesn't say anything, but you feel his presence growing stronger as he slowly guides your body to face him, carefully moving you on the rim of the hot tub.
Your legs dip into the water, the warmth of it momentarily soothing the aching in your chest, but the heat of the moment, the proximity between you and Jungkook, is all consuming.
You look down at him, still unsure of what’s happening, but then you feel him tug you forward, ever so gently, until your body slips off the rim and is immersed in the boiling water. The warmth of the water seems to fade in comparison to the heat that’s building between you both.
Your heart races, a thousand thoughts swirling in your head, but the moment you feel his hands settle around your waist, your breath catches. He’s holding you, steadying you, inching you closer until you’re completely within his space.
Your mind spins as you try to process what’s happening. You can’t decide if you should pull away or lean into him, but the way he holds you…so carefully, yet with a quiet urgency, makes you stay. The water bubbles around you both, but the world around you feels so distant. It’s just him and you in this moment. You try to steady your breathing, but the knot in your chest only tightens.
"Jungkook..." you whisper, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His gaze softens, his small smile lingering as he listens, his gaze never leaving your face. His eyes twitch and his heart breaks as he notices the tears on your cheeks, but finally being in this moment has him feeling lighter.
He lets out a light laugh, his tone shifting to a teasing one, "Took you long enough." his smile widening a little more. But then, as if to lighten the mood, his tone changes, filled with playful curiosity, "Is someone watching us right now, or are you being for real?"
The shift in his tone, the way he jokes despite everything that’s been said, catches you off guard. But despite the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you, a small giggle escapes your lips, the sound strange but freeing in the silence that had weighed so heavily before. You wipe your face again, but this time, it’s not just tears... there’s a small trace of relief, of hope.
"I don’t care if anyone's watching or not..." you whisper, the weight of your confession finally slipping off your shoulders. And then, as if you’re no longer holding anything back, you take a deep breath, your voice trembling slightly as you continue, "But Jungkook, I…" You falter for just a moment, unsure of how to let this truth unfold.
His hands tug you closer in the water, the intimacy of the gesture settling within you, making your heart beat faster.
You can feel his body so close to yours, your dress still clinging to your skin under the rippling surface of the warm water, but you shove the thought aside. None of it matters anymore... not the water, not the fact that you're in the hot tub with your clothes still on. All that matters is the words you’re finally ready to say.
"I like you." you whisper softly, each word feeling like it holds all the emotions you’ve kept hidden for so long. "I like you... so much. And truthfully, these feelings aren’t new. I think a part of me has always liked you this way."
The confession slips out so naturally, but it feels like a weight has been lifted. You’ve finally said what’s been buried deep inside you, what you've struggled with for so long, with so much resolve and confidence. And as Jungkook listens, the silence between you now feels different.... lighter, warmer, almost like a promise in itself.
Jungkook smiles, his heart leaping in his chest. “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly, his voice soft, like he needs you to say it all again. You nod frantically, inching closer in the water as you feel his form against yours. “I do. I mean every word. And if I’ve ruined everything between us, I’m so sorry. But I had to tell you, even if it changes nothing.”
For a moment, he just stares down at you, the reflection of the water reflecting in his dark eyes. “You haven’t ruined anything...” he murmurs, his grip tightening around your waist. “If anything, I’ve been the one ruining it by staying away when all I wanted was to be close to you.”
Your breath hitches as he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. “You scared me too, you know....” he pauses, the bubbling sound of the water filling the air again. “I wasn’t sure if what I felt for you was too much, too soon. But now I know… it’s never too much.... You’re never too much.”
As his forehead rests against yours, your eyes remain closed as you intently listen to him as a small smile tugs your trembling lips. "So... what now?" you ask quietly.
You feel him pull away just a little and you notice how his lips curve into a small, tender smile. “Now, we stop running... we stop this fake relationship and we get our shits together.” His laugh escapes at the end, low and warm, and you can’t help but giggle through the tears still clinging to your lashes.
“So no more acts?” you tease gently as you rest your palms against his bare chest. “No more acts.” he promises, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with quiet determination and a depth of affection that leaves you breathless.
The moment stretches, heavy with an unspoken tension, until Jungkook leans in slightly, his gaze dropping to your lips. He hesitates, as if searching for permission, and you feel your breath catch. Slowly, you close the gap yourself, and the moment your lips meet, it's like you've wanted nothing more than this.
His kiss is soft at first, tentative, like a question he’s finally found the courage to ask. The warmth of it washes over you, melting every ounce of fear and hesitation. You lean into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders as he pulls you closer, his grip on your waist firm and steady.
When the kiss deepens, it’s unhurried and achingly tender, like he’s trying to pour every unsaid word and feeling into it. His wet hand moves to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as if to soothe the tears that still linger there.
When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest together, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. His eyes flutter open, and there’s a flicker of vulnerability mixed with relief.
“I don’t even know how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” he admits, his voice low and raspy, barely audible over the gentle bubbling of the water. His dark eyes, brimming with sincerity, search yours as if you hold the answer to every question he’s ever been afraid to ask. His lips curve into a soft, almost bashful smile. “Maybe forever.” he adds.
His words wash over you like the warm water surrounding you, leaving you breathless and weightless all at once. Your heart flips, and for the first time, it feels like all the pieces of the puzzle have fallen into place. A small, shy smile spreads across your face as your fingers trace the line of his jaw, the motion as delicate as the emotions coursing through you.
“You’re so cute.” you murmur, your palm now resting on his cheek. He lets out a soft laugh, the sound vibrating through the air and settling somewhere deep in your chest. “No, you’re the cute one.” he counters, his tone playful but tender.
Before you can reply, his hands shift, traveling from your waist to the back of your thighs. In one swift, fluid motion, he lifts you effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. The sudden movement steals your breath, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you’re filled with a warmth that melts away any lingering hesitations.
A giggle escapes your lips, light and free, breaking through the tension like sunlight cutting through storm clouds. You're amused by his actions, but somehow, it all feels undeniably right. “There’s nothing like you, I swear.” you murmur, your laughter softening as your gaze locks onto his. Your eyes shine with an unspoken joy, the weight of your emotions finally finding their voice.
His hands tighten their grip, anchoring you to him as though letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to entertain. “Well...” he says, his gaze burning with a quiet intensity that leaves you breathless. “There’s nothing like us.”
And in that moment, you know he’s right. The journey to this point had been anything but easy... regular arguments, constant disagreements, misunderstandings that felt impossible to untangle and of course, a fake relationship. But somewhere in the chaos, you’d found something real. Something worth fighting for.
He tilts his head, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek with a reverence that makes your heart stutter. “I didn’t think I could let myself feel like this for someone.” he whispers. “But you... you’re everything I didn’t know I needed. You’re the person who makes everything make sense.” he smiles.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, not from pain or fear, but from the overwhelming joy of being seen, truly seen.
