#no but seriously though this would be fun as hell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

personasintro · 14 days

Text

Mutual Help | 59

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, explicit content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 18.5k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

Sometimes you decide on things by feelings or whatever seems right at that moment.

You might've suggested something that has bit you in the ass right back. It didn't feel as satisfactory as it perhaps should have when you hinted on meeting new people. Although, it's a great opportunity for both of you to move on, even though just the thought alone leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

Not even the alcohol on it tastes as bitter.

Regardless of what kind of opportunity it turned out to be, you had to do it. You're slowly losing it and being in Jungkook's presence alone is not helping.

A jealous kind of person is not what you would describe yourself. When the word jealous comes to one's mind, they think of someone being possessive jealous in the worst kind of way. You might've been possessive about people around you, but in a healthy way.

Sure, the thing with Ester is not the greatest example of it, but that was something different.

There's something building up, something you haven't experienced with Jungkook before. You were jealous in the friendliest possible way. You don't want to dwell on it more than necessary, but with Ester, you were scared of her becoming Jungkook's close friend. It sounds terrible this way, perhaps a little toxic too – it's hard to describe and put it into the right words so one could understand it clearly. There are parts where even you don't understand it.

You're confident about what you and he have. From the moment you met to the point where your friendship is at. Even that is a bit debatable, but you don't want to go there. Not right now. And possibly not in the near future. There are certain things you don't want to think about.

Ones you're scared of.

Still. Seeing Jungkook having another friend who he genuinely gets along with, in a meaningful way caused you to act on the void you felt.

But jealousy is a human emotion nevertheless. And you totally hate it at the moment.

Because there's no Ester or any possible special friendships to be made. This is different.

Why the fuck you hate staring at Jungkook and Nara. That's what she's named and introduced herself as when she happily sat behind Jungkook, holding his waist as he drove them through the small waves on a jet ski.

Clearly, sharing a meaningful connection called friendship is not on top of her list. She's smiling the entire time they talk about whatever, even though it's the most casual topic. She's not the typical giggling type that smiles to whatever that's being said just to flirt. She seems genuinely interested in Jungkook. Maybe a little bit too much.

Okay, definitely.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You tap your fingers on the table, sun setting down as you watch Jungkook and Nara taking a fucking walk along the beach. You hate that after three drinks, you still have your stomach crumbled and twisted around.

There's no reason for you to be mad at Jungkook. You told him to meet people. You freaking hinted about him trying to get it on with other people. Okay, maybe you're irritated he took it seriously and clearly goes for it a little too soon. You also told him you'll be fine here while they go on a walk alone.

“So it's just you two here?” Gabriel asks next to you, catching your attention for the hundredth time in the past three hours. Yes, that's how long you've been spending your time with them.

They're fun and friendly. Nothing bad about them. Clearly young people who want to have fun. They're relaxed, fun and outgoing.

So why the hell would you rather have Min Yoongi here than having to witness all of this?

Mentally shaking your head at your ridiculous thoughts, you turn to Gabriel and tear your eyes off those two. You give him a stare that tells him enough about your suspicion by that sudden question.

“Relax, I'm just asking.”

“And I should believe you because?” you question him. You might've appeared slightly cold toward him. You're not sure if his friendliness wants to aim somewhere else and to something more, or he's just that outgoing.

Clearly, he doesn't want to back away because he's been very persistent. You give him that.

There's a slight spark between the tug and pull game. But it's not the one you're looking for.

“Because I'm telling the truth.”

There's chatter and laughter going from the other people you've been introduced to. You don't remember all of their names though. You hope you won't have to see them after this. God, that sounded so harsh. They're nice, you swear! But!

They don't give you any attention which makes your conversation slightly more comfortable.

“You're still a stranger. How do I know you're telling me the truth?”

“So just believe me–”

“That literally goes against–”

He laughs. He's handsome. Has a sharp jawline and a cute smile. “You're a piece of work.”

“I know. I'm amazing.”

He can't seem to drop his eyes off you. You've experienced those before. Which is why you're not sure if he's honest about that or if it's the trick of flirting with you. It seems like men always have some kind of ulterior motive behind their behavior.

You don't hate men. Even if it looks like it. You just don't trust them.

Unless they are Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung.

Surprisingly, at least Gabriel doesn't annoy you in the Min Yoongi type of way. He's nice, not pushy and annoying which you appreciate.

You glance at him fully, both of you chuckling at your ridiculous conversation.

There's a deeper meaning behind his question. For the first time, he showed more of his prying persona. You can't blame him. It was bound for people to question it. You've grown used to it.

“Yes, it's just me and Jungkook.”

He nods, already knowing this but traces his glass. He had one beer an hour ago and after that one, he switched to lemonades. Somehow, you find that a little attractive.

“Our friends were supposed to go with us, but it didn't work for them unfortunately.”

He already knows you're staying at one of the beach houses, which to their expressions, they were a bit surprised to hear that. It's a more expensive side of the beach and while they're staying nearby, it might sound suggestive that you two alone are where families and lovers mostly stay.

“Didn't work how? What if it's their way to get you together alone?”

His question has a light tone full of teasing and suggestion, knowing exactly where this is going. He's trying to figure out your relationship with Jungkook, probably not believing two best friends that are on a vacation are only that. Friends. Well, that's quite debatable in all ways but you're not exactly going to share a full depth of anything related to your actual relationship to Jungkook.

Gabriel doesn't give you any vibes of being a snitch, but he's still a stranger. A handsome one but not even his pretty face could make you spill the tea. Anyway, he's definitely not asking because he's skeptical but mostly asking for himself.

You would've had to be blind and dumb not to notice his undeniable attention and interest aimed toward you. It's flattering and a compliment, really. More than anything else.

“Well, one of them ended up in a hospital with broken toes, so I would like to think he didn't do it on purpose.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly,” you deadpan, sipping more of your drink.

He grins. He has a cocky twist to his smile. There's no denying he's a catch wherever he travels.

“Even though, you never know with him.” you say, watching Gabriel's confused look before you shrug and chuckle under your breath.

Taehyung loves himself too much to hurt himself. No matter how much he would love you and Jungkook messing around more.

Speaking of him, you glance back at the couple walking down the beach. There's nothing special or weird about it. They're just walking beside each other, there's even some distance between them now. Is Jungkook listening to your previous words and just trying to – you don't even know how to name it.

Is he trying to get to know someone else in hopes of getting more?

Is he planning to hook up with anyone from this group?

Because he totally could and there would be nothing you would do about it. But why should you in the first place? It should not bother you. You should be in the front row hyping him up to do it. You should smack his shoulder and tell him to go for it, like all the guys do.

So why can't you?

You believe it's because you've never experienced anything similar to what you have with Jungkook. Obviously, he's more than the sex God you've portrayed him as in your head. He's definitely more than that. But speaking just about that alone, the thought of him going for someone else and showing that side of him to some stranger he just met, honestly bothers you. It's too soon. And you know if you weren't too thoughtful, you wouldn't be in this position because you would've kept hooking up.

You wouldn't have to worry about him suddenly having sex with someone else. He would never do that when he's intimate with you.

Fuck. Why are you even thinking of all of this?

You did what was best for you and him. At the end of the day, it's just a matter of time before something like this happens. And you know it will and you're going to be okay with it. You will move on.

But perhaps you rushed into it. You've panicked and indirectly told him to just have fun. Without you. In that exact sense you're thinking of.

He's smart. Of course he caught onto the meaning right away and something tells you he's doing exactly that. You can't even be mad at him because you told him. You were the one who encouraged and pushed him to move on.

“I didn't mean to pry,” Gabriel speaks up, reminding you of his presence and your cheeks heat up even more under the sun that's barely up there.

You try to cover up your staring by looking at the sea before finally looking at him. He couldn't see the exact direction of your vision, but he could've guessed because they're right there.

“I just find it interesting.”

“Interesting?” You frown in confusion.

“You two.”

“What's so interesting about two best friends? Because one is a female and the other male?”

His brows shoot up, catching up onto your slightly offended tone. “I didn't mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

He hesitates, but your lifted brow that demands a response causes him to lick his lips as he sighs. “You've been checking him a few times now.”

You grit your teeth together. Not because you're offended that he indeed noticed, but you're embarrassed that he did.

“I've been checking on my best friend.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, trying to play it off as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn't really trying to suggest something else. I just noticed that your friendship seems… special.”

“And it is.”

He nods, wrapping his hand around the drink as he picks up on the small droplets. “Nara won't bite his head off. She's cool.”

“I wasn't suggesting anything else.” You throw his words back at him. He notices, the left corner of his lips twisting in a smirk but he doesn't say anything about it.

“Would your friend bite my head off though?”

You arch your brow at him, “And why would he do that?”

“I don't know, maybe for trying to get to know you?”

“You're getting to know me.” you point out, knowing what he's hinting at but you're playing it off. An amusement dances in your eyes and he sees it, his smirk only getting bigger but the determination of getting straight with you is even bigger.

“I am.” he hums.

“Well, I can't promise anything. Jungkook is protective.”

“Surely he would understand I don't have any vile intentions. I mean, you're single, right?”

You gulp, stopping for a moment. You could possibly make some kind of situation. You're single but you weren't exactly free and down to meeting someone else. For multiple reasons. You could tell him you just got out of… relationship that had nothing to do with dating. Simply said, you could tell him you had a fuck buddy and now you're just focusing on yourself.

But considering your previous topic, he could easily catch on and for some reason, you don't want to risk it. You don't want any strangers knowing about you and Jungkook. It seems awfully personal and intimate.

“I am.” you mutter.

“So? He can't chase all men away from you.”

And he probably won't.

“I don't know… he did punch a guy for me.”

“What?” he deadpans.

You chuckle, “He was my ex. Said some nasty stuff. Kook didn't like it.”

“So he… punched him?”

“Mhm,” You take another sip. “He did deserve it though.”

“I would never say nasty stuff about you. Or any woman.”

What are you supposed to do with that information?

“Never say never.” you shrug.

“No, I mean it. I wasn't raised like that.”

“I don't think he was either. But sometimes we don't know ourselves. And sometimes we can surprise ourselves too.”

“I get that, but if your friend had to punch him for it, he obviously wasn't good.”

You look at your drink that's slowly disappearing. You should slow down. “He's not a bad guy.”

“Doesn't sound like it.”

You roll your eyes, “You've got an answer for everything, don't you?”

“You seem to be just the same way.” he points out.

“You've known me for a few hours, Gabriel. I could be a total bitch or a completely different person than you've made up in your head.”

“And that's why I would like to know you more.”

You stare at him.

Having to be in similar situations a few times, this time feels slightly different. Even though he's determined, he's not annoyingly pushy. He's good looking and has something in him that makes you flattered that he's not backing down. Showing a clear interest in you is not something you would gag at or roll your eyes like you usually would have.

“So if I wanted to invite you for dinner, lunch… whatever you want it to be, would you go?”

“Are you asking me on a date, stranger?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I'm asking to hang with you and get to know you.”

“Umm, isn't that the definition of a date?”

“Could be,” he shrugs, “But I'm from Italy and you live on the opposite side of the world.”

“Exactly.” you point out.

“Oh come on, just say no if you don't want to.”

“Are you looking for a hook-up, Gabriel?” you question him, not wanting to beat around the bush. Somehow, you know he's honest but you have a hard time believing he's just interested in getting to know you.

Why?

Like he said. You live in different countries and both of you don't look like the type to have a long-distance relationship.

He starts coughing, taken back by your sudden straight-forwardness before he laughs, finding some amusement in it. “If you want to.”

“Is that why you want to get to know me?”

“No.”

You look at him skeptically, “I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe.”

“Then I'm disappointed by the man you've encountered.”

“Hey, I have amazing men around me.”

Two of them probably broke more hearts than any of these people in this group, but they're amazing men regardless of it. It's the fact they never did it intentionally. And Jungkook is the definition of a perfect guy. Perfect in terms of loving and thoughtful person who would give everything to his loved ones.

“Never said you don't. You love your friends very much, don't you?”

That goes without a question. He sees the look on your face and it causes him to smile. For some reason, he seems smitten by you. Of course he does, look at you. You're amazing.

“You could say they're my second family.”

Perhaps if they were actually here, things would've been a lot different. That goes without debate.

Taking in the silence that follows, you can't help but glance in the direction where Jungkook and Gabriel's friend are walking down the beach. However, they no longer are and instead you find him taking pictures of her. She makes poses, showing off her toned and tanned body. And then she walks up to him, clinging to his side as he shows her the results. She seems to be impressed, as far as you know, it's hard to see it clearly from this distance.

And it's for the better, honestly.

“Listen, it doesn't have to mean anything more. Just us hanging out over a good dinner… or a lunch.”

Gluing your eyes back to Gabriel, which seems to be the safer choice, your eyes run over his features as you take a breath – realizing your stiffened posture before you relax.

“I don't have any sick intentions.”

“You know… you constantly making sure I know that kinda makes it harder to believe you.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he smiles at his drink. Your teasing brings some peacefulness into this conversation again. “Just let me know your decision. Take your time.”

You give him a smirk, knowing you're kind of running out of time. Both of you know it and that's why you both grin at each other. Before any of you can say something, the approaching chatter interrupts you. Jungkook and Nara join you, she says something which makes Jungkook smile and that's when he looks up. Your eyes meet and you straighten yourself, ignoring the way your heart squeezes.

“What's up,” Gabriel says next to you, looking at Nara who seems to joyfully sit down and take a few sips of her drink.

“Got some nice shots. Jungkook here is pure talent. I'ma show you later.” she says, smiling at Jungkook at the compliments she's giving him.

The corner of his lips turn slowly up before he glances back at you. Looking away, you poke the back of your front teeth with your tongue.

“What's your plans for tomorrow? We were thinking of visiting the water park here. It's brand new and apparently very fun. You wanna join us?” Nara asks, reaching for a bowl of fruit that Gabriel has ordered. “Anyone?” she points at the bowl.

Everyone shakes their heads before her previous question still sits in the air. She glances between you and Jungkook, awaiting your answer.

Once again, you look at each other without saying anything.

“They probably have different plans, Nara.” Gabriel notes, shrugging.

Not wanting to let them know about the lingering tension that somehow remains between you two, you take matters into your hands and give Gabriel a smile. “We don't yet, not definite but we'll think of something.”

They seem to be settled with that before the conversation moves to something else. Somehow it seems unfinished and by the time you and Jungkook are alone, walking back to your beach house, the feeling intensifies.

“So what about tomorrow?”

Jungkook is the first one to speak up once you get inside, a few minutes spent in silence after both of you are finished with your shower. You cut strawberries for yourself you got at the market earlier this morning.

“I don't know. We don't have any clear plans, do we?” you hum.

“We could look around the Island. See what's up there and decide then.”

“Sounds good.”

Jungkook stands behind you, in a safe distance but you can feel his eyes burning your back. However, he doesn't make a sound before a silent sigh leaves his mouth.

“Then what?”

“What then?” you frown, focusing on your cutting as he walks up to you. He leans against the counter with his lower back, crossing his arms over his chest. Luckily, he has put a t-shirt on. One second staring at him topless and you would be done for.

He's staring at you. You know he is, yet your eyes stay glued to the cutboard while you're taking your time with cutting the strawberries more precisely than it's necessary. “The water park. You wanna go?”

You halt, pursing your lips slightly. “Do you?”

He sighs again, “I think it would be a nice plan if we feel like it after we're done with the sightseeing.”

You stay silent before he taunts;

“Don't you?”

Your jaw clenches, “I think you should go if you wanna go so badly.”

He laughs sarcastically, “What?”

Fuck. You and your mouth. Composing yourself, you shrug before you put down the knife. “Didn't they want to go during the day?”

“Nara told me they will probably go in the afternoon. The heat is supposed to be crazy tomorrow, it's better to go later in the day.”

Of course, she did. Anything so she could go with Jungkook.

While that little comment sounds bitter in your mind, you do know Nara wants him to go. And you should not feel angry or annoyed at it. Maybe that's not why you're annoyed at it at all. It's simple knowing that Jungkook wants to go.

So forcing yourself to smile, you get the courage to stare him in the eyes. “You go if you wanna. I've got plans in the afternoon.”

Silence. For a split second.

“What?”

Another follows and you wet your lips as you shrug. “I'm going out with Gabriel.”

Well, he doesn't know it yet. He's waiting but you're guessing he will be more than glad to skip the water park. If he doesn't, that's going to be incredibly embarrassing for you and your ego.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, looking away as he scoffs silently. But the overbearing silence makes it ten times louder. “I see.”

“Jungkook–”

“Is this how it's gonna be?”

You gulp, “What do you mean?”

“We came here to spend time together but we spend it separately? Is that how desperately you want me gone?”

“Jungkook!”

He lifts his hand up, the point finger up as he motions for you to be quiet. “I'm going for a walk.”

“You don't have to–”

You don't get to finish it, he brushes past you and is gone before you can take another breath.

One of the worst habits you possess is the need to spill out anything that bothers you to someone. That someone is in most cases Jungkook, purely because he gives the best advice and comfort to anyone who needs it. He never judges and he just… gets it. He's that person you come to and can tell him anything, somehow the words he says or his mere presence is helpful enough.

For clear reasons he's not available – nor would he be suitable since he's the main reason why you're bothered in the first place. You're the one who messed up. For a moment you wondered whether you should go after him, to talk it out like any healthy person would do. But once you got out of the door, he was nowhere and to be walking alone around the Island with no one by your side is not something you wish to risk. Even though it seems to be safe here, you know he wouldn't be happy if he came back and you weren't here.

Or maybe he wouldn't care.

You would like to think he would. It's still Jungkook. No matter how many times you fight or there's tension, it's still him. But it feels wrong to count on this all the time, even though it's basic knowledge.

Sure, you've got other friends.

You wouldn't want to include Maya here. Purely out of knowing what her response might be – you've got to be a little selfish here because you know that's not something you want to hear right now. Anyway, she's probably planning her wedding or spending time with Namjoon. It feels rather awkward to be reaching out just because you find yourself in trouble. By your own responsibility.

But right after Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung came.

Jimin is someone who gives you the hard truth, sometimes even scolds you but with the greatest intention. That's not something you need right now either way.

And Taehyung?

He makes everything look easy with the way he sees the world and particular problems. There is barely any problem in his world. He says fuck it on most things with his optimistic persona. He simply just doesn't care.

Therefore, he's the safer choice than Jimin.

Luckily, once you call him and he's alone, you briefly mention the issue here. You kept it safe for your own sake or selfishness. However, you didn't have to mention anything because he questioned Jungkook's absence right after he complained about Jimin and the fact he brings his girlfriend almost everywhere.

When even Taehyung is silent, you're glad you've chosen a phone call instead of a video one.

“So, let me get this straight… you go to Hawaii together but you're about to spend it separately?”

“Well–just tomorrow afternoon. I didn't think it's such a big deal.”

“But you purposely encouraged him to–I don't even know how to call it–go and find fun somewhere else?”

You gulp, regretting now that Taehyung's words bite you in the ass. He's right though. “We met this group of girls and–I didn't want him to focus on me only. I want him to have fun.”

Okay, that's half of the truth but it works. You did more for yourself than for Jungkook, naively believing that it will be better for him. But that backfired and it seems he doesn't feel like it's better for him.

“And didn't it get through your pretty head that maybe, just maybe, he wants to have fun with you?”

“Tae–” you sigh.

“Not that kind,” You can tell he has rolled his eyes. “He just wanted you two to have fun in there. I'm pretty sure he didn't think with his dick when he wanted you to go.”

“I didn't say that.”

“I know, I'm just saying.” he hums, “Maybe he feels rejected?”

“What? You think so?”

“I think Jungkook has had a lot planned for the two of you and he imagined he would spend it with you. Not with both of you having fun with someone else, instead with each other.”

“I thought it's better this way.” you mumble.

Silence follows and you're not sure whether Taehyung heard or not, but you hear his soft sigh on the other end. “You do your thing tomorrow and he will do his. Or just spend the afternoon the way you wanted, just with each other.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is.”

“Tae, we were invited. I was asked for lunch–or dinner–whatever.”

“So? Fuck anyone else,” There it is. “Anyway, is the girl hot?”

“What.”

Taehyung laughs, “The girl that so seemingly goes after our Jungkookie.”

“I never said she's going after him.”

“You didn't have to, babe. It's clearer than Jimin's questionable choice of a girlfriend.”

“You're being rude, leave Jimin and his girlfriend alone.”

He snorts, laughing as you join. “I would ask you to send me pictures of the girls, but I kinda don't want to. I would regret not being there.”

“Can you not think with your dick when your friend here is in crisis?” you mutter.

“You got yourself there, hun.”

“You're not helping.” you grit through your teeth, hearing him laugh.

“Look, just talk to him. You guys communicate well. Well–it's bumpy these days but you got it.”

“How's your leg?” you ask instead, listening to Taehyung's complaints while your mind is elsewhere.

When Jungkook doesn't come within an hour, you're seriously starting to get worried. He has left in a hurry, therefore has forgotten his phone that mockingly sits on one of the small tables. Even though he's a man, you're worried for his safety no matter how safe this Island seems to be.

Just as you're about to grab your things and go search for him, the door clicks open and there he is.

Head low and almost looking like a kicked puppy, you debate whether to jump on him to hug him or slap him for making you so worried. If the roles were reversed, there's no doubt that he would search the entire Island for you. And that's not exaggerating at all.

