#svtsecretsanta

Then a choked laugh rings out from someone𑁋probably Seokmin𑁋and you can feel fire burst out of your ears and swallow you whole. Your body sinks into the couch as the moments pass, feeling as if a million different pairs of eyes were all staring at you, waiting for you to do something.

"Are you serious right now?" You somehow muster up a chance to shoot a daggered glare right at Soonyoung, who was staring at you back so innocently.

You should have expected this, should have known better than to agree to join your friends' ridiculous game of truth or dare. But now, here you were. And as if the whole situation wasn't embarrassing enough, your eyes instinctively drift to Jeonghan across the room.

He was doing everything but being interested in the game, sitting on the couch right next to Seungcheol𑁋your older brother𑁋with his feet up on the coffee table and his arms crossed, rolling his eyes jokingly at whatever Seungcheol was saying.

Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who caught your eyes years ago when your brother brought him home for the first time. Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who used to ruffle your hair in the hallways back in high school and tease you about bombing your math exams, not realising how those little interactions meant to you. Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who never seemed to notice how much you'd grown since then, how much more you wanted him now.

Yoon Jeonghan, the boy who had always been lurking in the corners of your heart, but never fully in your reach. And you've accepted that fate a long time ago.

A lump forms in your throat. You already know this is going to be a disaster, especially with your friends staring at you like hawks, but it's not like you can choose someone else.

No, your eyes just had to gravitate straight to Jeonghan. Your brother's best friend.

Taking a deep breath, you find your feet begin to move on their own, dragging you across the room to where Seungcheol and Jeonghan were sitting.

You notice how calm Jeonghan is, how effortlessly relaxed he looks simply minding his own business, and it only seems to make everything worse, because you're about to do something that might just haunt you for the rest of your life.

When you approach closer, you hear the whispers of your friends behind your back. Jeonghan glances up from his spot on the couch, his brow raising upon your presence.

"Um..." You croak out nervously. "Hi."

It's just a game, You remind yourself. Just a game.

Jeonghan looks at you quizzically for a moment, and then his lips curl into a faint smile. But you don't detect any amusement in his features, any hint he might tease you senseless𑁋just a warm, easygoing expression that almost makes you forget why you're standing here.

"What's up?" he simply asks, and it's enough for you to beg the world to crush you.

"I, uh..." You seriously want to slap yourself in the face right now. "I pick you."

His eyes widen slightly, and your stomach ties itself into a knot.

"Me?" he questions.

"Uh, yeah." You nod quickly, dipping your head down guiltily. "We're supposed to... stand under the, um... mistletoe?"

Jeonghan doesn't answer right away, just glancing between Seungcheol's suspicious eyes towards the two of you and the mistletoe that stands proudly above the doorway to the living room.

Then he just fucking smirks.

"Well then," He takes his feet off the coffee table and stands up. "Lead the way."

Seungcheol opens his mouth to say something, but you're already walking away before he could get a word out. Each step feels heavier than the last as you trudge towards the stupid mistletoe, with Jeonghan casually following behind you.

When you reach the spot beneath the mistletoe, you stand there awkwardly, unsure of where to go from there. Jeonghan stands right in front of you, way closer than you anticipated, and you have to fight the urge to meet his eyes.

"So..." You turn back towards your friends. "Game over, right?"

"Of course not!" Seungkwan chimes in, shaking his head. "You still have to kiss, duh."

You're this close to kicking every single one of your friends in the shin.

"I𑁋That was not part of the dare!" You protest, face reddening. "You can't just𑁋"

"No takesie backsies!" Seokmin exclaims, and you give him your friendliest death glare.

You want to die. Or at least crawl into a hole and never come out. That would be nice right now.

"Y/N," he calls out to you, so quietly only you can hear. "It's okay. It's just a stupid dare, right?"

All the words that ache to tumble out of you immediately disperse when you meet his soft eyes. The way he's gazing at you has your legs feeling like jelly, your heart running marathons, your nervous façade crumbling just slightly. You almost forget about how your entire situation is put on display for everyone to watch.

"I won't bite, you know," Jeonghan muses playfully, yet when he catches the worried look on your face, his smirk fades away. "Y/N? Look at me."

You hesitate for a moment, before torturously lifting your head to look up at him. He's so pretty, especially up close, so close you can't help but flicker down to his lips for a second𑁋

"We can just get this over with, yeah?" His eyes hold yours even as he inches closer. "It'll be quick."

It's just a kiss, You tell yourself. Just a kiss.

"Okay," You murmur, feeling your feet root into the floor. "Okay."

Then when he gives you that smile again, you suddenly can't move. Jeonghan places one hand on your shoulder, another one coming up to hover closer to your cheek, though his warmth still seeps within even when he isn't fully touching you.

"Don't worry." He leans in more, his breath ghosting against your skin, and your eyelids flutter to a close. "It's just me."

Your heart pounds so loudly you're sure he can hear it. You can't see his face, but you know he's just a breath away from your mouth.

However, you also don't see the way he pauses right before your quivering lips, how his gaze roams over your face like he's studying you. You hear a chuckle.

"Cute."

Then before you can fully process, the softest touch of his lips land right at the corner of your mouth. It's gentle, light, lingering a few beats longer than necessary, and it's somehow more intimate than a kiss on the lips.