Somehow, his lips find yours again, slow and soft, the kiss carrying the weight of everything unspoken. It’s not rushed or desperate, it’s steady and sure, a promise of the future you’ll build together. Each moment feels endless, as if time itself has paused to honor the love blooming between you.
When you finally pull away, the world feels lighter, the air filled with possibility. “We’ve come a long way.” you say, wonder threading through your voice. His smile turns mischievous, his eyebrow quirking as his playful side reemerges. “From glaring at each other during meetings and passing snarky comments every 3 seconds... to this?” he teases, his laughter soft and contagious.
You roll your eyes, though the corners of your mouth lift in a smile. “I still think you’re insufferable sometimes.” you shrug.
“And I still think you’re stubborn.” he shoots back, his grin widening as he hugs your waist tighter. “But honestly, I think I can live with that.” you reply, your voice softening as your hand brushes against his nape, your touch tender.
“Good.” he whispers, pulling you into a warm embrace, the water rippling gently around you both. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
—fin. ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ
my masterlist <3
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tojirights · 1 year ago
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I absolutely love your Alastor smut! Is there anyway you can make one where your Vox’s ex and Alastor decided to somehow show off to Vox how much reader loves his c*ck more?? A special broadcast maybe?? Please keep up the great work!
a/n: i love vox but if there's one thing i love more, its making him feel inferior to alastor 😍 this is soo good. REQUESTS OPEN! 🩷
tags: 18+ smut nsfw!
vox thought alastor couldn't get any worse, there was nothing that shit-for-brains demon could do to enrage him more. that was until valentino told him that alastor had a new pretty little thing hanging on his arm. "he WHAT?!" vox's voice cracks from the sheer force he puts behind those words. valentino snickers, watching vox run to his security room.
and there you were, locked arms with that fucking deer demon, walking down the street. you looked absolutely enthralled with that fucker! "you've gotta be fucking kidding me..." he growls, static filling his vision. as if alastor can sense that they're being watched, he winks at the camera and pulls you down a more secluded path. vox puts his fist straight through the screen before pacing around the room. it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before his ears pick up that voice, that shitty radio voice.
"good evening viewers!" alastor begins, making vox's head spin around. the tvs were blank, just audio playing through them. he's about to smash the rest of them when something catches his attention. he swears he hears a familiar noise, your noises specifically. then he hears you panting, and blood rushes to his groin first and then his face. "thank you for tuning into a very special late night broadcast." alastor's voice sounds... breathier.
"what the fuck is-" vox mutters to himself before his eyes go wide. "o-oh god." you moan, sounding far too sexy. and enjoying yourself far too much. "yes alastor, fuck. that's so good." your whines play out, filling the room and vox is just about to lose it. "is alastor fucking your ex?" valentino leans against the doorframe, a smug look on his face. "you’re so tight, my dear. your cunt was made for my cock just as i was made for radio." he laughs to himself, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you over his desk.
this little plan of his was working just as intended. he asked, of course, if you'd be interested in ruffling your exes feathers a little bit and you agreed. this special broadcast was only being shown directly to vox through his security. not a single other soul would be able to hear you but vox. it sent a certain chill up your spine, knowing that he was definitely listening. every thrust of alastor's cock presses you harder into the desk, bruises sure to form later in the evening.
"that's kinda hot, yknow-" "SHUT UP VAL." vox feels as though he's about to implode, anger coursing through him in a way he's sure he's never felt. "i am going to finish him. both of them. they won't live this down."
valentino covers his mouth to stop from laughing. "it sounds like they're about to finish each other." and he was right. your breathy little moans are a dead giveaway. "please, please your cock feels so good. g-gonna cum." vox paces the room, plotting your downfall but his cock is hard as a fucking rock in his pants.
"such a good girl, you are. you sing so pretty my dear." alastor grunts, pressing the head of his cock up against your cervix before he feels you clamp down around him. with every pulse of youe orgasm, alastor follows. "cum alastor, p-please fill my pussy." you gasp, riding out wave after wave of deep pleasure. vox should turn this off, he should walk away but he can't make his feet move.
and after alastor finishes deep inside of you, filling you to the point of it leaking down his cock, he lets out an almost sinister chuckle. "thank you my loyal viewers for tuning in for this one of a kind show! we hope you thoroughly enjoyed."
the room is silent after the broadcast ends. that is, until velvette clears her throat. "was that alastor fucking your bitch?" she raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading over her lips when she sees vox's face.
"no one talk to me. i have business to attend to." and with that, vox disappears, leaving valentino and velvette to themselves.
"bold move, i gotta hand it to him."
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aaksuitac · 3 months ago
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[04:24 am] “what are we?”
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wc: 2.3k
a/n: [fluff viktor brainrot thanks to @dilemmars. t dije q me vengaría baby, así q zas, un payback por tus podcasts jdjfjjsd. hope u like cause its ur fault]
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he’s humming something you don’t quite understand, a distant tune that sounds familiar —probably you’ve heard him sing it before—, and even if you don’t recognize the melody aside from that, you can’t help but appreciate it.
his hands fidget with whatever he can reach as he sighs once more, as if he was stealing breaths from the world, heavy, almost as lidded as his eyelids. his hair falls on his eyes and in between his slender fingers while he curls the untamed strands, and you fall into an endless pit of staring at him as he scribbles, grunts, sighs, and finally pinches the bridge of his nose.
“statistically speaking, i’m starting to feel like the chances of me getting this right are adversatively proportional to the chances of you accidentally swallowing a fly.”
and you just blink, once, then twice.
he stares at you, gives you a pointed look. he can’t really say if you understood that you were just staring at him with your mouth parted, but you squint at him, snickering.
“what,” his low voice fails to ask, unbothered, knowing that you’ll answer regardless.
and you do, answering. “you haven’t even uttered a word in a while. i was just surprised that you could still talk, is all,” you grin cheekily, playing with a screw on the table as you turn left and right on the chair you’re sitting on.
viktor looks at you, and he can’t help but crack a smile. point for you.
“what you laughing for, mhh, mister science?”
“isn’t it enough to bother me from the moment i get inside the lab in the morning that you need to do it at night too?” he pretends seriousness, side-eyeing you teasingly.
“fair enough. i will consider your offer, man of fleeting memory, and take it upon myself to bother you longer.”
his mean stare wouldn’t even make a kitten mewl, but you take you hand to your heart, pretending to be wounded.
“don’t look at me like that! you’ll hurt my feewings,” you pouted, much to his amusement.
“fleeting memory?” he scoffs, accent rolling off his tongue. “when’s the last time you lost a hairtie, mmh?” he mocks.
“unfair!” you can’t help but giggle as you pretend to hide your hair from his view. point for him. “besides. i take better care of my hair than you do of yours.” you pouted smuggly. “mine looks prettier.”
“what?” he finally asks, letting out a chuckle this time as his eyes land on you for the first time in the good part of an hour.
you play with your hair to style it, and funnily pose, hands on your cheeks as you lay your elbows on the table.
