#kconnet

[neonun-au]

home is a feeling | lee donghyuck

pairing: haechan/donghyuck x reader  genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst warnings: alcohol (quite a bit), like very lightly suggestive word count: 8.2k words

for @nct-writers​ NeoHoliday event~ Inspired by the movie ‘The Holiday’

summary: Fresh off a break-up, not willing to stomach spending Christmas single with your family, you book a last minute trip overseas to escape the impending loneliness, not realizing that perhaps running away from your feelings will only serve to intensify them. You arrive at your home-away-from-home only to find you’re not the only one staying there. Through some unfortunate (or not so unfortunate) mistake, the AirBnB you booked has also been booked by a handsome young man looking for a similar escape from his own life. Now you have to choose whether or not to stay and spend your Christmas with a stranger or scramble to find a lonely hotel room last minute over the holidays.

taglist: @d-nghy-ck-main​ @infnteen​ (I hope y’all enjoy~)

The text message lights up your phone at 10:24pm. 

Mark: We need to talk

You would be lying to yourself if you had said you weren’t expecting it, but those four words still send your heart reeling regardless. The cold grip of anxiety tightens around your throat as you pick up the phone and stare at the message. The only communication between you and your boyfriend in over a week. Presumably, this was not going to be a good conversation. It wasn’t going to be one of those ones where he calls and rants about his day at work, about how much pressure he is under, and how you are the only person alive that is able to take his mind off of it. You aren’t that person anymore, and you haven’t been for a while. 

The writing was on the wall for weeks, but now that it's sprawled over your phone screen, it feels suddenly all too real. 

You inhale, fingers tapping across the screen, and attempt to craft a response that doesn’t indicate the level of panic you’re rising to. 

You: Sure, what’s up? 

Three dots. Appearing and disappearing. There and gone. You watch, sitting straight on the edge of your couch--Netflix muted in the background--and wait for the inevitable. 

Mark: I think we should break up

The pin drops and you feel your stomach tighten. Part of you wants to laugh, ‘really, two years and it ends over text?’ you think mirthlessly, typing and re-typing the message. Another part of you, a more overwhelming part, is just tired. 

You: if that’s what you want

The three dots return, flashing up on the screen and lingering. A visual representation of his overthinking. You sit and wait, biting back the angry tears threatening to spill out over your cheeks. Maybe you should fight for it--put up some small effort towards keeping this relationship--but you know it’s pointless. It would only drag it out, prolonging the death to an unnatural point and only sinking you further into a period of stasis. 

Mark: I think it’s probably what’s best

Mark: for both of us

You: Ok, I understand

Mark: sorry to do this over the holidays. Tell your mom I say hi

You don’t bother with a response. Instead flipping the screen face down on the table and inhaling deeply, breathing in the realization as it hits. 

Single. For Christmas. Great.  

Somewhere between the fourth and fifth glass of wine, with hazy eyes and even hazier thoughts, you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through holiday destinations on AirBnB. Rows and rows of home and apartments fly by in a blur on your screen as you scroll.

The thought of spending Christmas with your family, newly single, became too much to bear about an hour after the last text message was sent. You dug through your cupboards for an old, dusty bottle of wine, cracked it open, and put on a Spotify playlist to match the mood--sad and pathetic. Images of your childhood bedroom flooding your mind. Bright blue walls lined with posters and old photographs, all of the old books and stuffed animals your parents never had the heart to get rid of. A relic of another time, a shrine to another life. 

The thought of your sister’s pitying gaze turned your blood to ice. Her soft eyes, sympathetic but distant, as she chases your nephew through the halls of the familiar house. Your mom’s obnoxiously cheerful pep talks and all too unhelpful suggestions about who you could date fill your mind like lead. 

No. No you weren’t going to succumb to that fate. 

Instead, you click on listing after listing until you finally find one that fits your tipsy criteria. A small, modern home nestled in a copse of trees ten minutes outside of a picturesque village. Isolated, clean, and, mostly importantly--available. 

Without any further thought you type in your credit card information and wait for the confirmation email to appear in your inbox. 

--

The house greets you like a stranger. The door swings open into the dim interior--white walls, white furniture, and white curtains all cast in shadow--and you drop your bags in front of the door with a dull thud. Coat still wrapped tight around your body, you fumble around for the light-switch. The room warms up a bit under the glow of the yellow bulbs but you still feel the emptiness around you--descending in a thick blanket of silence. 

“What am I doing here?” You wonder aloud, kicking off your shoes and heading in to explore your temporary home for the holidays. The small living room opens up into a galley kitchen--clean and quaint. Despite reading the description in the listing, you hadn’t fully been prepared for just how pervasive the whiteness of everything would be. Especially in contrast to your parent’s home--with their richly painted walls, colourful decorations, and lush carpets. Everything in this house is a blank slate--you get the feeling you’re exploring it for the first time, that no one else has ever ventured here. Even the tint of grey on the walls isn’t enough to break up the uninhabited atmosphere. 

From the kitchen you wander back through the living room, past the large windows through which you can see the snow continuing to fall, and walk towards the hallway, presumably leading to the rest of the house. The bathroom provides some relief from the endless white. Blue tiles run up the walls of the small room, a relief for your eyes and a nice contrast with the tan flooring. It eases the sense of dread in your mind slightly before you move along towards the bedrooms. 

You peek your head into both doors in succession--disappointed but not surprised to be greeted by beds made with crisp, white sheets and duvets. A large evergreen tree peeks through the window of the room on your right and you drag your luggage in there, grateful for the proximity to nature if nothing else. You dump your bags on the floor and head back into the kitchen to unload your groceries and enough wine to put you in an effective holiday coma until your flight back home. 

Thankfully, the kitchen is well stocked with glasses. 

--

The sound of Mariah Carey’s voice drifts through the house, mingling with the boisterous, uneven tone of your own singing and effectively blocking out the wailing of wind as the storm picks up in ferocity outside. You take a sip of your wine--the first bottle of Merlot--and dance around in front of the stereo in your old t-shirt and underwear. Pushing aside the crushing weight of loneliness that had descended upon you when you first arrived at this place in the middle of the woods, you decided you were going to ride it out. 

Make the best of your solo Christmas trip and at least get drunk enough to forget why you came here in the first place. 

The song builds to a crescendo and you wail along, wine sloshing in the glass as you belt out high notes you never thought you were capable of, oblivious to the sound of the keypad on the door indicating someone’s entering. Mariah sings, you close your eyes and screech along, and a heavy bag drops to the hardwood floor with a loud thud. 

“You’re gonna damage your vocal chords if you keep that up,” a voice chimes out from the entryway and you stop mid shimmy--eyes wide with fear. You turn to see a young man starting at you from the doorway, smirk drawn over his lips. 

“What are you doing here? Who are you?” You ask, setting down your wine glass, body burning with a dangerous cocktail embarrassment and panic. Glancing around frantically, you see your phone on the kitchen table and try to plan out how you might be able to reach it before he can reach you. Memories of old new reports flash through your mind--home invasions, robberies, murders. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” he levels back, slipping out of his shoes and stepping towards you. His voice rises in defense, and you take the hint of confusion in his tone and run with it. Ignoring how vulnerable you feel, half-naked in the living room in front of an intruder--you pull your shoulders back and assert as much authority as you’re able to.  

“I rented this place for the holidays, so unless you’re the owner of this cabin--I would suggest you leave.” 

His eyes widen, but he takes another step towards you. “That’s a mistake. I rented this place,” he slips his phone out of his pocket and you watch through slightly hazy eyes as he scrolls through email after email until he lands on the confirmation from the website--shoving his phone in front of your face to show you the proof. 

Confirmation #343245 

Lee, Donghyuck

December 19-December 30

“No,” you shake your head, knitting your eyebrows together and staring up at him in firm disapproval. Your shoulders deflate slightly, assured at least that he wasn’t here to murder you. 

“No?” 

“No.” You reaffirm, hands on your hips. You feel the urge to poke him in the chest, to make him take a step back, but resist to maintain your stance. His honey golden eyes swim before you as you stare him down, ignoring the cool draft against your bare legs. “Hang on,” you grab your phone from the table and flick through your emails.

Confirmation #343244

_____, _______

December 19-January 2nd

“Ah,” he pushes the phone away from his face with a chuckle. “Umm, so I guess we’re stuck together?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly unsure of what to do in this situation, and you take a shaky step away from him. The liquid courage that had previously been roaring through your mind has now quieted to a dull whisper and you notice just how close you were standing. How the warmth from his body was seeping into your exposed skin. 

“No, one of us is going to have to leave,” you say, grabbing the throw that had been draped over the couch and covering your bare legs as you settle on the unforgiving white leather. “And by one of us, I mean you.” 

“I’m not leaving,” you watch as he walks to the entrance and drags his bag into the living room to reinforce his statement. You pause a moment, evaluating the man before you. His snow-soaked brown hair falling over his forehead, tanned skin, lean body. If it weren’t for the smug expression on his face you would maybe even think he was handsome. 

“Yes, you are.” You level him with a glare, taking another slow sip of your wine. “I booked this place first, according to the confirmation numbers. I arrived here first, too, so I have dibs. Sucks to be you.” You’re not sure if it’s the wine or the loneliness that’s making you so bold, but it catches him off guard nevertheless and he lets out a laugh. The sound echoes through the living room, brightening the atmosphere and chipping away at the sense of unease that had temporarily gripped you. 

“Yeah, well, I think I’ve probably got a better reason to be here than you do, so by that merit I win.” Resting his hands on his hips, he matches your glare happily. 

“Doubt that, Lee Donghyuck.” You scoff, memories of your frantic escape from reality swirling through your wine-soaked brain. 

“Oh yeah? You want a bet, ______?” He shrugs off his coat and tosses it haphazardly over his luggage on the floor before flopping down next to you on the couch. 

“Fine, let’s make it a bet,” any potential danger or fear you should be feeling in this moment, next to this complete stranger, is a distant thought as you prepare your case. Equipped with days of mulling over your own miserable state of affairs and a half-drunk bottle of Merlot. “Winner stays, loser goes.” 

“Deal,” he nods, stretching out his arms as if preparing for a fight. “Can I have some of that wine?” 

--

The previous cold of the home has all but dissipated through glasses of wine and the laughter of the evening. You find yourself sprawled out on the couch next to this strange man as he describes how he came to the decision, much like your own, to spend Christmas alone far from home. 

“So, since we didn’t have any schedules or anything lined up for the holidays, and I didn’t really feel like hanging around the dorms being reminded of how painfully single I am.” 

“How did she break up with you?” You asked, refilling your glass with another healthy serving of wine. 

“In person,” he shrugs, tossing back the rest of his glass. “She said I was ‘a handful’ like she’s my teacher or something.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes and you let out a short bark of laughter, slipping further and further into a strange sense of comfort around him. Whether due to the influence of alcohol or the shared misery, you’re not sure. 

Nudging him with your toe, you turn with a half-smirk, “at least she had the courtesy to break up with you in person. I got dumped via text.” 

“Ouch,” he laughs, shaking his head in sympathy.

“We had been dating for two years, too,” you nod. Now sitting next to your new companion in misery, the whole thing seems rather humorous in retrospect. The image of you, tear stained and tired, sitting in your pajamas booking a solo vacation for Christmas seemed like something out of a cheesy comedy flick. “He told me to tell my mom that he’s sorry he can’t make it for Christmas.” 

“Okay, so we both got dumped,” he says, emptying the rest of the wine into his glass and sliding onto the floor in front of you. 

“Yup,” you nod, stretching out across the couch in his absence. 

“And we both somehow rented the same vacation home for the same date,” he’s ticking off his points on his fingers. You watch the back of his head--staring at the soft brown hair now finally dry from the snow melt as he runs his free hand through it. 

“Yeah,” he’s reached some conclusion but any brain power you could have spared towards meeting him there was lost three glasses ago, so you just wait for him to spell it out for you. 

“Why did you choose to come here and spend Christmas alone?” He turns, sparkling brown eyes meeting yours a few inches from your face. You can feel the warmth of his breath, you see the pleasant upturn at the corners of his mouth as he waits for your answer. Your fingers twitch to brush aside a loose strand of his hair but you keep them still at your side. 

“Would you believe me if I said I was kinda drunk?” You reply, shifting away from his steady gaze. He grins wide and the urge to reach out and touch him, to check and see if he is indeed real and not some hallucination crafted by your addled brain, intensifies.

“Okay, so since we’re both pathetic losers, where does that leave us?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Who gets to stay?” 

“Well, considering I bought two weeks worth of wine, I think I might be more pathetic than you.” You state, waving your hand dramatically towards the empty bottles on the coffee table. 

“I came here in such a rush I only packed one pair of pants,” he rebuffs. 

“Not bad, but did you also forget to bring a toothbrush? Because I definitely had to rebuy all of my toiletries in the village when I got here.” 

“Alright, well I had to pack my bags and leave with all five of my roommates staring at me wondering what the hell I was doing.” 

“Five roommates? Jesus,” you heave a sigh, fixing your gaze back on his and ignoring the way your stomach flips. “Fine, you win.” His grin broadens and you groan internally, dreading the prospect of having to find a last minute accommodation. “Maybe this was a stupid idea anyway, I should probably just go home for Christmas.” 

“What, didn’t you just get here?” He asks, eyes widening in alarm. 

“Yeah, but--” you sigh, shifting up onto your elbows. The weight of your decision sinks in past the cloud of wine and laughter of the last few hours, settling into your stomach like a stone. “What was the point? I was sad about feeling alone on Christmas so I decided to book a flight to be alone...on Christmas.” 

“That is pretty stupid,” he agrees, nodding solemnly until you raise a hand and push him away from the couch with a firm shove. 

“Whatever, you did the same thing.” 

“So,” he sighs, settling back against the side of the couch after your attack. “Why don’t we be alone together?” 

The question shocks you out of your malaise and you balk at him, “what?” 

Donghyuck spins around on the floor to face you, “there’s two bedrooms, we both already paid for the place,” he shrugs, “you clearly shouldn’t be left unsupervised considering the amount of wine and cheese in the fridge.” 

You narrow your eyes in disdain, miffed at the criticism despite the accuracy of the statement, “so what, you’re going to change your mind now after I already said I would leave?” 

He just shrugs again. “Yeah, I’ll even let you have your choice of bedroom.” He winks. 