And then like a snap, it's over. Jeonghan pulls away from you slowly, the warmth from his touch spreading through your body like a wildfire. The room erupts into an obnoxious round of applause. You only stand there like a lost child, because the world and your damn brother now all know that you're hopelessly in love with Yoon Jeonghan.

And the worst part? It wasn't just a kiss in front of everyone𑁋he made it feel real.

"I..." You clear your throat, pursing your lips together. "I need a drink."

You're quick to dash towards the kitchen, away from your friends and Jeonghan.

Stepping into the kitchen, the cool air calms your flushed skin. You lean against the counter and let out a groan, burying your face in your hands, willing the heat to leave your face.

"Y/N?"

Shit.

"You okay?"

"No." You give a half-hearted laugh. "because now everyone and my brother knows I have a crush on you."

Jeonghan stands right next to you by the counter, tilting his head to get a better view of your face as he smirks amusedly. You roll your eyes, unable to grasp how much he seems to enjoy seeing you flustered.

"Seriously?" You frown. "You think this is funny? You𑁋"

"I think it's cute," Jeonghan interrupts confidently. "You're cute, and I'd rather kiss you properly than have it be from a stupid dare."

Your jaw drops to the floor, your brain short-circuiting, and you stare at him like he's just told you the most absurd thing in the world. And in a way, it is.

"Don't mess with me, Yoon Jeonghan."

"I'm not," Jeonghan responds affirmatively. "but it's fun watching you squirm."

You groan helplessly. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." He grins, the smugness oozing off him, and it's so infectious that you also smile, because he's right𑁋you don't. "Your brother can kill me for all I care, but..."

Jeonghan steps up to you until there's barely any space left between you two, reaching out to push back a strand of hair behind your ear. This time, when his lips meet yours, it's not a dare; not rushed or pressured, nor a product of your ridiculous friends’ antics. Though brief, it's deliberate, soft, like he's been waiting for this moment as long as you have.

When he pulls back, he shoots you a wink. "...I'll make this worth it for you."

And just like that, Yoon Jeonghan has you completely, hopelessly, irrevocably smitten. You can't decide if you want to slap him or kiss him again.

Before you could remotely question what the hell you just got yourself into, Seungcheol's unmistakable voice booms from the living room.

"Y/N! Jeonghan! Get your asses out here right now!"

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wonwoo is beside you and the book you're reading sits abandoned on your lap as you turn your head slightly to look at wonwoo. you must have been staring at him for a while because without turning, he softly speaks.

"yes my love?", he asks, feeling your gaze on him.

"nothing", you say and he turns to look at you. but of course, he knew you too well.

"really? you don't look at me like that without having something going on in that mind of yours", he says, teasing you lightly and you mentally curse at how well he knew you.

"okay, fine", you say in defeat. you grab your book and put it on wonwoo's lap and his gaze glances down at it before landing on yours again.

"can you read for me, please", you ask, looking at him. "you want me to read to you?", he asks, his voice low and soothing, full of a quiet affection and you nod enthusiastically.

wonwoo chuckles softly and settles further into the blankets, the book still resting on his lap. he reaches for the book gently and handles it with care, because he knows how much your books mean to you. and now, with the books in his hands, he opens it. "alright, let's see what we have here", he says, his voice soft.

you settle down furthur into the warmth of the blankets and he starts reading. you listen as his voice fills the space around you. it wasn't just soothing - it was low, almost husky and sexy in a way and it carried a certain a weight that made every word seem like it mattered more than it should. you try to focus on what he was reading and the actual story, but as his voice dropps lower with each word, and your attention keeps slipping away. his voice had an almost magnetic pull, it was so deep and smooth that it made it impossible to concentrate on what he was reading out. it was the way his voice sounded so effortless, almost mesmerizing in a way.

you gaze drifts to him and you look at the way his glasses sit perfectly on the bridge of his nose and frame his face in such a pretty way, his fluffy hair falling over his forehead. you couldn't help but look at him, admiring the quiet beauty of his features, the way the dim light from the lamp seemed to highlight his sharp jawline and soft lips. you notice the fainsitest shift of his jaw as he reads, the slight movement of his lips as he speaks.

you swallow, trying to pull your thoughts together. focus, you tell yourself. focus on the story. you press your face deeper into his hoodie, trying to hide the flush creeping onto your cheeks. you shift slightly, inching closer to him as you tuck yourself closer to him, your head resting on his chest as the warmth of his body envelopes you. his voice continues, steady and deep, but now you can hear the soft thrum of his heartbeat under your ear, blending with his words. you let out a soft sigh, melting further into him. his voice was so smooth and calming, that it was hard to focus.

wonwoo pauses for a moment, glancing down at the book. then, he looks at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "you’re not listening to a word i’m saying, are you?" he says softly, his voice playful, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.

you feel your heart race, realizing you had gotten lost in him entirely. “i’m listening!” you say, looking at him but he raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "uh-huh? i can tell", he says.

this only makes you bury your face in his hoodie, feeling your heart race. “okay, fine. i gota little distracted. your voice is just… too distracting,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"that’s all it takes to distract you? my voice?”, he teases and you give him a look, feeling your cheeks heat up at the way he was looking at you, making your heart race.

