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#lee seokmin fluff
waldau · 1 month
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hand in mine — lee seokmin | 1,550 words | fluff
slightly inspired by my friend and their partner, i didn't know it was possible for two people to be so in love :') here's just...dk being sappy. sappy dk.
gender neutral reader. warnings: bonus pov?
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dokyeom swears you're like a portable human charger.
when he's away, whether it's because he's still in practice or because he's on tour or even when he's at his parents' place, a single phone call from you is enough to lift his spirits to get him through the rest of the day. weekends spent at each other's places together are almost enough to convince him to just become an apartment hermit.
it's been true for ages — and it's true again, tonight.
or it will be, if you'll stop talking to one kim mingyu.
dokyeom's getting antsier the longer you stand there talking to mingyu, nodding along to something he's telling you. can't it wait till tomorrow? doesn't mingyu see he's in dire need of recharging?
now he knows mingyu's not telepathic, but somehow the younger man realizes dokyeom's staring at the two of you, so he finishes whatever he's saying with a nod towards where dokyeom's sitting. you follow his gaze and smile when you see dokyeom, who swears his heart melts a little, right there.
but then you stop to greet joshua, chatting with him for a minute (a whole minute, in this economy?) before you're standing right next to dokyeom.
he stretches his arms out to you. you bend down, letting him wrap himself around you the best he can. it's good, but it's not enough. he lets go only to tug at your hand. "sit down."
you look around. "there's no place, kyeomie. i don't mind standing."
he frowns at you. "i mind. you can sit in my lap."
you give him a look. "in front of your friends? i'd rather not."
dokyeom pouts. "they're your friends, too."
"of course i know that, baby. but they don't ever stop teasing us, do they?"
"ugh. they'll make fun of me, not you. please?"
you run a hand through his hair. "i don't want them to make fun of you, either."
he huffs. "fine. c'mere," he mumbles, scooting to give you some more space. you go willingly this time, settling yourself into the minimal space next to him. it's not easy when there's already thirteen of them in a room, but he manages to nudge chan away to give you some more space.
"hi," you whisper, letting him throw his hand around your shoulder to pull you closer. "missed you today."
dokyeom pulls back to look at you. he feels almost shy to have all your attention on him, silly as it sounds. "just today?" he asks, grinning when you roll your eyes. "you got here safely?"
you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his nose. "perfectly. there was way lesser traffic than i expected."
"good."
you snuggle into dokyeom's side, stretching your legs out next to his. this is always his favourite place to be — because he can have your words be all for his ears only.
but then he frowns when he sees your outfit — a shirt and a pair of shorts. he takes off his jacket and drapes it across your legs despite your protests.
"you should've worn something warmer," he frowns. you're never good with the cold, and you're not going to be comfortable with the way more than half the members need the air conditioning to be switched on at all times.
"i was almost ready to go to bed, kyeomie," you explain, adjusting the jacket on yourself nonetheless. "i wouldn't be here if shua didn't call me. thank you, though. how was your day?"
dokyeom sighs. he doesn't want to talk about his day when he's been living through it for the entirety of...well, the day, but he has to say something for you. "not...the best," he concedes, resting his head on your shoulder.
"do you want to go home soon?" you ask, your hand finding his, tracing random patterns on his skin. the tingles help ground him.
he shrugs. "i don't know."
it's true, as much as he hates it. he doesn't want to leave because it'll end up breaking up the party — it always so happens that the first person to leave is the catalyst for most others to start wrapping things up, unwittingly. he doesn't want to be a party pooper, but at the same time, he's had a long day. it's like he's been aware of every single second he's been awake, and it's exhausting.
"okay," you say simply. "let's stay for a while more. it's not like we're in a rush. and i know how hard you worked today."
dokyeom closes his eyes at that. he knows he's done well, today being one of those days where he's genuinely looking for the end, but hearing it from you makes it much better. "yeah?"
"yeah," you affirm, hand rising to comb gently through his hair again, left open now that he's discarded his beanie. "i love you, kyeom. so much. it's still hard to put it into words sometimes."
he snuggles a bit more into you at that, slightly satisfied when seungkwan chucks a piece of popcorn at him from the bed, telling you both to stop being so cheesy. he feels even better when you throw it back at seungkwan, letting out a triumphant ha! when it hits him on the knee.
he loves you.
there's no bottom to that endless truth. he's somewhat loved you ever since he first saw you, drawn to the way your sense of humour was so close to his, and the somewhat turned into a definitely the more he got to know you.
dokyeom isn't half of anything — he's all of himself, lee seokmin, content with the way he is except for a few gripes here and there, but you complete him in a way he didn't know any person could.
he's not worried about you leaving him — there's no way either of you are letting that happen. it's more about not knowing who he is without you, now that your lives are so intertwined.
"stop," you mumble, your grip on his hair tightening slightly.
"stop what?"
"thinking. about whatever you are. i told you i love you and i'm not going anywhere."
the haze he's in almost clears a bit at that. "how did you— i didn't—"
"you always get so pensive when you're tired, did you know? i should record you some time. it's like there's a philosopher hidden inside you."
pensive? when he's tired?
"i love you normally," he blurts out, scared at the insinuation that he thinks about how much you mean to him only when he's vulnerable like this.
you're not saying anything back, though. you're just smiling at him.
"what," he asks, breaths a bit shallow.
"i know," you press, hand lifting his to show the ring that sits on his fourth finger. "i love you normally, too."
dokyeom lets out a chuckle. he still can't believe it's possible to love someone this much.
"now let me get you home and help you get some sleep, okay?" you ask, punctuating your question with a tug to his chin. "the others will understand."
as if you have to ask him. he'll go wherever you take him, no questions asked.
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joshua can see the change in dokyeom's eyes the moment you walk into the room.
the conversation doesn't stop; mingyu and jun are still arguing about how mingyu should stop taking inspiration from jeonghan when it comes to board games and cheating. jeonghan has a proud smile on his face. wonwoo and minghao have zoned out entirely, too busy with their phones to acknowledge the little fight going on. the others are busy eating or ordering more food or arguing about which movie to watch next.
there's just one person missing from the chaos.
dokyeom's sitting on the floor under the window, entirely in his own world, constantly checking his phone and looking at the door, shutting his eyes for a minute before repeating his actions.
joshua would've poked fun at him if he didn't know how tired dokyeom already was today. a particularly tiring day, especially with a comeback practice they'd just gotten back from, and a going seventeen shoot in which dokyeom had been on the losing team. even though he doesn't like to show it, joshua knows dokyeom is somewhat upset over not winning.
but the moment you walk into the room, it's like a switch has been flipped. dokyeom sits up straighter, the neutral expression on his face morphing into a tired but real smile. he holds his hands out to you and pouts when you stop to greet all the other members first, shaking hands with them or giving them a quick side hug.
joshua pulls you close with ease. "thanks for making it here on such short notice."
"are you seriously thanking me for that?"
"i mean...he really needs to see you. today hasn't been his day."
you look over at your husband for a moment. "i could tell. his texts were pretty dry."
"right? now go get your lover boy. he's been moping all evening long."
you wrinkle your nose at the term, just like he expected you to, but you nod and make your way to dokyeom.
joshua turns away when dokyeom gives you a dopey, lovesick grin. he'll let the teasing go for tonight.
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taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae
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shuamorollss · 4 months
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Café Amnesia — l.sm x f!reader
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— When your insane crush on Lee Seokmin hits a curb when he yells out the wrong name for your order whilst having your name written perfectly fine on your cup.
How the hell was he able to fuck your name up so badly?
On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.
romcom, mutual pining, cafe au with a pinch of univ, strangers2friends2lovers warnings/notes— They're both whipped for each other(Seokmin mostly), there's a whole segment of reader suffering from period cramps, uhmm I'll add more :> 1.7k wc TEASER . Estimated full wc: 10k-12k + reblogs are greatly appreciated!
tags— @jangwonie @jungwonize @luhvlyuna @w3bqrl @ineedaherosavemeenow @leaderwon @writingmeraki
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"Girl, take your chance. He's right there taking orders!" Im Nayeon encouraged as the both of you took a step inside the bittersweet aromatic premises.
Oh yes, this very Café, not only were you a regular customer here, you were also known by your friends to be limping hearts for someone around these ambient walls.
Strangers might say, Oh, this person must really love the coffee here.
Although your friends would definitely say, Oh, he just loves the coffee made by brew. A code name your friends have made to pertain to him.
The very ‘brew’ on the counter, taking orders with his usual sweet smile.
Lee Seokmin.
Oh that man, how could you ever describe him?
Seokmin’s a family friend, you usually see him outside Café territory. Even visiting your home multiple times just to have a chat with your family. Crazy how a guy so cute and so close to your age is more talkative with the likes of your aunts and uncles.
You have always noticed his presence even before he started working in your favorite Café, though you only developed ominous worries by the time he started working there.
There was something about his mere presence that irks you a certain way, never in a bad way, quite unsure in a good way.
How would he have this effect on you so suddenly?
It doesn't make sense.
You only view him discerningly from your balcony as he laughs with your mom at the gate. He’s a peculiar guy, who only visits your home to greet anyone but the people his age.
You didn't care about it, you didn't even ponder any further with his visits, you weren't as much bothered with his bond with your relatives… So why do you feel the opposite of the things just mentioned now?
"Uhm, Y/N?" a voice echoed, shaking you through your thoughts.
"Huh? "
You blinked out of your rainbow towered thoughts, checking the very man standing in front of you with an intense gaze.
Everything felt sudden, you were just giggling with Nayeon earlier at the back of the line and now you're… here.
"Your order please?" He repeats, raising his brow as his eyes fixed on you, patiently waiting for your response.
As much as you wanted to, you couldn't take a look at his face for longer than 2 seconds. You didn't want to become a blushing, stuttering mess in front of him, you had to erase such humiliation as this has probably happened to many times within his view.
You take a good look at the menu for a short while, subtly attempting to compose yourself. Then back to looking into his eyes with a determined smile.
"Ah— Uhm… Two iced caffe latte please." you spoke out, you eyes averting away after you realized you might be looking at him for a bit too long.
"Size?" He questioned.
"Both grande."
“Alright, name?” He asks, leaving you slightly dumber and might be dumbest since you were so so sure he had mentioned your name before, the name you own, the name he lets out to escape you from the unrealistic wonders of your mind.
Well, you guess he had to do it for the professional setting.
“Y/N.” You answered with a warm smile.
He nodded, starting to scribble your name on both cups.
You stared at him for a brief second before darting your eyes out of his figure again. It was an awkward, unnecessary feat you have, however you feel a pinch of guilt for staring at him for too long… You didn't think you would have a chance anyway, or would even notice your gaze fixated on him for an uncomfortable amount of time.
You were great with eye contact, you swore that to life.
Now it’s just different in front of him.
The transaction ended smoothly, thankfully, he gave out your remaining change and you turned around leaving with a wide grin that seemed stuck on your face for the next few minutes.
Nayeon notices your change of demeanor, mirroring your subtle excitement as your footsteps approach her figure.
“So, how did it go?!” She slowly squealed, her bunny teeth entirely evident as her emotions seemed to be ecstatic at yours.
“It went good,” You answer with the same wide grin. “It went with the usual order but this time, he asked for my name.”
Nayeon’s smile immediately falters at your answer, her reaction unsatisfied.
“Y/N, that's… he does that to everyone, it’s his job.” She deadpans.
“No no no, I mean. I was like— thinking about something you know?— I was in deep thought, and then Seok— I mean him, Brew, called me by my name and that took me out of my trance,” You paused, earning back your composure. “Then all of a sudden, he just asks me for my name when he was about to write it on the cup? Like, isn't that weird?! He called me before, with the perfect pronunciation of my name, and then asks about it afterwards?”
Nayeon’s reaction did make any sort of change, yet here you are, at the verge of squealing at the half-assed interaction she had ever heard.
Though, to be fair, she had heard more shit stains than this.
“Darling, Y/N, I'm sorry, but, you just have to get better than that..?” Her tone rose unsurely, you could tell she wasn't atoned with the happening, well, it wasn't supposed to be squealed about. You couldn't admit it to her but, it was indeed a boring interaction.
As much as you were extremely down bad for the man, you couldn't act upon it. Why would you? He’s so out of your reach. He wouldn't even look at you in the eyes, never even greeted you when you were at home, and not even bothered to have your parents introduce him to you.
So why would you try and befriend him if the hints are obviously at plain sight that your parents don't want him for you.
Gahh?! What is wrong with me?! you argue along with your conscience. This case seriously needs to be studied for the reason that this regression did not go unnoticed by you. You had a chance to talk to him before but now it just seems too far of a run to be able to reach.
As you and Nayeon remain seated, patiently waiting for your order while she voices out her stress about the upcoming midterm exams, a certain voice echoes throughout the area.
A name kept being called.
Twice, thrice, you don't even know how to word it out the fourth time and so on.
It was embarrassing how this man, Seokmin, was honking a name no one responds to in such a quiet auranescent place. Almost everyone in the Café gave their shares of baffled looks at Seokmin’s way, you gave your shares of it also, until Seokmin’s gaze points at you.
The drink on his hands reached out to your direction, mouthing the words to what seems to be “you.”
Nayeon catches onto this quickly and nudges you out of your seat, so you could reach the drinks on what you assumed to be yours and Nayeon’s, which in fact right now, you were still unsure of.
You make your way awkwardly towards the man, your eyes circling around the Café, releasing a breath of relief at the realization that the customers had gone back to their personal businesses, although the embarrassing flush still creeps into you as you step closer and closer to the counter.
“You, yes you.” Seokmin lets out with a sigh of relief you swore you just did a few seconds back.
“Here's your order, I’ve been calling out for you for 4 years.” He jokes, a bit weak but it was tolerable. He’s handing the two lattes you ordered, still dumbfounded at the fact this was your order.
But he said your name wrong
extremely wrong. unpleasantly wrong. absolutely wrong.
It wasn't even close to your name at all— it's just wrong.
You never felt so embarrassingly offended in your life.
The way he says that too casually, audaciously loud, couldn't even set you off to the right track. You still think he's getting the wrong person to give this order to.
But it was the correct order, the one you recited to him.
He knew you, that's for sure, but how— wha?—
“Oh, thanks.” You say dryly, grabbing your order and walking away with a forced smile. Not even bothering to correct him, just because.
You examine the drink, still unsure if this was actually what you ordered (Which it really is), then turning it to the other side of the cup to read your name,
perfectly spelled.
Which bombards your thoughts with even more questions.
How was he able to fuck your name up so badly?
On purpose? Obviously. Why? You simply don't know.
You went back to the gracious face from Nayeon holding her laugh.
“Well, that's what I call an interaction.” She welled, leaning back onto her seat with a squeaky laugh.
You were quite embarrassed by the whole situation, yet a gush of butterflies lingered in your stomach shooting to the realization that Seokmin had joked with you.
It was unusual, but you’d be content with it at best.
Nayeon repeats the name Seokmin kept calling out a few minutes back, which somehow became unbearable coming from her.
You slide her drink with a clear frown, aggressively sitting on your seat without laying a single look at your friend.
“Oh come on, Y/N, you know I'm just kidding..— woah.” Her eyes widened as her eyes lays at the name spelt on her drink. You could tell the element of surprise creeping up into her whole being as she tries to piece things together.
“Y/N, your name is spelled correctly here?”
You roll your eyes, “Wow, I didn't even notice.” You reply with evidently toned grouchiness.
She gives you the same wide eyes yet the edges of her lips begin to perk up.
You know where she's getting at.
“Y/N! Do you know what this means?!”
You lock your gaze at her, waiting to continue her words.
“He yelled and butchered your name on purpose!” She says ecstatically.
Yeah, you have already established that.
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© shuamorollss. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
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gyu-effect · 4 months
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could i request a dk fic where the reader is a lresenter at an awards show and has to read out the winner for one of the daesangs ( like mama album of the year award where they won!) and how all of it goes down and stuff ( like the reader and dks relationships public knowledge so it makes jt even more fluffier!!)
PAIRING || Seokmin x Female Reader
GENRES || Fluff, Idol!Seokmin, Idol!Reader
WARNINGS || none
WORD COUNT || 0.6k
A/N || i'm so so sorry this took me so much time. but i really loved this idea tbh it was just so cute! i hope you like this fic. requests are open !!!
TAGLIST || ​@romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @mnstxmnbb [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]
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[00:08]
“wait, what? don’t tell me-” seokmin gasped, staring at the stage with eyes wide open as you walked in with a bright smile, bowing and greeting the audience seated.
“didn’t you know?” seungkwan asked, to which seokmin shook his head in negative, mouth still hanging open in surprise. how come you had never told him this before? even yesterday when the two of you had talked before going to bed, you had not even mentioned it in passing when he had said that he hoped that they would win a daesang this time.
but now that seokmin thought more about yesterday’s conversation, he realised that you had said that you had a surprise for him. was this what you had meant?
“i didn’t. i didn’t know at all. ” he replied. “but y/n did say she had a surprise for me.” 
you smiled at the crowd once more before greeting into the mic. “good evening, everyone. a beautiful night, isn’t it?”
seokmin smiled involuntarily, feeling his heart melt at the sweet way you were talking. then the he heard the scream, causing him to finally tear his eyes away from you and look at the screen. to his surprise, the camera had panned to him to capture his expression, and he felt his cheeks heat up.
“don’t make it so obvious.” minghao snickered beside him, causing him to elbow him lightly. but some of his members like soonyoung had begun pointing at him and then at you, before making hearts, causing the crowd to go more wild.
seokmin felt his heart burst out of embarrassment even more as he watched you too faltered at your speech a little, biting your lips so as to not smile too much. 