“what, don’t I look pretty?” you smiled, letting out a cheeky giggle.
yes. he doesn’t say it, but his eyes haven’t dodged back to his papers just yet. it’s another point for you. so very pretty.
he doesn’t dare. he knows it. his mind, or at least the small portion of his mind that still ties him with the occasional reminder that he’s human, looks at you and wants you in a way that he’s never wanted before.
so viktor resolves in looking at you. maybe only for a moment, maybe only on those fragments of time when he’s tired enough that he looks at the stars and at the moon, yearning to reach them, only to think he’ll miss the moonlight, finally blinking to the realization that he had been staring into your eyes for too long.
his eyes are dull as he stares at you, and your expression of worry at the fact makes his heart skip a beat. “viktor?” you mumble, softly, sleepily, warily. he can’t stop staring at you, and while he supposes success and defeat can look the same in a mirror —therefore, he doesn’t really blame your confusion—, he finds no words to explain which one he’s feeling as you move your chair towards him by a push against the floor, solely accompanied by the sound of the little wheels rolling to him.
he grabs his walking stick and turns it around, pretending to poke at your chair, as if to teasingly shove it away. if you realize that he settles the walking stick just in the correct place so that your stool can’t move back, he doesn’t know. viktor just stares at the floor, to pretend that maybe the way your eyes turn tender when his reflection shines on them has nothing to do with what you’re about to say.
tsk, tsk. clueless viktor.
he’s expecting it, yes, but even with that on mind, he can’t phathom how your course of action chooses laughing as you fidget with the loose button on his vest, the second one from the top down. viktor purposely forces himself to stable his breathing, worry seeping into him, thinking that maybe you could feel his heartbeat grow faster beneath the layers of clothing.
and he feels like the remnants of a cheap ring that stain a finger blue, when comparing himself as he stands —sits— close and next to you. maybe its because you usually wear rings, and he can feel the ghost of them as your hand trails up and absentmindedly fixes his collar.
he can almost see it. your mind working, the pieces falling into place, the—
“either my eyes are deceiving me or yours have been on my lips for a rather long time.”
and he can just. blink. as if that could break how mesmerized he feels, how his heart swells up and covers his throat, how inexplicably he feels when you’re with him, near and alone. the need to know more. the need to use every trinket and screw to map out your body for him to explore, and to map out the wonders of your mind for the world to admire and maybe then find out the reason of his inability to look away.
he was so focused before. used to be.
he is. now, at you. of you. on you.
you.
another point for you. he isn’t keeping count, but something tells him he’s losing.
and as his gaze falls back to your lips in between a battle against your eyes, lost in which to stare and sink into their devotion, he hesitates again.
he thinks its funny. so funny, viktor holds back the dry chuckle that threatens to go past his lips. how to cherish you in a way that matters. how to love, the scientist wonders. is there a way that would allow him to unveil and unravel himself to you? could there be some kind of language, able to express the depth of his insides, that you, too, could understand?
what is love, anyways? is he in love with you because his coffee tastes better when it matches the dark of your pupils? because when he takes the mug from your hand and his fingers brush against yours, it seems warmer? because he notices how the dark shade in your eyes seems to mix with that of your irises, and the way the black eats the colour when you stare at him? because he claims to hate company while he studies alone, but one chair remains empty as he works, waiting for who it was meant for? because when he fails and surrenders himself to the fall, throws his walking stick against the wall, he yearns for your embrace and how your hair smells in the evenings?
is that love? and if it is, could you understand it?
if it is love, and he could say it, would such a short word convey its meaning, or was he speculating just a couple of paragraphs ago? was he assuming the meaning of what love entails?
even so. if he said it, would you repeat it? would you claim you love him because he loves you, claim to love him too? would you instead claim to love him despite everything, even the uncertainty of love itself?
…does he accept it himself?
he’s overwhelmed by the sheer amount of voices in his head. there’s too much chatter. too many questions he can’t answer, too many commas, too many question marks. too much, too much, too many.
so he silences them. makes the voices dim to a deep silence. and when his lips find themselves suddenly against yours, he finds out the true, effervescent meaning of quietness.
his hand fails to pull you closer because of the damn walking stick that gets in the way. or maybe its the chairs you’re both on that clash against each other. maybe its matter itself. for a while, its the first time viktor doesn’t want to know.
in a bold statement, he couldn’t give a fuck.
he’s kissing you.
and it should be bad because of all the unanswered questions. he’s skipping procedure. he’s gone from the fuck around to finding out and he doesn’t know where he is at this point.
what he does know, is that your hand pulls him by his necktie, and he’s gone. science? yours only. the science that he’d study all of the nights he may have left. the science behind what makes you. the science behind how your hand craddles his face while stroking his cheekbones. the science behind how you’re the closest you’ve ever been to him and somehow still not close enough. the science behind the reason why when you pull away makes his heart beat so loudly, as if it had forgotten how to a second ago.
your forehead rests against his. he shouldn’t have done that. he just… did it. maybe that was bad. was it? could it be? he had been waiting for so long too. he never thought he would…
“viktor, what are we?”
and he’s dead. he knows what the question implies, but he doesn’t want to answer. he could follow you like a lost puppy through piltover and zaun and hell knows where else. if he wasn’t dead now he would die right there and now without a second thought, because the feeling that overcame him was that love was suddenly a sentence or two away.
he knows he doesn’t dare. it’s one of the only thing he knows, one of the things he’s sure of.
but somehow, he moves. he stands up, takes the walking stick, and attempts to walk out the feeling that bounces inside him.
the walking stick always makes a noise when he walks, one with dificulties to interpret in terms of onomatopeia. not quite a thud, not deep enough to reach that quality. not a clack, for it is not entirely made of metal. still, as if it was a mix of both, he keeps walking.
viktor is nervous. thud-clack. he’s not moving far from his chair, nor is he going somewhere else. thud-clack. he still keeps pacing. thud-clack. maybe the answer is somewhere in the room. thud-clack. maybe he can reply.
thud-clack, thud-clack, thud-clack.
only does he then realize that he hasn’t answered your question. and a non-answer statement might as well be a rejection.
no. no, no, no. fuck.
he’s sitting again, but you stand up. your hair follows, long. moving and brushing against the skin of your shoulders in a way that he can’t help but claim it to be endearing.
you’re walking. you don’t make any kind of extra sound when you walk. your heels reverberate against the floor like any other, yet also they mark the beat of his heart.
he can’t reach for you. you walk too fast.
you stop when you feel the walking stick on your side. the part made for him to lean on as he walks hooks you, and you stand, not facing him.
he doesn’t use the walking stick as he stands. no, he keeps it hooked to your core, scared that you might leave. you could, he wouldn’t blame you. but he can’t allow it.
he holds it in the air as he takes one step. another step. you’re turning, surprised to see him standing, and you gasp when he lets himself fall on you.
your touch surrounds him. yes. that’s the closeness he needed. he drops the walking stick, his hands slithering on your body, pressing you against him, for no reason at all yet because it is all needs.