“Oh, wow, how generous,” you roll your eyes and push yourself into a sitting position--conscious of your still bare legs under the thin throw as you move. 

“In case you didn’t notice, it’s been storming outside all night so chances are neither of us was going to get very far anyway,” he gestures out the window where sure enough a small snowdrift has started to collect outside. The howling winds, drowned out at first by obnoxious Christmas music and then by conversation and laughter, make themselves known again and you feel a shiver cascade over your body at the mere thought of the frigid temperature. “Besides,” he continues, “I’m actually sort of having fun with you.” 

“Oh,” the sudden confession catches you off guard. Through the hours of shared stories and bottles of wine you had barely had a chance to notice the tension dissolve into a general sense of ease and comfort. His presence next to you had rapidly shifted from alarming to natural and you couldn’t deny that you had also been having fun. 

Donghyuck gets up, collecting the empty bottles, and heads into the kitchen. You listen as the water runs from the tap, as he rummages around in the pantry in search of some late night snack, and think over his proposition. 

Two people brought together under suspiciously similar circumstances from wildly different places somehow ended up at the same place at the same time. And by some further twist of fate, two people brought together who seem to also enjoy each other’s company. But maybe that was the wine talking. 

“Hey,” he calls out from the kitchen, voice carrying through your myriad of thoughts. “Do you want some cheese or…cheese? Jesus, is this all you bought?” 

“Yes and no, I’m good thanks,” you laugh and bring your glass to your lips with a smile. 

“We’re gonna have to go grocery shopping, this is ridiculous.” He slips back down to his spot in front of you on the floor, holding a plate of cheese and grapes in front of your face as an offering before popping a cube into his own mouth and washing it down with a sip of wine. 

The casual scene, too comfortable for people who met only mere hours before under bizarre circumstances, carries on deep into the night. Sharing laughter and jokes as you slip further and further into your new reality like an old sweater. Like it’s always been there just waiting for you to inhabit it once again. 

As the hours bleed on, Donghyuck’s smile and laughter at once so new and exciting become more and more familiar. You stop hyper focusing on his movements, on his wild gestures, and start allowing them to exist in proximity to you. To exist as they are alongside your own. Eventually you slip off the couch and take a seat next to him on the floor, giving him a hazy run down of how palmistry works and why the lines on his hand mean that he was born to be in entertainment. 

He humours you, holding his palms steady as you trace the lines without much care for the closeness of your bodies. The heat of his gaze sinks into the top of your head as you stumble through a half-remembered explanation about his heart line. “Hey ______,’ he interrupts your speech suddenly, fingers curling around your own. “Do you miss your ex?” 

“Huh?” The question catches you off guard and you almost whack his chin with the top of your head as you raise your gaze to meet his. 

“Do you miss him?” For the first time since he walked in on you wailing along to Mariah Carey in your underwear you see a hint of caution in his expression. Some small spark of vulnerability hidden behind the golden flecks of his irises. 

“No,” you drawl, slightly taken aback by your own honesty. “I guess I just miss…being with someone, you know? I knew for a while that it was going to end but I guess I held on because sometimes it's more comfortable to just...stay. Peacefully existing next to someone even if you know it's not going to end well.” 

He scoffs, “peaceful? I didn’t think that was possible.” 

“I take it your relationship was a bit more exciting than mine was, then?” 

“Well, like she said--I’m a handful,” he winks and releases your hand to reach for the last cube of cheese on the plate--popping it into his mouth. 

“Do you agree with her?” 

“About what?”

“That you’re a handful.” 

“Maybe,” he nudges you with his elbow and flashes a conspiratorial wink your way. “If you stick around I’m sure you’ll find out for yourself.” 

You shake your head in mock horror, “I think I already have.” He laughs and settles back against the couch, eyes closed. In the soft silence that settles around you you take a moment to study him. The soft flesh of his cheeks--a rounded profile. You always thought you preferred a sharper jaw but looking at him now before you, you imagine what it would be like to trace your lips along the curve of his neck. How soft and sweet he might taste under your gentle touch. He said he was a singer, but you haven’t heard his voice yet--just the cacophony of laughter and jokes that are almost constantly pouring out from between his full lips. You try to match the image of him to any voice you’ve heard before but come up short--your imagination either too frail or too soaked in wine to find a possible comparison. 

“Donghyuck,” you break the silence, clearing away the images in your mind with a slight cough. He turns to you, eyebrow quirked, and waits for your question. “Do you miss her? Your ex?” 

“No,” he laughs. “I thought I did, but listening to you talk about yours made me think that maybe it’s just having someone that I miss. Not necessarily that specific someone.”

“Okay,” you nod, thoughtful, and drain the last of your wine. “I’ll stay.” 

--

The cold light of morning greets you with a sharp pain in your temples. Through four bottles of wine shared between the two of you last night, you somehow managed to forget to drink any water at all. 

The heat of the water in the shower raining over your skin melts away the knots built up over a night of restless sleep and you close your eyes--immersing in the feeling. The calm and peace so rudely interrupted a minute later when Donghyuck pounds on the door, “______, hurry up and get dressed. We have to get groceries before we’re completely snowed in.” 

Ah right, a handful. 

Snow-capped trees pass by through the windows of the car in a blur as Donghyuck maneuvers the car down the narrow lane away from the house. The force of your headache has ebbed slightly after pounding back a couple of Tylenol, but the winding road coupled with the frantic speed of his driving brings up a fresh wave of nausea. A few times you’ve had to brace yourself against the dash to avoid slamming into it, and once your hand found purchase on his thigh in a desperate scramble for security--eliciting a loud bark of laughter from him. 

“Want me to slow down?” He asks with a sideways grin. 

“Yes please,” you groan, wondering at how he can manage to be so spritely after going glass for glass with you the night before. He laughs again but slows the car to a reasonable pace, easing the turmoil in your stomach. 

The sleepy village sprawls out before you, bringing a wave of relief washing over your body. Small brown buildings sprout up out of the stark white snow, and despite the nausea you can’t help but marvel at the sight. Somewhere in the post-breakup daze, this image was what you had been searching for. Picturesque countryside, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the city you were so used to and judging by the look in Donghyuck’s eyes, he felt similarly. 

“This is cute,” he says, hopping out of the car and stretching towards the bright rays of the sun. His skin shines in the amber rays of morning and you have to peel your eyes away to keep from staring. 

“It is,” you agree, following him towards the shop on the corner of the street with a sign proclaiming ‘Fresh Bread Baked Daily’. 

There’s something about the understated domesticity of grocery shopping that grips you. How glancing over fruit and vegetables together is an act of almost intimate proportions. How his stern warning of “no more cheese” sounds a lot like a proclamation of affection under the flourescent lights of the small store. You follow him through the aisles, losing yourself in the fantasy and toss random items in the cart--some of which are immediately placed back on the shelf by him. 

“Can you cook?” He asks, surveying the roasts laid out in rows before him. 

“Yeah, well enough,” you nod. 

“Do you like cooking?” 

Another question that catches you by surprise. You pause, hand hovering over a rack of ribs and wonder. Did you like cooking? Or did you just do it because it was necessary--almost expected of you. Because all of your previous partners or flings were so hopeless at it that you had absolutely no choice. You could give the expected answer, or you could be honest. 

“Not especially,” you answer with a laugh when he glances up at you in question. 

“Okay,” he grabs a roast and tosses it into the cart. “I’ll cook Christmas dinner then.” 

“Do you like cooking?” You ask, surprise clearly evident and he laughs at the expression of shock as it washes over your face. 

“Depends who I’m cooking for,” he replies and you follow behind as he pushes the cart towards the bakery, watching as he inspects loaves of bread with a more serious look than you’ve seen from him yet. A small smile spreads across your face and you reach over him to toss a pack of cinnamon buns in the cart--earning a soft glare from him but the buns remain in the cart as you walk towards the till. 

“Will that be everything for you today?” The elderly cashier, bedecked in a bright red and green, hand-knit Christmas sweater tells you the price with a smile. Donghyuck counts out the money while you load the cart with the bags, eager to get back to your temporary home and slip into your pajamas with a plate full of fresh cut fruit. “I hope you kids have a lovely holiday,” she says as the receipt prints out and you match her smile with your own. “It’s so nice to see young love these days.” 

“Oh we’re not--” 

“Thank you,” Donghyuck grins, taking the receipt and pushing the cart out towards the car. 

--

Christmas Eve looms up in the midst of an extended snowstorm. The grocery trip turned out to have been perfectly timed, much to Donghyuck’s delight, and it has given him something to tease you with at every turn. How he should have been a meteorologist. “I’m so connected to the weather, _____.” He says around a mouthful of cinnamon bun--sly grin turning up the corners of his mouth and earning a playful slap from yourself as you try to ward off the rest of his smug comments. 

Briefly, in the cold, sober light of day after your fortuitous meeting you had worried that the comfort of the evening wouldn’t last. That this bizarre camaraderie and friendship forged through circumstance was tenuous at best. You worried that it would dissolve within hours and you would be stuck; snowed in to a house with someone you had nothing in common with. Stuck with a stranger and existing on the edge of a knife blade as you try to drown the pit of loneliness in your stomach with the remaining bottles of wine. 

Hours pass, and then days, and to your surprise nothing of the sort happens. Instead you find yourself spiralling deeper and deeper into this gravity of this unlikely companion. The stark white of the living room no longer feels cold and barren, instead it reflects the warmth of Donghyuck’s laughter--the warmth of your mingling happiness as you dance around the living room with abandon. Basking in the sheer freedom of the moment. Nothing to worry about, no one to worry for. Just existing, there and then--set to a soundtrack of Holiday hits. 

You finally hear Donghyuck sing one night, sprawled out in your pajamas on the living room floor and you swear this is what angels would sound like. You tell him as much and he just shoots you a wink and says, “I know.” The voice of an angel, the temperament of a demon. 

Through all of it a string is pulled taut between you. This underlying thread of possibility that taunts you at every turn. It tightens around your stomach in knots when he brushes up against you as he reaches for a glass from the cupboard. It vibrates like a string played on a harp when he smiles at you across the table, or laughs at some offhand joke made at his expense. Every glance, every word, pulls it tighter and tighter. Weaving your unexpected friendship into something more--something unspoken and unbroached. 

You lay awake at night, alone in the room across from him, and wonder if this is all an illusion. If the glances and stirring in your heart are all concoctions created by your post-breakup brain to lessen the feelings of sadness that should have been burrowing into your heart this past week. The worries swirl around in your brain, morphing and growing into your vivid dreams. Dreams of your ex, dreams of falling, and dreams especially of Donghyuck. 

Yet, in the morning light, sipping coffee across the table from him, all these thoughts and worries melt away as you let yourself drift further into this temporary domesticity. The laughter and happiness of the days overwhelm until eventually you can't remember what you had been worried about in the first place. 

Donghyuck makes good on his promise to cook Christmas dinner and you spend the day padding through the small home bathed in the intoxicating scent of the array of spices and herbs slowly roasting in the oven. 

“How much longer?” You ask peering over his shoulders as he slides a tray of potatoes into the oven. 

“Impatient,” he pokes you in the nose with the tip of his warm oven mitt. “It’ll be done when it’s done.” 

“That’s not a real answer,” you cross your arms and lean against the counter, waiting for an answer to appease your curiosity. 

“And people say I’m annoying,” he scoffs, slipping off his oven mitts and leaning next to you. The warmth of his bare arms as they brush against yours sends a shiver rippling over your entire body. “Did you do this to your ex, too, when he would cook?” 

“Who? Mark?” You snort, the image of Mark standing in a kitchen cooking eliciting a guttural response. “He couldn’t cook to save his life.” 

“Well, good thing you got rid of him then,” Donghyuck nudges you with his elbow, fingers grazing against your own. You feel the tip of his pinky finger curl around yours and your breath catches in your throat. A giddiness you haven’t felt since high school creeps through your veins as the contact deepens. He slides his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers. You chance a cautious glance out of the corner of your eye and see his soft brown gaze fixed steadily on you--all signs of teasing washed away until there is nothing but a sweet sincerity hidden in the depths of his irises. “______,” he breathes your name, pushing himself off the counter to stand in front of you. 

You wait in a bubble of anticipation as he leans in closer and closer. The warmth of his breath tickling your face, the thread between you tightening--pulling you together in the kitchen. His lips, soft and welcoming, barely graze against yours before the bubble bursts and your ringtone sounds out through the small home like an alarm, startling you back to reality. With an apologetic glance, you rush over to your coat and fumble through the pockets for the offending device. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, honey!” Your mom’s voice sings through the speaker of your phone and you heave a sigh, releasing the irritation that had wormed into your thoughts at the interruption. “Merry Christmas!” 

“Yeah, Merry Christmas, Mom,” Donghyuck laughs as you take a seat at the table, head in hand and listen as she rambles off a list of everything you were missing at home over the holidays. 

“Anyway, I just wanted to call and make sure you were doing all right all alone up there. It really was a surprise that you decided to leave for Christmas, but as long as you’re happy it’s alright I suppose.” 

“I’m, yeah I’m good, Mom. I’m enjoying it.” 

“I know the breakup wasn’t easy for you and I was worried that you might be lonely out there by yourself,” she sighs through the phone, motherly concern plain in her voice 

You glance over and watch as Donghyuck flips the potatoes, face illuminated in the glow of the oven, and smile, “no. Not at all, actually.” 

“That’s good to hear, sweetheart, I just want to make sure that you made the right decision.” 

“I think I did,” you smile. “I really think I did.”

“Okay, well, as long as you’re happy,” you can hear through the speaker the insistent wailing of your nephew in the background, cloying for attention and your mom’s voice grows distant as she turns towards him. Clearly preoccupied in all the goings-on at home. 

The image is clear in your mind, what you would be doing there in some alternate version of the present--if you had never decided to take this trip. You would be sitting in the same pajamas you had been wearing for 2 days, warm mug of apple cider in hand, fending off your sister’s pitying glances and making half-assed conversation with your estranged uncle as he tucks into yet another plate of baked goods. 

The familiar scent of cinnamon and clove draws you into the scene. Years and years of Christmasses spent in the same house, in the same living room, with the same people. Comfort, familiarity, and there are parts of it you miss. But glancing up now, laughing as Donghyuck reels back from the cloud of steam as it billows out from a simmering pot on the stove, you decide you that there are more that you don’t miss, after all. That home comes in a lot of different forms, and a childhood house is just one of them.