“hey.” chan said, his eyes lighting up. “maybe the surprise was that the winners of album of the year-”
“and the award goes to…” you said, carefully opening the envelope. then your eyes crinkled as you smiled even more brightly, before leaning into the mic once again. “seventeen!”
the roar around him was almost deafening. he felt someone yank him up by an arm and pull him into a hug, as he tried processing what was happening around him.
they had won? they had won? but wasn’t he just staring at your face a few seconds ago-
the next thing he knew he was being pushed on to the stage with the entire group. he could feel people still applauding them and congratulating them from behind and he felt his heart swell with happiness. 
they had won. after all these years of hard work, they had finally won a daesang. 
as he approached you, he could feel himself getting giddier and giddier. you were beaming at him with such a proud smile, that seokmin felt like he was in heaven. he could not have been happier than ever. he had the best members, the best fans, he was doing what he loved and finally being rewarded for his hard work. and he had you.
you, who had tears in your eyes right now as you carefully handed the prize to jeonghan, before he indicated you to give it to seokmin instead. you, who loved him and cherished him so much.
and right now, the entire screaming of the crowd died down to nothing as all the lights dimmed around you, causing you to practically glow as you silently whispered a congratulations. seokmin felt his own eyes prick with tears a bit, being brought to reality only when his own members ‘ooh’-ed with the crowd when the two of your hands met. 
as you bowed to the members one last time and made your way out, seokmin saw you secretly wave him a tiny goodbye. 
turning back to the crowd, he let out a happy sigh. he had to thank you for your surprise later on.
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© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
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cheollipop · 5 months
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☂˚.⋆。 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙥𝙞𝙚𝙨
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navi | taglist | part of svthub's fall-ing collab
pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader
w.c.: 5.0k
genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, apple picking and pie baking and some sweet lovemaking <3
a lovers’ retreat—golden rays cast shadows over high, blushing cheekbones, flour-kissed noses and eye smiles as warm as the oven’s embrace, secrets and tender kisses shared with the starry night, and in a wooden cabin fragrant with the aroma of cinnamon and caramel, the love shared was sweeter than the finest apple pie.
☂ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, praise, edging, some begging, some cockwarming, overstimulation (m), multiple orgasms (f), nicknames (min; baby, babe, love), some aftercare, seokmin is so fucking whipped (so is reader), there's so much love talk in this, I hate myself.
☂ A/N: nobody come for my inconsistent pie recipe, I didn't use one (also idc if you don't knead the dough, i needed it to describe seokmin's bulging muscles tyvm). other than that, this fic means a lot to me and despite struggling for the most part, I really enjoyed writing it. happy reading! :]
nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞
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Slender fingers rounded the hanging fruit, examining for imperfections with eager eyes and the tip of a tongue held between pearly whites. The crisp air contrasted the solacing warmth of the morning sun under which you basked, strolling between green leaves and bright reds with a near-empty basket dangling at your side. You wanted him to work faster, to disregard whatever negligible bumps lay on the apples’ exterior, but you opted to remain silent, simply watching him from the sidelines while he carried on with his meticulous inspections.
Seokmin was spring. Smiles that could bring a barren land to life, vivid flora and singing birds fluttering around within the glimmers decorating his irises. But spring had long since ended, now treading deeper into the cooling weather of autumn, and yet, Seokmin still offered verve to everything he touched. Even as green turned to yellow then amber, and tanned skin rested beneath thick layers of cashmere and fleece, he still wore his spring smile—a reminder that the season of life will come again. He carried warmth wherever he went, and the biting chill attempting to penetrate thick layers of clothing stood no chance while his towering figure remained by your side.
You watched him throw the fallen end of his scarf over his shoulder, a woven cream he’d worn on your first date. Hoary yarn ends peeked out along its length, and you reminisced the store tag he’d forgotten to remove while he fiddled with his fingers and laughed anxiously before you all those years ago, so young and eager to impress. You’d mused over the giggles shaking his tense shoulders, the pretty pink painting his face and ears when you failed to rip it off in a discreet manner, and though the embarrassment was debilitating in the moment, the worry weighing down on Seokmin’s shoulders faded away as you laughed. It was well into winter when you’d walked alongside the river, steaming cups of hot chocolate resting between your palms—going cold before you had the chance to sip on them, only there to fight off the bleak midwinter breeze numbing your appendages. Young and dumb, you both were, walking by the river on a chilly day, but young and dumb brought upon you years of easy smiles and hearty laughs, unconditional love and unending happiness, all sprouting from sharing arbitrary details about yourselves with that same cream scarf draped around you both.
Dark locks now dyed the colour of changing leaves, the morning rays casting their golden hue over the wavy strands and reflecting off the specs perched over his nose bridge. Seokmin was a few inches taller now, and his shoulders broader, but the smile he wore, the sparkle in his eyes as he laid them on you were no different than those from that day by the river.
Chatter at your side dragged your attention off Seokmin’s profile and onto the family walking past you—two curious children and their parents inspecting the ripe fruit hanging before them. Scripts of late-night conversations you’d had with Seokmin flooded your mind, your face flushing and butterflies swarming your lower belly at the thought of starting a family with the man. Seokmin's fascination with learning how to braid your hair, his whispered comment—’for the future’—did not go unnoticed as he brushed gentle fingers through the stands he’d tangled in his attempts, a hint of a promise in his tone. He also promised to never leave them alone with Hoshi, which you appreciated. For obvious reasons. You were still young, and had much to experience together before taking a step that significant, but part of you was ready to offer Seokmin the world. A man who’d brought nothing bliss and warmth into your life, how could you not?
Turning your head back to the man in question, your eyebrows raised as you watched him eying the passing family alongside you, and you wondered whether the same thoughts were running through his head as well. But then his attention shifted back to you, and the amiable smile while he took you in told you everything you needed to know.
The curve of his lips persisted as he reached a hand to push the stray strands blown by the chilling breeze off your face, pinching the fat of your cheeks between his pointer and thumb before dropping them back to his side. A gentle gesture, but it lit your insides on fire, blinking quickly as you processed an action so natural to him, yet one that set you ablaze. Swallowing nervously, you redirected your gaze to the three apples resting over Seokmin’s palms as he presented the flawless, shiny Honeycrisps with a proud grin.
You giggled, “those look great, Min.”
“Only the best for you,” he leaned forward to plant a kiss onto the cheek he’d just pinched.
Flustered, you watched him throw the apples into the basket you held, his fingers brushing against yours as he swiftly pulled it out of your hand and carried on walking through the orchard. You might have missed a few additions to the small pile while you pondered about a lifetime by Seokmin’s side, and yes, the basket was significantly more weighed down now that he did. But it wasn’t that heavy.
You skipped a few steps to catch up with him, your bottom lip jutting out in protest. “Min. I can carry it myself.”
“Mm, I know,” he hummed, eyes trained on the novel batch of apples swinging gently at his eye level. “Don’t want you to, though.”
You pushed away the fondness warming your chest, capturing his coat’s sleeve between two fingers as you sulked at his side, his attention still set on those damn apples. He moved the basket to his other hand absentmindedly, allowing you more space to come closer to his side, his free arm wrapping around your waist, and head twisting to look over your moping features with tender adoration gracing his own. Leaning down, he pressed soft lips to your forehead, their warmth seeping into your skin and fluttering your eyelids shut.
Placing another one at your temple, playfulness mingled in his tone as he spoke, “Stop complaining, you’re not getting it back.”
And this time, all you could do was laugh.
The hours hurried by while Seokmin’s endless chatter kept you company, and perhaps you wish it hadn’t, wanting to treasure each passing second you shared in the presence of the man with the unwavering smile. You walked between the endless trees with leisure steps, the fingers entangled with yours occasionally dragging you with them to inspect the gradient of red and green. Some apples made the cut, thrown into the pile of spotless fruit he’d gathered over the past few hours, while others remained swaying with the gentle breeze, bruised exterior reflecting the golden rays.
A particular shade of green caught Seokmin’s eye, leaving your hand behind at your side to wrap slender fingers around the glossy circumference, rotating it gently to inspect it, going as far as leaning forward to get a closer look. Nodding to himself, he snapped its stem off and placed the weighted basket down, wrapping the apple in his cream scarf to give it a good wipe. You felt yourself salivate at the satisfying crunch sounding as Seokmin’s teeth breached the unblemished skin, and you watched the pucker of his lips as he chewed with wide, expecting eyes. A breathy chuckle contained within tightly pursed lips echoed in the back of his throat upon viewing the anticipation etched into your expression, and he moved the unbitten side towards your already-parted lips. Too focused on the apple nearing your waiting mouth, you’d missed the sly smile, the giggle he’d nearly failed at suppressing, and bit into the polished green.
A stream of its juice slipped past to flow down your chin, bitterness overwhelming your tastebuds and forcing your eyes firmly shut. A shiver ran down your spine as you struggled to chew on the unripe fruit, tears prickling in your eyes as you willed them open to glare at the man before you, hints of guilt mixed in with amusement on his face. Underneath all the kind smiles and caring gestures, Seokmin loved being an asshole.
He’d watched you persist and push through finishing the bite, too many people around now to spit it out. He even leaned forward to kiss away the tangy juice cooling over your skin, scrunching his nose at the sourness he’d willingly stolen another taste of. At least he was aware enough to take a step back once you’d swallowed the unpleasant bite down, what you thought was fear flashing across his features.
“Hey,” he put his hand up in defence before you could speak, “we share everything, right?” He took another step backward while giggling anxiously, and he nearly tripped over the apple-full basket he had resting over the soft grass. “Why should I make an exception for fruit?”
“Bad fruit,” you corrected, an eyebrow raised.
“Babe,” he started, but didn’t know how to continue, perhaps hoping the sparkling brown of his irises would do the trick.
And it almost did, you admit. But the bitterness lingered over your tongue, and Seokmin found himself scurrying away and out of the fire zone of the incoming apples you’d launched at him, laughing while you entertained the couples and children harvesting their own fruit with your lively act of revenge.
--
You smoothed your hands down the fresh set of clothes you’d thrown on, the fleece warm against your skin. The ligneous scent of your rented cabin added to its coziness, gentle winds blowing against closed windows and floorboards creaking with every socked footstep guiding you to the small kitchen.
Said footsteps quickened upon spotting bright green reflecting off the sharp metal of the very large knife in Seokmin’s hand, eyebrows furrowed as he focused on dividing the apple into even crescents. The hurried shuffling drew his attention, twisting his head just as you reached for the sharp tool, gently untangling his fingers off its handle to set it down over the cutting board alongside the botched fruit.
“Baby?” Tilting his head to the side, he stared at you in confusion.
You held both his hands in yours, flat over your palms as you inspected the tanned skin. Running your thumbs over polished nailbeds, you followed the protruding veins lining his slender fingers, all the way down each knuckle until you’d made sure he was unharmed. You enclosed his fingers within your palm, bringing them up to press your lips against, finding his pointer to plant an especially tender kiss over the scar stretching across its side.
“I was being careful,” he spoke through a melodramatic pout.
You smiled. “I know you were, Min. But let me handle the chopping this time, okay?”
Averting his eyes to the side, pretending to focus on the yellowing trees past the windowpane, Seokmin nodded, his hands limp in your hold. You lowered them to his side to cradle his jaw, tilting his head down to meet your eyes once again and staring him down in hopes of breaking his composure, but Seokmin’s pout persisted. And so the kisses began, soft and delicate over his cheekbones, forcing his eyes shut as you trailed your lips over the trembling skin. Leaning your head back, you watched his evident struggle against a betraying smile, finally curling the corners of his mouth when you’d dragged his head down with a forceful kiss to his cheek, the skin stretching under your lips while you kept them pressed there for a few more seconds. You moved away with an audible smack, Seokmin’s pout nowhere to be seen as he stared down at you with an uncontainable smile.
“Why don’t you make the dough instead?”
You picked up where Seokmin left off—half an apple chopped sloppily, which you ended up munching on while you worked—going through the washed apples to pick out the greenest, cutting them into even pieces and throwing them in a bowl of cinnamon and sugar. You remembered the nutmeg later on, after the frustrated noise at your side caught your attention, confusion raising your eyebrow when you’d noticed the powdery dough Seokmin was working with. He’d forgotten the eggs.  The embarrassment on his face was adorable, rose-tinted cheeks and restrained smile while watching you crack an egg into the crumbly mess he’d been working on for a shameful amount of time. A quick kiss to his jaw and a whispered ‘it’s okay, Min’ seemed to do the trick, though.
Tossing the last of the apples into the seasoning bowl, you sprinkled nutmeg over the shimmering crescents before grabbing a clean spoon from the dishrack, the spices’ aroma wafting in the air around you as you mixed them in with the fruit. Glancing over at Seokmin, you realised he’d begun kneading the dough, flour dusted over the marble counter as he rolled the raw crust in on itself, and as you took in the hard muscle bulging against the sleeve of his t-shirt, your fingers unconsciously loosened around the spoon you held. Your eyes wandered over flexing biceps and defined, broad shoulders, veins protruding from tan skin as he worked the dough under his palm. Bottom lip tucked between a set of pearly whites, his eyebrows furrowed occasionally while the ball gradually smoothened in his hands, growing less crumbly and eventually forming a near-perfect sphere.
Absentmindedly tumbling the apples with a limp grip around the spoon, you followed Seokmin’s movements, lower belly fluttering with every faint, airy grunt sounding in the back of his throat as he worked the dough.  Your thoughts strayed as you eyed the distracting flex of his muscles—the smile he wore, so sweet and tender, contrasted broad shoulders and the strength to manhandle you without much thought. You were almost certain Seokmin had no awareness of the fact, going about what he was doing without much regard to the blushing mess he’d left behind, the butterflies violently thrashing around within your stomach. The sparkling orbs with which he gazed at you, with charming innocence, oblivious to the effect he had on you. Perhaps that was for the best; you weren’t sure you’d want to find out what would become of him should he learn of the hidden power he’d been holding this entire time.
Sudden eye contact dragged you out of your daydreams when the man before you turned in your direction, the smooth doughball resting over his palm, and a proud smile on his lips. You held back the one threatening to break out on yours when you’d spotted the white dusting the pointy tip of his nose, some lightly powdering his cheeks as well. Instead, your chest warmed at his wordless flaunting as he slowly moved the undented dough towards you, sparkling eyes fishing for praise. And sure, you basically made the dough for him, and yes, all he did was mix the ingredients together with firm, hard-earned muscle, but the slight falter in his smile the longer you remained silent was enough to sway you.
“It looks great, Min!” You stepped closer, inspecting the roundness with wide eyes for a few seconds before straightening up to meet his eyes, “I’m proud of you, my love.”
Though a simple gesture, Seokmin’s face lit up, all but hurling the dough onto the counter to pull you into his arms, grinning into your shoulder while he squeezed your laughing frame closer to his chest. His arms still around you, he pulled away slightly, stars dancing in his eyes as he gazed at you gleefully, smiling against your lips as you got onto your tiptoes to kiss him lightly. But that didn’t satisfy Seokmin, his arm wrapping across your back to pull you back into him, locking his lips with yours once again, this time with hunger and hints of desire laced into the action. He kissed you once, twice, until he’d had a taste and realized he’d never have enough, needing sweetness and plush lips to forever bless his senses. While you held on to his biceps for balance, Seokmin was everywhere—hands up your back, over your arms and waist, and suddenly he was kissing you harder, deeper, tongue swiping across your bottom lip and teeth digging into it with a fervent want that sent waves of heat soaring through your body.
Pulling away for air, your chests heaved in unison, flush against one another as Seokmin peered down at you with hooded eyes, a spark of lust igniting the dark irises. And suddenly you were back in the present, the forgotten apples browning in their bowl, and the dough witnessing the heated exchange from its place on the counter.
“T-the pie!” you quickly diverted, pushing Seokmin away to shift your focus back to the task at hand, but you could feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull. “Can you preheat the oven please?”
An amused laugh sounded behind you at the shakiness of your voice, “yes, boss.” Just as you were about to sigh in relief, you heard him take a step towards you, his chest bumping into your shoulder and a gentle whisper blowing against the shell of your ear. “You have flour all over your face, by the way.”
And your pants, you thought, as his palm landed a playful slap onto your ass before he made his way to the other side of the kitchen.
The heat coursing through you dwindled as you fixated on the unfinished pie, save for those resulting from the not-so-hidden glances you’d stolen of Seokmin’s defined biceps as he moved the rolling pin over the dough. It was smooth sailing after that, though, missing the heart eyes directed at you as you spooned the filling into the rolled-out crust, perfectly fitted into the baking mould. You attempted to control your expressions as Seokmin tried and failed to cut straight lines out of the leftover dough, begrudgingly allowing him to place the uneven lattice in a questionable pattern, the chipper smile stretching his lips while he worked more than enough to excuse an ugly pie.
Carrying the raw pie over his head like Simba, Seokmin made his way to the oven. You held the door open for him, eyes following the baking mould as he transferred it onto the rack, gasping when his finger met the scorching metal. He placed the pie down and pretended nothing happened, ignoring the forming mark on his knuckle as he swung the oven door shut. And despite the whining and attempts of reassurance, you dragged Seokmin to the sink and ran cold water over his hand, once again kissing his pout away while you stood with barely any space separating your bodies.
His free hand slid across the small of your back, his other leaving its place under the running water to shut it off, wiping the droplets over his sweats before holding onto your hip. Leaning down, he met your lips once more, then again, until short pecks deepened, and a sharp nose nuzzled into the side of yours as he pulled you further into his body.
You pulled away with a gasp, startling Seokmin away from your lips, “the sweet potatoes!”
The initial shock replaced by softening eyes and a breathy laugh, Seokmin squeezed your waist once before releasing you. He stood to the side while you wrapped foil around the sangria exterior, offering to put them in the oven for you, but backing down at the disapproving glare you threw at him. Perhaps Seokmin had unintentionally caused a case of Pavlovian conditioning, one you remained unaware of, because the very second his bottom lip jutted out, yours were pressing consoling kisses over its plushness. Sometimes it took a few tries, but that’s only because you enjoyed watching the man—broad shoulders and all—sulk and whine when he didn’t get his way, only to lighten up and grin once your lips met his. It’s unclear who the winner was in this game, both parties working with a motive and ending with a satisfying result. Peculiar, really.