“what can we be?” he whispers. he takes the science approach. the viktor approach.
he isn’t too clueless after all.
he raises enough to look at your darkened, sleepy eyes. he wants to drown in them.
“if i wanted to kiss you everytime you hand me coffee, wanted you to sit on the same chair as ne and hug me from behind as I work, wanted you.” he swallows dry. “then, what can we be?”
he doesn’t want to say the words, and its petty.
it’s the 31st when the clock strickes five am and your hands travel through his hair to kiss him again. to unbalance him enough that he falls back on his chair and you follow him, sitting on his lap.
and as he kisses you, his hands worshipping the skin he can touch, the warmth he can feel through layers of clothing, he feels like maybe there’s a life worth living, so he can’t ask.
he’s heard boys and girls when he was young talk about it. “he didn’t want to celebrate our month-versary,” a girl cried as he played with his little boat, watching from afar as she was comforted by her friend.
it’s the 31st. and he can’t really ask the question now, because if he says it, how could you celebrate each month?
he moves the chair and holds you in his arms as your back falls against the table before him. maybe he can kiss you until next month. until the clock strikes and it’s the 1st.
he smiles as he kisses you, feeling you pull his necktie off. he thinks it’s the best idea he’s had in a while. and a true scientist always tries out their hypothesis.
~k.k. (☆) have fun!
aaksuitac, november 2024 ©
2K notes · View notes
sunboki · 17 days ago
Text
⎯ for eternity longer. ⟡ featuring christopher bahng
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🍼 : Christopher Bahng x implied! fem. reader
TROPE. pregnancy! au, dad! channie au, overall so so fluffy, comfort, slighttt angst if you squint
WORD COUNT. 6.4k words ☆ 30 minute read
WARNINGS. worry about delivery complications, cursing (??), anxiety, implied intercourse, regards to gender
AUG'S NOTES. i think channie would be an amazing dad :) just a thought i decided to place to paper (in this case, digitally). thank you for waiting so patiently!! please enjoy <3
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. Christopher Bahng had intentions upon one day being a father, but when the news of a little one on the way becomes the forefront of a life he’d initially spent with one world, you, he’s quickly introduced to the second world he’ll come to adore, a baby.
or alternatively :
Blossoming beginnings, and the bump.
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“Channie, baby,”
His name is whispered between sleepy breaths, brows knitted where your eyes attempt at focusing amidst a slumbering haze.
The meager vision granted from a candle paves view to your husband, currently resting his cheek against the soft bump of your belly, pressing the occasional kiss there.
“It’s so cute,” He mumbles, tracing shapes along the skin, eyes crinkling into the dimpled-smile you’ve come to adore.
“‘S late.”
Offering the remark, you smooth a thumb along his jaw, dipping down to trace his bottom lip and earning a small peck against the digit in reply, chocolate irises flickering up to your face with so much love you fear you’re melting.
“I know,” Chris whispers where his lips press to your thumb, voice muffled. “I’m sorry just—“
One chaste kiss to your belly later and he cracks a smile.
“Just love it.” 
Another kiss, then another.
“Love you, love this. I’m so happy.” 
You are my world, he professes wordlessly, and you scorn the heaviness of your eyes in shielding him from view, the inability for your vocal cords to utter those same three words as you drift back to sleep.
And this is my second world, Chris thinks to himself, fighting slumber to gaze at you just a moment longer, savor. 
Because he couldn’t explain how lucky he is, and how beautiful you are, and how warm he feels, his head fuzzy and jumbled into mushy bliss.
A baby, and the thought alone makes him want to squeal.
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Chris had yet to ever be hit by a tsunami (thank goodness for that), but he thinks he’s found an equivalent to the feeling.
That equivalent being a particular call while in the studio, an unsettlingly studious Han Jisung seated behind him on the couch while Changbin stands in the recording room, pointing out things in need of fine tuning.
So when you call, he’s led to believe it could be regarding dinner, maybe a date preposition away from his busied schedule.
Yet, upon hearing a sniffle, his eyes round to the size of saucers, index aptly missing where he’d click his mouse, drawing the attention of his fellow producers, their eyes narrowed in mild concern.
“Chris.. baby, I know this is so.. so sudden but,” Between your hiccups and his heart racing, he reruns everything that could’ve gone amiss. He knew you were running late when it came to your period thanks to the cycle-tracking app on his phone, but then again, usually it’d miraculously show up.
Maybe he’d said something? Forgotten something?
Birthday, anniversary, a family member passing?
His head fills with a plethora of possibilities, too many to pinpoint.
“Baby I,” You pause, and Chris rises up to slip to the corner of the room, shushing you gently.
“Hey, hey honey, ‘need you to take deep breaths, okay? It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay. Tell me whenever you’re ready.” He consoles, shifting from foot to foot in a futile attempt at warding the nerves.
A sharp inhale and then-
“We’re having a baby, Chris. I’m pregnant.”
It’s hard for you to even believe, and Chris swears his stomach jumped to his throat for a moment, making hurried eye contact with an evidently confused Han and Changbin from across the studio.
Pregnant.
Immediately abandoning his work, he grants the two a hurried nod they simply wave in response to, fervently racing from the building and somehow managing to avoid a ticket on his 20-mile-over-the-speed-limit drive home, rushing through the doorway to scoop you up into his arms and hold you close, let you cry as much as you need.
Hell, he’s not the one carrying the baby anyway. You’re the one in need of all the fretting.
As if he didn’t fret over you anyway.
Tender fingers ease back the strands of hair from your face, pressing kiss after kiss to your sniffling frame.
If you want to keep the baby, if you need time to think, time to be alone, he’s ready for that. All of it. 
Though contraceptives were always in play when it came to the bedroom, it seemed some things would remain out of control.
“I’m.. hic.. I’m keeping it, okay?”
And he’s okay with that, okay with anything his beloved decides upon, thumbing the tears from your pretty face to place a slow kiss to your lips.
On this presumably routine Thursday of his, Chris finds out he’s going to be a Dad.
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If there was an acute title to cover the months of your pregnancy, it would be: Ways Christopher Bahng Has Lost His Mind, A Saga. 
Plus the bump, of course.
As for today, at a darling twelve weeks, Chris’s cup of coffee grows cold the longer he entertains a call from Jisung—currently being berated for failing to give them even the slightest clue what was going on until dropping the news.
..In which ensues a screaming Hyunjin in the background, Minho’s snide jokes, Changbin’s silent shock, and the evident awe of the surrounding members leering by the phone where the friend group went for drinks.
Minus the dad-to-be.
”So.. Daddy-O, how’s the father thing going for you?” Jisung offers after a moment, his snickering followed by Chris’s bemused scoff. 
“A dream,” He replies, running a hand through curly brown strands wound into charming coils from earlier steam, having stepped from the shower moments ago.
It was true, every bit.
To think that you, his love he’s worried more about than anyone, spent countless nights awake thinking of has now granted him the greatest gift of a lifetime leaves him elated. 
Trust, the first ultrasound he cried as if he was the baby.