“Mom, I’m gonna let you go. I’m having dinner with a friend. Have a good Christmas, say hi to everyone for me.” 

“You too, honey,” she replies, clearly distracted entirely now by whatever disaster was unfolding in front of her at the moment. “Love you, we’ll see you in the new year.” 

The phone call ends and you walk over to where Donghyuck stands stirring one of his array of aromatic concoctions. “Smells great,” you comment and he smiles--clearly pleased with the reception. Whatever had passed between you minutes before has all but slipped away, replaced again by casual comfort. 

“It’ll be done in about two minutes if you want to have a seat,” he nods, flicking the burners off and gathering dishes and silverware. 

The wine is poured, the roast is sliced, and the mouth-watering aroma of sage and rosemary fill the small home as you sit across from each other. It still surprises you how easily you slip into domestic simplicity next to him. Simply existing in one another's company--absent of the pressure to be anything except oneself. Maybe, you think, it comes from knowing that it's only temporary. That you really only have each other for these few days stolen from time, and eventually you were each going to slip back into your lives entirely separate from one another. 

Having this holiday as only a memory, growing more and more vague with each passing month until even the sound of his laughter all but fades from your recollection. 

“Do you like it?” Donghyuck asks, slicing into his dinner eagerly. You watch and wonder if he thinks about the same things as you. If the thought of your inevitable departure from each other is casting any sort of shadow over this meal, this moment, or if he’s content simply just existing free of those worries. 

“It’s delicious,” you nod, forking another potato into your mouth. “Like really good. I never would have expected you to be a decent chef.” 

“Oh, you’d be surprised at the things I’m decent at,” he hums with a wink and you feel the blood rush to your head, clouding your thoughts. How easily his humour washes away all worries for the future, bringing you into the present. How easily over the span of a few days he has managed to pull you into him. 

“Is that right?” You swallow the intrusive thoughts down with a sip of wine and glance at him over the table, evaluating the sly smirk as it stretches across his soft lips. The feeling of his warmth against your body, so close you could almost melt into him, lingers  in your mind. 

“Yeah, do you want a demonstration?” He sets down his silverware, flexing his hands, and casts his eyes on you from across the table in question. 

“O-” the words catch in your throat, deepening his grin as he makes his way around the table towards you, “of what?” 

“The things I’m decent at.” The faint scent of wine and savoury herbs still lingers on his breath as he leans in, sending your thoughts reeling ss you watch his features come in and out of focus before you. He brings a hand up into your hair, a light touch just barely grazing your ear. You feel yourself leaning in towards him in response, a natural shift towards him and he chuckles low and dark next to your ear before pulling away with a grin. 

The sudden absence shocks you awake like a cold shower as he stands before you brandishing a coin in triumph, “you had something behind your ear.” He drops the coin into your hand and you stare at it, aghast. 

“A magic trick? You wanted to show me a magic trick?” 

“Good, right?” He laughs, “one of my bandmates taught me how to do it. Why? What were you expecting?” 

“I--” you stammer, mind still reeling from the dramatic shift in atmosphere. He leans back in towards you.

“Were you expecting something else?” His features come into full focus, a glint of mischief shining in the honey browns of his eyes. He hovers and you pause a moment to study his features up close. The slight imperfections in his skin, the gentle curve of his cheek as it meets the corners of his upturned lips. You open your mouth to speak, but think better of it. 

Instead you give in. You take the opportunity and move, barely an inch, towards him. Closing the gap between you and pressing your lips against his. He gives out a small groan of alarm, clearly not expecting the boldness, before he deepens the kiss. You lean back with him until your back is pressed against the hard wood of the chair, pinning you to his chest. His arms snake around your waist, supportive and grasping and he pulls you to stand with him--wine stained lips never ceasing their movements against yours. 

The dinner sits abandoned half-eaten on the table as you stumble together, wrapped in each other's arms, and fall into bed. Whatever fragile distance between you, kept to preserve your already wounded hearts, slips away as you lay each other bare in the crisp, white sheets. The feel of his golden skin against yours, the warmth of him melting away any worries gnawing at the back of your mind. 

Any thoughts outside of this moment. For now. For tonight. You fall asleep in his arms and your dreams are peaceful for the first time in a week. 

The bright sun filters in through the sheer curtains and you wake up wrapped in Donghyuck’s arms. You settle in, curling up tighter to his side and breathe deeply. ‘I could stay here forever,’ you think, a soft smile stretches over your lips as he tightens his arms around you in his sleep. You feel at home for the first time since getting off the plane, happiness singing through your limbs in the amber glow of the morning. 

At least until your thoughts return and your peace is disturbed by the unwelcome reminder that you’ve only got 4 days left until Donghyuck flies back home. Until you’re left alone again in this house that only feels like a home because of his presence. As if sensing the shift in the atmosphere, he stirs awake--pressing a sleepy kiss to the top of your head. 

“Good morning,” he sighs, loosening his hold on your slightly to stretch his legs out underneath the comforter. 

“Morning,” you try to match his smile, the cheerful tone, but the worry slips through in between and despite the sleep still hanging around his head he catches it, ever observant. 

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, brushing a stray lock of hair out of your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, leaning into his touch despite yourself. “Too well, I think.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he laughs lightly before his face regains an expression of casual concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“I just,” you hesitate and he runs his hand down your arm--soothing. For a moment you contemplate just burying your worries. Hiding them far away in the dark of your mind to be dug up only after he leaves so you can parse through them alone in silence. The temptation to hide in his warmth and bask in his glow for the remainder of your days here is strong, but something in his expression stops you. Invites you in to share your thoughts, “what happens when we leave here? You’ve only got a few more days left and then...what?” 

Vulnerability never came naturally to you. It was always easier to hide--from your thoughts and from others’ reactions to them. But as Donghyuck wraps you back in his arms with a gentle squeeze, you think maybe it wasn’t the vulnerability. Maybe it was just the people you were scared of. “Are you worried I’m going to forget about you?” 

“A little bit, yeah,” you laugh, grateful for the comfort that never seems to disappear when you’re around him. 

“I don’t know what happens,” he admits and the expression of sincerity on his face--one free of the usual teasing or mischief--tugs at the fraying threads of your worries until they start to unravel in your palm. “I’m not sure where we go from here, but I do know that I don’t want to spend the last four days we have together worrying about it. So you shouldn’t either.” 

He emphasises his last sentence with a firm poke to your forehead and you laugh. The conscious choice to release your worries, to throw the frayed threads out into the snow and be done with them, presents itself and for once--you take it. You press your lips against his once more and set free your worries tangled in the soft flesh of his limbs.

--

“Okay, for real I have to go now,” Donghyuck stands in the entrance of the small house dressed in his winter coat, arms tightly encircling you as he sighs against the side of your neck. 

“I know, you can let me go anytime, Hyuck,” you laugh as his embrace merely tightens. He peppers your face, your head, your neck with kisses before finally pulling away and picking up his bag. 

“You have my number, right?” 

“Yes, you double checked it three times this morning.” 

“Okay,” he nods, lip between his teeth. “And I have your number?” 

“Yes, do you want to call it again to make sure or was the four times you did that earlier enough?” 

He groans dramatically, throwing his head back before running his eyes over you--head to toe--as if to imprint this image of you, standing before him wrapped in your onesie, into his brain. “Okay, for real ______, you need to let me leave. I’m going to miss my flight.” 

“Then go, you weirdo,” the laughter comes despite the knot in your stomach. Seeing him now standing before your, face twisted in a dramatic grimace, pulls at your heart but still you’re not sad. You’re sure you will be later, as you drink the last bottle of Merlot alone listening to a playlist of Celine Dion’s greatest hits, but now? The sadness is an afterthought. Instead you see him, bundled up in front of you in a thick scarf, and you can’t help but smile. The last few weeks, as bizarre and unexpected as they were, made you feel alive again. Made you feel at home.

And you wouldn’t change them for anything. Not even if he left and never called. Not even if you had to watch him walk out of that door 100 times over like some twisted version of Groundhog Day. 

“One more kiss,” he pouts, and you give in. Pressing your lips against his and savouring the moment. Savouring the feeling of him. You pull away after a minute and he groans, “just one more.” 

One goodbye and a thousand kisses later Donghyuck leaves, taking with him all the warmth of the small house and leaving you in silence. You watch through the window as the car makes tracks through the fresh blanket of white snow; a few wayward tears escape, rolling over your cheeks as the car fades into the distance. With a sigh you pull yourself away from the window and turn on the stereo--drowning out your sorrows to the tune of 80’s pop ballads while you clean up after the whirlwind of the last few days. 

The chorus of Sinead O’Connor’s Nothing Compares 2 U reverberates through the house and you wail along, elbow deep in dishwater--oblivious to the sound of the keypad at the entrance. You don’t notice Donghyuck for a minute, too lost in a state of catharsis. Singing along with Sinead as you let the tears flow freely now, mixing in with the dishwater below. 

“You know,” he says, leaning against the kitchen wall, “I almost think you’re trying to make me go deaf.” 

“Hyuck,” you stare at him, open mouthed, for what feels like an eternity before he ducks his heady shyly under the strength of your unwavering gaze. 

“I just--” he stammers, rubbing the back of his head with a gloved hand. “I just thought, you’re here until the 2nd anyway, right?” 

“Yeah,” you say, dumbfounded, as you slip your hands out of the water--never taking your eyes off his face as he searches for the right words to say. 

“It’s snowing a lot, my flight will probably be delayed anyway,” he waves a hand vaguely towards the clear blue sky outside. “Why not...stay? At least until you leave.” 

Your heart thrums wildly in your chest, unable to contain the surprise and excitement of his return. “Yeah,” you smile, watching as he shuffles in front of you.

“If you....want me to be here?” The uncertainty in his voice--the quiet nervousness you hadn’t seen from him before--brings the flood of warmth back into your body. 

“Of course, you idiot,” you reply, taking his face between your wet, soapy hands and pressing your lips to his. You feel the grin stretch across his face as he returns the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Besides,” you say, a wry smile twisting up the corners of your mouth, “someone needs to finish eating all of this cheese.” 

© 2020, neonun-au

[ddalgi-yong]

[2:15am] his arms were around your body, snuggling against you. it had been a while since you had the chance to be with your boyfriend. jaehyun had missed you. that was out of question, he loved lying in bed with you. just chilling, watching a drama on his laptop and leaving little kisses on your neck, making you giggle at the soft actions. you loved this feeling though, his soft kisses feel so loved and made you feel so, so good.

"babe, this feels so good”, you breathed out when the sensation made your heart beat faster. you loved neck kisses; they always made your tummy flutter.

“does it?”, jaehyun smirked against your skin, made you giggle. you nodded slightly and closed your eyes.

“it feels so good, please don't stop", you almost moaned when he started sucking on your skin, leaving purple marks on your skin.

“don't worry, i won’t”, he mumbled against your skin. the drama on his laptop was long forgotten, he was hovering over you. your arms were around his neck, trying to hold him closer. “i love you.”

“i love you, too. i missed you so much, baby. happy new year”, you whispered when you pulled his face closer to you to finally kiss jaehyun on his plump lips.

—

happy new year everyone !! ❤️ i know, 2020 was shit but like txt said, lowkey f*ck 2020 and have a great 2021 !!

[puppywritings]

celeritas - kim jungwoo x gender neutral reader

masterlist

⇢   synopsis: celeritas; speed, swiftness. windswept hair and ripped jeans. kim jungwoo, mysterious neighbour and alleged street racer. just what secrets lie within this man? and can you match his speed?

⇢   word count: 7.3k

⇢   trigger warnings: car accident, blood, non-serious injury, swearing, implied sex but no explicit scenes.

⇢   a/n: this is my piece for adrenaline rush, the nct racer au collab! please make sure to check out the other pieces in the collab:)

When your boss moved you to the graveyard shift, you were certain it was nothing short of a curse. The lack of sunlight you witnessed, the subsequent cost of vitamin D supplements, the inherent loneliness of living your whole life while the majority of your city slept.

There were certain benefits, however, once you gave yourself the time to adjust. Laundry, for example. On your days off, you were perfectly free to saunter down to the completely empty laundry room in your apartment building, which was a rare sight. In days long past, you’d had to fight tooth and nail for an opportunity to run a load of laundry, although you had found that the room was mostly empty come 3 in the morning. Key word: mostly.

There was a certain gentleman, who apparently lived in your apartment building, although you hadn’t ever seen him before your late-night laundry escapades. Now, however, he seemed to be a regular fixture in your life. You hadn’t yet figured out whether this was a benefit or drawback. In fact, you were having trouble figuring him out in general.

Soft brown hair, a little overgrown but he wore it well. Warm eyes, dark and shining, the kind you’d expect to see on a puppy. An air of confidence, the sense that he knew exactly who he was and what he was worth. Something about him… you just had to know more. He was a particularly interesting synopsis on the back of a novel, and you wanted to stay up all night reading him, cover to cover. You’d begun sharing smiles with the man, glances across the laundry room. Not that night, though.

That night, his rosy lips were pointed decidedly downwards in a frustrated pout, his eyebrows furrowed in a worried knot. There was something on his mind, that much was clear, and your mind ran wild, creating stories about what might be troubling him. He’d missed his stop on the bus home and ended up in a strange neighbourhood, and he was attempting to comprehend the oddities he’d witnessed. He was an undefeated chess master, and an upcoming champion was threatening his spot on the throne. His pet turtle hadn’t been eating her greens and he just couldn’t figure out why. None of those things, or perhaps all of those things.

“Fuck! For the love of god!”

The man’s cursing startled you from your daydreams, the impact of his shout causing you to drop the shirt you were holding. Even through your alarm, you found yourself thinking that he had a nice voice - even when he was yelling obscenities. You wondered how it would sound when he paid compliments, when he rambled about something he cared about, when poetry tumbled from his lips.

“Hey,” you called to him across the room, with all the bravery you could muster. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, although this clearly wasn’t the case. “I just can’t get this damn stain out.”

“Hm. What’s the stain?”

He lifted the shirt higher so that you could see it. A white t-shirt - well, you assumed it was once white. The condition of the fabric, when he pulled it from the washing machine, was a little less than ideal. A rusty stain covered the expanse of the material, red and brown. The man was far from happy - you could tell this wasn’t his first time battling this particular stain.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s ketchup?” he asked with a wry smirk. You couldn’t help but smile back at him - his sarcastic amusement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but feel that this was a frequent exchange for him. Not so much the laundry situation, but the smirk, making warmth blossom in the heart of a complete stranger.