You settled down on the creaky floorboards across from the oven, your back to Seokmin’s chest and his thighs on either side of yours. His arms rested comfortably around your waist, hands limp at your hips, occasionally squeezing at the clothed flesh. Watching the pie crust brown through the glass, you basked in the cosy aroma circulating the cabin, the heat emanating from Seokmin’s body gentler and more comforting than that caramelising the sugar drizzled over the wonky lattice. Delicate fingers smoothed down your hair, and a silky voice lulled you to a tranquil state of comfort, strong arms holding you within the aura of warmth until a sharp click sounded, with the nostalgic scent of cinnamon and caramel to guide you out of slumber’s enticing grip, and back to toothy smiles and a cordial embrace.
--
The night’s breeze was crisp against slick skin, the warmth encased within the confines of the thick blankets now infiltrated through a window forgotten open. Seokmin noticed the raised goosebumps over your arms, and lowered his body until your chests laid flush, his forearms on either side of your head keeping his weight off your form.
“Cold?” he asked, lips pressing against your jaw and up to your cheekbone, over the frosty tip of your nose.
You shook your head, “not anymore,” and wrapped your arms around the soft skin of his waist.
Seokmin smiled, gentle features illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the cracked-open blinds—a cool-toned hue casting shadows over his face, moving as he pressed his pelvis closer to yours with an exhaled moan. Moving his weight over to one arm, he slid the other down to your core, splaying his palm out over your lower belly to thumb at your clit.
He’d been teasing you for so long—his cock filling you up the way you wanted, but only barely teasing your g-spot, refusing to move despite your repetitive whines; instead, he occasionally reached two slender fingers between your legs to relieve some of the arousal burning underneath your skin. This time, though, you’d reached your limit, clenching around him as a sudden high rushed through you, shaking your body within his hold.
Despite a day’s worth of lingering touches and heated kisses, a hand placed a little too low on your back, and eyes lit with unconcealed glints of want, the patience Seokmin exhibited as he guided you through your orgasm was not surprising. He’d always enjoyed giving—curling his fingers just right to take in the elegant arch of your back, your sweet taste on his tongue while he nuzzled his nose into your soaked pussy. But most of all, Seokmin savoured the tight squeeze around his cock as he fucked you through an orgasm, his breath heavy and eyes lidded with the pleasure your walls lavished upon him.
Slowly fading back into the present, you peered up at the man atop you, the column of his throat stretched as he took in the violent fluttering of your walls. But you wanted more, pent up and restless with his scent, his warm touch, occupying your every sense. And he still won’t move.
You rolled your hips experimentally, a startled hand rushing to stop you, fingers digging into the flesh to stifle the motion. “Please,” you whined, “Min, please move.”
Groaning at your tone, cock throbbing between your walls, “oh baby,” he breathed out, bumping his forehead with yours and allowing his eyelids to fall shut. “I’ve been thinking about having you like this all day. I wanna last for you, my love, ‘wanna make you feel so good.”
Arousal boiled in your lower belly, eyelashes fluttering and a shaky breath escaping your parted lips at the words whispered in the air between you. “Min-”
“Let me be good for you.”
A kiss to your temple and a few inhales were all it took Seokmin to regain his composure, his forehead still pressed to yours as he tugged you closer by the hips, languidly rolling his own into your heat. The leisure glide wasn’t much, but it sent a shiver through your body. It was as though Seokmin could read the wordless pleads sparkling in your eyes, pulling his face away just enough to adjust the angle before settling back down onto your body. Fingers tangled in your hair to keep your eyes on his, blinking in unison while you breathed the same air, gentle waves of pleasure drawing breathy moans out of the both of you, his cockhead brushing against your sweet spot every time he drove it inside your cunt.
Sliding a hand over his sweat-coated nape, you dragged Seokmin down to your lips, the sweetness of a pie forgotten outside enriching your tastebuds, the single remaining piece left over the picnic blanket alongside crumbled foil—the unintentionally discarded dessert serving as breakfast for the blackbirds to nip at when the morning came.
The hand lost in your hair found its way to your jaw, cradling your face while he devoured you, the kiss growing deeper the farther Seokmin sunk down the blazing pit of lust growing within him. His cock twitched erratically within you, pace picking up until the echo of skin-on-skin danced between the four walls, hips slamming against yours with fervour as his eagerness finally won over him. Unable to focus on anything but the mind-numbing heaviness of his cock pounding into you, your lips parted to release a staccato of ah’s, his own relentless as they peppered wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your face.
“God, you’re perfect,” he grabbed your cheeks with the hand previously on your jaw, squishing them together to lay his lips onto the forced pout on yours, “all mine.”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the repetitive abuse to your cunt, squelching obscenely every time Seokmin fucked his entire length inside. “All—hngh—all yours,” you repeated, exhaling a breath you’d been holding when sudden warmth spread through your abdomen.
“I—hah—‘m sorry,” he stuttered as his rhythm turned sloppy, shuddering when he finally came. Sheathing himself deep withing your heat, he fed ropes of translucent white into your womb while attempting to keep his eyes on you, long eyelashes fluttering while ecstasy flowed through his body.  “Felt so good, I couldn’t…” he paused to lower his head, interrupted by a string of airy moans as the last, weak spurts of cum emptied out of his twitching cock. “I couldn’t help it,” he muttered.
The reassurance died on your tongue when the sensitive cock drew out halfway, only to slam back into you as though the arms bracketing your head didn’t continue to tremble with the continuing effects of his orgasm. Lifting his head back up to meet your gaze, he lowered his hand back down to play with your cunt, dipping down to feel around your stretched hole and back up to circle your clit with the slick he’d collected, a silent promise of “I’ll be good” glimmering in his lidded eyes while he watched you fall apart under his touch.
And he was, so good.
You tumbled over the edge unexpectedly, cockhead pounding into your cunt while he rolled your clit underneath his fingertips until your features contorted gracefully, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids as you shut them and tilted your head back to welcome a stupefying orgasm. You tensed for a moment, then began spasming uncontrollably in his arms, hips simultaneously jerking towards and away from his touch as he guided you through your high, languidly gliding his cock along your dripping, clenching walls, both hands now gripping the soft flesh of your hips.
And when the stimulation sent pangs of pain up your body, a whispered repetition of his name paired with limp tugs at his wrist finally broke Seokmin away from you and the bewitching melody he drew out of the perfect circle shaping your mouth. He slid his softening cock out of your heat to allow thick dollops of pearly cum to stream out of your pussy, watching as your hole clenched uselessly until your abashed whine dragged him out of his thoughts.
You found yourself tucked in under layers of thick blankets while running water sounded in the bathroom, bare feet padding over the floorboards until Seokmin—with his boxers on backwards—reached under the covers to blindly drag a warm washcloth over your skin, hoping it would catch all the sweat and cum without having to expose you to the chill air. You drew your lips into a straight line to avoid laughing at the concentration furrowing his eyebrows, cheeks flushing as he washed your middle. Any other day, Seokmin would make a big deal of cleaning you up properly, but you could see the hair on his arms raising, the autumn night’s chill piercing through his skin.
He didn’t even bother with returning the rag to its place, tossing it over his shoulder to dive under the cosy blankets with you, limbs tangling as soon as he made it there—arms circling your tired frame and legs pushing between and over yours. The momentary frigidity dissipating, his body heat seeped into your very being, and you inhaled the fresh scent of laundry mixed in with remaining hints of his cologne. Nuzzling the pointy tip of his nose into your hair, he planted a kiss onto your crown, the gesture faint as his steady heartbeat lulled you to much-needed slumber, the serene trip to dreamland occupied with solacing thoughts about a forever home within Seokmin’s tender embrace.
reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡
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wheeboo · 4 months
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soft hrs for dokyeom: thinking about [tipsy live2] and dokyeom holding woozi while he cried :(( and kissing his cheeks and his head :(( and js dokyeom in general bc did u know this video got me into svt
no bcuz this clip gets me soft every time :(( the way seokmin held him and kissed his cheeks and head :(( it rlly shows their close bond as a group and i'm so proud of how far they've come <3 and this video getting you into svt is actually so adorable pls. anyways!! let me write a lil drabble for the soft hr <3
imagine seokmin having to pick you up from a hangout with your friends. he expected for you and your friends to drink, but he surely didn't expect you to be tipsy and at the cusp of being wasted, nearly stumbling to where he stood outside as you parted ways from everyone.
as he got you in the car and began to drive home, he notices how unusually silent you were throughout the short ride, but he doesn't say anything about it--not yet at least--simply taking it as you being exhausted and ready to go to bed.
he helped slipped you out of your shoes and took of your coat as he led you inside your (and his) place.
"let me get you a glass of water," he reassures you sweetly, leading you to sit down on the couch.
yet just as he's about to go to the kitchen, a tug at his sleeve stops him, and he turns back to you. you open your mouth as if about to speak, but only a choked sound leaves your lips. you're crying.
a sudden rush of adrenaline flows through seokmin as he grabs your hand into his. "hey, sweetheart, wh-what's wrong? why are you crying?"
"i-i'm scared."
seokmin furrows up a brow, confused. "scared?"
"that you'll..." you swallow a lump in your throat, trying to fight your blurry thoughts. "that you'll break up with me."
seokmin's eyes only widen, expression shifting from confusion to concern as he processes your words. he sits down beside you on the couch, still holding your hand gently, and looks into your eyes with a reassuring gaze.
"hey, hey," he whispers softly. "where is this coming from? you know i care about you more than anything, right?"
you sniffle, trying to compose yourself. "i-i don't know. it's just... tonight, when i was with my friends, i saw you watching us, and i thought, maybe you'd get tired of me. and when we were driving home, i thought you were disappointed. and all my friends were, um, talking about their break-ups with their partners and it got me thinking things--"
"i would never get tired of you, sunshine," seokmin affirms, gently wiping away the tears that continue to streak down your cheeks. "i love you, and watching over you tonight had nothing to do with being tired of you. i just want to make sure you're safe and okay."
seokmin wraps an arm around you, bringing you close to his side. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, and one to your cheek. when he pulls away, he notices the very faint, subtle smile beginning to curl at your lips.
"i'm not going anywhere, okay?" he says, rubbing his hand up and down your arm, trying to coax your uncertain thoughts away.
you manage a nod, closing your eyes momentarily to relish his warmth surrounding you.
"okay," you whisper, voice still shaky but the reassurance in seokmin's words starting to sink in. "i love you too. i-i'm sorry for doubting. i don't know what got into me."
"it's okay, love." his lips meet your temple, lingering for a few moments longer, before pulling back to meet your eyes with a loving smile. the room seems to brighten. "now let me take care of you tonight."
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shuastruck · 11 months
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SUNSHINE AND SUNFLOWERS
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PAIRING || lee seokmin x female reader
GENRES || fluff, sort of childhood friends to lovers, college au, humour, angst
SUMMARY || when you entered college, the last thing you expected was to see your childhood friend lee seokmin in a sea of unknown faces. but just as you had expected, he didn't even remember you in the slightest. you didn't blame him; he had moved away in first grade and how many people remembered their best friend from kindergarten? but that didn't stop you from falling for his cute smile and sweet personality, so now you were stuck in love with a boy who barely knew your existence.
or, in which, if you were a sunflower then seokmin was your sunshine.
WARNINGS || mentioned in the chapters!
A/N || here i am as promised; after my 12th but with a svt smau instead. pls do tell me what you think about it!
START DATE || 23.05.2023
END DATE || 11.10.2023
TAGLIST || closed!
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CHAPTERS ||
one. profile 1 !!! we need to meditate club
two. profile 2 !!! drama cult
three. 01 !!! the dating situation
four. 02 !!! secret cupid
five. 03 !!! feels familiar
six. 04 !!! it's a date! (exaggerated)
seven. 05 !!! wrong move
eight. 06 !!! bs (+95z) to the rescue
nine. 07 !!! still not close
ten. 08 !!! the party 2.0
eleven. 09 !!! alexa play 'perfect' by one direction
twelve. (bonus) profile 3 !!! the new campus crush
thirteen. 10 !!! jealousy, jealousy
fourteen. 11 !!! café dates vs. movie dates
fifteen. 12 !!! field trips, crushes and seokmin
sixteen. 13 !!! messed up
seventeen. 14 !!! homewrecker
eighteen. (bonus) !!! profile 4 !!! the 'girlfriend'
nineteen. 15 !!! "true love is loving from afar" - shakespeare (not)
twenty. (bonus) !!! the past unlocked
twenty one. 16 !!! in the light of the recent events
twenty two. (bonus) !!! out of control
twenty three. 17 !!! that warm, fuzzy feeling
twenty four. 18 !!! to spill or not to spill?
twenty five. 19 !!! sunshine and sunflowers
twenty six. epilogue 1 !!! the final summer
twenty seven. (bonus) !!! memory lane
twenty eight. epilogue 2 !!! secret rendezvous
twenty nine. (bonus) !!! the great betrayal happens
thirty. (bonus) !!! poprocks, strawberry, bubblegum
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© 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑
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thepixelelf · 28 days
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how to harvest sunshine
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a continuing part for the couple from the only way to get a good sleep!
genres: established relationship, fluff!! pairing: reader x seokmin words: 475 (ik it's short and doesn't need header images but idk it's a part 2 😭😭 idk) warnings: none :] notes: this is for elv @seokmins day once again!! ((ignore that this is a little late pls ty ily <3))
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Seokmin has been a little, itty bitty, teensy bit dishonest with his boss for the past eight days.
Yes, this city is beautiful. Yes, the views are incredible. Yes, he's very grateful for this opportunity, and for being especially chosen to join him on this business trip.
But truthfully, Seokmin wants to go home.
Not because the city isn't beautiful or the views aren't incredible or he isn't grateful, but because he really, really wants to see you.
"For the record," you say as you prop your phone on the counter so it captures your upper half and some of the sink. "I also haven't seen you in eight days. I miss you too."
With a sleepy smile, Seokmin watches you as you start to wash the dishes. He wishes he was there to help you out, but he's hours away -- by plane -- and stuck in this admittedly nice hotel room. "I could just get on a flight tomorrow. Leave early."
You chuckle. "I don't think that's the best idea."
"Didn't you just say you miss me?" he whines with a pout.
"Now now, don't be like that," you tease, wiping your hands dry on on a tea towel. "You told me you were excited to visit that famous pizza place tomorrow."
He beams. "Guilty."
"Ooh. Hold right there."
"Hm?" Seokmin tilts his head, confused.
"No, wait, put that smile back on." You reach over for your phone and pull it so he sees your face more up close.
He can't help but laugh. "What are you doing?"
"Harvesting sunshine," you say with a cheeky smile. "Screenshotting. I'm going through withdrawals."
"Withdrawals?"
You take another picture of him. "A vitamin D deficiency, at least. I haven't gotten to see my favourite smile in a week."
"Any tips on how to collect moonlight?"
Snapping one last screenshot, you put your phone back on the counter. "Hmm... not unless you do get on that plane tomorrow."
You shouldn't tempt him like that, he thinks. If he didn't know you were just being silly, he'd book the flight right now with your video call at the corner of his screen.
Seokmin shifts on the hotel bed, letting his head rest on the pillow and hiding his smile under the edge of the blanket. "Hey..." he drawls.
You put the last dish on the drying rack. "Yeah?"
"Remember how I asked you to marry me?"
Chuckling, you slide the ring you'd taken off while your hands were wet back onto your third finger. You wiggle your hand in front of the camera. "Yes, sunshine, I remember."
"Can we do that soon?"
You try to hide how wide your smile is by pressing your lips together between your teeth, and you cross your arms with a shrug while nodding towards the drying rack. "Can I get these dishes done first?"
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miniseokminnies · 2 months
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through a different lens — l.sm
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❥ pairing: lee seokmin x gn!reader ❥ theme: meet cute, strangers to something ❥ wc: ~3.4k ❥ warnings: fluff, language barrier, mentions of alcohol, author is obviously down bad, author also obviously doesn't live in london (let them live) ❥ a/n: this was supposed to be for valentine's day but kind of turned into a bigger project than i anticipated so it's for seokmin's birthday as well! i really like this one so please let me know what you think!! likes and reblogs appreciated
This wasn’t your scene. Oh God this was not your scene. Your friends always want to go clubbing on Friday nights, and being a good friend you always gave in. However, right about now, when the music was vibrating your skull, being anywhere else sounded amazing. 
“y/n!” the voice of your friend pierced through the noise and brought you back from inside your head, “come take a shot!” she smiled at you. Reluctantly you joined your friends, all drunker than you. Someone shoved the small glass into your hand and you threw it back easily and quickly. The liquid burned all the way down into your stomach, you felt your cheeks flush with heat. 
Eyes wandering toward the exit of the crowded bar, the thought crossed your mind to leave. Looking back toward your friends they were once again engaged in their own conversations, paying little attention to you. They all expect you to slip out early without telling anyone, you always do. 
Cool air bloomed in your lungs and you felt like you could breathe for the first time tonight. The street in front of you was not particularly crowded, the walk home will probably be easy and refreshing. Taking another deep breath of fresh air you began in the direction of your flat. The city used to excite you, but these days you’d rather be home with some tea and a good book. You really wished you had stayed home tonight. 
“Excuse me?” you heard a timid voice cut the silence. You suppressed a groan, you hadn’t even been walking for five minutes. Turning toward the source of the voice you were met with the confused face of a man, “Do you know…a place to eat?” he asked, accompanying the question with an eating motion with his hand. 
“Uh yeah, there’s a great place down the street a ways and around the corner, if you go past Pennie’s you’ve gone way too far,” looking back at the man you could see the concentration on his face as he tried to remember your directions. Feeling bold from the remaining alcohol in your system you took a step closer to him, “I’ll show you, I could go for a bite too” He smiled at you then, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, even in the darkness of the street you swear his teeth were shining. 