"well, since i’m so distracting," he begins, his voice dipping into that low, teasing tone. "maybe i should give you something even more distracting." he tilts his head slightly and leans in close, his lips brushing against your forehead as he presses a soft kiss on your temple/ you feel your breath catch in your throat at the softness of his touch and he looks at you, his gaze softening.

and without saying another word, he leans in slowly, his lips capturing yours in the softest, most delicate kiss. it wasn’t rushed or forceful; it was as though he was savouring every second. his lips move against yours gently, the touch light and sweet, a kiss that made you feel all warm inside and a little fuzzy in the chest.

when he finally pulls back, he doesn't go far, just resting his forehead against yours. his thumb brushes across your cheek gently and then as if he coudln't resist, he places another soft sweet kiss on your lights, making you smile against his lips. you pull away slightly and your hands instinctively wrap around his neck, your fingers softly threading through his hair and the action feels almost effortless, a natural response to the way you’re drawn to him in this quiet, intimate moment.

“why are you so sweet?” you whisper, your voice still soft, a little breathless from the kiss, but full of warmth.

wonwoo’s smile grows at your words, and he leans in again, this time just enough to place a brief kiss on your nose. “because you make me this way,” he murmurs, his voice full of sincerity. his arms shift, and now they’re pulling you a little closer, his embrace tightening around you just a little. “do you want me to keep reading?", he asks lowly after a moment.

you smile up at him, feeling the comfort of being close to him and the peaceful warmth of his embrace. “yeah, keep reading,” you whisper, snuggling closer into his embrace and he shifts his hand so it wraps around you. “i like hearing you read", you mumble out and he lets out a low chuckle as you rest your head on his chest.

there was just something about his voice, the way it wrapped around you, that made everything feel safe, like nothing else mattered right now. as wonwoo continues to read, you can feel the tension in your body slowly melt away, the peaceful quiet of the moment lulling you into a sense of security. you don’t even mind that you’re no longer paying attention to the story, it doesn’t matter. all that matters is that you’re here, right now, with him, in his arms, and it feels like everything is exactly as it should be.

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@wheeboo

Five days a week, like clockwork, Jeonghan would emerge bleary eyed from the bedroom to the doorway where you’re slipping on your shoes, hugging you for the last time before you have to leave for the day. 

Five days a week, like clockwork, you get to the library to set up your things at your desk by the window, with just the right amount of sunlight, not right under the vent, and certainly not by the busy library entrance. 

Five days a week, like clockwork, you always seem to neglect to pack a minor need in your bag before leaving, insignificant things like an eraser or a specific charging cable, but annoying just the same. 

It didn’t take long before the sneaking suspicion of it all began to creep at your thoughts, but not a single suspect in sight or mind. 

You began to pack your bags the night before instead, double checking and leaving it beside the door before retiring for the night. The next day, you shuffle through your bag one more time, at the door right where you left it, before you’re out the door for the day. The mental checklist is all ticked and sorted, and you’re determined you’ve left nothing behind. 

Halfway through closing the front door behind you, you hear a distinct call. “Wait!” 

Jeonghan opens the door, still half asleep. One of the legs of pyjama pants have ridden up to his knees, the other side, the waistband is dropping below his underwear. Safe to say, he’s frazzled. 

He meets you at the threshold, gesturing you to let him hug you before you leave. You speak into his ear as he squeezes you tight. “You don’t have to do this everyday, Han. I promise I’ve never forgotten your good morning kisses, no matter how loud you’re snoring.”

“Hmm,” he hums but it’s more like a whine. “But you’re gonna be gone aaall daaay.”

“You big baby.”

“Kiss,” he demands as he pulls away slightly. You tiptoe and press a kiss onto his lips. He remembers to behave and keep his mouth closed; he knows how much you hate morning breath.

Just as the elevator is about to close, you hear a distinctly sleepy yell of, “And I don’t snore!”

By the time you get to the library, the good mood you’re in is largely unaffected, setting up your things in your usual spot. The hours pass in relative uneventfulness, and you’re glad about it as you return to your desk with a hole punched stack of papers. 

Sticking a hand into your bag you attempt to find the box of large binder clips you keep to tie together larger stacks of papers. Your fingers grapple onto everything but what you need, even when you quite literally empty your entire bag onto the table. 

Your seatmate, who seems to be in the deep trenches of something mathematical, is not amused. 

The tiny blue box is nowhere to be found. 

Exhaling heavily, you realise you have to deal with your predicament as it is. The idea of dealing with loose papers is not appealing, but you cannot physically staple the thick pile. 

You could’ve sworn you saw the string during your checks the night before, even this morning, right next to your pencil case on the right side of your bag. There’s no holes in your bag, nor have you left your seat to anywhere you couldn’t see it on the desk. 

But even as you deal with the loose stack of papers on the desk, attempting to refocus, there’s only one logical explanation left. It’s hard not to scoff. 

It’s been a week since you’ve been to the library, the holiday season now in full swing as you retire for the semester. 

Christmas mornings with Jeonghan usually turn into Christmas afternoons, taking full advantage of the errand-less day. By the time you do emerge from the den that is your bedroom, the sun is high in the sky, and Jeonghan is in the process of ordering takeout. 

There’re boxes under the tree, beside which the both of you seat yourselves as you wait for your food. 

You hand him his present, which is flat for the most part. He unwraps the paper and opens the box, only to find a large envelope inside. 

Jeonghan laughs, “Does handing me an envelope need to be this elaborate?”

“I can’t wrap an envelope,” you pout. 

“Right. Because it’s already wrapped,” he chortles. He rips it open to find yet another piece of paper. 

