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wonusite · 5 months

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Endless Adoration

❝ Mingyu has been irrevocably in love with you since he was in high school. He decides to keep this a secret until he can move on since you’ve only ever seen him as your best friend’s brother. However, his plan goes awry when you ask him to take your virginity and teach you about sex—as a friend, of course. ❞

PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader

GENRE: best friends brother au, friends with benefits au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 7.2k

WARNINGS: bestie’s brother!mingyu, virgin!reader, secret pining, suppressed feelings, discourse of how to pronounce caramel, mingyu is the textbook definition of down bad, loss of virginity, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mirror sex, riding, squirting, multiple creampies, cum eating

A/N: this fic is my contribution to the fall season and part of the fall-ing for you collab! hope you all enjoy! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

It’s no secret that Mingyu is an affectionate man.

Acts of service and giving out his affection is his love language, and everyone knows it. Which is why no one really questions his behavior toward you. If he laughs a little too hard at something you said or always comes to your defense even when you’re wrong, it’s not really suspicious because he’s just a kind and gentle guy.

His little sister, however, does not see it that way.

Minseo knows her brother, and while he may be a walking green flag and a gentleman among beasts, he’s not that nice. Vernon argues that it’s only because you two are best friends that Mingyu treats you just a bit better than anyone else. It’s a viable argument, yet the little telltale signs point to Mingyu’s actions being more than common curtesy.

Like now as you’re arguing with Seungkwan during game night about the correct pronunciation of your favorite candy.

“It’s caramel.”

You scoff, eyebrows furrowed defiantly as you glare at Seungkwan. “No. It’s caramel.”

Vernon and Seokmin watch the exchange with amused smiles while Minseo watches her brother. He wears a similar expression, except there’s a subtle emotion in his eyes as he’s looking at you. It’s been there since you slapped down your last two Uno cards in repulsed shock when Seungkwan mispronounced caramel.

Ten minutes later, neither of you are willing to concede to the other and Mingyu still looks like a lovesick puppy.

“In what world is it caramel?” Seungkwan screeches, rising up from his spot on the couch.

“Mingyu.” You call suddenly. “Is it caramel or caramel?”

Two pair of heated eyes look over to him pointedly. The room goes silent as everyone waits for the answer that will possibly get you two to stop arguing. Minseo watches her brother carefully as he puts down his nearly empty beer bottle. The move seems casual, but she knows he does it to distract himself from the fact that you’re practically saying take my side.

“It’s caramel.”

“Ha!” You yell in victory, pointing a smug finger at a sulking Seungkwan. “I told you!”

Your friend’s pout is bitter. “That’s not fair! You only asked Mingyu because you know he’s going to agree with you no matter what!”

It’s true, and the rest of your giggling friends know it. Minseo doesn’t miss her brother’s bashful smile, and it makes her realize that there might actually be something deeper than just a crush. So she waits until all the guests leave to confront her brother about his not-so-subtle behavior.

“Is there something going on with you and Y/N?”

Now, her brother is naturally clumsy and pretty terrible at hiding his feelings, but Minseo didn’t expect him to drop all the board games he was carrying. He scrambles to pick up all the scattered pieces, pointedly looking at the ground and not up at her with a pout like he would’ve usually done.

“I—” He coughs awkwardly as he haphazardly shoves random pieces into the wrong boxes. “What are you talking about?”

It’s almost insulting that he thinks he can hide the truth from her. “I mean that I already know everything. So quit playing, and tell me how long this has been going on.”

Mingyu’s broad shoulders slump in defeat. He should’ve known that Minseo would find out (she had a knack for finding out everything), but he honestly didn’t expect her to find out this soon.

“Fine.” His tone is resigned as he puts the precariously stacked board games on the coffee table. “It’s true that I took Y/N’s virginity, but I swear that I only did it because she asked—”

“You what?”

His sister’s sharp tone makes him pause. Minseo’s mouth is dropped open and her eyes are almost popping out of her head. Belatedly, Mingyu realizes that his little sister is not referring to the favor you had asked him to do weeks ago. An uncomfortable chill goes down his spine.

Fuck.

You were going to kill him.

It’s not Mingyu’s fault.

When you came to him and asked him to teach you how to have sex, he was rendered powerless to your pretty eyes that shined with so much trust. He knows it’s wrong for him to take his little sister’s best friend’s virginity, but ever since you were kids, he’s never been able to tell you no. Years later, nothing has changed.

“Spread them wider, baby.” His voice rasps as his hands go to pry your thighs apart until he’s left with the sight of your glistening cunt.

Mingyu’s cock twitches at the sight of your pretty pussy. Fuck. You’re dripping in your own arousal, and all he’s done is kiss you and mark up a few places on your body. And yet, there’s already a messy web of arousal covering your puffy lips. His groan is deep and almost animalistic when he sees your pretty cunt clenching with need.

Minseo be damned, he was going to absolutely ruin you.

You mewl softly when Mingyu presses his middle and index fingers against your cunt to spread your lips apart. The heat from his fingers feels different from when you touch yourself. It feels so much better, and you have to bite your lip to stop the moans and whimpers from escaping like they want.

Your best friend’s brother has always been unfairly attractive, but he’s never looked hotter to you than he does now, licking his pink lips while looking at your pussy.

Mingyu glances up at you with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve really never done this before?”

The beefy puppy between your legs thinks he might actually come untouched when you pout at him. That exact look is what got him into this situation in the first place. Your adorable pout always brought him to his knees.

“Gyu.” You whine, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t tease me.”

He loves when you call him that, and it takes everything in him to hold himself back from shoving his cock inside you and fucking you roughly like he wants. That would have to be for another time.

“I’m not, baby.” He assures you before he presses a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. “I just need to know how far I should take this.”

The frown you give him is oddly determined. “You said you’d teach me everything.”

Fuck.

Mingyu wonders if you actually know what you’re asking for, but then he has to remind himself that you’re only inexperienced, not stupid. You came to him because you trust him, and he wouldn’t ever betray that trust. If you happened to be uncomfortable with anything, he would stop right away. Though, it seems like you have no intentions of telling him to stop.

The soft moan you let out when Mingyu starts to gently toy with your dripping slit is like music to his ears. He thinks you can’t get any hotter, but then you buck your aching cunt into his hand as if to say get on with it. Ever powerless to your desires, Mingyu slips two fingers past your folds. He curls them experimentally, feeling your warm, wet cunt stretch around his long fingers. Just as he thought. Virgin tight.

“Fuck.” His growl is deep and has you clenching down on his fingers. “I need to taste you.”

Arousal is clouding your mind and making you feel drunk. The way Mingyu is looking at you like you’re the thing he’s wanted the most in the world has you gushing all over his fingers. His hot mouth latches on to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. You cry out loudly as his fingers slowly start to fuck your hole, stretching you out to prepare you for his cock.

“Gyu!” You cry out as you arch you back, grinding your cunt into his face in search of release.

Your moans become broken when he forces his tongue into the tightness of your pussy. The groans he lets out makes you release more juices into his awaiting mouth. It’s almost embarrassing the way his room is suddenly full of the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt, but you feel too good to actually care.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Mingyu groans into your sopping cunt. “You have the sweetest little cunt.”

All you can focus on is the way his tongue is fucking into you with a force that has you seeing stars. He runs his soft tongue along your aching folds skillfully until all you can do is cry out for him. Mingyu smirks into your folds, fingers slowly massaging deep inside you. The wanton cries you’re letting out make him scissor his fingers so you’ll be prepped enough to take his cock.

When you look down and see Mingyu’s pretty eyes looking up at you with unadulterated desire, the coil building in your stomach abruptly snaps. Mingyu moans along with you as you come all over his face. His cock twitches against the sheets when you keep rocking your hips to grind your cunt into his mouth. With a low groan, he keeps going, using his tongue to fuck you through your orgasm.

You’re a panting mess by the time he pulls away. His chin is covered in your release, and you briefly wonder how someone can be so fucking attractive. Mingyu licks his lips before he smashes them on yours. The taste of your own release makes you moan into his mouth, loving how his lips feel against yours.

You chase his lips when he suddenly pulls away. It’s almost cruel of him to laugh when you whine petulantly after he doesn’t give you what you want. But you can’t truly be mad. Not when it concerns Mingyu.

“Are you ready?”

Your attention is quickly drawn to his throbbing cock. He can’t deny the pleasure it gives him to see you gaping at it. It makes Mingyu think about the face you’ll make when he’s splitting you open.

“It’s...” Huge. You swallow nervously. “Will it fit?”

You can’t take your eyes off his monstrous dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, smearing the precum dribbling from his fat tip all over his veiny length. You can only watch in fascination like you’re in a trance, pussy clenching in desire. The only dicks you’ve ever seen are the ones from porn, but even those don’t compare to how thick and pretty Mingyu’s looks.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Mingyu licks his lips, mind clouded with a lustful haze. “I’ll make it fit.”

The face you make when he uses your arousal to get his dick wet nearly makes him come right then and there. After years of fucking his fist to the thought of you, he finally has you underneath him looking more irresistible than ever.

“Ready, baby?” The pet name continues to fall from his lips so easily, and it’s making you unreasonably more horny than you already are. “Remember you can tell me to stop anytime.”

“Okay.” You breathe out in anticipation. Instead of being nervous, you’re just eager, and you know it’s because you’re doing this with Mingyu who actually cares about you.

Mingyu shudders in pleasure as he slowly sinks his leaking tip into your tight pussy. Your warm and wet and already gripping him so tightly that he wonders if he’ll come once he gets the rest of cock inside you. The choked gasp of pleasure you let out makes him throb with pride and arousal. Your pretty mouth is dropped open in a silent moan, and he has to swoop down to give you a sweet kiss.

You whimper into his mouth, starting to feel the stretch burn as he continues to slide in deeper. Mingyu pulls away to place tender kisses along your jaw, whispering into your heated skin about how good you’re taking him. A soft moan is pulled from your throat when he rubs gentle circles on your clit. It eases the sting, and soon enough pleasure cancels out the pain.

“G-Gyu.” You mewl as he finally bottoms out, heavy balls resting against your ass. “Fuck. Your cock is so big.”

Your fucked out whine makes his dick throb. Mingyu only offers you a shy chuckle, thumb still working your sensitive clit. Your hot cunt is pulsing and gripping him so tightly that he knows the slightest movement will have him busting inside you. And while that’s one thing he’s dreamed of for a long time, this was about your pleasure not his.

“Like it?” His voice is seductive and not teasing at all which just turns you on more. “Tell me, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”

His hips shift, and it makes his cock curve into your sweet spot that makes you arch your back. The moan you let out is louder this time, hips bucking in need. Your arousal is drenching his cock and spilling down to coat his heavy sack.

“Feels so fucking good, Gyu! Please move!” You whimper desperately as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Mingyu moans into your skin, hips moving upon your command. He starts to thrust in and out of your hot cunt with precise yet slow movements. His hands trail up to your bouncing tits, gently caressing and rubbing your hardened nipples. You moan again, turned on by how tenderly he’s touching you.

“Told you we’d make it fit, pretty.” His grin is so attractive that it makes you tighten impossibly and stain his cock with more cream.

Mingyu’s hips start to snap a little more desperately now. His cock seems to swell when he looks down to see how tightly you’re gripping him. Strings of arousal cling to your skin and his as he continues to stretch out your tight little cunt. His heavy balls slap against your ass as you continue to moan in pleasure.

“You’re dripping all over me, babe.” He grunts, feeling like he’s in heaven. “Am I making you feel that good?”

Just like outside the bedroom, Mingyu likes to be praised. Your heart swells with fondness, unable to believe how cute he can be even as he’s splitting you open on his cock. It makes you want to oblige him all the more.

“So fucking good, Gyu.” You moan wantonly as his cock continues to spear into you.

You’re sensitive, mewling and whining in pleasure as he snaps his hips at the perfect speed and intensity. Mingyu lets out a deep groan when your thighs start to quiver. Your eyes are rolling back as his cock keeps slamming against your sweet spot, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

“God, you’re pretty.” Mingyu moans as you squeeze his cock tighter. “Prettiest little thing ever.”

Your entire body heats up, and you can’t help but pull him down for a passionate kiss. Mingyu moans into your mouth. His soft lips move against yours with a need that makes you ravenous. You start to meet his thrusts, eager for more of him.

The sound of wet skin slapping fills the room, and you don’t ever want it to end. Mingyu’s mouth, hands, and cock are too addicting for you to ever want anything else. With the way his throbbing dick keeps fucking into you desperately, you’re pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

When he reluctantly pulls away from your sweet lips, he trails wet kisses down to your neck. You moan out his name when you feel him start to mark you up. The ache in his cock grows when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. Your sensual moans of his name sounds like music to his ears, and he knows he’ll be fucking his hand to the memory often.

Your orgasm is close, the coil in the pit on your stomach on the verge of snapping. All it takes is for his long fingers to smooth over your wet clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud for you to come undone. Your back arches off the mattress as you gush all over his cock with a loud cry of Mingyu’s name.

The erotic and breathtaking sight of you coming on his cock is something that leaves him breathless. It’s all Mingyu needs for his own orgasm to rip through him. He stills with a low groan of your name. You can feel his cock pulsate inside you as he shoots thick ropes of cum into your pussy. The two of you are moaning and whimpering as your walls spasm around his aching cock.

“That’s it, baby.” Mingyu moans as he rolls his hips to fuck you through both your highs.

You’re whimpering in pleasure, milking him for every last drop of cum he has. The way he fucks it back into you makes you feel delirious with pleasure, and your cunt gets tighter with need at the thought of doing it all over again.

Mingyu holds you close as you both pant—spent and satisfied. He gently coos at you, sweetly caressing your face as he keeps his cum plugged inside you with his still-throbbing cock.

“How was it, baby?” He wonders, big puppy dog eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You wrap your arms around his muscular back, bringing a hand up to gently play with his hair. The gentle hum you let out eases his worries. “You were amazing.”

The smile he gives you is bright and makes your chest jerk with affection. Mingyu gently caresses your body, telling you how good you were for him. It makes you burn for him all over again.

Before you can convince him to fuck you again, he gets up and goes into the bathroom. You watch curiously as he brings back a wet towel. It’s warm against your skin as he starts to clean you up. The act is somehow more intimate than him stuffing you full of cum, but you don’t hate it.

Once he’s done, he gets back into bed with you. It takes you by surprise when he pulls you on top of him. Mingyu caresses your naked back, basking in the feeling of your weight on him. His heart jumps when he feels you start to trace small patterns on his chest.

“Can we do that again?” Your voice is coy, and he really fucking loves it.

“Yes.” He promises. “I’ll order some takeout for us first then we can do it again. Unless you want to do it now.”

You stay silent for a moment before nuzzling your face his sculpted chest. With your eyes closed, you let out a content sigh. “Let’s just stay like this for a little while.”

Mingyu caresses your head with a love stricken smile you can’t see. “Okay.”

In retrospect, Minseo should’ve realized it sooner.

The signs were there—have always been there, apparently. It’s almost embarrassing that it took her so long to realize something was going on. Especially when she thinks back to the annual camping trip that took place a week ago.

It started off like all the other trips, except Mingyu insisted that you drive with him since he wouldn’t subject you to being a third wheel to his sister and Vernon. This was only the start of Mingyu’s unwarranted clinginess toward you. Minseo didn’t think too much of it because no one liked being the third wheel, and her brother always has a way of guilt tripping like no one’s business.

The campground looks beautiful covered in hues of red and yellow. Mingyu has brought along his camera and is already taking pictures and candids of everyone setting up their space. He especially captures some of you taking in the beautiful autumn scenery. You always looked so pretty when you had a look of awe and wonder on your face.

“I didn’t see you taking that many pictures of me.” Seungcheol teases as he peeks at the camera screen Mingyu is smiling fondly at.

His friend’s neck burns, and before he can think to say anything back, your voice grabs his attention. Seungcheol snickers quietly. It’s this simple action that Minseo’s attention again.

“Gyu.” You whine, holding up the tent you brought in frustration. “Help me.”

Her helpful brother goes over to you immediately like a puppy being called by its owner. Minseo should’ve thought more about the way he hands over his prized possession to Seungcheol like it’s nothing. The smitten smile he directs at you doesn’t seem that way to her in the moment, but again—hindsight.

Mingyu’s tone is playful as he asks you what you need. You don’t answer him because in the next second he tells you to follow the instructions in spite of the fact that he’s already starting to put the sticks together to actually lift the tent off the ground. Mingyu goes on to say that you should’ve gotten a smaller, one-person tent instead of a large dome tent big enough to fit five people inside.

“The guy at the store told me it would be easy to set up!” You whine with a frown. “And it’s not my fault the instructions are impossible to understand.”

Mingyu’s laughter is full of affection and adoration. He shakes his head fondly as he continues to build your tent for you. “You need to learn how to do these sorts of things.”

“Why? That’s why I have you.”

Once again, she should’ve thought more about the bashful look on Mingyu’s face and the way his ears and neck turned red. Instead, she chose to make sure that Vernon was setting up their own tent correctly because she had also bought one very similar to yours.

By the time everyone has their tents set up, the sun is starting to set. Mingyu helps Seungcheol start the fire while everyone else helps prepare the snacks and drinks.

The vibe is peaceful as you all settle around the fire. Mingyu claims the spot next to you, and you’re all too happy to have him by your side. It goes unnoticed, but now the image is clear in Minseo’s memories.

“Here.”

You look over to see Mingyu handing you a stick with a perfectly roasted marshmallow at the end of it. Maybe it’s the way the setting sun hits face or maybe it’s the fact that he was careful not to burn the marshmallow since you didn't like that. Either way your chest throbs with something you’re sure is not appropriate to feel for your best friend’s brother.

“Thanks, Gyu.” You smile at him before you start making your s’mores.

The night progresses like this, with Mingyu roasting your marshmallows and you happily making the s’mores. Vaguely, you wonder if it’s right to keep doing this with him. He’s so sweet and attentive that sometimes this line you’ve drawn gets blurry. The worst part is that you don’t mind if that line isn’t clear because being with Mingyu is like having a cup of hot cocoa when it’s cold—comforting and appealing.

For now, you decide to enjoy the moment. Evaluating feelings and this deep affection you feel would have to wait.

Fall has always been a special time for Mingyu. The leaves always change to beautiful red and golden colors, the weather turns the kind of crisp that’s invigorating, and it’s a time when family gets together. And possibly the most important reason: it’s the season when he met you.

He was only nine years old when you two met. It was a random autumn day meant to uphold the lifetime tradition of his parents taking him and Minseo to the pumpkin patch. Picking out pumpkins was something he looked forward to all year because it was a time where his entire family was together.

Mingyu vividly remembers being caught by surprise when his sister brought along an unexpected guest. She was holding the hand of a girl with a solemn expression that was a great contrast to her own bright one. Minseo cheerfully introduced the unknown girl as her best friend. You had offered him a barley-there wave that had him wondering how his sunshine of a sister could possibly like someone so closed off.

It was a misconception on his part because on the car ride to the pumpkin patch, he realizes his sister couldn’t have found a better friend. Minseo talks possibly more than he does, but you listened to every word attentively, like actually listen. Also, you offered her (and Mingyu after some shy contemplation) the snacks in your bag.

Your overly cautious attitude reminded Mingyu of his cousin’s unfriendly cat. Trying to get you to open up was a challenge, but you slowly started to warm up to him as the evening went on. He truly won you over after he offered to carry the heavy pumpkin you chose. The unsure pout you directed at him was adorable, and his heart just soared when you quietly thanked him.

“Here.” You huffed out, feeling embarrassingly shy as you stuck out your small hand.

Mingyu’s grin soothed the bashfulness. He thanked you for the candy you gave him, claiming that the caramel you put in his hand is his favorite.

Looking back on it, that was the first time you tugged on his heartstrings.

Of course, it was completely innocent back then. There was no way you could’ve known that Mingyu held on to that piece of candy for as long as he could until he forgot it in a pair of pants that his mom threw in the washer. Nor could you have known that as you two got older, it killed him just a little bit every time you referred to him as Minseo’s older brother.

These feelings don’t make sense in his mind, but it all becomes clear to him the fall of his junior year.

Just like all those years ago, you found yourself at the pumpkin patch. Except this time you don’t have either of the Kim siblings by your side. Minseo was hanging out with her almost-boyfriend and of course Mingyu hadn’t joined you two at the pumpkin patch for years now. You weren’t uncomfortable being alone, but it did feel odd picking out a pumpkin without Minseo inspecting it to make sure you picked one suited for carving.

In your lonely search, you meet Lee Chan. He too had been left alone after his friends went off with their respective partners. What you don’t realize is that your resident puppy boy is watching this kindred meeting from afar. Unbeknownst to you, Minseo had texted her older brother asking him to keep you company because she still felt sorry for leaving you alone.

At the time, Mingyu can’t explain why his chest feels strangely heavy. It feels like he can’t approach you despite knowing you wouldn’t be unhappy to see him. So he doesn’t even though it’s arguably one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do. Later that night, his mom helps him come to the conclusion that this icky feeling is none other than petty jealousy.

As a teenage boy who loved his little sister more than anything, this realization was devastating. It was very likely that Minseo would be upset if she ever found out her brother had a crush on her best friend. The fear of what would happen if his feelings ever came to light was the reason Mingyu decided to keep it a secret.

After all, it was just a small, harmless crush.

Unfortunately for Mingyu, this teeny tiny crush soon blossomed into something more intense that he’s not ready to acknowledge. Time goes by, and yet his feelings haven’t gone away even when he starts to date. It makes him feel icky, and most likely the reason why none of his relationships ever last.

When it’s time for him to leave for college, he thinks that maybe he can move on. Only, you never give him that chance.

“Why don’t you ever bring enough clothes?”

It might seem like Mingyu is scolding you, but he’s actually only worried that you seem to value fashion over practicality. Your heart jumps when he takes off the scarf he’s wearing to put it around you, making sure it covers your neck and looks pretty with the outfit you’ve chosen. He doesn’t seem to notice that your eyes shine with endearment as he adjusts it to cover your mouth.

“Come on.” He absentmindedly grabs your hand, not realizing his touch is making your heart pound. “The cafe is only open for another hour.”

Mingyu had insisted that this new cafe had drinks to die for. So he waited until you got off work to go with you together. You’re glad his scarf covers the lower half of your face because you’re sure every single emotion you feel for him would be very obvious as he hands you a warm cup.

Walking in silence with Mingyu isn’t ever uncomfortable, but it does leave you to contemplate how you’re going to confess to him. He’s been nothing but sweet to you, and you hope he won’t be upset at your sudden feelings since you’re the one who insisted the sex between you two would be strictly platonic.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

It kills you that Mingyu can look so pretty while he’s tilting his head at you curiously. You let out a nervous breath. It was now or never.

“You told Minseo you took my virginity.”

The air goes still, and you feel like smacking yourself because that’s not at all what you were planning to say—not like that, anyway. Mingyu’s eyes practically pop out of his head as he feels a blush crawl up his neck and suffuse throughout his face. You don’t seem angry, but he can’t really tell with his scarf covering your face.

“I’m sorry!” He rushes. “I didn’t mean to, but—”

“I’m not mad.” You assure him with a laugh.

“You’re not?”

“No.” You let out a fond laugh. “And Minseo isn’t either.”

Before Mingyu can fully process your words, you crush him with a hug. His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you and press himself closer to you.

“I like you, Mingyu.” You confess, feeling like your heart is on the verge of exploding. “I like you so much.”

He stills in your arms. Slowly, he pulls away to look at your face. His expression is one of pure shock, and before you can brace yourself for any kind of rejection, Mingyu is kissing you.

The movements of his soft lips are needy and full of undeniable want. You moan into his mouth, returning his kiss with just as much vigor. It all feels like a wonderful dream, especially when you whisper against his lips that you want to go back to your place.

If this is a dream, Mingyu wishes it could go on forever.

Having you kneeled between his parted thighs, worshipping his cock in the exact way he’s shown you how has him coming apart quickly. You’re slobbering all over him, saliva slipping down the sides of his dick to lubricate him.

“Fuck, Gyu. You have the prettiest cock ever.” You gush, entire body hot with arousal and want.

The way he actually blushes as you praise him has your cunt dripping with more juices. You can’t wait to wreck him and have him writhing in pleasure. His cock is throbbing as you continue to lick and stroke him with your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his leaking tip, licking into the slit which causes him to let out a guttural groan. The moans you let out run through the length of his dick in the most pleasurable way.

Mingyu feels completely fucked out at this point. He can’t believe how good you’ve gotten at sucking his cock. And now, he’s going to be the only man to experience what that pretty little mouth can do.

“Y/N, fuck.” He cries out as his orgasm abruptly hits.

As always, Mingyu looks absolutely breathtaking when he comes. His mouth is dropped open as a pretty blush covers his entire face. Dark eyes are unfocused and dazed as he keeps releasing thick ropes of cum into your mouth. The way you keep pumping and sucking him to squeeze more cum out of him is starting to make him tremble.

You pull off his cock with a satisfied grin. Mingyu’s chest is heaving as you go to straddle him.

“Wait!” He pants out, slowly coming out of his euphoric bliss. “It’s your turn—”

“I want you to fuck me now.”

Mingyu groans when he feels your creamy folds slide over his twitching cock. “But I really want to taste you.”

He’s so cute, you think as your cunt leaks with arousal. You hum in pleasure as you rub your aching cunt over the length of his dick. His fat tip is enveloped between your warm lips every time you grind forward while his heavy sack is slowly getting soaked with your arousal.

“Tell you what, puppy. After you fill me up with your cum I’ll let you eat it out of me, okay?”

You feel his cock throb at your words as your cream covers him entirely. Mingyu nods cutely, and that’s all you need to grab his pulsing cock. He’s hot and heavy in your hand as you tease him by circling his tip against your slick entrance.

Mingyu moans loudly when you sink down. A choked whimper is forced out of him as you take him entirely, puffy lips brushing against his pelvis. His thick veins drag against your hot walls deliciously until his heavy balls are flush against your ass. It’s like all the air is being shoved out of your body to make room for his cock.

“God, Y/N. I need you to move. Please.”

You slowly grind on his cock, juices dripping down to his big balls and making a mess all over him. It’s probably really hard for him not to fuck his cock up into you, and it really turns you on that he’s trying so hard. You can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. Literally you can feel it. His cock keeps throbbing inside you like it’s on the verge of exploding.

“Show me what I’ve taught you, baby.” His voice is sultry and tempting—something you can’t say no to.

Immediately, you start to gyrate your hips. You two moan in sync as your pussy clenches tightly on his cock. Mingyu sucks on his bottom lip, completely beginning to lose his composure. His hands go to your waist, slowly guiding you as his imploring eyes gaze up at you with unmatched desire.

“Fuck, Gyu!” You cry out. “You’re so deep!”

The sound of your pleased cry, Mingyu starts to move his hips to thrust up into you. He groans lowly because it feels like his aching cock is hitting the hilt of your sopping pussy. Your soft hands smooth over his naked torso, crying out his name as you feel every inch of his muscular chest.

“Mmmh, pretty girl.” Mingyu hums in pleasure as his big hands smooth down your body to grab your ass. “Fucking my cock just right. Feels so fucking good.”

When he starts to kiss and suck on your neck as his cock spears into you, the coil in your stomach snaps. You moan his name loudly as you come all over his dick. Loud squelching fills the room as he continues to bounce you on his lap. His thickness is stretching you deliciously, the unmistakable sound of his heavy balls smacking against your ass mixing in with your moans of pleasure.

Mingyu fucks into you a few more times before you feel his hot, thick cum spurt inside you. His euphoric moan is as pretty as ever, and you can’t help but move your hips to fuck him through his high.

You sag against him, and it’s silent for a moment until you bring your lips to his ear. “I want more of your cum, puppy.”

That’s how you find yourself on your side with Mingyu behind you. Your back is pressed against his beefy chest as he lifts your leg up to expose your soiled cunt to the cool air. He nuzzled his nose into your neck before he trails it up to your cheek. Your body shivers as his arm breath fans against your ear.

“Watch how your pretty pussy stretches open for me.”

You wonder what he means until his other hand lifts up your chin delicately to look at the full body mirror he bought for you a week ago after you told Minseo you wanted it. His fat cock is teasing your entrance, and the filthy sight makes your cunt flutter in need.

Without a word of warning, Mingyu thrusts his thick dick inside you, heavy sack flush against your creamy cunt. You whine out in pleasure, feeling completely full and stuffed to the brim. It’s impossible to look away from the mirror because you can see how tightly your pussy is gripping him.

Mingyu’s cock throbs inside you as his skin tingles with desire. He starts to thrust slowly. The lewd wet sound coming from your cunt is erotic as it fills your room. You moan again when the hand that isn’t spreading you open comes up to play with one of your tits. The sensations of his cock hitting your sweet spot while his fingers pinch and pull on your erect nipple have you close again.

If you weren’t so drunk on the pleasure Mingyu’s throbbing cock is providing you with, you’d tell him to let you record because the sight of him doing you like this is one you want to remember forever. His thrusts start to pick up as your moans get louder. He’s groaning into your ear as his fat tip slams against your cervix.

Mingyu pounding into you while in this positions feels like he’s tearing your pretty little pussy apart. He messily kisses your jaw as start to tremble in his hold, grunting when you tighten around him once again like you’re trying to milk him.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” Mingyu’s moan is low, but you hear it perfectly. “Sweet little pussy was made to take my cock.”

Your eyes roll back as you whimper out a nearly incoherent agreement. So lost in pleasure, you don’t realize your second orgasm is one thrust away.

“Mingyu!” You moan as your orgasm hits.

Juices spurt out obscenely and cover his entire cock and the sheets bellow you. Mingyu groans as he holds your legs wide open. He keeps fucking your messy cunt as you squirt all over him. All you can make out in your euphoric haze is Mingyu calling you pretty while his twitching cock keeps ramming deep into you.

“Fill me up.” You manage to mewl out as you turn your head to give him a sloppy kiss.

Mingyu moans into your mouth, thrusting into you deeply before he stills. He forces his tongue into your mouth as he floods your sloppy cunt with his cum. You swallow each others moans as he stuffs you full to the point where you can feel it leak out of you. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside you is one of your favorite feelings which is why you’re eager to feel it at least one more time.

It’s why Mingyu is quick to put you into a different position, your legs pressed into your chest as he rams his aching cock inside you once again. Your fucked out eyes are the prettiest, and he knows that he’ll never get tired of that stare. He loves how your gaze never loses the affection you feel for him. It makes him feel like you’ll never leave him.

“You feel so good, Gyu.” You whimper as his big cock spears into you.

Mingyu roughly pounds into your ruined cunt, not holding back since he’s determined to fill you up one last time. His cock throbs as your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Your pretty mewls and whines mix in perfectly with the sound of skin slapping. It only makes him fuck you harder.

His dick forces out an obscene amount of juices from your fluttering pussy. Mingyu is so deep that it almost feels like he’s in your guts. You always feel so full when he fucks you like this, and all you can feel is bolts of euphoria dancing across your skin.

“Come for me, pretty.” Mingyu urges sweetly as he hooks your legs over his shoulders. “Come all over my cock and cover me with your sweet cream.”

Somehow he feel just as deep from this angle. He keeps railing your tight cunt, splitting you open to fully claim you as his. Your senses go into overdrive when he slips his fingers down to your puffy clit to rub gentle circles. At this point you’re trembling beneath him, all thoughts gone as he thrust harder and deeper inside you.

Mingyu’s eyes are locked on the way your tight pussy swallows his thick cock. The way your cream covers him completely make him more ravenous. He’s hitting your spongy spot with mastered precision, and it only takes a few more thrusts for the coil in your stomach to snap.

Your moan is pornographic as your walls contract and your juices squirt out everywhere. Mingyu’s pace doesn’t falter as you cover him with your orgasm. He groans loudly, loving how you can only seem to chant his name.

“God, you look pretty when you come on my cock. So pretty. Every. Fucking. Time.” His words break off into a guttural groan that bounces off of the walls.

Hot streams of his seed flood your insides, stuffing you full until the white pours out from around the thickness of his cock. Mingyu slowly releases your legs and goes to give you a passionate kiss. His hips move slowly as he fucks his cum back into you. With one last peck he pulls away and slowly eases his cock out of your messy pussy.

You moan again when he suddenly starts to lap up the mess between your legs. You’re too fucked out to stop him. That, and you did say he could eat his cum out of your pussy after you were done (plus it just feels so fucking good). He licks and sucks on your clit until there’s nothing left to lap up.

When he crawls back up your body, your insides clench at the erotic sight of him licking his lips. “So fucking sweet.”

You pull him down for another kiss. The taste of you two mixed together is so filthy yet so addicting that you have to lick every inch of his mouth. Mingyu pulls you flush against him as he continues to kiss you like he never wants to breath again.

Minutes later, you two are still in your bed, cuddling and unwilling to separate from each other.

“This feels like a dream.” Mingyu sighs into your hair.

You hum, running your finger tips along his biceps. “It’s not a dream. I really do adore you, Kim Mingyu.”

He buries his face in your neck, mumbling into your heated skin that the adoration he has for you is endless.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors

#mingyu smut #svt smut #svthub #svthub.collab #kim mingyu smut #seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x you #mingyu fic #svt fic #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x you

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seokgyuu · 3 months

Text

What could be worse than a valentine’s day alone? Exactly, a valentine’s day spent with your academic rival, Jeon Wonwoo, stuck in the home eco’s kitchen because you were both sentenced to take over the cookie baking for this season’s day of love.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, smut, heart wrenching and tooth rotting fluff (wonwoo is down bad bad)

warnings: sexual content, smut warnings under cut! wonwoo is a little bit mean? but like not too mean? she’s also kinda mean. but they are in love! promise.

word count: 5k

a/n: hi everyone!! this is part of the cupids collab hosted by the wonderful @wongyuseokie for @svthub! this work is dedicated to the wonderful, the lovely, the hilarious @highvern! i hope you like it, babes!! sending you loads of love this valentine's day and thousands of kisses, mwah! i had loads of fun writing this and am happy to be a part of this collab, hehe. also thank you @ourdawnishotterthanourday for betaing, ily! <3

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move. “Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.” Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him. “Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.” “I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

smut warnings: minimal degradation (usage of the word “slut”), praising, pet names (princess, sweetheart, darling, pretty girl) oral (f. receiving), begging, softdom!wonwoo, unprotected sex (you know the drill - wrap it before you tap it, folks!), creampie (get it… cream…pie? cookies & cre- ok i’m sorry).

There are approximately seven thousand three hundred and twenty eight places you would rather be than here.

Nothing has helped you get out of this unfortunate situation. No pleading, no begging, not even wanting to send Seungkwan in your stead. Professor Yoon had been adamant in his decision to send you and him to this god forsaken home eco kitchen to bake the badge of cookies for the Valentine’s day sale.

“It’s not even a real holiday!” you had whined to Seungkwan, “if it were, we wouldn’t even be at class in the first place!”

All your best friend did was rub your back and tell you it was all gonna be fine, all while writing a text to Vernon on his phone in his other hand. He was used to your antics when it came to Jeon Wonwoo. Everyone was, at this point. Both of you had not made it hard to get used to - just by the amount of times you had decided to fight and dive right into rivalry when there was no reason to. Perhaps, he thought, it wasn’t even a bad idea to put you two in one room together for several hours with no one else. It could give you time to talk out your differences. Call for a truce. Screw the anger out of each other. Anything that would make Seungkwan’s life easier.

That day comes sooner than you wanted it to, and while your hand lays on the handle of the car door, you feel the uneasiness inside you raise.

“I can’t do this, Seungkwan. One of us is gonna end up dead.”

“Yeah, my money’s on Wonwoo. Please don’t disappoint me.” Seungkwan hums back, hands on the steering wheel and his eyebrows raised. You turn around, your mouth slightly agape before scoffing and opening the door.

“Pick me up at 4?” you ask and your best friend nods, waving at you once the door is closed. He truly hopes neither of you ends up dead (but if push comes to shove, obviously Wonwoo because then Vernon would owe him 5 bucks).

Professor Yoon had told you that all necessities would be at the university and that you wouldn’t have to bring anything except for a good mood, something you didn’t dare to say was impossible in the given situation.

You aren’t stupid (Wonwoo would beg to differ), you are well aware that your professor is trying to end whatever war you and Wonwoo have going on by pairing you up for this. And while you get the sentiment and might even appreciate it a little - you’re more than sure that nothing will ever come out of this - Wonwoo and you despise each other. It has been like this since your first semester and it most definitely wasn’t going to change over something as trivial as baking cookies together.

The home eco’s kitchen is in the basement of the economics building and you are happy to notice you’re the first to arrive. Smiling to yourself, you fish the key to the room out of your bag and unlock the door, walking in and turning on the lights.

The kitchen is spacious and modern, everything is made out of gray steel, with a few dark wood accents on the cupboards. You spot the boxes with ingredients on the island, and place your bag next to it before unpacking the things provided for you and Wonwoo. It becomes your mission to arrange the cookbook with the recipe in the center of the right side of the island, gathering all the needed ingredients around it in the order you would need it. Then, you search the cupboards for a big bowl, wooden spoon and a mixer.

You have gathered almost everything except for the mixer, spotting it in one of the higher cupboards you most definitely can’t reach without some sort of help. Biting down on your lip and gnawing on it, you look around the room, coming up empty. There are chairs in the room next to the kitchen, but you don’t have the key for it. With a sigh, you stretch yourself as much as you possibly can, hand reaching for the kitchen gadget - with no luck. Just when you’re about to climb on top of the counter, you feel something shift behind you, a body suddenly pressed against yours and an arm reaching up to grab the mixer for you without any trouble at all.

Wonwoo. Your body stiffens at his touch and only relaxes once he backs off, putting the mixer down next to the other stuff. Immediately you turn around, your eyes glaring at him.

“Someone decided to show up, after all.” You spit at him and he rolls his eyes.

“I was forced, if you must know.” He says not even looking at you. His eyes are focused on the ingredients on the counter, his lips slowly drawing into a smug smile.

“Control freak much?”

Your head burns and you scoff, walking over to the door and feeling his eyes on you as you move.

“I’m giving you one chance to get out of here,” you say, holding open the door. Wonwoo doesn’t move.

“Who says I’m the one who has to go? You’re obviously the worse baker.”

Oh, he is truly playing with you right now. You let the door fall shut, eyes squeezed as you stare at him.

“Fine. Then it’ll be me and you, buddy.”

“I guess so,” he pauses, eyebrow raising, “and I’m not your buddy.”

For the most part the two of you are quiet. Mainly because you don’t have anything to say to each other. You split the ingredients evenly (either one of you starting with their own batch since there is a whole lot of cookies to bake) and begin working on opposite ends of the kitchen. You get through the first batch without so much as exchanging looks. You do your thing and he does his. Only, when you get the first batch out, you ask him to hand you the oven mittens, which he does without any fuss. You’re surprised but don’t say it.

It’s when the both of you start to work on your second batches that things… change.

You hate to admit the tension in the room. In fact, you’ve been hating it since the first day you’ve met him. It’s a shame he’s so hot when he’s the absolute bane of your existence. Your friends (mainly Seungkwan, really) tease you about your obvious attraction to the man you call your archnemesis every chance they get, causing you to flip them off, or scoff, or just roll your eyes at how extremely wrong they are. If you could change it, you would! Finding him attractive whilst hating him truly is exhausting.

Slowly, you let yourself turn around in hopes he doesn’t notice. Thankfully, he is entirely focused on sprinkling chocolate chips into the cookies - white chocolate chips. You let out a gasp and your wooden spoon falls onto the top of the counter you’re working on.

“That’s cheating!” You shout, pointing at the package of sweets that he so obviously brought himself. What a jerk!

Not even looking at you, Wonwoo chuckles at your words, placing the chocolate chips next to him and wiping his hands on the apron he had put on earlier. Then, he turns to you, hip leaning against the counter, arms crossed and his eyebrows raised as he smirks like the douchebag you know he is.

“Cheating, yeah?” He repeats, licking his lips, “not sure it counts as cheating when it was clear from the beginning I would make better cookies, sweetheart.”

His condescending way of talking to you has always succeeded in making your blood boil, just like right now. You scoff, shaking your head and cleaning your own hands with a kitchen towel to your left.

“You know, considering these are for the day of love it is quite ironic Professor Yoon paired me with you, the person I hate the most.” You present Wonwoo with a honey dripping smile that couldn’t be more fake. Wonwoo doesn’t waver though. He just continues to smirk, his eyebrows shooting up even more, and before you know it he starts walking towards you, a click of his tongue almost making you flinch.

“See, love and hate are like siblings. While on the surface they couldn’t be more different, in their core they are irritatingly similar,” his voice is deep and his eyes are right there on yours and somehow you feel like he has taken away your ability to breathe. What the hell is he doing?

“You were always fascinating to me, darling. Always so sure of your opinion, never wavering. That first day we met, do you remember? How you were on my ass for the rest of the day because Professor Cha liked my answer better than yours?”

“He did not!” You shoot back, surprised by your own whiny tone. Looking at Wonwoo’s face, the defined jawline and cheekbones, the round specs on top of his nose and the brown soft curls falling into his forehead, you immediately regret speaking up at all. There is something in his eyes now, something you have never seen before - at least not on him. Something inside of him shifted, like a switch that had been flipped, and the way he looks at you makes all of your skin erupt in goosebumps.

“Ah, so I imagined things?” Wonwoo only so much as whispers, his large frame coming even closer, “Are you saying I’m a liar, pretty girl?”

Pretty girl. What the fuck? Your eyes widen and you feel your throat closing up. Absolutely not, you could not freeze right now! He was testing you, seeing how far he could go before you actually fell for whatever he was trying to do. Gathering all your confidence, you bring your hands up to place them on his chest and softly push him away. It gives you extreme satisfaction when you see the surprise on his face.

“And if I am? What are you going to do about it, Wonwoo?” Your smile turns smug and the little vein on Wonwoo’s forehead pops out just slightly. About to retrieve your arms, you are met with his hands around your wrists and his body even closer to yours.

To say he catches you by surprise would be an understatement. Your lower back is pressed against the counter, your hands in his grip and your lungs missing the necessary air to not get dizzy. Why does he smell so good? You catch yourself thinking thoughts you normally would try to suppress at any given time - especially when Wonwoo is right in front of you. This time, though, there is no escaping. Not with him so close, not with him staring right into your soul.

“I have learned one thing over the years we’ve known each other, Y/N,” he breathes, eyes not leaving your face, “you can be a real fucking brat.”

The gasp you want to let out gets stuck in your throat. Instead, something like a choke comes out, something that makes Wonwoo smirk and your legs weak.

“You really think you’re sly. Do you honestly believe I don’t know how attractive you find me? How you need to look away everytime I come in wearing tighter shirts or pants that hang low enough to see the waistband of my underwear? You always try to act like you hate me and, you know what, maybe you do, but what I said earlier isn’t wrong, darling, love and hate are like yin and yang - they can’t exist without the other.”

He has your wrists in a strong grip and his lower body is now pressed against yours, something you never realized you craved. Feeling his growing erection against you, knowing he is turned on by you, by the situation, you feel like your head is about to explode.

“So, what if I tell you that maybe I don’t actually hate you, but I actually find you attractive as well? What if I tell you nine out of ten times I want to shut your annoying mouth up by shoving my cock right down your tight throat? Or how whenever you bend over your desk to tell someone something you, of course, know better than them, I want to take you just like that and make everyone see just how much of a desperate pretty slut you actually are?”

You’re done for. With every word he’s saying, you can feel yourself actually becoming what he says you are. Desperate. The heat between your legs has turned into liquid in your panties, has turned into your heart beating at triple speed.

“Y-You can’t just say that!” You stutter, knowing full well he will just laugh at you. And he does. He laughs and he throws his head back and then he looks at you again, his eyes glinting with want that only gets emphasized by the hard cock pressing against you.

“Oh, sweet, sweet baby. Of course, I can,” he hums, finally letting go of one of your wrists to carefully tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “you’re so beautiful, especially when you’re flustered.”

He must be playing with you. It has to be one of his games. He wants you to give in, wants you to fall for this only to hold it over your head for the rest of your college life. His mixture of dominance and sweetness is about to give you whiplash, especially when he begins to caress your cheek and leans down, his breath hitting your cheek.

“We need to finish those cookies, Wonwoo.” The words are whispered and almost inaudible, but he hears you and he smiles.

“We’re alone in this basement, sweetheart. We’ve got all day to finish those cookies.” His hand wanders down, finding its place on your hip. You shiver slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips and when his nose bumps against yours, something tells you that maybe he is serious.

When he kisses you, you figure that something is correct. What’s supposed to start soft turns into something deep, and hot, and uncontrolled, right off the bat. Kissing Wonwoo feels like the only thing you had ever missed out on in life and now you finally got the chance to take what belongs to you. His lips are soft and his tongue is warm, pressing against yours and entangling it in a dance of fire. Your hands are in his hair and his are on your hips and you’re sitting on top of the counter with all of your ingredients pushed to the side, your wooden spoon falling to the floor when Wonwoo lifts you up.

As if on instinct, your legs wrap around him and you moan against his lips when his hands move up, groping your breasts through your shirt. He licks into your mouth, your fingers digging into his nape, nails dragging along his skin.

If you could see into Wonwoo’s brain you might have gotten scared. Not because he’s thinking actual scary thoughts but because of how many times he has imagined this. You’re always there, somewhere in his brain, your smile, your eyes, your laugh. And when he’s alone and can’t sleep you’re there too, but this time it’s how he thinks you’d sound when he’s inside of you, when he sucks on your neck and squeezes your tits. There hasn’t been a day since he met you that he hadn’t thought about you.

It’s a shame you immediately called him out to be your academic rival on that day because all Wonwoo wanted to do back then was to make you his girlfriend, basically falling in love with you at first sight. As cliché as it sounds, it’s even more cliché considering he just played along with you, acting like he hated you, riling you up during class in ways he would rather switch for moments like this one right now.

Never had he imagined he’d get you alone, especially considering how good you are at avoiding him. But when Professor Yoon had asked him to bake the cookies for the Valentine’s day sale - he couldn’t help but suggest you as his partner. Hours would be spent together in a kitchen, hours you had to spend with him.

He loves how right he was. How right he was about you giving in, about you finding him hot, about you wanting him. He loves the sounds you make when he begins kissing down your neck and when his hand wanders under your shirt and shoves away your bra to touch the breasts he had been dreaming about. He sucks marks onto your neck and feels himself grow harder with every passing second. There is nowhere on this earth he’d rather be than right here, between your legs.

“Been dying to do this, you know?” He mumbles against your neck, licking up to your earlobe and twitching in his pants when he feels you shivering under his touch.

“R-Really?” You whimper back and Wonwoo nods, both hands moving to your cheeks, lips back on yours in a heated, passionate kiss. He thinks that nothing will ever feel as good as kissing you.

“Yeah, baby, wanted to kiss you forever, fuck,” he moans when your fingers move underneath his shirt, when you touch his bare skin and all of him begins to burn.