“Thank you” he finally said with a bow of his head, breaking your trance and setting your feet in motion. The two of you walked side by side, your arms folded around you, and him clutching his camera. The walk was silent, aside from the man asking to stop to snap pictures a few times. It was odd though, the silence was never once uncomfortable for you, and he made no indication that it was for him either. 
Every so often you glanced up at him, getting a better look at him now that the street was more well lit. You noticed his strong nose first, the way the light settled on his face made him look ethereal. Judging by his amazement for a shitty London street, you knew he was a tourist. Looking back at your feet you smiled to yourself, it was nice to see someone so excited about something you see every day. 
“This is it!” you smile at him as the two of you approach the restaurant. He nods at you, seemingly waiting for you to enter. He trails behind you as you enter the building and inform the staff that you’ll be needing a table for two. Once you were seated you broke the tension, “So…where are you from?” you asked hesitantly. 
“I am from Korea” he spoke slowly, but you saw his eyes light up at your question. Speaking of his eyes, sitting across the table from him you now saw them fully, a warm brown that compliments his tanned skin nicely. There are crinkles at the corners of his eyes, indicating that smile he flashed at you in the street was a normal part of his communication. 
“That’s far,” you remarked, taking a sip of your water, “what brings you here?” 
“Mmm” he thought for a moment, “holiday” he answered simply. You nodded as he looked around the restaurant, “my name is Seokmin” his eyes found yours again. 
“My name is y/n” you exchanged with a small smile. Something about the kindness in his eyes made you squirm under his gaze. When the waiter came around to your table you once again decided to be bold, ordering fish and chips for Seokmin and yourself. If he came all the way from Korea you felt it was your duty to show him London’s best classics. Was it jumping too far to feel like he had met you in the street for a reason? 
“Two beers, please” Seokmin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts once again. He was smiling up at the waiter holding up two fingers. The waiter nodded and headed toward the kitchen. 
“Good call” you smiled at him, hoping to get a better look at his face when he smiles in return. Just your luck, he turned to you beaming. His eyes do crinkle when he smiles. 
The food came quickly, not that you would have minded if it took a little longer than usual. Seokmin has a way of making you feel at ease, even in a social situation that would typically make you incredibly nervous. He did his best keeping up with conversation, you felt terrible about not being able to communicate in his native language. 
Seokmin stared down at his plate, his eyes widening at the amount of food. “Try it, try it” you nearly squealed. You did not even dare to pick up your fork until you knew he liked the food. Your eyes followed the movement of his hand as his delicate fingers picked his fork up from the table. He lifted the bite of fish to his lips and popped it in his mouth. Immediately, he let out a satisfied sound. 
“This is good!” he smiled after he swallowed. You smiled back at him and cut the fish with your fork as well. At some point in the meal, you were completely enthralled in Seokmin. The way he moved interested you even and even though you didn’t know nearly anything about him, somehow you knew you had never met anyone like him. 
Something then made him laugh under his breath. Putting your glass down you gave him a questioning look. Trying not to smile, he gestured with his finger around his mouth. At this, your hand flew to your lips and you flushed with embarrassment as you felt the foam from your beer on your upper lip. 
You could hear him nearly choking on his laugh and your eyes lifted again to meet his. Immediately, he tried to avert his glance, but you could tell he was still stifling his giggles. You felt your cheeks heat up again, and butterflies settle in your stomach. You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked in that moment. Pulling out your phone and positioning it so he was in your view finder you remarked, 
“You should see how silly you look trying to hold back your teasing,” his eyes crinkled again at this, butterflies erupted in your stomach, and he threw up a peace sign, inviting you to take the picture. “Look!” you exclaimed, turning your phone so he could see the picture. Seokmin was laughing now, throwing his head back and clapping, the whole thing. You were lucky that in his excitement, he missed the fond look you gave him without even realizing. 
“Do you know your way back to where you’re staying?” you asked earnestly once the two of you had paid and were outside the restaurant. He nodded at you and turned his phone, much like you did earlier, so you could see that he had the address and walking directions pulled up. “Good, now,” you pulled your phone out, “give me your number, I don’t want you getting lost” 
*** 
Your life continued as normal the next day. Waking up, thankful you didn’t drink much the night before, you slipped out of bed toward the kitchen. Clicking on the kettle you think about the night before. Meeting Seokmin almost felt like it was a dream, but you have a photo on your phone to prove it wasn’t. He had also insisted that you send the picture you took, so you do have at least one thread of text conversation.  
You reached for a mug, wishing you were taller, and heard your phone buzz on the counter. Assuming it was one of your friends texting you asking where you disappeared to last night, you continued to make your tea. Then your phone buzzed two more times, none of your friends would be that desperate to talk to you. Once your tea bag was securely in your mug you grabbed your phone. 
Seokmin (fish n chips guy): y/n 
Seokmin (fish n chips guy): the bus
Seokmin (fish n chips guy): ????? 
Your heart skipped a beat realizing he actually texted you. Then, you began laughing realizing what he was asking. 
You: do you need help? 
Seokmin (fish n chips guy): yes 
Seokmin (fish n chips guy): please 
Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent their location
Oh. Oh. He wanted to meet up again, you nearly spat out your tea seeing the notifications pop in. Checking his location you saw that he is at a bus stop a twenty minute walk away from you. You scrambled to get ready and ran out the door. 
You saw him immediately when you rounded the corner to the stop. He was looking through his pictures on his camera, fully engrossed in his task. He looked up as you approached and moved toward you. 
“y/n” he breathed 
“How may I help” you smiled, giving a dramatic bow. He moved toward you, pulling out his phone. Standing at your side he showed his phone screen, with a bus route pulled up. “oh, easy” you looked up at him, trying not to blush at the sudden closeness, “I take that bus all the time” 
You paid Seokmin’s bus fare, it’s the least you could do after he paid for the dinner you invited yourself to last night. Seokmin dragged you by the sleeve to the back of the bus, which is a place you would normally avoid but seeing how excited he was, you didn’t mind. 
As the bus began to move Seokmin watched out the window, the city zooming by. You watched him watch the window. He looked cute when he was focused. The thick black framed glasses perched on his nose reflected the scenery. Without thinking you pulled out your phone, snapping a picture of him just like last night. Seokmin must have seen you out of the corner of his eye because he turned toward you. 
He raised his camera and watched you through the viewfinder for several moments. You covered your face with your hands in a futile attempt to hide your blushing cheeks. You heard the shutter click a few times and then silence. Removing your hands you look up at him to find he is looking right back at you. Seemingly he became flustered and turned back towards the window. 
You realized halfway through the trip, you weren’t actually sure where you two were going. Sure, you took this route all the time, but you didn’t know where Seokmin wanted to go. The only indication you had that it was time to get off the bus was Seokmin standing up suddenly. It was a stop you never get off at, but you follow him out and onto the street. 
He grabbed his phone and pulled you closer to him by your sleeve. You felt your stomach swoop at the sudden breaking of the flimsy wall between you. Trying to not read too far into his action you glanced at his phone. He had pulled up the walking directions to a nearby thrift shop. 
The walk was not too long, and the two of you passed the time easily. Every so often Seokmin would point something out and tell you the Korean word for it, which in turn you would give him the English word.  His eyes were trained on you so attentively when you spoke it made you almost nervous. 
Rounding the corner you saw the store he was hoping to visit. You may have been here once or twice, but it’s nowhere you frequent. He pulled the door open and held it for you. You smiled at him as a thanks, which earned you a blinding smile in return. Lucky you. 
The two of you strayed away from each other, looking in different sections for a while. You swiped through the selection of shirts in your size, trying not to look around for Seokmin. The fabric in your hands didn’t feel real, you were distracted. You moved around to the rack of pants, which was closer to the set of stairs in the store which led to the music section upstairs. 
You continued to browse through the pants, not really interested. Movement near the stairs made you look up,  Seokmin was looking at the records hanging on the wall. He investigated them on his own for several moments, fully engrossed, before looking around for something, you hoped it was you he was looking for. As if he could read your mind his eyes settled on you from across the room, smiling, he called 
“Jagiya!” As soon as the word rolled off his tongue, his eyes widened and his hand flew to his mouth. He obviously was under the impression he said something he shouldn’t have, if only you knew what it meant, “y/n” he corrected himself after taking a moment to calm down. You left the rack of pants behind almost immediately, 
“Hmm?” you hummed once you were at his side on the stairs. Sleeves of your jackets brushing against each other. Seokmin pointed at the records on the wall, he was obviously excited. “Music lover, hm?” you smiled up at him. 
“Yes” he smiled back, eyes almost closed, “I’m a singer” he added. Seokmin wished you could see your face right now, you looked amazed at the confession, your lips forming a little ‘o’. 
“You’ll have to sing for me sometime” you said before remembering you had no idea how long you would be around each other. However, he just beamed and nodded at you. The two of you wandered around the music store upstairs for a while, Seokmin taking a particular interest in the selection of The Beatles vinyls. 
Watching him closely, you noted the ring he wore, the delicate way he moved through the records. Seokmin was so interesting to you, everything he did seemed to be with purpose, but he also seemed carefree at times. Again, you wished so desperately to be able to communicate with him easier. 
Eventually, you made it out of the store. The sun bit through the cold of the air and warmed your face. Closing your eyes you moved to face the sun and took a deep breath. You stayed here for several moments before hearing the click of Seokmin’s shutter again. Your eyes snapped open and toward him, his camera still raised, he watched you through the viewfinder again. 
“Hey!” you laughed, “Stop that” 
“You look happy” he replied simply, lowering his camera, looking at you fondly. There was nothing to do about the blush blooming across your cheeks, and you did nothing to hide it this time. He walked toward you and gestured down the street, “shall we walk?” he suggested. 
The walk was quiet, but again, comfortable. Seokmin switched what hand he was carrying his camera in, letting the hand closest to you drop to his side. Periodically, his knuckles brushed against yours, giving you the feeling of electricity running up your arm every time. The tension crackled between the two of you until Seokmin stopped in front of a restaurant, “Hungry?” he looked at you, tilting his head to the side, a gesture that reminded you so much of a puppy it was insane. 
“So hungry,” you agreed. Soon enough the two of you were seated at a booth that felt more like a couch. Comfortable silence fell between you as you looked over the menu, you eyed him a few times before he put his menu down. 
After your orders were placed Seokmin brought out his camera and began to look through his photos. Every so often he would tilt the screen so you could see, most of the shots he showed you were of you. Suddenly, his phone began to buzz incessantly. You watched as his eyebrows knit together in confusion and he picked up his phone to check it. 
“Ah” he sighed, and placed his phone face down back on the table, “My friend Soonyoung….” his eyes drifted around the restaurant, he was thinking of what to say next, “jagiya—“ he laughed and clutched the white knit beanie that sat on his head, “my English” 
“Talk to me in Korean,” you shrugged nonchalantly, “I won’t understand, but I’ll listen” you assured him. His eyes lit up, and he immediately began talking animatedly. You were amazed at the change in him once he was speaking comfortably. Watching him attentively you took in the way his hands accompanied his enthusiasm. 
You could tell, Seokmin was a person who was just full of love. Anyone lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that love was someone you were jealous of. You would do anything to sit in his light for as long as he would allow you. 
*** 
“My last day” Seokmin’s voice still laced with sleep mumbled through your phone. You don’t know what possessed him to call you this morning but you would never complain. 
“Today?” you asked, feeling a bit nervous, “do you have plans?” 
“Mhmm” he hummed, “Join me later?” you could feel your heart jump up into your throat at the question. 
“Of course” you mumbled trying to steady your voice. 
Seokmin (fish n chips guy) sent a location 
The sun setting overhead cast the street in watercolors of pinks and blues. Your eyes scanned through the throng of people all here to watch the sunset over the river. He caught your attention almost instantly, he was facing away from the river, arms propped up on the stone barrier, eyes closed enjoying the night air. 
As you approached you watched as the breeze caught his bangs and ruffled them. Before making your presence known you snapped a picture of him looking so serene. 
“Hey” you ventured, now right in front of him. His eyes cracked open, taking in your frame. Almost instantly his face was overtaken with a smile. 
“Hi” he replied. You moved to stand next to him, facing the river and he turned to look out with you. Both of you stood in quiet contemplation for several minutes. 
“You know,” you broke through the tension, “I haven’t been here in so long.” your eyes trained on the clock face of Big Ben across the water, “Somehow, you’ve reminded me of all the parts of my city I love” Seokmin shifted to face you, 
“I love the city,” you met his eyes, it felt as though he was trying to tell you something. 
“You leave tomorrow” you turned toward him, “is it weird if I say I’ll miss you?” Seokmin shook his head as the wind picked up. Once more, the breeze caught both of your hair. Seokmin moved to brush yours aside, searching your eyes to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. You were glued to your spot, you wouldn’t dare move. Finally you felt his slender fingers in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. 
You felt your breath hitch in your lungs as Seokmin’s fingers trailed down and he cupped your cheek with his hand. Absentmindedly, you melted into his touch. 
“I leave tomorrow” he sighed as he echoed your previous statement. His other hand found your other cheek and his thumb brushed against it softly. The both of you stood frozen for a moment, neither of you wanting to break the spell. 
Suddenly, Seokmin was leaning down toward you, and you felt his soft lips brush yours. The kiss was quick, but full of meaning. It seemed like he was communicating all the things he had wanted to say over the last few days that he couldn’t find the words for.
288 notes · View notes
seuonji · 3 months
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彡 the things he’s whispered loudly ー lee seokmin
๑ goody two shoes yn au!
notes ๑ madly in love x stupid and innocent.
genre ๑ fluff
warnings ๑ yn’s portrayed as more innocent here!!
word count ๑ 0.7k
from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3
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you knew lee seokmin really well like, on a personal level. which was weird because you two are from completely different worlds. he liked causing trouble for fun while you were the one in charge of stopping that trouble. yet you knew how many moles he had on his face, you knew his favourite colour, you knew why he’s always late to class, you knew so much courtesy of him always being in the damn student council room.
“now, why are you here?” you tilted your head as you walked into the student council room. as you walked in, you saw a familiar figure sitting on the couch. it was only his back facing you yet you still recognised him.
“yn!!” he beamed as he turned around.
“you didn’t get into trouble didn’t you?” you furrowed you’re brows as you closed the door behind you.
he dramatically gasped and stood up, walking behind you to your desk, “i wouldn’t break our promise.”
recently, you two have gotten closer after sharing certain personal things. seokmin asked if you would consider him a friend and you answered yes. he was touched and as a friend, you asked him for a favour. a favour to lessen his troublesome acts and so far he’s been keeping his promise well.
since then he hasn’t really had a reason to be around you yet, he still followed you around the school like a dog.
“how are you today?” you nonchalantly asked. you never really shooed him away, ever for as long as you’ve known him and actually, you quite liked his company.
“i’m good! how about you?” he bent down to your face level as you were sitting on your desk chair.
“mm i’m okay, just hoping to get this work done soon. do you have any extra curriculars today?”
“not at all, i’m actually free today,” he sat down beside you.
“that’s nice,” you hummed.
your eyes were on your paperwork the whole time while his were on you. and he’d been waiting for you to look at him yet you didn’t.
“are you free today yn?” he broke the silence.
“i should be after i finish this…why?” you reluctantly replied.
“great so afterwards we can go out!” he stood up with a wide smile.
you organised your papers and your head flicked, “what? where?”
“on a date?” he chuckled and he spoke with confidence.
“isn’t that what people that like each other do?” you quietly asked. it showed your uncertainty and suddenly, he got the hint you probably didn’t have experience with this sort of thing.
he pursed his lips and sat by you again, “well…i like you?”
“since when?”
“i told you i like you like last week!” he furrowed his brows and looked at you confused.
he did actually. and you remember it all. but he said it out of nowhere when you two went your own way afterschool, “i like you yn,” he whispered with a chuckle as he walked away. you took it as ‘friends’ but now you’ve realised, perhaps it wasn’t that way.
“you meant it?” you dropped your pen and turned your body towards him, showing your curiosity in the conversation.
“obviously i did?” he squinted his eyes but quickly tried to remain calm and gave you the benefit of the doubt.
“…what now?” you stuttered. this must’ve been the first time he’s ever seen you flustered.
“do you want to go on the date?” he asked with a puzzled tone.
“uhm. i’ve never been on one,” you answered embarrassed.
“it’s okay, you don’t need to have been on one, let’s just have fun?” he was at your face level and was weirdly close but his words were convincing.
“oh, okay,” you sweetly nodded and reverted your eyes to your paper work.
“oh really? okay,” he grinned.
he sat there looking at you until you finished your paper work. his heart was beating at an unhealthy rate but he’s glad he finds his weeks of planning for your ‘date’ worth it.
and he never realised just how innocent you were, let alone you being shy over a date but one things for sure, he’ll never let anyone take that away from you.
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191 notes · View notes
miraclewoozi · 11 months
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UNDER THE COLLAR. -l.sm
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your unlucky-in-love best friend goes on a date with someone who, by all accounts, should be his perfect person. so... how exactly do you end up being the one who tucks his sorry, drunk ass into bed?
pairing; lee seokmin x gn!reader.  (he calls reader pretty once but that is all<3) content; fluff / some mild angst towards the middle / pining / friends to… still friends but with some ~tension~ and a snuggle? w/c; 4.6k and a smidge. warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption (offscreen), drunkenness, some suggestiveness (MINORS DNI), reader has some hard thoughts, a bit of affectionate touching but nothing deliberately sexual? seok is needy and cuddly (and a terrible flirt). let me know if i've forgotten anything! note; this was originally gonna be part of a mini-series/multi-chap situation but!! i ended up hating the full thing and only being attached to like. two parts of it lol so here we are! there could potentially be a second part to this? if people want it? i don’t know yet! but this kinda just works as it’s own standalone thing anyway i think~ happy sunday <3
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The first text comes through just after you finally set your phone down on the bedside table. Your eyes are dry and have started to sting from a long evening staring at screens, your bones feel impossibly heavy, and you think maybe you’re settling down for a semi-decent night’s sleep when you hear the buzz of a notification. A buzz you initially plan to ignore. It can’t be anything that important: who would be trying to reach you at this time of night, anyway? 