Of course, failing to give their leader a second of reprieve, his remark earns a cacophony of swooning and cringing in response to the sappiness.
Nonetheless, since the announcement he’s organized an update in schedule. More work from home, more paychecks cashed into maternity magazines and things he learns with time in order to support your pregnancy, and tagging along to each and every checkup.
With you already sleeping and him returning late from the studio, the night is slow, quiet. 
Well, after he hangs up.
”Hey sweetness, ‘sorry for waking you.”
Watching your face crinkle up as the bed dips beneath his weight, he reaches a hand forward, sweeping the hair from your face as your husband spoons you close to his back, exhaling a heavy sigh of relief.
Your smell, your warmth, touch.
He’s far too smitten to be healthy.
But then again, is there any remedy to adoration?
“Busy at the studio?” You murmur from your curled up spot, only just beginning to get used to sleeping on your side.
Of the many adjustments.
“Mm,” A nod nudges at your back, his fingertips—oh so careful as they roam—settling on your stomach, holding the skin with reverence you can’t help but hum in response to.
“I cannot believe you,” Begun with a bemused scoff, you earn your husbands grunt of confusion and yet another laugh on your end.
“There’s barely a bump and they’ve got you wrapped around their finger already.”
This, predictably, results in Chris’s boyish whine. 
“‘S not my fault,” He groans like a petulant teenager, nosing at the nape of your neck. 
“Just love you.” 
His voice is a mere utterance amidst the fan overhead, and you have to crane to hear him.
“And I’m going to be learning to love someone else soon.”
A soft squeeze to your belly.
“How exciting.” 
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Twenty weeks, and your big journey comes in the form of grocery shopping, something you insisted upon doing alone (much to Chris’s fretting).
Although he tries his best in not being a mother hen, it’s beyond difficult without his instinctive worry butting in, so nervous for a reason he himself can’t even pinpoint.
Is he worried about you? Is he excited about the baby? 
Endless questions swim in his mind, dappling a world he once knew as black and white into shades of pastel, with charming rubber duckies and pacifiers to boot.
It’s a new world, one full of unfamiliar things and little surprises along the way. 
But he’s made his promise to lay off the stressing as much as he can, knowing you need time for you most of all before becoming new parents.
Crouched over the tiny home studio he’s procured, your husband arduously searches through files—sending the majority over to Jisung and Changbin for revisions back at the main studio.
From the corner or his vision does he see you and—
Ah.
There you stand, clad in a sweater of yours tucked into a long, flower-patterned skirt—just enough to show off the bump, and he swears he’s looking at you with heart-eyes.
Gorgeous.
If not more.
Yet another reason why Chris has lost his mind.
You’re more beautiful than anyone he's ever seen, and he doubts that factor will change for the rest of his life. Even when you’re emotional and begin growing insecure, when your feet hurt or when your cravings grow too volatile, he adores.
Too much sometimes he fears his heart will beat from his chest. 
“Hi, sweetness.” 
The words are a bit hoarse, spoken as if he were uttering the endearment through a tube. 
“Hi, Channie.”
Shoot him.
Joking.
Kind of.
You’re too cute. He’s going to have a heart attack. 
Looking like that, cupid has his job cut out for him.
“You headed out?”
Reaching for your bag does Chris rise from his chair, padding over to gather your face in his hands and press a slow kiss to your lips you soak up, your own hands winding into curly strands he groans in response to.
“Mm,” He begins after a moment, kiss after kiss pressed to your jaw, down your neck, by your earlobe his teeth nip at. “I’m getting déjà vu on how the baby got here, hm?”
Spurring your laughter and a light smack to his shoulder in response, his warm hands slip down to cradle your belly, a final touch followed by one last kiss before you’re off.
It’s much too easy to fall in love with this man over and over again.
.
.
.
Of many surprises throughout your pregnancy, Lee Minho knowing about babies happened to be yet another. That, and seeing him at the grocery store in the first place.
The baby food aisle is more than daunting, and while the determined part of you crooned about “making it yourself” and taking the time to mash up each and every carrot and apple slice, the sensible part knew the moment you were discharged from the hospital after delivery, there was no chance you’d take on such a task.
“This one’s good.”
Having been greeted with a small wave of his hand and quieted footsteps approaching close, the dancer peers into your cart, brows lifted in silent acquisition where he points to a brand of mashed banana purée. 
How he knows this baby food is good is beyond you. 
Then again, Minho has always been peculiar.
“Hm? Any other recommendations?” You ponder, deciding to entertain his conversation and gaining plenty of recommendations whilst roaming about in the process.
Though, that’s before a frivolous little boy comes blindly tottering along, his clumsy limbs aimed straight for you prior to Minho’s careful step shielding you, the panicked mother steering the toddler away with endless apologies.
About to thank him, he seems to beat you to it.
“Mm? Need to sit down?” Observant eyes flitting over your form, he places an assuring hand to the middle of your back you can’t help but feel appreciative of.
It’s not that Minho isn’t kind, he’s usually just.. more subtle about it. Putting extra food a member likes on their plate without them noticing, making sure everyone feels included during dinners.
So for him to be a bit more upfront about it is.. sweet.
Well, until a wry smile tugs at his lips in amusement.
“‘Think you can handle that? A toddler like that?”
And.. there’s the Minho you’re used to.
“I think..” The thought comes to you as you venture, his hand remaining where it lingers upon your sweater-clad back as you make for the checkout line.
“The baby will look more like Chris.”
This beckons a cocked brow, evident mischief on his face.
“What, balding at twenty-six?”
You were thinking cute, with Chris’s curls and big brown eyes but— yeah, that too apparently. Your husband would both burst out laughing and burst into tears if he were here, the mental image bringing a smile to your lips.
Nevertheless, you spend your time with the feline-like companion cracking not-so-funny jokes and snide but playful remarks, a silent “thank you” mouthed when he lifts the grocery bags from your hands to carry to the car.
“Say, what’re you doing over here anyway?” 
“Mmh?” He perks up, fluffy bangs fringing beneath a bucket hat upon his head, the slow gust of an occasional breeze announcing Winter’s gradual departure, moseying on to Spring.
“Ah,” Bunny-like teeth peek from his upper lip when his lips part, hoisting a single bag of his own upward. “Food for the kitties.” 
Of course.
The corner of your lips quirk into a grin.
Though, before you’re given the chance to slip into the front seat, he points again, regarding your bump this time.
“Should stop by sometime,” He starts, pausing before glancing down to your feet. “Or I can come to you two if you’re not up to it.” 
There it is, the tiny shred of consideration you treasure, one so swift you may miss it if you aren’t listening closely that warms your heart effortlessly.
“The kitties would knead your belly,” Mumbled quieter than the rest, a giggle stirs from his chest, wishing you off after a few moments the same way he greeted you: a wave and a small, awkward, tight-lipped smile.
And on your ride home, you decide upon giving Chris a call.
“Do you think the baby will start balding early?”
A chaste silence and some crackling from the other side of the line and then- 
“What.”
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“‘M outside the studio, baby.”