Yet, you stand there – waiting for him to look up and be stopped by the glare you're giving him across the room.

“Where the hell have you been?”

You're angry. More at yourself than anyone else, but him scaring the shit out of you comes handy at the moment.

You know that defeated look. You both hate fighting. It's crazy you've never been through such hard times in terms of fighting than you have in the past year. Sure, looking at it optimistically, you've learned to communicate better. Sometimes.

Not particularly now. And you know some of it is mostly your fault now.

Being honest means much more than just that.

However that once mentioned defeated look is long gone. As soon as that tone and words leave your mouth, he glares at you with those intense dark eyes.

It doesn't matter that you sound like a mother scolding his son for coming home late.

“I went for a walk.” he says calmly, but there's something on the tip of his tongue. And his face says it all. I told you that.

You scoff. Before anything else can be said, he simply walks past you and you watch at the spot he just stood at in complete disbelief.

“That's it?”

“What else do you want me to say?” he offers, giving you I don't give a fuck attitude as he plops on the couch and stretches his legs on top of the table.

He grabs his phone and scrolls down through his notifications. He must know he forgot it here. There's no way he doesn't know now. But there's no sight of realization or anything. He simply seems like he doesn't care.

Not about that and certainly not about you stomping to the room.

“Are you serious now?”

He looks up from his phone, moving only with his eyes and you're stunned for a second. He's waiting.

“If I stormed out like that, you would give me hell for it!” you scold him.

“I told you I went for a walk. We both needed to cool off.”

You fumble over your words and try to make sense of them.

His eyes say it all. It looks like you haven't.

“Yeah, without your phone and you were gone for an hour!”

You watch him stare at you for a moment, sighing as he tosses his phone on the couch. “I'm sorry.”

The surprise on your face is evident.

“I forgot it. Didn't realize I was gone for so long.”

Well, an hour isn't so long but yeah, it felt like it. Especially the way he left.

You relax, a soft puff of breath leaving your lips before you nibble onto them with your teeth. You come closer, your knee resting against the armrest.

“I will cancel on Gabriel.”

He frowns, almost confused why would you do that. For a split second you feel embarrassed.

“So we can spend more time together.” you elaborate further.

“You don't have to do that out of pity or whatever.” he points out.

This is stupid. You're stupid.

“I'm not doing it out of–”

“Besides, I have a few plans throughout our stay here. Starting from tomorrow.”

“What,” you deadpan, hating the weird pressure and intuition that rises every second until he proves it right.

“I arranged it with Nara.”

It's dead silence for a moment. You're letting the information sink in until you breathe out in even bigger disbelief.

“What,” It's quiet, almost painful before you glance at his phone. “Your phone stayed here.”

“Met her during my walk.”

Oh, and she so accidentally appeared right where you were, huh?

He's not looking at you, staring at nothing in particular with a distant gaze.

“So let me get this straight–” You hold yourself together so you don't burst in anger. “You make a scene for not spending this vacation together and now you just make plans throughout it without me?”

You realize it's mostly said from your point of view and you fucked up, but him accepting it is even more defeating than anything else about this.

“As far as I know, you made plans too. Isn't this a good way of meeting new people?”

He's throwing it back at you. Clenching your jaw, you painfully swallow as you nod. “I see,” you mock his words, “You're right.”

And you walk out of the room – not knowing whether you should strangle him or yourself first. Only time can tell.

It's safe to say that sometimes your intention escalates and creates a new wave of something that can hardly be described positively. A part of you blames yourself for opening your mouth, even though your own intention behind it was not wrong. It wasn't supposed to cause any of this.

Already embarrassing as it is, having to lay next to Jungkook throughout the entire night has been another level. You've been tossing around, wondering if he's doing the same whenever you fall asleep for a few minutes until you're awake again. Seems like he's not particularly doing bad, but once again, there's an argument between you that has been maybe talked about, but definitely not solved.

You stick to your plans that have been planned out for most of the day. You've gone sightseeing, fed rescued animals and even visited local museums. Basically, done activities where other people mostly talked and you both listened – you were just there. Standing next to each other, walking beside each other but if it wasn't for these facts, some might think you were strangers.

And that thought that randomly crossed your mind hurt.

But you're just as stubborn.

This is for the better. Sure, you should probably make a mend, it would definitely make things easier and better. But you will try to focus on other people as well. Being with Jungkook alone on this vacation – well, it's not like you have many opportunities to focus on anything else.

But that could change. And it can change.

It's for the best. You both got distracted. Preferably with each other.

So when the time comes, you both end up at the beach nearby the beach house you're staying at. However, this time it's for you to get separated and each go your own way. Gabriel's friends are already there, wearing their swimsuits and covering it with thin layers of clothing. And then there's Gabriel as well.

You texted him, agreeing to the dinner but proposed to meet sooner. The truth is, you couldn't be alone at the house knowing where Jungkook is. It would eat you alive to be alone with your thoughts of blame and regret.

You have no idea where you will be going, perhaps more sight-seeing but you hope Gabriel has something planned out at the last minute. Sight-seeing reminds you of Jungkook as well, since you've spent your entire morning until midday.

You have not spoken ever since you came back. You both showered and changed clothes, here you are. Perhaps you've spent more time on your make-up. Your skin is glowing, covering everything that is laying beneath much deeper.

Summer dress with slightly low cut cleavage felt like the right choice. It's perfect for day time, could be great for night time as well and most importantly, you're not trying to look overly hot. This dress is practical.

And you have no idea what's up with men and summer dresses because you feel like you attract men's eyes as soon as they can make out your figure. Gabriel is speechless, though he's grinning and doesn't fail to give you a compliment.

Before you know it, Jungkook and Gabriel's friends bid you two a goodbye. Well – mostly Gabriel's friends because Jungkook is awfully quiet and doesn't even spare you a glance as he chats with Nara.

Jaw clenched, you turn around and smile widely at Gabriel. “So what's the plan?”

“Mm, don't kill me but I thought we could get a snack or something, wait–have you eaten?”

“I have,”

During lunch time with Jungkook. No matter how intense it seems to be between you, he still made sure you've eaten something. It's hard to be mad at him. But one memory of what happened just seconds ago is enough to make your features harden, just like your heart does.

“Have you?”

“I have,” he answers, “Cool, we can go to that dinner I promised you.”

You give him a slight chuckle, both of you walking nowhere specific.

“But maybe we could go to the water park as well?”

“What,” you stop, chuckling nervously. The whole point of going out was not to be in Jungkook's presence. “The others just left.” You point behind you, pretty sure they are no longer there.

“I kinda hoped we would go there alone.”

You give him a look, causing him to grin as he shakes his head. “Nothing creepy, I swear. Is it bad that I want you all for myself?”

“You will give me creeps if you continue to speak to me like that.”

He grabs his chest, pretending it hurts there. “Ouch. Is it always so hard to charm you?”

You look away, shrugging. “Not always.”

At least you didn't lie.

Best way to distract yourself is to do something. Anything that can't help you from thinking, or even overthinking. You give Gabriel that. Even though he has no idea he indirectly helped you and made your day better, attractions are a good way to just enjoy the presence. You allow yourself and your mind to be present with him.

You laugh and nicely enough, Gabriel is sweet and keeps his hands to each other. He doesn't give you creepy vibes – you're not sure if you wanted him to. He's polite, gentleman and funny. Everything anyone would like to see in a guy you're spending time with.

You talk, filling almost every second and moment with words. And yet, still somewhere rooted inside you, you keep looking around, hoping you won't meet Jungkook. Possibly see something you don't want to. You want him to have fun.

But deep inside you feel like you've pushed him to do this. It's stupid. You proposed something. You never forced him to do anything. But just because it hasn't been done directly, doesn't mean the outcome is not the same.

And you do it again. So you go to the first attraction you see, the water ride. You take Gabriel's hand, pulling him towards it until you're seated and drenched in water. After you're done, you both laugh at each other's appearance.

“I wonder if they sell towels here.” Gabriel says, praising himself for wearing slippers instead of actual shoes. His shirt is drenched, showing some of his abs. But you're respectful, you're not looking.

“It's hot, we'll be dry in thirty minutes.” you laugh, squeezing more water from the rim of your dress. It falls down your legs.

“True–how about–”

“Gab? What are you guys doing here?”

Coming from the side, you both glance at the way where one of the girls walks with the entire group of Gabriel's friends behind her. Great.

All you hear is Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. He must be around here but you don't dare to let your eyes travel further.

“We wanted to try some of the attractions too.” Gabriel answers as if it's not a big deal.

Although he's met with some confused looks from his friends, they're not overly judgy and you get them. None of you mentioned going here before.

“You could've gone with us. Oh god, did you guys just go on this ride? We went there first, you should've seen us! Actually–Nara and Jungkook just went there like ten minutes ago and–” She starts looking behind her, pointing in that direction but she doesn't have to.

Your eyes naturally find him there. Walking, unbuttoned shirt that is drenched similarly to your dress. The difference is that you can see his skin, a few droplets here and there as the sun shines on his tanned skin.

“We did–I wanted Y/N for myself, is that so bad?”

And that's when Jungkook looks up, undoubtedly catching Gabriel's words and your stare as well. Seconds pass by and someone keeps talking, but you don't pay attention. Jungkook's eyes travel down your figure before a slight frown settles on his face.

Looking down, and you hate that you do, you follow his line of vision. The outline of your breasts is visible, nowhere near explicit to the point where anything is visibly clear, but even the slightest perks of your hardened nipples can be noticeable if one truly looks there. This dress doesn't require a bra, the material around that area is thick enough.

When you were picking this dress, you weren't counting on getting it wet by any means.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook stares directly at you this time. Something about his gaze is so intense that you're not sure whether you're naturally nervous or aroused. Fuck.

“We were just about to get frozen yogurt, you guys wanna join? We'll leave you alone, I promise.” Matt, one of their friends jokes, causing all of them to chuckle just to tease Gabriel.

Gabriel is not a shy person. He rolls his eyes playfully at them, ignoring them right after before he looks down at you. He's taller than you, not as tall as the man who stands across you and you feel his eyes on you. It burns.

“What do you say? Frozen yogurt?”

Frozen yogurt is the least of your worries right now. The right thing would be to refuse and come up with some kind of excuse, maybe trying the good old I wanna try more attractions. Just so you could finally escape the burning gaze that is ten times hotter than the sun above your heads.

But the annoyance that slowly simmers inside you, followed by Jungkook's unpleasant face, changes your mind. Lips stretching into a wide smile, making sure Jungkook sees it and hears you loud and clear.

“Sure, frozen yogurt sounds great.” Delightful, you want to say.

The others cheer, clearly happy to have Gabriel join them. You see Matt throwing his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, teasing him, undeniably about you as Gabriel shakes his head and with laughter pushes him away.

“You havin' fun?”

Jungkook walks next to you, looking ahead and not giving you one last glance. His jaw is clenched and you smile, amused and pleased even.

“Are you?”

“Wonderful,” he mutters.

“Good.”

Scoffing, you open your mouth but before any remark can make it out of your mouth, a woosh of coldness and pressure causes you to stop in your tracks. Most of it is blocked by Jungkook whom you manage to see turning his back, facing you while he shields you from the impact before your eyes are forced to shut.

The nearby attraction has splashed you, a few more people being a victim of it as they either laugh, curse or freeze in shock. Even your newfound friends who have managed to avoid the splash, gasp in surprise as they stare at the two of you.

You're fully drenched, every inch of you covered in water as you can feel it drip down your dress. So much for being dressed nicely.

“Oh my god, are you guys okay?” Gabriel asks, walking over to you.

Though you look up at Jungkook, who stares at you before his eyes drop down to your chest. You know his stare is not an act of lust, more of acknowledgment you should make. You don't have to look. You feel it.

Your arms cover your breasts, turning to Gabriel to respond to him. However before you're able to utter a single word, you feel a soft touch of hand over your lower back.

“We have to change clothes.”

“I saw a stand with some clothes where the kids' attractions are.” Nara tries to help, pointing in the left.

Jungkook ushers you to move before you can get drenched any more than you already are. Stupidly, you let him and you hate how you enjoy his hand on you. Maybe it has something to do with Nara watching.

There are no words said as soon as you distance yourselves from the rest of the group, leaving them up to their activities while there's a suffocating air surrounding you. The burning weather has nothing to do with it this time.

You watch Jungkook pick random shirts and shorts once you get to the stand. The older man who sells it tells you that this happens pretty much often, that's why there are a lot of towels and clothes for sale. Of course, it always has a Hawaiian theme or a water park one. You let Jungkook interact with the seller while you linger behind him, offering him a soft smile in return because that's all you can do.

“There is a changing room with a restroom around the corner. It's more to the side, so it's not much crowded, in case the lady needs more privacy.” he advises nicely.

Smiling one last time, Jungkook briefly nods as he follows the man's directions and leads you to the mentioned changing room.

He forgot to mention it's a single room. You can still hear screams and laugh from the side, but it's more isolated right now. You get inside, scanning the room. It's spacious. There are hangers on the wall, a basic bin and a sink. A huge mirror is spread across the one wall, the lighting is shitty though. The light bulb weirdly glitches but there is no weird smell in here. You hate public bathrooms, especially at water parks.

Surprisingly, there's not much water on the floor. The man was right. There are not many people who use this changing room. You've seen a couple of them when you were walking with Gabriel, but you haven't thought much about it. It sort of makes sense now.

The door clicks behind you, causing you to look across your shoulder. “Umm, where are you going?”

Jungkook looks up, brows frowning as he grows slightly offended by the question. “To change?”

His own question holds an attitude and you just stare in bewilderment for a moment. But when he doesn't move an inch, stubbornly standing his ground, you frown as well.

“Can't you wait?”

You scoff, almost laughing how childish this situation is. When Jungkook is mad, he can get slightly childish or let you feel all the nice things he does for people, until he stops it just to get petty. Not that you can't complain. You do the same things.

However, you use your mouth much more than he does. He's more subtle with it.

“I was here first.”

It's childish, you know it, yet you still point out when you're not sure how to react in the first place. Jungkook laughs under his breath.

“I wanna get out of these clothes as much as you do. Let's turn around and not look at each other.” he proposes, thinking that's the problem.

Little does he know you could care less if he sees you naked or whatever. You hate the way the water drips down his body, the ends of his hair picking up all the water until it slowly drops and it does the same thing seconds later. You hate how his tan body peeks through the opened button-up.

He's here. Yet it seems like he's never been further since you came to Hawaii.

All of this is stupid. You've been through much worse back home and you were able to make up.

But there's a lot of stubbornness and until you get there, you'll have to get through this somehow.

“You think that's the problem?” you question, seeing him giving you a confused look as he starts taking off his button-up.

He turns around to the sink, squeezing any water access he can from it. You don't move. You just shamelessly stare as he completely unbothered continues to do what he came here to do.

How dare he? Your self-consciousness mocks you.

“And what's the problem here exactly?”

He doesn't even spare you a glance, continuing to squeeze his completely scrunched up shirt.

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“I asked, didn't I?”

You scoff, ready to pounce on him. Not the good kind.

“There's a thing that's called space.”

The double meaning sits in the air, yet he doesn't look perplexed by it. For all you know, he doesn't even notice it as he bluntly continues his task. It pisses you off.

“There's enough space between us.” he simply says.

Your chest squeezes, causing you to purse your lips for a second as you breathe out. “You can't be serious right now.”

“I'm not even looking at you,” he scoffs, “I'll just change my clothes and I'm out of here. If you wanna just stand there and wait, you're free to do that.”

The audacity of this man is beyond the words. Is this how payback feels like?

“Oh, got it. You're eager to get out of here.” So you can get back to Nara, you want to add but decide not to. You would sound like a jealous bitch.

Somehow, Jungkook seems to get the hidden meaning behind it, almost as if he could hear your thoughts from out here. He chuckles, it's just the amused look he gives you that barely lasts a second, but it leaves you breathless and all exposed.

The dress clings to your skin, you want nothing more than to take it off. You don't dare to move though.

“May I remind you it's you who wanted me so eagerly to be out there?”

It's like you speak in riddles, yet you both know the exact meaning of them. You both don't dare to say it out loud.

Getting tired of it, but mostly letting out the anger that you mainly hold for yourself, but for the man in front of you as well, you take an angry inhale of breath.

“What exactly is it that you want, Y/N?” His voice rings loudly in your head, even though there's nothing loud about his tone.

Shakingly breathing out, you quietly point out; “You can't be fucking your best friend, Jungkook.”

The emphasis on your relationship is clear, though all Jungkook does is chuckle under his breath, scoffing. He throws his shirt into the sink, walking up to you. Your breath catches, though you can't almost anticipate once he's close to you. He stops, just centimeters from touching you. You can smell his faded cologne sticking to his skin and you almost crumble.

“What if I wanted to?”

“Jungkook–”

“You always make a decision without talking to me. It is yours, I respect it,” He stops for a brief moment. He stares your face up and down. “What exactly are you so scared of?”

And the fear comes rushing to you, mainly located in your chest as your hands flinch to squeeze it. You remain standing there, not being able to look him in the eyes. His eyes are on you, you feel every inch of them, the proximity they shine.

“This is ridiculous.” You try to move past him but he stops you.

“It is,” he agrees, “Is this about sex?”

“It's not just about that!” you argue, voice hushed and almost scandalized that you're having this conversation in public. You only hope there's no one standing outside, able to hear you.

You heard Jungkook locking the door, but still – there might be people waiting.

“I know you,” he says silently but clearly. “I know there's something going on inside that pretty head of yours that you're not telling me.”

“Stop.”

“Are you in love with me?”

You gasp, “What? No!” you push him, palms against his chest but he holds you by your wrist, amused by your sudden outburst.

“So why are you so adamant on pushing me away? All of a sudden, may I add?”

He's asking all the right questions and you despise it at the moment.

“You can't be fucking me forever, Jungkook. It must've ended at some point.”

“Oh–and you just decided on it without talking to me?” he scoffs, “You just randomly pushed me onto some random chick.”

“If I remember, you're willingly spending your free time with this random chick.”

He grins, though there's nothing genuine about it. It's fueled with cockiness.

You might realize there's more to Jungkook's reaction. You suddenly start to understand why he's maybe hurt by your sudden twist of emotions. While you never came out of the wrong place, at least your intentions never did, you might understand what his problem is.

He expected you to communicate with him about it. He might be right about that, but you also had your own reasons and yes, maybe you fucked up and it didn't go as planned, but you won't take the blame for all of it.

It's hard to focus on it though, especially when there's unspoken annoyance and anger dancing around you two.

“It was your suggestion.” he states matter-of-factly.

One, you regret.

He lets go of your wrists, but not before rubbing it softly with his thumbs. It's a minor detail, one you almost don't notice but it would be a total shame if you would.

“With a good intention.”

“And what's the intention?” he asks right away, tone slightly more defensive. “Huh?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out of it.

Exactly – Jungkook's face says it all.

“To push me away? Because you're too scared to communicate?”

Jungkook's annoyance comes mostly out of this. You've used to communicate and talk about everything. And that brings you to the point. Things have changed. There are minor details, perhaps even more minor than Jungkook's faint touch of affection he gave to your wrists just now. But in these kinds of situations you can perfectly see them.

Does he not see it?

“Fine,” you spit out, “You want me to communicate? I will.”

“About time!” he exclaims.

“I want you to meet new people. Be open to meeting new people.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he grimaces.

“You can't be open to meeting someone when you're fucking me the entire time!” you exclaim back, chest heaving as he looks taken back.

That's all gone as his brows furrow. “That's not your decision to make. When I'm ready to meet someone, I will.”

“That's not what I meant–”

“Really? Because that's all I could gather. If I wanted to be single for years, I easily could and that has nothing to do with you.”

Ouch.

“I know–”

“Do you?” he asks. “Because to me it seems like you don't get it. If you didn't wanna have sex with me so badly, you could've just easily called it off. For the hundredth time anyway.” he mocks the last part.

That's where you gasp and come up to him, invading his space. He doesn't seem to mind.

“But you wanted it, didn't you?”

He taunts you, even though you're in his face, looking angry as ever – he remains calm and has all the control.

“A part of you still wants it. That's why you can't see me with Nara–”

“That's not about her.”

“Is it not?”

“No. I told you to meet people. That's all I wanted, don't you remember?”

He scans you for a moment. “So we're at this point where we can fuck whoever we want?”

Fuck. You did not expect him to ask this. Nor did you expect to get to this point. You led him to it. You are the reason why he's asking this. You don't blame yourself for this, it's a simple fact. It will happen sooner or later.

So why the fuck there's an answer caught in your throat?

“Do you want that?” he continues. “I promised you we would go here as friends. No sex. Anything.”

Your throat feels dry, painfully dry that it even hurts to swallow. There's nowhere to escape. There's an imaginary spotlight set on you, Jungkook's determined gaze making up for it.

“We agreed to come here as friends.”

“That's not what I'm asking.” His response comes quickly.

He stares at you, searching your face for something unknown and you shift under his gaze, causing your own eyes to trail somewhere else. You can't hold eye contact. He waits. But when he doesn't get anything in return, he simply scoffs or chuckles under his breath – you can't tell – and takes a few steps away from you.

His shorts go next, he takes them off and tries to squeeze any excess water.

“I just wanted you to–I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to meet someone new. It wasn't supposed to come out as pushy or anything.” you murmur gently under your breath.