“Wanted to touch you, taste you.” His words echo in your mind and you open your eyes, a horny daze in them that makes Wonwoo question his sanity. He moves down now, kissing your neck again and shoving your shirt up to kiss your stomach and breasts over your bra, nimble fingers opening the apron you had laced around your hips earlier.

“Can I taste you, pretty girl?” He asks then and you think you nod, at least you want to nod, but your head is clouded and you feel like you’re about to pass out. When he moves to get the apron off of you, focussing on opening your pants next, you figure you did in the end.

Having you half naked in front of him makes Wonwoo feel like he has reached the gates of heaven. Your pants are on the floor and your chest is heaving, eyes glossy as you watch Wonwoo move to the floor, his tall body still reaching the top of the counter when he kneels in front of you. He moves his arms, wrapping them around your thighs and pulling you closer, his nose tapping against your sensitive core the next second. With a gasp, your hands reach for his head of hair, grounding yourself in it as you stare down at the way he eyes your pussy as if he had never seen anything more delicious in his life.

When he moves your panties to the side, his finger softly gliding over your folds, you feel yourself shiver once more. You let out another whimper, biting down on your lip that feels hot and a little bruised after the way Wonwoo had kissed you.

“God, I can’t even tell you how many nights I’ve dreamt of this moment.” He kisses the inside of your thighs, making you moan quietly, fingers coating themselves in your juices, ready to please you.

Watching him is messing with your head in the best way possible. The way he looks at you, so full of endearment and adoration. How he touches you as if you’d break if he touched you too vehemently. He lets his tongue glide over your skin, moving until it reaches your dripping cunt, licking over your lips, tasting you for the first time. The moan he lets out has you digging your nails into his scalp, mouth dropped as you continue to stare down, continue to watch Wonwoo, your archnemesis, begin to devour your pussy like a Michelin star dish.

He starts off slow, licking over your folds, not touching your clit even once. If he died right now, he’d be content. Tasting you, hearing your sounds when you’re aroused, him being the cause of it - it’s almost all of his dreams coming true. His fingers move, one of them circling your entrance, your whines growing louder by the second. You want his fingers inside of you, you need them inside of you. Wiggling your hips against him, Wonwoo chuckles at your antics and finally moves his finger, inch by inch sinking into your needy hole, your eyes squeezing shut as you clench around him.

“So, so eager, princess,” he mumbles against your pussy, another breathy laugh causing you to thrust forward, his finger now completely inside of you. And, fuck, do you feel wonderful. So much better than anything Wonwoo had experienced before, better than anything he could have imagined. Perhaps, he figures, it’s because it’s you.

Next thing you know, Wonwoo’s lips are around your clit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue flicking against it and leaving you to moan his name time and time again. Your hips move against him and he lets you, his cock straining against his pants in desperate need for attention. But not yet, he isn’t done with you. First, you’d have to come undone on his tongue and his fingers, first you had to scream his name as you experienced complete and utter satisfaction. Wonwoo does everything in his power for that to happen. He adds another finger and fucks you open, his long fingers meeting your sweet spot with every thrust as if he had studied your body for hundreds of hours. His tongue does the work of a god, his lips kiss you like you had never known you needed to be kissed, especially down there.

“D-Don’t stop! Oh, fuck, Wonwoo!” You cry out, your head thrown back as you focus on nothing but your pleasure, on how he feels on your pussy, how it all is too much and yet not enough. You think about what’s to come, about how he will fuck you next, will sink into you with his cock, will make you feel like you’re the most precious woman on this planet. Even more than he already does. Your high is nearing, it’s so close you can feel it right there in front of you, that tight knot in your stomach about to break free and give you one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“Cum for me, baby. Fuck, I want you to cum on my tongue.” Wonwoo’s words are like magic, like a spell that he puts on you. A lewd whine escapes your throat and you do as he wishes, cumming all over his tongue and fingers, your juices drenching his face. He lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, anticipation filling him when he finally parts from you.

Immediately, you pull down to kiss him when he stands. Tasting yourself on his lips with your hands opening his apron and getting it off his tall frame with his help, you can’t wait to get even closer to him. You slip out of your panties with his lips steadily on yours, a faint sound in your ears when they hit the floor.

“Need you so bad, Wonwoo, please hurry,” you cry out and he laughs, kissing your neck and your cheek, his hands opening his belt, zipper and button, shoving his pants down only for you to gasp at the sheer size of his bulge. He grins, hands back on your face to make sure you’re looking at him.

“Naughty, aren’t you? My perfect, pretty slut,” he kisses your lips again and your eyes roll back, your pussy throbbing in want. And obviously he knows how much you want him - he wants you just the same. As he continues to kiss you, he moves to pull his briefs down, his hard erection springing free, angry tip red and smeared with pre, oh-so ready to sink into your warm embrace. You part from him, eyes now setting on his cock, your mouth watering at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re big,” you say, swallowing down the saliva pooling in your mouth. Wonwoo only grins wider, his big hands finding purchase on your hips as he leans down again.

“Beg a little for it, baby, and you might get it.” You shiver and bite down on your lip, your hands wandering over his still clothed torso and down to his cock, slowly wrapping your hand around it.

“Please, Wonwoo, please fuck me…,” is your whispered plead, and the man standing in between your legs groans against your neck, sucking yet another mark into your delicate skin before nodding and grabbing his cock out of your hand, lining it up perfectly with your entrance and slowly sinking in.

His forehead is leaned against yours when he bottoms out and his hands caress your head, coming to a stop on your nape.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, kissing the tip of your nose and you smile, giving the tip of his nose a kiss back. Then, he parts from you and the look in his eyes changes from soft to dark. He does his first thrust, catching you off guard, a loud moan escaping you. Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he continues his thrusts, fucking you deep and hard, his eyes focused on your face that contours in absolute bliss. When he said you’re beautiful, he meant it.

He is holding onto your hips again, pulling you as close to him as he can, his hips chasing yours, his cock in the deepest bits of your pussy, your gummy walls squeezing him for his pleasure. There is nothing you can do besides begging him to go faster, begging him to not ever stop and crying his name when he leans down to suck on your hard nipple over your shirt.

“Wonwoo! Fuck!” You clench over and over again, stars dancing in front of your eyes accompanied by beautiful lights that slowly but surely turn into fireworks. With every thrust of his hips, you feel yourself coming closer to the edge again. You want him to fill you, want him to claim you as his, make you feel full of him and only him. Nails are digging into his shoulders, your head falling back against the kitchen cabinet, his groans and the beautiful sound of your name coming out of his mouth chasing you off the cliff and into the warm waters of yet another intense orgasm.

“Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, oh- Wonwoo!” It’s done, you are done, your climax hitting you hard and making you gush all over his length that is still so deeply buried inside your sensitive cunt. Wonwoo moans, feeling your pussy clench around him, squeeze him, beg him to cum, to decorate you in his shades of white. And he wants to, god, there is nothing he had ever wanted more. His breathing becomes labored and he leans forward, engulfing you in yet another heated kiss, one arm wrapped around you, the other letting its hand rest on your cheek, thumb caressing your chin as his tongue flicks against yours over and over, mixed with his breathless moans.

When you squeeze him the next time, he erupts. He moans your name, hips becoming frantic as he shoots his load into you, spurts of white and hot cum filling your spent pussy, your and his combined releases dripping down your thighs even as he fucks his cum so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your mouth, continuing to kiss you right after, riding out his orgasm and only stopping when you’re both completely out of breath.

It’s silent for a few moments, the only thing audible your almost synchronized breathing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, his hands are still on your waist and your cheek. His face is buried in the crook of your neck and he softly kisses your sweaty skin, nothing but pure happiness running through him at this point. He softly caresses your face as he leans back again, his eyes searching for yours.

“Y/N,” he then breathes, a small and maybe even shy smile playing on his lips.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh back, pulling him into a hug that he accepts with a laugh, both his arms now fully wrapped around your body. He’s still inside of you and only leaves you when you part from the hug, more of his release now dripping out of your core. He doesn’t ask whether you’re on birth control because for all he cares he would love to have you pregnant with his child. The thought alone makes his head spin.

“Well,” he begins, a smug smile on his face as he leans down to pick up your panties, “that definitely gives ‘cookies and cream’ a different meaning.”

You stare at him, slightly bewildered, for around three seconds before you burst into laughter, grabbing your underwear from him and jumping back onto your shaky feet. “You’re horrible,” you say and shake your head and Wonwoo’s smile grows even wider.

“Maybe. But I promise you, sweetheart, I’ll never ever be horrible to you again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Mr. Know-It-All,” you smile and give his cheek a peck that he reacts to by turning bright red.

It is in that exact moment you realize Wonwoo was never your archnemesis. Nor has he ever been as much of an ass as you had made him out to be. Jeon Wonwoo is nothing but a loser who’s been in love with you since the very first day you met him, and perhaps you had always known. Perhaps you finally let yourself realize right now, the moment after he had cum inside of you and still blushes like a little kid when you kiss his cheek, that the only reason you had chosen him to be your rival was to run away from how much you knew you’d fall for him if you didn’t.

“Come on, let’s do what we actually came here for.”

And for the rest of the day you and Wonwoo bake the cookies for the sale and talk about what your plans are for Valentine’s. To no surprise those plans immediately involve hanging out together. Maybe, you think, to give ‘cookies and cream’ that new meaning over and over again.

1K notes · View notes

multi-kpop-fanfics · 5 months

Text

Cats and Coffee for Two

pairing: photgrapher/barista!Wonwoo x barista fem!reader (ft. other sebongs)

genre: fluff, comedy, coworkers to lovers!AU, mutual pining, smut - minors dni.

warnings: mentions of food, alcohol and cat hairs, mentions of headaches and insecurities

smut warnings: oral sex (f rec), unprotected sex (contraception is mentioned but wrap it), creampie, praise, use of petnames, body worship, semi-public sex, manhandling, marking, making out, aftercare

word count: 12.2k

summary: Job hunting is a tough sport and Wonwoo has experienced it to its core. One fine autumn day comes where he's finally free from the shackles of unemployment, but he will soon find himself in the shackles of coffee, tea and cat hairs, But most importantly, he will have to share these shackles with you.

Author's note: this is my entry for the fall-ing for you collab hosted by @svthub! another long piece written by yours truly lmao

p.s.: huge thank you to @bitchlessdino, @gyuwoncheol, @wongyuseokie, @onlymingyus, @wonwussy, @horanghater and @shuadotcom for helping me out with the fic in more ways than one💕

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.

“....We received your CV and cover letter. While your educational details are impressive, the lack of working experience does not make you a suitable candidate for the work position in our company.

We thank you for your time and effort, and we wish you the best of luck.”

“Well fuck off, autogenerated e-mail response.” Wonwoo grumbles and sends the mail straight to the trash bin with an annoyed huff.

Another job opportunity flushed down the drain, to the point where another headache punches its way into his skull.

He’s tired. He’s tired, drained and disappointed as fuck. He knew job hunting is a tough sport, but he didn’t expect to be kicked to the curb for such a long time. He was hoping to get a chance for an interview, but not even that?

It makes him wonder if the years he spent in college were worth it after all.

Wonwoo’s headache gets stronger, to the point he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. He closes his laptop and gets up from his seat, making a beeline to the cupboard where he stores his medical supplies.

He swallows a painkiller, followed by a generous gulp of water from a bottle, hoping it will soothe the pain soon enough.

He walks over to the couch, plopping down unceremoniously. His energy levels have dropped to absolute zero and the maroon colored couch pillow suddenly seems like a gift sent by the Heavens. He takes off his glasses and lays his head on the pillow, eyes closing shut within a few seconds.

Two hours later, his sweet slumber is disrupted by the familiar ringtone of his phone, but the noise doesn’t make him any less terrified.

“H-Hello?”

“Hi loser, it’s me, your professional emotional and mental support!” A bright voice echoes from the other end of the line.

Wonwoo checks the ID of the caller and groans when he sees Seokmin’s name.

“What is wrong with you, Seokmin?”

“Bold of you to ask that question.”

“I am serious, Seok. Haven’t you heard of afternoon naps?”

“Dude, it’s eight o’clock.”

Wonwoo checks his watch and sighs in disappointment. “Fuck, I overslept, damnit.”

“Just how long were you asleep for?”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. Why did you call me?”

“Oh I don’t know, because you’re my friend and I want to check up on you because you’ve been in a slump lately?”

“Damn, way to call me out, I guess.”

“If I don’t call you out, then who will?!”

“....Fair point.”

“Anyways, I’m planning to grab some drinks with Minghao in an hour.”

“Oh nice, hope you have fun.”

“And you’re coming with us.”

“No.”

“Oh come on! It won’t be anything wild, just the three of us drinking some alcohol!” Seokmin whines. “Please? Just this once?”

Wonwoo ponders over his friend’s request and grumbles from his end.

“Fine, if it means to make you hop off my ass, I guess.”

“What ass?”

“You know what, I changed my mi-”

“I’m just kidding!”

“You better be.”

“Okay okay, no need to get your claws out!”

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys in an hour.”

“Nice! Make sure to shower before getting out of the house.”

“Fuck you, Seokmin.”

Wonwoo ends the phone call and gets up from the couch, stretching his arms above his head. He takes a whiff from his shirt and he scrunches his eyes in disappointment.

“He’s right, I should take a shower.”

Wonwoo is glad he accepted Seokmin’s invitation, because he had no idea how much he needed this. Not that he would ever admit it.

“You seem less tense than earlier.” Minghao comments.

“It’s all thanks to the alcohol.”

“And the good company!” Seokmin butts in with his soju glass. “It’s okay to admit I was right.”

“And let it get to your head? No thank you.”

“Wonwoo is right, it will get to your head.”

“I hate you both!” Seokmin whines and downs his shot.

“Now that’s a lie and you know it.” The younger man deadpans.

Wonwoo watches the bickering between his friends, the rim of the soju glass resting on his bottom lip. But his mind is wicked enough to slip back into his own worries, his face frowning once more.

“Wonwoo? Are you okay?”

Minghao’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Hm? Yeah, all good.”

“Buddy, with all due respect, you were looking like your pet cat died or something.” Seokmin narrows his eyes.

“Fuck off, Salem is perfectly fine!” Wonwoo shivers.

“Are you still worried about finding a job?” Minghao asks, hitting the nail on the head.

“Well, how can I not be? I have been struggling ever since I graduated and all I’ve managed to do is photoshoots for stupid influencers!”

He realizes his voice was louder than it was supposed to be, judging from the side-eyeing glares he earned from other customers.

“Damn, you really had to stoop so low?” Seokmin scratches his head.

“Money makes the world go around, or something like that.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Minghao asks again.

“I don’t have enough work experience, let alone serious one, which means my CV doesn’t look very professional right now.”

“Hmm….”

“What?”

“I may have a solution to your problem.”

Wonwoo’s eyes go wide, his irises filling with hope.

“Do you remember Joshua? From the Social Relations department?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“He’s currently working at SVT Cat Cafe, he manages the paperwork and stuff. He could put in a few words for you, if you don’t mind.” Minghao sips the last of his soju.

“You should take the offer, Wonwoo! The cafe is really cute and you will love the kitties!” Seokmin grins excitedly.

“It’s…It sounds really good, to be honest. Almost too good to be true.” Wonwoo lets out a breath he was holding all this time.

“You can always check out their website and send your CV in their email address. They are still hiring people, so it’s a good chance.”

“Hao, I don’t know what to say, seriously.” Wonwoo laughs nervously.

“People usually say thank you.” Seokmin jokes.

“One more word and I’ll shove the entire soju bottle in your mouth, I swear.”

The view through the window is nothing short of idyllic, almost like the aesthetic images you see on Pinterest and Instagram. Maple leaves are dancing to the rhythm of the November winds, adding color to the dull concrete of the pavement, even if you know they won’t stay there for long.

You can’t say you’ve gotten used to the chilly weather, especially after your late vacation in Greece - it’s always too warm there, as you were warned beforehand. But you’re definitely glad you can enjoy a hot cup of coffee with cinnamon and chocolate sprinkles before the opening.

You hear tiny meows behind the mahogany counter and you walk in front of it, letting out a sigh when you pinpoint the source of the noises.

“Tofu, I swear to God.” You put the cup down and pick the white kitty in your arms. “I know you like roaming around but your cat hairs are invisible and I don’t want them in the beverages.”

The feline just tilts her head sideways and purrs in your arms, her green eyes staring at you, as if she is the most innocent creature in the universe (she is, most of the time).

“Your boba eyes aren’t working on me, missy. I know your true nature.”

Tofu responds with another meow, as if she’s asking you ‘who, me?’.

You go back and forth with the cat’s meows and purrs, utterly unaware of the presence of two men just a few feet away.

“Does that happen on a daily basis?” Wonwoo asks with a hushed voice.

“Yeah, with almost every single cat.” Joshua responds. “Although Tofu is her favorite.”

“I think I can see that.”

You hear a couple of whispers behind you and you turn your attention to the two men.

“Oh, Joshua! You’re early today.” You comment. “And who is the gentleman next to you?”

“U-Uh, hi. I’m Jeon Wonwoo.” The man fixes his glasses nervously.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N.” You stretch your arm, waiting for a handshake.

“L-Likewise.” Wonwoo hesitantly shakes your hand.

“Wonwoo will be the photographer for our social media accounts and official website, starting today.” Joshua adds.

“Oh, that’s great news!” You exclaim. “I promise you’ll have a wonderful time working here, Wonwoo.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Well, I’m afraid I have to take my leave now, business is calling.” Joshua announces after checking his watch. “Do not worry, Wonwoo. I’m leaving you in great hands. And paws.”

“See you later, Shua!” You bid your coworker farewell.

Tofu walks around Wonwoo’s legs and rubs herself all over him.

“I think she likes you.”

“You think so?” Wonwoo asks as he bends down to pet the cat, a fond smile on his face as the feline leans into his hand.

“She’s pretty picky with people, so seeing her so warm towards someone she has never seen before is pretty much a miracle.” You chuckle.

“Well, I should feel honored then.” He responds with a small smile.

“Would you like to order something? I could fix you a cup before the opening.”

“Um, could I have an iced americano then?”

“Wow, you’re brave.” You laugh in disbelief.

“What makes you say that?”

“You just ordered iced coffee in the middle of autumn. Does your throat have a death wish?” You put a few ice cubes in a plastic cup.

“Force of habit, I guess.” Wonwoo replies.

“That sounded very…moody.”

“Sorry, it wasn’t my intention…” He laces his fingers together and purses his lips together.

“You aren’t quite the extroverted one, are you?” You place the cup with the bitter liquid in front of him.

“Not really.”

“It’s okay! You will be able to overcome it with time.” You try to reassure him.

“If you say so.” Wonwoo takes a sip of his coffee. “I’ll go check out the rest of the cafe, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, feel free to explore a bit!” You smile at him while you wrap your apron around your waist.

“The coffee is really good, by the way.”

“Thank you! It’s my job, after all.”

Wonwoo searches for his wallet in his backpack, but you stop him before he finds it.

“It’s on the house, no need to pay for it.”

“But-”

“Good luck today, Wonwoo.”

“T-Thanks. You too, Y/N.”

He looks at you one last time before he goes to the open space of the cafe to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

The day progresses without any problems - if anything, the regular customers have already started gossiping about Wonwoo, although most of it revolves around his God-like facial features.

You kinda wish you were serving the coffee instead of making it behind the counter. At least you would have been able to see Wonwoo up close in action with his camera. But you can’t say you haven’t been stealing glances through the window that separates the two spaces of the cafe.

“Eyeing the new guy, are we now?” One of your coworkers leans on the counter in an attempt to gossip.

“Oh, shut up, Chan.”

“What? I’m just asking!”

“Define asking?”

“For someone who claims to be the sunshine type in this business, you’re pretty snappy right now.” The ashen-haired man snickers.

“I’m not snappy! It’s rush hour and I’m trying to focus on my job.” You defend yourself.

“It’s rush hour for everyone here, you’re not special, Y/N.”

“Either way, you’re not getting anything out of me, Chan.” You place two porcelain cups filled with hot chocolate. “Now get these to table four.”

“Vibe killer.” Chan grumbles under his breath as he places the cups on the disk.

“I heard that, shortie!”

“No cupcakes for you tomorrow!” He mocks you before disappearing into the outer space of the cafe.

You let out an exasperated sigh, followed by a short laugh and you return to the coffee machine, checking the orders you have received and start making them one by one.

While the cafe hasn’t been operating for long, you’ve been part of it since day one. You feel glad to be finally putting your barista working license to work and do something that you love dearly - blame your undying love for coffee and cats.

Chan was also one of the first employees who joined the team, but he’s on the service part and he’s damn good at it (even if he did break a couple of glasses on his first week). The regular patrons know him by name and he never fails to make them swoon over with just a single smile of his.

Chan is a sweetheart, but also a little shit when it comes to teasing you. Although he never once overstepped with teasing. But he always goes overboard with the treats he gets you from the bakery across the street. You still remember the six pieces of cinnamon rolls he got you two weeks ago and how persistent he was for you to eat them all (you ate them all eventually).

Late in the afternoon, your shift comes to an end and you hang your apron, starting to pack up your stuff. Wonwoo walks into the main area and starts dismantling his camera to put it back in its box.

“So, how did the first day go?” You attempt to strike conversation.

“It was….interesting, I suppose.” He shrugs.

“You sound a bit tired….”

“My social battery died about halfway through the shift, to be honest.” He admits with a heavy sigh. “At least the cats are sociable enough to let me pet them.”

“I think you should go home and get some rest.” You give him some advice.

“I don’t think rest is going to happen anytime soon, but thanks.” He zips up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. “Goodnight and see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He bids you farewell and disappears through the doors of the cafe.

Shame, he’s cute but so uptight, you think. It’s not like there’s anything else you can do right now, so you leave the cafe, locking it shut and you walk towards the bus station to catch your ride back home.

A while later, you’re laying in your bed under the covers and decide to scroll through your socials for a while before falling asleep. You open Instagram and check your notifications, your eyes zooming on the purple circle around the profile picture of the cat cafe.

You click on it and a smile creeps on your face when you see Wonwoo’s picture on one of the Instagram stories, tagging Wonwoo’s account and welcoming him to the team. Curiosity gets the better of you and you click on the tag, leading you to his personal account. You frown a bit when you notice it’s private, but you don’t hesitate to send him a following request.

You hope he won’t think you’re a creep or something. I mean, he can definitely recognize you from your profile picture, right?

To your luck, a notification pops up on the top part of your screen and you squeal when you realize that Wonwoo has followed you back.

You waste zero time to check the pictures he has posted over the years and you quickly understand that he’s not the type to show off his face. But the one thing that’s prominent in his account is the astronomical amount of breathtaking pictures from the places he has visited throughout his life. You break into a giggling fit when you click on a post with his cat and you read a few comments from his friends, lovingly making fun of his ‘cat dad’ tendencies. Your heart swells when you see more photos of him playing with a black cat and petting him until said cat slaps his hands away.

Now you know why Tofu liked him at first sight.

One week later.

Today is an off day for you and you plan to sleep until midday. But your boss has other plans.

You want to cuss at everything around you within a radius of ten kilometers when your phone rings and you rub your eyes to forcefully wake yourself up and answer the call.

“Good morning, Boss.”

“Good morning, Y/N. I’m sorry for calling you so early, but you need to come as soon as you can at the cafe.”

“Why is that? I mean, it’s my day off today.”

“I know, but I wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yoona just called me from the hospital, she had an accident yesterday.”

“What?!” You nearly jump out of the bed. “Is she okay?!”

“She’s out of harm's way, but her arm has suffered a fracture and she won’t be able to work for the next two months.”

“Oh my God….”

“We really need you here, Y/N.”

“Yes, yes of course. I’ll be there in half an hour.” You say and end the call.

You grumble and get out of the bed, your feet taking you to the bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Once you’re out, you go back to the bedroom and pick a hoodie with jeans to put on.

You walk out of your apartment and fasten your jacket around you, jogging to the bus station to catch your ride to work.

Twenty minutes later, you arrive at the cafe and you’re welcomed with a literal mess in the barista bench and a yelling Chan and a frustrated Wonwoo.

“This isn’t how you’re supposed to turn it!”

“And what do you know about coffee machines?!”

“All corks are manufactured to fasten towards a certain direction!.”

“You’re just a photographer, not an engineer!”

“And you’re just a waiter, not a barista!”

“Whoa, whoa! Both of you, get away from the machines!” You yell at them and shoo them away to get to work. “Jesus, what the hell did you do here?!”

“We were just trying to make the orders!” Chan defends himself.

“You could have just told the customers that coffee won’t be served until the barista is here!”

“That’s what I suggested as well, but he said ‘he knows better’.” Wonwoo shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s because I’ve been here longer than you!” The shorter man retorts.

“Sometimes, it’s productive to listen to other people’s ideas, they might help you in ways you could never imagine.” You sigh as your hands fiddle with the machine and check the orders one by one.

“Finally, someone with common sense.” Wonwoo points towards you. “At least some people know how to think in here.” He walks away and picks up his camera again, resuming his initial tasks.

“I can’t believe you took his side!” Chan complains to you.

“I didn’t take his side, our opinions just happened to collide!”

“Oh my God, you’re so into him, it actually sickens me.” The man fake gags.

“Can you stop bringing that up?! What if he listens?!” You whip your head around and glare at your friend.

“So you admit it! You have a crush on him!”

“Yeah I do. You can get your ‘detective of the year’ honorary badge now.” You groan.

“I- Ugh, whatever.”

“Look, Chan, I wasn’t even supposed to be here today. Please don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

Chan lets out a deep breath to calm down as he picks up the serving disk.

“I know, Y/N. I hope the remaining apple pie in the box will lighten up your mood and fill in your empty stomach. It’s freshly baked.”

“......You idiot.”

“I love you too, work wife.” He flashes you a grin and runs back to the customers.

You take a peek in the pastry box and the aroma of cinnamon and apples hits your nostrils like the early morning sunlight enters a cold room.

Your fingers don’t hesitate to dip in the box and pick a bite from the dessert, putting it in your mouth to eat it. You hum in approval when the sweet warmth envelopes your taste buds, giving you a much needed energy boost.

You return to your work at hand, completely unaware of Wonwoo’s eyes watching you like a hawk, an unreadable expression overcoming his features. The tuxedo cat jumping on the shelf next to his head snaps him out of it, letting out a cranky meow at him.

“What is it, Taro?” He raises his hand to pet her fur.

Taro meows back as she flops down on the surface to stretch herself out for more pets.

“Jealous of not giving you enough attention?”

She meows even louder this time, as if she’s saying yes.

“I’m sorry, your Highness.” Wonwoo ruffles her belly. “A man has to work to get by.”

Taro narrows her eyes, as if she’s doubting his words.

“Okay fine, I was looking at her! What are you gonna do about it?”

The cat raises her front paws in the air and Wonwoo lets out an airy laugh, positioning his camera towards the long-haired feline to capture her in a few poses.

“Hope those pictures will be enough for you to stop blackmailing me.”

Two weeks later.

God, these double shifts are fucking killing me, you mentally groan while sitting in one of the tables next to the cat trees. But it’s nice working early, since you get to come here and chill with the cats before opening time.

One of the resident cats jumps next to you, rubbing himself on your thigh.

“Good morning to you too, Dino Nugget. Did you sleep well?”

The orange cat jumps in your lap and sits in a loaf position without even asking you.

“Wow sir, it’s not even free real estate.” You laugh and run your hand over his fur.

He turns around and starts pawing at your hand, as if it’s a toy. He then opens his jaw to nibble at your finger, his teeth grazing your skin a bit harsher than usual.

“Ow, dude! That’s my hand, not your chew toy!” You yelp lightly.

You hear the clicking sound of a camera not far away from you and you snap your head to the source of the sound, your eyes falling on Wonwoo.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-”

“No no, it’s okay! You were just doing your job.” You wave your hand.

“Do you….mind if I sit with you?” He asks sheepishly.

“Of course not! I was about to ask you, actually.” You smile.

Wonwoo makes himself comfortable next to you, smiling towards the orange cat.

“You seem to have loosened up a bit.”

“Yeah. But moments like those are also nice.” He says. “It can get….hectic sometimes and I don’t always deal well with pressure.”

“That’s exactly why the kitties are here! They have this magic ability to take away the negativity from you.”

“Including this one?” He points towards Dino Nugget.

“Yeah. But he will try to bite you, no matter what.”

“Well, he’s an orange cat. What did you expect?” Wonwoo deadpans and you look at him with a shocked expression.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to-”

You cut him off with a laughter loud enough to scare Dino Nugget off your lap.

“You’re so serious about cats, it’s actually funny!” You admit between laughs.

“Of course I’m serious about them! And you aren’t?”

“I am! I just didn’t expect that random orange cat fact, y’know.”

“Oh, okay.” Wonwoo purses his lips.

Silence befalls the outer space.

“Great, now I made things awkward again.” He sighs in defeat.

“No, you didn’t! It was just…. well…”

“Awkward behaviour.”

“.....Yeah, actually.”

“God, Seokmin is so fucking right.” Wonwoo curses at himself.

“Who’s Seokmin?”

“One of my best friends and the bane of my existence. He has been pestering me about my lack of social skills and stuff like that.”

“I would say he sounds almost like Chan.”

“Seokmin doesn’t buy me pastries every day.”

“Did you just emit jealousy, Wonwoo?”

“No, I’m just stating the facts. I’m 100% sure he will show up today with another box of fresh desserts.”

“You can always get a bite from them.” You nudge his shoulder.

“I don’t think he would like that.”

“Why are you so negative about Chan?”

“I’m not negative! He’s just… you guys seem really close with each other, that’s all.”

“Wonwoo, we’re just friends! The work husband and wife thing is just for funsies!” You reassure him and his features soften almost immediately.

“If you say so.”

“Wonwoo, I’m being serious.”

“I know. I don’t mean to call you a liar or something.”

“Okay…” You trail off with an uncertain look written over your face.

Another moment of silence passes until Wonwoo speaks up again.

“How are you handling the double shifts?”

“Terribly. My sleep schedule has been fucked up and I don’t think I’ll be able to fix it any time soon.” You slouch in your seat.

“Any updates about the recruitment?”

“Absolutely nothing so far. Unless a miracle happens.” You scoff.

“Can you teach me how to make coffee then?” Wonwoo asks you and your eyes shoot up in surprise.

“I- Uhm, yeah I can, but why?”

“I want to help you.”

“With making coffee?!”

“Yes. What’s so weird about it?”

“N-Nothing! I just didn’t expect you to offer to help me.”

“The truth is that I haven’t been the best towards you, while you’ve been very warm and welcoming towards me since day one.” He admits while averting your gaze.

“But giving you extra work outside of your expertise is outrageous!”

“But I’m the one asking for it!”

A loud chirping sound comes from behind you and you notice Henry shooting a death glare at you for disrupting his beauty sleep.

“Go to sleep, Henry.” You roll your eyes at the tabby cat and the feline yawns before stretching his hind legs.

“So? What do you think?” Wonwoo asks you again.

You look at him and you can see a fire being ignited in his eyes, as if he really wants to do that.

You check your watch and look between Wonwoo and the inner space of the cafe, solidifying your decision.

“Get up.” You pat his back.

“Does that mean yes?”

“It means that you need to pay a lot of attention and catch up quickly. We have less than an hour and a half until the cafe opens.” You walk into the cafe and towards the barista counter.

Wonwoo goes towards the cat trees, smiling brightly towards the felines.

“Watch me learn how to brew coffee and win her over, okay?”

Two sharp knocks on the window wall snap him back to reality and he looks at you furiously waving at him to come inside.

Wonwoo jogs back in the cafe, joining you behind the counter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You put your hands on your waist.

“Uh, to watch you make coffee?”

“Rule number one: Never enter the barista area without lint-rolling your clothes first.” You point towards a shelf away from the counter, where a couple of lint rollers are.

“When did you even clean yourself up?” Wonwoo asks while running the roller over his hoodie and jeans.

“When you were talking to the cats.” You deadpan.

“Okay, my clothes are clean. Now what?”

“Rule number two: Always wear a barista apron while working behind your counter. We hang them right next to the window wall.”

He picks one of the aprons and puts the top strap around his neck, tying the lower one around his waist. You don’t miss the double loop and you wonder how slim his waist must be and how you hands would-

“What is rule number three?” His question cuts your train of thoughts and you try to get yourself together.

“Wash your hands thoroughly, of course.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The first steps of Wonwoo’s barista adventures go rather smoothly - he realizes he’s good at memorizing the various coffee blends. Handling the machine isn’t that much difficult, but it’s definitely not as easy as assembling his camera.

His eyes never leave your skilled hands, effortlessly maneuvering a glass under the machine, clicking the proper buttons to make a serve of espresso.

“That looked so easy, but something tells me it won’t be as easy as I think it is.” Wonwoo laughs awkwardly.

“It’s actually not very hard. You just have to be careful with the amount of coffee you will put in the portafilter.”

“Can I try now?”

“Don’t be impatient. You need to throw away the used shot and then purge the machine with water first.” You explain with a smile.

“Hm, okay. I think I can do that.”

He takes out the portafilter and disposes of the used espresso shot. He cleans the portafilter separately while running the machine with only water.

“Good job! It was smart to clean the portafilter during the machine run.”

“Thought it would save me time.”

“And you thought well. This can be really useful during rush hour.”

“What’s next?”

“You dry the filter and fill it in with the desired amount of espresso. But remember, it needs to be even!”

“Got that.” He grabs the bag of ground coffee and takes a few spoonfuls of the blend and puts it in the clean filter, tapping it on the counter to flatten the surface.

“Use the tamper to tamp it down and make it compact enough.” You remind him of the next step.

He wordlessly follows your tip and does exactly as you told him, locking the portafilter in the machine. He grabs a demitasse glass and places it under the machine and presses the button, watching the dark brown liquid flow into the cup.

“Congratulations, you just made your first cup of espresso!” You give him tiny claps and he smiles sheepishly.

“Moment of truth.” He breathes out and hands you over the glass to taste the coffee he made. You take a sip and allow your taste buds to absorb the rich flavor.

“Not bad for the first time!” You hum in satisfaction.

“Thank God, I thought I would poison you or something.” Wonwoo lets out a heavy breath.

“Why are you so critical of yourself?”

“I have been classified as a kitchen hazard.”

“Well, this isn’t a kitchen, as you can see.”

“But still-”

“No buts. You asked to learn how to make coffee and you have to accept that you’re going to make mistakes in the process.”

“I know, but it’s kinda scary.”

“It was scary for you to work among so many people the first week, but you didn’t give up, did you?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I am doing it for the cats, Y/N.”

“If that’s what makes your boat float, then who am I to disagree?” You laugh and clean the machine all over again.

The words die down in Wonwoo’s throat and he tries to find something to occupy himself with.

“You don’t have to do anything else around here now.” You tell him.

“Oh. Was that all?” His voice comes out almost disappointed.

“Only for now. It’s not like we have a lot of time left until customers start coming in and I would hate to throw you in the den of wolves right away. Besides, your friends seem to miss you already.” You turn your head to the window wall and Wonwoo follows suit, breaking out in laughter when he sees Dino Nugget scratching against the window.

“Oh my God, not him again.”

“Hey, don’t be mean to him!”

“Y/N, he literally bit you an hour ago.”

“He’s just an orange cat - or so you said. He’s also Chan’s fave.”

“Well too bad I already have a fave.” Wonwoo unties his apron and hangs it.

“Ooh, who is it?” You ask with curiosity.

“That’s my secret.”

“Okay mister secretive.” You scoff lightly.

Secretive. What a great word to describe me, Wonwoo thinks with a tight-lipped smile that fights to become a grin when he returns to the cafe cats, sitting down on one of the tables to fiddle with his camera.

He skims through the picture he has taken so far, stopping at the one where Dino Nugget is in your lap and you’re petting him with a loving smile on his face.

As if on cue, Tofu tip toes her way next to Wonwoo and puts her paw over his hand, raising her body on her hind legs.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

The feline purrs loudly and rubs her head on the back of his hand.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

Hours later, at Joshua’s place.

“So you’re telling me that Wonwoo is smitten with Y/N?”

“Yeah! You have to trust me on this, Shua, I just know it!” Chan repeatedly taps his soju glass on the table.

“Okay, but why are you so pressed about it?”

“Because none of them are doing anything about it! And I hate mutual pining with a burning passion!”

“Sounds like you’re scared of losing your work wife to me.” Joshua smirks in his glass.

“I’m not scared! I just want to look out for her!”

“As her work husband?”

“And her bestie, duh!”

“You’re so dramatic about this.”

“And you’re so nonchalant about this!”

“It’s their business, not mine, Chan!”

“And since when do you not care about gossip, Joshua?” The younger man raises his eyebrow.

“Don’t you see I’m making an effort to stay gossip-free?” Joshua whines in defeat.

“And it’s failing miserably.”

The older man sighs and drinks a bit of his soju. “Yeah, it fucking did.”

“What, you know things I don’t?”

“Let’s just say that running the HR of an establishment grants you perks that someone like you doesn’t have.”

“Just tell me already! I wasn’t there today, come on!”

“Wonwoo and Y/N were both seen behind the barista counter today.”

“Okay….Maybe he was taking pics of her during the deed? Y’know, for promotion purposes?”

“You don’t understand - Y/N was showing him how to operate the coffee machine. He even managed to make a few batches of espresso.”

Chan chokes on alcohol and starts coughing loudly, smacking his chest.

“Whoa, whoa, breathe!” Joshua offers him a glass of water. “I didn’t mean to kill you!”

“Well - gah - I certainly felt like dying!” He gasps for breath. “But - How? When did things escalate so fast?!”

“From what I’ve heard, Wonwoo wanted to help Y/N until someone applies for the position and Boss agreed to it, as long as he’s under Y/N’s supervision.”

“Fuck this, I can help her too!”

“Bitch you don’t even know which way the corks turn!” Joshua laughs.

“Fuck you too, Hong!”

“You know, this could work in their favor. And yours, eventually.”

“How?”

“They will get to spend more time together and grow closer, you idiot!”

“Well yeah, but that also depends on whether one of the two will fuck up the process or not!” Chan retorts.

“Just….have some faith, okay?” Joshua tries to convince him.

“If you say so, I guess.”

Two months later.

“Did you have a secret glow up or something?” Seokmin scans Wonwoo from the top to the bottom.

“You can just admit you were checking me out.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes.

“As long as the right person isn’t checking you out, my eyes don’t matter, friend.”

“Oh my God, just say you want to talk about Y/N.”

“Yes I fucking do, because she’s clearly the reason you’ve changed!” Seokmin slams his hands on the table. “And for the better!”

“I don’t feel like I’ve undergone any drastic changes, though.”

“That’s because you’re extremely harsh on yourself and refuse to see the truth!”

“And the truth is?”

Seokmin grunts in disappointment. “That you are head over heels for Y/N, you idiot.”

“And what if I am? I mean, she hasn’t really shown any real interest towards me.” Wonwoo shrugs.

“Dude, she has literally taken you under her wing and taught you how to make coffee! While she was swamped with work!”

“I just wanted to help her, she was doing double shifts for two weeks straight!”

“And I’m more than sure that she likes you even more because of that!”

“I was just trying to be nice, just like that.”

“Wonwoo, nobody is nice just like that. Everyone has their own agendas.” Seokmin smirks. “It all boils down to the benefits these agendas hold. And yours is going to benefit a lot of people.”

“Let’s say you’re right then. Why didn’t she just confess? She’s like, the definition of an extrovert.”

“Not everyone has the guts or lack of tact to just go to their crush and confess their feelings to them, you know.”

“How can you be so sure that Y/N has a crush on me?”

“I’m going to ask you a few questions and I want you to answer them truthfully.” Seokmin puts his palms together.

“Yes, dear therapist.” Wonwoo crosses his arms in front of his chest and mocks his friend.

“Does she know your coffee order?”

“Yeah, but she knows the coffee order of most regulars, it’s her job.”

“Fair point, but does she make coffee for you during work and accompany it with a snack?”

Wonwoo racks his brain for instances that match Seokmin’s question and to his surprise, he recalls a lot of them.

“You don’t even have to say anything, I can see the answer written all over your face.”

“Is that even enough to count as proof?”

“I’m not done yet.” Seokmin takes a sip of water to clear his throat. “Moving on to my next question - does she ask you about your day, how did you sleep and stuff like that?”

“Yeah, but that’s basic human decency.”

“Ugh, whatever. Have you ever complimented her appearance? Like, ‘Hey, that color looks very pretty on you!’ or something like that?”

“.....No.” Wonwoo replies with an awkward expression.

Seokmin rolls his eyes and drags his palms over his face dramatically.

“Why are you acting like this?! I’m not ignoring her on purpose!”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything?!”

“How can I do something when she’s so pretty and popular and a fucking sunshine and I’m….this?” Wonwoo vaguely gestures at himself.

Seokmin sighs audibly and rests his elbows on the table. “Can you tell me what’s really going on? Because I am not buying the shit you’ve said so far.”

Wonwoo’s expression turns bitter the moment Seokmin calls him out.

“There’s a contender?”

“Yeah, that fucking dipshit called Chan. He never misses a chance to show off that stupid smile of his to everyone and call himself Y/N’s ‘work husband’. He has the audacity to buy her snacks whenever their shifts overlap!”

“Oh my God.” Seokmin bursts out in laughter.

“I’m sharing my problems with you and you’re laughing?”

“I am laughing because you’re green with jealousy!”

“I- I’m not jealous! I’m just stating the facts here! Nothing more and nothing less.”

“Wonwoo, it’s just you and me here, you can be honest.”

“I- Fine, I am jealous of that short bitch and the relationship he has with Y/N.”

“And that’s fine! But you also need to keep in mind that Y/N probably knows this Chan guy longer than she knows you, so it’s kind of natural to have a closer relationship with him.”

“You are not helping right now, Seok.”

Silence befalls the two friends as they pick on the leftovers of their food, contemplating their discussion.

“Something just popped into my head.” Seokmin speaks up again.

“It better not be another brain fart of yours.” Wonwoo grimaces.

“You should go to work tomorrow with your motorbike!”

“Okay. And?”

“And….You should dress up a tad bit fancier for once.”

“Why should I even-”

“Shhhhhhh, just… Just do as I say, okay? Now zip it, I wasn’t finished yet.” Seokmin shushes him. “Let me think…. a white button-up and those dark blue wide leg jeans you have?”

“What about those?”

“You’re wearing them tomorrow. No questions asked.”

“Seokmin, it’s the middle of November, I’m gonna freeze to death.”

“You’re gonna wear a heavy jacket on top, you idiot. Besides, it won’t be that cold tomorrow.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Ever heard of weather forecasts?”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m not the one you want to fuck, let’s be real here.” Seokmin smirks and Wonwoo throws a fried potato at him.

“I swear to God, if I end up making a fool of myself or catching a cold, you won’t hear from me ever again.”

“Cool, does that mean I get to adopt Salem after your death?”

“Keep your grimy hands off my cat, bitch.”

“I will, because you’ll be alive and Y/N will be in your arms within the span of….twenty four hours. Maybe less, if you play your cards right.” Seokmin winks.

“Has anyone ever told you that you look scary when you have something specific in mind?”

“You can just admit you like it when I look scary because it makes me even sexier.”

“You’re fucking gross.”

Wonwoo wakes up at 7:30 sharp, as always. But today is different - today is the day he finally confesses to you. Blame Seokmin’s idea, blame Chan’s behavior towards you, blame his own cowardice - whatever the reason is, Wonwoo is dead set on achieving his goal today.

He opens his closet and skims through his clothes until he finds the ones Seokmin specifically told him to wear.

He’s worried he might catch a cold with just a white button down and jeans, but there’s always his trusty fuzzy jacket - the cold never passes through that and it definitely won’t pass now, no matter what he’s wearing underneath.

The thought of wearing this particular outfit to work in order to impress you makes him feel stupid and giddy at the same time, as if he’s the nerdy highschooler in love with the pretty girl of the class.

“How damn cliché.” He chuckles to himself and takes out the clothes to hang them in front of the closet. He goes to the bathroom, jumping in the shower for a quick refreshment. It only takes him five minutes to wash his hair and body, wrapping a towel around his waist. He takes a quick look at himself in the mirror and nods in satisfaction.

The gym has definitely paid off, he thinks and grabs the hair dryer to dry his hair. Once he’s done, he chooses to lightly run his fingers through them, not wanting to disrupt the curly form.

He returns to the bedroom to put on his clothes, humming in approval when he sees his reflection in the full body mirror. He spritzes his favorite perfume all over him and wears his horn-rimmed glasses to complete the look and wears his jacket on top to keep himself warm.

He really doesn’t want to admit it, but Seokmin might be right on the money this time.

He’s about to leave when his eyes fall on the spare helmet he keeps in the corner of his closet and decides to take it with him - in case the plan works out, he wants to keep you safe while you’re riding with him on his bike.

He just hopes you aren’t afraid of motorbikes.

Salem walks in the bedroom and meows at Wonwoo to get his attention.

“Hi buddy. How do I look?”

The cat purrs loudly as he rubs himself on Wonwoo’s jeans.

“Thanks for the approval. I hope Y/N approves too.”

Salem meows again and paws on his dad’s leg.

“I’ll see you later, pal. Hopefully with some pretty company.”

“So it’s official?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Yoona has completed her rehab, but she has decided to move out of Seoul.” Your boss notifies you.

“I see…” You think and mixed feelings wash over you. You’re sad that Yoona is leaving so soon, but that also means you’ll get to spend even more time with Wonwoo behind the barista counter.

“But on the bright side, we managed to get a new employee!”

“W-What? When did that happen?”

“Just yesterday! I asked them if they could start soon and they will be here tomorrow morning.” Your boss grins widely. “Can I count on you to show them the ropes?”

“Oh, um, yeah, of course!” You form a fake smile.

“Great! You’ll get an extra this month for this, do not worry about that.”

“I appreciate it, Boss.”

The lady walks away and your shoulders slouch in defeat, your dreams of watching Wonwoo’s forearms operate the coffee machine.

“A penny for your thoughts, wife?” Chan comes up to the counter.

“A penny might be too little for the amount of thoughts I have, Chan.”

“You don’t seem excited today.”

“Boss just told me that Yoona is leaving and we already have a replacement for her.” You frown.

“I know you’re sad you probably won’t see Yoona again, but at least you won’t have to work overtime again!” Chan tries to lift your mood.

“That’s not the only problem, Chan.”

“What is it then- Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Well, I mean…It’s not like you won’t see him ever again.”

“But it’s not the same!”

“Oh my God, can you just confess already?! I’m tired of this rom-com!” Chan whines.

“You know what?” Your mouth falls open. “I might do it today.”

“Finally! But why is your mouth hanging like that?”

You point towards the door and Wonwoo who walks inside, looking like the male lead of a k-drama.

“Can you please close your mouth? A fly could enter and you could choke.” He snickers and you slap his arm.

“Good morning!” Wonwoo greets the two of you with a bright smile.

“Good morning Wonwoo! You seem to be in a good mood today.”

“Yeah, you could say that. By the way, I bought you some honey cupcakes.” He puts the pastry box on the counter and he walks next to you to wear his apron.

“What?! They told me they had run out today!” Chan is flabbergasted.