“Medieval dining experience?” Jeonghan reads off the reservation. 

“Brick walls, candle lights and everything. Knights with swords too.” His eyes light up as he registers the swords. 

When he hands you your present, you note that he has three separate packages next to him. 

It’s a polaroid camera, one that you’ve been wanting for a while. However, it looks like it’s already been opened as you take out the camera. He hardly lets you look at it and thank him properly before he’s shoving another box in your direction.

Unwrapping it reveals a scrapbook. Of polaroids. Of Jeonghan’s face. Full of Jeonghan’s face. It’s almost like he ran an entire reel of film dry with the amount of photos in the book. 

“Gently used,” Jeonghan provides. “By me.”

It earns him a big fat kiss, so you suppose he succeeded. 

But there’s one package left, a slightly bigger box that notably rattles as Jeonghan slides it over to you. “Unofficial present.”

You look justifiably confused. Undoing the wrapping paper, all you hear is things rattling around in the box, and you wonder what it could possibly be. 

The box is…a shoebox? The Nike logo glares back at you as you stare. But you don’t recall a pair of shoes ever being this noisy. 

Opening it reveals everything. Quite literally, everything. 

There’s a white stapler with purple flowers on it, a number of white, hardly used erasers, the distinct coil of a charging cable, and…a tiny blue box. Amongst other things. 

Everything that’s mysteriously disappeared from your bag these past months, lies in the shoebox. 

“Sorry,” Jeonghan says, but the smile on his face proposes that he’s far from it. 

You look at the contents of the box, and then back up at him. This repeats for a few minutes as you gape at the situation. 

“W–Why?” You can’t help but release a laugh at the ridiculousness of the ordeal. 

Jeonghan shrugs. “I hoped you’d miss your stuff enough to come back home. Or just start studying at home entirely.”

You stare at him as he picks at the tufts of rug beneath him. “You were gone all day. I just missed you.”

He looks up at you, hint of a smile on his face. “I know I said I was sorry, but I’m not really.”

Surging forward, your arms find his neck as you push yourself onto his lap, holding him tight. “Kinda figured you weren’t. It’s okay.”

Letting go, you bring your lips up to his to kiss him, properly. He pulls you closer, his hands firm on your hip and back. His mouth moves against your own, engulfing you in ways beyond just physical touch. 

Pulling away for a moment, you mumble against his lips, “Just say you miss me next time.”

Jeonghan smiles against your mouth, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

It was a strange way to communicate, to let you know to take it easy, to spend more time within his vicinity, because he considered your mere presence near him as spending time with you. Jeonghan didn’t ask for much, as opposed to his nature as it sounded. He was a simple man, who simply wanted time with you. 

However, even after the semester resumes, and you leave the house for significantly less stretches of time than before, there are times where your bag suddenly ceases to carry things you’re positive you packed. 

But this time, all it evokes is a smile, and a mellow reminder that there’s a warmth of someone’s arms waiting for you. 

But never once did his love, loyalty, or respect for you falter. He watched quietly from the sidelines, silently supportive of all your endeavors. He'd grimace inwardly a bit if your lipstick stained anyone else's lips on the big screen, he'd clear his throat one too many times if you shed any tears during a scene. He held your waist at events, a silent reminder that your ascend up the stairway to the stars was in good company.

When you finally got a bit of time for yourself, he made it his priority to become someone more permanent in your life. With eyes that never strayed and a heart that only beat for you, he proposed softly as the two of you took a midnight stroll for the first time in a long time. He apologized for not making it something grand, promising your wedding would be to die for and he'd pull every string possible to give you the honeymoon of your dreams – only for you to stop his rambling with a teary kiss to his lips. Telling your friends the news of the proposal was an exciting feat, until it fell on the ears of multiple of your co-stars. You hadn't ever even spoken of a boyfriend (you had, they just didn't remember), and a few of the men you'd worked with questioned the validity of your engagement, of your relationship – and it eventually got back to Jihoon. Whispers of the startup CEO dating an actress filled his office, side-eyed glances made him uneasy in his own skin and he hated it – he hated that people wouldn't mind their own business.

Needless to say, it pissed him off. He'd never been openly possessive, but a part of him knew that neither of you had an issue understanding where you stood in each other's lives. From dating, to girlfriend, to wife – you'd always been open about who Jihoon was to you and what his presence meant. You never shied away from answering his questions if any, and you proudly presented him as your significant other if he managed to attend any of your events. This alone was enough for the two of you to realize that people in your industry didn't take relationships too seriously, and enough for you to hard-launch your relationship by posting your wedding photos on social media.

The industry did not like that, but you didn't care. You and your agent continued to book role after role, your husband continuing to grow his business and make a name for himself in the world of music production…a stepping stone for him, and the first moment of blood-boiling jealousy you'd ever experienced at the side of Lee Jihoon.

Her hand was on his shoulder as they spoke music, and he swiftly moved out of her grasp, sure. The dance floor was full of couples, a dance floor you'd intended to whisk him onto after reapplying your lipstick in the washroom. Someone Like You by Van Morrison played as you stood a few feet away, your face contorted in a fit of envy as you saw your husband push her hand away, the words I'm married, please don't touch me falling from his lips. The woman grimaced – the same woman you'd starred alongside for three seasons of the very same show you were all celebrating a renewal for tonight – and she shrugged her shoulders, before the dreaded words fell from her own red lips.

"So? She doesn't have to know."