You roll away from the device and snuggle down into your pillows, pulling the sleeves of your — his — jumper down over your palms and resting them just in front of your face. This particular garment stopped smelling like Seokmin after the second time it went through your washing machine, but there’s a familiarity in the slightly rough inner lining that makes you want to wear it to sleep in every night, forever. He never liked it when his hoodies were too new, too soft, leaving balls of fluff all over his t-shirts and vests; you don’t know when you started to feel the same way, but you’ve realised recently that you do.
Your eyes flutter closed and your body relaxes, head starting to feel fuzzy in that calm, white-noise, lovely way. You haven’t felt this tired and genuinely sleepy for… months. It’s bliss. 
And then your phone buzzes again. You squeeze your eyes tighter, determined not to lose this warm, comfortable feeling, but your phone vibrates and vibrates and vibrates and with an audible groan, you sit back up, reaching over to see what, exactly, is so damn important at 02:23 in the fucking morning.
Seokmin’s contact name flashes up on the lock screen and you see that there are seven unread messages from him in the space of the last 3 minutes. Instantly, your brows draw together: he’s seldom shied away from a double text, but you’ve never known him to pull a septuple, and you can’t feel but feel a little bit of dread in your stomach as you read through them. 
> seokmin: yn
> seokmin: ynnnnnn
> seokmin: i lied
> seokmin: i didmt go homr yet
> seokmin: can you come get mr
> seokmin: mr
> seokmin: m e
You shoot back a message instantly asking where he is, turning on your bedside lamp and already swinging your legs out from under the covers. You keep hold of your phone in one hand, waiting for it to buzz again to tell you he’s given you his location. With the other, you search for and pull on some sweatpants, sliding into a pair of sneakers. His replies come simultaneously too quickly, and entirely not fast enough.
> seokmin: u knkw the bar in town with the bear statiiue oitside
> seokmin: lol
> seokmin: do you think i ciuld beat thsi bear in s fight???
> y/n: christ. okay, wait inside for me. i’ll be there in 15. 
> y/n: also, no. you couldn’t. x
Your veins feel alive with adrenaline and worry as you grab your keys and head down the stairs to your car. The drive is quiet — you don’t even waste the few seconds it would take to plug into the AUX and pick a playlist, leaving it up to the radio to keep you company on the way. It doesn’t take too long: soon enough, you’re pulling up alongside the infamous bear statue to find your best friend sitting on the curb, propped up against the marble base.
“I thought I told you to wait inside?” you chide, rolling down the passenger side window so you can announce your arrival. It’s like he’s moving in slow-motion, or maybe your words just take an extra few seconds to reach him? Either way, he doesn’t lift his head until a silence has settled between you, and he doesn’t smile until his slightly glazed-over eyes land on your face.
“Y/n!” He cheers, lifting himself off the floor and staggering upright, pushing a hand through his hair. “Hi! Yeah, I know — but look, it was too hot in there. It was so hot. And I didn’t want you to wait-…” Hiccup. “To have to wait for me.” 
He slides into the passenger seat with a contented sigh, a mess of long limbs he can’t quite control, adjusting the vent in front of him so that the cold from your air-con breezes against his flushed cheeks. As he settles, you reach over him, pulling his seatbelt across his chest. 
“I was getting to that,” he whines, pouting his pretty lips at you, and you click the belt in place with a laugh. History tells you that when he’s drunk, Seokmin doesn’t always believe in the power of the seatbelt, among other things, so you think maybe you could be forgiven for not believing him this time.
“Okay, dumbass. Sure you were.”
He reaches down into the passenger footwell for your AUX cord, bumping his head on the dashboard and letting out an exaggerated hiss as he sits back upright. Nonetheless, he plugs his phone in and presses play on his own night-driving playlist, holding the device between both of his hands as you start off towards his place.
“So…” you prompt, because he’s staring blankly out the windscreen with a tiny smile on his lips and you’re concerned that maybe, this time, he has actually managed to drink himself stupid. He rolls his head over to look at you, and fond bliss is written into every line of his face. “What happened?”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, still just… staring at you as you drive. Staring, even though every detail of you is committed to his memory already. Staring, even though he knows how your eyelashes flutter when you blink. Even though he knows how the muscles in your throat bob as you swallow the saliva on your tongue. Even though he’s sat in your passenger seat enough times to remember exactly how the late-night glow of the street-lamps overhead catch and illuminate the curve of your nose, how they highlight the point of your chin. He knows all this, but he can’t help himself. Staring is… indulgent. So, so indulgent. But he is pretty drunk and he can get away with it when you’re focused on the road — at least, that’s what he tells himself.  
When he does attempt to speak, just as you slow to a stop at a set of traffic lights, the sparkle in his gaze falters. He faces forward again, shoulders rising and slumping in a meek ‘I don’t know’.
“She was… perfect, I think,” he tries to explain, and you glance across to look at him; his lips are both non-existent, pulled between his teeth and he has worry lines creasing up his forehead. With the hand not holding the wheel, you reach over, pressing your fingertips to where his eyebrows have scrunched to try and get him to relax the muscles there. It sort of works, if only because he releases an involuntary breath of a laugh.
“Not perfect,” you gasp, dramatic and teasing even though it stings a little to hear him say that out loud. “I mean, that definitely explains why you were out drinking, alone, three hours after you told me you were heading home.” He turns his head fully away from you, now, letting your hand drop dangerously towards his lap. You pull it back to yourself before it collides with his jeans, clearing your throat. The traffic signal changes to green, and you drive ahead. “I’m kidding. Come on. Talk to me.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, despondent, crossing his arms over his chest. You’re not sure you’ve seen him acting like this since you were teenagers. It’s a strange twist away from your usual, very easy-going banter.
“Seok...” You try again. “I won’t stop for nuggets if you don’t tell me.” 
“Don’t stop, then.”
“Seokmin…”
“Don’t-…” It comes out quickly, the vein in the side of his neck popping until he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly. “Y/n. I’m tired, I just-… I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you please just… take me home?”
He’s still struggling with his words, but he isn’t abrasive in the way he speaks; that’s something you learned about Seokmin very early on in your friendship. He doesn’t raise his voice at you. He doesn’t get deep and gravelly when he’s pissed off. He just… seems to let himself feel things super intensely for a few seconds at a time and then he short-circuits, goes flat. It might be convenient for him, but it gets frustrating for you. Especially when he encourages you to open up to him as much as he does. 
His head is bowed and cradled in his hands when you pull up outside his apartment block, and you unfasten his seatbelt for him which jolts him upright. You stay facing front, though, guilt coursing through your veins at the thought of maybe having pushed him too far. You just want to understand. Why was his date being good such a bad thing?
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” 
You shake your head. “Don’t be,” you tell him, and he scoffs, but quietly.
“Y/n,” he sighs, his crown falling against the headrest; he reaches over to you, places a hand just above your knee, and you try to ignore how it feels like someone has crashed their car into you from behind. How your heart lurches forwards in your chest. How your adrenaline spikes.
“I mean it. I shouldn’t have kept pushing. I’m sorry.”
He chews this over for a moment, but he doesn’t remove his hand, and you find that maybe you don’t want him to. Not yet, at least.
“Will you help me get up the stairs?”
“Of course I will.”
With one of his arms over your shoulders, your own supporting his waist, the pair of you begin the obnoxiously long ascent up through his building to his apartment. He’s lived here for a year and a half, and you think maybe the elevator has been working… for a total of about a week, since then? God forbid he ever got injured and couldn’t climb six flights just to get himself home. The climb is bad enough as is.
Somewhere around landing number four, Seokmin pulls away from you, mumbling something about having the spins and needing to sit down. You ease him to perch on one of the windowsills, sitting down next to him with your arm still around his hips to keep him balanced on the narrow ledge.
“You should’ve taken me back to your place,” he grumbles, doubling over with his elbows against his knees and his fingers linked behind his neck, taking deep breaths.
“Get your feet flat on the floor. Look at your shoelaces. Breathe slow. It’ll help,” you coo, and he shuffles a little so that he can do exactly that (not without wobbling and almost landing on his face, and he thanks you and your “super strong arms” for keeping him from such a fate). After a few more seconds of deep breathing and grounding, he lifts his head. Crisis averted.
“Are you-… like, a witch, or something?” he asks out of nowhere, and you snort so loudly that your throat hurts. He keeps staring at you, waiting for you to answer. Apparently your laugh wasn’t response enough.
“What are you talking about, Seok?” 
He rolls his eyes at you, as if you should just know. “How did you know how to fix me? It’s like magic.”
“Because I know you, stupid. Come on. Two more flights and I’ll get you into bed.”
“S’that a promise?” he asks, grinning to himself as you haul him back to standing, and he stumbles slightly against you, hands braced on your ribs. Sweating a little, you manoeuvre yourself away from him, landing a gentle, playful hit to his side. 
It doesn’t make your heart flutter, hearing what can only be a drunk rendition of his bedroom voice. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.
“Save it for your next date with Ms. Perfect, would you?”
“Agh. You’re the worst.”
“I know. Now come on.”
After a few minutes of fumbling through Seokmin’s pockets yourself for his keys (it’s as if he’s forgotten how both hands and pockets work in his now very giggly stupor), apparently brushing every single one of his ticklish spots on the way, you’re inside his apartment and on your knees, untying his shoes for him, easing them off his feet. You don’t think he can be trusted to lean down to do it on his own without breaking something.
Or himself.
“If you go get ready for bed, I’ll bring you some water?” you suggest, sitting back on your heels, smiling up at him. There’s a weight in the gaze he’s looking down at you with, in the way his tongue darts out over his lips, and how his mouth doesn’t fully close after. You tell yourself he’s definitely only looking at you like this because he’s drunk, because you’re helping him — the boy doesn’t know ass from elbow, right now — but there’s no escaping the fact that your stomach drops a little at his intensity.
“Okay,” he strains after a moment, and you stand up and away from him, kicking off your own shoes. He heads in one direction towards his bedroom, and you move in the other towards his kitchen. 
Stop it, you tell yourself, leaning over the sink and splashing cold water from the faucet onto your face. Stop thinking about him like that. He’s your best friend. Stop it.
But… shit, you can’t get those big brown eyes out of your head. The way he looked down at you, the softness of his brows, the heat radiating off him. There’s nothing you can do to stop the way your thighs press together standing in his kitchen, in clothes that— you realise now— are entirely his. The hoodie. The sweatpants you pulled on. They’re an old pair that he let you steal just after your most recent breakup, when you’d stayed on his couch for a week straight just so you didn’t have to look at how ugly and empty your own apartment was. Everything. Even down to the socks.
You thought it was hard enough hearing that he was going out for dinner to your favourite restaurant with someone who wasn’t you; nothing could have prepared you for standing in his kitchen at three in the morning, hot under the collar over five seconds of tipsy eye contact, knowing he’s getting undressed behind the door you’ve been staring at for… minutes, now. Actual minutes. 
Oh, you think, feeling your blood run cold. 
Oh. 
I want him.
More minutes pass as you stew in this information — in the knowledge that you’re fucking desperate for the man who has been there for you through everything important enough to remember, and probably everything you’ve forgotten, too. The boy who took you to all of your school dances and was the perfect date, the perfect gentleman, the perfect partner. The man who has sat next to you in the doctor’s waiting room more times than you can count, waiting for results and sitting outside appointments that he told you that you were brave enough to book. Seokmin, who has been under your nose this entire fucking time — you want him, the man who went for dinner with his dream woman, today, and he said she was perfect. Acid burns the back of your throat as you fight not to run all the way back down to your car.
Fuck. It gets astronomically worse. I love him.
“Y/n?” you hear, and his whiny, gentle voice glides across the apartment like it’s been mounted on a cloud, blown straight into your ears. It floats around in your brain in the most beautiful way, and you think there could be love-hearts in the reflections on your eyes even despite the stress you’re now under. It occurs to you that his faucet is still running, and you still have two empty glasses sitting on the counter. How long has it been? Get it together. 
“Just a second,” you call back. Your voice breaks as you say it and you can hear him fucking giggle from behind the ajar door to his bedroom. The fluttering in your stomach worsens, and by the time you’ve shut off the tap and you’re walking through to him, you’re wondering if it’s possible for people to grow butterfly gardens inside themselves without noticing. No-one has ever made you feel this nervous, before. 
Breathe, you tell yourself as he comes into view, already snuggled down against his pillows with the top of his bare chest and shoulders visible in the low light. 
Fuck. 
This is the last thing you needed.
“Hi,” he greets you, pushing to sit up with eyes softer than the glow of the setting sun. “I missed you.” 
You stand corrected. That is. 
“You’re such a loser.”
You set his glass down on his bedside and crouch next to him. “Did you brush your teeth?” you ask, and his face transforms from a stupid childish pout at being teased to a devastatingly bright grin. 
This running joke you’ve shared between yourselves since your first night on the town together illuminates him, and he nods, proudly, his hair falling down over his face. You reach up to push a few strands away from his eyes, despite yourself.
“Sure did,” he tells you, and you believe him but you raise a brow anyway. He’s so pretty. With his playful smile, tongue held between his teeth, his nose a little scrunched. Fuck, how can anyone be so pretty?
“So if I go check your toothbrush, right now…” His smile turns into a laugh, his head lifts into your lingering touch until his cheek is fully rested in the palm of your hand. Stupidly, you tell yourself that this could mean something. Maybe he wants to feel you more.  
“You could find out another way,” he says, his voice dropping half an octave as his already heavy eyelids blink slowly at you. It’s a good thing you’re already on your knees because that tone could have you sinking to the ground in a split. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth fleetingly and you think you’re one more line away from melting into the floorboards. 
“You’re so out of it,” you murmur, shaking your head at him. “Did she make you get the oysters? Are you high on aphrodisiacs right now?”
He groans again and rolls onto his back, a hand dramatically coming up to cover his eyes. 
“Stop talking about her,” he whines. “I’m with you. I don’t wanna talk— I don’t wanna think about her right now.”
“Seokmin-…”
“Y/n,” he interrupts, lolling his head to the side, looking at you through impossibly long, dark lashes from between his fingers. “Please.”
You’re not sure what the pull in his voice is in aid of but you force yourself to let it go, pushing yourself up to your feet before you can fall forwards into him.
“I’m gonna head home,” you say, the quiet between you laying thick and heavy against your skin. “Text me when you’re awake tomorrow, okay?”
He contemplates this for a second, frowning; he doesn’t say anything as you start backing towards his bedroom door. Then…
“Please don’t.”
He says it so quietly. So hushed, you think you might have misheard. So delicate, you hold your breath just in case you somehow manage to shatter the moment. 
“Don’t what?” You ask, stopping in your tracks. He breathes deep and props up on one elbow, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Don’t go.”
Glued to the spot, you stare at him. You feel your head tilt to the side without really controlling it, and an eyebrow creeps up your forehead, slowly. 
“I left some lights on in my apartment,” you say feebly, and even though it’s true, a selfish part of you hopes that he’ll still keep trying to talk you around. It won’t take a lot to convince you. It never does. 
“So?” he asks, the duvet slipping just a little further down his upper half, baring more of his chest to you. “Please. I don’t want to be-…”
You swallow, waiting. The cogs in his inebriated brain are surely rotating at a few hundred miles a minute, his eyes almost desperate. Certainly glossy. Absolutely breath-taking.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Your already fragile resolve snaps under the pressure of his words and you’re moving towards his bed before you can stop yourself. 
“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” you say, offering him one last out if he wants it, but Seokmin just shrugs and peels the duvet back for you to slip in beside him.
“Don’t care,” he mumbles, and you gesture for him to look away so, at the very least, you can shimmy out of his sweatpants. He does, and you do — a few seconds later, with the garment in question folded neatly on the floor by his bed, you’re pulling the sheets over your legs and burying down against his cushions.
His breathing matches yours inhale for exhale and the more you let yourself think about this, the worse you feel even though maybe you shouldn’t. How many times have you drunkenly shared Seokmin’s bed, or how many times has he shared yours? This isn’t new. Even sober, you’ve been curling up together on the couch to watch movies and sleeping with your heads in each other's laps for years. There’s no reason for the guilt that’s burrowing its way deep into your brain, but you can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard you try.
“Y/n?” he asks after a few minutes of you lying stiff as a pair of boards, a few inches of cold mattress between your wide awake selves, both of you staring up at the ceiling. You hum an acknowledgement, and he clears his throat. “Can I hug you?”
Your heart does something you’re a little bit afraid of, but you nod in the dark anyway, before you realise he can’t really see you now all the lights are off.
“Drink some water first,” you tell him lightly. “Then you can.”
There’s something undeniably nerve-wracking about the sound of him obediently swallowing a few mouthfuls from the glass you brought him earlier, even more-so in the way he sets it back down on his dresser. The bed rustles a little as he moves towards you, the sheets shifting over your bare legs, and then he’s got an arm slung over your waist, his head is on the very edge of his pillow, right next to your own… he slides a leg over one of yours, slotting it between your calves, and before you know it, you’re completely wrapped up in him.
He’s warm, and soft, and his fingertips gently soothe circles into your waist where they’ve slipped just underneath the hem of the sweatshirt you’re still wearing. You hum gently, moving your arm so that it snakes beneath his neck, curling up to wrap around his shoulders. This close, you can smell the cologne he will have put on before meeting his date. It makes you dizzy, slows down the neurons firing away in your brain. You wonder what’s going through his own head — what he’s thinking about, being curled up against your side like this. Does he recognise the slight stuttering in your breathing? How cold you are in contrast to him? Will he even remember this, in the morning? Or will you just wake up on opposite sides of the bed tomorrow, all this just a weird, foggy memory in the dark?