“Well, you weren’t lucky enough to catch the fresh batch, Channie.” Wonwoo smirks and the younger man grimaces and almost slams the water glasses on his disk.

“Who are you and what have you done to the Wonwoo I know?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I am him. Just a bit elevated.” He puffs out his chest ever so slightly.

“Does the elevation come with a brand new motorbike?”

“Oh that? I already had it, but it was under repair for a good chunk of time.”

“But now you can ride it again, right?”

“Of course! Otherwise I wouldn’t be here now.”

“It looks really cool by the way.”

“The motorbike?”

“Everything, actually.”

“Everything?” He tilts his head sideways.

You clear your throat. “By the way, Boss told me we’re getting a new barista tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see.” He replies with a monotonous voice. “So no more sessions?”

“Yeah, pretty much. But I’m sure you probably miss your camera.”

“It’s not like I wasn’t touching it at all. Besides, working with you is really fun.”

“Not anymore, since it’s the last day today.”

“Well then, we should make the most of it, right?” He looks at you with a swirling mix of warmth and seduction.

“B-Be careful with the cinnamon, you don’t want to overdo it.” You stammer over your words, turning your head away.

“Yes ma’am.” Wonwoo chuckles, not missing the light flush over your cheeks as he resumes his task.

As if your brains are connected to the same thinking bubble, they both repeat the same phrase over and over again.

This is going smoother than cream.

“Is it legal to do this?” Wonwoo asks with uncertainty.

“Relax, we’re not gonna commit crimes. We can just say we stayed behind to clean up! Not that anyone will care that we made two cups of coffee.” You reassure him.

“But the machine isn’t on. How are you going to make coffee without it?”

You flash a warm smile. “This is exactly why I wanted it to be the two of us.”

You search under the counter for a few seconds and you pull out a black box that has been tightly sealed. You open it carefully and take out a coffee pot made of copper, a sealed bag of coffee blend and a mini gas heater.

“What is all this?” Wonwoo’s curiosity is piqued.

“This is something I learned during my vacation in Greece. I will show you how to make traditional Greek coffee.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen and he finds himself walking behind the counter and right next to you.

You open the sealed bag and the rich aroma quickly spreads in the air, satisfied hums echoing in the silent cafe.

“You get it now, don’t you?”

“It smells so good.”

“Wait until you actually taste it.” You giggle.

“Judging from the tools, it must be hard to make it.”

“You’re not entirely wrong.” You fill the coffee pot with cold water. “It requires a lot of technique and “meraki”, as the locals usually call it.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s the love and passion poured in the coffee brewing process. Even if it’s served as a product to a customer, it’s always created with fine motions and the hope of conveying said effort to the customer through a cup of Greek coffee.”

“This sounds more like a confession of love to me.” Wonwoo comments and you are happy the lighting is dim enough to hide the creeping blush on your cheeks.

“Well, that’s one way to put it.” You set the coffee pot on the table and take out two small porcelain cups from the box.

“That’s really pretty.”

“Thanks. I got them as a souvenir from a local shop, along with the briki.”

“The what?”

“That’s the greek word for the coffee pot! They use this specific one because it’s the best at storing the heat in its walls and allowing the coffee to roast slowly.”

“I stand corrected. This is a ritual of love, not just a confession.” He chuckles at your excitement.

That’s why I’m doing it, you four-eyed hot bastard! You mentally scream but keep your smiley facade on.

“Why did you get only two of these?” He keeps asking you questions.

“The old lady at the shop had made only two of those.” You explain. “But she did think I was buying it for my boyfriend and myself.” You end your sentence with an awkward laugh.

“I think that’s adorable, Y/N.” He rests his hand on his palm, almost

“It would be, if I had a real boyfriend.”

“Well, you can always share a cup with your work husband.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Are you jealous, Wonwoo?”

“Me? No, not at all.” He brushes it off. “I just mentioned Chan because you’re really close to him.”

“Hmm, if you say so.” You shrug.

A beat of awkward silence passes and Wonwoo attempts to shift the mood to his favor.

“Can you guide me? Making the coffee, I mean.” He almost stutters.

“O-Oh, of course I can!” You slide behind him and watch him tighten his apron around his slender waist. Since when did he have such a slender waist?!

He picks up a teaspoon and puts four spoonfuls in the water, turning on the heat.

“The heat should be medium to low. Stir it only at the beginning and then let it heat through.”

He gives the coffee a few stirs to evenly spread the blend in the water, until it starts heating up.

“Be careful not to stir the coffee all the time, while it is roasting. Give a little bit more love and attention to create the right amount of kaimaki.” You give him gentle directions and he follows them to the last detail.

“What is kaimaki?”

“It’s the creamy foam that forms on top of the coffee after brewing it.”

“It’s dark brown because of the blend?”

“Exactly. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?” You give him a sly smile.

“I have a great teacher.” He reciprocates the smile and your heart skips a bit for the umpteenth time today.

Watching him brew such a difficult type of coffee with his sleeves rolled up and his deft hands carefully looking at the kaimaki makes the butterflies in your stomach dance like a hurricane.

Everything feels so intimate - from the cafe itself to the set of porcelain cups you bought as a memento from Greece, the words of the old lady who thought you bought them for a lover echoing in your head once again.

“I am turning the gas off now.” Wonwoo announces and you nod affirmatively. He does as he said and picks up the briki, but he accidentally touches the side of it and almost burns his hand.

“Fuck!”

“Wonwoo!” You gasp and immediately grasp his hands, knocking down the coffee and spilling it over the counter. “Are your hands okay?!”

“I’m okay, but-”

“Oh shit.” You curse and grab a bunch of paper towels to wipe the spilled coffee before it seeps into the wood.

He notices the coffee reaching up to the base of the cups and he picks them up, putting them in the sink to wash them. He washes and dries them thoroughly, followed by the copper coffee pot.

Hurried movements and a curse of strings are heard through the glass wall, the eyes of multiple cats staring at the two of you trying to clean up the mess you made.

After a few minutes, the counter looks as good as new, but both of you look frustrated and even more tired than before.

“Well, this was an ordeal.” You let out a huff as you throw the wasted paper towels in the bin and hang your apron next to the others.

“Y/N, I am really sorry.” Wonwoo sulks, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“Wonu, it’s okay! It was just an accident, accidents happen all the time here.” You try to make him feel better.

“But you were looking forward to this-”

“Wonwoo.” You stop him from completing his sentence. “It’s okay. I am not mad at you.” You gingerly hold his face with your hands, the rate of your heart reaching Mach speed because of the heat on his skin.

You realize you’re too close for comfort and retract your hands, scared you might have overstepped his boundaries.

“Don’t.”

Wonwoo holds your wrists with his hands and gently places them on his chest. He can feel your fingertips almost trembling, the tension skyrocketing.

“Wonu, I don’t understand-”

He gently holds the side of your neck and kisses you with the desire he was holding for the past two months. He lets go of his uncertainty and embraces his feelings for you, expressing them through this kiss.

It feels like you’re in a fever dream, every fiber of your existence is standing on the edge of inferno and you don’t want it to stop. Yet his mouth feels like an oasis - and you won’t let anything separate you from it.

You let out a whine when Wonwoo breaks the kiss, but you shudder when he rips his glasses off his face and lifts you up to put you on top of the counter.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to feel your touch on me, Y/N.” He rasps. “You’ve been plaguing my thoughts ever since I met you and I just couldn’t-”

You cut him off by pulling the collar of his shirt and smash your lips on him again, seizing control this time. You wrap your legs around his waist and jerk his body forward, colliding with your chest.

Your hands are deeply rooted in his permed locks, raking your nails on his scalp. He’s no better than you, his palms glued to your thighs.

“I’ve been feeling the exact same way, Wonu.” You moan against his mouth.

“God, please don’t stop calling me that.”

“I had no intention of stopping, Wonu.”

He breaks the kiss again and pushes you on your back, planting his hands on each side of your head.

“Please tell me you want this.” He begs you. “I want, need to touch you, take care of you, fucking worship you.”

“Do it. Please do it, Wonu, I need you so bad.”

He lets out a shaky breath and unbuttons the first three buttons of his shirt and bunches up your sweater to reveal the hem of your jeans and unbutton it with the same dexterity he uses his camera. He pulls them down and lets the fabric pool in front of his feet, his hands caressing your naked legs.

“Pretty.” He fiddles with the lacey details of your panties.

“Me or my underwear?”

“Both.”

“Smooth. But as much as I’d love you to sweet talk, I think you should do other things with your mouth.”

“Your wish is my command, sunshine.”

Wonwoo puts your legs over his shoulders and tenderly traces his lips on your inner thighs, giving you a glance before sliding your panties to the side.

He gives your clit a quick peck and glides his tongue through your folds, all the way down to your entrance. And repeats the motion, again and again, speeding up with each drag of his wet muscle.

You drag your nails on the mahogany counter and bite your bottom lip to suppress your moans, but his mouth is being so kind and loving to your pussy that it makes you want to scream his name until the windows crash in tiny pieces from the volume of your voice.

He stops to take a breather, a glossy film coating his lips. “Best fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted.”

“Never thought the shy photographer slash barista would be cursing after eating pussy like a God.” You laugh breathlessly.

“I can do much more, if you let me.” He suggests with a gaze full of desire, lips parted again and ready to engulf your clit again.

“I will, but not here.” You put your hand in his hair to stop him. “I don’t want to risk being seen by bypassing people.”

“I don’t know about people, but there are a bunch of cats staring from the glass wall.” Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you gasp when you turn your head towards the window and you see thirteen pairs of glowing cat eyes staring at the two of you.

“I love them but they are fucking scaring me right now, can we please get out of here?” You ask him.

“My place or yours?” Wonwoo picks up your jeans and gives them to you to put them on.

“Mine is a twenty-minute ride with the bus from here.” You say.

“My place it is, then.” Wonwoo grins as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Hope you aren’t scared of motorbikes.”

“Would you laugh if I said I’ve been thinking of being your backpack princess?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I brought an extra helmet just in case you wanted to be my backpack princess?”

“Who are you and what have you done to the cute and super shy Wonwoo?” You shoot him a playful glare.

“He’s still here. He just decided to act according to his desires and feelings.”

“I would like you to pass him my earnest thanks.”

“He accepts them with pleasure. Ready to go?” He offers you his hand.

“Yes sir.” You giggle and button your jeans, lacing your hand with his, as he guides you out of the cafe.

You make sure you turn off the lights and lock the doors before Wonwoo hands you over the extra helmet, checking up on whether you fastened it good enough. As soon as you settle on the bike behind him, he turns on the engine and grabs your arms, putting them around his waist, as if he’s telling you to hold on tight. You let out a squeal when he speeds away from the cafe, but the helmet around your head mutes your voice. Even though it’s your first time riding on a bike, you’re not scared at all. If anything, you find it very fun and kind of liberating.

Perhaps it’s the fact that Wonwoo reciprocated your feelings after two months of mutual pining.

You don’t even realize how fast the time passes when Wonwoo taps your hands to let go of him and get off the bike.

“W-We’re here already?” You ask dumbfounded as you take off the helmet.

“Baby, I wasn’t even speeding up.” He chuckles as he turns off the engine of the bike, taking off his own helmet. “But it’s for the better, I suppose.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because it means you’re looking forward to what will happen within that house.” He smirks in your face and you grab his hand, pulling him towards the entrance.

“You’re so eager.” He’s trying to fish out his keys from his bag.

“I wonder whose fault is that.” You tease him.

“I intend to make it up to you, sweetheart.” He reassures you and finds the keys after a bit of searching, sliding them in the keyhole to unlock the door.

As soon as both of you are inside his house, you pin him on the door and kiss him hungrily, your hands sliding off your coat first and his jacket second, aiming for his buttoned shirt next.

“Bedroom, please.” Wonwoo breaks the kiss and you nod in agreement. He lifts you up in his arms, his arms under your thighs keeping you safe.

You’re certain he’s gonna pin you down on the bed, but you’re proven wrong when he pins you on the nearest bedroom wall, grinding his clothed bulge right on your crotch.

“Didn’t peg you for the needy type.” You grip his shoulders to hold onto him tighter.

“How can I not be needy when I have the girl of my dreams right where I want her?” He groans and lets down your legs, hands flying to the button of your jeans. “Can I?”

“Fuck yes, please throw them away if you can.” You breathe heavily.

He eagerly unbuttons your jeans and drags them down along with your panties, throwing them somewhere in the room. He then unbuttons his own jeans, dropping them down to his ankles with his boxers and kicking them away. He’s just one thrust away from entering you, but his mind goes blank.

“Wonwoo? What’s wrong?”

“I- Fuck, I don’t have any condoms.” He curses under his breath.

“It’s okay. I am clean and on the pill, you can go raw.” You reassure him.

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

“I’m serious too! Are you clean?”

“Yeah, I got tested two weeks ago and haven’t slept with someone for God knows how long.” He blurts out, cheeks flushed a cute pink.

“You’re so cute.” You stifle a laugh.

“You and your pussy are cuter than me, darling.” He laughs and hooks his forearms under your thighs to pry them open and keep them locked closed to your chest. The wall is cold against your back, but the rest of your body feels on fire.

You let out a whiny moan when Wonwoo starts by pushing the tip of his cock, taking his time to ease himself inside you and not hurt you. When he finally manages to fit his shaft in your hole, he throws his head back and his mouth falls open, deep moans vibrating from his chest.

“You’re- Oh god, Wonwoo, it feels so full.” You dig your nails in his shoulder blades, bunching up the dress shirt.

“Fuuuuck, I know.” He groans and pulls his hips away until only his tip is inside you, pushing back with a fluid thrust. A gasp escapes your lips when the thrust makes your body jerk up against the wall.

“Ah- Please do that again.” You beg, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“Shit, with pleasure.” He licks his bottom lip and thrusts inside you the same way, his eyes glued on your face to study your expressions.

He gets the green light when you nod in agreement and repeats the same thrusting pattern, full-bodied yet slow thrusts that rub your molten walls deliciously.

None of you are able to form coherent sentences, you only express yourselves through wanton moans. You feel your skin getting sticky with sweat and your orgasm starting to build up dangerously close to the climax.

“Are you close, sunshine?” He asks you between pants and you nod furiously.

“Hold on tight.” He instructs you and you claw on him like a rescued cat as he lifts you from the wall and walks over to the bed, gently placing you on your back on the mattress.

“W-Wonu, please, I need to cum!” You hiccup and try to wrap your legs around his waist.

“I know, baby, I know.” He puts one knee on the mattress and angles your hips upwards to hit it deeper. He bends his torso down to touch your chest, his lips hovering over yours as his breath mingles with yours.

“Wanna cum together, sunshine?”

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside, fuck, do it inside!”

Wonwoo gasps loudly and loses his balance, crumbling on you at the same time his orgasm crashes upon him. His back shudders while his cock paints your walls white and your lips are busy kissing and biting his neck to muffle your own orgasmic noises. Your walls clench around his cock and you milk him dry until he has nothing else to give, breathing against his neck rapidly.

Both of you take some time and remain still, your breaths slowly regaining their normal rhythms. You can feel your body complaining, legs growing limp and your torso being crushed by Wonwoo’s weight.

“Wonu, you’re heavy…”

“Fuck, sorry.” He gently lifts himself off you and his cock slips out of your pussy, the mixture of your cum and his nearly spilling on the sheets. He’s fast enough to catch it with his fingers and push it back inside you, enjoying the way you shudder for him/

“Wonu!”

“I couldn’t help it, sunshine. Not when you look so pretty.” He sucks his fingers clean. “And taste so damn good.”

“Can you just…clean me up?”

“You didn’t even have to tell me.”

He picks you up in bridal style and carries you to the bathroom, letting you sit on the edge of the tub as he lets the water from the tap run warm.

“Do you mind if I fall asleep in the process?” You mumble tiredly.

“Not at all, sweetheart. I’ll take care of everything, you don’t have to worry.” He presses a kiss on your temple.

“Thank you, Wonu.”

You end up falling asleep halfway through the bath, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind. The lovesick grin on his face doesn’t falter until he’s done drying your hair and putting you in a pair of clean comfy clothes - his clothes.

As soon as you’re under the bedsheets, you cling onto him in your sleep, chest rising and falling peacefully in his arms.

Wonwoo can’t believe this is real, even if he can touch your face and hug you closer to his body.

There is one thing coursing through his mind before drifting off to sleep - Seokmin was right after all.

Your deep slumber is disturbed by the ringtone of your phone and you grumble in your sleep to find the strength and get up to search for your phone. You nearly fall down on your knees when you try to stand up, grabbing the edge of the bed at the last minute to stabilize yourself.

“Nngh……Baby? What are you doing?” Wonwoo asks with a scratchy voice, in a similar state as you.

“Someone is calling me and I don’t know where the hell my phone is!” You curse out loud as you keep searching under the pile of clothes.

Your phone stops ringing and you plop down on the floor dramatically.

“Y/N, it was just a phone call.” Wonwoo tries to reassure you as he gets out of bed.

“But what if it was something important?”

“Then whoever it was, they will probably call again.”

Suddenly, it hits you.

“Wonwoo, what time is it?” You ask him with fear in your eyes.

“I don’t know, let me check real quick.” He walks back to his nightstand and opens the screen of his phone, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing from his mouth.

“Wonwoo?”

“I don’t want you to panic, but it’s 10AM.” He deadpans.

“Fuck, I knew it! We’re fucking late to work!” You spring up on your feet and pick up your clothes, making a beeline for the bathroom.

You splash water over your face and almost squeal when you notice the vibrant purple marks on your neck and collarbones, mortified at the thought of someone seeing them.

“Baby, are you good there?” Wonwoo yells from the bedroom.

“No! I need a fucking turtleneck!” You yell back and stomp your way back to the bedroom.

“Okay but why?” He peeks his head from the closet and takes a better look at your torso. “Yeah, forget I asked.” He purses his lips and picks a cream colored turtleneck, giving it to you.

“God, I love you so much.” You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately put it on, running back to the bathroom. The scent of cedar and peaches gives you a hard time to focus on making your hair look presentable, but you resist the urge to duck your nose under the soft fabric.

Wonwoo does a double take on himself and decides to go with a black turtleneck, his eyes shying away from the marks you left on him last night. However, part of him feels very smug about them, knowing he’s gonna be walking in the cafe with your marks of claim all over his body.

“Come on, stop dwindling, we’re gonna be even more late!” You appear in front of him again and pull on his sleeve repeatedly.

“Oh my God, stop pulling me!” He laughs at your desperation and follows you to the living room, picking up his coat from yesterday.

About half an hour after riding on Wonwoo’s motorbike and some annoying traffic, you both make it safely into the cafe. You’re welcomed by a very frustrated Chan and the new barista intern, struggling with the coffee machine.

“And here I thought you actually ditched work today.” He gives you a smile full of irony.

“I’m really sorry, Chan, I slept through my alarm clock. I swear it wasn’t on purpose!” You defend yourself with a lie while fastening your apron to get to work.

“Whatever you say.” He sighs. “Just…get to work, I’m so fucking done with this monstrosity.”

You quickly greet the new intern with a warm smile and turn your back on the two men to focus on the training at hand.

Wonwoo begins to put his camera together, checking his equipment. He can feel Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on him.

“For how long are you going to keep burning holes in my back?” The older man asks.

“Until you admit that you spent the night with Y/N.” Chan crosses his arms in front of his chest.

Wonwoo puts his camera down and straightens his back, now towering over the guy.

“Yeah, I did. Want me to tell you how exactly we spent our night?”

“No need, I was able to put two and two together when I came here and cleaned up the entire place.” Chan pinches the bridge of his nose.

“My patience ran thin and so did hers, I guess you already know how things went down.” Wonwoo smirks.

“Well it was about fucking time, dude.” Chan pats Wonwoo’s shoulder. “You were blueballing the poor girl for two months now and I was starting to feel that way as well.”

Chan goes to the outer space of the cafe, leaving Wonwoo utterly stunned. The younger man gets a few orders from the early customers and makes a beeline for the window seats of the cats, bypassing the table Joshua is sitting on.

“I am so sorry, darlings. I hope none of you were traumatized from whatever vulgarities you witnessed last night.” He pets them one by one, cooing at them as if they were his own kids.

“Why are you trying to console the cats?” The older man asks.

“If I were to tell you, you’d need consolation as well.”

“Do I smell work gossip?”

“More like work porn.”

Joshua puts his hand over his mouth like a gossip girl, his eyes shining like those of an imp.

“Don’t tell me-”

“Yeah, they did.”

“Damn, I gotta give it to your intuition.”

“How about giving me a fucking break already?!” Chan whispers in frustration.

“What, you saw cum on the floor or something?” Joshua jokes, but the waiter’s expression is stone-cold.

“You cannot be serious.”

“Fucking try me, Shua.”

He turns his head around and watches you and Wonwoo giggling together, his face turning back to his friend.

“At least your work wife is happy now.”

Chan smiles gently as he leans against the wall.

“That she definitely is.”

#svthub #svthub.collab #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo smut #wonwoo crack #svt wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #svt fluff #svt smut #svt crack #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen crack #seventeen #tw alcohol

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smileysuh · 9 months

Text

rogue

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.” Your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as Wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs. His fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as Wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.

tw/cw. protected sex, pussy eating, blow job, deep throating, swallowing, oral (f/m receiving), exhibitionism (sex at a lover's lookout on the hood of his car), multiple sex scenes, Wonwoo's broad shoulders #confirmed, teasing through panties, hair pulling, breast worship, mutual orgasm, night terrors, mentions of a bad past, cuddling, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.5k I collab. 70's collab

🍭 aus. 70's au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've been missing Wonwoo, and when his spot in the collab was open, I figured why not?

It’s an hour into the date and you already wish you’d stayed at home. A walk through the town followed by bowling had sounded like a great way to get to know the location you’ve just moved to- however, the guy showing you around is something of a wet towel.

He looks cute enough, but then again, your housemate had promised he would. His name is Carter, and he’s just over six feet tall, with blonde hair, a worn jean jacket, and a nice smile. You’ve tried to give him the benefit of doubt, you really have, but there are some guys you simply can’t force a spark with, and unfortunately, he’s one of them.

When you reach the bowling alley, Carter holds the door open for you, and you flash him a small smile, entering the space.

“Are you excited?” your roommate, Mary, asks. She links her arm with yours, stepping away from her own date to give the boys a moment to talk by the front door while she drags you further into the establishment.

“For bowling?” You look around. “Sure.”

“Carter’s nice, isn’t he?” she presses.

You sigh. “Sure.”

Movement catches your attention, and your gaze shifts to a man working behind the shoe counter. He’s in a dark green sweater, and his black hair shines in the light of the bowling alley. Now he is someone who interests you, and you find yourself tugging on Mary.

“Let's grab shoes,” you tell her.

“Welcome to the bowling alley,” the worker greets you with a smile, and you find that his face is even more handsome while lit up with a friendly expression. “Have you two been here before?”

“I have,” Mary answers for you. “But she’s new to town, so this is her first time.” Your housemate nudges your shoulder and you swallow thickly, nodding.

“It can’t be much different from the bowling alleys in my last city,” you offer.

“You’re right about that,” the pretty man nods. “What size shoe can I grab you?”

You and Mary give him your sizes and he leans down, retrieving the shoes from under the counter. When he passes them over to you, your fingers briefly touch, and your gaze darts up to meet his own.

There’s a very brief pause, a frozen moment that feels like forever, and then he’s tugging his fingers away.

“How much do we owe you?” Mary asks. “For a game?”

“You two are on a double date, aren’t you?” the man asks.

“How could you tell?” you laugh, feeling a little dejected that being out with Carter might dissuade this pretty man in front of you from seeing you as a girl who’s on the market, which you most definitely are.

“I can always tell these sorts of things,” the worker grins. “I’ll let your dates pay when they stop talking by the door and come for shoes.”

“You’re new in town too, right?” Mary asks suddenly, eying the man behind the counter up and down.

“How could you tell?”

“I feel like I’d remember you,” Mary insists. “Besides, most of the guys in this town would have let us pay. You strike me as a good one, someone not from here.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” the worker nods.

“What’s your name?” you ask suddenly, feeling the urge to know it, if even to know him better.

“Wonwoo,” he says, and suddenly coming out tonight feels like the best possible thing you could have done with your time.

You tell him your own name, and he smiles softly at you.

“Enjoy your date,” Wonwoo muses, nodding to the two men who have now come to grab their own shoes.

It sucks to be reminded that you are, in fact, on a date with Carter even while partially drooling over Wonwoo. With a small sigh, you follow Mary to one of the free alleys. There are new mechanized automatic scorer machines, and Mary types in the nickname ‘Baby’ for herself, before nudging you to write in your own.

“Choose something cute,” she tells you, watching over your shoulder.

You punch in the nickname ‘Angel’ and she nods, satisfied.

“Now for Carter, put in Big Guy, and my date should be named Handsome,” Mary insists.

“Are you sure they won’t want to choose their own nicknames?” you ask.

“Who cares what they want?” she shrugs. “I think they’ll like these names.”

With a sigh, you do as you’re told. Your dates approach, and you all slip on your shoes, slotting your discarded runners under the bench you’re sitting on while Mary stands up to bowl first.

It’s a nice establishment, and there’s a Beatles record playing that gives the space a nice ambiance. However, no matter how hard you try, your attention keeps slipping back to Wonwoo.

He’s seated in his little work table station, and you catch him staring back at you a few times when you try to casually look over your shoulder at him.

When Carter moves closer, resting his arm around you, your gaze is quick to dart to Wonwoo, who laughs, looking down at the makeshift paper airplane he’s playing with in his hands.

You get the sense that he’s amused by your interactions with Carter, who lays on the affection more and more as the date continues. In fact, Carter even stands up to show you how to bowl properly, and despite your attempts to squash his so-called ‘help’ he still ends up flattening against your back and guiding you on how to hold your arm when you toss the ball down the lane.

You’re starting to have enough of Carter, and the temptation to go talk to the person you’re really interested in gets the better of you. “Do you guys want drinks?” you ask, addressing your foursome.

“A coke!” Mary chips.

“Make that two,” says her date.

“How about four?” Carter asks, pulling out his wallet to hand you a bill. “Unless you want me to come with you to grab them?”

“No, it’s your turn to bowl. I’ll manage,” you assure him.

He gives you a look that tells you he doesn’t quite believe you, but you’re already running away with his money in your hand. Your eyes are fixed on Wonwoo, who straightens up as you approach.

“Did I hear something about four cokes?” he asks.

“You have good ears,” you muse, nodding. “And yeah, four cokes sounds good.”

“Coming right up,” he smiles, heading from the shoe area to the location they keep beverages. There’s another worker in that section, but he’s so busy playing crossword he doesn’t even look up when Wonwoo begins messing around and grabbing glasses.

“So…” you watch the gorgeous man work, enjoying the way he pushes up his sleeves, revealing strong forearms. “Looks like we’re both new in town.”

“Looks that way,” he agrees.

“How are you liking it?”

“You know, the Pacific Northwest is never somewhere I thought I’d end up,” he admits, looking at you while filling the cups with coke.

“Really?” You assess him up and down. “Are you not a big fan of trees, mist, and small mountain towns?”

“Not a fan of mosquitos,” Wonwoo grins.

“Okay, now that I can understand,” you laugh.

“How’d you end up here?”

“I’m not sure,” you say honestly. “I’d driven through this place a few times, and when I decided I needed to get away from my parents, it felt like a good intermediary location.”

“So you’re not planning on staying here forever?” Wonwoo cocks his head.

“Definitely not.”

“Does that big guy you’re on a date with realize this isn’t a forever thing?”

You let out a small laugh, turning to look at Carter, who is glaring daggers at Wonwoo. “My date’s not even a this week thing,” you admit.

“No?” At this point, you think Wonwoo is purposefully taking his time filling the cups, and you enjoy getting to chat with him. “Why’s that?”

“He’s not my type.”

“He’s tall, blonde, buys you things, holds doors open, offers to show you how to bowl…” Wonwoo counts up Carter’s virtues. “Sounds like the kind of guy any girl in this town would die for.”

“And you’re an expert on what women want?” You cock a brow at the worker.

“I guess not,” Wonwoo admits. “You tell me then, what’s your type?”

You think on it for a moment, then grin. “Cute guys, with dark hair, who wear soft looking sweaters, and work in bowling alleys.”

There’s a beat of silence, and Wonwoo simply stares at you. Then he swallows thickly, and you watch his adam’s apple bob with effort. “Can I take you out sometime?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“I’ll just need to grab your landline number-” Wonwoo begins to explain, but you’re already reaching for a napkin.

“Pen?”

“One sec,” Wonwoo turns and plucks the pencil out of his coworker’s hand, and the man looks up from his crossword in shock. “I’ll give this right back,” Wonwoo promises before handing it to you.

You scribble down your landline number. “I live in a house with two other girls, so you’ll have to ask for me by name,” you explain, signing the napkin just in case he forgets.

“You got it,” Wonwoo grins, accepting your number when you’re finished with it.

“I work evenings,” you explain, “so call in the afternoon, okay?”

“Definitely.” He grabs two of the drinks. “Now let me help you carry these back to your friends.”

“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” you smile, picking up the other two cups and beginning to walk back to your bowling lane while Wonwoo follows.

“Sometimes,” he muses. “I try.”

It’s been less than twenty four hours since Wonwoo met you and he’s already feeling eager to call. His shift is going slow, and as noon rolls around, he finds himself inching closer to the telephone.

The napkin with your digits is practically burning a hole into his pocket and he pulls it out gingerly, careful not to damage it in any way.

“I’m gonna take a five minute break,” Wonwoo calls to his workmate, who simply nods while completing his crossword. Wonwoo doubts anyone will come in while he does this, but at the same time, he’s not looking to get fired from this shitty job anytime soon.

He begins to dial your number into the phone that hangs on the wall behind the till, and when he’s done, he presses the handset to his ear. His fingers begin to play with the wirey chord, and he looks down at his shoes while it rings.

“Hello?” a feminine voice answers, and Wonwoo is quick to realize it’s not you on the other end of the line.

“Uh, hi,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “I’m calling for y/n?”

“One second,” the girl on the line yells your name loudly and Wonwoo nearly drops the phone from the shrill noise of it all. “Oh, and who’s calling?”

“Tell her it’s the bowling alley guy,” Wonwoo says dumbly. He’s not sure if you’ll remember his name, and he wants to make things easy for you.

“Bowling alley guy?!” The woman sounds excited. “I met you last night! I knew y/n was flirting with you- I knew it!”

“Uh… yeah?” Wonwoo’s really not sure what to say to women most days, let alone during a conversation like this one.

“Poor Carter,” the woman sighs. “He’s going to be devastated.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Wonwoo lies. He thinks it feels like the right thing to say, so he says it.

“Mary, give me the phone.” Now that is your voice, and Wonwoo perks up, holding his breath while he hears a murmured exchange. “Wonwoo?”

“Hey,” he smiles. “Uh, yeah, it’s me.”

“You work fast, don’t you.” He can hear the grin in your own voice and it makes his widen.

“I’m not the kind of guy who plays games or anything,” Wonwoo tells you honestly. “I was really happy to get your number, so I thought I’d call.”

“I’m glad you did.”

There’s a pause while Wonwoo builds up his courage.

He’s done many things in his life, things that people would say were much harder than asking a girl out, and yet, he finds himself becoming tongue tied just talking to you. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and counting to three, like they’d taught him how to do in the military before doing anything that might be considered drastic.

“Are you still interested in going out sometime?” he asks.

“I’d love to.”

His heart skips a beat.

“What were you thinking of doing together?” you question.

He had definitely not thought that far ahead, but he can’t back down now. He scrambles for date ideas, and the first one in his head is, “How about I take you to a roller rink.”

“A roller rink, huh?” You let out a small laugh and he worries he’s suggested the wrong thing.

“We can do something else if you want,” he immediately back pedals.

“No, a roller rink is good,” you assure him. “But I can’t promise I’ll be any good at it.”

“Well… you can hold onto me if you’re afraid you’re going to fall.”

“You know what? I just might,” you giggle again and the sound makes his entire body buzz with happy energy.

He’d never thought when he moved to this stupid small town in the Pacific Northwest that he’d meet a girl like you, and he hardly even knows you yet.

Wonwoo truly can’t explain his attraction to you- it’s simply a feeling he has. Sure, you’re gorgeous, but there’s something deeper, something he can’t put his finger on. He wants to figure you out, and he can’t wait to discover what makes you tick.

“When are you free?” Wonwoo asks.

“Well, it’s Monday now, let me just check my schedule again,” you’re silent for a moment except the sound of a paper flipping. “I generally work Friday through Tuesday, so how about we say Wednesday or Thursday?”

“Wednesday works,” Wonwoo says, pulling out a pen to write it into his own schedule book he keeps in his back pocket.

“Are you that eager to see me?”

He can hear your smile again, and he can visualize it in his minds eye. God, you’re beautiful.

“Maybe,” he admits. “For a town that mostly gets rain, it’s nice to see a little sunshine every now and again.”

The line is quiet, and he worries again if he’s said the wrong thing. Then you let out a shaky laugh. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“Not usually,” Wonwoo says seriously.

“No?” you tease. “So you don’t use your job as a place to hit on girls?”

“Never.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“What time should we meet? Or do you want me to pick you up?” Wonwoo is simply eager to get the details solidified in his notebook, to get things written in stone so to speak.

“I live close to the roller rink, so how about we meet there? Does seven sound okay?”

“Works for me,” he nods, eyes shifting to the front door of the bowling alley where a customer has just walked in. “Look, I gotta go-”

“Me too, have a good shift Wonwoo. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

He can’t fucking wait.

You’d chosen one of your cutest outfits. Mary had even whistled when you left your room in the denim pantsuit number, her eyes skimming down to the flared pant legs. “So this is what you wear when you really like a guy,” she’d mused.

You’d done a small twirl, showing off how great the pants make your bum look, and she’d warned you that if Wonwoo got handsy, he’d have her to deal with.

“He’ll be fine,” you’d assured her. “He’s a nice guy.”

“You don’t even know him,” she’s pointed out, and you suppose there’s truth to that. However, at the same time, you just feel like Wonwoo’s not someone who’s a threat, not to you anyways.

He seems like a nice guy, a genuinely nice guy, and excitement surges through you as you make your way to the roller rink.

Wonwoo meets you outside, and you note the way his eyes widen as he looks you up and down. He has the decency to make the motion quick, and you think it must be an automatic reaction, one he’s even ashamed of, because his cheeks flare a pretty pink colour.

He’s absolutely adorable.

Like Carter had, Wonwoo pulls out all the stops. He holds the door open to the rink for you, and pays the small fee to enter. The two of you trade your shoes over and he even bends down to help you tie up the laces on your roller blades, checking to make sure they’re not too tight.

“Have you don’t this before?” he asks as you rise on shaky legs.

“Once,” you admit, noting the steadiness he has in his form. “Have you?”

“Never, but I’ve got good balance,” Wonwoo smiles softly at you.

“I’ll say,” you laugh, shocked at how well he’s holding himself up while you’re wobbling already.

“Here,” he holds out his hand, and you take it, grateful at the extra stability you gain by having him next to you. The two of you make your way to the side of the roller rink and you watch couples going around in circles.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” you sigh, feeling overwhelmed by the speed and ease at which the other people are moving.

“You can do it,” Wonwoo assures you. “I won’t let you fall.”

“Promise?” You squeeze his hand.

“Promise.” He squeezes yours back, and then he takes a step onto the rink, looking back at you.

You take a deep breath before following him, grabbing at his arm with your free hand. The rink is much more slippery than the carpeted floors had been, and you marvel again at Wonwoo’s balance.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you ask in shock.

“Positive,” Wonwoo grins.

“I don’t believe you,” you laugh, letting him pull you along as you get the hang of being on roller skates.

“You don’t have to believe me,” Wonwoo muses, turning so he can hold both your hands. He’s moving backward now, and you think he must be lying to you. “You just have to focus on your feet.”

“While you focus on what? You’re skating backwards!”

“I’m focusing on you,” Wonwoo says softly, flashing you a small smile.

“You and your charming words again,” you shake your head, enjoying the way he makes you feel.

“Only for you,” Wonwoo muses, guiding you around the roller rink. “Look, now that you’re not thinking about it so hard, you’re doing better.”

“I’m doing better because I’m holding both of your hands and you’re steadying me,” you counter.

“Take your small win,” Wonwoo advises you.

“No,” you say stubbornly.

He only laughs at your antics. “Do you think you can do it with one hand again?”

You consider letting go of his fingers, and part of you doesn’t want to, but you know he should probably be skating next to you again, watching where he’s going, so you concede. “Fine.”

“How often do people usually skate for?” Wonwoo asks suddenly.

“Are you bored already?” you laugh. “We just got here!”

“Not bored,” he smiles. “Just thinking that it would be nice to go grab milkshakes after this.”

“That would be nice,” you admit. “How about this, I’ll tell you when my legs start to hurt and we can go then? Or if I fall, I think we should call it quits.”

“Deal,” Wonwoo laughs. “Although, I hope you know, I’d never let you fall.”

He squeezes your hand gently, and your heart thumps loudly in your chest.

Wonwoo is such a charmer, but you don’t mind one bit.

You find yourself in a diner not an hour later, and your thighs are burning from the roller skating exercise you’d not been used to. “Are you more into chocolate, or vanilla?” Wonwoo asks suddenly, his gaze fixed on the menu in front of him.

“I like them both, what do you think we should get?”

He looks up. “You mean… we’re going to share one?”

“Were you thinking of ordering two?”

“I mean…” his skin flushes that pretty shade of pink and he lets out a small cough. “I uh…”

“We can order our own,” you tell him, wanting to smooth the miscommunication over.

“No, we should share one,” he insists, looking determined. “Whatever flavour you want.”

“Are you sure?” you cock a brow at him, and he gives you a curt nod, jaw set.

The waitress shows up and you order your favourite milkshake. Wonwoo fiddles with the menu that’s been left on the table and you take the opportunity to assess him.

He’s a bit of an enigma.

He’d seemed so confident when you’d first met him at the bowling alley, but now that you’re on a date with him, he has these shy moments. He’s endearing, and you can feel yourself falling for him, which is kind of scary to admit to yourself.

The milkshake is set between you, two straws sticking out of the whipped cream topping.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo says politely to the waitress, who simply nods and scurries away, giving you some privacy for your date.

You and Wonwoo move toward the straws at the same time, and your hands brush as you both reach for the cold glass.

“Oh,” Wonwoo immediately retracts his hand. “Sorry, you go first.”

“You’re cute,” you tell him. “Don’t you want to sip together?”

“Can we do that?”

“Of course, silly,” you laugh. “Come on, lean in.”

He eyes you as if you’re tricking him, but after a breath, he follows through. You both lean over the table, and you reach for your straw, bringing it to your lips while Wonwoo does the same.

He’s so close to you, and he’s even prettier at this short distance. His eyelashes are particularly enthralling, and his dark brown eyes look rich and warm in the diner’s light.

Wonwoo’s gaze dips down, and you watch him try to hide a smile while you both take your first sips of the milkshake.

Then, you’re pulling away again, and Wonwoo’s reaching a hand to rub the back of his neck. “I have to admit,” he sighs, “I don’t do this often.”

“What, date?” you cock your head to the side, assessing him.

“Uh… yeah,” he nods.

You’re a little shocked at how a guy as cute as he is can get through life without being asked on numerous dates a week. “Are you not looking for a relationship, or…?”

“It’s not that,” Wonwoo assures you, swallowing thickly. “It’s just, my last job made it sort of impossible.”

“Yeah? And what job was that?” you ask, taking another sip of your milkshake.

Wonwoo lets out another chuckle, but this one isn’t very humorous. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“Wow, a mystery boy- it wouldn’t have to do with an underground cartel working out of a bowling alley would it?” you tease.

“Definitely not,” he smiles.

“Are you really not going to tell me?”

“Not tonight,” he shakes his head, and you realize there’s no use pressing him on this.

“But maybe another night?”

“Maybe,” he nods.

“Then let's talk about something other than work,” you suggest. “Have you gone fishing around here? I know this town has some really good rivers and lakes in the forest around here.”

“I’m not a fisherman,” he tells you.

“Do you not have the patience for it?”

“Not the patience so much as the willingness to hurt the fish.”

“I’ve heard it doesn't hurt them.”

“Sure you have,” Wonwoo smiles to himself. “Also, I don’t eat fish, so it would be a waste.”

You like getting to know him. He’s a peculiar man, and every detail you find out only makes you more interested.

After your milkshake, Wonwoo had insisted on walking you home. “You never know what creeps are out at night,” he’d told you, wrapping his jacket around your shoulders to protect you from the September air.

You’d talked about books, schooling, hobbies and such, and Wonwoo had been the one asking you the majority of the questions as you’d slowly made your way home. He’s even more secretive than you’d initially realized, and you wonder what details you’re even going to give your friends when you debrief them on the date later.

“So this is mine,” you say when you come to a stop in front of your rental house.

“Can I walk you to your door?”

You look up at your home then back at the pretty man. “I don’t see why not.”

You notice his ears are flushed, and you get a sense that he might try to kiss you. Each step towards your door feels like an eternity, and your heart is racing in your chest.

Coming to a stop on your doormat, you turn to look at Wonwoo. “I should give you your coat back.”

“Keep it for next time.”

“There’s going to be a next time?” You cock a brow.

“There better be,” he laughs. “Unless.. Unless you don’t want to go out again?”

“I’d love to see you again,” you assure him. Your gaze shifts down to his mouth and you find yourself licking your lip, biting it between your teeth as you wait for him to make a move.

You notice that his eyes are also shifting down, and you hold your breath.

He leans forward-

The door to your home is thrown open and Mary is standing there.

Wonwoo practically jumps away from you, and Mary grins wickedly. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she smirks.

You sigh. “Mary this is Wonwoo, Wonwoo you’ve met Mary.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” he nods. “How’s your night been?”

“Not as good as yours it looks like,” Mary says sassily. “We’ve been waiting on our third to watch a girls movie, unless she was about to invite you in.”

“Mary,” you whisper a warning.

“Looks like you’ve had no such luck, pal,” Mark laughs. “Thanks for walking her home.” She grabs your hand and tugs you into the house.

“I’ll call you,” Wonwoo promises.

You push Mary into the hallway before leaning out the door, getting close to Wonwoo again. “You better,” you smile, a sudden rush of courage surging through you as you lean forward to press your lips to his cheek. “Goodnight.”

He’s smiling as you pull away, and you’re struck by how beautiful he is. “Goodnight,” he echos.

“Get home safe,” you warn.

“I always do.”

You watch him walk away, and he stops on the sidewalk, turning to give you one last wave before you close your door.

“He’s cuter than Mary said,” your third roommate, Jessica, notes from the living room as she watches him head down the street.

“He’s very cute,” you agree, tugging his jacket tighter around your form.

“Are you two having another date?”

“Yup-” you suddenly realize you’d never gotten his number. Which means Wonwoo truly has complete control of contacting you again.

The jacket still wrapped around you is something like insurance that he will call, but you’re a touch saddened that you’ll have to wait for him to find the time to reach out.

He’s a good one, and you really don’t want to let him off the hook just yet.

“So tell us about your date!” Mary grins, jumping onto the couch. “Is Carter really out of the running?”

“Carter has nothing on Wonwoo,” you laugh.

“I really don’t see how that’s possible-”

“Mary, if you like Carter so much, you should date him yourself,” you point out. “I don’t know, Wonwoo is just- he’s a good guy. I really enjoyed being out with him. He held me up at the roller rink and we shared a milkshake-”

“That’s original,” Mary scoffs.

“It was cute!” you insist. “I need a bit of cute in my life,” even if he does joke about having to kill you if he tells you about his last job.

When your phone had rung at noon on Thursday, you’d jumped at the idea it might be Wonwoo, but it had only been the diner you work at, asking if you could cover a shift.

You suppose you need the money, but as you manage the small dinner rush, you find it hard to take your mind off of Wonwoo. You keep replaying the small moments in your head, how he’d held both your hands to help you rollerblade, moving effortlessly backward, or how you’d both leaned in for the milkshake, noses almost touching.

The kiss that could have been feels fresh in your mind, and you’d given Mary a royal talking to about opening the door at the moment she had.

What would he have tasted like if you had kissed him? Would his lips have been as soft as they look? Would he have grabbed your hips and tugged you close to his chest?

You’re so busy thinking about Wonwoo that you almost don’t realize he’s walking past your diner until he comes to a stop, staring at you through the window while you take a couple’s order.

You nearly drop your notepad, only to snap yourself out of it and finish scribbling two burgers with extra cheese. “Can I grab you anything else?” you ask, forcing your gaze to shift to the customers.

“That’s it for now,” the man smiles, and you scurry off to give the cook the order.

Your back is to the front door of the diner, but when you hear the bell ring, you know what you’ll find when you turn around.

Wonwoo looks a little windswept, and he’s wearing glasses today.

He looks so handsome you could die.

“Hi,” you smile, approaching him and fidgeting with your apron.

“Hi,” he grins. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes, usually on Thursdays, which, now that I think of it, didn’t you say you weren’t working tonight?”

“You have a good memory,” you breathe. “I uh, picked up a shift.”

“I’m glad I walked by, I was almost going to skip coming in and get a burger from the joint down the road.”

“Andy’s Burgers?” you ask in shock. “No, no, no, you have to have one of ours. They’re much better.”

“I wasn’t planning on sitting in to eat, but what the hell, can I grab a booth?”

“Of course,” you wave at the open seating. “Anywhere you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Wonwoo smiles at you, turning to slip into one of the blue and white coloured booths.

You’re quick to go grab him a menu, and you scurry over, heart racing in your chest. “So how’s your night going?”

“Better now,” he grins. “I actually uh, called you an hour ago, and no one answered-”

“We’re all working tonight,” you muse.

“I’m glad I caught you.” There’s a sincerity in his words and it makes your skin heat. “I probably shouldn’t be asking you about this while you’re at work-”

“Ask anyways.”

“How do you feel about going for a drive on our next date? I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything.”

There have been a string of unsolved murders lately, and you’d be lying if you said they weren’t concerning you, but at the same time, the missing women are half a country away, in New York.

You cock your head, assessing Wonwoo. “Are you sure about that, mister ‘if I told you about my last job I’d have to kill you’?”

“You know what, fair, out of context, that sounds very ominous-”

“I trust you,” you insist. “A drive would be great.”

“How do you feel about Sunday?”

“Sunday works, I get off at eight.”

“Perfect.” Wonwoo plays with the menu in front of him. “Should I pick you up here or at your place?”

“Let’s say eight thirty at my place, I want to get dressed up for you.”

Wonwoo grins, gaze shifting down at the table. He pushes his glasses up his nose, then he eyes you again. “I think you always look pretty.”

“Really? Is this a nice apron?” You tug at the material wrapped around your waist and Wonwoo’s grin widens.

“The nicest apron I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ll send my manager your regards,” you tease. “What can I get you for dinner?”

“A bacon cheeseburger, please.”

God, you love a man with manners.

“Any drink?”

“Just water, thanks.”

“The burger comes with fries, is ketchup okay?”