You nodded. “Got it, no questions asked. Have you tried running a cold cycle? And do you wanna borrow some stain remover?”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he praised you. “Or at the very least, a shirt-saver.” You laughed at this; you wouldn’t have expected him to be so dorky. Or, upon reconsideration, maybe it was obvious. From the way his eyes glinted in the light. You swiftly closed your own machine, setting off the cycle, before gathering your equipment, your clothes-washing tools, and taking them over to the man.

“Here,” you said, taking the shirt from him and squirting the remover onto it. You walked him through the steps, rubbing the substance into the material before tossing it back into the machine and running a cold cycle.

“I’m Jungwoo, by the way. Apartment 127.” He held his hand out, and you shook it. Jungwoo, you thought, running his name through your mind. You wondered how it might taste, through laughter or in the dark.

“[Name]. Apartment 129.”

“No way,” he remarked. “We’re so close together - how haven’t we bumped into each other? Before recently, I mean.” It made you feel strangely special, the way he acknowledged your recent encounters with each other. Though you’d never spoken, he recognised you. He’d noticed you.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Well, actually - I just moved to the night shift.”

“That’ll be it,” he confirmed. “I’m a creature of the night, mainly.”

“Well, I’m gonna go. I have… stuff to do.” His pause intrigued you, but you let it slip. Jungwoo tapped the sign on the wall beside him, reading DO NOT LEAVE LAUNDRY UNATTENDED. “I won’t tell if you won’t. See you around, [Name].” With a wink, and a smile, he was gone.

*

Now that you had a name to the face, a voice to the man, a sliver of personality to the otherwise unknown figure, Jungwoo seemed to occupy your thoughts a lot more in the coming week. Hard as you tried to curb these thoughts - you barely knew the man, after all - but whenever you left your apartment, particularly when it was any later than 11pm, you found yourself looking for him. You scanned the hallways, crossed your fingers when the elevator doors opened, kept an eye on the door of apartment 127. It was all to no avail, however. You didn’t see Jungwoo once in the week following.

You’d almost given up hope entirely, or perhaps you were so weary and exhausted from your shift that even Jungwoo was far from your thoughts, which were solely focused on your warm, comfortable bed that you couldn’t wait to fall into. Birds were chattering away to one another, and you sincerely believed you’d never get used to falling asleep at seven in the morning. As you were scanning your way into the building, passing your key fob over the sensor, you noticed a figure behind you, in your reflection. The person was tall, though their identity was hidden by their hood, and fear flashed through you.

You really hoped this wasn't one of those horror stories - where a strange man gains entry to an apartment building where he doesn't belong, only to murder its inhabitants. You glanced backwards before you pulled the door open, only for your fear to lessen and your concern-slash-confusion to raise.

"Jungwoo?" you asked, peering at him. He was clearly trying to hide himself, but you knew it was him. You unrecognised his lips, and hoped that wasn't creepy, but what deterred you was the swelling around the left side of his jaw. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, [Name]. I'm fine." He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but winced as the action twinged his swollen features.

"You don't seem too fine," you commented, trying to peer at the rest of his face, under his hood.

"I've had worse," he shrugged, wincing again. "Look, can we go inside?"

You frowned, pulling open your apartment door before ushering him inside and pulling down his hood, acting fast and catching him unaware, only to gasp at the state of his face. Along with his swollen jaw was a black eye, and a gash across his forehead that had recently ceased its bleeding, judging by the dark, dried blood around the site of injury

"Oh my god, Jungwoo, what happened?"

"Listen, I said it's fine-"

"Come on, let me patch you up." You grasped his arm, marching him towards the elevator, and he got the message that his protesting was worthless and you wouldn't be taking no for an answer. Once in your apartment, you pulled a chair out from your kitchen table and pushed Jungwoo firmly down onto it, before digging the first aid kit out of your cupboard.

Jungwoo was silent through the whole affair, and you sensed that some of this was surprise. It didn't seem like he was used to this - being taken charge of, that was. He seemed like the type of guy who took charge of everything and everyone he encountered. Well, you supposed, he had met his match.

He was a good patient, and only flinched once, when you brushed his wounds with an antibacterial wipe. Finished your cleaning and bandaging, you leaned back against your kitchen counter, eyeing the man up. He said nothing, simply looking back at you with an undetectable look on his face. His lips were set in a straight line, though his eyes were soft.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked him eventually, breaking the silence. “I have decaf coffee, tea, hot cocoa-”

“Hot cocoa, please!” Jungwoo interrupted, looking excited all of a sudden, despite his injuries. You nodded, and went to prepare two hot cocoas. Silence fell again, and it was a strangely comfortable silence considering you were near-strangers.

“So,” you spoke after a few moments, “I know I said I wouldn't ask questions. But I did just fix your face, so I think you kinda owe me a little explanation.”

“Hey, hey. This face? Could never need fixing. You can’t fix perfection.”

You gave him a look. “You’re avoiding the subject, Jungwoo.”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m a street racer.”

You paused for a few beats, looking at him. Searching his face for any sign of amusement, waiting for a gotcha!

It didn’t come. “A street racer?”

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. He sounded genuine. You were left wondering whether he was, in fact, a street racer… or a pathological liar.

“You don’t look like a street racer,” was all you said, as you handed him his cocoa. He took a sip.

“Then, what do I look like?” he questioned. A model, you thought. Outwardly, however, you simply shrugged, and tried to hide your blush by taking a sip of your drink. “You can come see me in action if you want, baby. I’m racing again tomorrow night, midnight.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Follow a mysterious man, who I’ve found covered in blood on two separate occasions? Come on. Even to you, that must sound a little shifty.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “You’re the one who invited me into your home, baby.”

You sighed -  you couldn’t really fight him on that one. You wrapped your hands around your mug tightly. “I don’t know anything about you, Jungwoo. I don’t even know your last name-”

“Kim,” he interrupted. “Kim Jungwoo.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Well I know your last name, now. But still. How do I know you’re even telling the truth?”

Jungwoo smiled, his lips twisting upwards in the corners in the most endearing way possible. He looked into your eyes. “[Name]. Darling. Why would I lie?”

You give him a cynical look. “Really, Jungwoo? There are some serious creeps out there. Creeps who tell many different lies for many different reasons. And none of them are good reasons.”

“Just trust me, okay? Take a leap of faith.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Most creeps weren’t this pretty. “A leap right into my arms,” he continued, stretching his arms wide as an invitation.

Snorting out a laugh, you delivered a shove to his shoulder. Gently - you didn’t know the extent of his injuries. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Midnight, right?”

“Midnight,” he confirmed. He smiled at you, in a way that you couldn’t help but smile back. “See you then.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you alone in your kitchen once more. Jungwoo always seemed to come and go, much like a tornado, leaving you shell-shocked and windswept in his wake. Street racing, hm? You shook your head to yourself. Just what were you getting yourself into?

*

As you didn't have a car, you didn't tend to visit your building's underground parking lot often. If you did, you were sure you would've noticed Jungwoo's car before. Cars didn't typically stand out to you - you weren't a car person. But even you had to admit, there was something impressive about the vehicle.

It sat low to the ground, vintage-looking, stark black with two contrasting white stripes running across the middle. You didn't know they still made cars like that; maybe they didn't, you considered. You found yourself wondering how it sounded when the engine ran, how it looked when Jungwoo sped down city streets inside it. You noted the sizable dent on the front bumper, and wondered just how bad his crash had been the previous night. Apparently not big enough to deter him, seeing that he got right back into the game, but perhaps that said more about Jungwoo than the size of the crash.

"What do you think?" Jungwoo asked, his smirk audible in his voice. This thing was clearly his pride and joy.

"I like it," you admitted honestly. It's cute, you tacked on, mentally. Though it was an honest compliment, you weren't sure it would go down well if you voiced it.

You smiled when Jungwoo opened the passenger-side door for you. It was nice learning things about him - he was a gentleman, you noted, someone who believed in chivalry.

"You aren't gonna speed with me in the car, right?" you asked as he settled into the driver's seat, only half joking.

He shook his head. "I put myself at risk when I drive. I wouldn't do the same to you, [Name]." You said nothing, but felt your heart swell.

“It’s just a twenty-minute drive, baby. This kinda stuff has to take place on the outskirts of the city.”

“Hey,” you remarked, your tone surprised, curious, but not hostile. “Why do you keep calling me baby?”

Jungwoo paused for a moment. He didn’t seem to have the answer any more than you did. “I don’t call everyone ‘baby’ y’know. I’m not one of those guys,” he noted your sceptical look, “Really.” He trained his gaze back towards the road, eyes pointed forwards. “Something about you… I don’t know, [Name]. I just have to call you baby.”

You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter wildly at that. You pulled your scarf up to hide the blush that flooded your cheeks. You'd spent far longer than you'd like to admit picking out your outfit. You weren't entirely sure what type of person he was yet, nor the crowd he raced with. Not that you were trying to impress anybody - that wasn't you, that wasn't what you did. You just didn't want to stand out too much.

The weather was warming but the nights were still cool. You'd gone for a light jacket, paired with your favourite scarf. Enough to keep you warm, but not so much that you were completely bundled up.

"This isn't a big race, by the way," Jungwoo shared. "I'm sorry I can't show you something more impressive."

"That's okay," you told him, and it was the truth. You were happy to be invited here regardless. "I've never seen street racing before, so I guess I'll be impressed by anything."

Jungwoo snickered. "You're cute."

The city lights passed by in red and white streaks, and you felt dazzled. Before long, Jungwoo was pulling into a parking lot on the outskirts of the city. It had a strange feel to it; you knew that, by day, this place was probably rather abandoned, seeing activity levels of zero, most days. But now, just after midnight, there was a thrum of energy, small as it were.

Streetlights shone onto the lot, revealing one other car, its door open. One figure stood beside the car, another sitting in the passenger's seat.

Jungwoo put the car in park, but paused and turned to you before getting out. "Hey, if you wanna go home at any point, just let me know. I'm your ride 'n stuff, so…"

You nodded. "Thanks."

"And, by the way, if you get scared, you can always hold your hand."

You scoffed. "Sure. You wish."

Jungwoo winked at you, and opened his door to climb out. "Maybe I do wish that," he murmured before swiftly moving on, not giving you enough time to react. "The door sticks, I'll come open it for you."

Jungwoo was flirty. But you didn't know what he was after. You didn't know how genuine he was. Sure, he'd invited you out here to watch him race with his friends, but how did you know he wasn't just doing it to get laid? Were you the first person he'd brought here? The second? The tenth?

You found yourself flustered as you looked up at him, climbing out of the car. You really had to stop overthinking every interaction between you two. You left the car and approached the other, sticking close to Jungwoo's side.

"Jungwoo," greeted the standing man with an inclination of his head, a happy grin on his face.

"Hey guys," Jungwoo grinned at the boys. "This is [Name], like I said."

"Hi," you waved politely.

"This is Yukhei and Sicheng," he indicated to his friends. You found yourself wondering, Are all street racers this beautiful?

Yukhei was tall, an overgrown golden retriever of a man, with kind eyes and tousled hair. His beauty was a warm and welcoming one, and you couldn't help but feel favourably towards him right away. Sicheng, sitting in the car, had a more elegant, delicate beauty, a slight smile and a curious gaze; something about him intrigued you. You weren't sure what you'd expected of a group of street racers, but this wasn't it.

"Let's get into it," Jungwoo declared, sounding fired up. His excitement was electric, you felt it in the air.

"Move it, babe," Yukhei instructed Sicheng, who left the car with a roll of his eyes.

"Look after [Name] for me, Sicheng," Jungwoo called out before getting back in his car.

"I'm sure [Name] can look after themselves," Sicheng responded, before turning to you. "You might want to step back for this, though."

You complied wordlessly, taking a few steps backwards. Jungwoo and Yukhei lined up their respective cars, revving their engines a little more ferocity than necessary. Sicheng stood in front of them, a piece of fabric in his hand that looked like a bandana. He raised it in the air. The tension was thick, anticipation weighing on your shoulders. Sicheng lowered the bandana, and in an instant the cars were gone, leaving behind a cloud of dust which you braced yourself against.

And then… silence. It felt a little anticlimactic, but it made sense when you thought about it; the boys were racing through a concrete jungle, obviously you couldn't observe the whole course. Sicheng let out a huge breath, a cathartic sigh. You realised that your own adrenaline was running high, and imagined that Sicheng's must be even higher, since the cars had rushed right past him, impossibly close.

"That's that," he commented, smiling at you. He came to stand beside you, and you watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a flask. "Cocoa," he said, before taking a swig. "Want some?"

You took it happily, enjoying the warmth that the sip instilled deep inside you. The night was a bit colder than you expected.

"So, you're Yukhei's-" the word boyfriend was on the tip of your tongue, but Sicheng interrupted before it could come out.

"No, no. We're just friends - he's my best friend. He's like a brother to me."

You nodded in understanding. "And you don't race?"

"Only idiots race," he said sagely, and you trusted his judgement; if the people he was closest to races, he would surely be an expert.

"I'll keep that in mind." You accepted the cocoa flask, when he offered it to you again.

"So, how do you know Jungwoo? He was very vague when he said he was bringing someone."

Your initial response, mentally, was I don't know him, not really. Although, you waved it away. It didn't feel true. "He's my neighbour. We haven't known each other long."

"He must like you," Sicheng remarked offhandedly.

"Well, I don't know about that," you denied, skeptical.

"He wouldn't have brought you here if you weren't special. This whole thing, the racing, it's all underground. You can get into a lot of trouble when you're caught."

You thought this over. Special. Of course, this was Sicheng's word, not Jungwoo's, but you wanted it to be true. It seemed more and more likely, the longer you dwelled on it; and you certainly had spent some time dwelling on it. He must've seen something in you, to invite you here. Maybe more than just bed-material. Maybe.

Minutes later, the two cars returned to the parking lot, almost side by side.

“I won that, for sure!” Yukhei yelled out of his open window.

“Yeah, for once,” Jungwoo contended. “C’mon, you’re showing me up in front of [Name]. They’re gonna think I’m a bad racer.”

“You’ll get it next time, Jungwoo,” you cheered him on with a smile.