He stops for a brief moment, not moving. “How about talking to me next time, yeah?”

You nod, though you're not sure if he sees it. He's not even looking at you. Brows pinched in together, you watch him continue with his task.

“Noted.” You drop your head low.

“If you want to fuck someone else so badly, just tell me.”

“That's not–” Your reaction comes fast. Eyes wide and mouth open, you shake your head. “You think–”

“Don't you?” he almost accuses you.

“You think I–” You make air quotes with your fingers, “pushed Nara on you because I wanna fuck someone else?”

“I no longer know what I think.”

“If I wanted to do that, I would.” You assure him, comically using the same words he has used not that long ago. It's the truth.

“Good to know.”

“Good,” you exclaim. “I guess we can both agree that we're capable of doing what we want.”

“Are we?”

Your mouth slightly opens. “Huh?”

“Are we capable of doing what we want?”

The shorts join his scrunched up shirt in the sink, knowing Jungkook will wash the hell out of it once he gets back. He loves to do his laundry. But that's besides the point.

What matters is how Jungkook inches closer to you, his eyes eating you up and noticing you haven't shredded a single piece of clothing. You catch a glimpse of your face in the mirror. Your pupils wide, an expectation screaming out of them while your skin remains wet. Trails of water trailing down between your breasts.

He follows it before his eyes slowly go up until they meet yours.

“Perhaps it's a curse or talent, but one look at you and I can already tell where your mind's at.”

He doesn't make you feel pathetic. He simply comments but finds some sort of enjoyment in it. The male's ego is never truly gone and you wish you could crash it, verbally using your mouth as you're good at it. It doesn't matter that his implication is true – it doesn't matter you both know it. You would fight and argue, just to compete his ego with your own.

It seems like you're not able to this time.

“Yeah? And where's your mind at?” you try to sound unbothered, but the way your chest slowly starts to heave up completely betrays you.

“At the same exact place where yours is. Unlike you, I'm not ashamed to say it out loud.”

He backs you to the counter, nowhere near touching you – yet he does it with a single stare and has you exactly where he wants you. The tip of your toes almost touch, his figure hovering over yours.

Gulping, you try to play it cool. “Go on then. Tell me.”

He chuckles, it's soft but holds amused darkness that's wrapped around his cords. “If you insist.”

You don't. But you play into this fake illusion of not knowing what he's talking about. Just a pure excuse to try and prove him otherwise. To be honest, you might be curious about what he has to say. Jungkook has a good judgment for a character – when it comes to you. That obviously does not apply to his exes.

“I'm supposed to be somewhere else, physically and mentally, but here I am thinking of different ways of having you.”

You stop yourself just in time not to gasp out loud, showing him a vocal reaction other than your heart picking up its pace just at the single thought of it. Let alone having to hear him confess that.

Clearing your throat, you try to straighten your posture but end up brushing against his chest. You do your best at ignoring it, staring him straight in the eyes. “And that's what I want?”

Don't lie to yourself, the little devil of your consciousness ironically laughs. Of course you know all of this, you just have this urge to prove him otherwise and crush that confidence he has within himself.

“Please, you're already salivating just from the thought of it.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you argue: “No, I am not.”

“Tell me,” he cocks his head to the side. “Would you rather bend over the counter or sit on it?”

He sounds nothing but curious, not even feeding to your delusions of him being out of touch with reality. Only he is not.

“You're an idiot.” you breathe out, trying everything to sound scandalized or offended. You would be able to fool if it was anyone else. But not him.

“For speaking the truth?”

“You're saying it as if I would want that. Listen to what I'm saying.”

He chuckles, shaking his head lightly. “Words are irrelevant when your eyes practically beg me to touch you.”

You know he chose a lighter version of what he would initially say. He wants to be way more explicit, but you're both dancing on the edge.

“You think you know everything when it comes to me.” It sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth. He doesn't appear to be offended because you both know how much he truly knows you.

To bring this conversation to a different topic, he chooses to ignore it and simply smiles.

“So if I were to do this–” He lightly touches the side of your neck, wrapping his hand carefully around it. You inhale shakily, not being able to control it. “Would you tell me to stop?”

He gently massages your pulse that moves under his thumb, watching goosebumps appear on your soft skin. His hand is gone before you can blink, but is soon replaced by his fingertips tracing down your neck, past your collarbone until they stop at top of your breasts.

“Hm?”

You're not able to react. Your chest heaves, a glare fixated on him but no sound comes out of your mouth. He has you. Wrapped around his fingers, proving his point. Because of his ego and confidence, you know he's proving it to you rather than to anyone else. He can be that annoying.

Close to leaning toward his touch, the tip of his fingers play with the hem of your dress, occasionally and very faintly touch your skin. His other hand goes down, playing at the fabric of where your dress ends. It goes up, fabric gathering over his wrist. You shudder, mentally begging him to do more.

As if he could read your mind, his eyes look up without having to move his head, dark sinister spark in them. When he doesn't see you protesting, merely making sure of your current state, he does not waste a second and pulls the top hem of your dress. Revealing your breasts, he sucks in breath at the perked nipples. His hold on the dress tightens and within seconds, his mouth is wrapped around your nipple.

“Fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back as you arch into him.

He's like a starving man, perhaps he is from the stupid condition you've made up, but so are you. The other hand grasps the back of your thigh, molding his fingers into your skin as if he wants to leave as many imprints as he can.

Teeth grazing your teeth, he wraps his hand around your neck once more and makes you look at him. You just stare at each other, not an ounce of shame written on your faces. Your noses touch, your mouth already opened as small gasps similar to moans escape. You beg him to kiss you.

He doesn't.

Instead, he drops down to his knees and before you know it, his hands disappear underneath your dress and shamelessly pull down your only piece of underwear. Once that's done, he hoists up your leg over his shoulder and dives in right away. You can barely grab the edge of the sink counter and balance yourself on it, before his mouth is on you.

“Jungkook–”

You swear you hear him chuckle, but you're too distracted by the shots of pleasure he's attacking you with. He shows no mercy. Fingers wrapped in his hair, you tug onto his roots as he moans against you.

Nobody does it like you.

While that thought normally scares you, now you're fucking grateful he's the one that's between your legs.

You come embarrassingly fast, trying to keep yourself silent from moaning and embarrassingly so, you have no idea whether you've succeeded or not. Jungkook fucks you through it with his mouth, stopping just at the right time as he pulls away.

Lips swollen and red, eyes drinking you up, he effortlessly stands up. “Was this anything relatively close to where your mind was?”

It was far dirtier but there's nothing to be disappointed about. When it comes to orgasm and Jungkook, he never disappoints.

“I can't complain.” you breathe out, watching how he pulls up your dress and covers your breasts to give you at least some kind of modesty.

It's a single detail, one he never had to do and you never fully noticed – but no matter what, Jungkook always looks out for you. A blunt apology wants to come out, for numerous reasons of the misunderstanding of your own fears and good intentions, but Jungkook takes a few steps back.

“Change your clothes, I will wait outside.” he says, quickly changing his own before leaving you up to it.

You turn around, not being able to let go of the counter as you grip it harder and stare at your face. He didn't even go all the way and you look like you've had the time of your life.

Once again, you and Jungkook have succumbed to your desires and broken the only condition you've had for this vacation. It should leave you disappointed and perhaps you are little, but you're definitely satisfied for the time being.

At least until you have to walk out of the door and face the storm in the form of your best friend.

Your knees and hands have stopped buckling by the time you've changed into dry clothes. Nothing screams more than a tourist wearing an oversized shirt with a huge label saying “I love Hawaii”, an image of a red heart replacing the word love. It's something you would've worn to bed to sleep in – or at the beach to cover up the least – not parading yourself in it in public.

The sense of fashion is the last of your worries or things on your mind though.

Jungkook has waited outside of the door, guarding it safely. After his sudden leave, you did not lock the door which could be a terrible mistake if Jungkook wasn't there to make sure no one walks in. Somehow, you knew he was right behind that door.

The walk toward the rest of the group is spent in silence. As if his mouth wasn't all over your private areas. The memory of it makes an excitement bubble in your stomach, even though it should probably be at least a hint of some kind of regret.

You do not regret the act itself. Mostly, it's just you being so weak to prevent it.

Maya would surely get the baggage off your shoulders, supporting this wild decision. But she just doesn't get it.

Simple walk to find your newfound friends – or whatever you would call them – makes you miss your real friends. You wonder how things would go if they were here.

Maybe it's just your stupid naivety of believing that it would be different. No matter what, it seems you and Jungkook always find your way to each other – intimately speaking.

One thing's for sure.

Jungkook has confronted you. There's truth to both sides.

Of course the man can have anyone he points his finger at. It was your foolishness to think this vacation was the perfect chance at it. Selfishly, you might've done it more for yourself than for him.

And what if you would meet someone as well?

It would certainly make things easier. The decision would be way easier too.

Gabriel is handsome. Hot and charming. Practically the perfect package for a vacation hook-up. And as much as would be leant toward maybe kissing him at least, you can't do that when Jungkook is right there.

Once you find them, the mood is sour between you and you're not even trying to hide it. Maybe it's the lack of smile and a big portion of silence that makes them notice it. No one comments on it. In fact, you don't think it's worth being commented on.

Their positivity and good mood continues to be unaffected.

“We dodged the whole frozen yogurt, heard there are these best waffles somewhere around here with fresh fruit. Wanna go there instead?” Gabriel is the first one to ask, eyes finding your figure as soon as you approach them.

In this heat, sweet food or a snack is the least of your cravings.

“I'm actually not hungry at all,” you respond, feeling guilty for not being up for this idea.

Gabriel looks confused for a moment, certainly remembering you were all up for frozen yogurt just a few minutes ago. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn't question you but you can see the questions running inside his head.

Maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of his friends.

“The heat is killing me.” you add, trying to save it.

He nods, glancing toward the man next to you who hasn't made a move to… move. “Jungkook?”

“I already had a dessert.” he comments, shamelessly staring at the side of your face.

Eyes almost bulging out, you keep your calm and try to not react. Even though Jungkook has not worded it out weirdly to give anyone a big suspicion, it's you and your guilt that makes it think it's so obvious. You wish you could glare at him, but you know there are eyes on you.

“We stopped by the fruit stand, so we had that on our way here.” you lie, straight through your teeth and even though you could be defined as the worst liar ever, this lie comes out sweet and believable. But it's Gabriel's eyes that continue to stare and watch you like you're the biggest open book.

Fuck.

“Yeah, the fruit here tastes nice.” Jungkook continues and you do everything in your power not to smack him across that bratty mouth. Mouth you wish you could have kissed.

You give him a look, but he just cocks his brow at you. “Yeah, Jungkook came up with this idea–”

“Did I?”

You glare at him, “Anyway–sorry, I know we wanted to go there together.”

“It's fine,” Gabriel laughs, “We're still gonna get it. You guys are still going with us, right?”

“Yeah, sure!” you force yourself to smile, joining Gabriel as you feel Jungkook's burning gaze on your back.

That's until you hear Nara's voice behind you, making a casual conversation between them and diverting his attention elsewhere.

Once the sun is slowly setting down, you part ways and go back to the beach house in silence. No difference happens once you're inside, just the two of you.

The past two hours spent with people you've met here felt like a torture. That's what you at least thought until you and Jungkook continued to pass by each other as you two are getting ready. Comically enough, not to go somewhere together but with different people.

He kept his word and accepted Nara's offer to go out tonight. Whether he's doing this to piss you off or because he wants to is unknown to you. Perhaps there was a slight hope that you two would just come to an agreement to cancel and go somewhere together. Even staying inside would be enough.

Once Nara asked Jungkook if their plan is still on and Jungkook so shamelessly confirmed, all the hope left as soon as it came. Gabriel has done the same with you and there was nothing other for you to do, then to agree.

It's a pure comedy. If there was a third person just watching the two of you, they would have the time of their life. Somehow you can imagine Taehyung here, sitting on the couch as he judges you two but stays entertained throughout the entire time.

After taking a shower, you end up doing your make-up in the living room with the smallest mirror you've brought on this vacation. Your previous plan of doing it in the bathroom where there is a massive mirror has failed as soon as Jungkook uttered his need to use the shower as well.

You're not sure if he's done it on purpose, but he sure as hell took his time there. You're putting on the lipstick when he finally decides to get out of there.

Both of you stop.

He's wearing an all white – button-up with shorts that reach just above his knees. Shorts you didn't even know he owns. He looks elegant, yet casual just for the hot weather even though there's a slight darkness outside. His slicked back hair definitely helps.

Jungkook's eyes fall down on your figure. You're wearing a simple short black dress but the gold necklace and red lipstick adds a pinch of sexiness to it. None of you are overdressed or could win the outfit of the year, yet you can't keep eyes off each other.

You're the first one to break it, standing up and tidying up your make-up stuff that's all over the table, but not before raising a provocative brow at him. He scoffs as he walks past you without any word, his cologne the only thing left and lingering. Out of his sight, you close your eyes and breathe out the gathered breath in your lungs.

The two of you leave at the same time, in different directions to different people.

The restaurant where Gabriel has taken you is nice and they have a variety of food on their menu. You have a nice view of the beach and sea which adds points in your imaginary review of this place. You've got to be honest – Gabriel definitely went out his way to invite you here.

He doesn't mention his friend – Nara – not even once and while you're not sure if you want to hear the reminder of her hanging out with Jungkook at the moment, you hope you won't bump into each other. You feel bad.

You listen and talk to him, but your mind is all over the place. You should've known you won't be able to enjoy tonight if there's someone you've fought with. And with Jungkook out of all people.

At least the food is nice.

After two hours of good dinner and dessert, and a few glasses of wine, Gabriel decides to walk you back to the beach house. You're not stupid to decline it, especially at night. Before that you decide to take a quick walk down the beach.

“So, what are you saying? Was the dinner that bad?”

You give him a look, chuckling. “Did it meet your expectations of getting to know me?”

Now he's the one who laughs. “Yeah,” he nods. “Kinda makes it hard for me to go back to Italy.”

You raise your brow, smirking. “So you're saying you're not going where I go?”

He laughs at your joke, “I'm thinking of it.”

“Yeah, sure.” you laugh, “One dinner is all it took?”

“You're special.”

And you're more likely looking for a hook-up, you think. You both know there's no future to this.

“I am special?” you snicker, “Is that what you say to all the girls?”

“Is it working?” he teases.

“Nah, it takes more effort when it comes to me.”

He stops in his tracks which causes you to do the same. He stares, eyes dropping down your lips and red lights flare in your mind. Knowing what it most likely means, you quickly turn away.

“Come on, I'm so full I could fall asleep.”

Cringing at yourself, Gabriel follows and doesn't seem to be shaken up from it. He continues to talk and the mood is pretty much loosen up, which has been from the beginning. You had a good time and it went better than you expected it to.

Gabriel doesn't try to kiss you and you bid goodbye with a casual hug, both of you understanding that nothing will come out of this.

The lights are on as you open the unlocked door, meaning that Jungkook is already back. It seems like he just came as he came out of the bathroom, surprised to see you there.

“How was your date?” he asks, looking away from you in a second.

“It wasn't a date.” you clarify which makes him snicker. “What? It wasn't.”

“An Italian guy wants to make plans with you, alone. You might be right, it's not about a date at all.”

You give him an offensive look, “Are you insinuating that all I'm good for is a hook-up?”

“No, don't twist up my words.” He immediately stops your mind to go somewhere his mind doesn't even get close to. “I'm insinuating that a guy from freaking Italy suddenly shows his interest in you, when you live across the world.”

You frown, watching him reach for a glass of whiskey you haven't noticed before. He's not drunk but what he is, is confidently smirking in your face as if he knows everything. Well, he's not too far off. Gabriel wants to have fun and while he seems to be a decent human being, he's not about to move to a country to be with you. You wouldn't expect him to anyway.

“But you're right,” He purses his lips, the rim of the glass almost touching it as he lets out the tiniest chuckle that's supposed to be hidden. “He's probably wanting to marry you.”

He's provocating you. The plans have not turned out the way you both wanted to – but it is what it is. Your curiosity almost kills you and your impatient-self wants to ask him about this date, or whatever it was. This is a game, you realize.

And you won't let him have that satisfaction of you asking.

“He wanted to kiss me tonight.” you inform him.

You watch him take a sip, pursing his lips right after as you slowly watch him swallow down the hard liquor. “I'm sure he wanted to do much more.”

Is that a jealousy you hear?

No one has quite peaked your interest regarding this matter. Judging by Jungkook's confidence, he knows that.

“Next time I will let him kiss me. Maybe then he will want to marry me eventually.” You give him a false smile, stopping right beside him as he wants you with a clenched jaw.

Not giving him a chance to respond, you walk away with confident steps into the bedroom. The door closes and your back meets the wood. You can feel your heart in your neck, all the facade of confidence and peace leaves and you softly bang your head against it.

What you said was completely stupid. You don't want to kiss Gabriel. In fact, the thought of it is nowhere near as exciting as one would expect it to be. Both of you know that the second part was only said to piss him off and prove a point.

The questions are…

Will you let him kiss you next time?

Did or will Jungkook kiss someone else in here?

The ongoing battle that you're in the middle of has not ended.

Both sleeping at the very both ends, as far away from each other as possible, has been a good way to start the day. It's not like you expected to cuddle during the night.

That's not what friends do, your mind wants to say. But you've crossed that line too many times. You're not the typical friends either, that ship has sailed a long time ago.

You shouldn't have pushed him away. It's too late to take it back. For a moment you think of coming to Jungkook, apologize and somehow talk yourself out of this impossible battle you're in. You're willing to take all the blame for it.

However, that's all gone as soon as you hear Jungkook calling with who you assume is Nara, his tone sweet and sounding exciting as they make plans for today. You stand there, making yourself a coffee as you try not to listen to their ridiculous conversation. How can you not?

Jungkook sits right behind you, even if you didn't want to listen – it's impossible for you not to. He knows that. He knows you're listening. You're the one who has come in the middle of their conversation.

The call ends after a minute, your coffee ready but your mind isn't when you turn around and face the devil. You've seen him from the corner of your eyes when you entered the kitchen area, but nothing prepares you for the shirtless Jungkook. His hair isn't messy, he seems to be well put and from the looks of it, he came out of the shower not that long ago.

He cocks his brow at you, questioning your stare making your features harden. “Having a date today?”

You painfully watch the way the corner of his mouth slowly lifts up as he chuckles. “Careful, you start to sound jealous.”

“Me? Don't be ridiculous,” you scoff, “Where is she from again? Doesn't she live across the world?”

Jungkook features lighten up with pure amusement as you use his words against him. “At least I can admit this is a date.”

“I simply hung out with a guy. We never stated it's a date.” you point out, knowing it sounds silly but Gabriel just wanted to get to know you. You never officially called it a date.

Jungkook stands up, grabbing his empty plate as he gives you another one of his snickers. “Be in denial all you want.”

“You know what?” He raises his brow in question, too close to you as he reaches to put the plate into the sink. “I'm not gonna spend this morning arguing with you. If I wanted it to be a date, I would make it perfectly clear to him.”

He smiles, but there's nothing sweet about it. “A date or a chance for a hook-up. I don't see the difference.”

He does. Jungkook has always been the dating type rather than the hook-up one. Your two friends have taken that label since forever. But obviously, he's not talking about himself.

Suddenly, the air becomes thick and you stare right into his dark eyes. He's hovering over you, his scent luring you in as his eyes dance across your face. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe again as you quickly recover. “Yeah? And what would that be?”

Jungkook grabs his phone and looks at you across his shoulder. “You should meet new people.”

Your mouth opens and you stare for a moment before you scoff, “If I wanted to date, I would already have like hundreds of boyfriends. The same goes if I was looking for a hook-up.”

“Good for you.” he calls out bitterly, leaving you in the kitchen with a fuming gaze and burning heart.

But you realize one thing. How selfish you've just sounded. Jungkook has told you the same thing.

If any of you wanted that, you could've easily done so. Yet your reason for saying it to him and what ultimately started this argument, is completely different.

Jungkook is a dick.

He has left for his date or whatever the fuck it is, and has left you alone in the house even without asking whether you have plans or not. You know your relationship right now is not at its best stage, but little consideration could not hurt. Especially since he's always been caring and considerate no matter how much your relationship has taken a different turn.

It's one of the reasons why you desperately wanted to move on. Throw your past away and come back to the friendship you've known since the beginning. It leaves you agreeing that your original intention has come from a good place.

Luckily, Gabriel seems to show interest in you, still, after the little rejection you've given him after his attempt to kiss you. He comes to you a little after you come to the beach to just lay there. He's been there with his friends since this morning – at their usual spot. Nara is nowhere in sight and much to your distaste, you know who's she with.

So once Gabriel invites you to hang out with them, you agree and would rather spend your alone time in a company of many people, than to dwell all alone about your decisions in life. He keeps you entertained and busy, away from your haunting thoughts. Until…

“Nara is with your friend. You know where they went?”

You sit at a bar, drinking lemonade in this burning weather and you're thankful for the sunglasses you're wearing, so he's not about to see the tiniest roll of your eyes. “No idea. He forgot to mention.”

In the morning which is the last time you've seen him. He just left you to be with another woman, in a foreign country. You know you can call him anytime. Even now – no matter what your relationship looks like, he would be here in a second if you called and needed him. But still – you're mad he just left without saying anything. Deep down you know that's not the only thing that irritates you.