“You’re what?”
A second “what”, after the balding question those few weeks ago.
Chris wants to think tricks are being played on him after having pleaded for you to stay home and wait to be pampered when he returns, but it seemed the leader—with his own stubborn tirade of seven—had forgotten his wife was equally as stubborn, and that if you were adamant on something, there’s no chance you’d budge.
And so, as the ultimate pushover(which he’ll admit himself) of a husband, he simply sighs, awaiting your precious, slightly-waddling figure making towards them from the elevator.
Ah, right. 
The waddle.
Oh if it doesn’t make his heart soar.
You’re almost surreal, with your soft, rounded frame and sweet, sweet eyes making him simply want to keep you in a hug forever.
From beside him, Hyunjin starts into a sing-song cacophony of: “The Mrs.’s is here” in tandem with your entrance, resulting in Chris’s light smack to his friend’s shoulder and the reddening of his ears as he both tries (and fails) to focus on new tracks.
So now, in occupying the couch behind him with Han on one side and Felix on your other, you spend your time giggling over videos on the freckled blond’s phone, chowing down on a bag of potato chips placed between you and Han, entertaining light conversation with Changbin, and sharing those momentary glances with your husband.
Quiet looks, with his face drained from the workload not failing to light up where he meets your eyes, your own warming happily. 
“Come home,” does your eyes speak.
“Just a little longer,” he replies without words.
 As the day stretches it’s exhaustion, waning a warm hue into evening sunset, Chris pads over, slow and wary where your sleepy form props upon the couch, fuzzy-sock-clad feet elevated on a pillow courtesy of Hyunjin’s matter-a-fact scolding to lower the swelling.
“I’m letting the little one listen,” He whispers, this squeaky, cheery giggle leaving his lips where he places the headphones once in hand overtop your belly, the low hum of their newest, unreleased track faintly resounding against the skin you can’t help but grin at.
It’s a scary thing, you think for a moment.
And then, just happy.
So you’ll cling to that happiness, no matter how fleeting. 
And a tiny nudge against the skin, a kick, tells you someone else is clinging to that happiness as well.
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“Yah.. even if it’s almost spring, there’s still some breeze! Stay warm! Don’t try being a spring chicken!” Clicking his tongue in softened contempt, Han claps his hands resolutely, face scrunched up in conviction as the ever-adorable maknae, Jeongin, eases his jacket over your shoulders.
Resulting in the group’s ace’s squeal of affection and a harsh smack to Minho’s thigh, the older of the two fixes him with a glare Han fails to notice through his cooing, too busy admiring the bump peeking through the jacket.
It seems Chris isn’t the only one growing into a worried mess, and your trip home from the studio you press to take alone is filled with their hollering and well-wishes, the group having opted out for drinks knowing you’d be the odd one out with your mug of water relative to the bubbling of a beer, a matter you find heart-warming.
No less, you spend your night anticipating the arrival of a very sleepy Chris, busying yourself trying to follow a recipe without gagging at the most random of things.
Feebly managing through placing the tray in the oven, you deflate as a pair of long-awaited, warm arms come wrapping around you.
A mere lift from his hands, holding the weight of a nearly 30-week bump feels heavenly, and you simply groan, head lolling back against his shoulder, welcoming the kisses pressed to your cheek, neck.
Because as much as his own nerves are afire, Chris knows more than anything it’s pivotal for you to be taken care of as well. Making breakfast before heading out in the mornings, sending you little texts to remind you to stay hydrated.
Tiny things you hold close to your being, even if he isn’t aware.
Thank you, spoken amidst his subtle care.
I know, I love you, answered upon joining you in your nightly skincare.
“Ah? Really?”
Chatter after chatter fills the small bathroom, your spare bedroom already ransacked of its contents in making room for a nursery.
As for the conversation at hand, Chris fills you in on his dango pudding obsession while you busy yourself in applying moisturizer to his skin, a silly, matching headband to yours pulling back the hair from his face.
“Jisung got me hooked on it,” He grumbles, lashes fluttering down to fondly watch where you press a kiss to his lips before applying vaseline there, his fingers instinctively reaching for your pajamas like a clingy child.
You don’t mind.
“How’re you feeling?” He murmurs after a moment, head tipped quizzically, the slight knit of his brows in concern you wish to scowl at.
Sometimes it’s harder not swooning when it comes to your husband.
“You know me,” You start, scorning your ability to hear each thump of your heart in your chest within the quietness of the room. “I’m okay, yeah? The fatigue is just a pain, that’s all.”
His arms finding purchase on either side of the bathroom counter where he cages you in, you’re quickly reminded how this pregnancy came to be the longer you stare at his biceps, the veins littering upwards from his hands.
Not fair.
“You tell me, hm? If you need me to work from home more days, yeah? I will, you know that, honey.”
And of course he’s like some sort of forbidden fruit, so sweetly wholesome, sweet generally, when he looks so good. 
Too good.
For a time again, not fair.
“Chris.”
Screw it. You’re pregnant, and rightfully hot and bothered.
A little thing about pregnancy that no one had bothered to let you in on? There’s never been a greater time in your life that you’ve felt this horny.
Plus, an okay from the doctor is an okay to you. 
The other okay is his arms, and the utterly obscene things running through your head just looking at them as your hand finds his jaw to hold.
“I’d cry from how good you are to me if it weren’t for the fact I’m unbelievably worked up right now.”
Slowly do your arms loop around his shoulders, pulling him closer where a smile tugs at your lips, watching his own lips part in a shaky exhale, pupils dilating tenfold as your words sink in.
And it’s Chris’ turn in reminding himself how the pregnancy came to be.
“So let’s do something about it, hm?”
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The press of his nose into your neck causes your lashes to flutter, cursing the streaks of sunlight peering through the blinds muddling already bleary vision. A warm grip beckons you closer snuggled against his bare chest, hands instinctively coming to soothe over your belly.
Habitual touch, comfort.
A dream, last night had been. As for now, you bathe in the afterglow, his scent enveloping you like an embrace you can’t bring yourself to pull away from.
“Think I’ll be a good dad?”
And then comes the quiet conversation. Soft and nearly inaudible, his breath tickling your shoulder.
“I know you will,” Comes your own reply, muffled against the pillow, a kiss pressing to your shoulder in appreciation.
“I just-“
He takes a breath, weighing the thought. 
It’s a coarse silence, one you know not to interrupt. He considers his words like this, a characteristic you’ve come to adore over the years. The blinking fast, the hesitant humming.
“You know how much I look up to my Dad, and I worry I just- I won’t live up to tha—“
Now it’s your turn to step in, before he goes over his head and blames himself again and again for a matter never his responsibility. The selfless one, who you remind must take care of himself too. 
Amid simple kisses or compliments scribbled on sticky notes, you find love between the lines.
“Chris. Chris, baby, listen to me. This baby loves you, I hope you know that. And I hope you know that I love you, and whatever happens next happens next.”
Inhaling slowly, you roll over to face your husband.