Jihoon looked taken aback, and it was almost like he was a moth drawn to a flame – his eyes landed on you, and the way your jaw was tight with anger as you made your way over.

"Soyoung, nice to see you. Did you lose something here, dearest?" You speak softly, staring at your co-star with eyes of fire. She gave you a sleazy smirk, shaking her head. "Not at all, Y/N. Enjoying the party?" "It's lovely, isn't it? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm feeling a bit under the weather." You gave her a tight smile, your hand wrapping around Jihoon's wrist watch as you pulled him away. He'd never seen you in such a state, eager to get him out of the venue and into the backseat of the black car waiting for you. Your arms were crossed as you sat facing away from him, before he made eye contact with the driver. He raised his brow, and the driver nodded, swiftly raising the partition as Jihoon turned to face you.

"Something bothering you, sweetheart?" He saw the way your shoulders tensed under the wine red straps of your dress, your legs crossed at the knee baring the skin of your thigh under the slit of the skirt. You gave him a glance through the corner of your eye, your lip jutted out in a pout as he cooed at you, making you huff in embarrassment.

"I don't like her." You mutter, "I don't like what she said and I don't like how she was all over you. She's literally my co-star. She knows we're married." "As much as I like your little pout and think you're adorable, I don't like that you're upset. You know I'd never wrong you, especially not like that." He tilts his head at you, making you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I know, Ji. I know." He's not satisfied with your answer, his hand reaching over to graze your knee, biting back his smile at the way your shoulders lose their tension at his touch. Your jaw remains tight, shaking your head in disbelief. "We've been co-stars for three years. You'd think she'd have some fucking respect for me." You were always so calm and collected, never too outwardly expressive of your disdain for people or their actions. He feels almost guilty for the growing tightness in his pants as you click your tongue, facing him as his fingers trace circles into your skin. "You're literally my husband. That's how I introduced you. My husband, Jihoon. Not Lee Jihoon, not the CEO of Ruby Productions, my husband. She's so shameless, I almost pity her." You tongue your cheek with a humorless laugh, and he can't help but feel his cheeks heat at the visual. He's silent as you run a hand through your hair, your earrings swinging as you shake your head again, giving him a pitiful smile.

"I'm sorry, I know this is out of character." You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. He nods, shifting slightly as your hand splays across his thigh. You press a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his pale skin when you notice the flush on his cheeks. He clears his throat as you stare at him, a look of disbelief glossing over your eyes as you gape at him.

"You liked it?" "In my defense, you're hot when you're mad." He scoffs embarrassedly, making you huff out a laugh. "Jihoon." "I'm sorry." He presses a kiss to your temple as you roll your eyes. "Are you?" "No." He smiles against your skin, and you feel your cheeks heat as he trails his lips down your neck. "I love you, sweetheart. Just you." "I know, Ji." You sigh, feeling a bit of heat pool in your lower belly as he nips at your shoulder with a hum. "I don't think you do. Maybe I should remind you." Your cheeks grow hot as he gently pulls your thigh over his, his teeth nipping at the shell of your ear as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Now you know how I feel. Everyone always has their hands all over you, like you're not spoken for." You shudder as he slips his fingers under the cotton fabric, smirking against your skin as your hand wraps around his watch. You bite down on your lip as his finger traces your clit, your nails barely digging into his wrist. "Ji, not here." Your body betrays your words, your grip on his wrist loosening as he pulls your thigh higher on his lap. "Why? Aren't you mine?" His voice is sultry as you shiver against him, slim fingers collecting your arousal while he nips at your ear.

"Yes, but-" "Oh, there's a but?" He slides a finger inside you easily, your words getting caught in your throat as you whimper. "Hoonie…" "Tell you what, pretty." He slips his hand out as the car slows to stop, the front of the hotel you're staying at coming into view. "We're going to go upstairs and you're gonna take this dress off for me, and I'll show you who the brightest star in my sky is. Go."

You nearly stumble as your husband walks out behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he bids the driver goodbye. You feel his teeth on your shoulder, his voice low as he speaks into your ear.

“And keep those heels on for me."

Eventually, he can't wait any longer. He presses his plump red lips against your clit, kissing it delicately, making you sigh from the relief of his touch. He flattens his tongue against your cunt, giving you a slow lick; he repeats it again, and again - by the fourth time, you're squirming against the sheets. He wraps his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he swirls the tip of his tongue around your clit, eliciting a moan from deep within. 

“Oh god…”

He drags his tongue back down, pressing it into your hole, again and again until he’s fully tongue-fucking you. His nose grazes your swollen clit, sending an electric shock through you each time. You feel like you're going to cum already - it feels too fast, he just started properly going down on you. But, you can't help it - Minghao is simply too skilled in bringing you pleasure. 

He pauses, raising his head and making eye contact with you. His face is glistening, covered in your juices. Eyes filled with hunger, he grins at you lazily before suddenly hoisting your thighs upwards. You yelp as he shifts your hips, practically folding you in half so he can have full, uninhibited access to your pussy. He takes your clit gently between his lips, suckling on it lightly; with a low groan your head falls back onto the pillow. He unwraps his arm from one of your thighs, bringing his fingertips to your cunt, brushing up and down your soaked slit a few times before pushing his first two fingers inside you. You cry out as he curls his fingers, stroking your g-spot as he suctions back onto your clit. He fucks you with his fingers - slowly at first, but the more you wriggle beneath him the faster he goes, pumping his fingers at the perfect rhythm. 