“It’s perfect.”

“I’ll be back with your order shortly,” you smile, finishing up on your notepad.

“Take your time,” Wonwoo assures you.

As you move away to the kitchen to put the order in the window, you get the suspicion that Wonwoo’s watching your ass. Hell, you hope he’s checking you out.

With so few people in the restaurant, and burgers being a fairly fast food menu item, you find yourself serving the couple their dinner in no time. It’s almost torture to not look over at Wonwoo, to know he’s watching you work.

You bring him his water and you take the opportunity to chat with him again. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“I usually wear contacts,” he tells you.

“Right, I heard about that new brand that came out. Are they any good?”

“I could see you pretty well last night with them in,” Wonwoo smiles.

“Good. That outfit was meant to be seen.”

“It sure was.”

Flattery will get him everywhere- but before you can say anything else, the kitchen bell dings, signifying an order is up. When you turn your head, you see Wonwoo’s burger sitting in the window. “I’ll be right back with your food,” you assure him, scurrying off.

As you’re bringing Wonwoo his plate, a family enters the diner. Your attention is effectively transferred to them, no matter how much you wish you could just watch Wonwoo devour his burger and thirst for him.

The two adults and their three kids are very rowdy, and you bring over some colouring sheets with crayons, as well as a tray of water in plastic cups. Your focus shifts between Wonwoo and the family while they look over the menus, and when they put them down, you head over again, notepad in hand.

By the time you’re done taking their very complicated and long order, Wonwoo’s finishing up his meal, licking his fingers clean in a way that makes you salivate as you run to the kitchen to quickly give the chef the new list of food.

“Can I leave the money on the table?” Wonwoo calls, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“I’ll be right there-”

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he says, casually tossing a few bills onto the counter. “Thanks, y/n.”

“Bye, Wonwoo.” You hate watching him leave, but as you approach his table, you find he’s left you a very generous tip.

When you head back to the kitchen window, the chef leans through. “You know that guy?” he asks.

“Yeah. I hear he’s a bit of a regular here?”

“Started coming in two months ago,” the chef nods. “He’s a little weird.”

“Weird?” you cock your head to the side, watching the chef flip burgers. “How so?”

“He only ever comes in alone, usually just orders a black coffee, and watches other customers. I don’t know how you talked him into getting a burger today, but… yeah, a little off.”

You assess the chef. While he seems like a good guy, you wonder if there are any other biased reasons he might be rubbed the wrong way by Wonwoo.

“I think Wonwoo’s just…” you search for the word to defend him, “unique. He’s really nice, when you start to get to know him.”

“I hope you’re right about that,” the chef sighs. “If things don’t work out and you need someone to tell him, or any man, to back off, just let me know.”

“Thanks, chef,” you smile. “I’ll let you know if I need your help.”

You think maybe the chef is simply worried about you as a young woman entering the town’s dating pool with very little experience.

However, when it comes to Wonwoo, you’re pretty sure you have nothing to worry about.

You’ve decided to wear an orange floral boho style dress for your second date with Wonwoo. It reaches your mid thigh, and when you do a twirl for your roommates, Mary starts to scream about how beautiful you are.

“You’re going to give that boy a heart attack,” Jessica grins.

“Or a boner,” Mary agrees.

“Lets try for both,” you tease, gaze shifting out the front window just in time to see a car pull up. “I think that’s him!”

Your roomates jump up to get a look outside, and Jessica frowns. “I don’t know why, but I didn’t picture him as a 1966 Chrystler Imperial kind of guy.”

“Yeah, for some reason I thought he’d have a nicer muscle car.”

“Don’t be rude,” you remind Jessica. “And to be fair, he did just move here, muscle cars have limited room- I bet he has a car like this for the space.”

“Because you know him so well after only one date,” Mary rolls her eyes.

“You know what?” You grab your keys and head to the door, throwing Wonwoo’s jacket around your shoulders. “I do!”

Without another word to your roommates, you head outside, practically jumping down the steps. Wonwoo’s exited his car by now, and he’s come around to lean against the passenger’s side door, which he opens for you upon approach.

“Hi,” he grins.

“Hi!” you echo, throwing your arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug.

His hands are hesitant, but they settle on your hips, holding you tighter. You take a deep breath, enjoying the embrace, and his woodsy scent washes over you.

“So where are we driving to?” you ask when you pull away.

“One of my coworkers said there’s this nice spot, I thought I’d take you there,” Wonwoo suggests. It’s so very vague, and so very Wonwoo.

“Works for me,” you grin, allowing him to take your hand and help you into the car.

As you close your door, you notice Wonwoo waving at your roommates who are staring from the living room window. Jessica immediately ducks down and you laugh to yourself.

“The girls you live with seem nice,” Wonwoo notes as he enters the driver’s seat.

“They’re alright,” you smile. “Do you have any roommates?”

“No, I live alone.”

“That must be nice.”

“It’s quiet.”

“Are you the kind of guy that likes the quiet?”

Wonwoo considers your question for a moment. “I used to be. But some days, it can be lonely.”

It’s the first time he’s really gotten deep with you. He’s being vulnerable, and your breath catches in your throat.

You reach out and rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift, giving him a gentle squeeze. “If you ever need company, you know where to find me.”

“I might take you up on that,” Wonwoo flashes a small smile, but you can tell it’s an aversion tactic. You don’t mind dropping the topic, and you take your hand away, looking at the road.

Wonwoo’s pulled off the main street and is heading up one of the dirt roads that leads into the forest. It’s a path you know well, and your heart thumps when you realize where Wonwoo must be taking you.

“Are we going to Hellyhill Lookout?” you ask softly.

“Uh huh, have you been?” Wonwoo sneaks a glance at you.

“Not personally, no, but I’ve heard it’s nice.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Good.”

“Do you…” you lick your lip. “Did your coworker tell you what kind of lookout it is?”

“What do you mean?”

You can’t help but let out a small laugh, and you enjoy the switchbacks of the road, the way the tall trees fly past. “It’s a lover’s lookout.”

“A lover’s lookout,” Wonwoo repeats.

“You know, a place that teens drive to so they can make out in their cars?”

Wonwoo practically chokes on air, and his grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t know-”

“Don’t be sorry,” you try to assure him, but he’s already beginning to blush.

“We can go somewhere else-”

“Really,” you reach for his hand again, “Wonwoo, it’s fine.”

“I can’t believe my coworker would suggest this-”

You can tell that your words aren’t helping his anxiety, so you lean over the bench seat, pressing your lips to his cheek. He freezes under the motion. “Wonwoo,” you whisper again, “I want to go to a lover’s lookout with you. Stop panicking, please.”

He takes a shuddery breath. “Okay.”

You look out at the road again. “Pull over at the next stop,” you instruct. “The lookout is just through the trees.”

Wonwoo does as you say, and pretty soon you’re entering a small, empty parkinglot. You suppose it’s a school night, and you’ve heard this spot is busiest on Fridays and Saturdays.

The privacy is welcome, and Wonwoo slowly pulls to a stop. The view is breathtaking as the sun sets behind a mountain. Even from inside his car you can see the whole small town down below, twinkling and nestled amongst the Pacific Northwest geography.

“Wow, Wonwoo-” you turn to say something, but suddenly he’s cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours.

The shy man you’ve been getting to know is gone, and you melt into the kiss, closing your eyes while your thoughts disappear. His touch is gentle on your cheek, but his fingers slip around to cup the back of your head, and when his tongue glides across your lower lip, you open your mouth for him, granting him access.

You stifle a groan, reaching out to grab the front of his shirt, pulling him closer while also sliding across the bench seat, your knees pressing against his thigh.

Already, you want to be closer. You wish he’d grab your hips and pull you on top of him, but he doesn’t, he simply kisses you. You can feel your panties beginning to stick to your core, and when his lips move to your throat, you stifle a moan, fingers flexing against his shirt.

“Wonwoo, I need more-”

“I didn’t bring condoms,” he says against your neck.

“I don’t care-”

“I’m not about to get you pregnant on our second date.”

“How… responsible of you,” you laugh, feeling a little disappointed. “You could always just… I don’t know, pull out?”

Now it’s Wonwoo’s turn to chuckle, and he shakes his head. “Here, I have an idea.” He pulls away from you, and you’re left frowning. “Come outside with me.”

“But-”

He cups your face. “Do you trust me?”

You sigh. “Fine.” Maybe the cold air will calm you down, maybe you can convince him to bring condoms next time.

You exit the car, coming around the front to join Wonwoo. “Here,” he says, reaching for your hand and gently tugging you so you’re standing with your back to his chest while he leans against the hood of the vehicle.

He wraps you tightly in his arms, and you release a sigh when he begins to kiss your neck again.

“Are you trying to torture me?” you ask.

“Angel, if I was trying to torture you, you’d know it.”

“Yeah?” you can feel his cock through his jeans, and you begin to grind back against him. “And how would I know it?”

“Well for starters,” his hand snakes down the front of your dress, and he grabs at the fabric by your thighs, dragging it up, “I wouldn’t be doing this.” His lips return to your throat. “Can I touch you properly?”

“I’d be angry if you didn’t,” you confess, resting your head back against his shoulder.

Wonwoo’s hand slips under your dress, and he cups your pussy, two fingers begining to rub you through your panties. A whimper slips past your lips, and you wiggle your hips, wanting more pressure, which Wonwoo gives you.

“Feels good?” he asks, breath hot against your throat.

“So good,” you nod. “For a guy who doesn’t do this sort of thing often, you definitely know how to handle women.”

Wonwoo simply laughs, but doesn’t respond more than that, continuing to tease you through your panties until you’re wriggling against his hand and cock. Then his free arm moves around to stop your hips, keeping you pinned to his chest. “Stop moving,” he says lowly, breath hot against your neck.

“I can’t help it,” you whimper, your pussy throbbing with need.

“Are you close, Angel?” He smiles against your throat and a shiver runs up your spine.

You nod, not able to find the words to admit to him that a little teasing through your panties has already taken you to the edge.

Wonwoo pulls away from your neck, and you feel him look around. You’re still the only two people in the dark parkinglot.

“I’m gonna put you on the hood of my car now,” Wonwoo tells you.

You don’t really know what he’s thinking of doing to you, but there’s no way you’re going to question him now. You’re as compliant as ever, letting him adjust you and lift you onto his vehicle.

“Lay back,” he instructs next. “I’m going to take your panties off.”

Your heart races in your chest as you realize what he’s about to do, and you fall onto your elbows on the hood of his car, breathing heavily as Wonwoo leans down and begins to press kisses up your bare legs.

His fingers hook in your panties, and he drags them down, exposing your hot core to the cool evening air. You can’t help the gasp that leaves you, and as Wonwoo positions your thighs over his broad shoulders, you think you might actually faint from the tension.

His breath is warm against your entrance and your thighs quiver with anticipation. There’s nothing for you to grab onto while on the hood of his car, so you bundle your hands in your dress, pulling the fabric higher so Wonwoo has easier access to your core.

His own palms flatten along your thighs, fingers digging against your skin while he kisses closer and closer to where you need him most, his lips light like feathers.

“God,” you groan. “Please!”

The bastard smiles, and you realize how much he’s enjoying teasing you. How did your shy bowling alley boy turn into a demon like this?

He presses a soft kiss to your clit and the sensation has you gasping loudly. Most men who’ve eaten you out have started rough and ended rough, but it’s clear to you already that Wonwoo is not like other men. It’s absolutely insane how good the feather light touches can feel, and when he kitten licks your folds your stomach clenches.

“Please, I need more-” you beg, pushing your pussy closer to his face.

“Why won’t you let me enjoy you slowly?”

“Because-” your breath catches, “I need to cum!”

“Already?”

“Wonwoo, I swear to God-” You don’t even get to finish your sentence because he gives in, pressing his mouth against your core and pushing his tongue into your tight hole. Your hips push up involuntarily, and your clit brushes by Wonwoo’s nose, which sends shivers of pleasure down your legs.

He must notice the way you react from clit stimulation because he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, flicking at it with his tongue.

Your whole body tenses. You’re so close to your orgasm you could die-

Wonwoo groans against your pussy and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, pussy throbbing as you come undone for him.

Your eyes are clenched shut and your back arches off the hood of his car. Pleasure surges through your entire body, radiating out from between your legs. Wonwoo doesn’t let up on you though, he keeps licking your pussy, working you through your orgasm until you’re a complete quivering mess, shaking and moaning like you’ve never shaken and moaned before.

You’re breathless, body tingling with afterwaves of your orgasm when Wonwoo finally pulls away from your pussy. You watch under hooded lids as he wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, licking his lips.

With the limited light, it’s hard to see details, but you can tell his pupils are blown.

Honestly, condoms be damned, you need this man to fuck you, and you need it now.

“Wonwoo-”

There’s a flash of light and his gaze shifts past you. You hear the familiar crunch of tires on graveled dirt, and you realize another car is pulling down the path to the lookout.

“Shit,” Wonwoo cusses, standing up and fixing your dress over your thighs. He reaches out for your hand. “Come on.”

“What about you?” you ask, knowing he’s probably aching in his jeans.

“I’m not about to make you blow me in my car.”

“What if I want to, though?” you question.

Wonwoo takes a deep breath, pulling you to your feet and holding you close. “Another time,” he assures you.

You tug on the front of his shirt, letting your lips ghost past his own. “Are you sure?”

He nods. “I wanted tonight to be about you.”

“Blowing you can still be about me.”

Wonwoo laughs. “Next time.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise,” he confirms.

“You know… I like a man with self control.”

He simply shakes his head at you, letting you go so you can both get back in his car. “Let’s go for a drive,” he suggests, “because if we don’t, my self control might just snap.”

Your whole week is spent with you on edge, but your third date with Wonwoo finally arrives on your next Wednesday off. He’s suggested a movie date, and you’re not exactly sure how you’re going to get touchy with him in a car surrounded by other couples- but as the date approaches, you realize that you probably won’t be the only duo getting a little frisky while watching the new James Bond movie, Live or Let Die.

You’re waiting outside when Wonwoo picks you up, and you enter his vehicle, leaning over the bench seat to press your lips to the corner of his mouth. “Hi,” you grin. “I missed you.”

“I uh…” he swallows thickly, “I missed you too.”

“What time is the movie again?” you ask.

“Uh,” Wonwoo checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes?”

“Then we should get going.” You settle in your seat while he takes you to the drive in movie. He pays for your tickets, and rolls into the parking lot, finding a spot. Your windows are already down, and there’s a speaker set up outside your doors so you can both hear the sound.

“Do you want popcorn or anything?” Wonwoo asks.

“Not right now, maybe later,” you grin, sliding closer to him.

Wonwoo adjusts, resting his arm behind you and allowing you to tuck against his shoulder. “I’m happy to be here with you.”

“I’m happy you came,” Wonwoo admits. “I’ve been wanting to see this movie.”

“Yeah? You like spies?”

“I think the way Hollywood portrays them is… interesting.”

“Right, because you’re an expert on spies, huh?”

Wonwoo grins. “Something like that.”

He begins to play with your hair, stroking it gently, and you rest one of your hands on his thigh, enjoying the muscles and denim. God, it’s so hard to be near Wonwoo and not get horny, almost impossible you would say.

The film begins, and you do your best to focus on it, to no avail.

Wonwoo’s still stroking you, and each drag of his fingers by your hair makes your panties wetter. You’re determined to repay the favour he’d done for you last time, and finally you’ve had enough.

“Wonwoo.”

“Hmm?” He sneaks a glance from the movie to look at you.

“I need something to suck on.”

“I can go grab you something from the concession-”

“No,” you shake your head. “I need you to suck on.”

“You need…” he coughs. “You need me.” It’s almost as if he doesn’t believe it.

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

“I-” his words cut off into a groan when you cup him through his jeans, and you realize he’s already half hard.

“Looks like you need me too,” you smile, leaning forward to press your lips to the side of his throat. He jolts a little at the contact, angling his head back to give you more space to begin to suck on his skin.

“Fuck,” he groans, and the sound goes straight to your core.

Why’s he so sexy. Like. How is this legal.

You’ve decided Wonwoo is illegal. No one should be this hot. It’s a panty dropping hazard, as you’re beginning to see for yourself.

“Will you let me suck you off?” you ask. “Please?”

He swallows thickly. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you grin, pressing one last kiss to his cheek before you begin to undo his jeans. You’ve never undressed someone so fast in your life, and a few moments later he’s lifting his hips to allow you to tug his pants down, his cock springing free.

You lick your lips, already salivating at the sight of him.

He’s somehow perfect everywhere. From his handsome face and gorgeous hands all the way down to his pretty cock, which is probably around seven or eight inches. It’s a good thickness, with a vein running along the underside that you want to trace with your tongue.

“Just, make sure no one sees,” you whisper, as you dip your head down, hoping the car doors will hide your body from view of other movie goers.

“Angel,” Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath, “I’m pretty sure the guy in the car next to us is doing the same thing with his girlfriend.”

That makes you feel a little better, as you wrap your hand around the base of his cock and bring its head to your lips, kitten licking and earning a groan from Wonwoo. His hand finds your hair again, stroking you as you take more of him into your mouth.

You haven’t blown a guy in a while, and it feels empowering to be pleasuring someone again. Wonwoo’s small moans are already making this more than worth it, and his constant touch through your hair is extra encouragement.

You sink yourself onto his cock, taking as much of him as you can. You’re trying to be gentle, but you get more daring as you go, sucking harder, which makes Wonwoo’s hips jolt below you. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag slightly. His grip tightens in your hair, and he curses, breathing heavily.

You want to make this man cum like you’ve never wanted to make any man cum in your entire life, so you go harder on him, pushing through the discomfort in the back of your throat. You focus on your tongue movements, the pressure of your sucking motions and the way you’re bobbing your head.

“Shit,” Wonwoo groans. “Slow down-”

You refuse. This is personal. You want to see how fast you can make him come undone. You want Wonwoo to be mouth whipped for you, if he’s not already obsessed after having a taste of your pussy last time.

It might be a little insecure of you, but you’re not one hundred percent sure Wonwoo wants you the way you want him. You need to be sure. You need to know he’s not going to leave you, like most people in your life have.

“Angel,” Wonwoo’s voice lacks conviction, and you think he can tell you’re not intent on letting up anytime soon. When you release a moan around his cock, Wonwoo matches the sound. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You suck him even harder and Wonwoo pants above you, fingers flexing in your hair. He lets out a strangled sound as he reaches his high, and he shoots his load down your throat. You do your best to swallow like a good girl, continuing to bob yourself on his cock, wanting to milk him for all he’s worth-

“Shit, angel,” Wonwoo’s voice is breathless, almost whimpery, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. The last rope of cum goes down your throat and you finally let up, swallowing and pulling off his cock You take a deep breath, wiping your hand against the back of your mouth.

Wonwoo looks beautiful. His skin is flushed, his lips parted, and he’s looking at you in a way that no man has ever looked at you before. You want to kiss him so badly, but you’re very aware of his salty taste still in your mouth.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” you tell him.

“What?” He blinks. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” you nod, already reaching for the door handle. If you stay in this car with him any longer, you will jump his bones. You need the cool air and a breather, a way to slow your racing heart, and more importantly, you need your damned pussy to stop throbbing because you’re not getting laid tonight.

As you weave through the cars, you notice a group of men standing at the concession. They watch as you approach, and you do your best to downcast your eyes, feeling your skin heat. There’s no lineup for ordering and you’re quick to ask for two cokes, hoping that you’ll be able to head back to Wonwoo faster than people waiting for popcorn.

“Hey pretty girl,” one of the men calls, and it only takes you a moment to realize he’s talking to you.

You don’t respond.

“I said,” he steps closer, “hey pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here alone?” the man questions.

“I’m not alone.”

“I don’t see a boyfriend.”

“He’s in the car,” you insist.

“He must not care about you that much if he sent you out for drinks all by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Wonwoo’s voice makes you turn, and you let out a shaky breath at his sudden appearance.

“And who are you?” The man hitting on you puffs up his chest.

“The boyfriend who you don’t think cares,” Wonwoo says steadily. “I do care,” he turns to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and lowering his voice to address you. “You ran away pretty quick, are you okay?”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Just thirsty.”

“Two cokes!” the concession girl announces right on schedule, and you reach up to retrieve them, taking a sip of one and letting out a soft sigh while Wonwoo tosses a bill onto the counter.

“Come on, is this guy really your boyfriend?” It looks like the man harassing you doesn’t want to quit.

“I am,” Wonwoo confirms, for the second time, and it makes your heart race in your chest.

The man takes a step forward. “I want to hear the girl say it. I don’t believe you.”

“I think you better back off.” Wonwoo’s voice has lowered an octave, and you’ve never seen him behave this way.

“Or what?” The catcaller has about two inches on Wonwoo, and he’s built like a bull, puffing his chest out again as he looks down at the man you met in a bowling alley of all places.

“Maybe you should try me and find out?” Wonwoo suggests.

The big guy laughs, and then in one motion, he takes a swing at Wonwoo.

Wonwoo dodges the man’s fist easily, grabbing his forearm and adding to the forward momentum. Before you know what’s really happening, Wonwoo’s manuevered the man onto the ground, twisting his arm behind his back and pressing a knee just below that.

“I think you should say sorry for harassing my girlfriend,” Wonwoo says coldly.

“What?!” The man wiggles on the ground, but to no avail. Wonwoo’s thigh muscle bulges in his blue jeans and you think your mouth is watering again.

“Say you’re sorry.” Wonwoo twists the man’s arm behind his back and the man lets out a grunt of pain.

“I’m sorry,” he groans.

“For?” Wonwoo presses.

The man meets your gaze. “For harassing you, I’m sorry!”

Wonwoo lets up, standing and joining you again. “Lets go,” he says, grabbing one of the drinks from you before lacing your fingers. You allow him to guide you away from the man laying on the ground with a look of shock on his face.

You’re still quite stunned yourself, and you let Wonwoo pull you back through the cars toward his own. He opens your door for you and you get inside, taking a deep breath while you watch him go around the front to enter his own seat.

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

“Where the fuck did a guy who works in a bowling alley learn to pull a move like that on someone so much bigger than him?”

“Well-”

“Let me guess,” you hold up your hand, “If you told me you’d have to kill me.”

“Something like that,” he laughs.

You simply blink at him. “Who are you? Like really? Are you James Bond?”

“Definitely not,” Wonwoo grins. “Speaking of… should we continue watching the movie?”

All you can do is nod, but your mind is reeling, and you can’t focus the rest of the film. There’s so much about Wonwoo you still don’t know, and it’s making you insane.

When the movie finishes, Wonwoo pulls out of the drive in theater. “I can tell you’re still shaken up about what happened,” he muses, “and I want to make it up to you.”

“Really? How are you thinking of doing that?”

“I was wondering if you’d let me cook you dinner sometime soon.”

“At your house?”

��Yeah.”

“Okay,” you nod… maybe his house will provide a few clues to help you figure him out.

“Does tomorrow work for you?”

“Works great.”

Wonwoo looks over at you, and he reaches out a hand, lacing your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s meant as reassurance, but he doesn’t say anything else as he drives you home.

“Can I walk you to your door?” Wonwoo asks softly when you arrive.

“Of course,” you nod, exiting the car and waiting for Wonwoo to come join you so you can head up the walkway together.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he muses, “and not just because you sucked me off.”

The statement makes you laugh, shaking your head at him. “No? Bet you also enjoyed throwing that guy on the ground.”

“I enjoyed watching a movie with you,” Wonwoo insists.

“Sure you did,” you grin, turning to face him on your doorstep.

You know it’s probably just a matter of time before one of your roommates ruins the moment, and you think Wonwoo knows it too, because there’s no hesitation in his actions tonight. He grabs your hips, tugging you close so he can lean down and press his mouth to your own.

He’s confident, lips parting so his tongue can glide against your own. One of his hands releases your hips to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek while he kisses you.

Your stomach is in knots just from this, and you’re acutely aware that you haven’t actually fucked him yet, aware that tomorrow, you’ll be in his home, alone.

Your front door opens and Wonwoo breaks away from you. “Hi Mary,” he addresses your roommate.

“Hi love birds,” Mary grins.

You shake your head at the way she’s ruined the moment. Your panties are sticking uncomfortably to your core and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.

“I’ll uh… see you tomorrow?” you say softly, looking into Wonwoo’s pretty, dark eyes.

He nods. “I’ll come pick you up at seven.”

Wonwoo is a shockingly good cook. He’d made a baked chicken and pasta dish that he’d simply taken out of the oven after picking you up, plating the food while you looked around his little home.

Your first bite of food had made you almost groan, looking at him while he laughed. “Bet you thought I couldn’t cook,” he’d mused.

You’d admitted your expectations had been low, and the two of you had eaten dinner together, chatting about everything from his house being rented furnished, to a few towns he’d been in before coming here.

Wonwoo had given nomadic vibes, but as you listen to him speak, you realize how deep that constant need for movement runs. It strikes something like fear inside of you… when is he going to decide to leave this town? To leave you? Is there even a future for you both?

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to notice your distress, as you’re good at hiding it, and after you’re done eating, he suggests moving to the couch to watch a sitcom.

He sits down first, and after a moment of deliberation, you tuck close to his side. His arm wraps around you immediately and you lean against his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh while he turns on the tv. “Do you want to watch anything in specific?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I’m okay with whatever.”

A generic sitcom begins to play and you relax even more, enjoying the feeling of his arm around you. You could get used to nights like this… if Wonwoo wasn’t such a nomadic, unpredictable man.

Wonwoo’s hand begins to stroke up and down your arm, and you find it hard to even concentrate on the show while he’s doing this. You simply enjoy existing with him, and you haven’t experienced this type of peace with a man possibly ever.

An hour passes in this easy way, and Wonwoo begins to yawn, stretching his arms over his head. You wonder how he manages to remain so pretty even while yawning- sometimes you hate how attractive this man is. If he wasn’t so god damned sexy, maybe he wouldn’t have you wrapped around his finger the way he does.

“I’m getting tired,” he notes. “Maybe… maybe I should drive you home.”

“You could do that… or, you could let me cuddle you, and you could have a nap,” you suggest.

Wonwoo considers it, and he bites at his lip, looking deep in thought. “I’ve never uh… never napped with someone before.”

“Really?” Your brows raise in shock. “Well… don’t you want to give it a try?”

“Sometimes I have bad dreams,” he tells you quietly.

“Wouldn’t it be nicer for you to wake up with someone there to comfort you?” you ask.

Wonwoo blinks. “Would you really do that?”

“Of course!” you assure him, reaching out to gently squeeze his thigh. “Come on, if you get nightmares, I’ll even let you be the little spoon.”

“You’ll let me be the little spoon,” he repeats, not looking convinced.

“Trust me, it will help,” you assure him.

He still looks like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he allows you to maneuver him down onto the couch, with you removing the back pillows so the two of you can lay comfortably. You curl around his back, tucking a hand around him, placing your palm over his heart. A moment later, he threads his fingers through your own, locking you into a position that feels secure and warm and very loving.

He’s tense, but when you let out a deep breath, he mirrors you, and you feel him relaxing in your embrace.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he tells you.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I don’t trust myself.”

“Well, I can trust you for the both of us,” you say softly, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Have a nap. I’ll be here for you, no matter what happens.”

Wonwoo sighs, but he cuddles a little closer to you, and you can’t help but smile at the motion. You listen to him breathe while the sitcom chatters away in the background, and you’re pretty sure it only takes a minute or two for him to fall asleep.

The poor man, he must have been really tired for him to knock out so fast.

You enjoy holding him, and you get comfortable wrapped around his back. His broad shoulders obscure part of the tv screen from your view but you don’t mind, it’s not like you’re really watching anyways.

Focusing on your breaths, you allow yourself to fall in a state of deep relaxation. You’re not particularly sleepy, it just feels nice to be close to Wonwoo like this… even when he begins to twitch. You can tell he’s dreaming now, and you note the way the muscles in his arms feather- you wonder what dream Wonwoo is up to.

He settles down a little, and you’re glad that maybe he’s not going to wake up, maybe having someone cuddling him does help.

Your hope that your presence makes a difference is dashed not five minutes later when Wonwoo begins twitching again, but this time, there’s more force in it.

“No-” he mumbles in his sleep. “No-” he says again, but now he’s louder.

At this point, you’re not sure this counts as a nightmare, it’s pretty clear to you that Wonwoo’s having a night terror, and when he begins to shake, you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, clinging to his back. “Shh,” you whisper softly, reaching up a hand to stroke his hair. “It’s okay, it’s just a dream-”

Wonwoo jolts in your embrace, and then he’s sitting up abruptly, eyes snapping open, lips parting in gasps-

“It was just a dream,” you tell him again, louder now that he’s awake. You sit up and attach to his back again, running your hands up and down his arms. “You’re safe. You’re safe with me now.”

He’s still breathing heavily, shoulders moving with each sharp inhale of breath.

You hold him through it, knowing now is not the best time to ask any questions. You just want to support him, so that’s what you do.

After a while, Wonwoo starts to take more even breaths, and he rests a hand over yours, leaning back against you. He’s quiet, and he lets you simply hold him. You’re sure now that you’re providing comfort, and when you lean in to press a soft kiss to his neck, he lets out a deep sigh.

“I need to tell you something.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” you assure him.

“I do,” he insists. “Especially after what happened at the drive in.”

He must be referring to his ability to take down a man and pin him to the sidewalk, and to be fair, you have been wondering about that. You give Wonwoo the space to elaborate.

“I’m not even sure how to explain this,” Wonwoo sighs after a moment.

“Take your time.”

“This is going to sound crazy,” he says softly, and you can tell he’s working up the courage to get out what’s on his mind. “There’s no other way to describe it, so I might as well just say it. You’ve probably been wondering about the job I had before I started at the bowling alley.”

He pauses to allow you to confirm, and you give a small nod, leaning against his shoulder. He’s not looking at you, and you assess his side profile. It’s clear that this is going to be a turning point in your relationship with him, and you give him your complete attention for it.

“The government…” Wonwoo licks his lips, “well, they’d call me a rogue military asset.”

You take in his words, not quite sure how to react-

“I can’t go into details with you, I won’t, but… I can tell you that I never agreed with what the government wanted to use me for.”

The night terrors make sense now.

“They put a lot of time training me to be who I am, so… let's just say they wouldn’t let me leave without a fight. Technically, I’m court marshalled, but it’s worse than that- I’m on the run, moving from town to town- I can’t stay anywhere too long- it’s never been a problem for me, but then-” he swallows thickly. “Then I met you. It’s funny,” Wonwoo lets out a sad chuckle, “I’m trained to assess probability, but nowhere in my future sight did I anticipate meeting a girl I actually liked, someone I could confide in, someone who I could rest next to, who wouldn’t judge me for my dreams.”

“Wonwoo-” you whisper his name, and he turns in your arms, facing you.

“I don’t want to ruin your life,” he states. “Being with a guy like me, it doesn’t give you a future.”

“You wouldn’t be ruining it,” you insist, “and your wrong. It would give me a future, a future with you.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Let me be the judge of that, please.” You cup his face, and Wonwoo leans into your touch, his eyes meeting yours. You can’t help but lean forward, pressing your lips to his own. It’s a soft kiss at first, and you hope he can feel the emotion you’re pouring into it.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, adjusting so you can climb into his lap, straddling him on the couch while his tongue slides over your own.

His hands find your hips, and he applies a bit of pressure, helping you grind down on him. You can feel his cock in the denim of his jeans, and you’re a little surprised that he’s turned on so soon after a night terror, but at the same time, you’re not complaining.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper, breaking the kiss while his lips move to your throat. “I think… I think I should stay over tonight, in case you have any more night terrors.”

You feel him smile against your skin. “Is that the only reason?” he asks.

You grind your clothed core along his cock, shaking your head. “No.”

“Let me take you to bed,” Wonwoo says, grabbing at your ass and lifting you up easily. “I’m not about to have you on the couch.”

“You’re about to have me?” you grin.

“Unless you don’t want it.”

“I want it,” you confirm, lips moving to his neck while he carries you through his small house. “I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“Me too,” he says softly, fingers digging into your ass.

When you get to his bedroom, he lays you onto his bed softly before standing over you, looking down at your form. “You’re so pretty,” Wonwoo whispers, reaching down to trail a finger over your denim covered knee.

“Prettier with my pants off,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He lets out a small laugh.

“You should see for yourself.” You reach down to undo your jeans and as you pull down the zipper, Wonwoo grabs at the leg, tugging. Soon, your legs are bare, and you feel the cool air of the room against your hot, panty covered core. “Now's the time I tell you I’m also cuter with no underwear.”

“I remember,” Wonwoo nods.

His words make a hot lick of pleasure tease up your pussy, and you grab at the bottom of your shirt, tugging that off next so all you’re left in is a bra and panties.

Wonwoo begins to get onto his knees but you shake your head. “We’ve had enough foreplay. Enough teasing. I want you inside of me.”

“Are you sure?” Wonwoo kisses your inner thigh, and the feeling makes you close your eyes, leaning your head back to let out a sigh.

“I’m sure,” you confirm. No matter how good his tongue might feel, you’re aching to get to his cock.

“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” he asks, breath hot as it fans up your legs.

“Because I’m impatient,” you can’t help but laugh, writhing in his sheets. “Because I need to know what you feel like.”

Wonwoo lets out something of a hum, and he presses a kiss to your thigh before moving up your body. His lips drag over your stomach and up to the swell of your breasts while he climbs on top of you, hands pressing against the mattress on either side of your head. His nose nuzzles by your throat as he kisses there too, and when you tug on his soft hair, he finally makes it to your mouth.

You groan against his lips immediately, wrapping your legs around his hips while tugging at his shirt. He allows you to tear it off of him, breaking the kiss for only a moment before you’re dragging him back to you.

His tongue glides across your lip and you open your mouth for him, allowing him to trace your teeth. You like the feeling of him, like what he does with his tongue.

His hand slips under your back and you arch yourself for him, making it easier to take off your bra. He pushes at your straps next, and you lose your patience, pulling the fabric from your chest and exposing your boobs to the man who makes you hornier than you’ve ever been in your entire life.

Wonwoo dips his head down, pressing kisses over your breasts until he reaches your nipple. His free hand begins to gently massage your other boob while his tongue begins to trace your pebbled bud. It feels like magic, and you thread your fingers in his hair, releasing a groan.

He sucks gently on your nipple, taking his time.

You’d said no foreplay, but you’re okay with this. You can feel yourself beginning to soak through your panties, and when Wonwoo switches from one breast to the other, you practically throb at how well he’s taking care of you.

Sounds of pleasure are slipping past your lips now, and you get lost in the feeling of his mouth on your chest, his hands groping what his tongue isn’t playing with.

You wonder how long it’s been since he had his face in a nice set of boobs, and you allow him to enjoy it. He’s clearly having the time of his life, and you can feel him beginning to grind down against the mattress between your legs.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper tugging at his hair.

He murmurs against your breasts, but doesn’t let up.

“Need you inside, please,” you beg. “You can keep sucking on my boobs, but, I need you inside of me right now.”

“Let me grab a condom,” Wonwoo says, pulling off your chest to reach into his bedside table where he takes out a square foil.

He sits back onto his knees between your legs, tearing open the package while you work on his jeans, getting his belt undone and his zipper down.

You can tell by his movements that he’s starting to get impatient too, and when he looks down at your panty covered core and smirks, you have a feeling you know whats coming next.

“How much do you like these?” he asks, hooking a finger in the fabric.

“Just ruin them,” you laugh, not wanting to wait another moment.

“You got it, angel,” Wonwoo grabs your panties with both hands. He tears one side, freeing a thigh, before repeating the motion on the other side, then he tugs the ruined clothing item off your body and tosses it onto the floor.

“Don’t even bother with your pants,” you say, pushing them down his thighs, “just fuck me with them at your knees.”

“You weren’t kidding when you said you needed me.”

“I’d never kid about that,” you giggle, watching him roll the condom onto his thick cock. The moment he’s done, you’re grabbing at his shoulders, pulling him down on top of you so you can crash your lips to his own.

He ruts his hips, cock grazing through your pussy folds, teasing your clit.

“Please,” you groan, feeling absolutely insatiable. He’s so close, he just needs to put it in-

Wonwoo reaches a hand between your bodies, adjusting his cock to your wet hole. “Are you sure?” he asks.

Instead of answering, you wrap your legs around his hips, applying pressure to force him inside of you. He lets out a groan as his length sinks into your wet heat, his mouth moving hot against yours again while you get his body flush to your own.

You both moan loudly when he’s inside of you fully, your greedy pussy taking him all after the build ups you’ve had in numerous dates.

“Do you like is fast or slow?” Wonwoo asks, lips moving to your throat.

“Slow, then fast,” you respond, tracing his broad shoulders while you relax into the feeling of him.

“You got it, angel,” Wonwoo says, starting to move his hips. He rocks slowly, the tip of his cock dragging by your sweet spot as he begins to make love to you.

It feels like heaven, and you get lost in him, moans slipping out of you with each thrust.

True to his word, Wonwoo’s pace gradually quickens, his fingers digging into your hips to pin you to the bed. He’s so big and sexy and- everything you’ve ever wanted in a man.

You hold him like you never want to let him go, and the way he kisses you makes you think he feels the same.

There’s no dirty talk, and you don’t mind it. You’re just two souls quietly enjoying each other. The only sounds are primal noises of pleasure and the soft slapping of skin on skin.

As his pace builds, so does the feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Wonwoo’s moans don’t help your situation, and each groan has your pussy practically throbbing with need.

His shoulders are your anchor, your broad, lovely, wonderful, sexy anchor, and you hold onto them tightly, eyes shut while you enjoy him.

When Wonwoo’s thrusts become almost piston like in nature, you cry out, and Wonwoo breaks your kiss to bury his face against your throat. “You close?”

“Yes, fuck, Wonwoo-” you whimper, so close to your high you can almost taste it.

“Want me to cum with you, angel?”

“Yes, God, please-” you nod quickly, digging your nails into his shoulders.

Wonwoo groans deeply. “I’m almost there-”

“I can’t hold it,” you’re nearly crying now, overwhelmed by how good this feels.

“Then cum,” Wonwoo states, voice husky as he reaches a hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your clit. “Cum with me, angel.”

This is the last straw, and your pussy clenches tightly around his cock, orgasm slamming into you while you hold onto Wonwoo as your life line. You gasp loudly in his ear, waves of pleasure washing over you. In fact, you see stars, vision clouding behind your lids as you’re overtaken by Wonwoo and everything he does for you.

He’s still groaning in your ear, and his thrusts are harder now. You can tell he’s cumming too, and the thought only makes your orgasm last longer, pussy milking him for all he’s worth.

You’re not sure when exactly he begins to slow down, but soon he’s coming to a stop on top of you, gasping loudly. His heart is thundering in his chest, and you can feel it through your breast where you’re pressed together.

You reach up to stroke a hand through his hair, also working on your ragged breathing.

He holds you for a while, but finally he’s forced to pull away. “Let me get rid of the condom, then we can sleep,” he says softly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom just down the hall.

You stare at his ceiling, still overwhelmed with everything that’s happened.

Wonwoo might not know what his future holds, but you’re certain that as long as you find a way to be part of it, you might be happy forever.

Waking up next to Wonwoo had been wonderful. There hadn’t been any more night terrors, and Wonwoo even mentions it as you make breakfast together. “I haven’t slept that well in years,” he muses, holding you close and kissing your neck.

“Then you might have to keep me as a safety blanket,” you tease, although… you do mean it.

The comment is enough to make him groan and he turns off the stove, neglecting breakfast in favour of throwing you on the table and eating you as his first course.

He buries his tongue inside your core, making you cum three times before the day has even really started. Then he sits you down and plates your meal, sitting across from you and watching you with dark eyes exaggerated by circular spectacles that set off the handsome features of his face.

“When can I see you again?” he asks when you clean up from breakfast.

“Working tonight,” you sigh.

“I could pop by, if you wanted me to.”

“As long as you don’t drink coffee at my eight pm shift,” you giggle, remembering what your chef had said about Wonwoo’s obscure proclivities.

“I promise,” Wonwoo smiles. “I’ll get a burger again.”

“Then you can come see me at work,” you grin, stepping closer to Wonwoo while he wraps his arms around your form, tugging you to his chest.

You’re getting way too used to him, but you can’t stop yourself, all you can do is watch while you fall deeper and deeper into the world of Wonwoo.

You’re downright giddy when Wonwoo shows up in the middle of your shift. He’s always cute, but today, with his circular glasses, he takes your breath away.

He waves as he enters the diner, and you call for him to take any table. He takes the same booth as last time and you’re quick to get him some water, scurrying over with a smile.

“Hi,” you greet him.

“Hi,” he repeats. “How’s your shift going?”

“Better now that you’re here,” you say honestly. “You still want that burger?”

“Can you give me a couple minutes?” he asks. “I think I want to watch you run around for a bit. The sooner I order, the sooner I have to get out of here.”

“Are you going to stare at my ass, Wonwoo?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“Stare away.” You wink, turning on your heel and heading to check in on a different table.

It’s interesting to have his eyes on you like this, to know he’s happy just watching you while you work. He’s such a softie, and you adore him.

You’re grabbing food from the kitchen for a couple when the diner bell rings, and you look up to see four cops coming in. It’s not that often that police come to the diner for an aftershift meal, but tonight seems to be one of those nights.

They’re regulars, all things considered, and with a short wave to you, they take their favourite table, two down from Wonwoo.

Your gaze shifts to the man who’s just told you he’s on the run from the government. He’s playing with his cup of water, but that’s the only indication that he’s nervous. His body language is otherwise relaxed, and you think maybe he’s simply a good actor.

You grab four menus for the cops, and a tray of water, casually walking over them to pick up a conversation about how their night is going.

As you serve them, you notice one of the cops peering over at Wonwoo, and you can feel anxiety building in your stomach. “Can I grab you anything?” you ask, trying to take the man’s attention off of Wonwoo. “Tea, beer-”

“A beer would be nice,” he nods.

You give him a list of what you have in bottles, and he chooses, but as soon as you’re done with him, his eyes move to Wonwoo again.

You head to the main counter, where you put through the drink orders.

The bell to the diner rings, and when you turn to greet the new guests, you don’t see anyone standing at the door. You do, however, find Wonwoo’s booth empty, and your heart drops in your chest.

You’re walking home from your shift when a car pulls up next to you. For a moment, you feel your heart begin to race, but then Wonwoo’s rolling down his window and calling out to you, “Hey, angel.”

“Oh my gosh, Wonwoo-” you stop in your tracks to look at him.

“Can I give you a ride home?”

“Of course,” you respond immediately, heading around his car to get in.

“I’m sorry I left so abruptly,” he apologizes when you enter, closing the door behind yourself.

“I understand why you did it,” you sigh. “You were probably worried one of those cops would recougnize you.”

“Exactly,” he nods. “This is why…” he swallows thickly. “This is why I never stay in one place for too long.”

His words hurt.

They really hurt.

“Look…” you choose what you say next very carefully, “if you do decide to leave town, please don’t do it without coming to talk to me first.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Wonwoo says softly.

The rest of the short ride is quiet, and when he stops in front of your house, he leans over and cups your face, pressing his lips to your own.

When he pulls away, you stay staring at him. “Call me anytime, okay?”

He nods. “You got it, angel.”

It’s been two days since you last heard from Wonwoo, and you’re hanging out at home before a shift when the phone rings. Something inside of you makes you jump from the couch, running to answer the call before either of your roommates can.

“Hello?”

“Hi, angel.”

“Wonwoo-” you let out a deep breath. “How are you?”

The line is quiet for a moment, and you hear him sigh. “I’ve been better.”

“Did something happen?”

“Not yet, but… I expect it might soon.”

You try to figure out what he’s saying. “Does that mean…”

“I’m leaving,” he says, as assertive as you’ve ever heard him. “I have to go.”

Your skin heats and you feel hot pricks in your eyes. You hold back tears, taking a deep breath and squeezing the phone in your hand. “Let me come with you.”

“I told you, this isn’t a life for you-”

“And I told you I don’t care!” You can’t contain yourself anymore, and you feel bad the moment the loud words are out of your mouth. Jessica looks at you from the other room and you turn your back to her, lowering your voice. “It’s not a life for you either, Wonwoo. You can’t live alone forever. You can’t.”

“Some days I think I was built to be alone.”

You can’t help the tears now, and you choke a little on the sob that works its way up your throat. “Wonwoo, please-”

“I don’t want to do this to you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me now!” you insist. “Wonwoo you can’t leave, not right when-” you cut yourself off, closing your eyes and leaning your shoulder against the wall. “Not right when I’m falling in love with you.”

The line is dead silent, and each second is like an hour. You’re shaking now, anxiety flooding your system. “Wonwoo? Are you still there?”

“I have to leave soon,” he says finally. “We wouldn’t have room for furniture, or-”

“I don’t care about furniture,” you insist. “All I need is a bag and you.”

“This is crazy,” Wonwoo sighs.

“People do crazier things for love…” you bite at your lip. “You do love me too, right, Wonwoo? That’s why you’re open to this?”

This time, there’s no moment of contemplation, he simply answers, “Of course I love you, angel. How could I not?”

This time, when you let out a small cry, it’s not sadness. It’s a release of pent up emotion, emotion you’ve been holding in for who knows how long. You’re not sure how Wonwoo came into your life and flipped it upside down, but you are sure about him. More sure than you’ve been about anything in your life.

“Your roommates aren’t going to be mad about you abruptly leaving?” Wonwoo asks.

You turn to look at Jessica. “My roommates will get over it,” you state. “When are you picking me up?”

“Can you be ready in an hour?”

“I’ll be waiting outside with my bag.”

“See you then… and angel?”

“Yes, Wonwoo?”

“I do love you.”

“I love you too.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this collab, find the masterlist for it here

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🔮 preview. “We could always practice making babies,” you suggest. Wonwoo lets out a loud laugh, the kind of laugh that lights up his face in the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. “Practice, huh?” He releases a deep breath, hands moving to your hips to pull you closer to his bare chest. “I hid your condoms,” you say. It sounds like you’re teasing him, but you are, in fact, being completely serious. “Come on…” you plead, leaning forward to ghost your lips over his throat, “have some fun with me.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected/raw sex, sex, fairly vanilla sex, Wonwoo is a park ranger so he’s built, hand grabbing, heavy panting/breathing, Wonwoo is pleasure vocal, talk about making babies, oral (f receiving), Wonwoo loves eating pussy, fingering, multiple orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

bonus

The first few months being nomadic with Wonwoo had been bitter sweet. Every time you were getting used to a town, something would happen that would cause you to run. Eventually, however, you found a fit.

Wonwoo had stumbled upon a job opening as a park ranger, and it came with a log cabin a half an hour drive from the closest town, the small house nestled discreetly between the trees Wonwoo would be hired to take care of.

It had helped that one drive through the area had proven to Wonwoo that the cops were lazy, more interested in their donut runs than doing their jobs.

You’ve been living with your park ranger boyfriend for over a year now, and the cabin feels like home.

Wonwoo wakes up with the sun, and sets off to do a run through of the trails. You take your time waking and cook breakfast, or you head in to town in your second hand beat up truck for supplies. There’s a library that hired you and the scheduling is relaxed-

You have everything you could ever want… well, almost everything.