Jungwoo and Yukhei raced a few more times, while you and Sicheng drank hot cocoa and cheered them on. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt more and more enthusiastic each time Jungwoo returned; you really got into the spirit of things. Jungwoo seemed to be the clear victor; he had won four races while Yukhei had only won one.

"Should we call it a night?" Jungwoo asked. "I'm starving." You had to admit, you were getting pretty hungry too. Upon checking your phone, you realised that a few hours had passed. You were so consumed in the excitement, in keeping score for Jungwoo, that you'd barely realised time was passing.

"I was thinking the same thing," Yukhei agreed. "We going to Aeja's?"

Jungwoo turned to you. "Are you up for that, [Name]?"

"Aeja's?"

"Aeja's diner," he elaborated. "The best apple pie you've ever tasted. Are you hungry? I can take you home, if you want."

Your stomach rumbled, as if answering the question for you, and you chuckled. "I'm famished."

You found yourself smiling when you got back into the car with Jungwoo. His presence was warm, and it felt good to be sitting next to him again.

“Are you having fun tonight?” Jungwoo asked you as he pulled out of the parking lot, following Yukhei’s car. “Sorry we haven’t really got to hang out yet. It can be kinda boring, watching people race.”

“No, I’m having fun,” you told him honestly. “This is exciting, and Sicheng’s been keeping me company; he seems nice.”

“I hope we can spend some more time together, [Name],” Jungwoo said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you. “We should hang out again.”

“I’d like that,” you replied honestly.

The tinkle of the bell above the door was a light, welcoming sound when you stepped into the diner. It was a nice place, and though you'd never been there before, it somehow instilled a sense of warm nostalgia within you. Hardwood floors, neon lights, cracked red leather booths. It was like something out of a movie. It was empty, save for a bored-looking waiter behind the counter.

"You guys again? Really?" he drawled, but there was a teasing expression on his face. He had an angular jaw, chocolate-brown hair in a low ponytail, and a nametag reading Yuta.

"Hush. We keep you in business," shot back Sicheng, as the four of you found your seats in a booth.

"You're right," the waiter - Yuta - conceded. "Manager's talking about shutting this place up at 10 every night." He came around the counter, joining you at your table.

"Don't you dare," threatened Yukhei, sounding deeply devastated at the prospect of new opening hours.

"It's not up to me, bro," Yuta raised his hands in surrender, seeming amused.

"I need this place," Yukhei iterated.

"Yeah, yeah. What do you want?" Yuta pulled a notebook and pencil from the pocket in his apron, ready to take your orders.

Jungwoo, Yukhei and Sicheng all knew what they wanted immediately, being regulars at the diner, so you just followed Jungwoo’s lead and ordered a burger and fries, with a milkshake.

Yukhei folded his arms onto the table, leaning towards you. “So. Did Jungwoo tell you about the big race?”

You looked to Jungwoo in question. “Big race?”

Jungwoo nodded in confirmation. “In a few weeks. That’s what we’re practicing for right now.”

“Million won prize,” Yukhei interjected.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “A million? Where does the money even come from?”

“Gambling, mostly,” Jungwoo explained. “A lot of people bet on the organised races.”

“Your Jungwoo’s the favourite for this upcoming race - three to one.”

You dismissed Yukhei’s remark of your Jungwoo, instead focusing on his claim of Jungwoo’s capability. “Woah, really?” He looked bashful when he met your gaze, and you had to admire the fact that he hadn’t bragged about this to you; you’d met far too many boys who boasted and gloated about their many triumphs, talking themselves up in a completely unnecessary and unlikable way. Jungwoo wasn’t one of these boys, it seemed.

“It’s not like this is a huge race,” he explained. “I only stand out locally. Plus, I have some pretty strong competition in this guy Jaehyun.”

“This is so crazy,” you expressed. “This whole street racing thing, I mean. It’s all been happening right under my nose and I had no idea. I didn’t even know it existed, really. I kind of thought it was just a movie thing.”

“It’s very real, baby,” Jungwoo assured you. You had to admit, you weren’t at all mad about the pet name he’d assigned to you; your heart fluttered each time the word passed his lips.

Yuta returned with your food, and you all tucked in. The boys hadn’t been exaggerating about the quality of this place - the fries were heavenly, the burger not too greasy.

“You know what they say about street racing, right?” Sicheng asked you, and you looked at him inquisitively. “Street racing started when they made the second car.” You smiled at the charming proverb.

“Drive fast and leave a sexy corpse, that’s my motto,” Yukhei said, around a mouthful of burger. Jungwoo snorted out a laugh, and Sicheng rolled his eyes though he was clearly amused. You caught Jungwoo’s gaze, and your own laughter doubled. There was a certain happiness that erupted within you, whenever you made eye contact with the boy.

You had to admit, this night was the most fun you’d had in a long time. You hadn’t met up with any friends in a while, now that you were a night owl, and you appreciated the way these three boys accepted you into their circle.

*

It was almost instantaneous, the switch in your life from loner to social butterfly. You began spending your nights with Jungwoo, Yukhei, and Sicheng, either racing, hanging in the diner, or otherwise exploring the city. You and Jungwoo had grown close, faster than you would’ve expected. He set off fireworks in your heart, stars erupting whenever you closed your eyes.

“What did you do before I came along?” you asked Sicheng as he poured you a cup of hot cocoa, in the parking lot that had grown incredibly familiar. “This must be so boring on your own.”

“I didn’t come to watch them race often,” Sicheng said. “I come to the big races, and we hang out a lot anyways - it’s not easy to find other people who are pretty much nocturnal. But Jungwoo asked me to come along to keep you company that first night.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. You supposed this was a new routine for more than just you.

“Oh, shit,” Sicheng muttered suddenly, looking past you. You turned to see red flashing lights, a police car cruising by silently.

“That’s bad, right?” you asked Sicheng, your heart spiking with nerves.

“It’s not good,” he confirmed, grimacing.

“What’ll happen if they’re caught?”

“They’ll probably get taken down to the station,” he explained. “After that, who knows.” Sicheng seemed worried, going by the tense look on his face, and his agitation was contagious. A sense of panic began to set in, and you chewed your lip anxiously.

“If they realise cops are patrolling before they’re caught, they should manage to get away okay,” he said, and you nodded in understanding.

After a few minutes, a few tense and painful minutes, a car rolled into a parking lot - Yukhei’s. He drove to you and Sicheng, parking up and climbing out.

“Where’s Jungwoo?” were the first words that passed your lips, urgent and hurried.

“Hiding out, I hope,” Yukhei responded, running a hand through his hair. “Fucking cop car, patrolling. We split when we saw it.”

Your worries weren’t eased in the slightest. “I’ll try texting him.” When you pulled your phone out of your pocket, you realised your hands were shaking.

Are you okay??? you tapped out, as quickly as you could. Moments passed. “He’s not replying,” you exhaled.

“Don’t worry, okay? It could mean he’s on the road, driving back here,” Yukhei said.

“It could also mean he’s been caught,” Sicheng mentioned. You saw Yukhei shoot him a look that said not helping.

Yukhei patted you on the shoulder. “Jungwoo’s survived much closer calls than this, alright? He’s tough. He’ll be fine.”

Though it felt like hours had passed, it had only been eight minutes, and you knew this precisely as you’d been checking your phone for messages the whole time. When the hum of Jungwoo’s engine neared, and he arrived at the parking lot, you audibly gasped. He jumped out of his car, and the sight of him, unscathed, brought relief that was almost overwhelming. You ran to him, hugging him tightly.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright. It’s okay,” Jungwoo reassured you with a surprised laugh, wrapping his arms around you. You pulled away, feeling shy all of a sudden, though Jungwoo kept a hold on you, arm wrapped around your waist.

“You think there was a leak?” Jungwoo asked.

“Maybe,” Yukhei responded with a shrug.

“A leak?” you asked. “What do you mean?”

“The police may have gotten word that there’s a race planned here. They don’t usually patrol this area,” Jungwoo explained, still holding you close.

“That’s what makes it a perfect racing spot,” Yukhei added. “No speed cameras, no police.”

Jungwoo sighed. “Let’s just call it quits for tonight, yeah? I’ll talk to Johnny tomorrow, see what he knows.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Yukhei agreed. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

“C’mon, baby,” Jungwoo said, ushering you to his car.

The ride home was strangely silent. You didn’t think it had ever been this quiet between the two of you, not since your laundry room days. When Jungwoo parked up in the garage, he paused before getting out of the car, turning to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your knee. “You okay?” You simply nodded, eyes trained on your lap. “Look at me,” he said, and you did. His eyes were wide, genuine concern evident in his expression.

“I was really worried about you tonight,” you explained, and he smiled.

“I know,” he said gently. “That’s not something I’m used to, y’know? There usually isn’t anyone to worry about me like this.” His voice didn’t call for pity. If anything, he sounded amused by your outburst.

“I don’t know what came over me. I was terrified for you, Jungwoo.”

His smile turned into more of a smirk. “Maybe you just care about me, baby.”

“I do. I really do.” Your heart was racing, pounding at an alarming rate. Looking at Jungwoo, this hurricane of a man who had stormed his way into your life, you felt something you couldn’t explain. You wanted to be close to him, to stay close to him forever. When he slowly leaned in, you closed your eyes and waited for his lips to find yours.

They were soft - softer than you would’ve expected. His touch was light as a feather when he cupped your cheek. Your hands went to him automatically, settling on his body as though they were always supposed to be there; your left landing on his shoulder, your right flat on his chest. Jungwoo deepened the kiss without hesitation, sliding his tongue past your lips and using it expertly. A small moan emerged from within you, and Jungwoo pulled away before things got any more intense. You were left panting slightly, adrenaline coursing through you.

“I care about you too, for the record,” Jungwoo stated, and you smiled, shaking your head in amusement.

“Do you want to come to my apartment?” you invited him.

“I’d love to.”

*

You awoke as the sun was setting, golden rays filtering through your curtains. You blinked yourself awake, eyes adjusting to the room. Jungwoo was sitting at the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. You smiled to yourself, admiring his frame, the wide expanse of his shoulders. You noticed his eyebrows tied together, frustration etched into his features, and wondered just what he was looking at.

“Morning,” you greeted him sleepily, before amending, “Evening.”

“Hey, baby,” he replied, expression softening into a kind smile once he saw that you were awake. “You sleep well?”

You nodded. “Everything okay?”

Jungwoo laughed, a stressed chuckle, as he ran his hand through his hair. “One of our message boards was infiltrated - everything’s coded, but we can’t take any risks, especially not after last night. We’re gonna have to change the location of the race.”

“Oh no,” you said with a frown, moving to sit beside him. He lifted his arm, and you cuddled into his side, savoring his warmth. You tried hard not to smile to yourself, given Jungwoo’s unfortunate situation. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d craved his touch until you got it, and now you’d gotten a taste, you never wanted to let go.

Jungwoo groaned. “This is gonna throw me off, big-time.”

“But it’ll throw everyone else off, too. That could be a bonus,” you pointed out.

“You’re right,” he agreed, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “Plus, I have you now. My good luck charm.”

You smiled into the warm skin of his bare chest. This was a big obstacle, very close to the race. But, even with your very limited knowledge on the subject, Jungwoo seemed like a very competent racer. You knew he’d push through this.

*

The boys hadn't been exaggerating about the sheer energy these big races brought. There was an electricity in the air, and you felt inexplicably giddy, as though all your hairs were standing on end.

Floodlights shone down on the parking lot - not the one you'd been visiting, unfortunately, but a revised location on the other side of the city. The place was swarming, a whole crowd of people packed into the lot. Around fifty, if you had to estimate. Drinking, laughing, preparing. You didn't know what you'd expected, in terms of demographics, but you were surprised. People from all walks of life were here; punks with brightly coloured mohawks, men who wouldn't look out of place as lawyers or accountants, some of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. It seemed that the art of street racing was seductive to all types of people.

You clutched Jungwoo's hand as you looked out at everyone, standing beside his trusty car. You knew he was nervous, but he didn't show it. He smiled down at you, giving your hand a squeeze.

"You're gonna do amazing," you reassured him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I know," he said, hints of a smirk on his lips. He looked past you suddenly, scowling. "Who let you in here?"

You turned to see a man approaching, a smug look plastered on his face. He was tall, as tall as Jungwoo, and handsome. Though his charm was different to Jungwoo’s; where Jungwoo was pretty, puppy-dog eyes and a bright smile, Jaehyun was angular, cocky grin and dark eyes.

“Could ask the same about you,” he shot back. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”

Jungwoo sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “Don’t try to trash talk me, Jaehyun. It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not gonna be the one who’s embarrassed, Kim,” Jaehyun denied. “See you out there.”

“You won’t see me, man,” Jungwoo called out to him as he walked away. “You’ll be left behind in my dust.” Jaehyun failed to reply, only shooting Jungwoo the middle finger behind his back. Jungwoo snorted in laughter.

“So, that’s Jaehyun?” you asked. You’d heard about him, from Jungwoo and the others. He was one of the only racers who was on Jungwoo’s level, his biggest competitor. He’d won the last race, and Jungwoo was determined to take back the crown.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Jungwoo nodded. “Nasty piece of work, right?”

“Yeah, awful,” you agreed with a laugh - it wasn’t serious. The two of them were rivals, that much was evident, but you sensed a great deal of respect between them, without a doubt. They challenged each other, pushed each other to be better, and it seemed that they appreciated each other for that.

An air horn sounded suddenly, and you grasped Jungwoo’s hand a little tighter in surprise. He grinned at you, and you laughed as your cheeks heated. You were just so excited, so worked up, that it made you jumpy. “That’s the signal, babe,” Jungwoo explained. “Kiss for good luck?” You complied, giving him one last lingering kiss.

You reconvened with Sicheng, watching as Jungwoo and Yukhei got in their cars and drove towards the starting line. There were six cars, in total, with Jungwoo, Yukhei, and Jaehyun accounting for three of them. Yukhei’s nimble red car stood out among the bunch; Jaehyun’s was a deep blue, bigger than Yukhei or Jungwoo’s; however Jungwoo’s was certainly the most impressive of the bunch, with her stark white stripes. You could have been biased, though.

Your heart was pounding. With nerves, with excitement, possibly even a bit of fear. This was racing - real racing. You knew how dangerous it could get. After all, you’d fixed up Jungwoo’s injuries yourself. And, really, he was lucky to get away that lightly.