“Oh my god, Minghao…”

He's never told you outright that you moaning his name is the hottest sound he could ever hear, but he doesn't have to. He buries his face in your pussy, sucking on your clit while his fingers work their magic. You grasp onto the bedsheets, your back arching as your climax nears, closer and closer, until-

“Oh god, I’m cumming…”

You release hits like a bolt of lightning, sending shockwaves of pleasure rolling through your body as your orgasm takes control. Minghao sucks on your clit ceaselessly as you cum on his fingers, making you see stars as your body trembles, riding out your high. Your chest rises with heavy breaths as you start to come down, your body relaxing into the bed - but neither of you are anywhere near done. 

Minghao gives you one last kiss on your pulsating bud before lifting himself up to kiss you on the lips, his hand caressing the back of your neck as he makes out with you lovingly. The head of his cock bumps against your pussy; you lower yourself onto him, your overwhelming wetness taking in his tip with ease. You groan as he slowly pushes the rest of his length into you, his thickness stretching your walls deliciously. He gives you a moment to get used to his size, but you're impatient. 

“Please fuck me,” you whimper, looking up at him with utter desperation. He too can't wait a moment longer - he begins to thrust into you, long and slow strokes, letting his cock feel every inch of your pussy. You reach for his arm, tugging at his wrist - and he knows exactly what you want. He drags his hand up your torso, stopping for a moment to squeeze your breasts, before wrapping his hand around your throat. His fingers squeeze into your neck, choking you as he thrusts deep into your pussy. Your eyes beg and plead him to fuck you harder as gagging noises fill the air - a fire builds in his gut, pounding into you harder and harder, until he can't resist any longer. With a string of deep moans he releases, his cum spilling into your pussy, painting your insides with his hot ropes. His cock throbs against your walls as the last few spurts fill you to the brim. After a few moments, he slowly pulls his cock out. His cum dribbles out of your hole, but he quickly catches it, stuffing it back into your cunt. 

“That’s my good girl,” he coos. “Taking all my cum in your pretty pussy.” 

You whine as he slowly pulls his fingers out; you grab his forearm, drawing his milky-white coated hand up to your face. You wrap your mouth around his fingers, sucking slowly, swallowing all of the excess cum. 

“Oh, wow,” he mutters softly. “My baby is so perfect.”

He wraps his arm around your torso, rolling over onto his side and taking you in his embrace. His skin is hot against yours, dewey with sweat, holding you tight as he presses a deep kiss onto your cheek. You breathe in tandem, warm and safe in each other’s arms, lulling you both into a blissful trance. 

❄️ stairway to the stars

🎅🏻 From: @haologram 🎄lee jihoon x reader 🎁 To: @monamipencil 🌟Unwrap now!

❄️ with great certainty

🎅🏻 From: @bitchlessdino 🎄kwon soonyoung x reader 🎁 To: @etherealyoungk 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ where you belong

🎅🏻 From: @starlightkyeom 🎄kim mingyu x reader 🎁 To: @gyuswhore 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ A Perfect Christmas

🎅🏻 From: @lovetaroandtaemin 🎄lee chan x reader 🎁 To: @chanranghaeys 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ by his side

🎅🏻 From: @monamipencil 🎄yoon jeonghan x reader 🎁 To: @diamonddaze01 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ clockwork

🎅🏻 From: @gyuswhore 🎄yoon jeonghan x reader 🎁 To: @shuaflix 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ all seok wants for christmas

🎅🏻 From: @studioeisa 🎄lee seokmin x reader 🎁 To: @tusswrites 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ wrapped in you

🎅🏻 From: @etherealyoungk 🎄jeon wonwoo x reader 🎁 To: @wqnwoos 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ touch me, tease me, feel me up

🎅🏻 From: @seungkw1 🎄xu minghao x reader 🎁 To: @haologram 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ all tie-d up

🎅🏻 From: @diamonddaze01 🎄boo seungkwan x reader 🎁 To: @seungkw1 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ it started with a dare

🎅🏻 From: @wheeboo 🎄yoon jeonghan x reader 🎁 To: @soo0hee 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ elf in crime

🎅🏻 From: @shuaflix 🎄lee chan x reader 🎁 To: @starlightkyeom 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ a tale of two lonely souls

🎅🏻 From: @chanranghaeys 🎄xu minghao x reader 🎁 To: @studioeisa 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ A Bootiful, Bountiful Christmas

🎅🏻 From: @tusswrites 🎄boo seungkwan x reader 🎁 To: @wheeboo 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ Fallen for you

🎅🏻 From: @soo0hee 🎄lee seokmin x reader 🎁 To: @lovetaroandtaemin 🌟 Unwrap now!

❄️ mistletoe

One could describe your dynamic as destructive, perhaps even catastrophic. It was the reason why Choi Seungcheol, your department head, moved Chan to a different team about four times in the past two years. Miraculously, you ended up being paired with him tonight despite all odds. Lee Seokmin, who was really a Toy Maker but ended up volunteering to keep track of all elves out on deliveries, choked up immediately once he saw you and Chan heading out, but unfortunately the poor guy couldn’t get many words out before Boo Seungkwan started hounding him over not following professional workplace attire (the pointy hat). 

For the most part, the night had gone surprisingly smooth until you got to your very last house. In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up for everything to go well without a hitch. Your partner was Chan, after all. 