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#wonwoo #wonwoo smut #svthub #svthub.collab #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #svt #svt smut #seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo seventeen #wonwoo svt #wonwoo svt smut #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #svt wonwoo smut #seventeen wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader

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lovelyhan · 8 months

Text

— every summertime ⟢

you're not really interested in the record shop downtown. but people aren't oblivious to the way you keep trying to get into the owner's pants—not even the owner himself.

★ FEATURING; jeonghan x afab!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 16.1k words

★ TAGS; 70s au, playing hard to get, bad bad bad decisions, friends questioning said decisions, reader is a slut in theory but not so much in practice (at least...in the beginning), pining?, angst but like, only a microcosm of angst, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ WARNINGS; alcohol consumption

★ NOTES; if i told you all about how much this fic has changed over the last three months i've spent writing it, you'd all be sick of me going back and forth with the direction i wanted this to go lmfao !!!! i don't think i've ever suffered writing anything as much as i did with this, so i'm proud to be sharing the fruit of every one of my trashed drafts to all of you :') i sincerely hope you all like it T T

this is part of the svthub 70s;teen collab!

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness, dom jeonghan bc i just Need him to dom me, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, dacryphilia kinda?, cockwarming

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti--red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @dearjeonwonwoo - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin - @98-0603 - @peachhiz

★ JEONGHAN TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @scandal-in-bohemia - @bias-recs - @lunaryoongie - @haoxiaoba - @ak6ko

“Ji, I got you a present!”

Your best friend of over ten years glances at you momentarily while he’s in the middle of replacing the strings of his guitar. There’s an unimpressed look on his face when he does it—no different from the way he looks at you whenever you walk in a gritty session of Dungeons and Dragons back in high school. Only this time, you’re being downright annoying for another reason entirely.

“I’m pretty sure you already have all the Led Zeppelin vinyls in existence so I just picked out whatever from the shelf instead,” you tell him nonchalantly as you bring out a spiffy-looking record of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon. “This one’s nice, isn’t it?”

It is, but here’s the thing:

“I already have that.” Jihoon affixes you with a blank stare as he gets up from his seat, letting his fingers glide across the alphabetized collection on his own shelf.

Ten seconds later, your best friend pulls a carefully preserved vinyl with the exact same album art plastered on the front, making you lower the one in your hands in abject disbelief. But Jihoon has been friends with you long enough to know that something like this isn’t enough to fluster you.

“Consider it a high quality dupe then.” You giggle maniacally before letting yourself fall on top of Jihoon’s bed and hold the sealed vinyl tightly to your chest. “Jeonghan looked soooo gorgeous today. I was really down in the dumps when I heard that he cut his hair, but there’s just a different appeal when guys have it shorter. You get me, right?”

“I really don’t,” Jihoon deadpans as he plops himself back into his chair, coiling a roll of fresh nylon around the pegs of his guitar. “Don’t you ever get tired of spending your summers chasing after a guy that obviously doesn’t like you back?”

“Don’t you get tired of lecturing me when we both know I’m never gonna listen?” A simper escapes your lips before you engage the Stevie Wonder poster on Jihoon’s ceiling in a staring contest. “Besides, it’s not as if I like like him! I just want to fuck him—big difference.”

There it is—the classic why am I even best friends with you sigh that only makes Jihoon more endearing than he already is. “Let me rephrase then: why do you keep chasing after a guy who obviously doesn’t want to fuck you back?”

Stevie Wonder ends up winning when you shoot back up into a seating position, letting out an obnoxious laugh that you stifle with the same vinyl you supposedly got for Jihoon. “Au contraire! It might seem that way, but you just haven’t seen a person as deep in his own denial as Jeonghan is.”

“Second door to the left—bathroom’s there. I highly recommend that you take a long, hard look at yourself in the mirror.” Jihoon’s jaw ticks when he says the words but as long as he isn’t blatantly kicking you out of his room, you’re still within tolerable range. “Didn’t Mingyu set you up with one of his friends? I clearly remember you telling me about it before the semester ended.”

Ah, that’s right.

Two weeks ago, Kim Mingyu—one of the many friends you’ve left in your hometown—called the telephone that you shared in an apartment with four other girls. When the housemate that answered told you about some guy with a lisp looking for you, you quickly ditched whatever notes you were pretending to read for a quick conversation.

Of course, once Mingyu dropped the call, you quickly turned the telephone dial to ring up your best friend with a pressing question: Mingyu wants to set me up with some guy named Jungkook. Do you know him?

Jihoon, however, has never met anyone that goes by that name his entire life, which made you draw the conclusion that this Jungkook person must be Mingyu’s friend from another city. He tends to collect people like trading cards and you can’t fault him for it. Mingyu is pretty charming.

Charming enough that you agreed to go hang out with him and Jungkook once you’re back in your hometown.

“Well, he hasn’t contacted me about it again so my Jungkook appointment is on hold until then,” you point out with a huff. “Plus, I don’t see why I should stop trying my chances with Jeonghan just because I’ve got another boy reserved.”

“I don’t remember you being this much of a man-eater last summer.”

“Yet you still love me anyway.”

Despite already having one in his possession, Jihoon accepts the blasted Pink Floyd vinyl and places the dupe right next to his first copy on the shelf of collectibles. The conversation drifts onto different topics ranging from your mutual struggles with work and the supposed girlfriend that Soonyoung may or may not be lying about. Then right after he finishes restringing his guitar, your best friend walks you home just like old times.

When you’re halfway to the front door of your house, however, Jihoon calls out your name—a sound barely audible in the evening breeze, but you turn around with a questioning look anyway.

“Don’t be too pushy with Jeonghan, okay?” He instructs sternly. “I know you’re just fucking around, but really, you’re better off investing your time in better things. In better people. Not someone who only keeps you around as a source of entertainment.”

You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand for added flair. “Fucking around? I’m very serious about getting my insides rearranged by him!”

Your best friend makes a face. “Y/N.”

“Just kidding, Ji. You, of all people, should know that I know my limits!” you reassure him with a smile. “Why do you think Jeonghan still speaks to me warmly whenever I walk inside his shop? Whenever I run into him at the disco?”

“Because you’re his customer? And he’s after your money? And maybe he’s a pretty decent person outside his reputation as a sexual fiend?”

“Well that might be true, but that’s also because he’s interested in me too!”

“Good night, Miss Delusional.”

“Good night, Mister Enabler!”

This is pretty much a good summary of your relationship with your best friend. You willingly get yourself tangled up in something incredibly stupid, he tells you off like he’s your mother every time he finds out, and once things start crashing down, you run over to Jihoon in tears while he consoles you for something that’s a hundred percent your fault. It’s quite the understated miracle how he’s tolerated you for so long, but that’s precisely why you’re best friends in the first place.

But there’s this one thing that you can’t tell even Jihoon about.

“Were you finally out on a date with Jeonghan?”

Your sister, Luna, asks when you make your way to the living room to say hi. She’s nose-deep in one of those Stephen King novels, but her eyes stray away from the pages to spare you a momentary glance.

You snort. “As if he’s that easy.”

Luna hums before her eyes wander back to her book. “Mmm. You’re right. If he was, he would’ve gone out with you like, I dunno, three years ago?”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“And you’re such a coward,” she snorts. “You know, if you just told him hey I’ve been in love with you since we met at Joshua’s graduation party instead of asking if he wants to sleep with you, your odds of getting with him would skyrocket.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” you chuckle before stepping inside the living room to ruffle her hair—an act of affection that Luna receives with distaste. “Quit making unnecessary comments about my sex life and help me with dinner before Mom and Dad get home.”

“Your non-existent sex life?”

“Oh, screw you.”

After having dinner with your family, you quickly retreat to your bedroom to retire for the evening before Soonyoung can call your house phone to ask if you’re down for a night out. It’s practically tradition whenever you’re back in town, but your last conversation with Jihoon has been weighing heavily on your mind since you walked inside your house.

Despite there being a one hundred percent chance that you’ll run into Jeonghan again if you go out with your friends, you’re strangely not in the mood to mingle like you always do.

You’re better off investing your time in better things. In better people.

That might be true, but…

How can you possibly break free of a cycle you’ve always found yourself tangled up in every summertime?

THREE SUMMERS AGO

A few nights before graduating from college, Hong Jisoo—better known as Joshua—decided to throw an unforgettable party at a disco club his stepfather owns and monopolizes an entire chain out of. You’re not sure how he managed to pull the strings and smuggle enough booze to make the entire graduating class drunk, but old money does wonders especially in a town as small as this.

You recall it vividly because that was the first time you met Jeonghan.

He was a new face in a crowd of people you practically grew up with. But even if he wasn’t, you still would’ve been able to pick him out of the sea of graduating seniors with ease because of how breathtaking he looks.

His hair was brown when you met him, the tips barely tickling the nape of his neck with bangs framing his soulful eyes. You caught him sipping on a glass of something you can’t really name and the moment your brain managed to process the existence of such a beautiful man in such a boring old town, your immediate reaction was to turn to Mingyu.

“Who’s that? Violet jacket, white pants? I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”

Mingyu hums before looking around—something made easier by his towering height. “Oh! That’s Jeonghan—Joshua’s brother.”

“Brother?” Jihoon pipes up right next to you, mirroring your surprise. “I thought Joshua was an only child.”

Seungkwan hisses as he ushers the four of you into a miraculously vacant booth near the jukebox, looking around as if your conversation was under threat of being eavesdropped on. “Pipe it down! We don’t want to get kicked out of the party for talking smack about Joshua’s family.”

“We’re not talking smack, we’re just confused.” Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Is it so bad to wonder about the newcomer when the entire disco has been eyeing him up and down? Look, even Soonyoung stopped mid-dance just to talk to him.”

True to Jihoon’s observation, another one of your friends, Kwon Soonyoung deigned to step off the dancefloor to exchange a few words with this Jeonghan person. Their interaction lasts for merely a few seconds with Soonyoung obviously taking a liking to the newcomer—a hearty laugh piercing through the song playing on the jukebox as he nods before heading back to whence he came.

Jeonghan was grinning the entire time too—a lazy, laid-back yet attractive smile—and fuck…

You might have a nasty case of love at first sight.

“So are you going to explain why Joshua suddenly has a brother or are we going to be in suspense the entire night?” Mingyu whines in his seat.

Seungkwan huffs. “Alright, alright! Apparently, Joshua’s stepdad has another son who used to live several cities away. No one knows why he moved into this old dump, but hey, more eye candy for everyone, I guess.”

“Is he single?” you blurt out.

Mingyu’s expression twists with smugness. “Why are you curious? You’re not trying to go after him, are you?”

“And if I am?” Brows raised, you fold your arms together as you stare the six-foot puppy down. “It’s like Seungkwan said—he’s eye candy! It won’t do anyone any harm to try and get to know him better, right?”

“Are you sure that’s a wise decision to make when you’re going to be traveling a lot for work?” Jihoon ponders seriously. “What happened to being ready to leave everything behind and starting anew?”

“Hey, it still counts as starting anew when I’m trying to get with the new guy in town.”

That’s when it starts.

Jeonghan is easy to talk to. That night, you learned that he moved into town because the big city was much too stifling for him to bear; that he gets along swimmingly with his stepbrother despite their parents’ sudden remarriage; that he isn’t really interested when you boldly asked if he wanted to go out sometime.

It’s no big deal. Not like you went into that conversation with high expectations. The fact that he even entertained you was already a miracle on its own. You can take your losses with your head held high—because it’s no big deal.

But then you saw him leaving the disco with some woman you don’t recognize. You’re not sure who she is and what her relation is to Jeonghan, but the smiles they exchanged as the man of the hour escorted her outside would be forever engraved in the back of your head.

The rest of the evening was a blur. You thought you’d be able to wipe the image of Jeonghan going home with someone else off your mind with enough booze, but even when you wake up with a hangover the next morning, the ghost of his pretty smile still haunts you.

You carry it with you even after graduation—all teary eyes and tight hugs exchanged with the friends you spent your entire life with. While Soonyoung is in the middle of telling you to memorize everyone’s house telephone numbers so you can keep in touch while you’re away, you spot Jeonghan in the crowd of visitors filling the university quad..

He’s with Joshua and their parents, happily congratulating the youngest for his most recent milestone. You're sure you were at least subtle enough with how you observe him from the corner of your eye, but he catches you staring anyway.

Instead of breaking eye contact immediately, however, Jeonghan holds your gaze and cracks another one of those lazy grins before waving. You have to look around to see if he was gesturing towards anyone else, but to your surprise, it seems that you’re the intended recipient.

Naturally, you don’t let it get to your head. You’re leaving town in three days and maybe it isn’t such a good idea to keep hankering for someone who made it clear that he isn’t into you.

But then Jihoon thought it would be a great idea to drop by this newly opened record store in Main Street. So I can give you a little souvenir when you’re thousands of miles away, he said and you were so touched with the sentiment, you actually went along with it.

The excitement you’d racked up at the idea of receiving a gift from your best friend, however, was easily eclipsed by the person that greets the two of you once you enter the front door of the shop.

“Good morning,” greets a chipper-looking Jeonghan wearing denim overalls with the name of the shop embroidered on the front pocket. “How can I help you two?”

Jihoon quickly recovers from the initial surprise and utters, “Oh, um, I wanted to buy a few cassette tapes for my friend. Can you direct us to the right aisle?”

Jeonghan nods before leaning across the wooden counter to direct you two to a row of shelves on the far right. “Just go down that one and you should be able to find what you’re looking for. They’re all arranged by the artist’s names.”

“Cool. Got it.”

Before you can even get a word in, your best friend proceeds to drag you off to the stack of cassette tapes—ducking behind the shelves to make sure Jeonghan doesn’t see what goes on.

“What’s he doing here?” he hisses quietly.

“Do I look like I have a clue? You’re the one who planned this,” you point out with your arms folded. “Just when I thought you were against me making a move on Jeonghan, you proceed to bring me to the place where he works anyway.”

“I still am! I just didn’t know he’d be here too…”

“Well, don’t get your panties in a twist and just let me pick out my gift so we can leave. How’s that?”

Though he’s visibly disgruntled with the knowledge you’ve both been presented with, Jihoon grunts in agreement before you flutter off to the neatly organized shelf. It reminds you of the one back in your best friend’s room. He’s been big on collecting vinyls and cassette tapes for as long as you can remember, so it’s natural for Jihoon to be drawn to this newly opened record shop.

When you end up taking far too long to make up your mind about what you want, Jihoon eventually migrates to the other spots in the store—checking out the other merchandise being put up for sale with a quiet look of amazement shining in his eyes. The sight of him in his natural habitat has you chuckling to yourself before your gaze rivets back to the collection of tapes you’re supposed to choose from.

Of course, you’re startled by Jeonghan appearing seemingly out of nowhere right next to you.

“You’re taking your sweet time,” he chuckles, offering up another smile that makes your heart do somersaults. “Say, aren’t you the one who asked me out at Shua’s graduation party?”

You stare him down like he just personally affronted your entire family before clearing your throat—making a show of grabbing a random tape from the rack to examine its contents. Anything to get you to look at anything but Jeonghan’s stupidly beautiful face.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” you laugh uneasily. “And I’m only taking my sweet time because I don’t want to repetitively play an album I don’t even like on my Walkman.”

“Fair. How about I offer up a few suggestions then?”

That makes you arch an eyebrow. “Sure. What do you have for me?”

He hums for a moment before reaching for one of the higher levels—easily accomplished by his height. The gesture has you backing up against the wooden shelf to give him some more space, but the close proximity has your face flaring with warmth.

“Here,” Jeonghan offers before handing you a cassette tape that looks pretty brand new. “The Beatles is cliché for a reason and I personally think Let It Be was the best way to end their time together. But you might also be interested in Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors. It’s a personal favorite of mine.”

He then proceeds to reach for another tape from the store’s vibrant collection and gives it to you—the lazy smile on his face never faltering.

“Hmm, which one should I get though?” you wonder while comparing the two. “My best friend over there rarely gets me gifts and I’m not about to abuse the privilege by getting two.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “The other one’s on the house then.”

The nonchalance in his tone makes your face twist with disbelief. “What?”

“I said it’s on the house. You can have your friend pay for one while you get the other for free,” he explains. “Think of it as a limited time promo of sorts.”

You grimace. “Um, I don’t think I saw any signs outside that said you’re offering a Buy 1 Take 1… Won’t the owner of this place be furious with you or something?”

“Now how can I ever be furious with myself, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure what baffles you more—the fact that Jeonghan turns out to be his own boss or the fact that he just addressed you with some nickname that has you blushing like a schoolgirl.

“Y/N, are you done—oh.”

Saved by the bell—or rather, your best friend—Jihoon walks back into the scene with surprise coloring his features. He’s got a couple of vinyls and a box of guitar picks hefted in his arms as he stares at you and Jeonghan all alone in the aisle.

“Ji, I finally got to pick some out,” you beam while holding the two tapes Jeonghan recommended. “The owner said it’s a Buy 1 Take 1 so…”

He mutters the words the owner under his breath before his gaze zeroes in on Jeonghan who simply waves at him with a cheery air.

“Oh, I-I see,” Jihoon clears his throat. “Thank you for being so generous. You really didn’t have to. She doesn’t even care that much about music in the first—”

“Anyway,” you interject loudly before directing yourself to the counter. “Let’s go check these out. We’re meeting Mingyu and the rest of the guys for lunch, aren’t we?”

You pack up your business with Jeonghan fairly quickly. He places your most recent purchases in individual plastic bags, handing them to you with an ever-present smile. Even when you’re already seated at the diner you chose to hold your farewell lunch in, your mind still toys with the memory of Jeonghan calling you sweetheart.

Though if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think of Jeonghan much when you eventually move out of your hometown to pursue your work. You make new friends and colleagues, kindle a few romances here and there, and still keep in touch with a select few you’ve left behind.

Of course, Jeonghan does cross your mind whenever you deign to listen to the cassette tapes he personally picked out for you, but starting over completely in a new city every few months certainly gives you a fresher outlook in life.

Yet whenever you come home for the summer, it takes little for you to start regressing into old habits you thought you’d already outgrown.

TWO SUMMERS AGO

“When did you arrive in town?”

You nearly spill your drink all over that same violet jacket he was wearing the night you first met him—heart rate spiking at the sight of such a gorgeous face. Jeonghan leans across the counter where you and Seungkwan deigned to catch a breather after dancing your hearts out to Earth, Wind, and Fire. Thankfully, you’re able to mask the surprise upon seeing him again with a warm smile.

“Just this afternoon actually,” you chuckle before taking another sip. “I didn’t think you’d still be here. Big city boy like you should’ve gotten tired of this place in the first month.”

“I could say the same for you,” Jeonghan rebuts with an easygoing grin. “You’re a big city girl now too, aren’t you? But you’re back home anyways.”

“Well, Y/N actually has friends to come back to or else we’ll hop on the earliest flight to wherever the hell she is to come get her ourselves,” Seungkwan interjects beside you with a huff. “What’re you even doing here? Don’t you have a date waiting for you or something?”

Despite convincing yourself that you were over that fleeting crush on Jeonghan, you still feel your shoulders sag at the thought that he was here tonight with someone else. Thankfully, neither Seungkwan or Jeonghan notice the shift in your countenance.

“I do, actually. I was just going to pick up a couple drinks I ordered earlier. Can’t a man treat her to a Tequila Sunrise?” Jeonghan pouts and just in time the bartender stationed behind the counter places two glasses of a vibrant-looking drink in front of him. “Well, it’s nice to see you again, Y/N. I hope the tapes I sold you kept you good company while you were gone.”

Oh. He still remembers that.

“They did,” you affirm all while trying to keep yourself from smiling too much. “I can always rely on the taste of someone who literally owns an entire record store.”

“Well, if you need some new tunes to groove to, you know where to find me,” Jeonghan says with an attractive wink, butterflies beating their wings inside your stomach.

It’s only when Jeonghan walks back to the booth he’s sharing with his supposed date—a pretty blonde with shiny dangling earrings that glimmer in the disco lights—that you realize that maybe you haven’t really gotten over him like you initially thought.

Unfortunately for you, Seungkwan gets the same idea.

“Jihoon’s not gonna be happy about this,” he drawls before taking another sip of his drink.

“Well, he’s not my mother.”

“Your mother won’t be happy about you getting the hots for someone who sleeps with different women every weekend, but okay.”

You brush off his comments with a shake of your head, downing the rest of your drink as you tug him out of his stool. “Whatever. Come on, let’s go find Soonyoung and the others.”

Apart from your usual circle with Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Soonyoung, they’ve made a couple more friends in the local university they decided to attend together. They introduce you to Seokmin, a theater major with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen—and for some reason, they’ve all managed to befriend Joshua Hong himself as well.

The new additions to your growing group of friends fit right in. Even Joshua, who you’ve always thought of as some snotty trust fund baby, proved to be quite enjoyable company. To your delight, your first night back after almost an entire year of being away turns out much more worthwhile than you initially thought.

For the rest of the night, you try your best to keep your mind off of Jeonghan and focus on mingling with your friends again. God knows how badly you’ve missed them—the occasional phone call can’t ever hold a candle to hanging out with these lunatics in the flesh.

But despite having loads of fun just watching Soonyoung engage someone apparently named Minghao in a dance-off, you can’t help but feel like someone’s watching you.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Jeonghan’s eyes in the crowd.

His date is resting her head on his shoulder—obviously buzzed from the drinks she’s consumed for the night. You’re not sure if it was pure coincidence that your gazes locked in such a packed crowd, but before you can even think about waving at him, Mingyu yanks you to the dancefloor to duke it out with the rest of your friends.

The heat of Jeonghan’s gaze sears into your being like a soldering iron kissing your skin. Every time you try to look for him wherever the boys would unwittingly drag you to have some fun, you’d find his intense stare still affixed on your form. If it was anyone else, you would’ve been unnerved by the scrutiny he’s giving you especially when his date is literally half-asleep next to him in their booth.

But maybe part of you will always want Jeonghan—even if you’ve convinced yourself otherwise.

When the night comes to an end, Mingyu and Seokmin do the honors of carrying a ditzy-drunk Soonyoung inside Joshua’s SUV. It proves to be a fool’s errand at most because of course Soonyoung would make it a point to be difficult while all his well-meaning friends just want to tuck him back to bed—breaking into a quick dance every five steps forward.

“Hey, I’ll just go use the washroom first,” you whisper in Jihoon’s ear. “I won’t be long.”

Your best friend nods. “Yeah, we need someone to look after these idiots. Seungkwan would just provoke Soonyoung into doing something even more stupid.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Seungkwan complains.

You break away from them momentarily with a giggle before hoisting the strap of your purse over your shoulder and making your way to the washroom.

There are a couple of other disheveled disco-goers trying to make themselves look a bit more presentable. You decide to take a vacant spot by the mirror to touch up your makeup, dusting bits of glitter with unknown origin away from your face. Once you’re all set, the others have long left the washroom—prompting you to make your way out of the building before the owner closes its doors.

However, once you make it back to the main area, you spot Jeonghan on one of the barstools—speaking to a man with dyed blue hair, while his date is nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?” Jeonghan calls out despite your best effort to brisk walk to the door. “You’re still here? Your friends didn’t ditch you or anything, right?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. They’re waiting for me outside. They were struggling to get Soonyoung inside your brother’s car so I thought I’d go freshen up first.”

“Shua’s car? I didn’t know you two were friends,” he comments with brows raised. “I asked him about you back then but he said he and you haven’t spoken two words to each other.”

Wait a minute. He asked Joshua about you?

“That’s because you’re always too friendly, Han,” the other man whose name you don’t know interjects with a roll of his eyes. “You probably know all your customers and mine by name at this point.”

“You’re being funny again, Cheol,” Jeonghan snickers before turning to you once again. “Y/N, this is Seungcheol. He’s the new manager of this particular branch of our father’s discotheques. He’s also a very good friend of mine.”

You glance at Seungcheol with a nod. “Hi.”

“Hmm, your friends are a bunch of regulars here, but I don’t think I’ve seen you around,” he observes.

“That’s because this little bird has been away for work for the past year,” Jeonghan supplies while twirling a glass of what looks like bourbon in his hand.

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow at him. “You sure know a lot about Y/N.”

“Well, she was one of my first customers and her best friend is one of my most loyal regulars,” he laughs before taking a sip, grinning so handsomely, you can almost feel your knees give out at the sight of him. “Tell Jihoon I said hi once you meet up with them again, yeah?”

“O-Okay,” you stammer, clutching your purse much too tightly for someone who’s just having a casual conversation with a bunch of guys who aren't your friends.

“I’ll leave you for a while. I’m going to go check on your sister and make sure she hasn’t thrown up all over my desk,” Seungcheol excuses himself with a pat on Jeonghan’s shoulder.

“Your sister?” you repeat with an incredulous ring to your voice.

“Mhmm. My biological sister,” Jeonghan hums in affirmation as Seungcheol steps out. “Not so different from you, she’s been traveling in and out of the country for work and decided to pay me a visit while she’s here. Though I didn’t expect her alcohol tolerance to be…like that, which is why I had her rest in Cheol’s office for the meantime.”

Your mind processes his words at lightning speed—quickly pulling out the memory of Jeonghan with his supposed date with her head on his shoulder.

“So your date was your sister?” you clarify.

“Why are you making it sound like it’s a bad thing? Can’t I take my sister out on a few dates?” He shakes his head.

“I never said anything like that!”

Jeonghan places a hand on his chest in feigned offense, shaking his head with a dramatic sigh. “It’s alright, I’m quite used to being falsely judged.”

“You are so dramatic,” you snort.

“So I’ve been told,” he laughs airily before putting down his glass, getting up from the stool he decided to occupy. “By the way, there’s a little something that’s been bothering me since you came over here.”

As your present company draws closer to you with each word, your heart swells with equal parts anticipation and dreadful curiosity.

Something’s been bothering him? Did you perhaps do something wrong? That’s a little impossible because you could’ve sworn you’ve done your best to ignore him the entire—

“You’ve got some glitter right…” Jeonghan murmurs as he cups the side of your face with a warm hand, thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth.

“Here.”

It’s as if time came to a standstill when he does it—holding both your gaze and your breath captive in the lush brown of his eyes. You always wondered what it would feel like to have Jeonghan’s skin on yours and of all the ways it could’ve happened, this isn’t exactly part of your list of delusions.

He’s so close and so pretty and he smells so good—

“Are you sure you don’t want to go out sometime?”

You don’t even realize that your thoughts have translated it into words until Jeonghan’s expression morphs from relaxed to mildly surprised. He pulls away only a little before his lips twitch into a smile that borders on taunting.

“Oh? You’re still on a mission, huh?” Jeonghan simpers. “You’re a persistent little thing, aren’t you?”

Maybe it’s just the alcohol you’ve consumed making you just a bit braver than you usually are, but your mouth just won’t stop running.

“Well, I wouldn’t be this persistent if you didn’t give any signs that you might’ve lied to me the first time I asked.”

“Hm? And what makes you think I was lying?”

Your shoulders heave with a soft laugh, folding your arms together as you hold his gaze with confidence oozing out of your posture. “Yoon Jeonghan, if you really aren’t interested, then why were you watching me the entire night? I’m not blind you know. You weren’t being subtle either.”

“What if I was just extremely happy to see one of my first ever customers back in town?” he chuckles, the tone of his voice aggravatingly leveled for someone you’re supposedly cornering. “And sorry to say, sweetheart, but I don’t really go out with any of Shua’s friends.”

His reasoning makes you heave an incredulous laugh as you recall the way he stared at you earlier tonight like you have a target on your back. You want to make it a point that you’ve only considered his stepbrother as a friend on this same night, but decide on going at this with a different approach.

“Okay,” you respond coolly, challenging the nonchalant smile on his face with one of your own. “If you don’t go out with any of Joshua’s friends, would you sleep with one?”

You don’t know how, but you’ve managed to make the distance between you even smaller. Jeonghan doesn’t budge even as you stare at him with fire in your eyes—even when your skin prickles with electricity from the sparks of something inevitably flying between the two of you.

Once upon a time, you resigned yourself to the fact that Jeonghan would be nothing more than a fleeting, unrequited crush. But who knew that all it would take is a single night after months of not seeing him to make you realize that maybe things aren’t really what they seem?

“My, I’ve never had anyone come onto me this strongly before,” he muses with a soft laugh. “But your friends must be looking for you. No one takes that long to retouch in the ladies’ room, no? You best be on your way, Y/N.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” you deadpan with an amused smirk. “If I told you I’d leave you alone and never bother you with this again if you really, truly aren’t interested, will you answer me then?”

A voice that sounds like a strange mix of Jihoon and Seungkwan wails in the back of your semi-inebriated mind. What the fuck are you doing?!

You want to respond back that you completely know what you’re doing, but you’re well aware that the half the words you’ve uttered during the entire course of the conversation would never even get past your lips had you been in a better state of mind.

But for all of Jeonghan’s inclination of playing hard-to-get, he leans closer to your ear—the hand he places on your bare shoulder nearly searing his mark onto your skin.

“Maybe next time, sweetheart.”

This game you’re playing with Jeonghan eventually becomes commonplace.

You spend a chunk of it deliberately getting under his skin. While you certainly made all those bold declarations under the influence, you quickly realized that the day after Jeonghan gave you his cryptic answer, you’re completely serious about this so-called mission.

So you brought out all sorts of ammunition that would make your mother weep with how you’re practically flaying yourself open for a man. You’d purposely wear tight-fitting clothes that emphasized the dips and curves of your body, show up to every night out where you were certain Jeonghan would be present, and of course, hang out at his record store more times than an average person would willingly spend in her boring old hometown.

Jeonghan—ever the infuriatingly level-headed person he is—takes all of it in stride. Where your friends have raised eyebrows with how you’re openly pursuing the most un-pursueable man you all know, he doesn’t treat you any differently from the way he usually does.

He still entertains you whenever you sneak up on him at the disco, still accommodates your unnecessary purchases in his store…

Still flat-out rejects your advances even if he’s borderline flirting back.

It’s a constant push and pull that Jihoon might be sick of hearing whenever you deign to come over to tell him about the progress of your pursuit—or lack thereof. But since he’s taken up the mantle of your best friend, this is the fate that he has to live with.

“You do know that you’re dancing with a wolf over there, right?” he points out one night while he’s busy writing a song and you’re flipping through a magazine on his bed. “The other guys have told me enough stories about how he’s always got a different date every time they’re at the disco. He’s a raging Casanova, Y/N. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“How can I get hurt when I’m just after a good time?” you chuckle as your ears ring every time he strums his guitar. “If he’s such a Casanova, then why hasn’t he tried to make a move when I’m openly expressing how into him I really am? Have been for, like, two years now!”

“If I knew the thought process behind how he responds to you, I wouldn’t be stressing as much as I have for the past two years,” he grumbles.

“You worry too much about me, Ji. I’ve already fooled around with some guys here and there. What’s another one from my hometown?”

Jihoon turns to glance at you with a tired look on his face. “But Jeonghan isn’t just some guy. He’s Jeonghan.”

You want to refute that statement by saying that you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. But for someone who mostly keeps to himself, Jihoon has an extremely good perception on things. He probably already knows things about Jeonghan even if you don’t say them outright.

The owner of the record store in Main Street is undoubtedly alluring. He’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen—beautiful enough to have you hope time and time again that you can call him yours. What’s more is that the chemistry between you was established the moment he teased the possibility of you getting what you’ve wanted since you met.

Maybe next time, sweetheart.

No matter how risky it is to toe this jagged cliff of your mutual interest, you’ve always been a glutton for danger.

ONE SUMMER AGO

Your game plan after settling your bags into your house is simple: drop by Jeonghan’s store to let you know that the biggest thorn on his side is back in town and check if he magically wants to fuck you this time around. It’s a routine that your friends have long grown tired of—seeing no point in interfering when you’re so dead-set to get with Jeonghan however you can.

It’s pretty pathetic, but you’re anything but a quitter.

Although contrary to popular belief, screwing Yoon Jeonghan isn’t always the only thing running through your head whenever you’re home. Take right now for example.

You’d just finished unpacking your things into your room when you realized that you’d forgotten to place one of the cassette tapes that Jihoon personally made for you inside its usual protective container—discovering that the outer casing was cracked through the middle while the plastic film lolled out of the rupture, dangerously close to being torn in the state you found it in.

If it were any other cassette tape—even the ones Jeonghan personally picked out for you before you left—you wouldn’t have been fazed. These things are replaceable, especially when Jeonghan would have a dozen other copies waiting for you in his store.

Except this tape in particular can’t be replaced because Jihoon spent a fortune getting it personally manufactured for you. He recorded a few of the songs he personally wrote into the film and had it mailed to you as a surprise—a thoughtful attempt at easing your homesickness for the holidays.

There wasn’t a day when you didn’t listen to your best friend sing with the help of your Walkman. Your old cassette tapes from Jeonghan definitely took a backseat once you received Jihoon’s present in the mail with a letter he personally wrote attached to the package.

And now it’s broken because you were an idiot who didn’t pack it somewhere more secure—

“Sweetheart, I’m closing early tonight. If you’re going to ask if I want to sleep with you, you should try…”

Jeonghan’s playful tone falters when he sees that you’re sniffling in the oversized parka you hurriedly pulled from the coatrack before heading over to the only person who can possibly salvage Jihoon’s precious gift. You don’t say anything as you place the broken cassette tape on top of the wooden counter—eyes downcast as Jeonghan peruses what you’ve presented for him to inspect.

“T-That’s really important to me,” you murmur, wiping the tears off your face as your eyes rivet themselves on the smiley that Jihoon doodled right next to the message he wrote for you on the outer cover. “Can you fix it? I’ll pay you up front.”

As the store owner you’ve been crazy about for the better part of three years examines the crime scene before him, he lets out a soft laugh that has you glancing at him inquisitively.

“So Jihoon made you your very own tape, huh? How sweet of him.” He smiles comfortingly—devoid of the usual mirth and amusement he typically showcases in your presence. “Don’t worry too much, yeah? The outer shell is damaged, but the tape reel itself is still intact. I’ll just replace the casing and you’ll still be able to listen to this just fine.”

Your eyes widen ever-so slightly. “Really?”

Jeonghan’s smile spreads even wider as he leans across the counter. He’s tall enough that he can reach you without much difficulty, his knuckles softly brushing against your cheek in a quaint attempt at drying your tears.

The sight of him so close to you is equal parts foreign and familiar. His gesture reminds you of the time he brushed some glitter off your face last summer, but the provocative look in his eyes back then is nowhere to be found. All Jeonghan offers you right now is solace over something that you probably overreacted about.

“I’ll go check if I have some spare cassette cases in the back before I try to fix this, okay? You can have a look around the shop in the meantime.”

Jeonghan punctuates the words with two soft pats on your cheek, his soft smile never faltering as he directs himself to the door behind the counter—Jihoon’s broken present carefully cupped in his hands.

As promised, your knight-in-denim-overalls manages to fix one of the most precious gifts you’ve received in your lifetime. You nearly jump to embrace him when Jeonghan reemerges from the back with the cassette tape more or less good as new, but he quickly side-steps your attempt out of the fear that you’ll end up breaking the damn thing all over again.

“How much do I owe you?” You’re practically humming with glee as you bring out your wallet from the pocket of your jeans. “Thank fucking god, Jeonghan. I was so close to losing my mind over it.”

“I’m the one who revived this patient and you’re thanking god? Way to discredit an artist for his craft.” The store owner pouts. “I’ll let this slide and tell you that you don’t have to pay for a thing.”

“I insist.”

“You can pay for it in other ways, you know.”

Once the words are out of his mouth, silence settles over the two of you in near-deafening fashion. The bustling of cars and other vehicles from outside is the only sound you could hear as you mull over what his words could possibly imply.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” You gape, eyeing him incredulously.

As Jeonghan hands you back your perfectly repaired cassette tape, the corners of his mouth twitch with a conniving smile. “What do you think I’m saying, sweetheart?”

That you can pay for his services with sex? Isn’t that the usual implication when it comes to things like this? But that doesn’t seem right.

Even if you should be elated from being so much closer to your goal, it feels like you’re cheating. You’ve been subjected to this seemingly endless chase for so long that in the ideal event that Jeonghan would finally cave and let you sleep with him, this definitely isn’t the way he’d concede. You know him well enough to say that for sure.

So instead of pouncing at your prize like some slobbering mutt, you choose your words carefully—making sure to not step into that conversational bear trap he so obviously set up.

“No idea. You tell me.”

Jeonghan simpers before dusting off his overalls, carding his fingers through his dark hair. He’s wearing it a little longer this summer and you’re really digging the look more than you probably should.

“How about we stop by the roller rink later? My treat. You can pay me back with your company.”

A large scowl immediately roots itself on your face. “Aren’t you already doing too much?” For someone who’s been pestering you like a fly every summertime, you’d like to add but obviously didn’t. “Seriously, let me just pay you for the repair and we’ll be even.”

Adamantly, he shakes his head. “I don’t have any rates for tape repairs, so consider it as a favor. I also mentioned that I was closing up early tonight, remember?”

“Uh, what does that have to do with—”

“Seungcheol begged me to come to the roller rink to teach him how to skate because apparently this lady he’s been eyeing is a figure skater. Poor guy doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her on their first date this weekend,” Jeonghan explains swiftly before chuckling to himself. “He’s kind of unteachable so I thought I’d bring some backup.”

Your face twists with even more confusion. “And what made you think I’m any good at roller skating?”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Gut feeling.”

And that’s how you wound up in the town roller rink at eight in the evening when you promised Luna you’d be home to watch The Exorcist on your father’s VHS player.

Jeonghan is awfully difficult to say no to when he’s the one doing all the pestering and even though your roller skating skills are subpar at best, at least you’re not as pitiful as a man named Choi Seungcheol.

“These aren’t even roller blades,” you point out all while stifling a laugh. “What’s the deal, Cheol? Is your center of gravity that shitty?”

“Say that to me when we’re in a taekwondo match, I dare you,” Seungcheol huffs as he grips the metal railing for dear life. “The things I do for a gorgeous girl…”

Jeonghan skates over to his friend with a smirk, tugging on his arm. “Come on, now. You won’t impress your date if you keep ambling by the sides like a spaz.”

In an attempt to become the devil’s advocate, you take Seungcheol’s other arm in your grasp as well. “Yeah. If you weren’t confident about this, why’d you ask her out here? Actually, who on Earth schedules the first date at a roller rink?”

“I wanted her to know that we have common interests!”

“And skating is your common interest?”

“...No, but at least she’d get the idea that I care about what she does for a living.”

With the newfound determination to not embarrass himself in front of the gorgeous figure skater, Seungcheol lets you and Jeonghan teach him the art of not falling on your ass every time he glides forward. This goes on for about thirty or-so minutes until he finally gets the hang of it and is out and about in the rink full of teenagers that are looking at him funny.

This is when you decide to wind down and hang out by the railings as well, watching your student test out if he can do a little spin now that he’s sort of mastered the basics. Unfortunately for Seungcheol, he slips and lands on his back after the attempt—immediately scrambling back to his feet before any of the younger skaters could laugh at him for the mishap.

“Hope you don’t mind that I whisked you off for an impromptu tutoring session.”

You don’t even startle when Jeonghan materializes beside you like he almost always does—his eyes also trained on his poor friend while he practices what he’s been taught. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you stare at him with a shake of your head.

“I’m supposed to be marathoning horror movies with my sister, you know,” you chuckle. “Dunno why you asked me to come with you to teach the unteachable, but I’m glad I could help.”

He lets out a quiet laugh of his own. “I just wanted to give you a warm welcome is all. Haven’t seen you in a year.”

“Even if all I do is ask if you want to have sex with me?”

“Hey, all friendships are built on different foundations. Ours just happens to be more unorthodox than the rest,” Jeonghan points out, like it’s common knowledge. “Besides, don’t you think it gives the friendship more spice when one of us keeps asking the other if they want to sleep together?”

You punch him in the shoulder. “You’re so weird.”

“And you still want me to fuck you despite that. I think that says a lot more about you than it does about me.” He grins and your throat constricts with how pretty he looks.

Just before you can open your mouth to dish out another snarky response, the song that comes up on the speakers switches into something familiar—the crowd of skaters immediately erupting into cheers.

“Oooh, Dancing Queen,” Jeonghan marvels as he pushes himself off the railing before yanking your hand. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Can’t let Cheol have all the fun now, can we?”

You’re no dancer but you’ve spent so many nights with your friends at the disco that you can’t really refuse when ABBA says that you can dance and you can jive. It’s a little more challenging when you’re literally wearing roller skates and Yoon Jeonghan is spinning you around while his head is thrown back in laughter, but you can manage,

It feels so strange to be doing this with him. You’ve gotten used to just coming up to Jeonghan to hit on him and get rejected before going about the rest of your day, so you don’t really know the protocol when it comes to fooling around with him in a roller rink.

But instead of psyching yourself out too much, you just let yourself loose in the moment.

It’s…nice. You can feel the music in your veins as you burn the memory of Jeonghan grinning as he twirls you amidst a sea of roller skaters. Something pangs in your chest—a feeling you’ve felt with your other romantic prospects from the past, but never with Jeonghan.

Just when the song is about to end, however, you lose your footing and end up slipping onto the polished wooden floor. It would’ve been less embarrassing if you hadn’t hooked your arm around Jeonghan’s waist to balance yourself, but you both end up toppling into a heap.

“Shit, sorry!” you groan, rubbing your tailbone as you try to collect yourself. Your legs are right on top of Jeonghan’s though, so it proves to be somewhat difficult to get back to your feet without bracing your hands on the ground.

Which is exactly what you end up doing just to keep yourself from face planting.

Jeonghan isn’t able to school his expression fast enough when you straddle his hips in the middle of the roller rink—eyes lit up with surprise as you stammer apology after apology. You really want to fucking stand up but you’re so shaken up by the chain of events that you can’t find the right balance.

“So much for your center of gravity, huh?”

You and Jeonghan both jump at the sound of Seungcheol’s voice—the other man sporting a smirk of his own as he stands over the two of you. Thankfully, instead of simpering at the fact that you got a taste of your own medicine, he offers a hand for you to take—one that you take more gingerly than you meant to.

The three of you eventually hobble back to the waiting lounge together, making jabs at each other’s slip-ups for the night. Hanging out with these two men is just as fun as hanging out with your old friends and you’re glad to know that you’ve found such worthwhile company despite being away for most of the year.

After returning your skates, Jeonghan tells you and Seungcheol that he’s just going on a quick bathroom break and you agreed to wait for him before heading home. Your student then takes the opportunity to strike up a conversation.

“Hmph. And you thought this wasn’t an ideal spot for a first date.”

Puzzled, you glance at Seungcheol with a questioning look. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Han,” he continues. “This is your first date, isn’t it? Took him long enough.”

Took him long enough? Seungcheol’s words sound so silly, you actually end up laughing at the foolishness of it all. “What? Jeonghan? Taking me out on a date? You didn’t hit your head while you were practicing, did you?”

“Hey, I might be a newbie, but once I learn, I never forget it,” Seungcheol huffs before crossing his arms. “And, yeah, is it so strange for Han to ask you out? Sure, you’re never really here like half the time—”

“I wouldn’t say half the time. I only ever get short breaks in the summer”

“Hey, summer breaks aren’t short… Okay, maybe they kind of are, but that’s not the point!”

“Whatever your point is, it’s pointless,” you snort. “He always turns me down whenever I ask if he wants to sleep together. How could he possibly want to take me out on a date?”

Seungcheol makes a face. “You’ve been asking him what?”

“...If he wants to sleep together?”

“Well, that’s because you’ve been asking the wrong question!”

“I’m not! Look, that wasn’t always my go-to. The first time we met, I asked if he wanted to go out sometime. He said no. And it’s been a…thing between us for me to constantly ask even if I know he’ll just turn me down.”

“...Doesn’t that just make you pathetic?”

“You know, you’re a lot different when you’re outside the disco.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Anyway, you should really recalibrate the way you’re trying to get with Jeonghan because even if he’s the biggest manwhore I’ve met, when he actually gets serious, he—”

“Now what could you two possibly be talking about?”

Like he always does, Jeonghan waltzes into the conversation with the most opportune timing. He glances at you and his friend curiously as he slings his arms around both of your shoulders—a conspiratorial grin weaseling its way onto his face. “Sounds to me like it’s something interesting.”

“I was just about to tell Seungcheol that you don’t go out with Joshua’s friends, hence the complete impossibility of this being a first date,” you clarify—face heating up with embarrassment at how ridiculous you sound right now. “I mean, would a proper first date include teaching your hopeless friend how to roller skate?”

Seungcheol snorts. “You obviously don’t know what Han considers as a proper first date.”

“But she’s completely right about that specific preference of mine,” Jeonghan agrees without missing a beat. “Now that this is all cleared up, how about we drive her back to her house? It’s getting late.”

That night, you climb under the covers of your bed reeling from that conversation you had with Seungcheol. You still think it’s downright silly for him to assume that Jeonghan took you out on a date when he clearly just sees you as a friend.

Yet when you think about it a bit more, isn’t it more ridiculous for you to still be going at this game you’ve been playing with him for the past three years? Asking a man who’s way out of your league to sleep with you like some hooker on the streets?

The way Jeonghan receives your advances doesn’t help your predicament in the slightest either. Most men would be unnerved by the fact that some woman keeps trying to get in his pants, but Jeonghan practically considers it as a thing that friends do. He simply turns you down without treating you any differently, and you’re starting to second-guess whether he’s just that good of a person or if he’s only keeping you around to amuse himself.

Seungkwan would tell you that you’ve got little to no respect for yourself. Jihoon would just sigh and tell you that he honestly expected better from you, and you wouldn’t fault either of them, really.

Because even when the odds are stacked against you, you’ll always find your way back to Yoon Jeonghan.

THE PRESENT

Much to everyone’s surprise, you’re able to go two straight weeks without seeking out the object of your prolonged affections.

You make plans with anyone and everyone else there is to make plans with—going on a picnic with your sister, helping Jihoon write a song, hitting the arcade with Seungkwan. Anything to keep yourself away from Jeonghan.

Hell, you even agreed to meet Jeon Jungkook in the flesh when Mingyu finally remembered that he set you up with him a month ago.

First impressions last and Jungkook definitely blew all your expectations out of the water when he pulled up in front of your house with a shiny Harley Davidson that boasted far more horsepower than your father’s old minivan. He’s the textbook definition of a badboy if his piercings and full sleeve of tattoos are anything to go by.

But for someone who hasn’t even met you before, he was thoughtful enough to bring flowers for your mother, a bottle of wine for your father, and Stephen King’s newest release for Luna when he arrived at your door with a boyish smile.

When Jihoon caught wind of the news, he immediately came over to your house to confirm if it’s actually true—a completely drastic shift from your usual habit of coming over at his.

Apparently, your mother ran into him at the grocery store and fessed up all about this wonderful biker who took Y/N out on a candle-lit dinner at the only decent restaurant in town to your best friend. It’s painfully obvious that Jihoon mirrors her excitement when you tell him that yes, your first date with Jungkook actually went better than expected.