The parking lot was near silent as the cars lined up. You and Sicheng stood, a few metres away from the line of cars. You looked at Jungwoo, through his windshield. There was a look on his face, determined and excited, that made your heart flutter.

You’d never felt a silence so heavy, never heard a silence so loud. It was as though every single person was holding their breath. The tension sunk its sharp, jagged teeth into your skin, and you dug your nails into your palm.

“On your marks,” boomed a voice, amplified by a megaphone.

“Get set.” Engines revved.

“Go!”

Almost the instant the word had been uttered, the cars had sped off, leaving no trace behind. The crowd erupted, whooping and cheering. Sicheng pulled you into a hug, and you laughed as you held him close. There was a certain high that came from this, an adrenaline rush. You could barely even imagine how Jungwoo must be feeling, flying down the streets at lightning speed.

“You look nervous,” Sicheng commented, the corner of his mouth lifting. You gave him a small smile in response. “Jungwoo knows what he’s doing,” he reassured you, and you nodded. This felt so reminiscent of the times you’d spent with Sicheng, waiting for Jungwoo and Yukhei to finish racing, drinking hot cocoa and laughing together. Though it also felt wildly different. There was something riding on this race; Jungwoo’s pride and a lot of money. Your heart was pounding. A month ago you’d never spared a thought for street racing, and now? You’d give anything for one man to win this race.

The race was a little longer than what Jungwoo and Yukhei had been practicing - or maybe it only felt that way because you were sitting on the edge of your metaphorical seat. You could hear them, in the distance. An unmistakable low rumbling, thrumming through the asphalt. It grew louder, the cars drew nearer. You reached for Sicheng’s hand, clutching it tightly as butterflies raged in your stomach. You stepped forwards, peering down the street. You saw the headlights in the distance, as they turned onto the stretch of road. Sicheng gripped your shoulder, pulling you back gently from harm’s way, and you chuckled, a little embarrassed at your anxious enthusiasm.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen cars move that fast - in fact, you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything move that fast. You barely had time to blink, as Jungwoo and Jaehyun’s vehicles, a blur of black and navy, raced ahead of the others, appearing in front of you within an instant.

A screech, a deafening crashing sound, and a hoard of gasps met your ears all at once. If it weren’t for Sicheng’s grasp on your hand, you would’ve ran directly into the line of oncoming cars. “Jungwoo!” you heard yourself cry out, and although it was your voice, it sounded distant, far away.

“Hey, hey, [Name],” Sicheng said, pulling you closer to him. “He’s okay, Jungwoo’s okay.” His words were meant to soothe you, but his voice was still tinged with worry. You blinked, looking out at the scene in front of you.

The other cars whizzed by, driving past the wreck that Jaehyun’s car had become. Jungwoo had been the clear winner, as Jaehyun’s car had skidded off-course just a short distance from the finish line. The bumper had been dented, the metal crumpling as though it were paper. You watched as Jaehyun stumbled out of the driver’s side, mostly unscathed. A group of people ran to him, now that the cars had stopped flying by, carrying first aid kits, but you paid them no attention. You shrugged free of Sicheng’s grasp, running to where Jungwoo had stopped.

You caught sight of his car, dented along one side, and tears sprang to your eyes. Jungwoo climbed out when he saw you coming, and you held him at arm's length, looking over him frantically. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely rising above a whisper.

“Baby, baby, I’m fine,” Jungwoo breathed, pulling you into a hug.

“Jaehyun,” you uttered. “He-”

Jungwoo pulled back, kissing your forehead. “He’s okay,” he assured you. You followed his gaze to Jaehyun, whose forehead was being wiped by a makeshift medic. He gave the two of you a thumbs up, and Jungwoo waved back.

“You won,” you stated, looking back to Jungwoo.

“Yeah,” Jungwoo laughed. “I guess I did.”

“You don’t sound very happy,” you pointed out, caressing his cheek lightly.

“It doesn’t feel right - I feel like I’ve won unlawfully, y’know? I only won cause Jaehyun crashed-”

“Maybe, but you don’t know that for sure,” you told him. “You won, and that’s that.” Jungwoo sighed, and you kissed him.

An air horn sounded, and you jumped yet again. Jungwoo laughed. “That’s for me, babe.”

“And the winner is Kim Jungwoo,” called out the voice, crackly through the megaphone. Jungwoo raised his hands in victory, as a scatter of applause rang out for him.

“A million won, huh?” you said. “What you gonna spend it on?”

“Fixing up my car, probably,” he sighed, looking back at the dent in his vehicle. “And I might take my baby on vacation.”

You giggled, kissing him once more. This street racing thing was slightly terrifying, you had found. But it had its plus sides too.

[flurrys-creativity]

Mistletoes & Christmas sweaters

Pairing: Lim Jaebeom (GOT7) x fem!Reader; Genre: Fluff, Smut, Humour, Romance, Slice of life, Established Relationship AU, slight Angst; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: the reader is petty, they argue at the beginning, jaebeom is stressed, they hate christmas, sex, shower sex, fingering, unprotected sex, reader touching herself, dirty talk, bambam is bambam, general got7 chaos, teasing, suggestive promises, kisses, alcohol; Wordcount: 4.206

Summary: Both you and your boyfriend weren’t really fond of christmas and anything revolving around it. Still, your shared apartment was the place for this years christmas party and neither of you were too happy about it. How could you actually make the best out of it?

A/N: This is part of the “Under the mistletoe” event held by the ksmutclub and in collaboration with various networks. I didn’t use a given prompt and instead just used the event theme as a general inspiration. Big shout out to @limjaeseven​ though because he gave me the idea for the story line and more details! Without Cris I would still cry with writers block and not post anything.. so huge thank you!

You huffed in annoyance for the umpteenth time this morning, silently grumbling over your own stupidity.

If you just had kept your mouth shut, you would have nothing to worry about. But no, of course you couldn’t stay quiet and had to add how sorry you were about not having a Christmas themed party this year.

You didn’t feel sorry at all, not liking Christmas and everything around it but everyone had seemed so down and devastated when Youngjae announced he couldn’t hold the celebration like he usually did.

Once your fake pity had left your lips, Bambam that sneaky little bastard piped up, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Y/N, your flat is big enough for all of us as well. We could celebrate at your place!”

You had seen the easy smile leaving Jaebeom’s lips while everyone else glowed up with hope. All eyes had been on you, waiting expectantly for your answer. You had laughed nervously and scratched your cheek in thought, averting your eyes. “I guess..”

“Wonderful!” Youngjae had interrupted you, while he pulled you into a hug.

“Then it’s settled”, Jinyoung had said with a satisfied smile, “thanks Y/N and Jaebeom for letting us celebrate at your place.”

Jaebeom had only nodded with a forced smile on his face while he still stared at you.

You knew you were doomed the second Bambam had spoken up. You knew you would get to hear Jaebeom complain about having a Christmas party at home when both of you disliked everything revolving around Christmas.

Especially because Jaebeom didn’t even try to help you so far. The whole morning you were rushing around the apartment and decorating everything while not trying to fall over his cats and Jaebeom just sat on the couch; either watching you silently or playing with his phone.

Another huff left your lips. You tried to decorate the tree, which you had bought yesterday just like every Christmas decoration and food and ingredients and whatever you thought would be needed for a Christmas party, but sadly enough you were too short to reach the top.

“I know I messed up but could you at least help me a little bit? There is still so much to do and I can’t do everything at once.”

“No.”

You gritted your teeth, seeing that he didn’t even look up. “Okay, fine, I understand. You’re still pissed that this Christmas celebration is at our place. But guess what, I did not want it to be here either, because I hate this stupid holiday just as much as you but at least I am trying to swallow my pride for the sake of our friends.”

“You didn’t have to invite them.”

“I did not invite them!” You snapped, trembling with anger. “I got interrupted before I could decline and sorry I am not cold hearted enough to crush their hope once I saw how happy they were.”

Jaebeom kept quiet and still avoided looking at you, which fueled your anger even more. He just continued to sit on the couch, playing with his phone.

“You know what? Fuck it. I should have agreed to Mark helping me but no I told him I had this sweet loving boyfriend, who could help me if I actually needed it. I should have known this sweet loving boyfriend decided to fucking ignore me because his hatred for Christmas appears to be superior than his love to me.”

You saw him flinch out of the corner of your eye but you were too deep into your own rage to register how harsh your words actually sounded. Instead you carelessly grabbed a chair and dragged it loudly over the floor. You really wanted to smash something, seeking that sweet satisfaction after destroying something but you refrained yourself from doing so. You just grabbed some Christmas ornaments with shaking hands and stepped onto the chair.

For a moment you feared the chair would fall over from how violently your body trembled but you were too proud to step down again and wait until you had calmed.

“Where do you need help?” Jaebeom suddenly appeared next to you and secured the chair. He still didn’t look at you but one of his hands held your hip and a thumb gently rubbed circles into it.

“It’s fine”, you quipped, “I messed up so I have to do everything on my own, right?”

Jaebeom sighed and leaned his head against your stomach, continuing to rub small circles into your side. He knew you would soften at this action and would stop being so petty once you were calm enough again.

You could feel your resolve breaking down, especially because you knew your outburst had been a little too much for something like Christmas.

Sooner than later your fingers ran through his hair and you hummed lovingly, when Jaebeom wrapped both his arms around you.

“You’re still an ass though”, you mumbled.

“I know, but I’m your ass.”

You chuckled lowly and smiled gently once Jaebeom finally looked up to you, his chin prepped on your stomach. You traced your thumb over his cheekbone slowly, appreciating every little detail on his face.

“So, where can I help you?”

You sighed and for a second you wanted to deny his help again, knowing you had to fix your problems on your own, but then you remembered something. “There is actually something. I forgot to buy a mistletoe yesterday, would you be so sweet and get one?”

He nodded and his hold around you tightened before he lifted you from the chair and placed you on the ground. His arms sliding from your thighs up to your back. “I can decorate the top of the tree when I come back.” Jaebeom leaned down and placed small kisses on your cheeks.

“It’s fine. I can use this chair and getting that mistletoe is more than enough help.” You cupped his face and got on your toes to kiss him on the lips.

You instantly melted into the kiss once he reciprocated it, his soft lips dancing with yours. You felt his hands wandering down your back and it took everything within you to break the kiss again. “We don’t have the time right now”, you whispered with your eyes still closed.

“Not even a little bit?”

A laugh escaped your lips when you saw his pout and puppy eyes directed towards you. “No, not even a little bit. But I promise you once this party is over we have all the time we want.”

“I’ll come back to that promise.” Jaebeom kissed you one more time before he let go of you and walked to the entrance door. “Don’t hurt yourself while I’m gone”, he shouted over his shoulder, concern shortly washing over him.

“I won’t!”

You heard the front door open and close again shortly after, leaving you alone in the apartment. Your gaze fell on the clock on the wall, reminding you all over again that you had no time to just stand around.

You still needed to decorate the top of the tree, cook and bake various dishes and get yourself presentable before everyone would arrive.

While you rushed back to your tasks, Jaebeom got into his car about to start the engine when he realised he had no idea where to get a mistletoe from.

Not wanting to appear stupid, he decided to search the internet for answers. The tradition of hanging a mistletoe somewhere in your home wasn’t really common in South Korea and Jaebeom used the chance to research the whole matter a little more.

He learnt about the myth behind the mistletoe, the origin, the distribution and even the classification of the mistletoe. Though, even after ten minutes of research he hadn’t found a store saying they sold mistletoes.

Jaebeom tensed his jaw, feeling already annoyed at the prospect of a simple task turning more complicated than he originally thought. He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, deciding to try every flower shop around in search of a mistletoe.

He would have never anticipated the Odyssey he went on. The flower shops were either sold out or never had a mistletoe in stock and with each failure Jaebeom’s frustration increased.

You, on the other hand, had no idea about his ordeal, decorating the apartment and creating dishes over dishes almost happily. You just ignored the fact everything was supposed to be for Christmas and just thought of it as a nice get-together with your closest friends and their significant others. Thinking about it, you actually liked hosting parties, maybe you’d volunteer for a different holiday next year, a holiday you loved. Though you wanted to talk about it with Jaebeom first since he lived here as well.

After you pushed a cheesecake into the fridge, meaning you only had to clean the kitchen before you could get ready for yourself, you noticed how much time had passed and wondered what was taking your boyfriend so long. Still, you decided to clean the kitchen, trusting him to call you should he have any troubles.

Even after cleaning everything, Jaebeom didn’t come back and your restlessness grew with every passing second. There wasn’t much time before the first guests would arrive, since not everyone in your friend group came fashionably late like Bambam. Especially not Jackson, who somehow liked to be everywhere on point or even better half an hour early.

With another glance towards the time you sighed and grabbed fresh clothes to get presentable. You hadn’t been long in the shower when you heard the front door slamming shut.

“Jaebeom?”

No answer. You turned the water off and peaked out of the shower, calling for him again. “Did you get it?”

“Yeah.”

You didn’t pick on his gruff voice, the relief washing over your body clouding your hearing. “Wonderful! Would you pin it over the door frame to the living room?” You shouted into the apartment. “You can join me in the shower after you’ve done that.”

Jaebeom didn’t answer you, instead he just pinned the plant where you wanted it with an annoyed grunt. He looked over it one more time, gritting his teeth. Before he could get more irritated he just turned around and walked into the bathroom.

You squealed and jumped slightly when his cold fingers glided over your sides and pulled you against his body. With a smile you leaned against his chest. “Thank you.”

He hummed lowly and turned the both of you around until he stood underneath the warm water.

“Hey”, you protested with a laugh and a shiver ran over your body from the loss of warmth. You turned around in his hold and playfully pouted at him. Though once you saw his tired face you dropped the act, concern building inside of you instead. “You okay?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and Jaebeom nearly didn’t hear your question over the water running down his head. “Huh? Oh, yeah, it’s okay. Just want to get over with everything.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Hmm, I’m more concerned about what’s to come.”

You leaned your head against his chest and hugged him tightly. After a while your fingers started to trace over his back, helping his tense muscles to unwind again. “Try to look at it as a simple get-together, yeah? That’s what I do, I ignore the fact why we have it in the first place.”

Jaebeom chuckled and hugged you back, resting his cheek on the crown of your head. “I’ll try that. How about we try something else now?” His hand wandered from your back to your ass and grabbed it, pulling you even closer against him.