The issue at hand was that you were currently on the roof, standing right next to the chimney, and Lee Chan was grumbling as he crawled out from the opening. Apparently, the fireplace was blocked off, so there was no way in through the chimney. Tradition was dead.

With a scowl and a face covered in decade-old soot, Chan complained, “Why have a chimney—why have a fireplace—if you’re not gonna let it serve its intended purpose?” 

You knew that Chan deeply believed the intended purpose of a fireplace was to roast marshmallows, not a source of heat, so you changed the subject. 

“We’ll have to find another way in.” You peered over the edge of the roof. “Window?”

“Breaking and entering is a serious offense, Y/N.”

“We’re elves. You think going through the chimney isn’t a felony?”

Being an elf, you possessed a special magic that allowed you to unlock any door or window (although this was only permitted on Christmas Eve). Doors were tricky, though; the creaking from the worn out hinges was always a risk and most people had cameras or alarms on their front doors. Windows were the safer option if there was no chimney, but you still felt uneasy about that. 

The human house was a battlefield. 

“Article 3, Section 34, Clause 84 of the Christmas Elf Guidebook,” Chan started in a whisper as the two of you crouched beside one of the windows along the side of the house. “In the case of an inaccessible chimney, Delivery Elves are to use Elfpedia on their smart devices to look up the floor plans—”

“Okay, we don’t have time for all that,” you interjected, waving him off with a single hand motion. To be frank, it had been a long night and you were itching to get home and watch a cheesy Hallmark Christmas romcom. After a glimpse through the blinds of the window closest to you, Dumb (you) suggested, “Let’s just go through this one,” and Dumber (Chan) conceded. 

Getting the window open wasn’t difficult aside from the several moments where you two froze after it creaked a little too loudly. Chan gripped your arm, preparing to bolt if someone started coming downstairs, but to your relief, the house stayed quiet. 

“Nice,” you started in a low voice, “now help me get in.”

Chan bent down and cupped his hands to help hoist your foot up. You hauled yourself inside and waited for your partner-in-crime to follow suit. He, on the other hand, struggled to climb through the window as gracefully as you did, which resulted in him losing his balance and falling to the wooden floor. 

You winced as the crash resounded throughout the house. Again, the two of you froze for several long minutes before it felt safe to become animate again.

Although your voice was hardly audible, the way you grabbed Chan’s arm was enough to show that you were pissed. “You almost blew it!” 

But he wasn’t looking at you.

He was looking up at the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the top of the window frame, right where you two entered from. 

“You know,” he mumbled, and your heart felt like it was beating a hundred times faster when you saw the faint blush dust his cheeks. “Article 5, Section 2, Clause 27 of the Christmas Elf Guidebook states that elves must kiss underneath the mistletoe.” 

Your pulse raced. Kiss Chan? Kiss Lee Chan? How could you possibly kiss your close friend slash coworker? (Even though you often fantasized about it whenever you felt a touch too vulnerable around him, but that was beside the point.) You were here to deliver presents, that was all. In and out. None of this nonsense. 

But something warm stirred in your heart, and you couldn’t help but think that it would be pretty nice kissing Chan. 

The elf even failed to mention the several exceptions to that clause, which included both parties consenting to the kiss and that the rule didn’t apply in human homes. And Chan, who had the guidebook memorized at this point (for God knows what reason), surely wouldn’t have brought up the clause if he knew it didn’t apply to this situation. Did that mean he truly wanted to kiss you? 

“Why do you even have that memorized?” Your laugh came out more like a nervous breath. “You know that clause doesn’t apply here, right?” 

He shrugged, grinning. “Mistletoe is mistletoe—clause or not.”

Mustering up the minimal courage you had, you rose up on your toes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. It was awkward at first, a little shy, but then you were consumed with the need to give into the longing that had been festering inside you for a while now. Chan’s eyes dropped to your lips once you pulled away, but then he cupped your cheek and brought you back for a longer, sweeter kiss that made you feel like putty in his hold. 

The moment was cut short by the sound of an impatient reindeer’s hoof slamming against the rooftop. It was loud enough for you to hear but thankfully not loud enough to wake up the residents. The reindeer must have been getting hungry after you two left the sleigh unattended for far too long. You and Chan pulled away from each other with wide eyes, the tender moment melting into a state of anxiety when you realized you needed to get going already. 

He ran a hand through his hair, flustered. “Continue this later?”

“Yes, please,” you admitted with sudden shyness growing in your chest. “Alright, give me the presents so we can leave.”

“Y/N.”

“Oh, we can watch a movie together when we get back, or—”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

Caught, you rise and turn your back to him. His hands find the open back of your dress, warm and steady. “You could’ve asked for help,” he murmurs, the zipper gliding up slowly. Each brush of his fingers against your spine sends a shiver through you.

When he’s done, he smooths the fabric at your waist, his hands lingering longer than necessary before retreating. “Wait,” he says, retrieving your necklace from the dresser. The faint clink of metal is followed by his touch at your neck, cool against your skin as he fastens it with precision.

“You’re fidgeting,” he murmurs by your ear, his breath warm.

“Sorry,” you manage, though you’re anything but. How are you supposed to stay still when he’s this close?

He steps around to face you, one hand tilting your chin up as his thumb brushes over your lip. “You smudged your lipstick,” he says, his voice low. He swipes again, firmer this time, before his gaze dips to your mouth.