“Nara fancies him a lot.”

So? You want to say. What are you supposed to do with this information?

“Really?” You're trying to sound surprised. But even Gabriel– who had so little time to get to know you – catches onto the tone and laughs. “It's pretty obvious.” You try to save it by simply stating.

“She did ask him to go out again today. From what I know, she was never the one who asked someone out.”

“Where does she live again?” you ask, taking a sip off a lemonade trying to quench the fire inside you.

“Spain.”

“It's not like there's any future to it.”

Gabriel stays silent and just stares, while you continuously take innocent sips. “Actually, Nara has applied for some modeling jobs in Korea.”

He's definitely not talking about North Korea, unfortunately that's unrealistic.

“Oh,”

Well, fuck. This just gave a completely different turn of event.

Considering your luck, she probably applied to your modeling agency as well. Many foreigners do. You just hope no one will mention it. Not to be a bitch, but you can imagine someone asking you to help her to get in. That's beyond your competency. But you could always mention her to Junho.

Oh my god. Jungkook has worked there too. He probably has saved your boss' number. While you think Jungkook wouldn't cross that invisible line you've set, he's always trying to help and save the day.

“Listen, how about I take you out for dinner tonight?”

That's… shocking.

After the last time you ended things, you thought he gave up. But you should've known better. It seems guys like him barely give up.

“What's else for us to do?” he chuckles, not really waiting for an answer but it still comes.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you, reaching for his drink as his shoulders relax. “Our friends are meeting with each other almost every day.”

The taste of your non-alcoholic drinks becomes bitter on the tip of your tongue, just as much as your mood does. “As far as I know, you've got other friends here.”

“But none of them are you.”

Smooth. The little smirk you give him tells him everything. He's aware of his smooth delivery of compliments. You've got to give it to him – he knows his way around girls.

It's not like you have anything else to do. Jungkook seems to be busy and does not care what you do here anymore. And Gabriel's company is nice. If it's true what he said about Nara coming to Korea, there's a bigger chance of them making future plans together. And as much as this thought leaves the most bitter taste on your tongue, you'll leave that move for Jungkook to make.

After all, that's what you wanted for him and who are you to stand in his way.

Purposely not verbally reacting to Gabriel's flirting, you shrug and lean in your seat. “Dinner sounds perfect.”

Legs resting on top of the coffee table, Gossip Girl plays in the background as you mindlessly pop grapes in your mouth. Maybe you're silently imagining it's Jungkook whom you're crushing between your teeth.

After spending almost the full day with Gabriel and then the rest of his friends, you've come to the beach house finding it completely empty. It looks exactly where it's left off and you're embarrassed to admit that you've checked Jungkook's things to see if they've moved. And perhaps he was here. They haven't, which only meant one thing – Jungkook hasn't come here yet.

Sooner than later, the door opens and there he is.

He does not seem surprised to see you there – almost as if he knew you wouldn't be anywhere else. You give him that much satisfaction of looking at him once he arrives, acknowledging his late arrival. You hate what you do but it has its own purpose. And that is the single glare you give him.

You feel like a mother, silently scolding her child for coming home late.

He goes for a shower right away and you battle with thoughts of him, erasing the traces of possible sex on his skin. He comes back after a few minutes, wearing just his boxers with wet hair. You want to scold him for walking around like that, but that would be slightly selfish for numerous reasons. Is he torturing you on purpose?

He joins you on the couch, not questioning your choice of TV show as he knows you've previously seen it. As he sits down, you can't hold it back and just come straight to the point.

“Will you help her?”

Your gaze is focused on the TV screen, but you feel his own burning the side of your face. “Huh?”

“Nara.”

He just stares which causes you to look at him and roll your eyes at him. “She applied for modeling agencies in Korea.”

“Korea is huge,” he says after a moment. “And how do you even know that?”

“Gabriel told me.” You try to not sound too proud.

“When?” he asks confusingly. “She told me just today.”

He's questioning if you've known this information sooner but never told him.

This time you inform him with a smug face. “He told me today as well.”

The revelation that you haven't spent your day here alone is out. He is unreadable. He just watches you, almost as if he wants to make sure you're not making this up. Too bad for him. You're not making anything up and this time you're not too shy to show how proud you are for it.

“What? You thought I was here all alone while you went on a date?”

It's a purposeful jab, one that leads to nothing but disaster but you don't care. You're mad and annoyed. And now he knows why. Yet he doesn't make any effort to make an excuse for himself.

“You brought him here?”

First of all – you're not sure what would be so bad about it, even if you brought him here. But then it clicks. Jungkook has his own assumptions and bringing a guy here, while you're all alone could mean different things. Your skin is moisturized and you smell like your shower gel, which means you've left the shower not that long ago.

Perhaps it could be considered as disrespectful if you indeed brought him into a house, Jungkook rented and is a space for you two. You could understand that.

If the roles were reversed and you found out he brought Nara here – well… the thought of it doesn't sit well with you. But what does, when it comes to her?

“No, he asked me out after you so kindly left me here to go on your stupid date.” you huff out, standing up and forgetting about your TV show. The controller is tossed on the couch as you leave without looking at him.

Your steps lead to the bathroom where there's a slight trace of foggy mirror left after Jungkook's shower. Mentally groaning at the scent of him dominating in the room, you reach toward the sink faucet in a desperate need to freshen up your burning face.

You don't get to turn the water on as Jungkook is in your tracks, a burning gaze aimed at you. “You seemed to have solved it pretty quickly.”

Realizing he meant your accusation of leaving you to go on a date, you scoff.

“I wasn't about to sit here and sulk, waiting like a dog for you. If that's what you were planning for me to do.”

“I wasn't planning that,” he states, even though he wants to be just as mad for some reason. “I wasn't planning on being out until now.”

“Well, you were!” you exclaim.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Is that all you've got to say?”

He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “What am I supposed to say?”

“You know what? Nothing. Say nothing.” you fume, forgetting your dumb purpose in the bathroom anyway as you rush to get past him. But as soon as you get close, his hand around your wrist stops you.

The touch is electrifying, sadly not in an awful way and you hate how your body reacts to him naturally. “Did you at least have fun?” you scoff.

“Would you be mad if I said I did?”

You almost cry, like a child but the anger inside you is bigger than anything else and you shake his hold on you. “And did you have fun?”

“Lots of it.” you spit the words at him.

You both stare into each other's eyes, the anger screaming out of them and yet the question you want to ask is unspoken.

“Good.”

“Goodnight Jungkook.” you murmur, walking away and quickening up the pace before you can do something you really want to, but would regret later.

One would think that after yesterday's exchange of pitiful words, you two would have solved it or at least tried to voice the problem here. It seems there is not enough pity and when the two of you want to, you could be the biggest pity bitches.

“Milk?”

Side-eyed look toward Jungkook, having two bowls of cereal ready and awaiting your answer. “I can make myself breakfast.”

“Milk?” he asks through his teeth, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back as you sit down.

“Yes.”

Whether this is his way of saying sorry for yesterday or not is unknown and you're not about to investigate it. You mutter a silent thank you once the bowl is set in front of you and you two dig into your breakfast without any other sort of conversation.

The rest of the morning goes like this. One word communication which seems almost like a challenge. Phones are your best friend but both of you are stubborn to talk. You swim in the pool for the first time since you're here, enjoying the sun warming your skin as Jungkook goes for his morning jog and comes back an hour later.

You're playing quiet house, so it seems.

As the day goes, it's more than clear that both of you have plans tonight. Separate plans.

Jungkook's phone goes off and he goes inside to take the call, after joining you in the pool. Trying to keep your nerves to yourself, you've had to endure his presence (lack of clothed presence). You went to rest on a beach chair while he swam. PAIN.

It's close to dinner time and you both get ready. Unlike Jungkook, you spend more time in the bathroom to do your hair and make-up, which he so “kindly” reminds you every time he wants to take a shower or goes to grab something there.

The air is thick and it has nothing to do with the scent of hairspray and your fragrance.

None of you ask what's your plan for tonight. But both of you can tell. No details though.

“You done here?”

You stop in the middle of putting your lipstick on as you give him a look, “Does it look like it?”

Ignoring the attitude in your tone, Jungkook comes up to the mirror and by doing that, he moves you to the side. He almost causes the lipstick to meet your cheek and you can tell, you almost see a smirk curling his lips.

“Don't look at me like that. You've been here for a long time.” he says without sparing you a glance.

While you watch from the side with an open mouth and disbelief written on your face, he easily grabs his hair gel and starts doing his own hair. You fume, snatching your make-up bag and stomping away to finish what you haven't had the chance to – thanks to Jungkook.

By the time you're done, Jungkook has left without saying another word. You haven't even heard him leaving and you feel pathetic as you search him around the house, all while trying to look for something. Turns out there's no one here and he has left. First and again.

Luckily, Gabriel texts you not that long after and proposes a short walk. He doesn't want to reveal the restaurant location but he had to make a reservation, which already sounds fancy as it is. You're hungry and considering you're not in your best state, still fuming, you decide not to complain. First of all, it's not polite at all.

Gabriel is trying and just because you're in a mood to be a bitch, doesn't mean he's the one who deserves it. At least there's some sort of self-reflection happening.

And two, maybe it's a good idea to walk around a bit to come to different thoughts. Plus, you will eat more by the time you arrive at the restaurant.

He has cleaned up nicely, catching female eyes as you walk around for a few minutes. The walk has been short, just enough to make a casual conversation until you arrive.

The restaurant is located on a pier, waiters all wearing fancy white shirts and slacks – a difference from all the shirts with Hawaiian motifs and skin showing.

As you're led to your table, you notice there's not a single table free and tonight it's fully packed.

“What is this place?” you ask as soon as the waiter hands you menus and leaves after.

“It's the most famous restaurant on this island.”

Your mouth opens and then it closes again. “Are you insane?”

He laughs, staring at you fondly as if you haven't been too bold with your words. “This is what I like about you.”

“What,”

“Your honesty,” he hums, “It's refreshing. You don't try to woo me.”

“Why would I woo you?” you ask, genuinely curious but again, it comes out a little bluntly which causes him to laugh again.

“Ouch,” he jokes, holding his chest as you stare at him across the table. “You're in this world to punish men for their overly huge egos.”

You purse your lips, “I'm not in this world for men, first of all.”

“Technically, you are thanks to one.”

Your nose scrunches up which causes him to laugh again. “That's besides the point.”

“So is there anyone who's been trying to woo you instead?”

“Besides you, no. Not at the moment.”

He cracks another laughter, “Touché. I deserved that.”

Giggling, you shake your head at your conversation.

“So tell me–” His words drift away because in the midst of your laughter, you spot someone entering your line of vision.

The world could not be any more cruel at the moment. There they are.

Jungkook and Nara enter the pier as they're seated by the waiter, just like you were minutes ago. Jungkook, the gentleman he is, pulls out the chair for her as she giggles with a bright smile. Clearly wooed herself by the sweet gesture.

“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter so silently, that you're sure Gabriel can't make the words out but it's enough to silence him as he follows your gaze.

He turns around and lets out a surprised, but light sound.

“Oh, I guess me and your friend think alike.”

You try hard not to make a sour expression as you clear your throat. “Let's not interrupt them. What were you saying?”

“Is there someone waiting for you? Back in Seoul?”

“I told you, I'm single.” you chuckle.

“I know, but that doesn't mean there's not someone who's ready to fight for you.”

Your fingers stop clicking and you gulp.

“So you're telling me there's no one in your life? Not even recently?”

It's like he can see there's something on your mind. You decide to come up with half of the truth. It's not like you'll see him again.

“There–It wasn't a relationship, more like a relationship of convenience–”

“So, a hook-up partner, right?”

Lips in a straight line, you hum in confirmation. “Yeah, whatever. We ended it, so it felt like a good decision to come here and just relax. Come to different thoughts.”

Cominically enough, you came here with a person you're currently talking about. The one who's sitting just a few tables from you two.

God, you sound so stupid. Of course, you're not telling Gabriel the whole truth. The purpose of coming here with Jungkook was to enjoy it, strengthen your friendship – the previous one you've had. You had an agreement.

Somehow, you end up arguing thanks to you and it gets all twisted.

“Well, I know you were supposed to come here with your friends. So I understand why you would do that.”

“It's not just because of that. We were planning this for months. It was supposed to be a friends' vacation.”

He hums in understanding and doesn't get the opportunity to speak, as the waiter comes back and asks for your order. After you've ordered your meal, Gabriel leans back and studies you for a short moment. Just before you're about to ask about his lingering gaze and its purpose behind it, he speaks.

“You're not really looking for a relationship, are you?”

Your brows shoot up at the unexpected question. For a while, you're not sure how to answer and your face says it all. In the end, you shrug and voice your confusion. “What's with the sudden question?”

“I apologize,” he smiles, “I had to voice my curiosity and I wonder if I was right.”

You lean back, fingers clicking against the table. “I'm not against it. If it comes, I welcome it.”

“Hm,” he hums. “So no hard break-up?”

“Why do you think so?”

“I don't know, there's just something about you that I can't seem to crack.”

“Sometimes some things aren't meant to be cracked.” you tell him, making him smile at the possible truth.

“Sometimes,” he agrees. “I'm sorry if I seem to be nosy.”

“No, it's okay. Trust me, I win when it comes to curiosity.” you admit with a silent laugh.

“I travel a lot, so I don't really have enough time to properly date. No woman wants a man who's ten months out of the country out of the year.”

“What do you do again?”

“Content creator.”

“Oh, so you're an influencer?”

He laughs, “Not really. I do write for a traveling blog.”

“Maybe you'll find someone you can date and travel with.”

“Unfortunately, you don't seem that kind of person.”

You laugh, “I do enjoy Seoul. It's home by now.”

It doesn't take a genius to realize that the only contact he gets through women is mostly by hooking-up. Though, by the look of it it seems that maybe he's longing for something more stable and serious.

“You know, this time I'm here for a good vacation. No work. No writing.”

“That's great. I'm assuming all that traveling is tiring.”

“It is. I enjoy it and I love my job. But I came here to maybe come to new thoughts.” he explains.

The waiter brings you your food shortly after. There's no awkward silence during eating, you keep a slightly lighter conversation as Gabriel remains nothing but a gentleman. You would lie if you said you're purposely focusing your gaze on the plate, rather than on Gabriel fearing your eyes would wander somewhere they should not.

You don't care. Maybe they noticed you and clearly decided not to interrupt you as well. Or maybe there's still that awkward awaiting of them noticing. Sipping on a drink, in a hope it will bring you to different thoughts and help you relax a little bit more.

The reason for your slight discomfort doesn't need to be named.

“You assumed, I've been through a break-up. Why?” you ask, curious as he seems taken back.

“I asked more than assumed,” he corrects. You don't seem to be buying that statement but remain silent. “At first I thought you're not interested in me, particularly. But I get a feeling you're just not interested in general.”

“Why's that?”

Yes. He might be right. You're not necessarily trying to search for someone. But you don't get a feeling as if you were against it.

“Let me be bold here.”

“Please.” you encourage him.

“There are men who can't keep their eyes off you. And I simply noticed by spending time with you.”

You give him a doubtful look which he quickly disregards by shaking his head.

“Men are men.” you simply tell him.

He makes a disapproving sound. “There are hundreds of women at the beach, but the majority of them stare at you.”

“Okay, now you're just giving me a compliment.”

“I am not,” he laughs gently, “I could but I guess it is a compliment when there are men thirsting over you.”

“Like I said. Men are men. They're thirsting over anything that wears a bikini.”

“That–can be true. But my point still stands.”

You clear your throat, “Okay. Maybe I'm not completely in a place where I'm searching for a relationship. I never hid that.”

“Of course. But that's why I just tried to prove my point why I think you're not interested.”

You stay silent for a second. He's technically a stranger but it seems as if you were having this conversation with a friend. You don't feel uncomfortable and there's no need for you to get defensive over this topic. He's wondering and that's fine.

“It wasn't a relationship. Just a hooking-up type of one and we ended it. So I just need to get things back how they were.”

And comically enough, the person who's a part of this is sitting just right over there. Even though Gabriel seems to notice quite a few things, Jungkook and your history with him seems to be oblivious to him.

Why do you care?

You've been trying to keep it a secret as long as possible until it got out. So what if he knows the truth? It's not like you'll see him again – most likely. You don't need anyone to judge you two or look at you differently. You definitely don't need any more insights into this matter than your friends have delivered.

Your own mind is a mess.

And on top of it, Jungkook and you are on edge.

The mention of him causes you to look up. And fuck. What a mistake you make.

You meet Jungkook's gaze, the intense color in them burning even from this distance as he's already looking at you. Your breath hitches in the most subtle way. While you stare shocked that he has noticed you, his brows are pinched together.

He's not exactly pleased to find you here.

Nara sits on the opposite side of the table, so all you can see is her back but she seems to be saying something to him. Jungkook reaches for the glass of wine and takes a few sips, eyes not leaving yours.

Then he's the first one to look away. That tiny detail affects you more than you're able to admit and you almost fume when the frown disappears from his face. You watch it all. His features relax as he talks to her back, obviously listening to her even though his eyes were elsewhere. Even that is kind of annoying.

Nara gently throws her head back and giggles almost so loudly, that you hear some of it. With the most burning eyes you watch Jungkook smile and let out the prettiest gentle laugh.

“Are you okay?”

You quickly avert your gaze to Gabriel. “Yeah.”

“Thought I already bore you.”

You push out a laugh, wishing Jungkook is looking. But once your eyes stupidly wander back to him – he actually is looking.

You make sure Jungkook sees the tiny provoking movement upwards of your lips. And he does. His eyes narrow, addressing the glare to you and only you.

“No, I'm starting to have a lot of fun.”

Gabriel's and yours glasses clink together comically in a synchronized way. But the only ones who seem to be on the same wavelength and having an idea – are you and Jungkook.

a/n: F-I–N-A-L-L-Y! believe it or not, nobody wanted to get this chapter out more than me! if you've been around and reading some of the asks, you probably know life got crazy and busy! as always, I'm super grateful to everyone who's been patient for me and cheering on me whether it was online or offline ♡ to every person who's been harassing me on the internet over an update, this one's not for you. I see you and I'm not interested. I've said this in one of my asks – you never know what someone goes through offline and what could possibly be the reason of their lack of activity.

on another note, this chapter should've had more scenes and so much more was supposed to happen, but from obvious reasons I've decided to post it in the end because I still think it's a good chapter. anyway, I hope you'll like it just as much as I liked it when I was writing it (no matter how much time it took me 🥴) all the love goes to you guys!

If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡ Teaser for chapter 60 will be posted there!

goal: 9k notes 🌙

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts au #mutual help #personasintro

5K notes · View notes

elysianightsss · 3 months

Text

Mouth watering sundress

Summary: John gives you a ride home from work, and his phone number…

It was the car ride from hell.

John drove with one hand on the steering wheel and one on the clutch, his truck smelled just like him. Oak wood, cigars and spiced oranges. It had a musky undertone that made you shift in your seat, thighs clenching uncomfortably. The Chevy he drove somehow didn’t surprise you and the country music quietly playing from the radio didn’t surprise you either.

His plaid button up shirt and loose blue jeans had you staring. You could see where the muscles were too big for his shirt when he changed gears it looked like it was going to rip. You wondered what it would feel like to have those muscular arms wrapped around your body.

You played with the hem of your floral sundress, tracing the little flowers while you scolded yourself for thinking such things about your gorgeous neighbour.

“How was work?” John asked with gentle curiosity, his big hand moving the clutch to change gear.

“It was okay.” You shrugged glancing out of the window only to look back at him and see a frown on his face.

“Just okay?” His eyebrows rose as he watched little old Doris pull out in front of him in her mini with no indication whatsoever.

“Yeah. I mean my job consists of listening to people complain on the phone and trying to fix their issues. It was pretty boring, only gets good when you get the screamers.” You laugh, watching the forest trees pass by as he drives.

“Screamers?” He asks, a small laugh coming out himself, though you picked up the concern dithering there. Tricks of the trade.

“People who start shouting or screaming down the phone as soon as you answer. Mostly cause they haven’t got they wanted from the company yet.” You explain, saying it so casually.

“That doesn’t sound too fun.”

“Maybe not fun but definitely an interesting change. Gives me something to think about on the weekends too. Maybe if I should have responded differently. How can I better my answers for next time it happens.” Your brows furrow slightly realising how pathetic you just sounded.

“No friends to make your weekends interesting?”he cleared his throat hoping he wasn’t too obvious here, “or boyfriend.” He glanced quickly at you out of the corner of his eyes to catch you cracking a small smile making one grow on his face too. So infectious.

“Some friends but they work on the weekends. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” That had John shifting into the wrong gear the car making a loud scraping noise, he scrambled to quickly rectify the situation before the car stalled.

“Fiance? Husband?” He grimaced saying it, if felt like a dirty word on his tongue, leaving a bitter after taste that quickly disappeared when he spotted no ring on your finger.

“Nope. Completely and pathetically single.” You sighed, not dramatic, but simply a deep breath that showed how tired you were from everything. And boy you were tired. Exhausted from the emotional stress of life.

“Oh?” His interest clear, just as much as his curiosity was.