You thought Jungkook was the type of guy that your best friend would avoid at all costs. Jihoon hates loud noises that don’t contribute to his musical creativity and your newest flame’s motorcycle would definitely be an issue if your best friend ever hears him rev it up.

And yet when you finally introduce them to each other, they hit it off at lightning speed. Turns out Jungkook was also a music major when he was in college and you find yourself lost in a sea of jargon as the pair engrosses themselves in a conversation regarding their mutual interests.

Jungkook gets along swimmingly with your other friends too.

You should’ve trusted Mingyu’s judgment when he first told you that his friend can blend into any circle he chucks himself into because now you can only watch in awe as he and Sonyoung duke it out at your usual disco—exchanging high fives when the song on the jukebox comes to an end and the rest of the crowd cheers at them from the sides.

“How’re you liking our little town so far?” you ask when he returns to the booth you’ve claimed for the two of you, giggling when he leans down to press a kiss on your cheek.

“You seriously downplay this place too much,” Jungkook sighs, unable to suppress the grin on his face. “Sure, there aren’t a lot of things to do, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who’s as passionate about dance battles as Soonyoung over there. Joshua, Seokmin and Seungkwan are brilliant company, too. Oh, and how could I forget about Jihoon? I’m seriously pissed because Mingyu didn’t introduce me to them sooner.”

Your bottom lip swells into a pout. “Only them, not me?”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh that makes your skin tingle, leaning closer enough that you can feel his breath on your face. When he smiles, his lip ring glints in the colorful lights of the disco.

“Baby, if we’ve met any sooner, you’ll probably get sick of me.”

“And why is that, Mr. Jeon?” you whisper.

He hums for a moment, tracing the outline of your lips with the heat of his gaze. “I’ve been told that I’m a very passionate lover. You might not be able to handle it.”

“And who’s to say you’re the judge of that?”

“Well, we can get out of here so you can see for yourself, no?”

Your face heats up at the notion of what he’s trying to imply. It’s a little silly because you’ve spent so much of your time practically throwing yourself at Jeonghan that when another man expresses interest in you, you suddenly clam up out of embarrassment.

Jeonghan…

Even if you’re being pinned in place by Jungkook’s weightful stare, your gaze still goes over his shoulder—straight to the bar where you know he’s been watching you.

The moment your gang of loud friends piled into the disco one after the other, you were quick to pick up on Jeonghan’s presence as he spoke to Seungcheol at the bar and from the way he snapped his head in the direction of your group, you like to think he’s just as privy to yours too.

Especially when his eyes zeroed in on Jungkook’s arm around your waist.

This time around, instead of hounding the guy with the same question you’ve been asking for years, you do your best to ignore his existence altogether. It was easier than you expected because Jungkook has the ability to make you forget about everything else when you’re in his company. He’s charming and sweet in ways that don’t leave you second guessing his intentions. The man wants you and he needs you to know that in whatever way he can manage.

But even if you’ve got a handsome badboy under your spell, Jungkook’s charms don’t work on you with the same intensity as a single gaze from Jeonghan.

He isn’t smiling at you like he usually is—lips nearly twisted into a frown as he watches Jungkook crowd you in your shared booth. While most of your body language would suggest that you’re receiving your beau’s affections openly, the fact that your eyes are trained on the man you’ve been trying your best to get over would tell Jeonghan another story entirely.

Which is what ultimately makes you let out a breathy laugh before lightly pushing Jungkook off of you.

“Easy there, tiger. We’ve been dating for, what? A month?” you remind him with a somewhat forced smile. “You might be one of the two hottest guys I’ve met in my life, but I still believe in the art of taking your time.”

“The two hottest guys?” Jungkook parrots, amusement coloring his face as he leans back on the leather upholstery of your seat. “Who’s the other one then?”

You force yourself not to look at Jeonghan so you wouldn’t give yourself away. After all, you haven’t lost yet. It’s perfectly normal to still think about the man you may or may not have been in love with for years when you’re in the middle of getting over him. Whatever you and Jungkook have going isn’t a lost cause just yet.

“No one important,” you insist before tugging him back to his feet . “How about you come dance with me instead of asking silly questions, loverboy?”

A hint of skepticism crosses his face for just a moment before he concedes, letting you drag him back to the dancefloor as you try your damnedest to ignore the way Jeonghan’s gaze never strayed far from you for the rest of the night.

Summer is almost coming to an end and your boss has already mailed you some documents containing the details of your next job. You read through them while you’re bundled up in blankets in the living room with Jihoon, who seems more excited about it than you are.

“You’re going to Paris?” your best friend gawks. “That’s actually insane. I thought only the filthy rich could go there in this economy.”

“Well, if you land yourself some work in a pretty well-off company, you can gain more benefits than you’d otherwise expect,” you chuckle. “How about you come with me? You can go busking in front of The Louvre or something. Then the Parisians would discover just how talented one Lee Jihoon actually is.”

“Or I could get arrested by the Parisian police force.” Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Thanks for the offer, but I am not as ambitious as you are.”

“Hmph. Suit yourself then.”

While the two of you are busy planning an itinerary for the entirety of your trip, the telephone rings down the hall and you get up to answer it.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jungkook’s smooth voice rings in your ears after asking the caller’s identity, making your face warm with how flustered you are. “Heard tonight was best friend’s night so I wasn’t really supposed to bother you, but Gyu wanted to throw me a surprise birthday party and he was wondering if you and Jihoon want to come with.”

“It’s not a surprise anymore if you’re the one inviting guests though?” you point out with a laugh. “And your birthday isn’t until a few days.”

“Yeah, you’re right, but one thing about Mingyu is that he can’t keep a secret for the life of him. What’s more is that we already have dinner plans for my special day, remember?” Jungkook sighs. “Anyway, are you two going to show up or am I gonna be miserable the entire night because you’re not here?”

“Where even is here, Jungkook?”

“At the disco, where else? Mingyu rented out the entire place for the occasion.”

“Hmm, maybe you should start dating Mingyu instead.”

“God, no. So are you coming or not?”

It’s funny how you don’t even hesitate when you answer, “Sure thing. I’ll go tell Jihoon about it.”

“Aw, baby, you sure know how to make the birthday boy happy. See you soon.”

You hang up on Jungkook after bidding him a farewell of your own, heart beating just a little bit faster at the exchange. You know you’re not obligated to come to his not-so surprise birthday party since you already made plans with Jihoon to marathon a couple of movies, but even if you and Jungkook aren’t really a thing just yet, you still feel like you should at least be there to celebrate alongside your friends.

Jihoon agrees to it without a hitch—god knows how much he adores Jungkook. And as the two of you are getting ready to go out again, an idea pops into your head.

“You can go ahead of me to the disco. I’ll just go buy Jungkook a present first.”

Your best friend glances at you, confused. “I can accompany you, you know. It’s no big deal.”

But despite his kind offer, you shake your head adamantly. “I really want this to be kept between me and him, Ji. Is that alright?”

“Ugh. Fine, whatever.”

There’s some truth to what you’ve told Jihoon, but everyone knows that only relaying some of the truth is as good as lying.

You tug your jacket tighter around your shoulders as you stand in front of a familiar record store. You’ve been to and from this place so often in the past that you’ve practically memorized Jeonghan’s operating hours by heart.

You’re going to prove to yourself that you’re over that phase in your life. Once you buy a vinyl by this one bossa nova artist that Jungkook really likes, you’ll kiss your once-prominent obsession with Jeonghan goodbye.

Not like it’s difficult, right? Jungkook has always been sweet and reassuring where Jeonghan gave you nothing but uncertainty and countless instances asking yourself, what am I even doing? It’s practically a no brainer to choose the former over the latter.

You suck in a deep breath. The thundering of your heart is too loud to ignore, but before you’re overcome with nerves, you step straight inside.

It’s empty like it always is when closing time is just a few minutes away. Jeonghan’s already mopping up the floor of his shop—something that surprised you the first time because you didn’t think people who came from old money actually knew how to do chores.

You also notice that he’s already changed out of his denim overalls—already donned in an outfit that he would no doubt be wearing to the disco right after he closes up shop. A velvet maroon shirt with a few buttons undone that’s tucked inside a pair of black trousers. Before you can catch yourself salivating over how fucking good he looks in that outfit, his gaze flickers to you in an instant.

“Hm? Been a while since you’ve dropped by, sweetheart,” he comments before stuffing the mop back in a supply closet and sanitizing his hands. “You’ve been busy with that boyfriend of yours, haven’t you?”

So he has noticed. “You could say that.”

He nods before stepping over to you, that stupidly disarming grin ever-present on his pretty face. “Hm? Is that trouble in paradise I sense? Don’t tell me he hasn’t bothered to put a label on things. What a waste.”

You planned on making this gruesome exchange with Jeonghan swift, but you completely forgot that he has a knack for getting under people’s nerves when he feels like it. “Why would it be a waste when we’re just taking our time? Besides, I’m not here to talk to you about me and Jungkook. I’m here to buy something.”

“For your little badboy? Now what could he possibly know about the finer things in life? That man looks like he wouldn’t even be able to play a triangle.”

Just when you managed to spot a record that you’re certain Jungkook has mentioned to you in passing, Jeonghan’s uncalled for words have you scowling at him. “Really? I know your family’s loaded and all, but you never really struck me as the pretentious type, Jeonghan. Mind you, Jungkook is a music major, and that’s low, even for you.

He simpers with folded arms, one foot tapping impatiently on the linoleum. “Well, forgive me, sweetheart, I don’t think I can react with my usual finesse when someone else is encroaching on what belongs to me.”

You don’t even think it’s possible, but your scowl only deepens. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’ve always been mine, no?”

…How he has the guts to tell you that after every single instance he’s rejected you is unfathomable. You do not want to have this conversation right now, so you quickly pluck Jungkook’s present from the assortment of vinyls before storming off to the cashier—mentally cursing Jeonghan for being so self-sufficient that he doesn’t see the need to hire other people but himself. Now you’ll be forced to deal with him until you’re finished with your purchase.

“How can you stomach buying your little badboy a birthday gift when we both know your heart is still tethered to me, sweetheart?” Jeonghan taunts you from behind as he shuffles towards the counter. “I thought this was just some ploy to get me jealous, but you’re acting a bit too realistically for comfort. Have you forgotten who you were trying to get with for the past few years?

“Have you forgotten who you’ve rejected time and time again?” you deadpan with a glare. “You made it clear whenever I asked that you weren’t interested. You know, Jihoon and the others kept calling you a player, so I never really understood why you never tried to get with me—someone who’s literally throwing herself at your feet every summer.”

Jeonghan lets out an incredulous laugh. “Why do you think I turned you down each time? You’re always asking if I want to have sex with you, but have you ever considered that maybe I don’t just think of you as another notch on my belt? That I actually wanted to get to know you past the sexual pretense?”

His words are quick to turn your heart into stone. “Then why didn’t you say that to me back then? Why are you only coming clean about this when I’m finally ready to move on with someone else?”

“That’s because I like you, Y/N,” he sighs, jaw clenching as if he has the right to be more frustrated than you are. “I didn’t want to just sleep with you. I wanted us to be friends first before I pursued you, but then you went on about asking if I wanted to fuck each and every time you’re home. I was just being careful because I don’t want to give anyone the power to trample on my feelings.”

“So you thought it was okay to trample on mine?”

The exasperation on Jeonghan’s face seemingly melts away with that simple response. You’re still staring at him with fire in your eyes—the kind he’s used to admiring from afar whenever you’re feeling your emotions a little more intensely than usual. But for once in his life, Jeonghan is unable to formulate some clever retort.

“Just fucking scan my vinyl so I can leave,” you grumble before sliding the record across the counter. “If you don’t have anything worthwhile to say to me, just don’t say anything at all.”

“Do you really mean it?”

Your whole body freezes up when you feel Jeonghan standing directly behind you, caging you between his tall frame and the counter. Both of his lean arms are braced against the wooden surface and you make a mistake of whirling around to face him.

“M-Mean what?” you stammer, suddenly losing whatever conviction your voice once held because of his goddamn eyes. They look so pretty even if they’re pleading for something you can’t put your finger on.

“That you’ve already moved on with him?” he murmurs. “If it’s true then…you can forget that this conversation ever happened. Go celebrate his birthday and make him your boyfriend or whatever.”

When Jeonghan leans closer, his lips brush the shell of your ear—making you shiver with anticipation. “But if you think you’d still choose me after all, then I promise you that I won’t waste your time anymore. I’m ready to own up to what I feel about you even if I deserve none of your reciprocation at this point.”

He’s right. He doesn’t deserve even an ounce of what you would’ve been willing to give before you saw reason. Jihoon was smart to come to the conclusion that Jeonghan only kept you around to entertain himself, but once losing you became a possibility, he suddenly put on this show of buttering you up.

Admitting things he should’ve told you years ago. Telling you he likes you only when you’ve already got your eyes set on someone else.

The logical thing to do is turn him down and walk away from Yoon Jeonghan once and for all. You could do it—you could leave the convoluted history the two of you shared in the past. You’ve already been doing it with Jungkook for the past month. But no matter how much you convince yourself otherwise, there’s a singular truth that you won’t be able to escape:

You’ll always find your way back to Yoon Jeonghan.

The next few minutes are a blur of desperate touches and equally desperate kisses. You don’t remember when exactly you lunged in for the kill, but the next thing you know, Jeonghan has you propped up on the counter of his store as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders and hikes your skirt further up your thighs.

“Wanted you for so long,” Jeonghan sighs against your lips and you feel like he’s exercising active restraint so he wouldn’t rip the delicate fabric of your skirt. “But I needed you to take me seriously so you wouldn’t think you’re just another girl I slept with.”

You bark out a condescending laugh before reclaiming his lips, shoving your tongue down his throat until he’s groaning into you—fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs.

“You obviously didn’t take me seriously with how much you fucked with my head.”

“I wasn’t fucking with your head, sweetheart. I was just biding my time.”

“So the thing that finally got you to crack is seeing another guy get his hands on me,” you point out with a quiet chuckle, trying not to moan when his lips trace a scorching path down the skin of your neck. “I didn’t take you to be the jealous type. If I knew, I would’ve paraded Mingyu inside your shop ages ago.”

“Hm?” He hums—a noncommittal noise that has you shivering beneath his touch anyways. “Are you saying that you would fuck Mingyu too? When you’re already cozying up to his best friend? You’re quite greedy, huh?”

You let out a quiet whimper when you feel him press two fingers against your clothed core—wanting him, needing him. “J-Jeonghan, someone outside might see…”

“Then we better put on a show, right, sweetheart?”

The fact that Jeonghan calling you sweetheart incites a more visceral reaction out of you compared to Jungkook calling you baby makes a clump of guilt fester in your chest. The vinyl you’re supposed to get for him as a present sits idly a few inches away, but all of it is forgotten once Jeonghan reminds you of what you really want.

It’s fucking humiliating how your cunt gushes at his words. Jeonghan is clearly pleased with the mess he finds between your thighs after pushing your underwear to the side. You curl yourself into his chest, twitching every time his fingers graze your clit. He laughs, low and dangerous in your ear all while he lathers your slit in your own essence.

“I’d love to take my time and eat you out right here, but I don’t think I have the patience just yet,” he whispers before teasing your entrance with the occasional dip of his fingers. “I’ll make you come with my mouth some other time. For now, I think I just need to see you crying on my fingers and my cock.”

His crooked digits slide into you with perfect ease, stretching out your gummy walls so you’d be able to take something more. You cling onto Jeonghan like a lifeline as he murmurs a string of filthy musings into your ear.

“Has your little badboy finger-fucked you this good, sweet thing?” he rasps. “In fact, has he even kissed you?”

“H-He’s kissed me once,” you admit, the walls of your cunt clenching around his intrusive fingers as you try to recall how you and Jungkook shared your first real kiss in the parking lot of the movie theater. “But I wished it was you instead…”

“Really now?” Jeonghan chuckles, clearly emboldened by your honesty. “You still think of me even when you’re with someone else, hm? Well you’re in luck sweetheart.”

“I do the same thing, too.”

Your eyes flutter with pleasure when he curls his fingers inside your tight channel, his free hand toying with your clit with each pass he makes. Jeonghan praises you for spreading your legs so prettily for him, for being his good girl and no one else’s. Every word he breathes into your ears only makes you wetter by the second and you fear that each time he plunges his digits into your heat, someone outside would hear the squelching flesh.

“J-Jeonghan,” you whimper, thighs quivering with the need for release. “Let me come, please. I wanna come on your fingers. I need it.”

Of course, your newfound lover makes it a point to laugh at your desperate plea, licking his lips as he draws tight circles around your sensitive nub. “Just a few moments ago, you were afraid of being caught getting off like this. Now you want me to make you come?”

You nod vigorously—uncaring for how pathetic it would make you seem. “Yes, I want you so much… You’ll give it to me, won’t you?”

Ah, he’s always known you were a vixen. Those days when you’d purposely dress up wearing the skimpiest outfits just to get his attention were one of the hardest. In fact, the entire ordeal of keeping his hands off you when you were offering yourself up so willingly was one of the hardest things he’s done in his life.

But Jeonghan supposes that he can still reap the benefits of his patience—even if that patience was snapped in two when you dared to think another man deserved to have you.

“Of course I’ll give it to you, sweetheart,” he murmurs sweetly before planting the sloppiest kiss on your lips. “Come for me if you want my cock in you. You can do that, right?”

You screw your eyes shut at his affirmation to focus on getting yourself to the pinnacle of gratification. Jeonghan has slowed the pace of the fingers thrusting in and out of your messy cunt and decided to zero in on your clit. You’re twitching and thrashing in his grasp, moaning his name so prettily, he wishes he could snap a photo to preserve the memory for life.

You come undone on his fingers with a breathless sigh, nearly collapsing on top of the counter from how boneless you felt in the aftermath. But Jeonghan is quick to coil an arm around your waist, peppering your face with kisses as he keeps himself from grinning too wide.

“So good for me. So perfect—my perfect fucking girl.”

The lasciviousness dripping from his words urges you to spread your thighs for him—eyes glazed over with lust as he undoes the zipper of his trousers. You have to keep yourself from gasping once he takes out his impressive length—fully engorged with how much you’ve been teasing each other over the past half hour.

Jeonghan fists his cock before sliding the head across your oversensitive clit, but you don’t voice out any complaints—already desperate to have him again despite having just recovered from your last orgasm.

He doesn’t wait for a verbal confirmation, doesn’t waste his time on any more preamble. Jeonghan simply hooks your thighs around his elbows and sinks his cock into your tight channel with his bottom lip caged between his teeth. You’re a lot less reserved with the noises you make—openly crying out his name once he buries himself to the hilt.

You feel him everywhere—inside you, on your skin, on your face, in your heart. Jeonghan is heaving deeply as he lets you get used to him and when he flashes you that lazy smile that started everything, your chest seizes with something not shy of glee.

You have him. You finally have him.

And from the way that smile you’ve always loved morphs into a smirk, you have a feeling he’ll make sure you engrave this moment into your mind.

“We could’ve done this sooner,” Jeonghan sighs with the first drag of his hips, loving the way you writhe underneath him when he plunges his cock back into your slick heat. “If only we just got together like normal people, I could’ve fucked you on every surface of this store years ago.”

“If only you didn’t reject me every single time like some self-absorbed brat.”

“You sound pretty brave for someone who’s already in tears on my cock, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jeonghan murmurs something along the lines of cheeky little thing before surrendering his grip on one of your thighs in exchange for the space to reach for your face. There, he wipes the moisture collecting in the corner of your eye with his thumb, a self-satisfied look settling on his face.

“Maybe you do now.”

He doesn’t waste anymore time after that—fully aware that though he’s already drawn the shutters before you came, he hasn’t had the opportunity to lock the main entrance yet. The possibility of someone walking in on you getting fucked to an inch of your life on the countertop are all too real and Jeonghan has no plans on getting arrested for public indecency when he just grew the balls to tell you how he’s felt all this time.

“You’re fucking dripping for me,” your lover rasps into your neck, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake as your poor cunt takes a beating. “All dressed up for someone else but here you are stuffed full of my cock. Tell me, who is it that you really want?”

“You.” The mewl that follows your abrupt answer is music to his ears. “I’ve only ever wanted you, Hannie. F-Fuck! Right there, please.”

He drags your hips closer to the edge, resuming a secure grip on your thighs to keep you balanced as he rams his thick cock into you. You throw your head back in bliss, uncaring for how the bruises he’s kissed into your skin sting with pain. The pleasure he’s sowing between your legs eclipses any sort of ache that can deter you from losing yourself in the moment.

You hook your legs around Jeonghan’s waist to keep him close—arms slung around his neck as you pull him down for a kiss. Your lover responds in kind, moving his mouth in perfect sync with yours as if to make up for all the years you could’ve spent in each other’s arms.

“You’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs against your lips, eyes burning with pure, unadulterated desire. “So pretty and perfect for me.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re balls deep inside me,” you try to scoff but it melts into another breathless moan when Jeonghan angles his hips just a bit differently and has your eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“You talk big for someone who can’t handle being a little roughed up,” he teases. “Now hush and take my cock like the good girl you are.”

It doesn’t take long for you to feel that familiar pressure in the pit of your stomach—like a balloon expanding and expanding until you’re filled to the brim with the pleasure he’s giving you on a silver platter. You whimper beneath him, pressing your mouth against the cut of his jaw as you murmur about how close you are.

“Fuck, I need you to feel you come around me, sweetheart,” he moans. “Come on my cock—let me feel your cunt squeezing it out of me.”

You don’t know if you’re just that high strung, or if you’ve waited for this for so long, your body just responds to his whims. But whatever the reason, the most skin-tingling, toe-curling orgasm washes over you like a storm surge—pure lightning skidding up the length of your spine as you surrender yourself to the height of euphoria.

“That’s it,” Jeonghan goads, fucking you through your orgasm as he chases after his own. “You feel so good around me, my perfect Y/N.”

As you drift in and out of coherence, you vaguely pick up on the fact that Jeonghan isn’t wearing any protection—the two of you overcome by your need to have each other to think things through. But as his cock plunges over and over into your soiled cunt, you find yourself uncaring for the consequences of your recklessness.

But Jeonghan continues to surprise you by using all his strength to disentangle your legs around his waist—pulling out just in time for those spurts of cum to splatter all over your rumpled skirt. He hisses between his teeth as he pumps his cock into completion, his white hot release staining your clothes in a way that you’ll probably still forgive him for with how well he fucked you tonight.

"Can't get you pregnant when your career's ahead of you," he chuckles and you can only punch him in the chest in response.

The silence that settles moments after is more deafening than it should be, but you’re no means unsettled by it.

Not when Jeonghan still has that look in his eyes.

When he kisses you again, it feels like the stars and the planets have aligned for everything to fall into place. He smiles against your lips as if he’s just as relieved to have found you when you thought all hope was lost and it makes you recall any other time you’ve been more in love with someone else in your life.

In the end, you come up empty handed.

“I’ll clean you up and close up the store,” Jeonghan murmurs. “I need to take you home with me because I am nowhere near done with you.”

And who are you to say no to that?

“Paris, huh?”

Jeonghan muses right after he’s finished cleaning you up—diligently scrubbing at what three more rounds of sex at his apartment have done to your poor body. You answer him with a quiet hum, burrowing deeper into both the warmth of his blankets and the heat of his chest.

“Yeah, I think I’ll be stationed there for a better part of the year,” you tell him softly, tracing the small trail of freckles on his sternum. “It’s going to be way different than what I’m used to, but new experiences are always welcome.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, you don’t have any reason to be afraid of Paris to begin with. The only thing that might get in the way of you having a good time is the language barrier.”

“You talk like you’ve been there before.”

“Been there before? Sweetheart, I lived in Paris before I moved here… Why are you looking at me like that?”

You mutter a string of curses under your breath before pouting at him. “I keep forgetting that you and Joshua are a couple of trust fund babies. Of course I’d be surprised if you dropped a bomb like that.”

Jeonghan chuckles before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss—deepening it until you’re hooking your thigh across his hip and moaning into his mouth again. Your lover chuckles at your eagerness before he pulls away, a string of saliva obscenely connecting your lips.

“I do kind of miss it there,” he admits sincerely, but you can’t pay the admission much mind when his fingers are trailing the inside of your thighs again. “Maybe I should go on a quick getaway for a while.”

“What, so you can go fuck me in Paris, too?”

You do your best to bite down your whimpers when he lathers his fingers with the wetness between your thighs, making it a point to rub your still sensitive clit in slow, lazy circles. The vibrations of Jeonghan’s laughter travel across your skin and when he presses a kiss on the corner of your lips, you’re not sure how to feel—endeared by the sweet gesture or embarrassed by how quickly he’s winding you up.

It doesn’t take long for his cock to be in full hardness again and you don’t even resist him when Jeonghan eases his length back into your tight hole. He sighs against the crook of your neck, grazing your skin with his teeth as he slides inside you languidly. When your hips are flush together as he bottoms out, your chest swells with pride when you hear him breathe out a shuddering sigh.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Can’t believe I waited for so long to have you like this.”

“Now if only you said yes the first time I asked you to sleep with me,” you chuckle, trying not to moan at the feeling of his cock pulsating inside you. “You could’ve railed me in the bathroom of Cheol’s disco and he never would’ve known.”

“Oh, he’d definitely know,” Jeonghan chuckles dryly as he presses a kiss along your jaw. “But thanks for the visual, I think I just got even harder. We should do that when you get back.”

“Didn’t you say something about going on a quick getaway so you can fuck me in Paris, too?”

“You’re the one making plans here, sweetheart. Not me. But if you’re so hell-bent on taking my cock in the bathroom of some random Parisian disco instead, then I suppose I can make the proper arrangements,” your lover appeases you with a lazy smile. “Maybe I’ll have Jihoon and your friends watch after the store while I’m gone.”

“He might be your regular, but when he finds out that we’re screwing around, he’ll probably torch the entire building.”

Jeonghan pauses for a second. “That reminds me, won’t they be looking for you, sweetheart? From the way you were dressed earlier, it looked like you were headed somewhere else after buying that stupid badboy his birthday present. This is quite the detour, don’t you think?”

When Jeonghan brings it up, it takes you a few seconds to process that…fuck.

“Yeah…” you groan. “I was headed to the disco for Jungkook’s surprise party.”

He hums. “And here you are warming my cock. That boyfriend of yours is going to be heartbroken, you know?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you grumble, mewling when Jeonghan snaps his hips into yours to take you by surprise. “But…I guess it still sucks that I lead him on like that.”

“I suggest,” Jeonghan starts before pulling himself back again only to rut into you so hard, you’re surging forward on the bed. “That you give him a call in the morning—tell him that you’re fine and nothing’s happened to you. Oh, and tell him that you actually have a boyfriend now.”

Despite your senses being overloaded by how good his cock is stretching you mid-conversation, you still manage to look up at Jeonghan with withering surprise. “I do?”

“Sweet girl’s gone dumb on my cock, huh?” Jeonghan laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead that has you melting from the contact. “From here on out, I’m your boyfriend. Some fucker from another city has no business flirting with you when you’re with me.”

In a split second of clarity, you roll your eyes at him. “I still think it’s stupid that you only went after me after I found someone else. You’re a terrible person.”

“But you still love me anyway, hm?”

You do. You think you’ve loved Jeonghan even longer than you first realized it.

Loving him and losing him even if you had neither to love nor lose is a vicious pattern you’ve cycled through for the past four summers. You’re perfectly aware that actions have consequences and what you chose to do with Jeonghan now would definitely jeopardize everything you’ve built for yourself.

But you can think about what Jihoon and Jungkook and Seungkwan and everyone else has to say about this some other time.

For now, you’re just going to focus on how good your boyfriend splits you open on his cock.

“And how are you so sure about that?”

Jeonghan shrugs before crowding you against the bed, a no-good smirk plastered on his pretty face. It gives you hope that maybe—just maybe—the cycle has finally been broken.

“I dunno. Gut feeling.”

⟢ end notes: you're finally at the end of it! thank you so much for reading through this brain fart that has been decaying in my drive since july :') i'd also like to extend my thanks to jj, rj and zeta specifically because if it weren't for them i would've lost every and all direction for this fic altogether and i might've actually dropped out of the collab for real (i am literally 4 going 5 days late!!) leave a like, reblog with your thoughts, or yell at me in the replies -- idk !! it's just that this might be one of the last fics you'll read from me for a while, so i'd appreciate the feedback now more than ever T T that said, do check out everyone's works from the collab as well!! they've all created such wonderful stories with the given theme <3 you def won't regret it!

this is part of the svthub 70s;teen collab!

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan x reader #seventeen x reader #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

1K notes · View notes

onlymingyus · 2 months

Text

Love Scene (svthub's cupid for you collab)

pairing; choi seungcheol x f reader

genre; smut (minors dni)

warnings; alcohol, poor knowledge of wine (on my part), pet names, seungcheol is a simp, unprotected sex, manhandling/cheol lifts the reader, mentions of the readers lipstick color (could look different on all skin tones), begging, slight dom!seungcheol, big dick!seungcheol, lingerie kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating, breeding kink, aftercare

w/c; 5.3k

svthub cupid for you masterlist

a/n; this is part of the svthub cupid for you collab valentine's gift exchange event. my fic is for my valentine @multi-kpop-fanfics. i hope you enjoy this wifey. i had a lot of fun writing cheollie for you. happy valentines day. i love you. thank you to @wongyuseokie and @onlyhuis for proofreading for me!

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

Seungcheol smiles against the wine glass pursed on his lips. You looked beautiful as you listened to the woman drone on about the notes and undertones of the wine that she had been pouring for the two of you to try, but Seungcheol had stopped paying attention three bottles ago.

“This one is a Cabernet Sauvignon.”

You hum along with the woman’s words as you bring the glass to your lips, taking a sip of the dark red liquid and letting the dry wine rest on your tongue, trying to taste the notes she was explaining even as you feel Seungcheol’s eyes on your face.

“A personal favorite and one I know a lot of couples tend to want to take home, especially on evenings like this. Notes of cranberries and dark chocolate. What do you think, Seungcheol?”

Hearing his name from the host, your boyfriend smiles, looking away from you to pick up the glass, tipping it back quicker than you had. You watch as he swirls the liquid on his tongue, tilting his head only to purse his lips and look at yours as you let them part ever so slightly in amusement.

“Not my favorite, honestly. Especially if I’m buying a bottle for Valentine’s Day. I want something sweet. Something that will make me feel as good as I do when I look at her.”

He was being ridiculous, and you couldn’t help but look away, feeling your cheeks burning at his attempts to be sweet. The woman laughs, reaching for the glasses in front of you, and Seungcheol pulls them back towards her before she searches her inventory for the perfect choice as you shake your head.

“Seriously, Cheol?”

Smiling, Seungcheol leans to press his lips against your warm cheek, chuckling at the heat under his lips even as you try to pull away, feeling embarrassed by his public display of attention.

“Of course, I’m serious, Y/N. It’s Valentine’s Day. If there was any day for me to be as cheesy as possible, it’s today, and you look beautiful. I can’t help it… I think Cupid shot me in the ass because I’m head over heels for you, baby.”

Scoffing, you push Seungcheol away, listening to his laughter, even as you attempt to hide your laugh, muttering about how stupid he is.

“Stupidly in love with you.”

"Ya, could you shut up Choi Seungcheol?”

Turning back towards you and a now playfully pouty Seungcheol, the woman laughs under her breath as she shows you both a different bottle of wine.

“This is a Chateau Chantal Cherry Port. This is the sort of dessert wine I would recommend serving with chocolate. Perfect for a day like today.”

Seungcheol watches your lips pull up into a smile as the dark liquid is poured into two small port glasses and offered to you. He lets you taste it first, listening to the soft sound of appreciation that escapes your lips before he tilts his glass back and his eyes widen.

“Oh wow…”

You can only nod along as you watch your boyfriend this time. He had spent the day “stupidly in love” with you, but now you were almost drunk with how much you were clearly enamored with the man.

“Rich cherries with a bit of tobacco and wood smoke depth makes this port special."

Neither of you were paying attention to your host at this point, as Seungcheol notices you looking at him, the glass resting on his lips as he finishes what is left in his glass. He needed to get you out of here. What made this special was you, not any underlying notes or fruits or what barrel the wine had been aged in.

“We’ll take a bottle.”

You smile, leaning your head back against the wall next to your front door, as Seungcheol’s lips press against the column of your throat. He had barely kept his hands to himself the entire drive home, but you weren’t complaining. You were on fire for him, and it would seem the feeling was mutual.

Groaning against your skin, Seungcheol’s fingers slide along your arm to your wrist, where your fingers are wrapped around a blue jasmine bouquet he had stopped to pick up on the way home. He tried to be careful, dragging your arm up the wall, knowing you were holding the flowers, but he could feel petals hitting his shirt and hear the soft fluttering as they fell to the ground.

“Cheol…”

His brows furrowing at the level of need in your voice as you say his name, Seungcheol rakes his teeth against your throat before pulling back to look at your pretty face, leaning in to press his plush lips to yours. Your lips were almost the same color as the wine that he had bought for the two of you to share for the night, and it was driving him crazy.

You whimper against his lips, and Seungcheol feels his cock starting to stiffen in his pants, causing him to hiss and lean his forehead against yours in an effort to calm himself down. Your free hand was tugging at his dress shirt under his jacket, pulling it from his pants already, but he had two bags in his hand and a plan for the evening before he wanted to have you on his cock.

“You are so fucking perfect. I love you so much.”

Seungcheol feels your smile against his cheek as he leans to brush his lips against your ear to whisper in your ear. He could feel the chill bumps spreading along your skin. As hard as he was making this for himself, he knew it was just as difficult for you not to beg him to take you to bed.

“My forever valentine.”

Your fingernails almost rip at Seungcheol’s shirt as you feel his hot breath against the shell of your ear, but his words cause your heart to swell. He was cheesy, and you couldn’t help but smile, but he was making you fall in love with him all over again.

“I love you too, Cheol. I–can we just..."

He knew what you were going to ask. Smiling, Seungcheol shakes his head, making you whine as he pulls back from you, only stopping to kiss you gently before taking your free hand and guiding you towards the kitchen.

“Not yet. Patience, darling.”

You did want to have patience, but as you followed Seungcheol into the kitchen, his fingers falling from yours as he laid his bags on the island, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You knew how important today was to him. Every day with you was important to him, but holidays, no matter how commercial and silly they really were, were important if they could be spent with you and celebrating you.

“Here, sit down, baby. Let me grab a couple of things.”

Seungcheol watches you smile as he turns the swiveling high bar stool towards you. He loved your smile. He loved how easily he could make you happy on days like this. Just little actions would have you smiling and giggling for him, and that had Seuncheol’s chest feeling tight with love.

Turning you back towards the island, Seungcheol leans to kiss your cheek, listening to your soft laughter as he leaves you watching him. He could hear you shifting behind him, but he kept himself to his task: two wine glasses, a plate, and a fork. No matter how much he wanted to take you to bed right away, he needed to practice the patience he expected you to have.

Crossing your arms on the counter, you lay your chin on your hand, tilting your head slightly while watching your boyfriend complete his tasks. He was effortlessly handsome, and you could imagine every day of the rest of your life spent like this. He made it as easy as breathing.

He smiled as he looked at you fondly, seeing you with your head resting on the counter. Seungcheol reaches for the bags, taking out the bottle of wine from the vineyard along with a plain box that he had been insistent on stopping to get on the way home.

“You are so cute. I can’t stand when you look at me like that.” You smile once again, and Seungcheol’s heart beats quicker. “You make it hard for me to tell you no.”

“Then why would you ever tell me no, Cheol?”

Shaking his head, Seungcheol carefully opens the wine, letting out a sigh as he holds one of the delicate wine glasses in his left hand and pours some of the deep red liquid into it.

“I rarely do. I just ask for patience, like right now. I want to do this in the right order. I got you nice things; I want to enjoy them with you and then enjoy you. Is that so terrible?”

Biting at your lips, you feel your cheeks burning at Seungcheol’s words and his meaning. He was right. You knew he had spoiled you in so many ways, over and over again. Today was no different. You watched how he held the wine glass in his fingers, and it reminded you of how he held you on so many occasions, as if you’d break, like you were precious.

“It’s not… I just want you so much. I miss you already.”

Sliding the glass across the bar to you, Seungcheol grins, tilting his head at your wording. You missed him? He was right in front of you, albeit separated by some quartz and wood, but he knew what you meant; he would still make you say it.

“Is that so? Sweetheart, I’m right here. How could you possibly–”

"Cheol, you know what I mean.”

Cutting off his words, you whine out your own, causing Seungcheol to chuckle as he pours his own glass of the port before putting the bottle to the side, picking up his glass, and bringing it to his nose as he swirls the liquid gently in the glass.

“Why don’t you just tell me, Princess?"

It wasn’t a question; rather, it was a request, a command. Licking your lips, your eyes move to your wine glass, your fingers running over the stem as your lips pull up into a small smirk, knowing Seungcheol’s eyes are on you. You know he’s watching as you pout your lips slightly and bat your lashes in a way that drives him crazy.

“I miss your lips on mine; I miss them on my skin. I want you inside of me, baby.”

Tipping his glass back against his lips, Seungcheol takes a breath through his nose as the wine hits his tongue when you finally tell him what he wants to hear. He would give you what you wanted in due time. Shaking his head, Seungcheol smiles against the delicate glass, lowering his eyes to meet yours as you take your first sip of the wine, letting out a small happy sound to the taste.

“And I want to be inside of you, and I will be if you can be patient with me. I have a treat for you. It’s a special day, remember?”

You smile, lifting your shoulders as you nod in response, watching Seungcheol turn the plain white box towards you. You could smell the sweet dessert, but you weren’t entirely sure what it was. It wasn’t until he lifted the lid that your mouth started to water, and you kicked your feet out of happiness.

“My favorite…”

“Mm, only the best for you, darling. The last slice of red velvet cake from your favorite bakery. I called ahead to make sure she put it back for me. Are you happy?”

Lifting the fork, Seungcheol smiles, watching you nod as he cuts off the tip of the cake before turning the bite towards you and letting you lean in to take it from the fork. Watching your eyes close and listening to the sound of your pleasure from enjoying your favorite dessert causes his smile to widen, with his eyes closing very slightly. It was almost better than sharing it with you, just watching you enjoy it on your own.

“It’s perfect. You have to try some. It’s perfect with the port. Let me?”

With your fingers sliding over his, you take the fork from Seungcheol, cutting off the next bite of red velvet cake and offering it to him as he continues to smile at you. It’s only after urging him to take it, the crumb of the cake brushing against his lips, that your boyfriend takes the bite from the fork, his brows furrowing to the sweet taste, and he closes his eyes, savoring it.

Taking another bite, you hum happily as Seungcheol runs his thumb along his lips to push away any remaining crumbs. Watching you eat, Seungcheol brings his wine to his lips with a smile as he uses his free hand to scroll through his phone. The atmosphere was almost perfect. The two of you in the comfort of your house, your favorite cake in front of you, shared the perfect dessert wine, but the sound of music made you look surprised.

“Dance with me?”

Seungcheol’s fingers run along your hand as you drop the fork on the mostly empty plate as Florence & The Machine’s Stand by Me plays quietly from the phone resting on the kitchen counter. You can only nod, letting your boyfriend spin your chair away from the island as he grins at you and your serious expression. Helping you down from the stool, Seungcheol slides his fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as he takes the lead, swaying with you to the rhythm of the music.

“What is that look for? It’s your favorite…”

Of course, it was. Of course, he remembered. Leaning your cheek against his shoulder, you smile, closing your eyes as Seungcheol hums along with the words to the song until you finally speak.

“This is perfect, Cheol. You’ve done too much.”

Humming as he considers your words, Seungcheol leans his head back so he can look down at you, causing you to look up at him as he does. You watch as he shakes his head, finally disagreeing with you. Gentle fingers caress your cheek before Seungcheol allows his hand to rest against the side of your neck, keeping you grounded as if you might float away from him.

“Never enough. I love you, and it’s Valentine’s day… I’m just enjoying your company. I’m enjoying that pretty look on your face when you like something.”

Pouting slightly, you watch as Seungcheol smiles into a laugh, leaning to gently press his lips against your pout.

“No more pouting, sweetheart. Finish this dance with me….hm?”

Your lips pull up against Seungcheol’s lips as his fingers trail along your neck and up against the side of your hair. Your skin was starting to feel warm again at his attention. You were wanting him badly again, feeling his body so close to yours even as the sweet words of the song attempted to keep you in the moment.

Hearing your soft whimper when he pulls back from your lips, Seungcheol bites at his bottom lip as he lets you turn in front of him, his fingers loosely holding yours. With a gentle tug, he pulls you back into his arms as the song ends, and your eyes once again find his desire burning just under the surface.

Seungcheol smiles, his teeth slowly sliding from his bottom lip as he shakes his head, trying to keep himself in check as you look at him like that. You listen to his gentle sigh as you feel his fingers work the zipper of your dress down your back. The weight of the material causes your dress to slide forward on your shoulders when Seungcheol takes a step back from you to press his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up towards him.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are today? How much I love you in this dress?”

Watching you smile, your head tilting, Seungcheol trails his fingers back up your arms to where your dress was precariously resting on your shoulders. With a gentle brush of his fingers, your dress falls to the floor, a discarded pile at your feet as his eyes move over your body.

“But I love this even more. Shit, baby…”

Seungcheol groans, moving his hands to your waist before scratching his nails lightly down to your hips to rest his palms over the burgundy lace that covered your body. You were driving him crazy, his cock now throbbing hard in his pants as Seungcheol’s eyes dilated, looking at you in the bodysuit.

“Do you like it?”

Letting out a breath at your question, Seungcheol shakes his head, trying to come up with the right words, before just taking a step back and lifting his hand to rub his palm over his mouth in awe. Watching you turn in front of him, showing him every angle, your boyfriend can only scoff as you let out a playful laugh, lowering your lashes when you face him once again. That was the last straw.

“Don’t ask silly questions, sweetheart.”

You start to defend yourself when you find yourself lifted off your feet. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, you smile against Seungcheol’s lips as he groans to the feeling of your body flush with his as he starts the walk towards the bedroom.

“I remember how to walk, Cheol.”

“I don’t give a fuck." Your back hits the bed, and you feel the breath get knocked out of your lungs as Seungcheol looks down at you from the side of the bed like you were something to eat. “I wanted you here at my pace."

Seungcheol grins as your teeth catch your red lips, pulling at them as you try to hide how much you like his words. He knew how much you liked him manhandling you and how much you were going to like everything that was going to happen to you.

“Mm, I’m here. What are you going to do with me now, sir?"

Fuck, you were trying to kill him. Shaking his head, Seungcheol chuckles as you tease him with not only your words but also your toes running along the inseam of his dress pants. He groans as you bite your lips, working your foot all that much closer towards his leaking cock, still trapped behind layers of clothing.

“Exactly what you asked me for in the kitchen, darling.”

Watching Seungcheol’s hands move along his torso to undo his shirt, you laugh quietly at his words, knowing he would keep his promise. Your eyes follow his every move just as they do when your back arches and your legs cross, allowing you to press your thighs together, giving you some much needed relief from the arousal soaking into the lace barely covering your pussy.

Clothes hit the floor in different corners until Seungcheol finally lets out a breath of relief, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking himself slowly. With his free hand, he pries your legs open, only to then bring down his palm hard on your inner thigh, granting himself a half moan, half whine from your pretty lips to the pleasurable sting.

“Keep your legs open. With how you are acting, I might as well have let you grind on a pillow while I was getting undressed, princess. Are you that fucking needy?”

You can only furrow your brows and nod, your fingers running along the lace covering your breasts and stomach as Seungcheol’s hands press into your thighs and trace your curves along your hips to your ass and back to your thighs once again.

“Dying to be touched that badly? Are you ruining your present for me? I liked this piece of lingerie, but I’m more than willing," You whined, hearing and feeling the sound of lace ripping at your hips as Seungcheol’s fingers dug into the delicate material. “To replace it. I’m not, however, patient enough to fucking figure out how to get you out of it. I’d rather fuck you while you are in it.”

Lifting your hips, your eyes move down to where Seungcheol’s fingers slide under the torn lace. You watch as he smirks, digging his fingers into the burgundy material, watching how easily it gives way to his strength before he moves his fingers to the center of your legs, running two fingers over the wet patch that had grown exponentially with his actions.

“You like that idea, don’t you, my pretty little slut?”

Seungcheol watches you lick your lips before you nod and rock your hips against his fingers. He knew you like the back of his hand.

“Yes…fuck. Please, Cheol? I don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve wanted you all day long.”

You were so greedy, and he loved that about you. He was just as greedy, if not more. Grinning, Seungcheol leans down to run his tongue along the lace as he hooks a finger under it. Soon, your whines turn into full blown moans as Seungcheol runs his knuckle along your folds before circling your leaking entrance slowly with his index finger.

Pushing into your soft, tight walls, Seungcheol groans against the wet lace, furrowing his brows. You were addictive, from your sounds to your taste. He knew you didn’t want to wait, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He could feel you squeezing around his finger like a vice, and that already had his cock twitching against your thigh at the thought of being inside of you.

“Please….just —”

You let out a soft, breathy whine as Seungcheol kisses your thigh, sliding a second finger into you beside his first. You wanted to complain that it wasn’t his cock, but when he rolls his fingers back towards the top of your pussy with perfect precision, the words leave your mind as quickly as they had entered them.

Seungcheol grunts, running his lips against your soft skin, feeling your slick arousal coating his fingers. He wanted to get his tongue on you. He wanted this lace out of his way, but at the same time, he didn’t want it off of you. Seungcheol hadn’t been lying about wanting to fuck you in it, so there was only one thing to be done.

“Cheol!”

A smirk causes Seungcheol’s lips to pull up to one side when you yell his name, feeling your lingerie give way between your legs as he uses his fingers to rip the lace apart. With nothing in his way, Seungcheol slides his fingers back into your warm pussy and runs his tongue between your folds, groaning as he circles the tip around your clit, feeling you buck your hips up against his mouth.

You feel your stomach tightening as your orgasm starts to take over quickly with Seungcheol’s relentless actions, but it isn’t until a third finger is carefully worked in with the others that you fall over the edge. Your head thrown back against the bedding, you lace your fingers into Seungcheol’s hair, moaning his name as you cum around his fingers, feeling him smile against your folds.

“Mm…fuck.”

His words are muffled against your pussy as Seungcheol lets his fingers carefully slip from you, and his tongue replaces them in order to collect as much of your cum as possible. Only when your thighs shake around his head and you whimper his name, begging for him to give you a break, does Seungcheol move his mouth from between your legs, opting to press soft, wet kisses to your thighs.

“You are trying to kill me.”

Lips once again, pulling up at your words, Seungcheol shakes his head, nipping at your thigh, causing you to whine at feeling overstimulated once again, tugging at his hair to make him stop.

“I’m not. I just like watching you tremble like that. You are so fucking pretty. You taste so good. I could eat you out all day long.”