“There,” he says softly, but his hand doesn’t leave your jaw, his fingers curling around it gently. The air thickens, and when his other hand finds your waist, your breath hitches.

“You’re staring again,” he teases, his voice a whisper.

“Your hands,” you admit, heat rushing to your cheeks. “They’re... distracting.”

That earns you a laugh, soft and warm, though there’s a flicker of something darker in his eyes now. “Distracting?” he repeats, his tone playful but edged with curiosity. His thumb moves again, brushing over your cheek in a way that feels almost indulgent. “I didn’t realize my hands had that kind of effect on you.”

You want to roll your eyes, to say something sharp and dismissive, but you can’t. Not when his hands are still on you, his thumb trailing down to your jaw before finally, mercifully, pulling away.

He steps back then, the smirk on his face unmistakable as he adjusts his cufflinks. “We’re going to be late,” he says casually, as though the air between you hasn’t shifted entirely.

But as he walks to the door, his fingers brushing his hair into place, you know he’s entirely aware of what he’s done. And when he glances back at you, his smirk widening into a grin, you know he’s going to keep doing it—keep teasing, keep lingering, keep making you feel like his hands were made for you, and you alone.

Seungkwan pauses at the door, one hand on the frame, and turns back to you with that same maddening smirk tugging at his lips. His gaze is measured, deliberate, as it trails over you one last time. “You didn’t even notice my tie,” he says, his tone mock-injured but dripping with amusement. “After all that effort? I’m offended.”

You blink, still reeling from the intimacy of his hands on your skin just moments ago. “I noticed,” you manage, smoothing the skirt of your dress, feigning indifference. “It looks good. I like it.”

He tilts his head, letting the compliment settle before his smirk deepens. He steps closer again, just a fraction—close enough that his voice drops low, intimate, almost conspiratorial. “Good,” he breathes, the word deliberate as his eyes lock onto yours, leaving no room for misinterpretation. His hand rises to straighten the tie at his throat, a slow, practiced motion. “We’ll make good use of it later tonight.”

The air between you crackles, your mouth parting slightly as the weight of his words sinks in. His eyes gleam with mischief, but there’s a darker edge to his voice now, softer and almost reverent as he adds, “You’d look so pretty with it around your wrists.”

You’re not sure if it’s the way he says it, low and unhurried, or the promise in his gaze that makes your pulse race. Your breath catches, but before you can reply—if there’s even anything you can say—he steps back with a wink, resuming his casual ease like nothing happened.

“Come on,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads for the door, leaving you frozen in place, the imprint of his touch still lingering on your skin. “Wouldn’t want to keep everyone waiting.”

You don’t even make it 3 hours. 

Seungkwan treats it like a game, making direct eye contact with you across the ballroom as he quickly licks some frosting off his fingers. When he looks back at Mingyu with a quick laugh, it feels like your heart has dropped out of your ass. 

It takes only one more heated look, this time with his fingers curled around the neck of a champagne glass (it's the smallest flick of his tongue over his bottom lip that makes your legs press together, your resolve dissolving), and suddenly you’re faking sick and all but dragging Seungkwan home. 

The moment the door to your apartment clicks shut behind you, Seungkwan's demeanor shifts. Gone is the playful teasing, replaced by a hunger that makes your breath catch. He crowds you against the wall, one hand braced beside your head, the other already working at his tie.

"Couldn't even make it through dinner," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "What am I going to do with you?"

You reach for him, but he catches your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand. The silk of his tie slides cool against your skin as he winds it around your wrists, securing them with practiced ease.

"Remember what I said earlier?" he asks, his free hand trailing down your neck, over your collarbone. "About how pretty you'd look?"

You nod, unable to form words as his fingers trace the neckline of your dress.

"Look at you now," Seungkwan breathes, his eyes roaming over your bound wrists, the flush creeping up your neck. "Even prettier than I imagined."

His hand cups your face, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. You part your lips instinctively, and he smiles, a slow, dangerous thing that makes heat pool in your belly.

"Tell me what you want," he commands softly, his body pressed against yours, pinning you to the wall.

"You," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, Seungkwan."

He leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear. "Be specific," he murmurs, his hand trailing down your side, fingers splaying over your hip. "I want to hear you say it."

Your breath hitches as his hand slides lower, bunching up the fabric of your dress.

"I want your hands on me," you breathe, emboldened by the heat in his gaze. "Everywhere. I want you to touch me until I can't think straight."

Seungkwan's eyes darken at your words, a low groan escaping him. "Good girl," he praises, his hand sliding up your thigh, fingers teasing at the edge of your underwear. "Is this what you've been thinking about all night? My hands on you?"

You nod, unable to form words as his fingers trace delicate patterns on your inner thigh.

“Well,” he muses, breath hot on your neck. “Who am I to deny you?”

With that, Seungkwan's lips crash against yours, hungry and demanding. His hand slides higher, fingers dipping beneath the fabric of your underwear, and you gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss as his fingers explore, teasing and precise.

"Is this what you wanted?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire. "My hands on you, making you fall apart?"

You can only nod, a whimper escaping as his thumb finds your most sensitive spot. Your bound hands strain against the tie, desperate to touch him, to pull him closer.

Seungkwan chuckles softly, his free hand cupping your face. "Patience," he whispers, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "We have all night. And I plan to take my time with you."