You gasped feeling his slowly hardening length pressed against your stomach. You felt your own desire rising inside your lower regions but your mind blocked it. Debating with yourself, you were so caught up in your mind that you didn’t notice Jaebeom leaning down and starting to kiss a trail from your ear down to your collarbone.

Only when he sucked on your sensitive spot right above your collar a moan tore you out of your thoughts again. “Ah, fuck it. They can wait”, you whimpered and tilted your head back, giving him better access.

A smirk appeared on Jaebeom’s lips at your words, his other hand immediately grabbed your free cheek and squeezed it roughly. “Good choice”, he growled and kissed you vigorously.

More whimpers and moans threatened to spill out your mouth when he started to rub his length against your body. Your fingers ran down his chest until you could trace them along his shaft. You gently used a fingernail to trail it over his penis, making Jaebeom shiver violently.

Without any warning he spun you around and pressed your back against the cold tiles of the shower.

The minute you opened your mouth in shock from the cold, Jaebeom slid his tongue inside of it.

You barely even noticed how he started to push two fingers inside of you, thrusting them almost harshly into you, too occupied by his tongue dominating you.

“Please”, you whimpered when he broke the kiss, groaning at the feeling of your walls already clenching around his fingers.

“Someone’s needy, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

Another groan left Jaebeom’s lips and he pulled his fingers out of you - only to grab underneath your thighs and hoist you up on his hips.

You immediately grabbed onto his length, lining it up with your soaked entrance and giving it a few strokes. You moaned loudly as soon as Jaebeom pressed the tip of his penis inside of you, splitting you open.

Jaebeom grunted lowly when he bottomed out. For a moment he stayed still, needing the time to pace himself.

You took the chance to admire your boyfriend in every little detail. 

He held you tightly, making sure he wouldn’t drop you, and you could see his tensed muscles in his arms and upper body. You wantonly trailed your fingers over his skin, loving every hill and valley created from his muscles. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck just as your legs were wrapped around his hips. Your hands already played with his locks and you carefully leaned forward until you met his lips.

You kissed him sweetly, savouring every second of it. When you leaned back again your eyes roamed over his features, smiling softly at the small crease between his brows and his tense jaw. You slowly traced a few fingers over his face, worshipping the two moles over his eye, his sharp cheekbones, his jawline and his soft lips.

“I love you.”

Jaebeom turned his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand. “Love you more.”

Before you could protest, Jaebeom pulled a little back just to push himself even harder inside of you. Motivated by your moans he slowly increased the speed to thrust inside of you.

You could feel the knot tightening in your lower stomach, just waiting for the last push to snap.

“Touch yourself!”

“Huh?” You needed a moment to realise Jaebeom had said something. 

“Touch yourself.”

The words finally wafted through your clouded mind, making you moan in excitement. You knew with your own touch you could make that knot snap inside of you, something you wanted desperately to happen.

You pulled one of your arms away from Jaebeom’s neck and placed your hand right underneath your throat. Through half lidded eyes you saw Jaebeom focusing on your hand and with a satisfied moan you let your hand slide over your chest further down.

You watched Jaebeom following your every move, feeling even hotter than you had before. You looked down as well, seeing his length thrusting deep into you relentlessly. Your hand eagerly reached your clit. You bit down on your bottom lip and held the anticipation a little longer before you finally pressed down on your throbbing nob.

A shot of white hot electricity spread through your body and you moaned loudly from the sensation.

You barely heard Jaebeom curse underneath his breath when you instinctively clenched around his shaft. “That’s my girl”, he breathed, his eyes still trained on your fingers. “Get yourself worked up. I want you to cum on my dick.”

You whimpered and pressed and circled your clit even harder than before. Your breathing accelerated and steam wasn’t the only thing now clouding your vision. You were so close you could feel it, and tears of frustration from not cumming fast enough built up in your eyes.

“That’s it. You’re doing so good for me, baby.” Jaebeom grunted and looked back up to see your face, loving the expression on it whenever you came. “Look at me.”

Your gaze immediately flipped up to his face. The second your eyes met and you were able to see his desire and love within them, your knot snapped. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head while you moaned deeply and spasmed around Jaebeom’s penis.

You could feel him twitch inside you right before he came himself and shot his semen into you, the white long ropes now painting your insides.

“That was amazing.”

Jaebeom hummed satisfied and slipped out of you again. He slowly lowered your legs until you stood back on your feet. Seeing your wobbly stance, he kept his arms around your body and waited for you to be a little more stable before he grabbed your lotion.

You smiled lovingly when Jaebeom opened the bottle and poured some of it into his palm. He gently started to soap you, kissing you whenever he looked up, and made sure to clean you. 

Even though you wanted to return the favour he just kissed you again and told you to get yourself ready before the guests arrived.

Reminded of the fact you actually awaited your friends any time now, you reluctantly agreed and stepped out of the shower.

Despite your little intimacy both of you got ready before any of the guys arrived, cuddling on the couch until the doorbell rang.

You got up and pulled Jaebeom with you to the door, opening it to see all of your friends waiting there. Playing over your surprise, you let them in and told them to make themselves feel at home.

Once all of them greeted you and Jaebeom they scattered around. Jackson and Youngjae immediately took off for the open kitchen, where all the food just waited to be eaten by the guests.

You linked arms with Jaebeom and smiled gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. You felt him kiss the crown of your head before both of you decided to walk back into the apartment.

“Where are your Christmas sweaters?” Bambam asked you in an accusing tone as soon as both of you stepped back into the living room.

You glanced at Jaebeom before you looked down at your own body. “Uhm, we have sweaters on?”

“No, no, no! This won’t do”, Bambam told you and turned around, “Youngjae, do you have the Christmas sweaters I asked you for?”

Your eyes widened in horror, hearing those words. You gulped visibly and turned to Jaebeom, seeing him tense up. You even saw a muscle in his jaw tick before your attention turned back to Youngjae and Bambam.

Both of them handed you and Jaebeom each one Christmas sweater. They watched you patiently unfold it, holding it high in front of your face.

The sweater was held in bright red and green colours; bright enough to be obnoxiously ugly. A winter theme was displayed on the front and the wool felt heavy and thick between your fingers.

You scrunched up your nose, hating this sweater before you even tried it.

“Hell no!” Jaebeom cursed and threw the clothing back towards Bambam. “I will not wear this monstrum.”

You noticed the worried looks from everyone while Jaebeom threw his tantrum and you sighed. Biting down on your bottom lip, you grabbed the second sweater as well and placed both of them over your arm before you grabbed Jaebeom’s arm and pulled him with you.

“I will not wear this thing!”

With a scoff you closed the bedroom door behind the both of you. “Do you really think I'd like to wear something this disgusting?”

“Then don’t.”

“It’s not about what we want right now”, you hiss and push one of the sweaters into his chest. “Wear it and once they are gone we can burn it.”

“No.”

“Jaebeom, please.”

“No.”

“Please”, you whined, feeling tears already threatening to fall from the distress you felt. “Please, whatever you want, I’ll do it, but please, please wear this sweater until the party is over.”

“Anything?”

“Anything, just please.”

“Fine”, he grumbled and changed his sweater with the Christmas one, “be prepared to not sleep tonight.”

Your heart stopped beating for a millisecond and the air got trapped in your lungs. You stared at him with wide eyes.

Jaebeom smirked when he saw your reaction. He leaned down to your ear, nibbling at it slightly before he whispered with a husky voice: “You said anything.”

With that he left the room and you definitely needed the solitude to calm yourself down. Right after beating again, your heart went crazy, pumping as if you just ran a hundred miles. You could feel the heat increasing inside of you and desperately fanned some air towards yourself to cool down again.

Several minutes later you walked out of the room, changed and calm, again, ready to mingle with the rest.

Thankfully Jaebeom tried to enjoy the festivity and joked around with Jackson and Yugyeom. He smirked at you for a second when you entered the room before he threw himself back into their antics.

You took a deep breath and decided to join Jinyoung on the couch, who slightly waved with a bottle of mulled wine and a sly grin on his lips.

“Never thought of you as being so in the spirit of Christmas”, he grinned once you plopped down next to him.

“Am not.”

“Drained already?” 

Mark appeared next to you with a laugh, knowing your dislike towards Christmas all too well. He grabbed one of the empty mugs on the table and held it towards Jinyoung, waiting for him to pour him some of the wine. “You know the party has just begun?”

You groaned and turned away from him. “I don’t need that reminder.”

“Don’t worry Y/N, Jackson will throw us out in time.” Jinyoung laughed.

“He will?”

“No, but you can still hope for us being considerate enough.”

You groaned again and hid your face in Jinyoung’s shoulder, knowing the guys were everything but that.

“Just enjoy your time with us, Y/N. You outdid yourself with everything, the decorations, the food. I didn’t even know you had all this stuff.”

“We didn’t, if you want anything just take it with you when you go.” You told Mark and waved your hand around dismissively.

Still, you thought about his words and deemed them as true. You should enjoy this. With a final sigh you straightened yourself again and grabbed for an empty mug as well, grinning at Jinyoung when you held it towards him.

The evening progressed peacefully with playing games, eating food and drinking mulled wine. Seeing that even Jaebeom appeared to be relaxed, you had started to truly enjoy the night as well.

Only deep into the night Bambam yelled drunkenly through the apartment. “Y/N?! What's that over your door?”

You instinctively knew he referred to the mistletoe Jaebeom had bought, thinking Bambam didn’t know about the tradition with it, you wanted to explain it to him but he interrupted you.

“It's hideous!” With that he bursted into a laughing fit, falling on the floor and holding his stomach.

Confused, you turned your attention to the mistletoe. You blinked several times, staring at that thing dangling from your ceiling. Despite seeing a mistletoe basically only once a year, you were pretty sure this wasn’t one.

You got up from the couch and walked over to the door frame, your eyes glued to the plant. “It should be a mistletoe?”

It was everything but a mistletoe you realised once you stood underneath it.

“That’s not a mistletoe”, Yugyeom joined, laughing just as loud as Bambam now.

You glanced towards them with a frown on your face before you stared back up. You knew it wasn’t a mistletoe but it was supposed to be one.

“It’s a halfparasetic plant. The closest thing to a mistletoe I could find.” Jaebeom announced loudly while he walked up to you. “And it works just as fine.” He wrapped one arm around your body and pulled you closer to him. With the other he cupped your cheek and leaned down, kissing you deeply.

You automatically closed your eyes, melting into the kiss. You forgot about the others and snaked your arms around his neck, pulling Jaebeom even more into you.

Jaebeom smirked against your lips and slid his tongue over your bottom one, teasing you.

“I really hate Christmas”, you whispered, glancing shortly up to the fake mistletoe before you scoffed in amusement and kissed Jaebeom again.

© all rights reserved

[yoobikook]

These special pics flashed away in just a second in the MV but we ARMYs can go as low as 0.25x to capture these precious moments of our 7 dorks😭💜

[nocturne-overtures]

Kinktober Day 17

Pairing: SuperM x Gender Neutral Reader

WC: 600+

Prompt: Bukkake

Genre: Smut

Tags: Blowjobs, Handjobs, Circle Jerk, Bukkake, Light Face Fucking

A/N: The full M.List for Kinktober is here, and I’ll be posting and adding links to that post as I go. The prompts span several fandoms, so feel free to check the list to see if you’re interested in any of the future days

Day 16                             Day 18

AO3

"Are...you serious?"

 "Yep."

 "Like...all of us?"

 "What, you never heard of a circle jerk and bukkake?"

 Mark sputters somewhere behind Jongin and Lucas lets out a laugh, seemingly in disbelief. Baekhyun rubs his temples before he points at you. 

 "You want us to cum on your face?"

 "Yep."

 He waits for you to start laughing and say sike, but it becomes increasingly obvious that you meant it. Taeyong looks back and forth between everyone, startled and Ten crosses his arms, waiting for someone to make a move. 

 It ends up being Taemin, as he reaches for the button of his pants, popping it open.

 "Y/N wants us to cum on them, I don't think it's that hard of a concept to grasp."

 "Thank you, Taemin"

 Mark makes a flustered sound that rivals a bird squawk of some sort as you scoot forward, opening your mouth. Taemin's soft lips curl upwards as you take him in your mouth without hesitation as soon as he pulled his cock free. 

 The other boys exchange flustered looks with one another, waiting for someone else to move. 

 Ten ends up being next, sending the boys a ‘why not?’ look as he stood beside Taemin. He let you pull his sweats down, sighing out praises to you as you wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him in time with the bobs of your head. 

 A large hand cups your chin, pulling you off of Taemin’s cock before your head was turned to the left, looking up and nearly going cross-eyed as Lucas held his cock directly in your face. You swallow slightly at the challenge before sticking your tongue out, running your tongue along the length. Lucas sent you a wink and thrust into your mouth. He was definitely rougher than Taemin, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. 

 “You don’t have to be so shy, baby.” Kai’s voice came from behind Taemin, and you peeked over to the best of your ability, finding Mark blushing and covering his face as Jongin and Taeyong peppered his neck with kisses. Jongin pumped him to full hardness, pressed against the smaller idol’s back chuckling as Mark shuddered when Taeyong brushed over his nipples. The 127 leader had dipped his hand under the hem of Mark’s shirt to gain access, smiling as the shaking whine that left the Canadian boy’s throat. 

 “Lucas, don’t hog them up.” Baekhyun scolds and you smile around Lucas as he pouts, reluctantly pulling off of you. You remedy it by stroking him and Taemin, taking Ten in your mouth. One by one, you alternate between stroking and blowing them, smiling when Taeyong and Jongin nudge Mark forward to you. 

 “I-Is...Is this okay?” He questions. You nod, sliding Baekhyun-who came over first-out of your mouth. Mark shudders at the sight of your spit-slick lips and lets you take him in your mouth. Taeyong’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, guiding you back and forth while Jongin kissed Ten over Mark’s shoulder, effectively trapping him between the two of him while casually keeping him from shying away from the heat of your mouth. 

 The maknae cums first, and Taeyong keeps your head down on him, cooing to you to swallow it all before he gently pulls you back. You look up at them all and stick your tongue out, closing your eyes. Someone curses from your left-probably Lucas-and you feel long ropes of cum land over your cheek and chin. An airy, melodious moan lets you know Taemin is close, and the sweet pearls of cum that falls along your lips and tongue confirms it. 