His head burrows slightly closer to you and all of a sudden, you can feel him breathing. Every exhale fans against your neck, right where it feels sweetest; Seokmin breathes through his nose when he’s sober, but through his lips when he’s drunk. You’ve never noticed before. It’s maddening. 
“Comfy?” you ask, your voice dry and unsure, and he wriggles a little with a nod to affirm that yes, he is. Something about that makes your cheeks go hot.
“Always sleep better with you,” he murmurs, and your face grows even warmer. You tell yourself he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just drunk. It doesn’t help.
“Then sleep,” you say as his hand moves just slightly further up beneath the hoodie, the tips of his fingers gently tickling your lowest rib. You have to fight back a whine. “I’m here. You can sleep.”
“Thank you, y/n,” he breathes, and you turn your head: now your eyes have adjusted to the low light, you can sort of make out his features, so very close to you. This proves to be a mistake almost instantly, but you can’t look away. His eyes are closed now; you’re glad. He looks too sweet. Too peaceful.
“What for?”
“Everything.”
“Seokmin…”
“No, I mean — everything.”
You move your hand up slightly, fingers playing with the strands of his hair at the top of his neck, and he whimpers softly at the touch. You freeze, and he nuzzles back against your hand to beg you to keep going, so you do.
“You can’t thank me for everything,” you tease him, and he chuckles breathlessly, his palm now laying flat across your rib cage, curling around your side. Holding you. Claiming you, just for now.
“Can,” he protests, and you shake your head. 
“Nuh-uh. Against the rules.”
“What rules?”
“My rules.”
“I didn’t know you had rules.”
“I’ve got hundreds,” you tease, threading your fingers through his strands and gently massaging his scalp. Another whine from him, but you don’t stop. Especially not when he hugs you closer, arm and leg both tightening around you.
“Hundreds?”
“Mhm. Maybe even thousands.”
“Well. Fuck.”
You breathe a laugh at him, and he laughs back; within a few seconds, you’ve both dissolved into giggles, and Seokmin has squirmed even closer until he’s half-covering you, actively chortling into your covered collarbone.
“You’re s’posed to be getting to sleep,” you sigh as his own laughter picks back up following a few seconds of deep breathing and quiet.
“I can’t!” He says. You can feel the pout in his own voice, even with his face hidden. When did he end up practically on top of you? When did your arm slip down to around his waist? 
“You have to. You’re gonna feel so shitty tomorrow if you don’t.”
“I know. M’probably gonna feel shitty anyway, though.”
“Come on. Close your eyes. Count back from a hundred. You can do it.”
It falls silent again, and you delusionally tell yourself that maybe it’s working. Until…
“Can you lie on your side?” He asks, and you sigh dramatically but nod anyway: as he peels himself off you, you roll over, facing the wall in the foetal position. He’s right back against you in a blink though, legs tucked up behind yours, trying to find your hand under the quilt.
“S’this okay?” He asks as he accidentally brushes your thigh in his search, fingers lacing through your own when he finally succeeds. Your now joined hands work their way into the hoodie’s front pocket, and everything starts buzzing when he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Y-yeah,” you swallow. “S’good.”
“Good,” he mumbles. A few deep breaths later, his voice rumbles against your earlobe again. “You looked so pretty for me tonight, y/n. Dressed up in my clothes — you’re so pretty.”
“Go to sleep,” you whimper, grateful at least that at this angle that he doesn’t see how your face scrunches up, how wide your smile is, how ridiculously good he makes you feel.
Euphoria. This is euphoria; you never want it to end.
“Count for me,” he asks, dropping his head down so his brows rest against your back, now. So you do.
“A hundred… ninety nine… ninety eight… ninety seven…”
His breathing is slow and his grip on your hand is slack by the time you reach eighty three. You doze off too, not very far behind.
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thank u for reading all the way to the end!! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always appreciated<3
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sluttywoozi · 10 months
Text
Technical Difficulties | lsk x reader
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Seokmin's computer breaking shouldn't make him as happy as it does, but who can blame him when his favorite IT person always comes to the rescue?
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.1k
Warnings: suggestive, implied size kink, implied semipublic sex, seokmin thinks ur an angel, i don't know anything about computers
Reader Notes: hands are smaller than seokmin's
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Seokmin sits back in his chair and beams at the blue computer screen in front of him. It’s covered in error messages and lines of code he doesn’t understand, and for once, he’s pretty sure it’s not his fault. It also means he’ll get to see his favorite person in the office: you.
You work in IT and you’re usually the one they send to help him because the others tend to lose their patience. He asks a lot of questions and can sometimes forget about respecting personal space, but you never get angry with him. You explain what you’re doing as you do it, and you always have an answer for his questions. If you don’t, you look it up later and email him. His computer has been breaking less and less because of your tips, and he’s even excited to come into work just on the off chance he’ll see you.
Today must be his lucky day, because you’re already knocking on his door.
“Come in!” He calls out, a smile obvious in his voice and unmistakable on his face. You push the door open and poke in your head, greeting him with a grin of your own as you enter his office and take the chair he gives up for you.
You look beautiful with your bright eyes and compact case of tools, and your ability to multitask is always impressive to him, your fingers typing away at the laptop you plugged into his computer even as you keep up an engaging conversation with him.
Seokmin loves to watch you work, and his eyes are especially drawn to your hands. He thinks a lot about them; everything he’s seen them do, and everything he’d like to see them do. He thinks about how much longer his fingers are than yours, and how if he bent you over his desk and put his hands on top of them, they would be completely covered.
He doesn’t think about you like this on purpose, per se, but he also doesn’t exactly try to push the thoughts from his mind when they appear. They’re like a little treat he gets to have throughout the day, a wonderful break from the monotony of office work, and if they also happen to make his crush on you even stronger, he’s not going to complain.
“Hm, I think I’ll have to get into the tower itself. Can I take this back to my office? I have a spare you can use in the meantime.”
Your voice makes him jump, and Seokmin realizes with a guilty heart that he was thinking these thoughts with you present. He’s used to indulging in them alone and behind a closed door (not like that (okay once)), but he usually at least makes an attempt to keep his mind out of the gutter when you’re around. Partly because his poker face is nonexistent, mostly because he already gets a little bit turned on when your attention is devoted to him.
The most he can manage in his current state is a nod. He’s positive his expression betrays everything, and if his worst fears have come true, his dick might even be pressing against his slacks.
“Can you show me to the supply closet on this floor? I want to take the computer on a cart so I don’t damage anything further.”
Seokmin hums in affirmation and turns on his heel, snagging his suit jacket off the hanger to hold in front of his hips just in case. There’s a closet just down the hall, but he’s pretty sure it’s not big enough to hold a cart. He’ll have to take you to the one by the stairwell; if he’s remembering correctly, there’s something roll-y and large in there - he’d banged his hip on it last week looking for a staple remover.
It’s a bit more out of the way, and Seokmin can’t stop his heart from racing as he leads you down the hall. He’s not sure why, but he’s feeling more and more nervous the closer he gets to the closet, like there’s something waiting for him there.
The door comes into view and he jerks it open for you, the resistance of disuse making him pull harder than he expected would be required. You enter first, your hand roving over the wall as you look for the lightswitch. Seokmin knows where it is, but from experience, he also knows it doesn’t work. He flicks it up and down a few times, just to be sure, and you must register what the sound means because you heave a sigh and get out your phone flashlight.
The cart appears immediately, the bruise on Seokmin’s hip throbbing angrily as he glares at the offending piece of office equipment.
“Perfect,” You breathe, placing your phone face down on the surface so the small room is illuminated in icy white light. “Now, let’s discuss why your crush on me is such a poorly kept secret. You know your assistant, Chan, told me about it?”
Seokmin’s heart jumps out of his rib cage into his throat, sirens sounding in his ears as he processes your words. He thinks about trying to laugh it off, but he knows his face will look too pained. There’s no point in denying it either, not when Chan told you in such clear terms. He has no choice but to admit it, apologize, and hope you won’t report him to HR.
“I’m really sorry, I guess I’m not exactly good at hiding it. I don’t tell people, but they might be able to figure it out on their own,” he sounds so terribly guilt-ridden, it’s a miracle he’s not already on his knees.
His mind flashes back to when his computer last crashed. He’d flown out of his office in search of gum and words of affirmation, and Chan had supplied him with both. Seokmin supposes he should have thought more about why Chan knew exactly what kind of affirmation he needed.
“Seokmin, I’m not upset with you, I just wish I’d known. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.”
“Lost time? What do you mean?”
“I mean, I like you back. And there’s a lot we could get up to in this very hidden, very untouched supply closet.”
You raise a brow, your eyes darting over to the empty workbench on the side wall. It’s the perfect surface for many things, things like kissing you and maybe getting his hands on your soft skin and perhaps sliding his fingers between your plush thighs and, if he’s really lucky, possibly feeling your perfect walls wrapped around him.
Seokmin has a feeling he’s going to be experiencing many more technical difficulties in the future.
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AN: posted first on my patreon! written for one of my patrons as a wooahae tier benefit 💖
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lovelywoos · 9 months
Text
my life, my seasons (teaser) | l.sm
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genre: strangers to lovers, small town au, grumpy x sunshine; fluff, angst, comedy
↳ hometown cha cha cha x once upon a small town x summer strike inspired
pairings: gn!reader x lee seokmin, librarian!reader x handyman!seokmin
description: you're stuck in jeju for the summer having to run your grandma's library when you should be on vacation. things could not get worse. good thing lee seokmin, the man who you run into almost everyday, is there to make your summer a bit better.
word count estimation: 13k??
a/n - yes, dokyeom is inspired by hong dusik and yes, i love small town kdramas. anyways, please be patient as i hurriedly work on finishing and posting the final fic :') . comment or ask to be added to the tag list!
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seokmin thinks he likes you.
he saw you practically every day. from then on, he wondered if he would ever have a bad day again as long as he saw you.
first, it was when he realized you would remember everything he said, all the small things, which was crazy because you couldn’t even remember what you had for dinner the day before.
it was a late night at the library. he had just finished tutoring his last student and you were closing the library.
seokmin had asked if you were hungry and you said no, only for you to be interrupted by the grumbling of your stomach saying otherwise. then that led to seokmin teasing you and you punching his shoulder, telling him to shut up.
so, he had ordered takeout to be delivered to the library for the both of you.
he had laid out all the side dishes for you as you unboxed the main dishes.
when you both finally sat down to eat, he has grabbed your chopsticks and split them for you, making you shy and then kick his foot gently under the table for mentioning your reaction.
what made him blush though was when he noticed you moved the dish of sliced cucumbers closer to you.
when he gave you a questioning look, you just shrugged, without even looking at him as you dug into the food, “you said you hate cucumbers.”
but it was definitely the time you were there for him when he felt the loneliest.
it was when mrs. park, the chinese restaurant owner, was a vendor at the summer festival in the next town over. she had called him when he happened to be with you.
the moment he ended the call and a cloudy look filled his eyes, you immediately picked up on it and asked what was wrong.
his words were brief. all he said was that mrs. park needed his help during a festival, but he declined, and mrs. park was not pleased.
you knew him well. you knew he hated disappointed the townspeople since it was his only job to fix their problems. but you also knew his trauma with crowded places, not that he knew you knew at the time.
so imagine his surprise when mrs. park texted him a blurry selfie the day of the festival and in that selfie was a beaming mrs. park and you in the background wearing an apron and hairnet with a dead look on your face.
“thank you for sending y/n in your place instead! she’s grumpy but a great worker!” she had texted.
seokmin had never asked you to go in his place.
a couple hours when he assumed you’d be home, he immediately called you.
“why’d you go in my place, y/n? i know you probably hated it the whole time,” he whined into the phone.
you laughed. and it comforted his soul. “why didn’t you tell me your fear of crowded places was real?”
his silence makes you sigh. “that day at the chinese restaurant with my friends, i accidentally overheard you and mrs. park talking about it. i didn’t mean to eavesdrop, i’m really sorry. and don’t feel bad for not doing something that you can’t do. it’s not your fault. if anything, let me do it.”
seokmin knows he likes you and he likes you so much that he doesn't know what to do about it.
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gyu-effect · 4 months
Note
Mingyu/dk x jaehyun younger sister reader? Idk I was reading jaehyun's kprofile and found dk's statement of being scared to talk to him cause he was too handsome so funny. Like baby you're handsome too 😭 but then I was also thinking it would be kinda interesting with mingyu since they're all part of the 97 liners. But idk - please only do this request if it's interesting
PAIRING || Seokmin x Female Reader
GENRES || Fluff, Humour
WARNINGS || i'm really sorry but reader is korean or half korean....or just assume for some reason jae and she has similar noses.
WORD COUNT || 1.2k
A/N || OH I SO LOVED LOVED THIS REQUEST it was hilarious and super fun to write BECAUSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE SCARED OF BREAD MAN???
TAGLIST || ​@romeosbreastmilk @y00nzin0 @cecedrake2217 @candidupped @ashkuuuu @hanicore @alyssng @weebotakuboy @angelfeverdream @aaniag @sea-moon-star @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @mnstxmnbb [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]
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[10:14]
“hi my love.”  
your boyfriend’s adorable smile greeted you as you opened the door of your apartment, feeling the familiar warmth rush to your cheeks as you smiled back at him. 
“hi, seok.” you whispered breathily as you stepped aside to let him in. stepping into the house, seokmin handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers and a small paper bag. “what’s this?”
“just a small something for the prettiest girl in the world.” he said, smiling even more brightly at you and you could feel your knees turning jelly with giddiness. just how had you become so lucky to end up with the sweetest man on earth as your boyfriend?
“oh, you didn’t have to!” you said, reaching out to hold his hand, which he gave it to you readily. taking a step closer to you, seokmin quickly captured your lips in his, his other arm snaking around your waist so that you didn’t lose your balance.
you could feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest, threatening to burst as he moved his soft lips against yours. 
“i had to, baby.” he whispered against your lips, causing you to giggle. “your expression was so beautiful, so priceless, i just had to get these for you.”
“oh god, i love you so much lee seokmin.” you whispered, pressing another kiss to his cheek before pulling him into the living room. 
“so your family went out?” seokmin asked, as he shrugged off his jacket and sat down on the sofa. you followed his suite and sat down right next to him, interlinking your arm with his as you nodded. “yeah, but my brother will be back in a while.” 
“your brother is in my year, isn’t he?” seokmin asked and you nodded again. he smiled at you sheepishly before saying, “oh that reminds me, something happened today.”
you felt yourself smiling even before he began telling you about the incident, knowing that since it was seokmin, he was going to make it funny even if it actually wasn’t. 
“what happened?”
“so, there’s this guy in my year…and he’s really…handsome, you know.” 
“handsome?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the way seokmin was looking so nervous. just what had this ‘handsome’ guy done to you boyfriend?
“yeah. he’s really handsome. and so intimidating. i mean, he hasn’t done anything to me and yet i feel like shrinking away in his presence. so today uh, he asked me for my maths notes. and you know what i did? i pretended not to hear and ran away.” he groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 
you patted his hand gently. it was rare to see seokmin this flustered so you felt bad for him that someone had scared him this much. “come on, seok. that’s fine! i’m sure you can go talk to him tomorrow and say that it was a misunderstanding. and besides, you’re so handsome too! i bet he can’t be more handsome than you. and also, you’re such a talented singer. and so, so sweet. sometimes i think you’re an angel in human disguise.”
seokmin pouted at your sweet words, causing you to laugh. you pressed a quick kiss onto his pout, and soon it was replaced by that beautiful smile you always loved.
“actually,” he began again, “i think he sings too. he’s really popular. you should see the number of girls trying to hit on him everyday.”
“good thing the girls are distracted by his ugly face. they won’t try to hit on my beloved boyfriend though i am upset that they don’t recognise your looks and kindness.”
“no, i’m serious!” he said. “he looks great. hey, now that i think of it…you both kind of have the same nose…” 
now you frowned. “same nose? um this guy, he wouldn’t be-”
“i’m back!” 
the new voice coming from the front door caused both of you to flinch, seokmin’s arms wrapping around your body instinctively as he pulled you towards him. 
jaehyun was just about to stride into the living room, a delivery packet in his hand with his dimpled smile in full glory when he froze at the sight of you. or rather, the sighte of you and your boyfriend in each other’s arms.
but then his eyes landed on seokmin and it seemed to widen in horror, and before you could jump up and explain to your older brother that this was your boyfriend, the two men pointed at each other before gasping, “you!”
“you?” you asked, head turning to look from seokmin to your brother. “you two know each other?”
“your brother is…jung jaehyun?” seokmin asked, looking at you in complete bewilderment. you blinked at him in surprise. “ye-yes?”
“why did you run away from me today, bro?” jaehyun interrupted, looking at seokmin equally bewildered. 
“wait- wait, what?” you asked, finally the puzzle pieces fitting in your head. you turned to seokmin once again. “that handsome- that intimidating person was…jaehyun?”
seokmin groaned, covering his face with his hands. “now you get me, baby?”
“whom are you babying in front of me!” jaehyun gasped, causing you to glare at him. “shut up, jaehyun! you scared my sweet boyfriend! that’s why he ran, you moron.”
“but i never even talked to him!” 
“yeah but if you go around with that lifeless look in your eyes and that bread man smile i’m afraid everyone would be terrified of you.”
“y/n, you didn’t need to go so far for me.” seokmin groaned beside you, finally peeping through the gap of his fingers. his eyes landed on your brother once again, before visibly gulping. “i, uh, i didn’t mean to run away. i, uh, just panicked-”
“but i don’t bite!” jaehyun complained. you wanted to remind him of that one incident where he bit your arm because you had blown his birthday candles but you decided to stay quiet and let the beloved men of your life solve their…dispute. “besides, i should be the one scared of you! you’re such a talented singer i really thought you wouldn’t talk to a noob like me.”