You wanted to reiterate your words after hearing his. It felt like he was trying to kill you as you felt Seungcheol’s hands sliding along your legs and up your sides as he moved between your legs to lay over you. You found yourself pouting only to hear him chuckle and to feel Seungcheol’s lips press against yours to soften the pout before the kiss turned into something much deeper and filled with longing.

Seungcheol’s fingers press into your side next to your breast before he groans against your lips, rolling his hips to meet yours and feeling your wet folds against his aching cock. You were warm and wet, and if anyone felt like they were dying right now, it was him. He wanted to give you time to calm down after your first orgasm, but he was also aching to be inside of you after prepping you.

“Mm, baby, you feel so good. I just…fuck.”

You could hear the strain in his voice as you felt him rutting between your legs. Your thighs were still trembling; all you could manage were soft moans and begs against Seungcheol’s lips for him to get inside of you. At first, you aren’t sure he understands you until you feel the head of his cock press into you, and his hips slowly move to meet yours.

The stretch, even after all of his prep, is intense. Seungcheol is a large man, from his arms to his chest and all the way to his cock, now buried inside of you as he stays still for a moment, waiting for you to adjust. Eyes locked on your face, Seungcheol takes a deep breath, feeling your walls tighten around him, causing his head to spin before you take a breath of your own and whisper his name.

“Pl—please…need it. I want you to. You feel so good, baby. You are so big, Cheol.”

Everything you said was bad for Seungcheol’s ego. You were always making him feel like he was the most important thing in the world and in the bedroom like he was the only man you would ever need again in your life. That was all he needed and wanted. He wanted you ruined for anyone else. He wanted to leave an imprint of himself inside of you so that you would never forget that you were his, and if you needed a reminder, he would be there every single day of your life to give it to you.

Lips brushing against your ear, Seungcheol groans your name like a prayer. His pace quickens as he buries his cock deep inside of you. Pulling your leg up to his hip, he hisses at the feeling of your nails scratching at his biceps before thrusting hard, making you cry out in pleasure.

“Put your leg around me, baby. I want you to cum on my cock.” You nod, letting him help you wrap your leg around his hip so that your foot rests on the top of his ass, the new angle causing you to see stars along with his words. “I fucking love the feeling of your cum on my dick, baby. Give it to me."

Between Seungcheol’s words and the way his cock was dragging along your walls, you didn’t stand a chance of lasting much longer. The coil winding tighter and tighter snaps as Seungcheol’s teeth rake along the side of your neck, and you see white.

With your walls gripping his cock like a vice, Seungcheol groans against your neck, his breath caught in his throat as he feels your cum coat his length with every deep thrust into your heavenly pussy. Holding your thigh tightly, Seungcheol leans back to look down at you as he starts to chase his own high.

"God, I’m so close. Wanna leave you full of me...dripping, so I can fuck it back into you.”

Your cheeks burn at Seungcheol’s dirty mouth, and your eyes close, causing him to chuckle before you hear his pleasured groan, knowing he truly is getting close. You could feel him getting closer. All the signs that you had grown to know over your time with him were the same. The way he would pull you closer, his hand almost bruising your skin, his hot breath on your jaw, and the way he would bury himself as deep as possible inside of you, intent on filling you fully.

Seungcheol’s choked groans fill your ears as he falls over the edge. His warm cum spilled into you, only to be fucked back into you with deep, smooth thrusts. Catching his breath, Seungcheol smiles as he feels cum begin to seep from you and between your thighs, knowing he had done exactly what he had promised.

Leaning back on his hand, Seungcheol groans. He helps you rest your leg back on the bed and off to the side as he continues to slowly push the mixture of his cum and yours back into your tender pussy. He could feel himself softening and how he was overstimulating himself, but it was worth it to hear your soft whimpers and to watch the cum drip from you and around his cock as you ran your fingers between your folds and through the sticky mess, much to his delight.

“Shit…yes. Does that feel good, baby? You gonna give me one more? Use that cum to get off around me one more time tonight."

Meeting your eyes, Seungcheol nods along with you as you roll your hips over his cock and your fingers, letting yourself cum one last time. Your eyes closing, and you let out a soft breath and whispered his name as your boyfriend slipped from you with a soft groan. You feel his plush, perfect lips work from your jaw to your lips before the bed feels suddenly empty for a few moments.

Exhaustion keeps you from searching for Seungcheol as he sits on the edge of the tub, running his fingers under the taps, letting the water come to the perfect temperature. Leaning towards the door every few seconds, he checks to make sure you haven’t moved, only to smile at seeing you breathing softly, your eyes still closed as you rest, waiting for him.

After a few minutes, you feel your lips once again press against yours, bringing you back to reality as Seungcheol’s arm moves under your back and the other under your legs. He simply grins against your cheek, hearing your soft mutters of how you could walk before he sits you on the toilet and runs his fingers over your hair, watching you finally open your eyes to look up at him.

“Hi…”

“Hi yourself. I ran a bath and brought the rest of our wine in here. Does that sound good?”

Nodding, you smile, causing him to do the same. You let him help you back to your feet once you were ready. Holding on to your arms, Seungcheol helps you into the bath before sliding in behind you and letting you rest your back on his chest, his fingers running along the stem of a wine glass, the other hand resting on your stomach.

You can’t help but smile as you bring your wine to your lips, taking a sip of the sweet wine before leaning your head back against his shoulder and feeling his lips press to the side of your head. You were exhausted, but this had been the perfect Valentine’s day. Seungcheol was the perfect Valentine, and he was your forever Valentine.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Seungcheol’s lips against your ear; his words cause your skin to erupt with chill bumps and for you to laugh into your words as you turn to meet his lips speaking against his.

“I love you too, Cheol. Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

#seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svthub #svthub.collab #scoups smut #svt smut #seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader #scoups x reader #svt x reader

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highvern · 3 months

Text

Burnt Coffee

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x gn! Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Running a cafe hadn’t been as glamorous as you initially believed. You loved your job; the cozy aroma of the different roasts, the hum of the espresso machine, the foam art you tediously practiced until a cute bear face stared back from the surface of a cappuccino. But any new shop comes with quirks, like the fire alarm that goes off almost every morning. Luckily, the fire station is just across the street and you unknowingly have one of the fireman wrapped around your finger.

Warnings: coffee shop owner reader, firefighter Hoshi, pockets of angst, crying, lots of mentions of food and coffee, firefighter jihoon and his baker gf, crying, kissing

Length: ~4.6k

Note: second valentine's fic! surprise! written for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub. Happy Valentine's @idyllic-ghost / @bee-buzzez !!! i hope its the cafe au of your dreams

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“I’ve got an iced dirty chai with oat milk at the end of the bar!”

A sour-faced woman scoffs, “That isn’t what I ordered.”

“Well, is your name Samantha?”

“No.”

“Then it isn’t your order.”

The exchange between Seungkwan and the woman rings familiar. Sundays bring out the best in everyone it seems. But you're too busy handling the never ending line of drink tickets to scold him for poor customer service. Focusing on the machine, you pull shot after shot; inadvertently covering yourself in errant splashes of milk and coffee. The rush of the morning is still going strong but you hone into the rhythm and let your mind fall away from anything beyond the cups resting atop the counter next to you.

But as always, the steam from the milk frother continues to heat the space above; right where the over sensitive fire alarm was installed.

The shrill blaring freezes everyone in place. A few children scream in shock, making the vein on your temple throb. Your ears ring with each pulse as your head falls into your hands.

Every single morning since you opened Fika two months ago the alarm went off without fail.

And then he would show up like clockwork.

The bell attached to the wooden door chimes as Soonyoung breaks through the threshold of the cafe. Grimaced faces greet him. The shrill fire alarm with flash lights blares into the industrial space, bouncing off the walls to echo inanely.

“Earlier than usual.” Soonyoung chirps as he saunters past the line, easily rounding the bar to access the screeching piece of junk inconveniently placed above the espresso machine.

You step out of the way, face flat and mouth tense. “Busy day.” You explain.

The alarm cuts off as swift as it started, Soonyoung stepping back to smile down at you.

“I can hang around in case. Seems like that line isn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you want something to drink?” You offer stepping back to the line of cups littering the metal counter.

“Ooo, buying me drinks already? Aren’t you presumptuous?”

The wiggle of his eyebrows is meant to be suggestive but they only make him look like he ate a mouthful of sour candy.

“Nevermind.” You huff, stepping around the man as you grab the next cup in line and start working. “Go save a cat in a tree or something.”

Sensing your waning mood, Soonyoung cuts the act. “I’ll just have my regular.”

“You know where the cups are.”

A full cup of brewed coffee joins him on the opposite side of the counter. Soonyoung plants himself in his usual chair, chin resting on his curled fist as he watches you work your magic.

On slow days he’ll chat your ear off until the fire station calls him back. But on days like today, he’s content to in silence; obsessed with the sureness of your hands, the strong pout of your lips, and the way everything seems pulled into your gravity.

Maybe he has a crush on you.

Scratch that; Soonyoung definitely has a crush on you.

And everyone knows. His supervisor, Jihoon, knows. It’s why Soonyoung is always the one to come and fix the faulty alarm in the shop. His best friend, Seokmin, knows. It’s why Seokmin and his fiancee constantly batter him with texts about when he’ll ask you on a date. If someone went to space and looked down they could see how much he likes you without even trying.

You hit a lull and Soonyoung takes his chance. “Got any special plans this week?”

“We’re doing themed baked goods on Wednesday.” You call over your shoulder.

It’s not what Soonyoung was asking about but he takes it in stride.

Your employees also know about the fireman’s feelings. It’s why Seungkwan throws a pitying look his way along with a deformed muffin. Subtle rejection tastes like blueberries and brown sugar.

“Will you save me one?” Soonyoung asks.

“Is free coffee not enough?”

“Who said I wouldn’t pay for it?”

You never let Soonyoung pay for anything at the cafe. Despite how much he enjoys free food, it always makes him feel a bit guilty. It’s why you think he only drinks black coffee with a lethal amount of sugar when in reality he’d take some fancy espresso drink any day.

You laugh as you continue to work through the next batch of orders. “We’ll see if there are any left.”

“I’m a civil servant!”

“Serve in silence please!” Seungkwan barks, earning a few chuckles from the other customers sitting at the bar.

The back and forth continues and eventually the line dwindles to nothing as the morning lulls on. Soonyoung downs two more cups and manages to haggle Seungkwan for an overly toasted slice of banana bread with a singed corner he planned to throw out anyway.

The entire time Soonyoung watches you. Even covered in splashes of milk and coffee stains, he’s still enamored with you as you lean over the bar and jot notes in the ever expanding list of repairs and updates the shop needs.

And just when Soonyoung opens his mouth to say something, anything, the shrill beep of his phone cuts him off.

“Damn, I gotta head back.” He curses. “Just call if you need me again, okay?”

“Will do.”

You don’t even look up as he walks towards the door.

“Satan is one the phone for you.”

“Please be less specific.” You beg Seungkwan, grabbing the receiver still on hold.

“Bakery lady.”

Steeling yourself, you unmute the phone and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“I was reviewing orders for Valentine’s. You're only doing the usual? I thought we talked about special items. I already bought the ingredients so if you changed your mind it’s putting me out of money.”

“No, we need at least two dozen of the cupcakes and two dozen of the cookies on top of our usual order.”

“That’s not what the order form says!” The old crone hawks through the line.

You ask her for a moment while pulling out your laptop and settling into a seat far away from the clusters of customers still strung throughout the cafe.

Wiping your face, you stare at the illuminated screen of your computer with the order form pulled up. “I have the form on my screen right now and it clearly says—”

“I don’t care what you’re looking at, it’s not what I have on my end!”

“Are you sure you’re looking at the form for Fika on Second street?”

“I’m telling you I’m—oh.”

The deflation in her tone pulls a smirk across your lips. “Hm?”

“Alright so two dozen red velvet cupcakes and two dozen heart sugar cookies?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, I’ll have it on Wednesday.”

“Thanks.”

Click.

The table shakes with the impact of your forehead. The clatter of your mug draws attention from the few customers around but none pay much attention.

“Everything okay?” A voice asks from above.

“Great. Wonderful.” You say into the wood.

“Good. Because the espresso machine is broken…again.”

You rise from your seat, face indecipherable as you walk past the counter, through the back storage area and into the alley behind the building.

Several seconds pass before you release a guttural scream. It's gritty, ripping apart your throat as all bubbling exhaustion breaches your lips. The noise echos between the brick walls before escaping to the sky above. Several pigeons flee to the rooftops for safety while mice and other vermin scuffle along the walls in terror.

Seungkwan watches from the door, eyes wide as you continue to belt for the trash bags and city rats witnessing your meltdown.

Your voice fizzles as you run out of air. Closing your eyes, you take two deep breaths. Inhaling the scent of stale storm water and whatever else perfumes the back alley until the stretch of your lungs burns from the inside out.

And then you turn and walk back inside as if the entire thing never happened.

The block is only illuminated by streetlights at this hour. Not even the earliest of early birds litter the narrow sidewalk as you push into the empty cafe and begin prepping for the Monday morning rush. The smell of fresh coffee fills the air, the whir of the grinder harmonizing with the jazz playlist curling down from the speakers.

The calm before the storm.

Slowly the first shift employees trickle in just before opening; relieving you to commandeer the office slash storage room in the back, intent on knocking out the mountain of paperwork and following up with the repair man about the alarm he said he would be back to fix last week. But first, the phone blinking with unread messages.

“This is Megan. We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warr—”

Message deleted.

The next message is a young man reporting his credit card missing and visiting your shop. You call and let his voicemail know no one has seen anything but you hope he figures it out.

“Hi Y/N. This is Cheryl with Harmony Bakers. Just wanted to let you know I won’t be able to get that special order for Valentine’s Day. Or your regular order for tomorrow. We’ve decided to close up shop. Sorry about the inconvenience.”

The words don’t hit at first. But your brain slowly catches up to what Cheryl is saying. Canceling. She’s canceling two days before Valentine’s.

Your attempts to return her call fall flat. Six tries and all ring once before dropping into an automated message reporting her voicemail is full, no doubt from the other shops she’s also shafted with the impulsive decision.

No holiday treats. No regular food items. No back up. No plan B.

Failure, failure, failu—

The pad of paper littered with notes sails into the not so far wall only to slap against the plaster and slip to the ground.

You can only focus on one problem at a time. Or at least the problem whose solution won’t send you to jail. And that means heading to the front where the day is starting to pick up.

The boys have things under control but the line is lengthening and you’re a great way to relieve the pressure. Immediately an invisible song pulls you into the rhythm of their work; drinks and food hit the end of the bar almost as fast as the orders came in.

Soonyoung comes in and waits at the counter as usual. The alarm seems to be granting mercy given the horrible state of affairs from this morning.

The customers not so much.

“God, how stupid are you that you messed up a simple order? It’s a fucking americano and you made it taste like ass.”

The man standing at the end of the bar, hands flat on the counter in an attempt to physically dominate the space, always complains. His iced drinks are too cold, his hot drinks are too hot, the weather is bad, taxes are too high, the list continues on and on. And somehow it's always your fault.

Usually its little barbs under his breath but today he’s out for blood and you’ve already had enough.

Your teeth grit together so hard it feels like the forced smile plastered on your face might crack them into dusk. “Like I said, I can remake it for you if you’d lik—”

“Why would I want you to remake it? You clearly have no idea what you’re doing. Get someone else.”

“I got it.” Seungcheol steps forward.

The older man gives him an apprehensive look. Seungcheol is harmless but he knows how to be scary when he wants to be.

“I’m gonna go…restock something…” you warble, all but sprinting to the back.

Plastic sleeves of cups and boxes of straws bear witness to your breakdown. The six am tantrum clouds in and your carefully built dam of control explodes. Hot tears streak your cheeks, dripping off the jut of your chin with every gasping breath from the knot in your throat tangling tighter and tighter. All you can hear are ugly gasping breaths as you rock back and forth in the dark.

The sliver of light spilling in from the cracked door doesn’t register given the way your face is buried in your hands. Soonyoung has half a mind to pretend he never entered the cramped space. He’s never seen you so… small.

A shrill squeak of the hinge alert you to the new presence. Bloodshot eyes find his wide ones and you swipe at your face to hide the evidence of your distress. You go to speak but barely manage a croak before the tears come again.

“Shit,” Soonyoung whispers. “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

The warmth of his chest makes you cry harder, tears spilling onto his neck as you hide from the world. He smooths the flat of his palm across your back.

It's anyone’s guess how long you stay there. Soonyoung’s cheek rests on the top of your head, arms firm around your shoulders. The faint smell of smoke tickles your nose. Smoke and pine from his cologne. It tethers your mind, lulling the frantic breakdown and giving you something to focus on other than how horrible the day has become in the span of a few hours.

No baked goods. Horrible customers. And now you’re being held by the handsome fighter from next door with snot dripping from your nose.

Soonyoung hesitates when you shift in his hold, arms tightening for a second in case another bout of tears crops up. But you pull far enough away to send an embarrassed grimace his way before looking anywhere else.

“Sorry.” You say, turning to snatch napkins from the shelf next to you.

His hand continues to rub your shoulders as you dab your eyes and blow your nose.

“It’s okay. That guy was a jerk.”

“I don’t care what he said.”

Soonyoung stares in disbelief, waiting for you to continue.

“My baker canceled on me, and the espresso machine is held together with duct tape, and there's a million other things going wrong, not to mention the fire alarm. And I just…”

Squeezing your eyes tight to prevent the moisture swelling in the corners proves unhelpful. To Soonyoung’s credit he stays silent, allowing you all the time you need to get your thoughts in order. But the hand on your back continuing to trace abstract shapes between your shoulder blades lets you know he’s there when you’re ready.

“It’s just been a rough week.” You say to the floor.

The admission lifts the ten pound weight off your chest. Soonyoung isn’t an employee you need to guarantee everything is okay to or a customer requiring a mask. He’s a…friend? It feels generous but if he was anything less you doubt he’d be where he is now.

“Is there any way I can help?”

You blow your nose into the tissue before laughing wetly. “I don’t suppose you have a magic wand, do you?”

“Just broke mine actually.” He winces sarcastically.

What’s another thing on your never ending to-do list? Along with the desperate need to buy more supplies for tomorrow, how difficult can it be to conjure artisan baked goods out of thin air?

“Actually,” Soonyoung perks. “Jihoon’s girlfriend works at a bakery. Pete’s? No, wait. Penny’s?”

“Petunia’s?”

“That’s the one! Maybe I can ask her if she can help?”

“Good luck.” You snort. “They couldn’t even fit me into their normal rotation.”

“We won’t know until we ask!” He chips, thrilled he can help.

Soonyoung jumps up, a cruel chill invading the space he once occupied. Like the sun moving behind a cloud and leaving you at the mercy of a cool breeze; there and gone before you can delve into what it means.

You hand him the order form you usually give your baker to relay to Jihoon’s girlfriend. While he steps out to ask for a miracle you focus on tallying how many cups, napkins, lids, and other miscellaneous items you need from the supply store across town. A few lone tears appear, falling without much preamble but the worst is out and stained on Soonyoung’s shoulder. You’ll get through it. With Soonyoung’s help you’ll get past everything, even if his efforts fall flat.

Seungcheol and Seungkwan confirm they’ve got things under control as you take your leave. Soonyoung is just visible in the dissipating morning fog hanging in the street. He paces the sidewalk, speaking into his phone animatedly before spotting you trying to sneak past him to your car.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” He cheers before hanging up and pocketing his phone.

“So?”

“They’ll do it! One of the other shops dropped out last minute and they have a lot of extras. Maybe not all the usual stuff but Rita said she can pull together most of the stuff on the form.”

Body frozen, you stare at Soonyoung with an open mouth and eyes wide. There’s no way he solved half your workload with one phone call.

“She also said they can try and work you into their usual orders. If that’s something you’re interested in…” Soonyoung trails off, glancing at you nervously.

In a blink your back in his arms, squeezing him so hard your arms hurt.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” You chant into his chest.

“Of course.”

Stepping back, you blush at your own impulsiveness.

“Um, well…” you fumble, clearing your throat you get back to the task at hand. “I need to run to the store so I’ll see you later.”

“I can come!”

“No! I mean, you’ve already helped so much. I’d feel bad dragging you along.”

“Don’t worry about me, I'm just trying to make sure you don’t start crying again and cause an accident.”

“Okay, rude.”

Soonyoung ignores you, already strutting down the street.

“Your cars this way, right?”

“No.”

“Listen, I wanna come with you. I have nothing else to do today.”

“Cool,” You laugh, continuing the opposite direction Soonyoung headed. “but my car is still this way.”

The drive is pleasant. You learn more about Soonyoung in the thirty minutes it takes to get across town than you’ve learned in the weeks he’s been coming to the cafe. He has an older sister, he likes to volunteer at the youth center down the street in his time off, and he cannot work a computer if his life depends on it. You also learn more about his coworker turned best friend who also happens to be the boyfriend of your new god.

“Yeah Jihoon and I started the same day. He comes off kinda cold but it's all an act.”

“Oh, really?” You laugh, pulling into a cramped parking spot.

“One hundred percent. You should see him with Rita. I never saw him blush that much until they started dating.”

“How’d they meet?”

“Funny story.” Soonyoung shares, climbing out of the passenger seat. “So the bakery she worked at before had a fire. No one was hurt and they put it out before we even got there! But we went to make sure everything was clear. Well, Rita was there and I swear it was love at first sight for him.”

“That’s sweet.”

You both make your way inside the sliding doors; Soonyoung pushing a flat cart behind you through the aisles.

“He’s definitely mellowed out since he met her. Doesn’t work as much, thank god.”

“What about your girlfriend? Do you guys have the same Hallmark meet cute?”

“Oh! I don’t have a girlfriend.” Soonyoung mumbles, ears turning scarlett.

Your face heats as well. Whatever force compelled you to ask such a prying question revels in satisfaction to hear Soonyoung is in fact single. A tidbit of information you’ve never wondered about before.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you anything for today.” Rita says as she helps unpack everything onto the counter.

The cafe is scarce of customers, far past closing time but Rita said they’d be too busy delivering to their other customers in the morning to spare a trip to you. What's another Tuesday at the shop? It isn't like you have time for much of a social life given the million things you need to do.

“Really don’t worry about it. You're saving my life by getting me this stuff for tomorrow.”

“Well Soonyoung made a bargain I couldn’t refuse.”

You pause for a moment. Soonyoung didn't mention anything beyond the payment Rita quoted and later sent via email. Did he promise something from the shop on your behalf?

Swallowing the budding annoyance, you continue to work like nothing is wrong. “Oh?”

“I mean an entire month of covering Jihoon’s shifts? What kind of person passes that up?”

What?

Soonyoung offered to sacrifice all his free time to help you. Soonyoung who you barely know beyond the fact that he pretends to like black coffee. The man chews with his mouth open. Soonyoung who let you ruin his sweater with tears and snot from a horrible day.

“You didn’t know?” Rita asks, face full of mirth.

“Ugh, no,” you cough. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“I was shocked when he offered. He wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”

But he did it for you.

“Yeah.”

“Y/N?”

You find Rita smiling like she knows some big secret. If you had to guess, it's probably the same thing you're realizing now.

“Soonyoung’s a great guy.”

Words fail you because you know Soonyoung is a great guy. He held you when you cried, he comes in everyday without fail to turn off the alarm, and he just sacrificed a month of his life because it would help you.

Once you and Rita unpack the remaining cookies and cakes, she takes her leave but not before dropping another wink when she spots Soonyoung approaching from the direction of the fire house.

“Rita.” he greets at the door, holding it open for her exit.

“Hosh.”

And she’s gone without another word.

“How’s it going?” Soonyoung asks, rounding the counter to join you.

“Great!” You blurt with too much enthusiasm. “Rita ended up making everything we needed.”

A second set of hands assists in packing the glass display case in preparation for tomorrow's chaos. Soonyoung listens well. Patient to a T as you direct him to tweak things just so from the opposite side of the bar.

“Thank you for all your help this week. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here to help.”

He continues to unpack the few remaining goods beneath the counter as he responds. “It’s not a big deal. What are friends for?”

“Hmm and you agree to cover all of Jihoon’s shifts for your friends?”

Leaning back against the opposite counter, you watch Soonyoung’s shoulder tense and his ears erupt into bright red. He’s so still he doesn’t even seem to be breathing at the shock of being caught. Each passing second heightens the smirk curling your lips.

“Oh, you heard about that?” He asks into the counter.

You saddle up beside him, dropping your head until his eyes meet your own. Each inch of space you claim next to him sends him away like an opposing magnet; until your sandwich between him and the hardwood.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Soonyoung backs away nervously but not before you catch the way his eyes cut to your mouth. Who knew all it took is a smile and batting your eyelashes to make chatty Soonyoung clam up? The shyness bubbling on the edge of your conscious fizzles with the new knowledge; instead, curiosity takes its place. How much more can you make him blush? What would he do if you grabbed his hand? Or if you took a chance and kissed him?

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a crush on me?” You smile around each word.

He opens his mouth to argue but it's moot with the way you gaze at him, eyes shining with mirth. Like you're laughing at some shared joke. Soonyoung will tell you whatever truths you want to hear if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.

“Yeah.” Soonyoung whispers so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

“Good.”

You step into his space with finality, chests brushing with each breath.

“Good?”

The edge of your teeth pinning your lip down is the only thing preventing a smile from ripping across your face as you answer. “Because I have a crush on you too.”

“Oh…” He nods, head dropping dejectedly and then it hits him and whips back up so fast his eyeballs rattle. “OH. You do?”

He watches you nod, slowly angling himself to connect your lips. When Soonyoung realizes you aren’t going to push him away, evident by the hand fisted in his sweater, he goes for it.

The curve of your lip, the breathy sigh you release into his mouth, the way you seem to go boneless with each pass are all committed to his memory. Soonyoung reminds himself to be good. That this is the first time he’s kissing you and he should be a gentleman; gentle, chaste, respectful.

And he would succeed but you’re acting like you have no interest in any of those things. You whisper another heavenly sigh into his mouth, trailing a hand in the short strands of hair at the base of his skull forcing Soonyoung to focus on batting away the demons at the edge of his mind rather than giving into temptation.

But when you tug to angle his head better the delicious sting drowns Soonyoung so quickly he has you pinned to the counter before he realizes what's happening.

Sometime later, when your lips are swollen and the floor sways beneath you from the flood of giddiness coursing through your veins, you and Soonyoung part. The crisp air of the late night tries in vain to nip at your face but you’re too distracted by the calluses on the side of Soonyoung’s thumb and the way they rasp against your knuckles as he walks you to your car.

The cafe is in full swing by the time Soonyoung comes in Wednesday morning.

All morning he paced across the cramped common room of the fire station. Sure you let him kiss you but what did it all mean? He knows you like him but did you like like him or just like him? Should he have asked you on a date? Would that be too forward? Did he mess things up by not immediately asking you out despite the fact he was so love drunk he ran into a pole after watching you drive off?

He fights the idea of running across the street and demanding answers. You’re definitely too busy to spare a second and tame the butterflies in his stomach. And how pathetic would he look if he asked you to explicitly dictate how you feel so no wires end up cross? And on Valentine’s day no less?

Luckily, he’s saved by the bell. Or rather the fire alarm.

He watches you work like a tornado, pausing only to smile at him the same way you did last night when he did not so safe for work things against the very counter lined with coffee cups and steaming mugs. Flashes of memory heat across his face.

You thank him with his usual coffee and one of the cupcakes you set aside just for him. Except this time his paper cup is scribbled with a heart and something else.

Be my Valentine? _Yes _ Also Yes _ YES BUT LOUD

At some point he should tell you about the sensitivity setting on the alarm and how all you need to do is nudge the tiny lever to the right if you don't want it going off every time the steam builds up. But the way you beam at him when he steals the sharpie from behind your ear and checks all three boxes on the cup makes Soonyoung decide it’s a secret he’ll keep for now.

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe

#svthub #svthub.collab #kvanity #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #kwon soonyoung fluff #hoshi fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #svt #svt fluff #seventeen #🫡 highvern

716 notes · View notes

shuadotcom · 2 months

Text

143 Miles (M)

💞Pairing: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

💞Summary: You and your boyfriend decide to change up your Valentine’s Day plans this year, so you plan a two-week getaway - or a “love vacation” as Seungcheol calls it. With each destination, you fall more and more in love with each other and it may just be your best Valentine’s Day yet.

💞Genres & AUs: Fluff, smut, established relationship au, road trip au

💞Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

💞Warnings: Profanity, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, pet names (baby, sweetheart, baby girl), big dick!Cheol

💞Words: 5k

💞Note: Here’s my fic for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub! Happy Valentine’s Day to my lovely valentine @gyuwoncheol !! 💘 I hope you enjoy my beloved Paula!!!!! 😘 ❤️

Thank you to my girlies @horanghater and @onlymingyus - Bambi for always coming in clutch as my beta and Mars for the beautiful banner!! 💕

“Okay, on the count of three,” Seungcheol declares once you’re both back in the car. “One…two…three!”

You reach into the bag in your lap and dramatically present the trinket to your boyfriend. He bursts into a fit of laughter upon seeing the small smiling frog donned in a cowboy hat resting in the palm of your hand. You quickly notice that he’s holding the same figurine. You join in with him, the two of you cackling in the front seat of the car together. You’re sure anyone walking would think the two of you look deranged, but neither pays that any mind.

“Well, guess this means we’re tied this round,” you manage when you finally collect yourselves.

“Yeah, but I’m still winning,” Seungcheol boasts, taking the frog from you and putting both away in the backseat.

“By one point!”

“A win is a win,” your boyfriend shrugs, grinning widely at you. You concede and start the car, somehow forgetting how competitive your boyfriend can be, even over something as silly as a game of who can buy the other the most ridiculous gas station souvenir. You’re on day three of your cross-country road trip and Seungcheol’s souvenir picks have been just a little sillier than yours. He’s simply lucky is all.

It was his idea to do something different this Valentine’s Day. You and Seungcheol have been together for almost five years and every year in February you’ve done the same thing when it comes to Valentine’s Day. You usually go out on a date somewhere, always a fancy romantic lunch or dinner, and then an activity such as a movie or a trip to the amusement park. Neither of you are ungrateful about the time you spend together, of course. You love one another and anything you do will be enjoyable if you’re together. Your dates are always full of nothing but shared love and admiration for each other. You love Valentine’s Day and celebrate it by spreading more love than usual to your boyfriend and he loves doing the same, but you both wanted to change it up this year, so when Seungcheol brought up going on a road trip, you wasted no time in agreeing.

Initially, you thought about driving from Seoul down to Mokpo, but that is only a 4-hour drive at most and didn’t feel like enough of a trip. That’s why Seungcheol brought up something that was once on his bucket list: fly to the US and then drive to the other side of it and back. He mentioned that it was something he’d always seen in American teen movies growing up and he always thought it looked fun and like a way to get even closer to the people you care about. And since you’re the person he’s closest to and cares about the most, he wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.

It didn’t take you much convincing either. You can never say no to a good road trip, so you both took time off work at the beginning of February, packed your suitcases, and booked a flight to New York. From there, you rented a car - a BMW to be exact, at your boyfriend’s insistence. (“It’s our love vacation! We have to drive in luxury!”) Then start your journey to Washington, planning to stop at as many states in between as you can.

You’ve finally made it into New Mexico with the end goal of getting to Las Vegas to stay for a night. Neither of you had many goals for where you would stay or what you’d do when you got to every state and are just winging it. It’s more fun that way.

Well, except when it comes to your souvenirs. You decide to stop at a gas station in each state for the wildest souvenir you can find after you unearth an Empire State Building-shaped mood ring right before you leave New York. It’s an extremely impractical shape and you demand that he put it on as soon as you leave.

Once you get back onto the highway Seungcheol fiddles with his phone, making sure his Bluetooth is connected.

The familiar first notes of “Sugar We’re Going Down” by Fall Out Boy start and your mouth quirks up into a smile. Every time it’s your turn to drive on the trip, Seungcheol insists on playing the playlist of your favorite songs that he made for you. The gesture still makes you feel warm at how thoughtful he always is, even when it comes to the little things.

Drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel, you relax in your seat. Seungcheol turns the volume up and rolls down his window just a bit. The February air is a little crisp, but not too cold. As soon as Patrick starts belting over the speakers, you join in, singing the song word-for-word as you go. Other than talking and playing silly road games, a favorite of both of yours has been using the car as your karaoke room.

Both of you have more than enough playlists to never run out of a soundtrack to your drive and you’re not shy about singing around one another. For the first few hours at the start of the drive, you had nearly gotten a sore throat from how serious you were at road trip karaoke. You were only missing a tambourine and the typical multi-colored karaoke laser lights.

The drive to Nevada will take nine hours, so you do half of that drive, and that whole time you and your boyfriend sing your hearts out on the way. Every once in a while, he reaches over to feed you a chocolate at your request for a snack. He makes sure that his finger grazes your lip or your teeth each time, chuckling when you nip at his digits or place tiny kisses on them. Little moments like this with Seungcheol make your heart even more full, which you didn’t think was possible, yet here you are - falling more and more in love with him each simple moment like this.

When Paramore comes on shuffle, Seungcheol goes all out during “Ain’t It Fun,” doing all of the ad-libs and being the guitar and the drums. At this point, you’ve made it more into town and hit a stoplight after passing nothing but dirt and rocks.

It gives you a chance to look at him, admiring the way his dark hair falls in his eyes - the eyes that turn into half moons when he smiles wide and laughs loudly. You can’t help but swoon over the giggle he lets out when he notices you watching him put on a solo concert, his dimple making its appearance and you want nothing more than to lean over and kiss it. And then kiss him on his lips that you know are so soft and warm and made perfectly to fit against yours like a puzzle piece.

So you do. You lean over the console quickly when he turns to you again and gives you a closed-mouth smile. Seungcheol lets out a noise of surprise, but gladly accepts the kiss, his hand reaching to cup your chin as your lips move slowly against his.

A honk from the car behind you makes you spring apart and then you remember where you are and see the green of the stoplight in front of you, indicating that you’ve got to focus on the road again. Seungcheol reaches over to take your hand as you start driving again, placing a kiss on the top of it, keeping it in his hold as you continue, both of you getting back to your playlist and the road ahead. You can’t help the way your heart swells and you almost don’t want this moment to end. You would travel around the world and back if it meant you could do it with Seungcheol.

When the sun sets on your journey, Seungcheol has always insisted that even if it’s not his turn, he’ll do the driving. He’s halfway through the state of Arizona when it gets darker and he’s behind the wheel. You didn’t stay in New Mexico long, only stopping to refuel and make sure to see what that gas station has to offer in the form of trinkets. Not much, as it turns out, but you manage to win this round of your game when you snag a keychain with an alien riding a donkey while all Seungcheol finds is a pen in the shape of a chili pepper with a mustache. He couldn’t not give you that point even if he tried to argue with you just a little about it.

Seungcheol hums along to his music, keeping it low enough not to disturb you while you try to sleep. He passes a mountain range, briefly admiring how the moonlight shines on the red rocks surrounding you. His attention quickly gets diverted to you when you turn in your seat to face him. You have the smallest pout on your lips and your eyebrows are scrunched up the tiniest bit. Cheol knows how hard it is for you to fall asleep in the car, but he still makes you try so you can get rest.

His eyes focus on the road, but he can’t help but steal glances at you and your cute expression. Not only does the moonlight bounce off of the nature around, but it also does the same to your face. It highlights your cheeks that he loves to pinch, your nose that he loves to boop, and your perfect lips that he loves to kiss. Your facial muscles relax when you seem to slip into a state of rest finally and the sight of your expression that he can only describe as angelic has his stomach doing flips.

It’s been almost five years and every single day that he gets to look at you, he counts just how lucky he is to call you his. From the moment he met you, you occupied space in Seungcheol’s mind, and to this day, over everything else in his life that swirls around in his brain, he always comes back to you. Your face, your voice, your body, your everything. You are everything to him and he’ll tell you every single day for the rest of your lives.

“I love you, so much,” He whispers as one of your favorite songs plays through the car and you stir, just a little.

Look at the stars, look how they shine for you. And everything you do.

A smile tugs at the corner of his as he glances your way again. The stars, the moon, the sun, all of it truly does shine for you and only you - his whole world.

When your phone’s calendar reads February 14th, you and Seungcheol finally make it to Las Vegas and you decide to treat yourselves to a fancier hotel. Instead of the usual 3-star hotels (and a few seedy motels) you stayed at along the trip, Seungcheol finds the nicest hotel that the two of you can afford. You even get so lucky as to somehow snag the honeymoon suite. “It is our love vacation after all,” being his reason yet again.

You definitely don’t complain when you walk into the room and kick your shoes off, immediately taken aback at just how fancy and spotless everything in the room looks. The bed is the biggest you think you’ve ever seen and is covered in rose petals. The large window across the room overlooks the city of Las Vegas, the neon lights brightening up the room before you even turn the lights on. The furniture looks modern and clean and the room even smells fresh yet sweet. You can’t place the scent of the air freshener, but you love it nonetheless.

“Holy shit, this is the nicest hotel room I’ve ever been in!” You marvel, running and plopping onto the large bed. The bed is big enough for you to starfish comfortably on and you start making comforter angels, Seungcheol laughing as he flops next to you.

“Only the best for my girl,” he hums, squeezing your socked feet, forcing a sigh out of you.

“Damn, I’m so sore.”

“Well if you’re interested, there’s a more comfortable place for your sore spots.”

You lift your head to look at Cheol and follow where his finger is pointing. There’s a half wall across the room made of decorative swirls of metal that you can see straight through. On the other side sits a large jacuzzi bathtub.

“Is that our tub?!” You spring up from the bed and rush over, eyes widening at the size.

Seungcheol comes up behind you while you’re admiring, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “That definitely looks like our very own giant, two-people-sized tub.”

“Looks like it has jets too.” Your hands rest atop his, fingers threading together.

“I think I even see some bubble bath on the counter over there.” Lips meet the back of your neck, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

“Hmm, how about I get the bath going and you grab the bottle of champagne chilling in that bucket by the bed? Then we can order room service. I’d love some good sushi.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Seungcheol punctuates his sentence with a final light kiss on your neck. You have to quite literally peel yourself from him, but you manage it as the two of you split up.

It only takes a few minutes for him to grab the bottle along with the two glasses and for you to get the bath running. As soon as the water is warm and bubbly, you and Seungcheol shed your clothes on the floor as you each slip into the tub with you sitting between his legs. He manages to find the button that powers the tub, the jets hitting you at all sides, including your outstretched feet.

You relax into the water, tilting your head back, and resting on Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“I have some bad news for you, Cheol.”

“What is it?”

“I think I must pass away here, just like this.”

Your boyfriend breathes out a laugh behind you, wrapping you in his arms again.

“You’re telling me you’d just up and leave me like that? And to stay with a bathtub no less!” You can hear the pout in Cheol’s voice and it makes you giggle.

“It’s nothing personal, baby, but I mean you can’t produce jet streams of soothing water.”

“Hmmm. That may be true, but I can do this.”

Seungcheol’s fingers dance up the front of your body, gently cupping your breasts and squeezing. His fingers tweak your nipples in between gropes, making you let out a surprised moan.

You practically melt into Seungcheol’s chest as he plays with your sensitive buds and your eyes flutter closed.

Soft moans fall from your lips as your head lolls to the side, Seungcheol using the opportunity to latch his lips to the side of your neck. His teeth scrape over your skin, nipping and biting along the way.

Seungcheol has always loved to mark you. He loves leaving not only signs to others that you’re his, but every hickey and every bruise is a little reminder that he’s the one who makes you feel good and he’s the one that you always come home to at the end of the day. Not that you need a reminder because you’ll always come back to Seungcheol no matter what.

You count at least two reminders now, one on the side of your neck and another at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His fingers never leave your nipples, the stimulation already making you nothing but putty in his hands. If you weren’t in the tub you’re sure you’d be making a mess of whatever panties you would be wearing.

Your boyfriend trails kisses from your shoulder, up your neck, to your ear, and lands on your cheek, peppering your face with a few more kisses. His plush, slightly chapped lips kiss any spot he can reach as his hands trail down from your waist to your thighs. Seungcheol opens your legs wide and shifts you both around in the tub. The moment the jet across from your body hits your clit, you let out a shriek and Seungcheol knows he’s positioned you the way he wants to.

The tub jet feels like heaven coupled with Seungcheol’s relentless hands that are back on your tits, cupping and squeezing in the perfect way you need it.

“Ngh, Cheol!”

“Hmm? What is it, baby?”

“F-fuck. I need you.”

“You need me? But didn’t you say a little while ago that you wanted to stay with the tub since it has jets? Aren’t you enjoying the jets right now?” His tone is smug yet teasing, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Cheol, please!” you pout at him, doing your best to beg in between whines.

“Oh, so you do need me, huh?”

“Yes!”

“And what is it that you need, sweetheart?”

Seungcheol tugs at one of your nipples harshly, making you jolt. You feel so close to cumming already, but you do your best to hold off. You want to cum around Seungcheol’s cock or even his fingers - something, anything of his.

You voice this to your boyfriend, choking and stumbling over your words along the way. Seungcheol’s gaze is heavy as he peers down at you, enjoying how you squirm and wiggle in his hold. Your head is resting on his shoulder as you look up at him, batting your eyelashes and pouting extra hard. He loves it when he can see how needy you are for him and how much you want him. He especially loves all of the noises you make for him - the pants and the moans and the whispers of his name.

He needs to hear more from your pretty lips, and he knows exactly how to do that.

With a smirk, one of Seungcheol’s hands releases your tit and trails between your legs. The tip of a finger taps against your clit, an embarrassing moan tumbling out of you in response.

The thick digit slides into your eager pussy and it takes everything in you not to sob at the feeling. Seungcheol crooks his finger as he pistons his hand and the heel of his palm knocks against your clit each time. You practically dissolve into his hold while his other hand plays with your nipple, your brain already turning to mush at all of these sensations combined.

“Fuck, sweetheart, listen to you. You sound so fucking pretty.”

“C-Cheol…”

“God I love it when you say my name. I wanna hear it again,” Seungcheol slips another finger into you, and you yelp out his name again without even thinking about it. His pace quickens, fucking you with his fingers as quickly as the bubbly water around you will allow.

“Yes! Please don’t stop, Cheol, please!”

“Mm, I won’t, baby. Want you to cum for me. Come on, pretty girl, let go for me.” Seungcheol’s voice is so deep that you practically feel it in the pit of your stomach. The pads of his fingers digging into your sweet spot, the jet from the tub still pelting your clit each time his hand moves, and his hard cock digging into your lower back are enough to have your world tilting and your orgasm knocking into you as soon as he tells you to let go.

Your body stiffens as you cum, the shrill sound of his name that you let out sounds too loud in your ears, but Seungcheol eats it up. He curses under his breath, telling you another handful of times how pretty you sound and how beautiful you look falling apart for him.

Seungcheol caresses your cheek and chin as you come down and when your breathing seems to steady, he tilts your face back and kisses you. His lips meld with yours, kissing you as if he’ll never get the chance again, making you even dizzier.

His tongue prods at the seam of your lips and when you let him in, he swallows up all of the desperate little sounds you puff out. He pulls back from your lips suddenly so he can help you turn around in his lap. The water in the tub sloshes as you get comfortable facing him and straddling his waist.

Neither of you wants to waste any more time, the carnal desire to have Seungcheol inside of you is a mutual feeling.

The head of Seungcheol’s swollen cock prods at your sensitive folds, whimpers falling from your lips as you start to sink onto his length. His hands hold your hips as you lower until he’s completely sheathed between your wet walls. You and Seungcheol have had sex more times throughout your relationship than you think you can feasibly count, and each and every time the stretch is familiar but always succeeds in taking your breath away.

“Shit, Cheol…”

“Feel good, baby? My fat cock stretching you out?” Seungcheol grunts between clenched teeth.

“Yes, s-so good, Cheollie.”

“You’re still so fucking tight, baby.” He winces when he feels your walls twitch, squeezing his dick and momentarily making him speechless. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

With Seungcheol’s grip tight on your hips, he helps you lift a little, letting his cock slip nearly all the way out before you slam back down and he’s shoved inside of you to the hilt. You share a groan as he helps you ride him, finding a steady rhythm. The water around you continues to splash, but he only moves you in his lap faster.

Your head falls back as you alternate between bouncing on his cock and swiveling your hips, letting out curses and calls of his name. Seungcheol bucks his hips up to meet your movements, fucking up into you as much as he can in the slippery tub.

“Shit, you look so beautiful like this. You were made to take my cock, you know that, baby? This pussy was made for me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” His compliments only spur you on, your fingernails digging into the thick skin of his shoulders as you grind on him. Your thighs are starting to burn, but you ignore it. The feeling of your boyfriend’s girth driving up into you over and over makes you feel floaty, everything around you fading away. The only thing you feel and the only thing you know is Seungcheol and his hands on your moist skin, his lips sucking bruises onto your tits, and his dick kissing your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

Seungcheol knows your body better than anyone, so he knows when you’re going to cum. He notices the frantic cries, the way your body shakes, and that far-away look in your eyes.

“Gonna cum for me, beautiful?”

“Y-yes, fuck yes.”

“That’s right, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Can you do that?”

“Mmhmm! I’m so close, Cheollie!”

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Seungcheol moans against your chest, burying his head in between your tits as he drives his hips up so hard, you almost lose your balance. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I’m close too, fuck - gonna fill you up. Can you handle that, baby girl?”

“A-always! I can a-always handle y-you, baby,” you gasp out, your stomach tightening and your body buzzing the closer you get.

Seungcheol keeps one arm around you while the other snakes in between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit without even having to try. The stimulation shocks you and has you mumbling gibberish, a mix of your boyfriend’s name and pleading words. Your fingers slide up and into his dark locks, threading your fingers through the brunette strands and tugging, making him growl into your skin.

“Please, fuck, Cheol I’m gonna cum!”

“I love you so much baby,” Seungcheol nearly explodes right on the spot with how your gummy walls clench around him again, but he manages to hold off. “Cum for me, sweetheart…” He nips at the side of your breast and applies more dizzying pressure to your clit.

“I l-love you too! I’m cum - fuck!” Your words are cut off with a scream as you tumble right over the edge, cumming harder than you did the first time, tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

Seungcheol lets go right after you, his face still in your chest as he holds you close, moaning out words of pleasure, love, and admiration about you and how you feel like “literal fucking heaven” and how you’re his and his only. Seungcheol pumps you full of him, his warm seed dripping from your throbbing pussy and mixing with the remaining bubbles around you. Somewhere in between his pussy-drunk babbles your ears pick up something about making you his wife.

You both stay where you are for a few minutes, your fingers lazily raking through his hair as he keeps you close to him, placing small, closed-mouth kisses on your hot skin.

“I love you so much,” he mumbles, letting out a sigh as his hand, still between your bodies, moves to rest on your thigh.

“I love you too, Cheol,” you sigh back, a drunken-post orgasm smile on your lips. Even through your haze, you didn’t forget what he said. “Did you…did you mean what you said?” you whisper out, hoping he knows what you’re referring to.

“Which part?” His question sounds calm, but you notice the way his fingers on your thigh press into your skin a little harder.