 One by one, the boys cum on your face and neck until each of them have been satisfied. You look up, chancing opening your eyes. Part of you was impressed and satisfied by the face that no one came along your lashes or in your hair. 

 You lick at your slightly swollen lips, hearing Baekyhun laugh with a ‘ah, seriously, Y/n’ before Taemin and Taeyong straighten up first, moving to get wet wipes to help you clean up while Lucas and Ten tease a still flustered Mark. 

[flora-jimin]

Kinktober Day 11

Pairing: Namjoon x Genderless Reader

WC: 300+(ew. I’ve never written anything so short before in my life. Gonna break out into hives or some shit-)

Prompt: Aftercare

Tags: Mentions of Impact Play, Mentions of Hair Pulling, Aftercare

A/N:  The full M.List for Kinktober is here, and I’ll be posting and adding links to that post as I go. The prompts span several fandoms, so feel free to check the list to see if you’re interested in any of the future days

Day 10                       Day 12

AO3

“You did well today.” 

You let out a low whimper, feeling large hands run over the backs of your thighs and ass. You could tell there were welts there from the spanking and striking you’d received earlier, and your body reacted accordingly, jolting away from the large hands running over them with cooling gel. 

“It’s okay. Hey, just let me rub you down, Y/n. We can watch frozen 2 after this.” 

You look back, looking into your boyfriend’s eyes. 

Namjoon’s eyes held a kind, patient look in them. Leagues different from the dark twinkle they held in them just half an hour ago. 

The thought made a low whine pull from your chest and Namjoon smiled in understanding, working the lotion over the wounds before he sat back on his haunches. 

“Hm. You may have a few thin scabs in a few days, but nothing too bad. I’m so proud of you.” He praised, circling strong arms around you and carrying you into the bedroom. 

Water from the bath he had given you clung to your hair before he settled you on the bed, placing you delicately on your stomach as he dried your hair. You smile softly, closing your eye as he draped a towel over your shoulders before he stepped away. 

This was one of your favorite parts of aftercare. 

He came back a minute later with a blowdryer in hand, gently drying your hair before taking his time massaging your scalp with his long fingers. 

He had pulled rather hard….

A low mewl leaves your lips as Namjoon gently combs through your hair, working some sweet-smelling hair product into it. Your shoulders relax even more as Namjoon brushes your hair before he leans down and presses a kiss to your head. 

“You really did so well. I love you, Y/n.” He cooed, picking you up and carrying you to the head of the bed. You smile happily, kissing all over his face as you rest your head in his lap. He was careful to keep you off your bottom for the time being, turning on the movie as he idly massaged your shoulders and the back of your neck. 

As the sound of Disney singing lulled you to sleep as Namjoon watched over you. 

[seokmins]

Fairy Kiss — PJM

“Minnie,” you cooed into his ear, “did you know when a fairy kisses their true love while in human form, their wings will appear?”

【ᴮᵀˢ ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ || ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳᵖᵒˢᵗ】

💞 🄿🄰🄸🅁🄸🄽🄶: Park Jimin x female!reader 📚 🄶🄴🄽🅁🄴: Fluff, Minor angst, Fairy!au    🌟 🅁🄰🅃🄸🄽🄶: R  💬 ⓌⒸ: 2.2k   ⚠️ 🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: Intense make-out session I guess (it’s so long i’m sorry), Jimin stutters a lot, Mentions of blood, Suspected kidnapping, Smoking, Mentions of death.

💫 (っ  ◔◡◔)っɛƖ۷'ʂ ŋơɬɛʂ 💕:

Going through my WIPs, I found out that I have not given Jimin an easy time lolol so I decided to write something... but my hand slipped. Anyways, this little drabble is just in time for his birthday — so happy birthday Chim (and happy Jimtober to the rest of y’all)!! 💖

Also, I hate it here, I might make this a ‘series’ as in a collection of drabbles set in this universe so be on the look out! :D 

“You’re so pretty, you have to be a fairy.”

Nervous giggles erupted from your boyfriend’s plump lips as a blush made its way up his neck and to his cheeks from the ogling you weren’t even trying to hide. You’d taken to shamelessly rapid-firing compliments at the lovely man sitting next to you. After all, he definitely piqued your interest more than the boring movie that had been droning on for an hour.

Yes, Park Jimin had you completely enraptured. From his silver hair that glowed like moonlight and eyes that held a galaxy within them, your own traced down the gentle slope of his nose to the chiseled edge of his jaw. While you marveled at how such a man had to have lips as soft as the clouds above, your favorite part of your boyfriend had to be his ears.

Right now, you edge closer to him only to latch your teeth gently on the lobe of his ear, teasing your tongue around the delicate silver hoops that he often wore. A gift from you in commemoration of your first date.

“[Y- [Y/N] — ” Jimin stuttered out your name, his arm hovering awkwardly around your waist as if unsure he should stop or touch you.

Of course, you would prefer the latter.

“Minnie,” you cooed into his ear, “did you know when a fairy kisses their true love while in human form, their wings will appear?”

He gulped and you smiled into the crook of his neck. This is what you loved about him — that innocent air he always exuded paired with equally innocent reactions to your seductive advances. Delicious.

“I-is that s-so?” 

You only hummed, continuing your assault that had switched to kisses and love bites up and down the expanse of his neck instead. Once more, Jimin was pulled under the beguiling spell called you which meant you could do as you please, movie long forgotten. A thrill ran through you — to think that you could have this angelic man give up all control and submit to you.

But you never pushed him too far, after all, you had only been officially dating a month. You had known him since childhood, that day you had accidentally stumbled into a stranger’s garden to be met by the sight of a boy whose smile was as bright as the sun. Even then, there was an ethereal air about him and it still surprised you to this day that Mother Nature created such a flawless human like himself. 

And he was all yours for the taking.

In your opinion, he embodied the essence of spring itself despite being born under the autumn moon. Pulling away to look at your artful masterpiece of bruises littering his skin now shiny from your saliva had you grinning with smugness. The boy you’d visited and grown up alongside was now a man whose chest heaved like he’d run a marathon, pupils blown wide from your administrations. It was only with the blessing of grace and elegance bestowed upon you, you managed to straddle him in a way that had him trembling like a newborn fawn. Your eyes followed the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips, an action that had you subconsciously do the same.

It was then that you noticed the shift as he looked up at you. Jimin’s eyes burned with the flare of a thousand stars in determination versus the starry-eyed look you were so familiar with. That was when you came to the shocking realization that your gentle boyfriend wasn’t trembling in uncertainty.... no, rather he was restraining himself — but from what? You couldn’t stop the sly smirk from appearing on your lips as your thoughts collected. He wanted something.

You.

“Minnie, do you want me to kiss you?” 

“I-I...”

“Use your words, baby,” you purred. Ducking back down, you were only a breath away from his lips that had him freezing before moving over to Jimin’s other ear you’d neglected. You gently tugged on his helix piercing and continued whispering sweet nothings. “I won’t do anything unless you tell me it’s okay.”

“I...”

“C’mon, love, tell me.”

“Don’t w-wanna hurt you...”

That had you chuckling as you pulled away only to stop as your boyfriend’s head drooped, eyebrows twitching as he struggled to contain his hurt at your obvious mirth. Jimin was like an open book you loved to read, knowing that every emotion he felt was expressed vividly for you to see.

“Babyyyy~” With a flick of your finger underneath his chin, your eyes captured his. “I’m not some fragile wildflower, you’re welcome to pick and deflower me as you wish.”

You reveled in the awestruck way he gazed at you, it made you want to tease him even more. Leaning in closer, you touched his nose to yours, a rather soft gesture for the words that came out of your mouth. 

“I won’t break.”

All you wanted was a simple kiss. It had only been a month since you finally secured this man as your own despite knowing him for so long. If you riled him up enough perhaps you’d be getting more than just a kiss... but then again, you might have to work even harder for that.

“O-okay.” Jimin’s hands finally landed where they belonged around your waist.

“Do you want to become a fairy that bad?”

“Yeah.”

“Even when you’re already so pretty?”

In a burst of adrenaline to finally silence your never-ending praise of his looks, Jimin took the plunge to press his lips against yours. Despite the refreshing coolness of your skin against his, he felt like he was burning up and the way you smiled against his lips had him ache for more to try and gain the upper hand. His tongue slid out to glide across your lips the way your own had earlier and you eagerly opened your mouth to let him explore.

He groaned. Your mouths moved in sync with one another, tasting each other’s unique essence. The way Jimin tasted like a cool mint despite how hot he burned like the sun underneath you had your head spinning. Contrarily, your boyfriend couldn’t say what moonlight tasted like before kissing you but now he wondered if the Milky Way was imbued within your skin and how other places on your body were flavored.

Again and again, the both of you fought for dominance between the hot breaths you exchanged, a well-suited role you easily slipped in due to your demeanor. Even if he failed, Jimin was determined to put up a good fight, give you a show you enjoyed. By now though, your sweet whimpers only fueled him to see you surrender to him — it would only be seconds before you were completely under his spell.

But alas, all good things had to come to an end, especially with his lungs crying out for air. Much to his chagrin, Jimin pulled away first but he felt the smallest amount of victory at the way you immediately followed his lips as he pulled back. 

You made a soft sound of discontent as your eyes fluttered open to lazily watch your boyfriend lean back. Closing his eyes as he wheezed gently to recollect his breath, Jimin’s hands stealthily slid under your shirt to knead the flesh around your hips and making his way up to your back. You leaned forward and pressed your chest to his as your head flew back with pleasure at his warm hands.

His hands made their way up your back to sneakily reach for the clasp he could unfasten to have your soft chest easily mold to his. Higher and higher they crept to lift the band of satin around right under your shoulder blades until he hissed in pain.

Blinking his eyes open in surprise at the sudden sting, Jimin retracted his hand from underneath your shirt. He stared as blood began to fill the tiny gash located on his finger while you gasped and grabbed his finger.

“Baby, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m — ”

Jimin’s sentence broke off as all befuddled pain left his mind as he stared open-mouthed at you in awe.

Sure, the way your lips were swollen as a result of his own greedy actions had his ego swelling in pride but what drew his attention was the sudden angularity of your gentle face. He always marveled how you practically floated when you walked, the perfect picture of grace and beauty. How plants seemed to lean towards the same way he did like you were their own personal sun. The way the air smelled just a little bit sweeter and the room a little brighter when you walked inside.

Just like now, how the light emanating from the glowing appendages fluttering gently on your back. It all made sense — you were a fucking fairy.

As he stared, your heart rate sped up... and not in a good way. Your wings began to flutter faster, indicating your underlying nervousness. Enough to levitate you up and away from your boyfriend who still was looking at you as if you’d... well... grown two wings.

“I-I’m sorry. You must be disgusted,” you hissed out, wrapping your arms around yourself as you hovered above the ground. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

“W-wha — ”

“If you knew what I truly was, you’d never look at me.”

“I — ”

“And now you never will. I-I even hurt you.” 

Your declaration was spat out harshly and bitterly but it was if you weren’t even talking to Jimin. Every word was loaded with self-loathing as you backed further and further away.

“[Y/N], c-calm down.” The silver-haired man seemed to come to his sense and bolted up to gently grab your wrist. “Please hear me out, okay?”

He led you back to the couch where moments ago you two had been earnestly on top of one another. A stark contrast to the somber mood you were sinking in, insecurity eating away at your usual confidence. It was Jimin’s turn to nudge your chin up to look at him.

“I-I can’t say I’m not surprised... but I could never be disgusted, least of all with m-my girlfriend. I mean — look at you!” His eyes creased into those sweet, crescent-moon shapes that were as lovely as his smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You felt warmth creep up your cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Am not. Besides, i-it’s not a ‘what’ you are, it’s who you are — and I know that you’re a good person, er, f-fairy. I wouldn’t be dating you if you weren’t.”

“Minnie...”

“I-I mean it... I know we are a couple and all but... I really do love you — for you.”

“You really mean it?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’ll stay with me forever?” 

“As long as you’ll let me.”

You smiled, tracing a spiral lazily in the palm of his hand. “Then let’s be together forever, Jimin.”

With a grin, your shy boyfriend leaned in close. “As you wish, my love.”

The two of you resumed the heated activities that had come to an abrupt halt although this time, as you pressed your lips to Jimin’s once more, you both were enveloped in a blaze of golden sparks.

“Happy birthday, Jimin,” you whispered in his ear as you gloated in victory, “ you’ll be mine for all eternity.”

The dew was still fresh upon the grass when Jihyun rushed into the local PD’s building, the sun just beginning to peep its head over the horizon. The young man frantically searched for a sign of life in the quiet building. It wasn’t long before he stumbled upon a door wide open as Commissioner Jeon leaned back in his plush office chair, eyes peacefully closed.

“Sir, how can you just sit there when I’ve called you multiple times?!” 

Jungkook’s eyes opened only slightly, narrowing dangerously at the intruder upon his morning mediation. “And I’ve told you multiple times to be patient, Mr. Park. You can’t expect us to find a missing person within a certain time frame.”

“My brother could be dead.”

“Then that’s his problem,” the commissioner shrugged apathetically. “People go missing all the time, guess he was just one of the unlucky ones.”

“Unlucky,” Jihyung hissed as tears began to well up in his eyes. “The cavalier attitude you treat all these cold cases is disgusting. Seems like this so-called protection service is just a farce and that you’re the problem.”

“Detective Kim. Please escort this gentleman out on your way to the investigation scene.”

“As you wish, sir.” 

“Why you — !”

Jungkook sighed and rubbed his head as Taehyung dragged the cursing, struggling man out of the station. By the time he lit a cigar and leaned back once more to de-stress, the detective had returned, smoothing down the wrinkles in his expensive suit.

“Looks like she’s done it again.”

“We’re going to have to do something, Jeon. Dig up some dead bodies, fake a death — anything to keep these loonies out of here.”

“Or you could tell your sister that I’m tired of cleaning up the aftermath of her desires.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Fine,” Jungkook shrugged, blowing smoke circles in the air as sarcasm laced his following words. “Just let the queen go stupid crazy then, no worries, just a few mortals here and there.”

“She likes them.”

“Until she gets bored and kills them.”

Silence fell over the two men. 

“Maybe this one will be different.”

“Maybe, so. But don’t hold her to it, we may look pretty and gentle but our wings are as sharp as blades, Tae.”

dokyeomblr October 2020: Fairy Kiss ©