“mum told you not to use the word noob.”
“she told me not to use the word boob.”
“see?” you said, turning back to seokmin and prying his fingers off his face. “you’re scared of this idiot?”
and to your delight, seokmin cracked a smile at you, a small laughter bubbling at your statement. 
“i’m still here, both of you.” jaehyun reminded you both, causing you to turn back to him again.
“oh dude, i’m, uh, sorry. i’ll, uh, send you the maths notes once i reach home.” seokmin said, eyes flitting all over jaehyun in nervousness. jaehyun gave him a thumbs up before saying, “that’s fine man. sorry for scaring you so much. we should get along more…especially since you’re dating my baby sister.”
“shut up.” you hissed and he stuck his tongue out, before walking over to his room. “i’ll be in my room so no suspicious activities, please.”
“whatever.” you muttered. as soon as you heard the door close, you grabbed seokmin’s face to pull him into a kiss.
“what was that for?” seokmin whined, after finally breaking away from the kiss. 
“you’re so adorable.” you whispered, giggling a little. seokmin smiled at you, before booping his nose against yours.
“and you were so adorable when you were defending me, baby. i didn’t know jaehyun was your brother.”
“the world is truly round, isn’t it?” you asked.
“it is. oh, to think i was this terrified of my future brother-in-law.”
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© 𝐆𝐘𝐔-𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
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154 notes · View notes
zzoguri · 29 days
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familiarity (it’s all sticky) ➵ lee seokmin
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peter parker!lee seokmin x spiderman!reader
you’re not sure why you decide to show up at your ex’s place all wounded up from tonight’s battle.
genre/warnings ➵ exes (to sort of lovers?), angst, touch of fluff, afab reader (no gendered terms), hurt/comfort (both physical and emotional), discussions of wounds and depictions of blood, lowercase intended, ghost-spider au (though please don’t expect it to be accurate!), reader is obviously spiderman while dokyeom is peter parker i mean HELLO?? i am right, dokyeom is a lil a slob here, reader’s hair is long enough to be tucked behind their ear, based everything on google when it comes to patching up wounds omg, kissing fingertips, mentions of non-sexual stripping and showering (let him take care of you)
word count ➵ 4k words
playlist ➵ nonviolent communication by metro boomin, james blake, a$ap rocky, & 21 savage // hummingbird by metro boomin & james blake
a/n ➵ my svt writing debut <3 i thought this fic would also work really well for my silly dk and i wanted caratblr to have a chance to read this lil baby of mine <3 here's the original work if you're interested! and ofc, thank you to my cat @wuahae for betareading the original :’) you know how much i love you! don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! want to request? check out my guidelines! masterlist
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new york city never falls silent. the bustle of every new yorker can be heard through their footsteps,  the wheels that glide against the train tracks along with the beeps of taxis sound throughout the city. the metropolis stays alive in every street, every alleyway, every corner. no matter what hour it may be, each pavement is wide awake.
but the lights seem hazy tonight; the luminescence pours out of every building, the led boards are only blurs of silhouettes and illegible words. normally, you would warn against going out if someone could barely make sense of what these signs say, but you never seem to follow your own advice.
as you swing through the city, web clinging onto every building, blood continues to seep through the white spandex that covers you from head to toe. your body feels heavy, the pain in your lower abdomen continuing to spike with every movement—every swing—you make.
you bite on your lip, holding back the whimpers. your eyes dart through every street sign you pass. with every swing, you realize you’re nowhere close to where you should be. instead… 
you don’t allow yourself to think it over. maybe the loss of blood has you moving out of impulse, but for now, you can only think of getting rid of the pain.
you swing around the corner before landing down at the familiar fire escape, paint-chipped and rusted just like you remember. a hiss leaves your mouth as your hand reaches out to the spot where the blood continues to seep through, holding it down to keep pressure on the wound.
you’re face-to-face with the window; the reflection of you all suited up in some persona is a sight you’re accustomed to—but not on the glass of his window. you’re not sure why you came back here, injured in an identity he only knew of through word of mouth.
but the throbbing in your abdomen doesn’t give you enough time to think more about it. pushing the window up, you throw one leg over the edge into the apartment. your eyes quickly scan through the familiar space—a room you once treated as yours.
pillows scattered and bedsheets wrinkled, the walls are littered with the same posters of anime he swears to be the best of all time (which you agreed with), along with his desk, littered with trinkets you haven’t seen since the day you left him—ones that he talked about to you back then with so much joy.
as you attempt to get your other leg over the edge of the window, you yelp at the sharp pain that strikes. “fuck,” you whimper, gasping out a breath. another groan rips out from your throat as you force your leg over, head resting on the frame with closed eyes, bracing yourself through the wave of pain that follows.
as pants continue to leave your mouth, your senses tingle as your ears catch the sound of footsteps on the other side of the room. you attempt to stand up only for another groan to leave your lips, and you realize it’s too late—the door creaks open, revealing the man you haven’t been face-to-face with since you said your farewell months ago.
dressed in an oversized white tee and a pair of black shorts, dokyeom stands with a bag of chips in his hand and disheveled hair, eyes wide and gaping. you can only assume he was fresh from bed.  
“s-spiderman?!” he looks around, noticing the mess that you’re being exposed to. before you can register it, he rushes in, dropping the bag of chips somewhere near the doorway, and tries to tidy his bed. “w-what are you doing here? i think you might’ve entered the wrong room,” he stutters as he attempts to fix his pillows and bedsheets (poorly, if you may say). 
somehow, the sight of dokyeom all frazzled makes you smile behind your mask. the idea of your—no, you mean, this guy all worried about you seeing how untidy he lives makes you chuckle.
but as you laugh, pain shoots through your lower abdomen once more. you cough out before hissing, pressing onto the wound. it takes everything in you to keep your body upright until you feel a pair of hands rest on your shoulders. you look up only to be met with his worried expression.
and you spot the way his eyes trail down to where your hand rests. you’re thankful that the mask could hide the heat that rises to your cheeks.
“oh god, you need that treated,” dokyeom’s eyes snap back up to you, and your breath hitches. even after all these months, he still holds stars in his eyes.
it’s been a while since you last saw him up close. the bags on his under eyes have turned a few shades darker, and you notice an eyelash that rests on his cheek. you don’t think about what you do next, your free hand reaching out to his face, and his breath hitches. once you pick it out, you flick the strand off of your fingers, and that’s when you realize the mistake you committed.
“s-sorry,” you choke out. although you try to keep your voice as low and gruntled as possible, he frowns. he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicker between your masked face and the wound.
“i-i don’t know how to help. i can call for an ambulan—”
you grab onto his arm before he can leave. as you shake your head, he gulps. “i can’t really help you,” he says, but your grip doesn’t falter. with that, he lets out a sigh before kneeling in front of you. his hands find themselves on the ledge, his arms now caging your frail figure. “do you have someone in mind who can help you?”
dokyeom’s question is innocent. you’re sure the last thing he meant was to mock your situation—showing up in a “stranger’s” room unannounced—but it strikes a chord in you.
you haven’t spoken to him since you broke up a few months back. when you’re outside of your suit, you avoid him like the plague. in the hallways of campus, you take any possible route to not cross his. but when you’re covered in your second skin, you find yourself on top of buildings watching him from far away. with the distance, you allow yourself to learn about what he’s been up to since you two last spoke. 
so you don’t know why you sit in front of him all injured and dressed up in white, black, and pink spandex, because you haven’t spoken to him since that day. shame bubbles within you all while reality slowly slips from your fingertips. and the way your body gets heavier with every second that passes has him mumbling profanities.
his hands hold onto you as he makes you lean your weight on the frame of the window. “wait,” he says as he stands up and walks into his bathroom. before you know it, he comes out with a box.
dokyeom finds his spot back in front of you and he opens what he retrieved. as he looks through the supplies of bandages, alcohol, gauze, and more, he says as his eyes flicker up towards you, “i don’t know how much this will help but it’ll do for now.”
and you should be thankful that someone is willing to bandage you up after the rough night you’ve had, but it feels like a lie to have dokyeom be the one to do it, especially when you haven’t told him the truth.
so when he grabs onto the supplies he needs to treat your wound, your free hand reaches for the underside of your mask. his eyes follow where it rests, and he freezes in his tracks. your fingertips curl on the fabric as you take a deep breath.
“you don’t—”
you shake your head, cutting him off, and you close your eyes before pulling off the mask.
you’re afraid to look at the boy kneeling in front of you, for you can only imagine the annoyance—the disgust—that will paint his features. it’s not like you had a choice to show up at his fire escape this one night, but it was your choice to reveal who spiderman really is behind the mask.
a beat passes.
you’re not sure what to do at this moment. what are you supposed to do after a vigilante reveals who they are?
but when you open your eyes, dokyeom looks back at you with an emotion you can’t pinpoint. he averts his eyes, trailing down to your wound. “let me see it,” he whispers.
you gulp, an attempt to clear your throat and thoughts, before letting your hand move away from the puncture. your hand grips the hem of the top of your suit, peeling it upwards to reveal a bloody wound. from the sight, it looks like you were stabbed, but it’s only a deep cut.
he pulls out a piece of cloth, reaching out and pressing it to your wound. you yelp, eyes squeezing shut at the contact.  “i’m sorry, but we need to stop the bleeding a bit more.” it takes everything in you to open your eyes. you’re met with the sight of dokyeom whose face holds a thousand emotions—you can’t identify any of them.
“can you keep pressure on it?” you only nod before you remove your gloves, afraid to touch the wound with fabric covered in grime. you dump your mask and gloves on the space beside you before letting your hand reach to where the cloth is held against. your hand brushes against his for a split second—you retract your hand immediately at the contact with his skin.
at the sudden motion, the cloth against your stomach drops with nothing left to hold it. dokyeom curses in a panic, hand shooting out in an attempt to save it, but you react faster. snatching it mid-fall, you grasp it tightly, placing the cloth back onto your wound. his eyes dart between where your hand rests and your face, a twinge of worry cast on his features, but he doesn’t give you an opportunity to say anything as he stands up quickly and walks back to his bathroom.
you hear the water run for a moment. the noises of the street fill your ears. the lights from outside cascade the floor, hues of yellow and purple filling the room. and then thunder rumbles; it shakes the floorboards. the sounds of raindrops follow, and you feel your back start to get wet from the storm that has entered new york city.
you try to push yourself off the ledge, a groan ripping out of your throat once more. and you’re finally on your feet. but at any moment, it feels like you may collapse.
“wait, wait! what are you doing?” dokyeom exclaims as he rushes out of the bathroom. he quickly grabs hold of you in an attempt to keep you steady. “don’t stand up or that wound might get worse.”
“i-it’s just the rain. i don’t want to leave the window open.” as you turn your torso, another spike strikes where your wound is. the yelp that leaves your mouth has dokyeom grip onto your arm tighter.
“no, just sit. i’ll take care of it,” he says as he brings you to his chair, his hand never leaves your arm. you let out a hiss until your bottom meets the cushion. as soon as your back rests on the chair, you close your eyes for a moment from the pain.
his hand leaves you. you hear the window shut; the car horns and barks from stray animals are now muffled.
when your eyes flutter open, dokyeom crouches in front of you with a wet towel in his hand. “i need to clean it.” you only nod before removing the cloth on your wound. he grabs it from you and places it on his lap.
as he raises the wet towel to your wound, you flinch at the contact. he quickly retracts it and asks, “does it hurt?”
“no, it’s just cold,” you mumble back. he only nods before attempting to clean the area around your wound. while he keeps his eyes on the puncture, your eyes remain on his face; hues of yellow cast upon him.
his skin glows under the city lights—did anyone know about the stars you once carved on it?
“is this why we broke up?” his eyes snap toward yours as he asks that question.
you cannot help but bite the inside of your cheek. “y-yeah,” you choke out.
he hums before his eyes go back down to your injury. “i’m guessing this is why you were distant then, right?”
you don’t bother to speak, letting the silence speak for itself.
he removes the wet towel; the white cloth is covered in patches of red. as he crumples it into a ball, you spot that his white shirt holds splotches of blood as well.
dokyeom stands up to drop the pieces of fabric on the table behind you. “your dad obviously doesn’t know,” he mutters to himself.
it’s a rhetorical question. of course, your father has no clue of your late-night rendezvous. you’re sure he could never look at you the same if he found out because to him, he would never understand what you do. he would see you only as a low-life criminal in the same way the nypd does. 
dokyeom then dabs a cotton ball soaked in betadine on your abdomen. you bite on your lip as a hiss leaves your mouth. “fuck,” you curse, and he only continues to clean up your wound.
silence takes over you two. as he bandages you up, you allow yourself to close your eyes. you were thankful to find rest in these small moments. but you don’t miss the warmth of his fingertips on your skin; they feel just like last time.
“why did you come here?” his question has your eyes snapping open, and you are met with a frown resting on his face.
you bite the inside of your cheek. “i-i don’t know.” it’s a lie—one you both know. you had every chance to change the route you were taking. instead, you chose to go to his place—even if it may be on the other side of where you live.
he lets out a sigh. it’s clear that he’s disappointed by your words, but all he says is “okay,” as he gets up. “you can stay here for the night.” he stands in front of you in a shirt covered in patches of blood—it’s proof that his heart still holds a spot for you.
despite the venom that was laced in your words the night you cut ties with him, he leaves you a space for you to fill. it’s another choice you can make, but one you’re not sure if you should take.
dokyeom walks to the desk behind you and flips the lamp on. you swivel the chair so that you’re face-to-face with his slouched figure. you would’ve scolded him, but you’re not in the place to do so—not after what you two had.
but a part of you wishes to chide those words—hey, keep slouching and your back will get worse—for old time’s sake. it takes everything in you to hold back from saying the reminder, but it takes nothing to let your hand grip the back of his shirt. his movements halt.
as you sit up, you let your face bury into the arch of his back. the scent of his laundry detergent (it’s still the same smell of lavender) fills your nose, and you let your hands trail around his torso until they find their home on his waist. even after all these months, your hands knew where to rest—your spidey senses knew who to go to.
you feel his hands rest on your arms, his thumb drawing circles on your forearm. you breathe at the same pace as him. whenever his shoulders move up, yours follow. and you allow yourself to cherish just this once the familiar warmth of dokyeom. you let your soul mesh with his once more.
with closed eyes, you whisper, “i still look for you.” his thumb stops moving, and a shaky breath leaves your mouth. “i’m here because all i know is you.”
it’s half of a lie, but still a lie nevertheless. you shake your head against his shirt. “no,” you rescind. “i know i shouldn’t be here, and i had every chance to go back home, but,” you take a deep breath. “would you let me, just this once, be honest with you?”
your question hangs in the air—it’s not for him but for you. all the choices you took led to this moment, from embracing the persona you were handed through a single spider bite all the way to removing the mask in front of him.
dokyeom spins to face you. he stands in front of you with the remnants of you covering him, his shirt coated in hues of red and your blood dried up on his hands. the light behind him causes a shadow to paint his face.
but when he kneels once more in front of you, you get a good look at his features. he still looks like the same boy you first met—the same one you fell in love with—but you wonder if he was still the one you knew?
that is until his hand reaches toward your face. you hold your breath as it finds its spot on your cheek. but as his thumb grazes your cheekbone, a trembling breath leaves you. you gulp everything down—your fears and anxieties—so that you can finally be honest with dokyeom.
“i wanted to tell you who i really am.” a flicker of confusion flashes through his eyes. “and i know i’m not doing it in the best state,” a chuckle leaves your mouth. “but with every day that passes, and every injury i need to endure, i didn’t know when i would be able to tell you what went wrong with us.” a beat passes. “what went wrong with me.”
he shakes his head. “nothing’s wrong with you. what are you talking about?” a frown takes over his face. “i mean, you’re spiderman, for god’s sake.” you weren’t able to hold back the giggle that slipped from your lips.
but it wouldn’t be fair to just accept his words as is, not after the damage you’ve caused.
you let a hand rest on his, the one that rests on your cheek, and you curl your fingers so that you hold it. “i’m sorry that this is me.” the whisper is loud enough to fill the silence of his room. “i’m sorry that i crashed here all injured and left you to deal with the mess,” your eyes flicker to his bed. “especially on a night when you were resting.”
as soon as your eyes go back to dokyeom, you notice that he’s biting the inside of his cheek. “why are you telling me this?” it’s an honest question, one he couldn’t figure out the answer to. “we haven’t seen each other since you broke up with me.”
and he has every right to be confused with your sudden appearance. after all the months spent avoiding him in the halls while still seeking him on top of buildings, dokyeom was left with no clue as to why you come to him first in such a dire situation. why is it that you chose to reveal such an intimate part of yourself months after you two have drifted?
“do i have to say it?” you ask.
and he looks back into your eyes before saying, “it’s the least you can do.”
so you grab onto his hand, moving it so that it rests in yours. the sight of his fingers and palms covered in splotches of you fills your heart with warmth. it’s proof of the time he spent to patch you up. no matter who you may be—spiderman or not—you will forever be at his mercy.
“we can’t be together. it will only be another cycle of pain.” for both of you. as your eyes land back on his face, you spot sorrow coating his features.
“but i still do.” it’s an unfinished thought on his end. despite the frown you show, all he does is flash you a bitter smile. “i always have and always will.”
and it clicks.
“n-no, dokyeom,” you shake your head. “you can’t.”
he brings your hand close to his lips, letting it linger for a moment. “but you do,” he whispers into your fingertips. “right?”
even after revealing who spiderman truly is behind the mask, you expect dokyeom to rethink everything he knows. the months spent away from you should be enough reason to reconsider how much he knows of you now. but even if you two were to spend years apart, he would still read you as well as he does now. 
“i can’t,” you choke out. “i can only offer so much, and you deserve so much more.”
he smiles at you—the same one you used to see every day, no matter what time of the day it may be—as his free hand reaches for your hair, tucking it behind your ear.