“Every time I like a guy or even think about entering into a relationship, it always fucks up in a monumental way and I always end up hurt. Every single time.” You let out another tired sigh. It was hard to be single when both your friends had partners, always the third wheel. It made you really hate life at the moment. Though you suppose you’d been in worse positions than in a Chevy with your large, handsome neighbour.

You pulled up to a traffic light, John pulling up the hand break before turning to look at you with a deep seriousness gleaming not only in his eyes but on his face, his body language, his entire demeanour had become the embodiment of seriousness.

“I would never hurt you. Ever.” He was so earnest. It made your heart ache, yearn for the kind of man you’d always wanted but never had. Always boys, never men.

The light turned green just as you let out a shaky breath, fingers lacing together in your lap picking at your nails in nervousness. Heat rising on your cheeks when his hand reached over to lay itself on top of yours for a few moments before pulling your hands apart, “Don’t do that. You’ll ruin those pretty hands.” He lets go just as he looks deep into your eyes, “and we can’t have that can we.”

You didn’t know what to say, the glint in his eyes, the way he tipped his head to the side a bit. Fuck, he looked wonderful. You steeled yourself and consumed every bit of self confidence you had, “You think my hands are pretty?” You stared at him, blinking a few times, definitely not fluttering your lashes. Your eyes flickered to where his jaw seemed to clench tightly for a few moments.

The intensity was building as he leaned in closer to you, it had a burning feeling building in your stomach, a fluttering you’d never experienced before the longer he stared into your eyes

Before he could even open his mouth in reply the beeping of horns from the cars behind started going off. You cleared your throat turning to face the front of the car, “The lights green John.”

“Mhm.” It’s short. Sweet. And so fucking sexy. His voice gravely and low, rumbling in his chest as he hums. Prolonging his gaze upon you just a few more moments before he turns back to the steering wheel and begins driving off.

You quietly let out a breath you hadn’t realised had built up, it did nothing however to ease the fluttering in your stomach. Only seemed to make the nausea worsen. You made a point of not picking at your nails, instead you lay your hands over your thighs, the feeling of your skin and the material of your sundress distracting you enough to not see smirk that graced John’s lips.

John lips, those luscious kissable lips that seemed almost hidden away by the full beard that had grown around his mouth. Like some forbidden fruit hidden just enough in the garden of Eden. He seemed like some forbidden fruit.

He stopped the car just outside your house, getting out to open the car door for you to get out. “Thank you for the ride home.”

“Anytime sweetheart.” He gazed down at you, his height even more daunting now that he was standing. His whole being was just large. That was the best way to describe him.

Honestly, you thought about him for the rest of the evening and all night. You thought about his muscles, the way they stretched the fabric of his shirt over the skin. The way his hands seemed to dwarf everything, you wondered how big they would look holding yours. You thought about the way he smirked after calling your hands pretty. You thought about the way his blue eyes glistened when he gave you his phone number.

It was all you thought about. All that was on your mind with no way to get rid of it, no sign that the brazen thoughts would ever leave you. It was like your own personal brand of torture.

Even when you finally managed to drift off, you dreamed of him. Dreamed that he would touch you the way you wanted him to. That he would kiss you desperately, achingly. You were hungry to be touched by him, so hungry that even the very thought of tasting him made you feel nauseous. It had been so long since anything had touched you, that your body had grown accustom to the emptiness that gnawed at you day in, day out.

But maybe it was just what you needed, to push past the sickness. To hold on tight to the warmth that wanted to cover you, that wanted to wrap itself around you. But you couldn’t help but push it away, say no in cruel anticipation of the inevitable. Love is a tender kiss for most people. For you she saves her sharpest axe.

Waking up was humbling, how groggy and unhinged you felt after a night of thinking and dreaming of John. Rolling over in bed you unplugged your phone and began to scroll through your notifications. Your heart jumping in your chest at the sight of a new text; from John.

John: Hey pretty girl. 7:36am. read.

Holy shit, he’d text you this morning. Was it when he first woke up? He was he thinking about you all night too? This man is something else.

John: No reply already? I thought I would’ve had to say something stupid first before you ignored me sweetheart. ;) 9:41am. read.

You: Sorry, got distracted. How’d you sleep? 9:42am. read.

John: Like a log. You? 9:42am. read.

You: Could use a couple more hours honestly. 9:43am. read.

John: What do you have planned today sweetheart? 9:45am. read.

What did you have planned today? Rolling around in bed thinking about a well built beast with thick mutton chops. So enthralled with the simple idea of John.

Fuck you’d never met a man so….well manly. His big muscles and his thick musky scent that screamed masculine in the most primal way possible. In every circumstance, in every part of the world and every century, he would be the ideal mate. To protect and provide-

The ringing makes you jump, the phone vibrating in your hand as you see the unfamiliar number only just added to your phone. You breathe in sharply for a moment, blowing out shakily, hands beginning to sweat. And it’s not even him in person, it’s just a phone call.

“It’s just a phone call. You can press the end button at any time.” You tell yourself, reassuring yourself before sliding your thumb along the screen, the answer swipe turning green. You put the cold screen to your ear. “John?”

“I got impatient.” His voice sounded so low and deep, must be that its first thing in the morning.

“Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts.” You mumble picking at the sheets surrounding you.

“Anything you wanna share? Or is it too soon to be prying into that pretty head of yours.”

“God you’re forward.” You breathe out a little laugh, a hot feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He laughed, heartily. “I’m just wired that way love.”

“I’m not sure if I like it.”

“Oh?” John voice was light and soft, if you were really leaning into it you’d notice the tinge of disappointment in the sound.

“It’s catching me off guard. I like to keep my cards close to my chest.” You swirled your finger along the pattern of the crocheted pillow in front of you.

“I’d happily let you play me.”

“John.” You breathe out another laugh, your heart skipping a beat.

“Like that,” he huffed low and wild, “like when you say my name. Sounds so nice coming from you.”

“It does?”

“Well with a pretty voice like that, I’m sure you can make anything sound nice.” He chuckled. And fuck you had to mute with how you giggled, kicking your feet with giddiness.

“So you want to go for lunch?” The rumbly bearish throaty sexy voice melted your knees until they felt like jelly.

“Again with the forwardness.” Your flushed cheeks hurt, couldn’t wipe the grin off your face, and he could hear it.

“I’m a man who knows what he wants and goes for it.” John answered without so much as a thought, the answer coming so naturally.

“I’ll consider it.” You pressed the red button and jumped in the shower, cold and brisk. It was the only way to bring your burning body temperature down.

John was unlike anybody you’d ever met, definitely better than an of your exs and you hadn’t even gotten to the deep stuff yet.

You wrapped a towel around your body and began to dry your hair with your other towel when you noticed your phone light up, a nervous grin tugging at your lips as you picked up the device and read the text.

John: Considered it yet? 10:02. read.

You shook your head, teeth biting into your smile. He was so unashamed and so bold. It made you question yourself, made you want more than you had once had. Made you want him.

You: I’d love to have lunch with you. 10:04am. read.

John: I’ll pick you up in an hour, wear that mouth watering sundress again ;) 10:04am. delivered.

Mouth watering sundress? Fuck, no one had ever said that to you before. Hell no one had ever offered so many compliments in one conversation before. He was truly a man of different breed. You giggled again falling into your bed and kicking your feet in the air, he was such a flirt. You loved it.

2K notes · View notes

godslino · 8 months

Text

MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #stray kids #skz #first date series

1K notes · View notes

lisired · 6 months

Text

who needs cupid’s bow?

pairing: bff!haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: bff2l, suggestive, lots of sexual innuedos but no smut, fluff, a teaspoon of angst, mc & hc are oblivious to each other’s feelings and jaemin calls them out on their bullshit, mutual pining

summary: Cupid is not on your side, it seems. He’s made you fall in love with the worst possible person ever, AKA your best friend, AKA the man who still eats tootsie-pops—willingly. And frankly, it feels like the damn candy has a better chance of dating him than you ever will.

word count: 11.1k

a/n: inspired by down for you by kehlani, boyfriend by ariana grande, and serial lover by kehlani. another oldie but i kinda like it… kinda. as always, feedback is appreciated!

It’s safe to say that Cupid is your mortal enemy (Or immortal—whatever. Nonetheless, you aren’t the biggest fan of him.)

You don’t know why, but for some inexplicable reason, he always makes you fall in love with the wrong people. Such as Lee Taeyong from eighth grade, or your failed relationship with Kim Jisoo from your biology class in high school — a pretty girl, but you were as compatible as Mentos and Coca-Cola. Hell, there was even Jung Sungchan from senior year, who you naturally drifted away from during an exam period. They’re all chapters in your book now, but you’re currently stuck on the one about your best friend, Lee Haechan.

It seems like you’re Cupid’s mortal enemy, too. You and Haechan are always side by side, down one another’s throats, there’s no way his arrow could have hit you and missed Haechan.

Perhaps, it’s a hole you dug yourself in. Via mutual friends, when you were seventeen, you met Lee Haechan — jock, senior, and the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. There was an instant connection between you two, all it took was a convo at a party about coincidentally both failing the same math exam, and you quickly became friends and close enough to pour out your heart into little rants whenever there was something personal bothering either of you, and you needed an outlet. You liked him because he understood you. He was patient witth you. You see, you aren’t the best at communicating how you feel, and he never makes you feel bad about it.

You remember breaking up with your then-boyfriend, Jung Sungchan, and while you weren’t heartbroken since you saw it coming and all the love had evaporated by then, you were devastated that you no longer had someone to kiss. That being your main concern made Haechan laugh. He thought it was the most you thing ever.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you asked, a little grin on your face, although you were very serious. It wouldn’t be the end of the world, kissing your best friend. He has pretty lips, and it isn’t like it’ll mean anything, you think. It’s just one kiss.

Haechan scoffed, biting off the last remaining piece of his Tootsie Pop off the stick. You’re kidding, he thinks. Why would you seriously want to kiss him? And after breaking up with your now ex-boyfriend? The wound’s still fresh. “You wouldn’t dare.”

To Haechan’s surprise, you dared.

He tasted like chocolate, exactly like a Tootsie Pop, as expected of him. You didn’t mind, though. You never do. It was fun, you liked the way Haechan held you in his lap and kissed you back with fierceness, and he still kisses you with that same passion, like there’s no tomorrow.

And that’s the problem.

Fast-forward four years later, you’re still best friends with Lee Haechan, only this time you’re in college, and have the fattest, most gigantic crush on him. Somewhere along the way, those lines between love and friendship were blurred. It’s impossible to pinpoint when, but you fell deep and hard for your best friend.

And the worst part? You doubt he’ll ever reciprocate those feelings.

One kiss turned into more than you can count on your fingers and toes.

Should you continue making out with your best friend who doesn’t reciprocate your romantic interest in him? Probably not.

Are you still going to, though? Absolutely.

“Y/n, I’m going to kill you,” Haechan states as he stumps inside the dining room. His hair is tussled since he’s just waken up from a nap, but you like this raw side of him. He looks gorgeous, and despite him basically threatening to murder you you still want to kiss him.

“Romantic,” you deadpan, training your eyes back on your laptop. It takes everything in you not to stare, but if you want to keep your feelings low-key, you need to follow a couple of rules.

“I know you took my Tootsie Pop. Where is it?”

You smirk a little, but it quickly fades into a line. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Okay, so maybe that’s a lie, and you both know it. You aren’t the only other person in the house, but Jungwoo, Haechan’s stepbrother, is asleep and wouldn’t cut his nap time short to do something as stupid as stealing the last of his brother’s favorite candy. That leaves you. As his best friend, you’re the first person to know Haechan turns murderous over those stupid lollipops, and that he’s the last person to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie-Pop. In your personal opinion, they’re not even that good. But he’s loved them ever since you’ve known him.

“We’re best friends, y/n. I know when you’re lying,” he remarks, and doesn’t give you the chance to answer before he persists, “where is it?”

There’s only one way out of this.

Run.

Haechan follows almost automatically, and in spite of being barely awake he obviously has the upper hand because he’s always leaned more towards the sport-y side. This doesn’t deter you though, because you have a getaway plan.

In your attempt to somehow outrun a man that used to do track and field, you make a beeline for the backyard door. He’s not going to outrun you in the grass in slippers, you think as you turn to see if he’s caught up on you. You’re in the lead, albeit barely, with your body almost being in arms reach. You try to pick up your speed, and once you reach the door you hurry to turn the knob. Except, there’s one, itty-bitty problem.

The door is fucking locked.

And you already know you won’t have time to open it, so you cave in to defeat, whirling around with your hands up in a surrendering pose. Your plan’s backfired; you’ve been caught.

“Oh, I’ve got you now,” Haechan says cockily. He has you—hook, line, and sinker, and at this point you aren’t even upset. You can’t be upset. His eyes are on you, and his body is close to yours, dangerously so.

“Okay, you win. Happy?” You mumur.

“Not until I get my Tootsie Pop back,” he shakes his head, “now where is it?”

Smiling, you shrug. Of course, you know where the candy is, but he’s either going to have to win or pry the answer out of you.

Then, he steps even closer, and your heart starts pounding in your chest twenty times faster than your feet were against the hardwood. This isn’t your first rodeo, you’ve made out with your best friend countless times, yet the anticipation gives you a rush, like you’ve never done this before. It makes you feel like a teenager in love all over again — seventeen, young and head over heels in love with the man closest to you.

He’s back you into the door, and you can’t keep your eyes off his lips. Beautiful, plush, soft, and your eyes flutter shut as you prepare to feel the same skilled pair against your own, closer, and closer, and closer—

Crunch.

“I fucking knew it!” Haechan yells, jolting your eyes open. You aren’t even given the opportunity to register the situation before his hands are digging into your back pocket, retrieving his fortunately unharmed Tootsie Pop.

It feels like he’s gone before you can even blink, and realizing he’s slipped back into the hall, you begin to follow him into his room. “Hey!” you yell, and he doesn’t say anything, just looking up at you from his gaming chair with that damn candy hanging from his mouth, “why didn’t you kiss me?”

“Why’d you steal my Tootsie Pop?”

Okay, that was stupid, yes, but there was a particular goal in mind which was reached, even if for a short-lived moment.

You frown, “I wanted your attention.”

Haechan shakes his head, laughing. “C’mere.”

Somehow, those words never fail, making you melt and slip into his lap effortlessly every time. You’re like Jell-O to his voice, to his touch, to his whole. You’re a goner, some would say, and a part of you is alright with never coming back if it means you get to feel all the weird, Cupid-y emotions he makes you feel.

At this point, you don’t think you’ll ever stop kissing Haechan. In the time that you’ve been together, you’ve both been in relationships, hence putting the make out sessions on hiatus. They were never really long though, because you’d break up with them and inevitably find your way back to one another in the end.

His fingers guide your chin up, and once more your eyes flutter shut as his lips unite with yours. Haechan kisses in a manner that contrasts with the soft feeling of his lips. He always starts off gentle, but there’s a hunger that overcomes him as he stands up and pushes you against his desk, rough yet graceful and holding you so firmly, like you’re glass, but he wants to break you. And when he shatters you into all those tiny pieces, you don’t care. You want him to glue you back together and do it all over again. He’s intoxicating, he’s an addictive drug, but he tastes like candy, and you can’t stop coming back to him. He feels like home, the place where you belong. The place where you can be one-hundred percent, authentically you, safe and whole, more than the general perception than you. And fuck, does he kiss like the damn devil himself.

You were silly for ever believing it would only be one kiss.

Jungwoo thinks that for people who are trying to keep their not-so relationship-y relationship under wraps, you two are very loud.

Speaking of which, and despite the nature of your relationship, you and Haechan haven’t even discussed your label. You know that you aren’t friends with benefits—you haven’t crossed that line, but to be honest, those lines have been starting to look blurry for a while—but you also aren’t in a relationship. You see other people, you fuck other people, and when other people ask if you’re dating, you both deny it immediately. You’re just best friends, you both say each time like some rehearsed line, even if it breaks your heart to hear him friendzone you.

Karina and Mark even have an ongoing bet about you two. Karina is one-hundred positive there’s something going on, whereas Mark is probably the only person in the world that wants to give you guys the benefit of the doubt.

“For heaven’s sake, I can’t get any type of sleep around here,” Jungwoo rasps, leaning against the doorframe, “I really hope you guys don’t do this shit when Dohwan’s here.”

His judgmental eyes practically bore into your soul, and you thank heaven that you don’t have to worry about keeping this secret from Jungwoo, even if he would probably appreciate it more if you did. He finds you in a rather interesting position, straddling Haechan’s lap as you press kisses into his collarbone.

It’s all Haechan’s fault, really. Three years ago, Jungwoo made the mistake of walking inside Haechan’s bedroom without knocking, accidentally finding you two making out in a very touchy way on his bed because a certain someone didn’t think to lock the door. Not only did you ruin his quote-unquote innocence, but his perception of you forever, and ever since that ordeal, Jungwoo has never opened his stepbrother’s door without knocking. This time, it just so happened to be wide-open.

You bite your lip, feeling bad. Kim Dohwan is Haechan’s halfbrother of whom he babysits whenever available (and you like to tag on, because dealing with children is stressful and Haechan’s already stressed enough), and on weekdays Jungwoo has to wake up from his nap earlier to pick up the kid from school and bring him back home, then leave for work. You were too loud and disrupted the poor guy’s nap time.

“Oh,” Haechan says the syllable blankly, not too sympathetic, “did we wake you?”

“Of course not, I usually wake up at 2pm and take extra longs showers to start my day,” Jungwoo deadpans, “but whatever. I’m heading out. Don’t forget to go grocery shopping today.”

“Noted,” you and Haechan say simultaneously, gazing at one another and stifling giggles when you catch each other’s gaze. Jungwoo smiles at you, then flicks off his brother before parting.

When you’re both all alone again, a few seconds pass before Haechan’s eyes do that thing where they twinkle every time something catches his interest (or perhaps that’s the in love side of your brain making you see things.)

“Hey, you coming to Chenle’s Valentines Day party Monday?” You don’t know why he’s even asking, you follow Haechan everywhere he goes like a lost puppy. Maybe he’s discreetly asking you out. “Unless you’re actually busy, by the way, I hope you know you’re going. And maybe you’ll find some single pringle interested in a relationship. You can’t just kiss me forever, you know.” Oh. Well that eliminates that thought.

A part of you is yelling at you to decline, to lie and say that you actually have a dick or pussy appointment scheduled for the 14th, yet another is weak, in spite of you being aware of how this works. First of all, Valentine’s Day parties are mainly for single people who don’t have anything better to do, and each time one of you go to one, you end up meeting some stranger and hooking up with them. You know that’s more than likely what he’s going to do, and you aren’t strong enough to watch him flirt with other people.

You know how to put up a good front, though, so you’ll fake it until you make it.

“We can do a lot more than kiss,” you suggest with a wink.

Haechan grimaces, “No thanks. Now get off my lap.”

You frown, but climb off his lap nonetheless. “Wow,” you drag dramatically, “You’ll make out with me for what feels like hours, but sticking your dick in me is where you draw the line?”

“Precisely.”

You gasp in faux offense. “Oh, come on. Sex doesn’t seem so bad. Like, think of it as my pussy giving your dick a nice warm hug.”

Haechan’s at a lost for words, his face bright red. How do you even come up with this stuff? “Oh my god, are you coming or not?”

You joke, “I thought you said sticking your dick in me was where you draw the line?”

He shoots you a glare so sharp you’re sure that if you were still on his lap, he’d be barely resisting the urge to shove you off. You don’t miss the way his cheeks heat up, though.

Haechan groans exasperatedly, leaning back his gaming chair, “Y/n, seriously!”

“Fine!” resisting your best friend is literally impossible, you conclude, because you have officially caved in to his request—or, more or less, demand, rather, “fine, fine! I’ll go!”

“Great,” he grins with satisfaction, beaming with his thirty-two teeth, and you even see little gleams of smiles in his eyes, “anyway, Dohwan’s gonna be here soon, so let’s get ready to go shopping.”

You furrow your brows. You have a solid twenty minutes left, and all you really need to do is slip on your shoes.

“I need more Tootsie Pops,” Haechan adds, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense.

And you roll your eyes. “We’ll get you some more Tootsie Pops, but you better not ditch us for the candy aisle!”

“Of course, not,” he smiles, not even trying to sound or appear convincing. “I’d never leave you guys.”

That’s exactly what he does.

You aren’t even remotely surprised, though heavily disappointed when he announces in the middle of the thankfully empty cereal aisle that he’s going to find Tootsie Pops, managing to run off before you can even protest.

Gripping the shopping cart, you avert your gaze from the Cinnamon Toast Cruch boxes to his figure, almost missing him jog onto the following aisle. You shake your head, a small smile tugging your lips. If it were the end of the world, Haechan would stock up on those candies before he would even think to consider water.

“Auntie Y/N,” you aren’t quite adjusted to being addressed as an aunt, but you aren’t against it either. You have the image all put together—rich, thriving, and the kids adore you, “do you love my brother?”

That was perhaps the very last question you expected the six-year-old boy to ask you. Your eyes are a little wide, but it’s a kid, you remind yourself, so you shouldn’t be worried. But shit, then again, if a first-grader can figure it out, you’re fresh out of luck.

“Why do you think that?” You crouch down to be eye-level with him, having a feeling there’s some misunderstanding here. Dohwan’s bright for his age and doesn’t let anyone forget it, but you’ll be damned if he’s sniffed you out.