Covers drawn up to see only his eyes, it’s near foolish the smile you let on.
“You said it yourself, we’re in this together, okay? If we change, we change together. We move? We move together.”
His fervent nod, dearest eyes gleaming all watery make your heart clench.
“This is our first time being parents, you can’t expect to be perfect, yeah? All we can do is try,”
Careful hands come to cup his face, kissing his lips through the fabric of the bedsheets.
“And you’re trying so hard, so thank you. I don’t feel like I praise you enough for all that you do for me, hm?”
He’s quiet before soft, heart wrenching sniffles are heard, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand and grumbling to himself like a toddler.
“I feel like.. such an idiot.. crying when you’re the one carrying the baby.. hic.. Plus ‘s my.. my job to take care of you, yeah? ‘M your husband..”
Gently smoothing along his waterline in hushed reassurance does the man pull himself upward, slow to climb atop your form, littering your face in feverish pecks you can’t help but laugh at while the heels of your palms gently push at his jaw in playful aversion.
“I’m gonna make some breakfast,” He noses at your chin, the only sound between the both of you slow breaths and the occasional sniffle, the heat of his skin burning through you like wildfire. 
Chris has become a warm blanket for your cold winter, even more so during the pregnancy.
“And you are going to eat eggs.”
In which earns your groan, regarding the food scornfully for its rude manner of sparking nausea. Of the many things nauseating you these days. Volatile in manner.
“‘S good for the baby. ‘Just a bite.”
Another groan, swatting lightly at his shoulder in retaliation.
Prior to an ingenious idea breaching the forefront of your mind.
A tiny detail you’d been holding in, with your lack of fondness for an extravagant baby shower or a gender reveal, you’d planned a morning-in to be the perfect timing for an announcement.
Now coming to be this morning.
Because while Chris had been running to the car, you’d been in the thick of a sonogram all those weeks back, a dirty little secret having been told that the nurse swore to keep quiet.
“Chris.”
Eyebrows lifting in gentle curiosity, you want to hate the way your mischievous streak is melting, the stubbornness fading into your own glossy eyes and trembling lips, and a whole rush of distress and concern washes overtop the man above you like a bucket of ice cold water.
“It’s a girl.”
A sharp gasp, a choked sniffle.
“We’re having a baby girl.”
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To say Chris cried like a baby for an additional time that morning would be a mass understatement.
Cried and cried and cried endlessly, before calling his parents first and crying more, then Hannah, then the guys.
Face all puffy and happy, you spent your day waltzing around the kitchen to the low buzz of the radio seated upon the far corner of your counter, sharing kisses he can’t seem to get enough of and too much smiling it made your cheeks ache.
.
.
.
Currently thirty-six weeks and perilously close to the awaited due date, the faint clatter in your periphery earns a startled huff of air, once-napping eyes flickering open, lids heavy from past slumbering.
A common occurrence, the constant sleeping, fatigue overboard. Although morning sickness has graciously subsided, the sleepiness is endless in her torrents.
As for now, each slow lull of the rocking chair the guys had assembled a few minutes prior continues her magic in beckoning you sleepy and sleepier.
“Shh dumbass— you’re gonna wake her up!”
And… beckons whisper-screaming from the group who had insisted upon helping set up the nursery. 
“Don’t curse in front of the baby!”
Han and Felix’s grumbled argument is returned with a scolding “Shh!” from Seungmin, inducing yet another—however brisk—silence, the faint hint of a chortle from your husband falling upon near deafened ears while drifting in and out of consciousness.
Nonetheless, the group continues to build, having now moved onto assembling furniture after the room’s paint had been finished. A mellow pink, not too muted nor saturated, highlighted when the room grows aglow with drifting rays of sunlight.
Hitched just to the right of the window, the crib’s being assembled, Changbin arduously working to follow directions, Minho taking a break on one of the couch cushions with a popsicle lodged between his lips.
Surprising, considering the slow shift in temperature. Autumn makes its entrance, summer waving a goodbye hand in the now-shorter days and a subtle breeze detected in early mornings. 
A September baby, it seems.
“Corner guards? Do we have corner guards?”
An ever organized (and rather caffeine-frenzied) Hyunjin reviews the list once more, having spent his night prior holed up in the studio for recording, obstinate in participating in the nursery despite the ushers to get some sleep instead.
“I have to be here, it’s my duty as an Uncle”, were his exact words, haughtily prancing about as if some entitled interior designer.
And yet he brought alive an enthusiasm like no other. So the guys let him stay without dragging him back home.
In the distance, a low strum of a guitar echoes, Seungmin’s soulful cadence recognizable amidst any crowd.
A lullaby for the baby, but you had yet to know of that just yet.
“Alright… curtains.. ‘gotcha…” Felix mumbles after taking a break from the crib-squabble between Han, his brows furrowed in concentration where Jeongin aids in lifting the canopy portion planning to hang above the crib, Chris organizing the small things. 
A baby mobile with stars and little planets, a crescent moon rug.
And a tiny feature you take note of while awakening more and more, the little stars painted on the ceiling, like this miniature galaxy. 
It’s so…Chris.
It’s perfect.
The thought makes your lips tug upward, a certain fondness blossoming there.
His world, he’d called the baby.
Fitting, isn’t it?
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One week to the due date with the autumn equinox around the corner, your days slip together in a melody of fluffy jackets and fuzzy socks, warm cider Chris ushers instead of coffee—“for the baby”, he says, but begrudgingly fixes you a menial cup after the cocked brow you fix him with. 
A baby-bag is packed up for the awaited day of your delivery, and this journey of yours drawing to a close leads to an even more frazzled husband of yours.
Constantly peeking in on you, his lips parted without a question needing to be asked until the bathroom door is slammed in his face after peering in worriedly for a fourth time, earning a squeaky: “sorry!” in reply.
You love him, yes, but not enough to allow a spectator during your bowel movements.
The gesture is appreciated, trust.
Nevertheless, with a now-evident waddle you despise that Chris utterly fawns over, you head to the downtown bakery, motivated by your relentless craving for a cinnamon roll and the feeble determination in battling the dropping temperatures, Seoul’s seasonal shifts as intermittent as your mood swings.
“Two?” You mumble, index extended to the steaming cinnamon rolls in thought, currently using the coat-clad Chris behind you as support, his warm hands steadying your hips, gentle thumbs tracing circles along your sides over his jacket you’d donned.
Nodding into your hair, the man weighs his chin atop your head, granting the kind older woman working the register a small smile, her eyes flickering to the prominent bump fondly prior to fetching the highly-anticipated cinnamon rolls and inquiring how many weeks you were.
“Thirty-nine weeks,” Came the reply, giggling like children on the way home, cheeks flushed pink from bitter winds, sniffling in with each bite of the napkin-held pastry.
“Yah! I should’ve said I wasn’t pregnant and acted all offended, shoot!”
The words followed by a feigned tantrum, Chris has to hold in his laughter, snorting futilely.