“i couldn’t care any less.”
you shake your head. it’s clear he doesn’t understand the gravity of it all; to be with you means to remain in constant danger. “no, dokyeom. you don’t understand. i broke up with you because i’m batshit scared of what will happen to you.”
because it seems to always occur—anyone you come close to becomes another target for your enemies. it’s already hard enough to handle the responsibility of being a masked hero, but you don’t think you could handle a possibility where dokyeom’s death would be on your hands.
but all he does is shake his head and says, “i don’t care. i still love you.”
you haven’t heard him say that to you in months. such a simple phrase causes warmth to fill your limbs and heat to rise to your cheeks. he still has the same effect on you after so long.
there are consequences that this conversation bears. you should have stood up and left as soon as he patched you up. it should’ve been obvious that the longer you stayed, the more you would pour out sentiments that you tried to keep under wraps—under the mask—and it seemed that dokyeom knew how to undo them even better than he did then.
and hearing dokyeom say those words has you falling into a perpetual cycle of torment, one that makes every day intolerable for you can only watch him from afar. but aren’t you already living it the more you deny what’s in front of you two?
so you only nod, and bring his hand close so you can feel his fingertips on your lips. with closed eyes, you whisper, “okay.”
it’s a testament to everything—one to his offer to let you sleep in this very room you once treated as yours, one to his confession that tilted your world’s axis, one to the very situation you’re in—and you’re sure he knows it, too.
he smiles as soon as your eyes flutter open. “let’s go to sleep.”
you know that sleep meant to be wrapped in his arms all while he would leave kisses on your temple. you don’t remember the last time you got enough rest, but you remember that the last time you slept in dokyeom’s arms was the last one you were able to fall into slumber at ease.
so you nod, allowing him to help you out of the chair. and he helps you through it all—shedding the suit off of you, cleaning you of all the grime from tonight’s adventure, and getting dressed in fresh clothes—until you two find your place on his bed.
nothing is said for the rest of the night. for once, you drift into slumber without any secrets stashed away.
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wheeboo · 5 months
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i miss you, don't call me | lee seokmin
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SYNOPSIS. in which a particular boy has been clouding your mind lately, and you decide to drink away the thought of him𑁋when that isn't the right choice. PAIRING. ex!lee seokmin x gn!reader GENRE. angst, hurt/comfort... but also not really WARNINGS. drinking, swearing WORD COUNT. 2.5k
notes: kinda inspired from the song "i miss you, don't call me" by alessia cara. just wanna say i am forever guilty and full of shame for writing angst for this man. it feels completely out of character to write angst for him 😭😭
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You hate the taste of alcohol.
You hate the way it lingers a bitter aftertaste on your lips, the way it burns like a smoldering ember down your throat that refuses to be extinguished, the way it wraps its tendrils around your senses and makes the world spin so merry around you.
You hate the taste of alcohol, yet there's a certain fascination in the way it blurs the edges of reality and a strange comfort in its familiarity. You were never usually one to drink in general, but tonight was different, and you find yourself caught between the resistance and the surrender, tip-toeing on the edge of clarity and a spellbound haze.
This is supposed to make you forget. Forget the deadlines, the expectations, the responsibilities, the miniscule hole in your chest that you have been trying to close. This is supposed to propel you in the right direction𑁋at least, that's what you convinced yourself in the hours before you wounded up in the middle of your living room with a half-empty glass in your hand. It's midnight, or something, you don't know for sure, and you couldn't be bothered to even check anyway.
This is supposed to help you forget him. He did nothing wrong, or anything wrong for the matter. His smile was always so bright like the sun, so full of life. He's like a bruise that refuses to fade, yet merely painful to the touch. You take another sip, and the amber liquid seems to carry with it the warmth of his laughter. And when you close your eyes just for a few seconds, you swear you can feel the warmth of that figurative sun on your face. Or maybe it's the alcohol. Or both.
It's been almost a year since you let him go. The reasons were complicated𑁋or simply, you both were just different𑁋and the echoes of that choice still reverberate in the quiet corners of your heart. You were convinced it was for the best for both of you, and all it took was two sentences for that line to be cut right on the same couch that you sat on.
And yet, the ache of his absence persists, leaving a void in your chest that you couldn't stitch up yourself.
Does he... still think about you from time to time?
It's a question you've asked yourself in the quiet moments before sleep. You wonder if he ever glances at the same moon that hangs in the night sky and thinks of the moments you shared under its wake.
You try to bury the thought away under the weight of another sip, but it resurfaces like an insistent tide as you let out a heated hiss to its taste. The room around you sways slightly, your head is starting to pound, and your thoughts are restless with nothing but just him.
The screen to your phone lights up on the coffee table, and you glance down at it, suddenly contemplating the idea of reaching out to him. Maybe it's the alcohol whispering in your ear, urging you to seek closure, or perhaps, rekindle a flame that was never truly extinguished.
The unanswered question lingers like a spectre in the room. Does he still think about you? The question gnaws angrily at your skin, and you find yourself reaching for the phone almost instinctively, as if drawn by a sudden invisible force.
With a deep breath, you unlock your phone. His contact is still there, his slightly blurry name staring right back at you like an open invitation. You tap a few times before landing on his number, and with a mixture of intoxication and courage, you press the call button.
The phone rings, each tone amplifying the drumming in your head. Your heartbeat quickens with each ring, the sound of it echoing in your ears. The haze in your mind seems to intensify, and you realise you might be crossing a line, but it's too late to turn back now.
The seconds tick away, and just as you begin to think about hanging up, he answers.
"Hello?"
His voice reaches through the phone and into your clouded consciousness. For a moment, you freeze, caught between the impulse to speak and the weight of the drunken-induced courage that made you make this call.
"Hey, Seokmin." Your voice comes out smaller and weaker than you anticipated.
A beat of silence follows your words. The weight of his name hangs in the air. You can almost sense Seokmin trying to process the unexpected call.
"Y/N?" His voice carries a mix of surprise and concern. "Is that really you?"
"Yeah," You reply, your words sounding less sure than you intended. "It's me."
There's another pause, and you can almost feel the distance between you two through the phone.
Then his voice comes through again, gentle and cautious, "Is everything okay?"
"Um..." You croak out, your thoughts stumbling over the words. "I just... I just needed to hear your voice."
Another pause. The only thing you could hear is the faint static on the other line.
"My voi𑁋Wait, are... are you drunk?"
A nervous laugh escapes your lips. "Uh, maybe a little," You admit embarrassingly.
Seokmin lets out a soft sigh on the other end of the line. You can't tell if it's from relief, concern, or disappointment, but the weight of it presses against your chest. It's almost suffocating.
"I just..." You start, the words hanging in the air. "is it bad to... to say that I miss you?"
The silence that follows is almost deafening. You can nearly imagine his face on the other end𑁋the ever expressive sunshine Lee Seokmin whom you spent nearly all of your college years with. A faint smile tugs at your lips at the thought of it, the thought of him. Sure, you've wondered how he has been from time to time, but tonight felt different. You can't tell if the alcohol is confusing missing with longing, or if it's amplifying a truth you've kept buried for too long.
"Y/N, you... We don't even live in the same city anymore." Seokmin's voice breaks the heavy silence. There's some suppression to his voice, like he's trying to hold something back, but you don't seem to notice. "Things have changed."
You bite your lip unconsciously, almost too hard you think it might bruise and bleed. The reality of it all settles in𑁋that you live hundreds of miles away from each other𑁋and a knot forms in your stomach. You take another sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol can provide some sort of shield for the vulnerability seeping through.
"I'm... I'm not asking to get back together, I..." Your voice trails off again, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "Things here have been awful, and I couldn't help... couldn't help but think of you, I guess."
Seokmin's side of the line remains quiet for a moment, absorbing the weight of your words. You can almost envision the wheels turning in his mind. There's a siren that wails outside your apartment for a few seconds, before fading away in the distance.
"You're drunk, Y/N," Seokmin states. "This isn't the best time to talk𑁋"
"I just wanted to know if you still thought about me too," You interrupt him, voice firm. The words are forcing themselves out at this point, and there's an urgency in your tone, almost as if the alcohol has taken control of your tongue.
Seokmin sighs audibly on the other end, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair.
"This... this isn't fair," he finally responds. "You can't just... call me in the middle of the night and tell me all this now."
His words sting, not because they're harsh, but because they're true.
"You were... you were always so cheery, you know?" You chuckle, words slurring slightly. "Even when I was drowning in stress, you had... th-this way of making everything feel lighter. And right now, I... I'm looking for a new job. Everything's been a fucking nightmare, and you... were the first person I thought of and..."
You stop your track in your words, gulping down an imaginary mass wedged down your throat. When your cast your eyes around your dark apartment, all you could see are the remnants of a life you used to share with him, and the mess you were left to clean up with.
You tighten your grip on your phone slightly. "Do you remember when, um... we used to stay up late, working on our assignments together? It... it feels like a lifetime ago."
There's a soft laughter you hear on the other end, and you think for a moment you might just have made him smile. You feel a little bit lighter at the thought.
"And... the pizza boxes that we turned into little tables because our dorm room couldn't fit all of our textbooks and a decent eating space?" You add on, finding yourself smiling to the visual. Just a tiny bit.
There's some shifting on the other side. He's remembering all of it too.
"We were a little messy back then, weren't we?" he chuckles fondly.
You bite your lip nervously again. "But... it was our mess, right?"
"Yeah," You hear him say, and there's a warmth in his voice. "Our mess that we somehow made work."
You take a sip of your drink again, even though you really shouldn't. But you can't help it. The alcohol seems to fuel your courage, or perhaps it's the shared nostalgia that wraps around your conversation like a comforting blanket. The messiness, the laughter, the late-night talks with his arms around you𑁋they were all part of a chapter that shaped both of you.
Your mind is hazy, but you press on, driven by a longing you can't quite articulate.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I called," You confess, voice trembling. "I just felt this emptiness, and I thought... I thought hearing your voice might fill it, even for just a second."
"It's okay," Seokmin is quick to reassure gently and soothingly. "You don't need to say sorry; it does... feel nice hearing you. But calling me in the middle of the night, when you're drunk... it's not the solution, okay?"
You nod, even though he can't see you. There's some heat that prickles at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, trying to contain yourself. You've already made an enough mess of yourself this entire night.
"I know it wasn't..." You clench and unclench your other hand, nails digging into your skin. "I just... needed someone to talk to, and you were that person for me."
"But... I'm not that person anymore," Seokmin clarifies, and his words seems to hit a nerve. "You have to be that person for yourself."
You inhale shakily, realising that you've been clinging to a version of him that exists only in memories. For a moment, you're suspended between the past and the present. The truth in his statement stings, but the pain is necessary. You've been using this idea of him, the memories you shared, to help ground you.
You wish you could reach through the phone and touch the past, rewrite the script, and undo the choices that led to this painful distance. But you already know you can't. It's too late.
Seokmin's right𑁋things have changed.
"Can you... just answer what I asked before?" You ask softly, carefully, tapping your fingers nervously against the glass in your hand. "If you... if you still thought about me."
There's a sound on the other end. You're not sure what it is𑁋a sigh, a chair shifting, or perhaps the subtle closing of his eyes. Whatever it is, it heightens the anticipation.
"Of course I... I do think about you," Seokmin admits, and that particular weakness to his voice paralyses you. Your heart catches in your throat. "I can never forget about what we had. But... we've both moved forward, Y/N. Life took us in different directions."
His words hit you like a cold breeze. It doesn't bring the comfort you expected; instead, it leaves you with a mix of emotions𑁋vulnerability, acceptance, and a tinge of sorrow.
"Maybe... in a different universe?" You hear the uncertainty in your own voice, a wistful hope that hangs in the heavy air around you.
You try to think you imagine a smile to his face when you say that, but the silence on the other end stretches out, and reality settles in again.
"Maybe," he concedes, and the word hangs there, suspended between what once was and what could have been. Just not in this one. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Y/N. I need you to be happy, even if it's without me. Life keeps moving, and we have to move with it. You're one of the strongest people I know, okay? You can get through this. I believe in you. I always have, and I always will."
You deserve happiness too, Seokmin.
Despite the gloominess to your thoughts, every single one of his words echoes within your head. And it hurts, your head throbbing from the alcohol and emotions. The truth tastes like a bitter pill, and you swallow it down, the sting lingering in your chest.
"I miss you," You admit before you could think straight, slipping out like a confession in the dark, suddenly feeling all too exposed.
"I... I miss you too," Seokmin responds hesitantly, softly; you can hear the small, hint of a smile in his voice. You wonder if he's been smiling like the sun these days. "but... I don't want you to call me like this. Not when you're hurting and drunk. It's not healthy for either of us."
His words carry a gentle yet firm tone, a reminder of the boundaries that now exist between you. You can feel the reality of the situation settling in and the pages that turned since you both went your separate ways.
"I know," You murmur. "I just... needed to say it out loud."
For a minute, you both don't say anything. It's oddly comfortable, yet fragile with an unspoken sadness.
"Promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay?" Seokmin's voice breaks through the quiet. It's a request, a plea.
"I promise," You respond, the sincerity cutting through the haze. "And you take care too, Seokmin."
The conversation lingers for a moment, as if both of you are reluctant to sever the weak tie that binds you in this moment.
"Goodbye, Y/N."
"Goodbye, Seokmin."
When the call disconnects, you sit there for a while, phone in hand, the room now silent except for the distant sounds of the city outside.
You glance down at the almost-empty glass down in your hand, and in a swift movement, down the rest of the drink down your throat, feeling the familiar burn as it goes down. The room seems to sway a bit more than before, and you clutch your phone a bit more tighter as if it might steady you.
Then you shoot your eyes back down at your phone, seeing the way it turns on when you tap the screen, the sudden brightness of the screen stinging your eyes.
Impulsively, you navigate to your messages, and without thinking too much, you find Seokmin's contact and start typing.
[y/n] i love you, i'm sorry
With a deep breath, you hit send, and flip your phone over. Fuck, what did you just do? You're going insane.
Then your phone vibrates again, and you quickly grab it, heart racing.
But then your heart drops. It's not a message; it's a notification.
The number you have reached is no longer available.
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waldau · 8 days
Text
sunshine — lee seokmin | 764 words | fluff
bro is literal sunshine, i had to. i don't know how this came to me but i'm so glad it did. and can we ignore the fact that you could see it only across america?
gender neutral reader. warnings: none.
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dokyeom knows he’s being a bit obnoxious.
okay, maybe not just a bit. very obnoxious.
but is it his fault that he’s upset about missing the solar eclipse that he’d wanted to see with you?
the pictures you’ve sent him aren’t enough. he kept staring at all eleven of them, showing him every angle you managed to get. even nasa had been roped into your shenanigans to try to make him feel a little less sad about missing out, not to mention the livestream you’d held for two seconds, cutting it off even before he got a chance to say hi.
it goes without saying that he can’t help but feel a bit guilty.
he knows it’s a bit too much when the smile he gives you isn’t as cheerful as yours. he knows its over the top when he resists your attempts to cuddle with him. in the end, your puppy eyes break him enough to let you hold him.
“it’s just so unfair,” he huffs, pressing his face into your shoulder. he ignores the little giggle you give out, running your fingers through his hair. this is a matter of utmost importance and he should be allowed to sulk, dammit.
“i’m not saying it’s not, kyeom.”
“but you’re laughing at me! i’m sad i missed seeing the eclipse with you and you’re laughing at me.”
“hey, i’m not laughing. didn’t i try calling you on video so you wouldn’t miss out? and didn’t i send pictures later?”
“that’s…not the point.”
“then what is?”
dokyeom sighs. “i wanted to see it with you. it wasn’t about the eclipse. we always watch the sun rise and set whenever we’re together. of course i wanted to watch this one with you, too.”
“oh,” is all you say.
dokyeom just pulls away from you and shifts so that his head rests in your lap.
“hey,” you say, thumb tracing his cheekbone. soft. “are you really that upset because you didn’t get to watch an eclipse?”
“it wasn’t just an eclipse, though,” he says, looking up at you. you look so good, even upside down. “it was the eclipse. and i missed it. and you.”
“but you were touring, baby.”
dokyeom knows you’re right, but he’s not in the mood to listen to logic right now. so he behaves like the very mature adult he is and hides his face in your stomach, unwilling to look up at you. he doesn’t move even when he can feel your silent laughs shake your body. he feels you stretch to your side for something and very reluctantly looks up at you when you tap his shoulder.
“do me a favour?”
“anything,” he says immediately.
“take a photo with me?”
there’s already maybe a couple thousand photos of the two of you together in each of your phones, and dokyeom figures it wouldn’t hurt to add a few more. it never does.
but he’s also confused by the sudden change in topic. “what…”
“trust me.”
that he does. he shuts up and arranges himself so he’s lying a bit more comfortably on you, his super long arms helping him take the best picture he can for you. oh, well. pictures. multiple.
he’s become a bit tired of posing for selfies by himself, so it feels good to have your face in the frame again. he keeps capturing you more than himself till you ask him to stop, selecting what he deems are your favourites before you send them to him.
“see this?” you ask, showing him one of the photos. you’re accidentally out of the frame, and he’s captured himself laughing the way he does when he’s with you, eyes squeezed shut with the widest grin on his lips. do you know how happy you make him?
“…yeah?”
“that’s my sun you’re seeing. you’re lucky you can see yourself in a mirror every single day, you know?”
dokyeom swears his brain blanks. shirt circuits to the worst degree possible. “did you just—”
“—steal your job of using pick-up lines? maybe?”
suddenly, it doesn’t really matter that much anymore. sure, he’s a bit bummed he didn’t get to see it in person, and he didn’t get to see it with you, but he has you. forever. like the sun. burning bright, looking after him.
“also,” you say, looking very proud of yourself, “the next one’s in 2044. let’s make sure we don’t miss that one, okay?”
that’s…twenty years in the future.
when dokyeom clings to you a little more while you sleep that night, he thinks you already know the reason why.
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