He makes a face. “I saw you kiss him, just like mommy and daddy do. And my mommy and daddy love each other very—” he stretches the vowel, and you can’t but giggle, “—much! That’s why they made me!” then he gasps, and you fear what it means, praying he doesn’t ask what you think he will. “Will you and my brother have a baby, too? I wan’ a new friend!”

On second thought, you think you’d rather he would’ve asked you what you thought he was. You nearly have a heart attack in the middle of the aisle, yet still, Dohwan gazes up at you with his innocent, sparkly eyes. You assume it’s in the blood; Jungwoo doesn’t have them, and he isn’t blood-related to Haechan, but Dohwan partially is, and the twinkle is promiment.

Calmly, you reply, “Don’t you already have a lot friends?”

He does, you both know it. You vaguely remember pulling up to his sixth birthday bash and being in shock of all the little kids jumping and flipping on the Spider-Man bouncy house. You haven’t been surrounded by that many children since, hell, probably since kindergarten.

“Yeah, but I wanna be a big brother,” he folds his tiny arms and pouts, “It’s not fair Hyuck and Woo get to be big, but I don’t!”

With minimum success, you manage to stifle your laugh, stretching out your arms to bring the little boy in for a hug, “You’ll be big one day. Trust me, you don’t wanna rush it.”

“And strong like Superman?”

“And strong like Superman,” you reassure, all smiley and convincing. “Now let’s go check up on your big brother, he’s taking too long.”

Dohwan rocks from side to side as he walks, murmuring some Nickelodeon TV show theme song, and you push the cart until you’ve reached your designation.

Quickly, you regret acting on your impatience. The scene taking place at the back of the aisle is anything but comforting—Haechan’s talking to some girl, whom of which is literally throwing herself onto him, and you can’t help but notice the way he wallows in the attention. For fucks sake, all the attention you give him and he doesn’t even give a fraction of it back! Then here comes this random girl from your campus.

Sometimes, you think about how you could do everything she’s doing right now—twirl your hair around your finger, be touchy with him, giggling girlishly at everything he says, funny or not—and yet he wouldn’t bat an eye, because you’re best friends and nothing more. Kissing each other breathless is already normalized between the two of you, what’s a little flirting.

Sometimes, you wish you hadn’t kissed your best friend that day. You’re both too comfortable, everything is too weightless. I love you, Haechan says it back without a thought. C’mere, he calls and pulls you onto his lap or cuddles you to death. Fuck, he—on very rare occasions when making out goes a little too far—groans into your ear, groping you a little. Scratch that. It may be weightless on his end, but it isn’t on yours, and everything has an everlasting effect on you.

“Auntie?”

When you look down at Dohwan, your gaze is so, so tired. Your eyes do the talking; you can’t move your lips.

He hugs your leg. “I love you.”

His face is pure, innocent, but he reads you so perfectly. The corners of your lips turn up, and you ruffle his hair, “Love ya, too. Let’s go get your brother, alright?”

He bounces eagerly, and you both begin to stroll down the aisle until you’re beside Haechan. You’re in a selfish mood today, so you think of some remark to make in the process.

“Nice Tootsie Pops, Bowlcut,” you mask your tiny emotional breakdown with a joke, “Hi, Faith.”

“Hope,” she corrects, evidently annoyed by your presence, though she doesn’t state it outright. “My name is Hope. And… bowl cut?”

“Interchangeable,” you dismiss her correction carelessly. In all honesty, you already knew her name, but you’re feeling like a bitter bitch currently, “and yeah, in high school Haechan had this hideous bowl cut that he—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Haechan grumbles, “that was four years ago!”

“And I’ll never forget,” you’re smiling blissfully, nostalgic. “Anyways, what’cha two doing?”

“We were catching up, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen Hope here,” you hear Hope snicker at this, and something about it is extremely off-putting. He turns to her, “So, I’m in a bit of a time crunch. Could I have your number?”

Ouch. Right in your face, literally.

She giggles some more, typing her number in his phone, and you try to focus on Dohwan so that you don’t cave into your desire to knock her upside the head. There’s already so much on your plate, you don’t need an assault charge.

She smiles, all bubbly and giddy. You know jealousy isn’t a good look, but it’s still pissing you off. “See you around?”

“See you around,” Haechan replies. She hugs him, not forgetting to shoot you a look from across his shoulder as she does, and only once satisfied does she turns on her heel, sashaying away.

“Didn’t know pussy was on the shopping list,” you sneer, relieved once she’s finally gone. Her presence was suffocating.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “at least I’m actually trying, I don’t know what you’re going to do when I’m cuffed down and—holy sh—I mean crap! You’re so quiet, I forgot you were here,” Haechan jumps, only noticing Dohwan when he pokes at his leg. “And don’t you dare make a cuff joke, y/n. Not in front of the kid.”

You yell in that defensive tone which is a tell-tale sign you’re lying, “I wasn’t gonna!”

Haechan gives you the look.

The we’re-best-friends, I-know-when-you’re-lying look.

And that look is utterly withering, so you decide you’re accepting defeat. “Okay fine, maybe I was thinking about it, but I wasn’t actually gonna say it. Not with him around.”

Haechan snorts, like you said something funny, but in reality he just doesn’t believe you. “Yeah, alright. Let’s finish shopping.”

You don’t argue, but there’s a lingering thought in your mind as you push the cart, rattling around in your brain still.

When he’s cuffed. Hmm. You can’t speak for him completely, but you both know how that one goes. When you get into a relationship, you think the person is great and they serve as a nice temporary distraction—that is, until you’re bored and realize no one will ever compare to Haechan, and especially not in the kissing department. So you break up, and then you go back to making out with Haechan, solidifying your suspicion that no one will ever replace your best friend. It’s the reason you don’t do relationships anymore, you feel bad for using people when you know it isn’t going to change a thing. It never does.

As far as your knowledge extends, things aren’t too different with Haechan. You and him don’t push things, you don’t pry too deep. There’s some unspoken boundary, and you know when to drop things. That’s why you both say the same thing each time you ask one another why you and whoever it was that you were previously seeing broke up—it wasn’t working out.

Like a moth to a flame, Haechan always finds his way back to you too, because apparently you’re the only person that can keep him tied down. You don’t think that’s the case, though. Your problem is you’re in love with your best friend, no matter how hard you try to suppress the feelings. His problem? You can’t be sure, but you’d guess commitment issues.

Whatever it is, and as selfish as it may sound, you want it to stay. He isn’t yours, but you like the comfort of knowing that he isn’t anyone else’s, either.

If Cupid had a human counterpart, it would be Na Jaemin in reincarnated form. He may not have wings nor a bow and arrow, but he does have dedication and a gigantic mouth.

“I can’t believe you called me over here for this,” you stand in an effort to leave, but Jaemin pulls you back down by your wrist, so you sigh, accepting that you’re stuck in the cafe and in the middle of a Jaem-terrogation.

“Not so fast, Sonic. You still haven’t answered my question. I don’t have all day, you know, I have other people’s business to be in,” he admits unabashedly, and you snort at his honesty.

Jaemin is an extremely shameless, extremely straightforward individual. He knows what he wants, how to get it, and the only time he’s afraid of letting someone know what he’s chasing for is when it interferes with his goal of obtaining said desire. He loves all things drama and gossip, and these are the lengths he’ll go to squeeze information out of you. No wonder he’s one of the writers for the campus newspaper.

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan,” you fiddle with your fork. “And even if I did, why would it matter? Haechan doesn’t have feelings for me, either.”

“Forgive me, but you’re a fucking dumbass,” Jaemin concludes, and you gasp in dramatic offense. “Why would I be here if he didn’t like you back, y/n? You know that he hasn’t had anyone over in two weeks? There’s like, three things at the top of Haechan’s list of shit he needs to survive, and that’s you, Tootsie Pops, and sex. Yet he’s gone two entire weeks without it. He likes you, really fucking bad.”

“Golly gee, Haechan hasn’t fucked anyone in two entire weeks. He must be head over heels in love with me,” you deadpan, ignoring how Jaemin rolls his eyes in response. “Be serious, Jaem. He literally got this girl’s number the other day. The man said himself that he doesn’t want to stick his dick in me. There’s nothing going on.”

Okay, so maybe Haechan is a raging sexaholic. Maybe he’s been a little horny recently. And maybe contact-full makeout sessions have been a reoccurrence in the past two weeks, but none of that matters, and he typically has extreme self control. Fresh as yesterday, he was definitely trying to get into Hope’s pants. It’s weightless, everything between you. It means absolutely nothing, and you’re trying to come to terms with the possibility that it never will. You wish your friends would accept the fact, too.

At least they don’t know you and Haechan make out, and have been for the past four years. They’d be insufferable, and you two would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Y/n, please. Your biggest competition is those damn Tootsie Pops.”

“And if you told him that he had to live without me or the candy, he’d choose them over me any day.”

“Actually, he’d tell me to fuck off—and stop asking him stupid questions. You can’t tell me I’m wrong because I’m speaking from experience,” Jaemin grins, “I pushed the question until he gave me a proper answer. He chose you, by the way.”

You groan into your hands, “Unless you have some other evidence to provide besides this stupid question and him not getting laid in two weeks, you’re wasting my time here, Cupid.”

Jaemin sighs, “I thought I could pressure you into admitting your feelings—”

“I don’t have feelings for Haechan!”

“—that you deny having, but I guess taking the high road doesn’t work. Don’t worry, I still have plan B. I mean, you should be worried, but it’s whatever.”

You blink. “Plan B?”

He ignores you, standing up and preparing to take his leave. You’re still curious about whatever his alternative, backup plan is however, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to tell you.

“Jaemin!” You shriek. “What are you talking about?”

“February 14th, Chenle’s party,” he answers vaguely, swinging his bag over his shoulders. “Be there, or be square. Whatever that means.”

He exits without another word, leaving you dumbfounded and with a sudden dread in your chest. They don’t… know, do they? No, of course not. How could they? You’ve been keeping this secret for nearly four years, and the only people that know are Jungwoo and Dohwan.

Great. Another reason to dread the fourteenth, and despise Cupid—and his human counterpart, your actual mortal enemy.

“I know you like Regina George, but the dress code is Cady Heron.”

Bummer. You didn’t exactly plan on attending as a sexy bunny in fishnets and knee-high boots, but you don’t intend on wearing a Party City outfit, neither. It’s only the 6th though, so you still have a week and some change to outfit plan.

You frown, “Why the change? None of his past parties have had much of a dress code.”

“Because Chenle is also stuck babysitting his baby brother on Valentine’s day while his parents are having a date night,” Haechan answers. “I’m not saying you have to dress like a prude, but don’t dress like a slut, either.”

Ignoring the insinuation behind his words, you don’t miss the fact he said also. “What do you mean also? Don’t tell me…”

“Exactly what you think. Dad is whisking my stepmom away on a romantic evening date to only God knows where, and Jungwoo is busy with his girlfriend, so me being the sole single-pringle in the family gave him the bright idea to have me baby sit,” he explains, though he doesn’t seem burdened by the task. “I don’t really mind, though. It’d be one thing if I planned on getting some pussy that night, but no one’s smashing at a party where there’s children. I hope not, at least.”

You wince at that. You hope not, too. It’s a setback that you have to re-plan your outfit, but on the plus side, Haechan can and will help you decide this time, even if you have to force him.

So that’s where you find yourself a couple hours later, your bedroom a mess as the aftermath of the meticulous care you’ve put into your self-styling. You’ve narrowed it down to two outfit selections; option A, the white crop-top with the cute pink pants; or option B, the pretty and red mini-dress with stilettos. It’s a little embarrassing that hours of your indecisiveness have led you to this conclusion, but you want to choose the perfect outfit that’s also not overbearing.

“And I have to help you why?”

“Because you’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends are for, duh.”

Haechan’s favorite thing about your place is you have all his utmost favorite games—and that literally everything there is like a piece of you, from the decoration to the smell of your perfume bottles you keep in your bathroom. He’d never tell you that, though—so he wasn’t too enthusiastic about being interrupted from his video-gaming session. But then, he realized he gets a special preview of your Valentine’s day outfit, and Haechan loves the way you dress, probably an abnormal amount. Slutty or prude-y.

“Then what’cha waiting for? Strip for me, princess,” he demands jokingly. It isn’t normal for you to feel bashful by anything a guy says, but everything is so different with Haechan. It’s the littlest, simplist things that drive you over the edge, that make you want him in ways you probably, scratch that, definitely shouldn’t.

And all the questions, assumptions, and rumors regarding your nonexistent relationship with Haechan aren’t exactly unwarranted. You two flirt and touch an abnormal amount, and while it’s common knowledge that Haechan is a touchy person, and you’re a natural flirt, people say it’s extreme between you two.

That makes you laugh. When it comes to the tension between you both that people speak of, you wish you could see what they see.

“You want to watch me strip?” You’re genuinely surprised, only the other day he seemed repulsed by the thought of you naked. “That’s new. I’m guessing you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, silently confirming what Jaemin told you at the cafe, but you shake the thought away, refusing to let it spur you on. It doesn’t mean anything. “Anyways. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before, baby girl. Now, you gonna strip or what?”

“I’m stripping, I’m stripping! Relax, Liam Payne!” It’s really nothing he hasn’t seen before, because Haechan’s seen naked girls, and he’s seen you half-naked before, so neither of you actually care. You peel off your top, slowly and in a strip tease sort of way and look him in the eye, giggling once you catch him shaking his head. You don’t repeat the movement with your shorts though, simply taking them off and picking up your new shirt to slip it off the hanger.

Successfully discreet, Haechan wallows in the sight of you half-naked for as long as he can before you’re slipping on the crop top and the pink pants. Now that he thinks about it, he bought you those pants, and darn do they make your ass look good. Then he realizes he’s thinking about your ass and taking not as discreet looks at it, and shakes the thought away.

“So?” Your voice cuts through the silence. “What do you think?”

He needs a moment to gather himself and recollect his thoughts, because he feels like turning on Destiny’s Child’s Bootylicious and if spoke his mind he would definitely say something he’d regret. Like, I could fuck the shit out of you. He doesn’t think he should say that.

“What do you mean, what do I think? I bought you those pants, I’d be damned if I thought you didn’t look good in them,” Haechan supplies, making you roll your eyes in response.

“Very underwhelming reaction. I wanted you to fall out on the floor and pass out for a few seconds with your hand on your chest,” you pout.

“Definitely not doing all that,” he chuckles. “But you do look good enough for… somebody to do it. Anyways, it’s stripping time again. Get in that dress for me, princess.”

If he doesn’t stop with the pet names you’re going to combust. You hide it though, taking off outfit option A and putting on option B. You feel confident in your appearance, with or without him, but the way Haechan’s practically gawking at you does boost said confidence.

“What about this one?”

Okay, so Haechan’s one-hundred percent biased in his decision—or maybe he isn’t, since he didn’t buy this outfit—though nonetheless, he loves this dress on you. In his personal opinion, you’ll look good in anything you wear, but the way this particular dress hugs your figure perfectly is a bonus. He knows all eyes are going to be on you the moment you step inside Chenle’s house, and maybe he’s going to have to keep you and Dohwan close to his side.

Rather than replying verbally, Haechan walks forward and pulls you into a kiss. His hands dip around your waist, skirting the area until he’s gripping you like he’s afraid of letting go.

And as always, you melt into his lips. Like ice to the sun, or wax to a flame. It’s the umpteenth kiss in your whole lifetime, but Haechan always makes it feel like the first time. Like two love-struck highschoolers, except with a lot more experience. Haechan kisses you like he loves you, and you hate it. You might even loathe it.

His fingers slip down your hips, to your revealed thighs, like he just so happens to know that’s one of your weak spots. Luckily you’ve learned some of his weak spots too, and not really thinking, you don’t hesitate to aim for his most sensitive one - his neck. You can’t get used to how beautiful he sounds as he moans, your lips pressing into his sweet spot and leaving undoubtedly a mark.

“Fuck,” Haechan moans, “you’re my kryptonite, you know that?”

“A kiss is all it takes for you to fold?” You gasp out with a smirk.

“Shut up.”

Your grin widens. “Make me.”

Just as he leans in, about to pin you down to your duvet and kiss the life out of you while you’re thinking that maybe this is the tension people speak of, his phone rings in his back pocket. It feels like snapping out some trance or spell, like a reverse Cupid’s arrow, and he instantly backs off of you.

He takes a look at his phone screen. “I um, I gotta take this.”

Biting your lip, you nod. “Okay.”

“You look great though,” he comments, and you smile thinly at him as he slips from between your fingertips yet again.

It seems that you’re left all alone, pathetically wet, and wondering if that person on the other line is Hope - but you try to shake that thought off.

Sighing, you flop against your sheets. Love is some extremely cruel, extremely rigged game that only lucky people win, and it seems that Luck has sided with the evil that is Cupid. You’ve been dealt cards, and Haechan refuses to show you his hand. All you can do is watch it play out.

Haechan knew that something was dangerously off when Jaemin bought him a brand-new bag of Tootsie Pops without being asked, and invited you over for a movie night with the guys, offering to open up with you and Haechan’s all-time favorite movie, Mean Girls. He even offered to play The Kissing Booth next! Everyone else instantly protested of course, but the fact he offered in the first place is borderline suspicious.

Sure, Jaemin’s not the devil or anything, depending on who you ask. He’s… kind, and he can be a sweetheart. But Jaemin does nothing for free, and Haechan can’t shake the thought that this is planned bribery. And it isn’t hush-money. Jaemin doesn’t buy silence, he buys words.

By the time Jaemin asks Haechan to help him with the popcorn, he’s ninety-nine point nine percent sure that something is definitely wrong here. Yet still, he follows him into the kitchen.

“Alright, what’s up man?” Haechan wastes zero time, wanting to get to the bottom of all this. “I know you want something out of me. There’s no other reason you would offer to play The Kissing Booth, or buy me Tootsie Pops for free.”

Jaemin scoffs, but he doesn’t try to front, “Glad you know. Since we’re on the same page, let’s address this thing with you and y/n.”

“That’s what this is about?” Haechan grumbles. “I’ve told you, I don’t have feelings for her!” He whisper-yells.

Jaemin has heard that far too many times for it to be convincing. He’s positive that even Helen Keller herself could tell you two are hopelessly in love. Takes one to know one, he thinks. It seems the three of you must be blind, because you and Haechan are oblivious to your feelings for one another, and it’s painfully obvious.

“And Mary wasn’t a virgin,” Jaemin says ironically, making Haechan roll his eyes. “If you’re not in love with her, then explain what the hell is going on between you two. I know that she’s your best friend or whatever, but you don’t act like it at all. From a fresh perspective, someone would totally think you’re in love.”

Haechan hates that he’s right. It doesn’t make sense the amount of times you’ve gone to public places and had cashiers refer to you as a couple, or elderly people ask you if you’re together. Because you’re not. You’re best friends, and even if Haechan wants to be more than that, that’s his label. And he’s sure he’s stuck with it for life.

“You’re fucking Hope to distract yourself from your feelings for y/n,” Jaemin adds, and it’s a statement, not a question.

“I’m not—”

“You are,” Jaemin interjects. “Head over heels, in love with a girl you think doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, and you’re also being an ass to her, whether you know it or not.”

If Haechan was in a situation where he needed to simplify the reason you two click so well, he’d say chalk it up to compatibility and say it’s because you’re like a mirror of one another. Which also means he knows you, better than anyone else even, and he knows neither of you do the whole catching feelings things anymore. You like to fuck and flirt, and fuck some more, to avoid the fact that you love too hard. If you fuck people whose names you don’t even remember, it doesn’t mean a darn thing that you two make out.

No one really knows about that part yet. But they do know that you like to fuck, and that’s why Haechan thinks that if he’s an ass, then that means so are you. What the fuck is he doing that you aren’t?

Even if he is an ass, what is he supposed to do? He’s only recently realized that damn, he actually does have feelings for you, which is where Hope comes along and yes, he is fucking her to distract himself from you. So what? It’s not like it’s working, he’s still stuck on you, obsessed with the thought of you, craving your touch and the sound of your voice. He still loves you, and it’s so scary because no matter what his friends say, he thinks they don’t know you or your relationship like he does. They think they do, but they don’t.

“I’m not in love,” Haechan lies through his teeth, “maybe I’m in like.”

Jaemin snorts. In like? That’s the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. Not in love his fucking ass. “You’re in denial, that’s what you are.”

Haechan grumbles, trying desperately not to raise his voice so that the others don’t hear him from the living room, “Even if I did like her—and I’m telling you, I don’t—it wouldn’t change anything because she doesn’t like me.”

“You two are the same breed of oblivious and stupid,” Jaemin takes the popcorn out of the microwave, pouring it all into a bowl. He’s even laughing, much to Haechan’s confusion, but he’s apparently unbothered by Haechan’s lack of confession, “but fine. Lie to my face. I still have a backup plan.”

“A back-up plan?” Haechan repeats, lost.

“I just thought it would be nice of me to try and get you to confess before I have to work a Valentine’s day miracle, but unfortunately you two are a match made in heaven—both terribly stubborn,” Jaemin says vaguely, not really answering Haechan’s question, “so I guess we’ll all know the truth at Chenle’s party.”