“You’re cruel, y’know that?” Scoffing his exasperation does your husband continue to crack even crueler jokes than that of yours on the walk home, acting as an anchor to your aching bones and tirelessly pained back until the sink of the couch cushions beneath your frame serve as the perfect solace.
It’d been the blueprint for an ideal night in. Cinnamon roll long-since digested, a to-die-for massage provided by your husband, and the expectation of doing purely nothing for the remainder of your night.
Until the blueprint went awry upon brushing your teeth.
Curse that damn toothbrush.
Kidding.
“Channie.”
Between Chris, Channie, and terms of endearment, your husband could be an ex-convict with so many names.
Yet he responds to every and all, and at this very moment you’re more grateful than ever for that.
This time, his peeking-in is greatly appreciated.
“I either peed myself or my water just broke.”
It was meant to hopefully lighten the atmosphere, but your efforts prove feeble watching the color drain from his face, white as a sheet.
And just like that, the journey came to its close, in a finale neither of you were expecting, but one your husband confronted head on, trying his hardest in keeping both himself and you calm while loading up all the prepared things.
Baby bag, your printed out birth-plan discussed all those weeks ago while sharing a bath, extra clothes, nursing bras, all the required cards, and a billion other things Chris doesn’t even bother to search for in helping you into the car, reminding himself he could ask someone else to drop by or pick it up after.
Right now, you would remain his sole focus.
That, and the little one who’s decided to make her grand entrance a week from his birthday.
An early present, it seems.
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Everything’s too fast, too hurried. The beeping of machinery, hurrying nurses in their scrubs, the nauseating scent of antiseptic overwhelming the hospital. 
You and the baby, you and the baby, you and the baby.
Those four words run rampant in his mind, like some sadistic form of tunnel vision.
Luckily swift in their efforts, you’d been wheeled off to the nicest room available, your husband blind to the price of anything at the moment where he follows you back, guiding each sharp gasp while you work through hellish contractions, squeezing his hand like a vice he vows to never let go of.
Though initially as smooth as a delivery could go, the process is seemingly endless, and Chris curses the exhaustion wracking his frame after the eighth hour stretches on, menial complications requiring moments longer to the already strain-inducing process. 
And of course, to the words he’d never heard you utter before.
“You FUCKER!”
In which earns your jittery-husbands wobbly smile, smoothing strands of hair where they stick to a sweaty forehead, whispering praises on autopilot.
At this rate, he can’t even tell who you’re referring to, but that thought lies in the very back of his mind.
“When I- shit- get out of here I expect to be- FUCK!— worshiped- ‘cause this hurts like a bitch!”
This earns the midwives equally exhausted smiles, working tirelessly with each push. 
By the ninth hour, you shakily assure him to go get a drink, take a walk, a matter he curses beneath his breath yet follows through with no less, legs like jelly, hand aching from your crushing-hold where your husband slumps into the chair opposite to the vending machine, caught in a weary daze. 
Then a hand finds itself on his shoulder he has to stave back the reflex to flinch from, and an out-of-breath Minho stands there—unfamiliar in the utter seriousness of his expression, the lack of teasing usually exhibited—alternatively familiar faces of his friends jogging after the second eldest. 
His first surprise of the night.
Of two, but the second surprise had yet to occur.
“We took the closest taxi,” Jisung manages, out of breath. “You.. You said there was complicat-“
Like a deer in headlights, the shrill wail of a baby rings out, gathering his full attention in split seconds. 
And somehow, he knows that’s his.
Yours, together.
Chris’s second surprise.
His heart stops.
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In all his life, Christopher Bahng doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so pretty.
With seven curious faces peeping in from the doorway behind him, he takes slow steps in approaching you, ethereal with your breathlessly proud smile and the tiny, swaddled thing to your frame, comfy and cozy in their mother’s scent.
Pink blankets. 
And although he already knew it was a girl, the way he chokes up without a word being spoken earns both yours and the nurse’s laughter, tainting his ears a reddened shade of embarrassment.
“I’m so proud of you,” He murmurs, wiping tenderly at tear streaks littering those darling cheeks of yours. “So, so proud.”
An angel, he swears, pressing a long, slow kiss to your lips, then a small peck to your forehead. It appears the wailing fit had subsided, and as for now, this precious little one curls up to your chest.
His baby.
A sob wracks his chest, and in the distance a giggle (likely Minho) is faintly audible that Chris doesn’t even bother scolding, each and every feeling imaginable snuffed to nothing when those eyes pinch open.
Chocolate brown, just like her daddy’s. That perfect, so, so perfect honeyed hue.
Precious.
“She’s.. hic.. so beautiful..”
It’s downright pitiful the manner he cries, like a child, trembling hands reaching for her after your whispered assent, assurance, cradling the baby to his chest.
And remarkably enough, she smiles.
This gummy, delighted smile.
Right then and there, the gravity of the moment punctures his chest, and a silent vow is made that with everything in his being, he will protect her. His daughter.
“Your Daddy loves you.”
Barely heard yet understood all the same, an oh so careful kiss is pressed to those unruly curls, unbelievable in their resemblance to her father’s.
A splitting image, with your charming nose and his puffy lips.
You were right. That time at the grocery store.
Oh to adore.
His second world, who he’ll clap for all cheerfully upon her first steps, her first words, all of it. Through the good and the bad times and everything in between.
His second world, with a father who already loves her, unconditionally. 
And who knows he will for the rest of his life.
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Ensuring you’re cared for those four days before discharge, Chris spends his time easing you through each painful endeavor, helping you through the saddened and elated moments, those private moments where all you wish for is to be held.
He holds you, for as long as you need.
Despite the challenges and hardships to come, the man can’t help but think of just how beautiful you are. With your stretch marks, the baby weight, the things you hate, the things he loves. Reflecting how hard you worked, bringing this precious baby girl into the world.
It’s impossible for you to be anything but breathtaking.
His wife, he mumbles into your hair, a habit of his, whilst swaying you from side to side in slow rhythm, the little one fast asleep in her bassinet.
The first night home with the baby, Minho’s already taken to the kitchen, preparing dinner regardless of your sleepy beckoning for him to head home where you stand by the doorway, awakened by the unusual silence where your little girl’s normal squeals would be ricocheting off the walls. 
It seems the Uncles are already smitten.
Fuzzy sock-clad feet thump to your next destination: the nursery.
And there lies your greatest loves, with Chris’s steps weighing side to side just as he’d always do when dancing with you, a bottle in hand held to her lips where she sleepily suckles, a smile of adoration tugging at his lips opposing the circles beneath his eyes.
You don’t think you’ve ever been so enamored before.
And just as that evening in building the nursery, Seungmin’s quietly composed lullaby drifts from the speaker on the changing table, its lyrics like that of the sweetest hymn.
‘My little girl, will you ever know how much I love you?’
‘As much as the stars in the sky, and the grains of sand on the beach.’
‘You are my universe, and I shall love you.’
‘Love, love, love.’
‘For eternity longer.’
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sunboki, may 2022 ©
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