Jaemin exits with the popcorn bowls before Haechan can even part his lips to ask another question, and he stands there, shocked and unsure of how to react. He’s concerned, though. Jaemin has something cooking (besides the popcorn), and he isn’t sure what, but it’s Na fucking gossiping blabbermouth Jaemin. That means it can’t be anything good.

So apparently when you and Haechan had that heated makeout session the other day, you left a trail - or in other words, you marked his neck the fuck up.

You hadn’t noticed because he covered it up with concealer, but you’re in the middle of another one of those when he stops you, preventing you from repeating your mistake.

“You can’t do that. People will see,” Haechan frowns. You wonder what’s the problem with hickeys. Is he embarrassed? No way. Haechan? Embarrassed? About hickeys? He has much bigger fish to fry.

In contrast, you’re over the moon. Even if he isn’t yours, marking him up makes you feel like he belongs to you. Plus, other people will see, and they’ll know that he isn’t theirs, either. Haechan also has a beautiful neck, you realize as you stare at his skin. It makes you wonder if there’s anything about him that isn’t beautiful.

“Would that be so bad?” You ask. “You’d look sexy all marked up by me.”

Haechan groans, “Do you ever think with your head and not your pussy?”

��I wish my pussy was my head. My head’s just so full of you,” you sigh dramatically.

It’s rare for Haechan to blush, but you somehow manage to make him full-on flush sometimes and you take that as an achievement. It’s partially the reason you love flirting with him so much, he’s so reactive. His reactions are cute sometimes.

“Be serious for 5 seconds,” he whines, and you giggle.

“I was serious,” you insist, “but fine, I’ll think with my head since yours is clearly not working. No one’s gonna assume they’re from me, Hyuck. Just tell them they’re from one of your hoes.”

“I know, but it’s not them I’m worried about. It’s, um…” he trails off.

You’re confused, blinking. If not your friends, then who on earth—oh, for fucks sake.

“It’s Hope,” you utter tonelessly.

“Yeah, uh, yeah,” he wonders why you suddenly sound so dry, and then the whole grocery shopping thing seeps back into his mind. You obviously don’t like Hope, and it’s not just you, really. Lots of people don’t like her. But Haechan needs a pretty face to compete with the image of yours in his head, even if it isn’t winning. “She kinda likes me, and—”

“Do you like her?” You don’t mean to ask so fast. It slips, like your mouth has a mind of its own.

Haechan shrugs. No, he doesn’t like her. He likes you, but he thinks that maybe he can somehow convince himself it’s the other way around. So he replies, “Maybe.”

Fuck. You try not to appear suddenly devoid of life, forcing a cheery smile. “That’s… nice,” you lie through your teeth. “Let me take this opportunity to have one last kiss before I possibly never will again?”

Haechan snickers, to silently say as if. He isn’t wrong for it, either. One kiss is never one kiss with him — never has been, never will be. There’s a reason you both bonded over bombing a math exam.

D-day rolls around, and you’re eyeing your frame in your full-length mirror, smoothing your palms over your dress as you give yourself a quick once-over before the clock strikes 7PM. You look like that bitch, and everyone in that party is going to fucking know it because you’re going to walk in there like that bitch. Fuck Cupid. You don’t need his stupid bow. And fuck Haechan, too. He’s your ride, but he’s gonna ditch you at some point in the party like he always does. It’ll be no different now, and this time, you’ll be the first one to leave.

The chime of the doorbell jolts you from your mental slumber, and you quickly reach for your purse then head towards the door with a heavy heartbeat. You know he’s already seen you in this dress, he chose it for fucks sake, but there’s something else that gets your heart racing—no. You can’t think about him. Fuck Haechan, remember? He’s no good for you.

“Here goes nothing,” you mutter to yourself, palm on the doorknob, “you can do this.”

Haechan’s sucks in a breath the moment you open the door. You look gorgeous. You always do, but in this particular moment, you look better than you ever have before. Those corny romance sayings usually make him laugh with mirth, but he’s genuinely convinced you look better everyday that he sees you. All dressed up like this, or not.

“You look so pretty, Auntie!” Dohwan beats him to a compliment.

You bend down to ruffle the boy’s hair, “Thank you, Dohwan. You look very handsome.” And then you look at Haechan.

He looks handsome as well, unfortunately. Jet black hair, exposed forehead, and his outfit is black with red hearts in the center of the shirt. You try not to pay him too much mind, but your heart and the place between your thighs don’t seem to agree with your mind. He catches you looking at him, and feels a twinge of anxiousness in his heart. Get it together, man, he tells himself. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t get nervous looking at pretty girls. Lee Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate about his actions, either, wondering if he should hold your hand, he doesn’t rethink what he should say. It all comes to him naturally.

“Yeah, you look beautiful,” he settles, mentally cursing himself for being unable to think of anything else. He blames you. Ever since you first snuck in his mind, you’ve been living rent-free there, and make it hard to think about anything else sometimes. That’s why he thought that needed distractions.

If you could relay the message to your heart, you’d tell it stop beating. Instead, you mask your emotion, smiling. “Thank you, likewise. Now c’mon, we gotta get there by 7:30!”

Haechan’s saddened by the dismissal, but you don’t catch his face as you walk to his car.

If you ignore him, you can do this.

Haechan cannot do this.

Something isn’t right. It wasn’t right the second he noticed you gave him a simple, rushed compliment, not bothering to make some sexual remark that usually makes Haechan’s cheeks feel like fire. You didn’t even kiss him before you got in the car. And Haechan’s sure you’ve been avoiding him like the plague, scurrying off and getting lost in the red and pink sea before he could even ask you if you wanted to check out the drink menu.

He doesn’t know where you are, and that haunts him. Turns out Chenle is paying Yangyang, Ten and Jisung to keep the kids entertained on one end of the house, whilst the adults do adult-y things on the other. You could be with someone else for all he knows, hell, you probably are. He was practically fuming when he saw some people staring at you as you walked in.

“Uh oh, I think y/n divorced Haechan,” Chenle jokes, and a choir of laughs follows suit.

Haechan grumbles, “A guy can’t miss his girl best friend?”

“Of course, you can,” Chenle drawls, “but everyone knows she’s more than just a friend to you. Like even if you aren’t together, there’s no way you guys don’t have feelings for each other.”

“Right? And they’re so cute together, too. A literal match made in heaven by angel Cupid,” Jaemin agrees, speaking as though Haechan isn’t right there.

“You’re dating y/n?” gasps Karina, overhearing Jaemin much to Haechan’s dismay. Oh, great, she’s as much as a blabbermouth as he is. The whole world’s going to think Haechan’s dating you in five minutes or less.

“No!”

“Yes, he is, spread the word,” Jaemin says, already knowing he doesn’t have to tell her. Karina’s mumbling I knew it under her breath before jogging somewhere.

“You know,” Haechan starts, downing a shot because if he’s not at least tipsy he’s going to die at this party, “she’s been making me watch murder documentaries with her and I’ve definitely picked up a thing or two. I’d be careful.”

Jaemin scoffs, “Please. You’re going to be kissing my ass and the ground that I walk on by the time this party’s over.”

There it goes. Haechan wonders what’s so special about tonight that Jaemin’s been hinting at vaguely. It’s been keeping him on his toes, but he doesn’t ask because he knows Jaemin, and he isn’t going to tell him a thing. The one time this guy wants to keep something secret.

An hour flies by, and Haechan still hasn’t seen you. He’s looked for you, and refuses to believe his eyes are somehow missing you, even though you’re in a crowd. He literally went up the stars and gazed over the railing for a better view, and you were no where to be found. You’ve refused to answer your phone, too, and Haechan doesn’t know what to do. He would just start talking to some random chick, but that’s not what Haechan wants. He doesn’t want some random chick. He wants to be with you. Hold you. Touch you. Kiss you, with no shame, no fear, in front of everyone, and he isn’t in denial about it. He wants you.

And Jaemin is fed up.

“Alright, I’m tired of you moping around drinking like a divorced man. Let’s go to the kitchen,” Jaemin suggests. Or commands, but still.

Haechan quirks a brow. “Where there’s nothing but more drinks?”

“Trust me, I’m not letting you drink anymore tonight. You have a wife and a kid to drive home,” Jaemin jokes. Usually he’d deny any sort of relationship with you that isn’t best-friendship, but Haechan simply shakes his head, following his friend and roommate into the kitchen.

Then he sees you, and his jaw doesn’t just drop, but it falls flat on the ground, bounces a little, and comes back down. You’re clinging to Chenle’s side with a confused face, equally as surprised to see him, though not very delighted.

“What’s going on?”

You stare at one another.

“Stop copying me!”

Jaemin and Chenle stare at one another, then stare at you two staring at one another, and stare at one another again.

“I hate to interrupt your… stare-off, but there’s a reason we brought you two here,” Jaemin interjects, making you two finally split gazes as you stare at him, confused.

“Which is?”

You glare at him. Jaemin’s success was short-lived, it seems.

“Drum roll, please,” he says, and Chenle begins tapping against the counter, “Dohwan!”

Suddenly, Dohwan pops up from around the corner. He’s on the completely wrong side of the house, and while he’s under adult supervision, you still wonder why he’s here.

You blink. “What’s he doing here?”

Jaemin smirks. “I’m glad you asked. Dohwan tells me he’s witnessing some very interesting sights of the two of you. Go ahead and tell us what you saw, kiddo.”

“I saw Haechan and Auntie y/n kissing, like mommy and daddy do!” Dohwan shares, grimacing in disgust. If you weren’t practically fearing for your life right now, you’d probably laugh at his reaction.

“And how often do you see this?” Chenle adds.

“Um…” the kid ponders, “every time Auntie y/n comes over. I heard them say they wanted to keep it a secret from me, but they’re not very good at it.”

Haechan shoots you a panicked look, and you’re wearing the exact same one. By the time you realize that this is what Jaemin’s been hinting at this whole time, it’s much too late. Your secret has been exposed to the worst people ever, and now they’re definitely going to think you’re dating.

“Thank you for your input, Dohwan,” Jaemin smiles, then turns to look at you and Haechan. You’re both frozen and stiff, unsure of how to respond. “So, anything to say about this?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Haechan’s quick to say. You hope no one catches the way your face falters with hurt for a split second. “If you want me to be honest, then fine, I will. Yeah, we kiss. We’ve been kissing since high school, but it didn’t mean anything then and it doesn’t mean anything now. We just, I don’t know, do it for fun.”

Chenle deadpans, “So you just kiss for pure, innocent fun.”

“Exactly,” Haechan nods. “It means nothing.”

It means something to me, you think to yourself, and when you notice the silence in the room, you gaze up to see everyone’s eyes on you, Haechan’s a little wide. Oh, fuck.

“I said that aloud, didn’t I?”

“Yep,” Jaemin grins. He was right. “Is there something you want to share with the class?”

Stupidly, you decide to look at Haechan, and he’s re-lost his composure, frozen up and stiff all over again. Your heart is pounding harder than it has been all night. It’s partially the alcohol, but you can feel it in your veins and all around you. It won’t leave you alone, and looking at Haechan, it’s faster, as if to say he’s the one I want.

So you choose to make another decision that you might possibly regret, but you have to get this off your chest. It isn’t news to anyone but Haechan anyways.

“Donghyuck,” you start, and he knows it’s getting serious because you just said his government name. You literally never call him by his government name. “I know we agreed to keep things platonic, and for it to mean nothing, but I want you. Like really, really bad. I think I—no, everyone’s right, I really am, extremely in love with you. If you don’t feel the same I understand, I just had to get this off my che—”

You aren’t given the chance to finish before Haechan swoops you in his arms, reaching for your waist as he pulls you into a kiss. There’s a chorus of cheers from Chenle and Jaemin, followed by a shriek of disgust from Dohwan as he covers his eyes, but you two aren’t trying to hide anymore, you want to scream from the rooftops that you’re in love. Yes, the infamous Lee Donghyuck and y/n know more than flirting and fucking. You’re in love, drunk off of a sip of it and the taste of Haechan’s lips, and god, has kissing your best friend never felt better.

“Let’s give the newlywed couple some privacy now,” Jaemin says with a grin. Gosh, he really is the spawn of Cupid, but you have to thank him. This wouldn’t be happening if it wasn’t for his stupid ‘gotcha!’ plan. “You two work this out.”

The three of them pile out, and you and Haechan part from one another to breathe. You stay in comfortable silence for a moment, his hands slipping into yours.

“Your hands are sweating,” you comment after a while.

“It’s hot.”

“It’s the middle of February.”

“So? Global warming is real, you know,” Haechan shrugs, refusing to acknowledge the fact that his hand is sweating because he’s nervous. He’s accepted that you make him feel all warm inside and his heart feel like mush, but he still isn’t used to not hiding the way you make him feel.

You laugh but don’t press things. “Newlywed couple, huh. Can’t be, you still haven’t popped the question.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, too. “Then will you take my hand in marriage and take me as your illegally wedded husband?”

You hum, pretending to contemplate, “Hmm, I don’t know. You sure you don’t wanna marry a giant cardboard Tootsie Pop cutout? Or what about that girl? What happened to her, by the way, I thought you said you liked her.”

Haechan groans, not really wanting to think about her right now, “No more Hope. Ironically, she’s a lost cause. I had to cut shit with her because she can’t comprehend what a fling is. She wanted a relationship, and you know, I lied to you when I said that I might want her. I didn’t know you liked me back until, like, now, so I was just saying shit in hopes of convincing myself I could stop liking you. That planned failed, though.”

His words lift a massive weight off of your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe now. Take that, bitch, you think with a smirk. She was giggling in your face so hard at the grocery store, but you’re having the last laugh.

You tilt your head. “What about the Tootsie Pops?”

“Yeah, sorry but I can’t give them up as easily. Would you mind a Tootsie Pop bouquet?”

Gosh, this is the man you love. You roll your eyes, but smile as you reply, “You know, you’re like a Tootsie Pop.”

If Haechan were a dog, his ears would perk up right now. “How come?”

“I’ll never know how long I’ll be able to kiss you without wanting to fuck you,” you lean in his ear to purr, voice tickling his neck. You eye it and his lips, and lord knows you can’t wait to finally be able to mark him up again.

“Yeah? Wanna go home, put Dohwan to sleep, and let me take this dress off you?” He grips at your waist, his hand resting there with the burning urge to dip lower. He bites his lip.

“Thought you drew the line at sticking your dick in me,” you joke.

“That was when I was in denial about wanting you,” Haechan whispers, “but now I can admit to myself that even though you amazing in this dress, I wanna take it off of you. Your body’s perfect.”

“I kinda hate the scar on my thigh.”

“Don’t. It provides depth to your character. It makes someone wonder how you got it, the story of how it happened,” he answers, ever so deeply.

“Poetic,” you snort, “can’t tell if you’re giving me Bruno Mars or John Legend vibes more right now.”

Haechan rolls his eyes, smiling. “You said you’d never know how long you’d be able to kiss me without dying to fuck me, right?”

“I never said dying.”

He ignores you, “Then let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

Your lips wind up pressed firmly to his, with your hands on his cheek and his palms on your hips yet again. It’s fiercer than ever, Haechan’s kissing you like he doesn’t want to let you breathe, like he wants to stay in this moment with you forever. He kisses you with love and lust, with passion and desire, with emotion and no more fear in his chocolate-y eyes. You don’t regret kissing Haechan that day. It took a while, but it brought you to this moment where you can finally call him yours. And that one more kiss stuff is bullshit. His lips are yours and vice versa, and as you’re by each other’s side, you’ll never stop kissing him. And he’ll never stop kissing you.

“They’re here!” Karina suddenly bursts into the kitchen, pointing at you and Haechan. “Look! I told you they were dating!”

Oh, god. You totally forgot about Karina’s stupid bet with Mark. Mark looks entirely devastated and surprised, devastated because that’s twenty-five bucks gone from his wallet, and surprised because he genuinely believed you and Haechan have been best friends this whole time. Technically, he isn’t wrong, but you’re not sure if you want to interrupt to tell them that.

Mark whines, “Oh, c’mon! I really thought you guys were just friends.”

“Pay up, loser,” Karina smirks, and with a pout, Mark pulls cash from his pockets.

Haechan looks at you, and while you don’t say anything, you can tell you’re both thinking the exact same thing. The whole campus is about to know you two are dating. Karina’s for sure going to tell everyone she knows, hell, probably even people she doesn’t know, and there’s a ninety-nine point nine percent chance of Jaemin raining your business on everyone in his latest report for the school newspaper.

You can’t say that you care, though. This is what you wanted, to unashamedly love Haechan, to be able to state it proudly in front of everyone, to let everyone know, to claim him as yours and yours only. So fuck Cupid. Fuck his bow, fuck his arrow, because this relationship is all a product of you and Haechan’s hard work and dedication.

Who needs Cupid’s bow when you have tasty lips and Tootsie-Pops?

“You’re telling me you’ve been in love with me for the past four years? Oh, you’re a soldier. I would have given up in the first month.”

You snort. Part of becoming Haechan’s girlfriend is the process of telling one another the secrets you’ve been keeping, such as how long you can been in love. Haechan’s been in love with you for a solid year, he thinks, maybe two, but it’s been almost four years for you, on the other hand.

“If only it were that easy,” you sigh. “Trust me, I tried getting over you by getting under other people—how Jessie Reyez of me—but that didn’t work out, obviously.”

“You are too much like me,” Haechan shakes his head. “What made you think we should anyways?”

“You mean, four years ago, or now?”

Haechan shrugs. “Either. Give me three reasons.”

“Oh, brace yourself. I could do a presentation on this. One, we know each other’s McDonald’s orders. Two, like you said, we’re very alike. When have we ever argued over pizza toppings?” You reason. “Three, I can’t imagine kissing anybody else. I mean, we’ve basically been practicing on each other for the past four years. I’m the reason you can kiss so good, it would insane for you make out with other people. Four, I have a fat ass and sometimes I catch you staring at—”

“I said three reasons!” Haechan cries, face blooming red as a rose.

“I could go for a fifth,” you grin, “we’re both terrible at math.”

“Damn right we are,” he mutters. “But that’s what makes us… us, isn’t it? The only reason we’re dating right now is because we couldn’t resist kissing each other after one time.”

He’s right. It practically only took one kiss to fall in love with Haechan. He’s giving you major Dua Lipa vibes right now.

“I know you’re thinking about that Dua Lipa song right now.”

You smirk. “You know me very well.”

He tilts his head. “And what else are you thinking about?”

“That you look like all I need,” you say in tune, making Haechan laugh. “And I just want to feel your skin on mine.”

“Then we should do something about that, right?” Haechan smirks back.

You’re kissing the smirk right off his lips seconds later, and this is where you decide that you just can’t get enough of him. Even if one kiss is all it takes, you’re greedy for more, and more, and more, until both your lips are swollen and you’re both gasping for air.

#haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #haechan x reader #nct imagines #haechan imagines #lee haechan smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

923 notes · View notes

taexoxosgf · 9 months

Text

THIS DECEMBER

PAIRING park jisung x fem!reader | ft. friendgroup!nct dream

WORDS 5k

SYNOPSIS Your horny friends try to pull a little prank on you in the days leading up to Christmas. One thing Park Jisung likes to remind them is: he totally doesn’t want any part in it. Except, he totally does.

WARNINGS smut, ANGST, fluff, lots of dialogue, vag fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, vanilla vanilla vanilla, they're in love basically

NOTES I have to admit, this isn’t my best work lolllllll. though this was supposed to be posted on christmas, this can be my new years gift! 2024 here we come babyyy

★ Part of A Dreamy Christmas Collab!

“Why don’t we all be her secret Santa?”

“What are you talking about?” Jaemin chuckles, eyes dancing as he seems intrigued by the idea. But what pervades his mind was nothing like what Donghyuck was about to propose.

“Think about it…” he trails. “She used to say, if it’s an SOS, and we need help in that department,” he points to his crotch– “She would help us out.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” Jisung rolls his eyes when he catches on to Hyuck’s sudden idea.

“So you’re saying we all get her a present?” Chenle asks.

“Yes… But we all have to give her the same… present,” he walks between each of the men like a devil hovering over their shoulders.

“Hyuck, just get to the point,” Jeno huffs.

“Okay, bu–”

“No ‘buts!’ Get to your point,” Renjun groans.

“The gift we’re giving her can’t be put into a shitty little box.”

“Oh my god, NO!” Mark whines.

“What’s so wrong with a little fun?”

“Are you seriously suggesting an… orgy?”

“No, you idiot,” Hyuck pinches his nose bridge. “Let’s all give her our present one by one leading up to Christmas… Like an advent calendar,” he shrugs, unable to hide the pride beaming off of him from the simile.

“So you’re suggesting we all have sex with her in the days leading up to Christmas? Am I hearing this right?” Jaemin intervenes once more, orbs gleaming with interest.

“Ding Ding! We have a winner!”

“Jisung’s right. You’ve gone insane,” Renjun fully laughs.

“You know I’m insane, and that’s why we have fun. But you know what? Let’s make this more interesting… When we tell her after Christmas, the person who she says is her best fuck, get’s her secret Santa present,” Hyuck smirks. “You know she goes all out.”

“I’m in, but it might be hard for Mark because he’s actually in love with her,” Jaemin turns his body towards his friend who avoids eye contact before offering a retort.

“Why just me? You guys are all in love with her!” His claim is met with a group of huffs and groans.

“How do you know she’ll even agree to this?” Jeno points out, earning a nod from the others.

“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. If she does, then great! Amazing even! But if she doesn’t, then man, I feel kinda bad because we all got a thing for her.” Hyuck accepts the facts of the predicament. “Hopefully we can laugh about this on New Years.”

“I don’t. I guess I’m the only one,” the youngest of the group speaks out but it’s not taken seriously by his older friends as a fit of laughter echoes within the small space.

Hyuck’s the first one to speak– placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, “You’re the worst out of all of us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You guys always bicker and talk shit but I know all you want to do is rip each other’s clothes off,” Jeno jumps in. “Nice try though. I almost believed it.”

“I’m not! She’s annoying as hell!”

“So annoying you want to fuck it out of her, right?” Jaemin joins.

“You guys are jumping me right now, I’m leaving,” Jisung excuses himself earning a look of victory from his friends.

“Wait! So you agree to it, right? Jisung?! Hello?” Chenle and Renjun yell out in unison, but the only reply heard is the slam of a door.

“You’re serious about this Hyuck?” Mark asks one last time.

“No, but this is just so those two kids will finally admit they’re down bad for each other. I think this will be their breaking point.”

“Damn,” all the other boys yell in unison.

“I know right? Someone needs to hire me for something! I don’t know for what, but something!” he crosses his arms to bask in his actions.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mark laughs at his friend. “You’re so dumb.”

“Just wait and see. He won’t make it to Christmas…”

Everyone is being… weird.

On the very first day of December, you and all your friends come together to pick a name out of a jar. The game of Secret Santa is an annual tradition you love partaking in. But once the weather dropped thirty degrees, all the boys started acting shady. They were canceling plans with you on purpose, avoiding eye contact when you spoke to any one of them, and just running away the first chance they got. It was easy to get mad, even call them out for it, but the replies would always be the same– that there was nothing wrong or they were just tired.

And you’re not going to lie, it was starting to make your skin crawl. The sudden shift in dynamic between you and the boys has you wondering if you did something wrong. But if they were trying to pull something, then they had another thing coming. It was frustrating, trying to shake it out of them in every way possible, but no one would budge.

December eighth rolls around and you know everyone is free today because you all collectively promised Sunghoon that every year until the day you die, this day will always be open for him. It’s always an annual trip to the snowy mountains– a secluded cabin and powdery snow that’s fit for snowboarding. Surprisingly, but not so surprisingly, everyone’s busy up until the car ride to the cabin.

Their persistent avoidance, even for an event like this, just pulls on the strings even harder.

You’re leaning against the island of the kitchen, glaring into their souls from across the room as the music's bass reverberates throughout the warm cabin; and the bitter liquid in your plastic cup disappears like water down a drain.

“Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

You turn to the voice, sporting a grin once you realize who it is. “Hey, birthday boy. Just glaring at the boys. Don’t know if they notice though,” you squint a little harder, hoping they’ll finally notice.

Sunghoon’s orbs follow the seven of them scattered around the living room. “They notice alright. I’m sure they’ll come crawling back when they realize you don’t play.”

“Oh, they know I don’t. But they’re still gonna try anyway,” you let out a heavy sigh. “I just wish I knew what they’re up to. It’s killing me.”

“Just ask Jisung.”

“Why Jisung?” The mention of your friend’s name causes the subject of your orbs to shift to him, but he’s already looking your way. When you make eye contact, he hurriedly glances away, confirming the suspicion that something’s up.

“I feel like whatever they’re planning, he’s telling them he doesn’t want to do it.”

“Why is that so detailed? Do you know what they’re up to? Spill right now!”

Sunghoon shakes his head in denial, raising the cup to his lips before responding. “Nah, you guys are always going at it. That’s all. It’s just a hunch.”

“Fine, maybe I will. But I was gonna do it anyway.”

You’re already making your way towards Jisung when Sunghoon blurbs out. “If it doesn’t work, I’m always available.”

“You wish, Park.” But you stop in your tracks. “Wait, what?”

Sunghoon walks off in a hurry, “Nothing! Had to try at least once!”

Rolling your eyes at the birthday boy, you finally make your way to your destination but all seven of your friends go completely mute once you reach it. There’s not a sound emitting from them, and it practically forces smoke out of your ears.

“Okay, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Jeno murmurs.

“You guys have been ignoring me ever since December started! Spill your evil plans right now!”

“Nothing’s going on,” Chenle adds, but it’s met with a crack of his voice at the final word, and you know one hundred percent they're lying.

“Haechan! I know you’re the mastermind,” you turn to your friend, but all he does is shrug, eyes still looking everywhere but yours as he nonchalantly sips from his drink.

“Nothing whatsoever. We’ve just been busy that’s all,” Jisung speaks out, but you chuckle, knowing he’ll eventually give in if you press him hard enough.

“Of course, you’re a part of this! Sunghoon told me you weren’t, but I doubted him as soon as those words left his mouth!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung’s tone changes, as if he’s warning you.

“That little shithead!” Jaemin groans.

“I knew it!” you exclaim.

“What did he tell you?” Renjun interrupts.

“Nothing, just what I said before.”

“Nothing is going on. You don’t believe us?” Jisung is still firm on his decision to make you believe otherwise. With that stupid smirk he’s trying to hide and how his form influences you to shift back.

“Of course, you’re still on that even though Jaemin just admitted you guys are planning something! You’re the worst!”

“And you’re a dumbass,” Jisung mumbles once you turn away.

“Look who’s fucking talking,” you don’t realize you’re stepping closer at every syllable exchanged and you don’t know why your friend loves to push your buttons so much.

“You always say I’m the worst and then you come right back. I don’t think you hate me as much as you say you do,” Jisung’s eyes glimmer with a playfulness to them, closing the space between the two of you as the bickering reaches its climax. But his words only fuel your rage.

At this point, you can only see red.

All you do with Jisung is bicker or fight about stupid shit. Your friendship with the other boys is the glue that holds you and Jisung together. No one could guess that you met all the boys through him. You both had been friends with benefits long ago— practically another lifetime. But you’d jump off a cliff before admitting that the shards of glass remain. And that it still cuts.

It’s impossible to act like everything is fine and you both can get along. So instead, you fight and fight until no more words can be said.

“Ooooo,” you hear Jeno say, reminding you you’re still in a place full of swarming bodies.

“What about you? You either hate me or you love me. It can’t be both,” you mutter, condemning yourself as you catch a glimpse of his lips hovering above yours. You're both staring one another down, and you notice the same vein on the side of his temple, and his jaw clenches with each phrase that escapes your lips.

“Watch it,” Jisung seethes.

“What? If you wanna play this game, let’s pla—“

“Okay! Enough of this,” Hyuck groans before dragging the both of you by the wrist and out of the main room.

“What are you doing Hyuck?” you urgently inquire, but he doesn’t reply. He only hurriedly rushes along, throwing you both into a bedroom you don’t recognize. And as you rush to escape the enclosed space, your friend shuts the door in front of your face– leaving you with your hands practically clawing at the door.

“Lee Donghyuck! Open the fucking door right now!” you yell out, unable to comprehend how your friend could think this was a solution. “Open the door before I beat your ass!”

“He’s not going to open the door,” Jisung reminds you of his presence amidst the chaos. “Not until the morning.”

“What?! No. No. No. This is not happening right now.”

“Let’s just sleep. So when we wake up, we can just get outta here.”

You scan the room, realizing there’s nothing for you to rest on except the bed in the center– the one Jisung is currently sitting on. “You think I can fall asleep with everything that’s going on? And I don’t even know what’s going on,” you’re shifting awkwardly, habitually rocking yourself on the heel of your feet following the eye of the storm.

“Just sleep. It’ll be over soon,” Jisung already makes himself comfy, placing his legs under the covers and rearranging the pillow to his liking. He’s too calm. Way too calm for what just occurred.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?”

“I don’t know, figure it out,” he mumbles, lids already fluttering shut. You hate how you admire how long his eyelashes are.

His eagerness to ignore the dilemma influences you to the bed to pry his lids open. As Jisung opens his eyes willingly, you finally take notice of how close you both are. His eyes widen at the proximity and he shifts back to the edge of the bed in surprise. You’re caught off guard because there seems to be something lingering in the air between the two of you. And you brush it off because you know it’s annoyance.

“Just sleep,” he softly lets out before returning to his original position. “Next to me.”

His softness in these last words has you admitting some defeat– realizing fighting won’t solve anything. “Fine.”

There are still zero answers that will satisfy your scrambled mind.

And you’re trapped in a room with someone you can’t stand for more than five minutes.

It’ll be over soon. Right?

You’re fucking drenched.

As the daze of sleep washes over, you notice the stickiness between your thighs. And not the good kind.

It felt as if you just entered the fiery pits of hell.

“What the fuck?” you whine. The air was so humid, you were practically suffocating. And as you turn to the side, you see an irritated Jisung. If you thought you looked gross, Jisung didn’t have a dry spot on his clothing.

You try your hardest not to stare at the clothing sticking to his abs. This is not the time.

“Don’t,” he warns, thinking you’re about to poke fun at him.

You chuckle at the sight of his discomfort, offering a half-assed apology. “Sorry.”

“Lee Donghyuck! Turn off the fucking heater!” he yells out, but there’s no answer.

“Fuck. We’re going to die.”

“I’m not dying here with you. That’s not how I’m going out.”

“Is that so bad? Chill the fuck out,” you roll your eyes.

“Yes it is! I’m gonna kick the door down and beat Donghyuck’s ass.”

You don’t know if it’s the unbearable heat, or the constant fucking attitude from Jisung all night. Maybe it was the pent-up frustration from all the other times you both didn’t get along. But you’ve decided enough is enough.

“What’s your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re always so fucking mad at me. I do nothing and you’re mad. I breathe and you’re mad. It pisses me off! At this point, I should be the one giving you the attitude you give me!”

“And you know what? I always cared what you thought. But not anymore. I’m done caring so pretend I don’t even exist,” your heart is beating out of your chest as the words spill out like vomit.

“That’s no–” Jisung’s unable to finish his sentence when suddenly his orbs follow your fingertips gripping the hem of your top to bring over your head– leaving you in a bra. “Wha-”

“It’s hot as shit and I’m not going to suffer. Do what you want,” you huff, continuing with the removal of your jeans. You notice Jisung's stare lingering on your contours as you eventually pull them off, and it appears as if a million different things are running through his mind when he suddenly glances away and shakes his head.

You’re not going to lie, it’s amusing seeing Jisung’s usual persona falter. Your boldness and the situation it creates masks the uncomfortable predicament the two of you are in. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”

“What did you mean by ‘you used to care about what I thought?’” He swallows nervously.

His words have you stopping in your tracks, not realizing your words were true candor. “Nothing, I was just saying nonsense,” is all you can render as you make your way to the bed, but Jisung beats you to it, grabbing your wrist to prevent you from escaping.

“Tell me. Please. I know it wasn’t nonsense,” his voice is like syrup, the usual bite to it completely gone.

You turn to face him, though you regret it the moment you notice how his eyes match his voice. “Well, I cared what you thought because of what we did before we all became friends. And us… Or whatever we are. I don’t know what we are now but I cared about you and what you thought about me.”

“Cared?”

“I still do…”

“Then why do we fight?”

“I don’t know. I guess you hate me so I just returned that energy.”

“I don’t hate you,” he sounds hurt, the similar bite of his voice attempting to escape. “You annoy the hell out of me, but I could never hate you.”

“Oh…”

“You really act like you hate me though,” Jisung offers a small smile.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying as hell. And I just don’t know what to do with everything lingering in the air when I’m around you,” you bite your lip at the confession, realizing it wasn’t a very good one. And you see him watch you do so.

“You mean the tension?”

“Yeah… The tension… The tension causes us to fight. Right?” The air becomes more suffocating than it already is. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s Jisung so close to you, or how you’re basically naked in front of him.

“What else would we do?” his eyes are still trained on your lips.

“I don’t know,” you murmur not above a whisper. “You tell me.”

“Let me try something,” he takes a step forward, shortening the small space between the two of you. “Promise you won’t get mad.”

“No promises,” you urge, because you’re unsure of what Jisung planned to do after the indirect confessions made in the room today. One things for sure. This territory hadn’t been visited in ages and it scares the shit out of you.

“What are you go–” You’re cut off the lips that make its way onto yours.

When you see Jisung dipping his head down to capture your lips onto his, you're taken aback. However, the minute he makes contact, your legs almost buckle. It's a familiar sensation, and you melt into him as he tests the waters with increasing devotion.

When you reciprocate the kiss, it gets feverish, and your trembling lips work together haphazardly, interwoven with airy sighs. His arms reach for your waist, pulling you into him harder than ever before. He knows your body like no one else, and it drives parts of your brain haywire. It feels like only yesterday that you both would rendezvous.

He groans into your mouth and squeezes your ass as you tug on his hair the way he likes it. It makes you whimper since the combination of the sloppy kiss and the rush of pleasure is far too satisfying.

It feels good. Way too good.

That's why when Jisung pulls away, you chase his lips and he emits a small chuckle at the action. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you don’t hate me and never did,” his shoulders rise and fall at a rapid pace as he catches his breath.

“I don’t,” you look up at him, and you want nothing more to kiss him again. It feels like all the frustration aimed at him was sexual. It’s honestly his fault for always looking so tempting while offering some smartass retort. “I never did.”

"God, I missed you," he smashes his lips against yours again, this time much more aggressive, and the back of your knees reach the edge of the bed, briefly disconnecting your lips. You laugh, and he smirks before diving back into you as soon as your back comes into contact the mattress.

Something possesses him at that moment, makes his hands glide up the back of your thighs, to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting to leave small bites that he later licks over to soothe the sting. “Know how much you love to be marked.”

“And I know how much you love me choking on your dick,” you giggle, licking a long stripe along his neck up to his jaw.

“You’re dangerous,” Jisung hooks your thong aside, unsurprised when he notices the sticky arousal coating his fingers. “Fuck, I forgot how wet you get.”

“It’s from the heat.” Your words contradict themselves as noises of pleasure leave your lips when he runs his fingers along your folds. Jisung, on the other hand, knows the meaning behind your words like no other. “All this stickiness is from the heat? I don’t think so baby,” he offers some stimulation to your clit and your back arches once he comes in contact with your bud.

You shake your head and he dips his head down onto your neck offering a small kiss against the side of your neck. God, he looks so hot, with the sweat dripping down the side of his temple and his puffy lips from kissing.

The lewd sounds from his fingers running along your folds sends you into a frenzy. You’re attempting to gain more friction, bucking your hips to feel more. You’re so needy for his touch. You've been longing for this touch. "I'll be nice, baby," he says, inserting one finger inside your hole, your walls engulfing him up to the knuckle. Jisung experiments with twisting and curling his fingers, enjoying the way you gasp and pulse around his fingertips.

The wet glide is so satisfying and you moan, basically fucking yourself onto his fingers. “Sung–” is all you can choke out as he begins thrusting with a rhythm you both can’t forget. “Wai–”

But Jisung can’t withhold any longer, not with you looking so pretty underneath him. Not with the sounds that he remembers all too well. His cock practically throbs at these thoughts, begging to be free from its confines when you’re already a mess. He’s pressing against your clit along with the constant thrust of his fingers. “Shit, Sung!” you wail, already foreseeing your high from the short time.

Your nails dig into his forearm, body twitching from the overwhelming pleasure only he can give you. “Oh, fuck,” the words are combined with a moan as your orgasm takes you by surprise, coating his fingers in a creamy pearl substance. It drips down your folds as he pulls away, and the wash of the aftermath runs from your toes to the crown of your head. It’s blissful, but your hunger for him doesn’t stay satiated. “Good girl,” he says as he revels in your figure.

“I need you,” you pant. “Now.”

“Whatever you say, Mom,” he jokes as he pulls his shirt over his head before discarding the rest of his clothing.

“Ewww. Never say that again,” you say, earning a laugh from Jisung.

“Like words ever stopped me before pretty girl.”

He's tugging the side of your panties, dragging them down the side of your legs while practically gaping. He continues with your bra and he gazes, unable to believe everything taking place currently. You're like a dream, sprawled out beneath him. The pretty girl he could never get close to after being so close with.

“Ready?” he asks after he shakes himself out of the trance you have him in.

“Mhm,” you nod.

He pushes inside, sighing into your ear at the creaminess of your cunt. Your arms are wrapped around his neck as he bottoms out, fingers burrowing further into his scalp. Jisung, rather than staying against your neck, takes advantage of the chance to peer at you. When his nose brushes up against yours, all he sees are your lips caught between your teeth.

At the feeling of his big cock inside of you, you clench around him. He groans against your mouth, habitually bucking his hips forward. “Fuck,” you moan out, back arching at the feel of his cock dragging against your walls. Your brain is already a mess and it has been since the moment he kissed you. But Jisung loves how you’re a mess around him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, and that turns him on beyond belief.

“Move Sungie, please,” you plead and Jisung groans at the nickname you know he loves so much. It’s enough for him to grab your wrists to pin them above your head before he begins moving.

“Sung,” you call out again when he begins to move. His calculated movements have you squirming beneath him, but you’re still perfectly fit against him and it’s as if you both never stopped this routine.

“You’re mine. I’m not letting anyone touch you,” he coos, and you’re quick to agree. “Yours.”

The constant rhythm he keeps has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and you're shivering when he picks up the pace--giving him a look that seems to make Jisung's cock practically explode. He snaps his hips forward, so close to the edge that you shudder at the perspective.

He's fucking you so well that your eyesight is fuzzy, and the brush of his dick against the spot that drives you insane only adds to the sensation. "I-I'm so close," you warn, your irregular breathing hitting his face.

“Wait S-sung-g no.” Just as you’re about to hit your peak, Jisung flips you over so that you’re sitting on his thighs. Though you’re disappointed in the delay of your orgasm, the angle has his cock pushing deeper than before, tip nudging against your velvety walls harshly. “Fuck, I can’t,” you beg as your back arches at the smallest movements.

As fast as words leave his throat, Jisung dips down to suck on your nipple, occasionally leaving purple blossoms. “Wait I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he says, chuckling when he sees you instinctively grinding forward against his member. “Cream my cock?” He watches your fucked out expressions, loving how your eyes are lined with tears.

“I’m planning on it, “ he smirks before thrusting up into you.

“J-jisung!” you’re a sobbing mess above him as his harsh thrusts sends pure pleasure up your spine. His name falls off your lips like a mantra, and the gibberish he can’t make out only urges him to move furiously into you. Though your brain is a puddle of mush, the band in your lower abdomen is about to snap, so you grind your hips against him with newly found fervor, stimulating your clit in the best way possible.

Jisung watches you above him as his fingers dig into your waist. You’re so beautiful, he thinks. Everything about you, every part of your mind and body he worships, and he swears he’s not going to let go of you this time.

“S-sung,” you moan again and again, and Jisung continues to abuse your boob, kissing up your throat as you inch closer to your high. “So perfect.”

You let out a high-pitched moan at a specific thrust, and your thighs tremble against his. "I got you," he says as he places a gentle kiss on your lips. And after a few thrusts, you're collapsing against him, again repeating his name. You're just a lick away from teetering off the edge.

“I want it so bad,” you blabber against his neck. “S-so close. Don’t stop.”

“Give it to me,” he dips underneath to circle your bundle of nerves with the perfect pressure and you come undone, high-pitched moans and whimpers against his ear.

The mix of cum and the slick from prior allows the glide to be that much easier for Jisung to glide against as he tips over the edge as well. You’re still pulsing and gripping his cock like a vice and it’s a done deal for Jisung. “Inside?”

“Inside me,” you kiss the side of his neck. He feels euphoric as your noises against his ear urges him on and his arms hold you tightly. And after a few more thrusts and desperate hips, his cum shoots inside you. “Fuck.”

It's so much energy that when the sensation of your high washes over you, you collapse against Jisung, who also collapses against the mattress.

“You’re sticky,” you look at his face and admire how good the afterglow of sex looks on him.

Jisung massages little circles across the small of your back in comforting stillness.

“I’m going to murder Hyuck,” he realizes how much the humidity encases the room.

“Maybe not too brutal, because his plan to lock us in here so we can finally make up worked,” you notify him and his eyes light up.

“I think everyone’s asleep. How about we torture them some more?” he smirks at you.

“I say Hyuck isn’t going to get a wink of sleep tonight,” you mischievously grin and it’s enough for Jisung to dive down and continue drowning in your lips.

DECEMBER 31 11:59 PM

“Damn, I can’t believe my plan worked! You guys are attached to the fucking hip,” Hyuck comes over to you and Jisung hand-in-hand.

“Your plan worked for once dumbass,” Jeno butts in abruptly, almost spilling the alcohol in his cup.

“We have no more arguing but I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Jaemin points.

“You guys are like rabbits!” Mark yells out.

“Gross! Not the fucking time! I need to find someone to kiss,” Renjun groans.

“Yeah but everything Hyuck does to end our suffering, it just reappears as something else!” Chenle laughs, earning a middle-finger from the subject of his words.

“Guess you were right. We can laugh about this on New Year's,” Jeno turns to Hyuck.

“Happy new year motherfuckers,” Chenle says before clinking all the cups together.

You turn to Jisung as the clock counts down, his arm around your waist. “Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

“Happy New Year, Girlfriend,” he smiles the hardest you’ve seen him in a while.

“Happy fucking new year,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours.

Happy fucking new year indeed.

1K notes · View notes