“The part about making me your wife?” A fraction of a second of silence hangs between you both and part of you starts to panic. What if he only meant it at the moment? You’ve had fleeting conversations about one day being married, but it was always lighthearted and more in a “one day we will” way.

When Seungcheol finally answers you, it’s in the form of a sigh. Wordlessly, he lifts you from his softening cock and untangles your limbs, sitting you down in the tub.

“I didn’t want to do this now or like this, but I can’t hold it anymore. Especially not when you ask me and look at me like that.” He steps out of the tub, giving you another look before sticking his feet in his complimentary hotel slippers and shuffling into the main part of the room.

You watch him rummage around in his suitcase before he comes back to the tub and kneels on the bath mat, facing you. You immediately spot the red velvet box in his hands and you gasp, tears immediately gathering in your eyes.

“I wanted to do this when we got to Washington and say some cheesy words about seeing the world with you and traveling everywhere with you for the rest of our lives, but I can’t wait any longer. Y/n Y/l/n, will you do me the honor of being my forever Valentine and be my wife?” The emerald stone of the ring shines back at you, surrounded by small diamonds on a gold band.

“Yes! Of course I will, Cheol!” you sob, tears blurring your vision as he plucks the ring from the box and slips it onto your finger, placing a kiss on your knuckle after it’s securely on.

Seungcheol cups your face with both hands as he leans forward and kisses you. The kiss is soft and warm and you can just feel the love that Choi Seungcheol holds for you in his heart seep out. His love overtakes you, your heart feeling more full than you think it’s ever been.

“I love you so much, Y/n.” he sighs when he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours.

“I love you too, Seungcheol. So fucking much.”

Your boyfriend fiance smiles widely at you, his own eyes red-rimmed with potential tears as he scans your face. “I can’t wait to officially make you my wife. And you know, if you want, we are in Vegas so we could technically make it official tonight.”

With a sniffle, you shake your head. “Patience, my love. We can worry about all that wedding stuff when we get home. Let’s just focus on us and this, and right now.”

He pouts dramatically before kissing your forehead. “Fine, I’ll wait.”

“Good boy,” you giggle, watching the way his eyes darken at your playful praise. “Now, how about we actually open that champagne and order room service? I’m still craving sushi badly.”

With a chuckle Seungcheol nods, standing as goes back into the room to look for the room service menu.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. We have all night to eat anything you want to order.”

“Good, because if they have good pizza I want that later too. Oh! Or maybe kimchi jeon if they happen to have that!” Seungcheol chuckles at your enthusiasm as he comes back with the menu.

Before you order, he helps you out of the tub when you complain about the water going cold. Dinner is put on hold again when you decide that a warm shower in the luxurious shower stall in the bathroom should come first before you get comfortable for the evening.

In between the warm water cascading over you and Seungcheol helping wash your back, you end up bent over the bench in the shower, Seungcheol slipping into your still-aching cunt again.

As your fiance makes you cry out around him yet again, somewhere between the moans and grunts, you’re both able to whisper “I love you” and “Happy Valentine's Day” when you share another blissful orgasm.

Tomorrow you’ll be back on the road and back to making the rounds for silly souvenirs, but tonight it’s all about you and Seungcheol and this moment right here. You can’t wait to have many, many more Valentine’s Days with the love of your life.

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idyllic-ghost · 2 months

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title: Forever Yours, Faithfully pairing: lee jihoon x fem!reader genre: romance, fluff, slight angst, smut warnings: mentions of food (sushi) and alcohol, mentions of clothes not fitting (jihoon buys reader something new, but one of the items are uncomfy bc women's sizes are weird), nsfw content (make-out in hot tub, fluffy smut, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it up pls), oral (f receiving), slight overstimulation) synopsis: Ever since you had Valentine's day ruined for you by an ex, you decided to never pay the holiday any attention ever again. However, when your new boyfriend finds out about this, he just has to do something for you and change the connotation you have with the fourteenth. wordcount: 9.7k taglist: @enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01, @loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag

a/n: breaking my hiatus for a moment to post this valentine's fic! this is a @svthub fic swap for @wooahaeproductions! happy valentine's day, i hope you enjoy!🩷 and a special thank you to @wongyuseokie and @strawberryya for proofing this!

see the rest of the posts for the collab here

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“... I hate it. I hate the way you're always right. I hate it when you lie. I hate it when you make me laugh. Even worse when you make me cry…”

A knock at your door interrupted Kat Stratford’s monologue on your TV screen, forcing you to look away from the movie and put down your bowl of ice cream. Pausing the romantic comedy, you listened to see if you were just hearing things - secretly hoping that was the case. However, there was another knock. It sounded cautious rather than angry, so you had no real reason to worry about who was on the other side of your door. You reached for the tissue box to dry your tear-stained cheeks and adjusted your clothes to make you look at least halfway decent. Before you had even stood up from the couch, there was yet another knock at the door.

“I’m coming!” you shouted and stood up.

You weren’t expecting anyone and silently hoped it was just your neighbor needing something and not one of your friends trying to take you out for drinks. Valentine’s Day was tough for you, it had been for a couple of years now, and you knew that your friends were only trying to cheer you up. However, when you opened the door, you were met with someone that you hadn’t anticipated.

“Hi.” Jihoon stood in front of you, fidgeting with the strap of a bag.

“Hi,” you said, trying to hide your disheveled self behind the door.

“Have you been crying?” He asked with furrowed brows.

“Oh, uh… I was just watching a movie.” You wiped your face with your sleeve. “10 Things I Hate About You… the ending always gets me.”

“Right, I’m sorry I interrupted… I know you said that you didn’t want anything for Valentine’s Day, but…” He sighed and looked down at his feet. “I talked to Soonyoung, and he…”

At the mention of your mutual friend’s name, everything fell into place. He wasn’t a bad friend, not at all, but sometimes he found the most particular ways to get in your business. You knew it came from a good place. However, a warning would be nice.

“He blabbed, didn’t he?”

“Yeah…” He looked back at you. “I know it’s only been a couple of months or so, but I don’t want our first Valentine’s to be… well, this…”

“You’ve got something planned?” You couldn’t hide that you were pleasantly surprised, your joyful tone giving you away.

“It’s a bit last minute, but yes.”

You look into your messy apartment, internally fighting with yourself over whether or not letting him in was worth the embarrassment. When you look back at him, he seems patient - Jihoon always had a way of communicating without having to say a single word, his feelings coming through his expressive eyes or his gentle smile. You didn’t need to worry about making him agitated. He was always patient with you. Moving to the side and opening the door ever so slightly more, you silently invite him in.

You met Jihoon a few years ago, when you were still with your ex. The two of you never talked much, as a result of Jihoon being so introverted and your ex being a possessive jerk. The time spent with your ex wasn’t all bad, but the good times were drowned out by the bad times - such as your last Valentine’s together. Neither of you planned anything for the day, but you decided to do something last minute: dinner and a movie. When you told him of your plan, he exploded at you.

“I hate Valentine’s, okay!? It’s not my fault you think one day of pampering will fix our problems! Just go out with one of the other guys you’ve been texting- I’ve seen your messages!”

The words rang in your ears every time the holiday came, creeping back each year. Throughout the relationship with your ex, your needs were never met when you were with him. Things were different with Jihoon. Once you had broken up with your ex and a few months had passed for you to heal, Soonyoung introduced you to Jihoon again. It started slow, the two of you stayed friends for a little over a year before even considering dating. Mostly because you were still hurt but also because neither of you seemed to figure out what you both felt for each other. You remember your mutual friends’ reaction when you told them you had started dating; “Finally… we can stop pretending that you don’t make googly eyes at each other whenever you’re in the same room”, or something along those lines.

Now that you had been together for a couple of months, you didn’t understand what took you so long. Even though he was busy most of the time, he always put all of his attention on you whenever the two of you were together. However, when Valentine’s Day rolled around yet again, you didn’t plan anything. You didn’t ask or hint at anything that you wanted to do. You just let it be. That way, your heart stayed safe. Valentine’s wasn’t meant for you, or so you thought. Soonyoung had been with you through it and had been a shoulder for you to cry on from time to time. You swearing him to secrecy about the meaning of the day didn’t work when it came to Jihoon.

“What’s in the bag?” You asked and tried to take a peek.

“You’ll see.” Jihoon smiled proudly and pulled the bag behind his back, away from you. “Go get some things packed - just enough for one night. I’ll wait here for you.”

“Do I need to get dressed?”

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

You looked at Jihoon in his usual attire - an oversized t-shirt, big pants, and slippers - and decided you could leave as you were. While throwing a few necessities in a bag, Jihoon stayed in the hallway and watched you. His proud smile never left him, and it made you all the more excited. Just the fact that he wanted to do something with you at all, and pulled himself out of work on his own accord, made you happier than you had ever been on any other Valentine’s.

Your happy jitters turned into nerves when you saw where Jihoon was driving you. A five-star hotel. Suddenly, the idea of staying comfortable over being dressed up didn’t feel very smart. It was an expensive part of town; people dressed to the nines walked up and down the streets, and you slowly sank further into your seat. As if he could sense your anxiety, Jihoon put a comforting hand on your thigh.

“We’re going in through a back door. Is that okay with you?” It was his way of reassuring you without pointing out your insecurities. “I want it to stay private. Going in through the main entrance could cause a scene.”

You nodded, although you were mostly happy to hear that you didn’t have to walk around in your sweats amongst people with thousand-dollar suits. Usually, you would’ve considered this a negative side effect of dating someone famous - but this time, it was welcomed.

“... why don’t you take a look in the bag now?” he suggested.

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to.”

“Just take a look,” he said, “I think it’ll calm your nerves.”

The bag sat between your legs, so you pulled it up to sit in your lap. Inside the bag was a beautiful green fabric. It felt expensive to the touch. When you pulled it up, you saw that it was a dress - a gorgeous, designer dress. Looking at the bag again, you finally recognize the high fashion brand.

“Jihoon…” You were at a loss for words.

“You’ll have time to freshen up inside, then you can put it on for me.” His eyes stayed on the road, but his ears turned red. “And there’s something else in there too… but you probably don’t want to pull it up in front of the window.”

You rummaged through the bag, seeing something lacy at the bottom of it. Turning to Jihoon with wide eyes, he still didn’t meet your gaze but was smiling. The two of you weren’t necessarily an innocent couple, you were not abstinent, but this was something that he hadn’t done for you before. Any nerves that you had felt before were now replaced with pure excitement. If this was just the beginning, then what else did he have planned?

The two of you made your way up to your suite rather easily. Jihoon got the keycard from the reception and helped carry your bags to the elevator. There weren’t many people around, seeing as you had just missed rush hour, and you ended up getting the elevator all to yourselves. The eleventh button was glowing. You couldn’t remember if you had ever been in a hotel room so high up. While you were lost in your thoughts, Jihoon snuck up right next to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. The bags were on the floor right by your feet, right next to the bag with your dress. The memory of the silky fabric made you smile. He had found something to your taste just for this occasion.

“I’m going to order some food when we get up,” Jihoon said. “But there’s a very nice bathroom with a waterfall shower so, if you want to freshen up before we go out later, I can postpone dinner.”

“We’re eating dinner in the hotel room, but still going out after?” You turned to him with an intrigued look. “What do you have planned?”

“It’s a secret.”

The suite was huge - which, to be fair, is what you should expect from a suite. When you walked in, you were met with the king-sized bed, its headboard against the wall. To the left of it were the windows and balcony, and if it hadn’t been for the cold, you would’ve stepped out on it immediately. To the right of the bed, the floor dipped down one step. There stood what seemed to be a jacuzzi. It was covered with a gray sheet, but the nozzle was still visible. On the other side of the jacuzzi was another small step up and a door - which you assumed was the bathroom.

“Where do you want your things?” Jihoon asked after putting his bag next to the bed.

“I’ll take it to the bathroom,” you hummed.

Jihoon gave you a small nod and a smile before handing you your bag. You carried your bag across the room to the bathroom. Once the door closed, Jihoon’s smile faded. He hated that he had to figure all of this out through Soonyoung. The history between you and your ex, the meaning of Valentine’s Day for you, and even what you wanted. It felt like he didn’t know you at all, even if you had been friends before you started seeing each other romantically. A big clump of sorrow had grown in his throat ever since he talked to Soonyoung about you earlier that day.

He was in his studio, working like any other day of the week. You had told him that you’d rather not do Valentine’s Day. That it wasn’t your thing, and Jihoon had taken that at face value and respected it. He thought it was what he was supposed to do as your boyfriend. If it weren’t for the city's decorations, he would have completely forgotten the holiday. In fact, he had forgotten that it was the fourteenth already. It was only when Soonyoung burst in with a cute bouquet that he remembered what day it was.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Soonyoung had shouted jokingly as he handed him the bouquet.

There was a small pink note attached to it. It said “Be Mine?” in curvy red letters. Jihoon scoffed at the gifts but still put them somewhere he wouldn’t forget them. The flowers had a small plastic bag with a wet paper towel wrapped around their ends, so they could make it another few hours before he put them in a vase.

“Where did you even find a floral shop right now? It’s only eight in the morning.”

“I have my ways.” Soonyoung shrugged. “What do you have planned for tonight?”

“Nothing,” Jihoon said nonchalantly.

The sudden silence from his usually loud friend made Jihoon push off one of the ear cushions of his headphones and turn to him.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re not doing anything for Valentine’s Day?” Soonyoung was unusually serious.

“Y/N said that she’d rather not do anything,” he answered. “Am I not supposed to respect that?”

“Did you ask her why?”

“I just assumed she didn’t like this kind of stuff. She doesn’t like those cheesy things.” Jihoon tried to brush off the sudden feeling of stress that he had done something wrong, but Soonyoung’s sad face only made him worry more.

“Maybe not, but you didn’t plan anything at all?”

“What?”

Soonyoung sighed, before going to make himself comfortable on Jihoon’s couch. Jihoon followed his friend’s every movement, suddenly feeling like it was hard to breathe. Had he really done something wrong by just respecting your wishes?

“I’m going to assume you don’t know anything,” he said.

“Know what?” Jihoon started getting frustrated.

“Okay, well… do you remember that guy Y/N was with a few years back?”

“You don’t have to remind me…” Jihoon sighed and leaned his head back. “Yes. I know what happened between them and that she hasn’t seen him since.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know about Valentine’s,” Soonyoung explained, “She broke up with him the day after- I don’t know all the details, but they fought about what to do on Valentine’s. She was trying to keep the relationship together, and he just snapped - said he didn’t like the fourteenth and basically made her feel like a burden for trying to patch things together.”

Jihoon put his face in his hands, trying to navigate how to handle this new information. How could he have known? Maybe he should have asked, but he didn’t want to intrude on her privacy… Everybody told him that communication is key, but nobody warned him that it would be this difficult.

“Y/N loves Valentine’s Day, as long as it’s not some cheesy thing- she didn’t lie to you about that,” Soonyoung said, “She’s just scared that if she put pressure on you about it, you’d blow up on her.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because everyone’s not always rational.” Soonyoung stood back up and walked over to him. “Like you right now, you’re probably worrying about her not feeling safe around you. She does. She just has her problems to deal with. Instead of worrying, you should do something.”

“What? Like dinner and a movie?”

“No-” Soonyoung cleared his throat. “No. That’s what she wanted to do with her ex. Find something else.”

“What do people do on Valentine’s?” Jihoon’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to find the answer to his question in some corner of his mind.

“Wine tasting.”

“Wine tasting?”

“She’s always wanted to go, and I know a place- and the owner…” He paused and quickly added, “Well… Mingyu knows the owner, but you get my point.”

“And you think Y/N wants that?”

“Definitely. Go find Mingyu and ask him to help you out.”

“I will, thank you.” Jihoon stood up and walked over to the door but turned to face his friend again. “When did you start acting wise?”

“I’m a man of many mysteries.” Soonyoung joked. “You can thank me by letting me borrow your studio.”

“... fine.”

“Yes!” He quickly got up his phone and started tapping. “If you see me go live, no, you don’t.”

Not even wanting to think about what that meant, Jihoon left the studio with a huff.

The sound of the water turning on in the shower brought Jihoon out of his thoughts. You seemed happy, albeit nervous, so he shouldn’t have anything to worry about… but he couldn’t help worrying about you and your feelings. He would do anything to make you forget about your past connotations with today. Jihoon got out his phone and looked at his messages. “Do you know that Soonyoung’s in your studio right now?” sent in different variations from many different people… he would have to worry about this later. Tonight was supposed to be all about you, so he turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket.

You were blissfully unaware of Jihoon’s troubles as you stood in the stream of the waterfall shower. The warm water created a comforting barrier around your body. The steam from it created a mist that seemed to silence all sounds except the water hitting the floor. You could close your eyes and forget everything around you for a moment. Letting the water run over your head yet another time before turning the nozzle off, you let yourself have a moment of pure silence. Without the water running down your body, the cold air started tickling your skin. You reached outside the shower and grabbed your towel, drying yourself off before wrapping it around you.

The bathroom of the suite was as luxurious as the rest of it. There was a window, currently fogged up from the steam, facing another part of the city than the windows in the bedroom. The toilet seemed to have different settings, given the many buttons you didn’t dare touch, and the sink had a wide marble top. In a box on the sink, there were a plethora of travel-sized sample products - and you looked through their assortment before doing your skincare. You could hear Jihoon talking on the other side of the door, probably ordering the two of you room service, but his voice was too muffled for you to hear what he was saying. You wondered just how much Soonyoung had told Jihoon for him to act this way. Jihoon wasn’t neglectful. However, he didn’t always know how to express how he felt through acts of service or coming up with cute dates. The two of you spent most of your time together the way you had when you were just friends, with some changes of course. Your most precious memories with Jihoon were from the simple times; watching movies together, going out to get coffee, or laying in bed together during the morning when neither of you could get up. He knew he didn’t have to do something like this, you had told him yourself, but he decided to do it anyway. You smiled to yourself as you put on the fluffy hotel bathrobe.

When you got out of the bathroom, you looked to your left to see an entire area of the room that you seemed to have missed. Your want for a luxurious shower was bigger than your want to explore the room, it seemed. The unknown area of the hotel room had a couch with a TV in front of it and a lonely armchair standing in the corner. There was a small bar with a minifridge, and on the coffee table stood a pink, heart-shaped box and a bouquet of red roses in a vase. Beside the coffee table stood a very flustered Jihoon, looking puzzled at the sight of the box and flowers.

“Are those for us?” You asked, making Jihoon look at you.

He paused for a moment at the sight, forgetting the box of chocolates on the table, his jaw first going slack before he started smiling. Clearing his throat, he looked back at the coffee table and picked up a note to show you.

“It looks that way,” he said.

You took the note from him; “Enjoy the evening! Happy Valentine’s Day, from the staff of Prestige View,” it said in bold golden letters. You turned it around in your hand, but there was nothing else on the back.

“I told them it was a Valentine’s getaway. I didn’t think they’d do something like this so last minute,” Jihoon said and took another look at you. “Did you enjoy the shower?”

“It was the most wonderful shower I’ve had in a while.” You put down the card and approached him with your arms open. “Thank you for doing this. It’s very sweet.”

“You don’t have to thank me… I wanted to do this,” he assured you as he wrapped his arms around you.

Jihoon nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his cool breaths against your warm skin. You squeezed him tighter as he whispered how beautiful you looked. It was barely audible, and you silently acknowledged it by pressing a kiss to the side of his head. He pulled away from you with a small smile, his eyes sparkling with adoration. Your moment was ruined by a knock at your door and a voice shouting, “Room service!”.

“I’ll get that; make yourself comfortable.” Jihoon left your side.

You sat down on the plush cushions of the couch, practically sinking into the fabric - almost like floating on a cloud. Just as you put a blanket over your legs, Jihoon comes back with a big tray. You let out a delighted gasp as he put it down on the coffee table.

“You still like sushi, right?” Jihoon joked as he went to grab two bottles of water from the mini-fridge.

“Yes.” You looked over the large tray and the many different kinds of sushi bites.

Quickly, you patted the space beside you for him to sit down. Jihoon put the bottles on the table and sat down. You captured his face with your hands and brought your lips to his cheek for a thank-you kiss. The sudden act of affection had the man beside you stumped - barely moving while you reached for the tray with your chopsticks.

“You’re being ridiculous,” he chortled with a reddened face.

“No, am not- dish ish amashing,” you said with your hand over your mouth to hide the piece of sushi you were still chewing.

You looked over at Jihoon, who had still not touched the food. He was still stuck looking at you as if he was trying to memorize every detail of how you looked at this moment. With one hand, he reached over to your head and ruffled your hair despite your grunts of protest coming from you.

“Eat well,” he said and started eating himself.

Once the food was finished, at least as much as you could muster, and after a food coma nap on the couch, the two of you started getting ready for the mysterious evening. Whatever he had planned, Jihoon wasn’t telling you. All you knew was that he wanted you to wear the dress he had gotten you, so while Jihoon was in the shower, you picked up the bag and looked at the garments inside. It was a silky dress and lingerie with a matching color. The thought of your boyfriend knowing exactly what you were wearing under your dress throughout the rest of the evening felt exciting in some strange way.

Your fingers grazed the green fabric of the dress - you were almost too afraid to put it on. It looked expensive. A part of you wondered how he had gotten it so fast. Had he gotten someone else to get it for him? Had he gone into stores himself? Picturing it in your head almost made you start laughing. You could see him furrowing his brows at the sizes and different shapes. Mustering up the courage to put it on, you sadly find out that the underwear doesn’t fit very comfortably. And although you want to wear it for him, it would just not work. So you put on the undergarments that you had brought with you - which were not as luxurious as the ones he had bought, but they were still pretty. You had packed it at the last minute, just in case you needed it. More importantly, the dress fit you perfectly to the point that you questioned how he could pick it out.

When Jihoon got out of the bathroom, he was already dressed. His hair was still slightly damp, it was slicked back to the best of his abilities, but a few strands of hair still fell over his face. His all-black suit made you think of one of those dramas where the main female character gets together with a demon.

“You look beautiful,” he said, but his eyes drifted over to the bed where the lingerie he bought was still lying. “Are you…”

“It didn’t fit,” you answered quickly. “I put on something that I brought. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course, it’s okay.” He walked over to the bed to return the garments in their bag. “I’ll just get you a better size next time.”

“Next time?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

“Sure, why not?” He put the bag down on the floor and turned back to you. “I liked getting you these…”

“Well, I won’t stop you.” You walked up next to him and held onto his arm. “You look very handsome, by the way.”

Jihoon put his hand on top of yours, still holding onto his forearm, and gently squeezed it as a silent thank you. A soft squeeze of your hand was his usual way of communicating things to you that he didn’t know how to express verbally. The casual compliment proved too much for him; he avoided eye contact, and you could see his ears turning red. You would never think that this man could get so flustered the first time you talked to him. He was quiet then too, but he was calm and collected. Maybe it was a front, and maybe he was good at hiding these things from strangers - either way, you were happy that he felt a little more comfortable now.

The two of you made your way to the hotel restaurant, and you were looking for something that could tell you what you were in for. Dark hallways and furniture, lit up by elegant chandeliers in the ceiling and sleek lights on the walls, made the hotel seem endless. You and Jihoon walked in comfortable silence, mostly because you were trying to focus on finding signs. There were other people around you dressed in visibly expensive clothes, so you knew that it wasn’t a private event. However, you had no idea what kind of thing Jihoon could come up with.

At the entrance to the restaurant, you were greeted by a tall man with a slim mustache. He was dressed in the colors of the hotel and had a small name tag. You neither had the time nor energy to read what it said, as it was written in complicated cursive, and the man quickly opened the door for you after Jihoon said his name. In the restaurant, there were round tables placed in a half-circle. By each table stood two chairs, and the man by the door brought you to one by a large floor-to-ceiling window. Out the window, you could see the entire city. It wasn’t very late, so most of the windows in the buildings surrounding you were lit. The man pulled the chair out for you, and you sat down.

“Thank you,” you said, and the man walked away.

A tall candle, a small plate and knife, and a myriad of wine glasses were on the table. In front of you was a small card, and on the front of it said “Menu” in the same kind of cursive as on the man’s ineffective name tag.

“Are we eating more?” you asked with a worried glance at Jihoon.

“Open it,” he answered simply.

You opened the card and read a list of French and Italian names, most of which you couldn’t pronounce.

“Wine?” You looked back up at Jihoon with big eyes. “Is this a wine-tasting event?”

“Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said with a big smile. “Thank you, honey.”

Jihoon didn’t have time to respond as another man, dressed similarly to the man by the door, stood in the middle of the half-circle and began speaking. The murmur of the people in the room died down as everyone turned their attention to the man.

“Welcome to our Valentine’s wine-tasting event,” he said with a clear and loud voice, “I will be presenting the wines for you all tonight, along with the assortment of refreshments that go along with them. To start the night, our servers are currently providing you with an extra dry Prosecco.”

A server approached your table and poured the sparkling wine into your glasses as if on cue. The murmur started up again as everyone began talking about the wine. You thanked the waiter, and he walked away.

“This 2022 sparkling wine, made of the Glera grape, has hints of apple and honey,” the wine presenter said. “This is produced in the province of Trieste, Italy…”

The man kept talking, but you started to tune him out when he started saying words you didn’t recognize. You carefully sniffed the wine before taking a sip of it.

“Good?” Jihoon asked.

“Very good.” You put your glass down and opened the booklet of wines. “I don’t know how much I should drink of it… how many glasses are on the menu?”

“Six,” he answered. “Including the Prosecco.”

You looked at the list; Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, Merlot, Nebbiolo, and Vin Santo… yeah, you’d be drunk by the end. The glasses weren’t extremely big, and they certainly didn’t fill the glass all the way, but there was no way you’d walk out of here just barely tipsy if you drank everything.

“Drink as much as you want, okay?” Jihoon brought you out of your spiraling thoughts. “I’ll take care of you- even if I have to carry you out of here.”

You chuckled at his joke and comfortably brought the glass of Prosecco to your lips again. Jihoon was still looking at you when you put your glass down. He had a certain look in his eye that you had only really seen a couple of times before. Mischief mixed with something sentimental - playful and romantic.

“What?” You asked.

“All of this…” He motioned to your surroundings. “It suits you… it’s sexy.”

“Sexy?” You raised your brows as you raised your glass to your lips again. “Good to know.”

Jihoon looked away from you, one of his hands coming up to hide his reddened face. He let out a huff and straightened his back.

“I just mean that-”

“No, I heard you,” you teased.

Before Jihoon could get another word in, the servers came out with the next wine; Pinot Grigio, paired with small crackers with goat cheese and apricot jam. The presenter began speaking about the wine again, but your head was already buzzing, and you were far too distracted to listen to him. One of your feet was running up the inside of Jihoon’s calf. Your hand was resting on the table between you, and Jihoon quickly put his hand on top of yours.

“What are you up to?” He asked with a strained smile.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” You picked up the second glass of wine as you brought your foot up higher.

You brought the wine to your lips, letting out a delighted hum before putting the glass down again. Jihoon squeezed your hand as your foot was now brushing against the inside of his thigh. Instead of backing down, you let go of Jihoon’s hand and picked up one of the crackers. A little bit of jam got on your finger as you put the appetizer in your mouth. You locked eyes with him as you put the tip of your finger in your mouth.

“You’re insatiable,” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged and grabbed your drink again.

Jihoon shook his head slowly, picking up his glass. However, just as he started to enjoy teasing, you brought your foot back down. He gave you a confused look, trying to figure out your motive.

“Did you like the wine?” You asked, ignoring the tension growing between you.

After each glass, the soft buzzing feeling in your head grew more prominent. You got giggly and touchy - you couldn’t seem to let go of Jihoon’s hand across the table. The restaurant offered you bread and other refreshments along with your drinks and played romantic ballads over the speakers. It wasn’t like anything you had done with Jihoon before, but it was just perfect for tonight. Your teasing under the table had stopped, although you sometimes nudged your foot next to his, but the tension it had left between you didn’t break. At this point, you weren’t listening to the wine presenter nor taking his advice on how you should drink the wine. Maybe some of the wine-tasting experience was gone because of it, but you were more than content with the night still. When they brought out the Vin Santo, they also came out with a dessert; a tiramisu shaped into a heart and two spoons. Jihoon quickly picked up one of the spoons and let it sink into the dessert. The spoon dipped into the creamy dessert, ruining the layer of cacao powder laying on top. Picking the spoon back up with a perfectly bite-sized piece on it, he held it up to your mouth.

“Are you feeding me?” You asked with a giggle.

“I want you to have the first bite.” He smiled and urged the spoon toward you again.

You opened your mouth and as you closed it around the spoon, you were hit with an explosion of flavor - the strong espresso, the bitter cacao, and the sweet lady-fingers and cream. The two of you laughed, for no real reason, as Jihoon pulled back the spoon.

“This has been so nice,” you said and motioned to the last glass on the table. “But I won’t be able to finish this drink…”

“That’s alright,” he hummed. “Do you want to… go back to our room?”

“Yes, please.”

After, not so carefully, sneaking out of the restaurant while the wine presenter was talking, you walked through the long hallways towards your room. Jihoon's hand was at first only placed on your lower back, but eventually snuck around your waist to keep the both of you upright. The two of you had been drinking a lot, but the long walk helped sober you up just a little. You'd definitely get a headache in the morning, but it wasn't something you couldn't handle. As the two of you finally got to your hallway, you were ready to throw yourself in bed - but Jihoon apparently had other plans.

“I still have another surprise for you, you know.” He held your waist firmer, keeping you close to his side. “They should’ve set it up for us in the room by now.”

You excitedly giggled as you watched Jihoon fumble with the keycard before unlocking the door. As soon as he opened it, the smell of roses hit your nose. By your feet laid a trail of red rose petals, which was leading you into the room. You followed the trail with careful steps and looked up as they came to a stop. The jacuzzi was now turned on and bubbling. In the water, even more rose petals were floating. Jihoon came up behind you and wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

“Is it okay?” He whispered next to your ear.

“It’s perfect,” you answered softly and with a warm smile. “If this is last minute, I can’t even imagine what you could do with time on your hands.”

“You could find out,” he suggested and pressed a kiss to the area where your neck meets your shoulder.

Jihoon’s words, although softly spoken and barely over a whisper, sent a shiver down your spine. His hands played with the fabric of your dress, and you leaned back against his chest to fully welcome his embrace. The soft kisses he was placing on your shoulder and neck didn’t stop, and you leaned your head to the side to allow him more access.

“I’d love to keep this going,” you whispered. “But I don’t want to waste all this.”

Your boyfriend sighed and let you go, the absence of his arms leaving a chilly imprint around your waist. You went to take off your shoes. After putting your feet on the floor, you looked up to see Jihoon taking out his button-up from his pants to unbutton it. You watched in anticipation as he shrugged off the shirt, watching the muscles in his back move as he did. He threw his shirt on a chair before unbuckling his belt, all while being unaware of you ogling at him. When his pants had been unbuttoned, he finally looked back at you - at your fully dressed form.

“Are you going to make me get in alone?” He asked.

“I…” You paused to find an excuse. “Well, since I didn't have time to get you a Valentine's Day present, I thought you could unwrap me instead.”

"Ah, so that's the only reason you were just standing there looking at me?" Jihoon teased.

"Definitely." You nodded, content with your answer.

Jihoon motioned for you to come over to him, which you quickly did. You had no trouble unzipping yourself from this dress but getting a little help never hurt. His hands made work of your zipper, slowly dragging it down your back. The soft touch of his fingers tracing the edges of your lingerie had your head buzzing more than the amount of wine you had been drinking.

“Thank you,” you murmured and let the straps slide off your shoulders.

It always felt a little nerve-wracking to get undressed in front of him - being vulnerable with him like this was still somewhat new to you. Nevertheless, the feeling of him embracing you again comforted you.

“You look beautiful,” he said. "I thought it'd be fun to buy lingerie for you, but letting it be a surprise might be better..."

You got out of his grip and turned to him, putting a hand on his chest to prevent him from wrapping his arms around you again. Jihoon was grinning like a love-sick fool - an expression that you hadn’t seen much of before, but that you could definitely get used to.

“Stop fooling around,” you said. “We haven’t even gotten in the hot tub yet…”

"Then let me finish unwrapping my present," he argued with a flirtatious tone.

You let your hand fall to your side, allowing Jihoon to approach you again. His hands went behind your back, playing with the edge of your lingerie again before unhooking the bra. He took his hands back from behind you and gently, almost innocently, pulled the straps of your bra down. The garment fell to the floor with a soft thud. Jihoon brushed your hair to the side, pressing a few kisses on your neck before trailing them down your clavicle; down between the valley of your breast, over your stomach. When he was down on his knees, he looked back up you - silently asking for permission as he played with the hem of your panties. You nodded, and Jihoon pressed a kiss to your hipbone before pulling them down.

After getting fully undressed, and after Jihoon grabbed the box of chocolates and two bottles of water, you sat down in the jacuzzi. With one hand, he opened up the box and put the lid on the floor. He picked up a random piece and put it in his mouth, making a weird grimace.

“Not good?” You asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “Could you hand me the water?”

You picked up one of the bottles for him, unscrewing the top and handing it to him before you grabbed the second bottle for yourself. Drinking the cold water contrasted nicely with the hot bath. While it didn’t help you to sober up completely, it helped you clear your head a little.

“Sad to let them go to waste…” you said as you put the cap back on your bottle, and he hummed in agreement.

“I’ll take them with me, maybe someone else likes them.” He put down the water bottle and offered to put yours down as well, which you gladly accepted.

Jihoon let out a sigh and leaned his head back, while you moved over to sit beside him. One of your hands caressed his chest and landed on his shoulder, while your head rested on his other shoulder. Jihoon wrapped one of his arms around your frame, trying to pull you impossibly close.

“Tonight was perfect,” you confessed.

“You’re talking like the night’s over.” He turned his head to look at you.

“It’s not over?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Jihoon cupped your face in his palm, bringing your face closer to his.

The two of you looked into each others’ eyes before he suddenly broke out into an embarrassed fit of giggles. His forehead leaned against yours.

“Sorry… that was cheesy, wasn’t it?” His thumb was caressing your cheekbone, slowly going back and forth over the soft skin.

“It was sweet,” you assured him. “But a little bit cheesy, yes.”

He let out another short laugh and turned away from you, suddenly very shy. Your hand left his shoulder to turn his face back to you. The way that he looked at you drowned out all sound, even the sound of the hot tub jets, and for a moment you let yourself be engulfed by bliss. It wasn’t how you had imagined spending Valentine’s Day - it was better than you could have imagined. You wrapped your arms around Jihoon’s neck and brought him closer for a kiss. At first, it was gentle, practically just a peck, but then you grew hungry. In a sudden need for more, you pressed your lips against his again. Your lips danced for dominance, all the while Jihoon gripped your hips to maneuver you to straddle his lap. Everything was spinning, you found yourself completely lost in his kiss - only for Jihoon to break it, the feeling of him smiling against your lips making you smile as well.

“What?” you asked, out of breath.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just you.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, but couldn’t help your smile growing wider. Jihoon pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips, then on your jaw, down your neck, and on your clavicle. Exploring every inch of you that he could reach, Jihoon pulled you in closer. The action made you come closer to his already hardened cock. Testing out the waters, you started slowly grinding against him. Between lingering kisses against your skin, Jihoon let out soft groans and whimpers - it wasn’t even in his head to tell you to stop. Your fingers raked through his hair, silently urging him to keep going.

“Jihoon.” You let out a shaky breath. “Baby…”

“What?” He pulled away and looked up at you, pupils blown out to double their normal size and hair messy by your doing. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” you whimpered. “I need you.”

“In here?” He looked amused at your sudden desire. “Right now?”

“I don’t care-”

In a split second, Jihoon manhandled you to sit with your back against his chest. Water splashed around the tub, possibly spilling off the edge as laughter spilled from your lips. One of Jihoon’s arms was wrapped around your waist, while his other hand was spreading your thighs apart. His lips were back on your neck again - his kisses and his fingers drawing patterns on the inside of your thigh were making you dizzy.

“Is this okay?” He asked.

“Yes.”

At this point, you were aching - the simple touch of his hand where you needed him most had you falling apart. While his middle- and ring finger circled your clit, his other hand ran across your body. Jihoon was everywhere, there was no way you could escape him - so you let yourself be engulfed by all of him, slowly sinking into your body. Your mouth hung open, and your moans and whines were impossible to hide. His hot breath fanned against your neck, teeth grazing against the delicate skin before his soothing tongue made contact with it. His other hand reached your chest, fingers circling your nipple. Suddenly, in desperate need to ground yourself, you grabbed his hand. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers plunged inside you, his palm still grazing against your clit. The grip you had on his hand tightened, and you could feel him smiling against your neck. Jihoon’s hand moved expertly as if he already knew every crevice of your body - and where his touch would drive you mad. Your hips stuttered against his hand.

“There you go,” he murmured in your ear. “Fall apart on my fingers, baby, you can let go.”

The feeling of him lightly biting down on your earlobe, and the persistent thrusting of his fingers, made something snap in your lower stomach. A wave of pleasure washed over you, your body moving on its own against his hand. You could hear water splashing on the floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about it at that moment. Jihoon left his hand in between your legs, letting you ride out your high against it. His other hand lovingly held onto yours still, not even planning on letting go unless you did so first.

“Are you alright, darling?” His velvety voice brought you back to the real world.

As soon as you tried to move, Jihoon helped you to move your legs to sit across his lap. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you finally found your voice.

“I’m more than alright,” you answered.

One of Jihoon’s hands rested on your back, while the other held your legs. In his arms, you were safe - you had a feeling you always would be. You snuggled your face into the crook of his neck and closed your eyes. However, the feeling of something hard pressing against your thigh had your mind drift off to other things.

“Jihoon?”

He hummed in response.

“Could you help me get to bed?”

“Tired already?”

“Not a chance.”

The two of you managed to get out of the hot tub and dry off quickly - not caring about being completely dry before moving over to the bed. Plush pillows and covers welcomed you as you practically jump into them. You held out your arms to Jihoon, and he quickly came to your embrace. Leaning over you, his hair fell in front of his face - but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead of brushing it to the side, he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips. Clearly, he had a more important objective, and so it was up to you to brush his hair away from his face. You held it back, intertwining your fingers in his locks, and he let out a delighted sigh as your nails gently scratched against his scalp.

“Let me take care of you too,” you suggested as you broke the kiss.

For a moment, Jihoon considered it. He couldn’t deny that he loved having your lips wrapped around his cock, or even just your hand, but he couldn’t forget why he was here in the first place.

“Tonight’s about you,” he reminded you. “Just relax and let me take care of the rest.”

You couldn’t exactly say no to that kind of proposition. One of Jihoon’s hands traveled down your body again, separating your legs for a second time tonight. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. The soft and slow was nice, but now you were getting antsy. A smile flashed across Jihoon’s face, which he tried to hide by biting down on his bottom lip. Showing him your unabashed want for him was something he’d never get used to. As he lined himself up with your core, you moved your hands to grip onto his shoulders. The stretch of him entering still managed to feel like the first time you had been with him like this. As he bottomed out, you let out a guttural moan - still sensitive from your earlier orgasm.

“Fuck, you feel amazing…” Jihoon rested his head in the crook of your neck.

Having struggled through the entire night, trying not to take you on the couch earlier or even on top of the restaurant table, this alone was almost too much. The sting from your nails digging into his back cleared up his fogged-up head slightly, and he started moving. Jihoon’s movements were slow, agonizingly so, but if he moved any faster he was afraid he might cum on the spot. This entire night had been a tease for him, and now that he finally got what he wanted he didn’t know how to act. Jihoon lifted his head and looked at your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your eyes shut tight, and your bottom lip slipped between your teeth. Brushing his thumb against your cheek, and cupping your face in his palm, your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

“Please, Jihoon,” you whimpered. “Just a little faster?”

How could he say no to you? His hips picked up their pace, while his head was back in the crook of your neck. You let out a surprised moan as his teeth dug into your skin, as he tried to contain himself. How could you look more beautiful every time he laid his eyes upon you? Jihoon swore that you’d kill him someday if it continued like this. He leaned back up on his arm. The hand that wasn’t holding him up went to grab your thigh, pulling one of your legs up to rest on his shoulder. A string of swears flooded out of his mouth, and he switched positions so that he was sitting up. Your hips were pulled up on his thighs, your back arched up from the bed, and your jaw went slack as Jihoon’s hips pistoned into you - hitting a spot inside you each time that made you see stars. Your hands went to grab something, anything and landed on the sheets. The white fluffy sheets creased under the pressure of your grip. You couldn’t hold it in anymore - between managing to hit your g-spot with each thrust and your previous orgasm, you were getting all too close to the edge.

“Oh- shit,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned in response.

Your body twitched as you let go, cumming a second time this night. Jihoon, filled with a sudden determination, didn’t stop. He switched positions to lean over you again. The more intimate position allowed you to grab onto him again. Even when you had come down from your orgasm, he didn’t stop - and you weren’t about to tell him to to do so.

“Give me another one,” he practically begged.

“I can’t-”

“Yes you can, darling,” he growled. “Just let go of everything, just focus on me.”

Your legs were around his hips again, and your arms wrapped around his neck. Jihoon leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes staring into your soul. One of his hands slipped between your bodies, messily rubbing your swollen clit. You felt like you were about to explode, spasming at his movements.

“Fuck- I love you,” he groaned, “Cum for me again, darling- cum with me…”

At his command, your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came for a third time. Jihoon followed shortly after, pulling out to cum on your stomach. He threw his head back as he pumped his cock with his fist. Your limbs were unmovable, falling to the bed with a thump. His words rang in your ears. “I love you”. Was it a slip-up? Something that just happened in the heat of the moment? Or did he mean it? You didn’t have much time to think about it. Jihoon placed a kiss on your forehead, mumbling something about getting you cleaned up, before he got off the bed and went over to the bathroom.

Jihoon came back with the forgotten water bottles from before and a warm, wet towel - cleaning you up with a gentle touch, making sure that he wasn’t too rough with your aching body. When he was done, helped you under the covers before he got in himself. The water bottles were standing on the bedside table, waiting for you tomorrow morning when you’d need them most. You lay on your side, and Jihoon curled up next to you - his arms wrapped around your frame. The words he had spoken never left your thoughts. Jihoon, unaware of your spiraling thoughts, cuddled closer to you, but your stiff body caught him off guard.

“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?” He asked quickly.

“No- no… I’m fine,” you said. “It’s just… did you mean that?”

“What did I say?” Jihoon’s eyes widened.

“When you-… before-… you said ‘I love you’,” you mumbled.

With his body lying so close to you, you could hear his breath hitch. A moment of silence passed between the two of you. Jihoon’s fingers were nervously drumming against your back, you could almost hear the gears in his brain turning to think of something to say. He stirred around the bed, moving to look at you. There was no regret in his eyes, only worry.

“I’m sorry-”

“I love you too.”

Jihoon let out a short breath, which turned into a relieved laugh. The sound of his laugh made you relax, melting into his embrace again. You were struck with a sudden wave of embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest. He put his chin on the top of your head, wrapping his arms tighter around you.

“I didn’t mean to let it slip out like that,” he murmured. “I mean- I was planning on telling you, just not… like that.”

“I know,” you said and adjusted yourself to look back at him again.

Jihoon’s body relaxed under your hands, his muscles releasing any sign of tension. There was a little voice in your head, anxiously asking “What now?”, but you decided to ignore it for now. At this point, you had no reason to worry. You had an entire future ahead of you, and you got to spend it with the man lying next to you. It was more than you could ask for. Suddenly, Jihoon got a weird look on his face - as if he had just remembered something important that he had forgotten to do.

“Shit… did I forget to ask you to be my Valentine?” he asked.

You thought back to the day, trying to remember if he had ever carried out the silly tradition, and couldn’t recall that he had asked you.

“I think so,” you hummed. “You have to hurry, the day’s almost over.”

There wasn’t a clock nearby that you could check, it might have already been the fifteenth, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Jihoon cleared his throat ceremoniously and tried his best not to burst out laughing again.

“Will you be my Valentine, Y/N?”

“I’ll always be your Valentine, Jihoon,” you answered.

Quiet laughs echoed through the big room, as the two of you lay in bed talking until you fell asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺ 　 ✦ B O N U S ✦ ⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺ 　

"Sooo?"

Jihoon hadn't even noticed that Soonyoung had approached him, or that he was even in the building, and jumped a little as the man came up beside him.

"So what?" Jihoon kept walking towards the elevator.

"How was the date?"

"Good."

"Just good?"

"Yeah."

The two of them stood in silence, both of them waiting for the elevator to reach their floor. Jihoon adjusted his sunglasses and hoodie, trying to not avoid the bright lights as much as possible. He had wanted to stay at the hotel with you, to spend a quiet morning in bed together was all he wanted. However, when he's suddenly called into an important meeting he can't just ignore it - no matter how much he wanted to. Jihoon let out a quiet sigh. You were probably still in bed right now. He had paid the hotel to make sure you could take as long as you wanted to get up, all you had to do was leave the keycard in the reception before you left. As Soonyoung started whistling, Jihoon seriously started to regret not giving into your pleading to stay in bed with you. He'd kill to get to still be under those covers - he'd even let you press your cold feet against his warm body if it meant that Soonyoung would just stop whistling.

"Would you stop that?" He hissed.

"Damn... you woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Soonyoung huffed. "Poor Y/N... she probably can't even walk, right?"

"What?"

"Because of the hangover," he explained. "If you're like this, I can only imagine what it's like for her. How much did you drink last night?"

Jihoon stayed quiet.

"Wait, what did you think I meant?" Soonyoung asked with a knowing smile.

"Shut up," Jihoon groaned.

"I'm just joking, come on!" He poked Jihoon's arm. "Did you bring me back a souvenir?"

Jihoon, struck with a sudden wave of evil genius, reached into his bag and took out the weird-tasting chocolates. He handed them to Soonyoung, who giddily accepted them.

"Chocolates? For me? Gosh, you're such a romantic!"

Finally, the doors to the elevator opened with a pleasant ding. The two idols walked in, still completely silent. Seokmin came running down the hall, holding his hand out and shouting at them to hold the elevator. Jihoon held his hand out before the doors could close, and the younger man managed to get in just in time.

"Thank you," he said breathlessly.

The elevator started going up, while the three of them stood in silence. However, Seokmin quickly took note of the big pink box Soonyoung was holding.

"Who gave you chocolates? Isn't it a little late."

"Jihoon got them for me," Soonyoung bragged.

"Is that true?" Seokmin looked over at Jihoon who nodded. "Wow, I almost thought you'd bite his head off after Soonyoung's live yesterday... I mean I know it was Carat Day, but I didn't expect you to do that in..."

Soonyoung tried to shush the younger man, but it was already too late. Jihoon sighed, and turned his head to the elevator doors again. Maybe turning off his phone for the night wasn't the best idea, even if it was worth it to spend a quiet evening with you.

"Soonyoung," Jihoon said with a stern voice. "What did you do in my studio?"

637 notes · View notes

cheolism · 5 months

Text

✧ UNDER THE SKIN

✧ werewolf!choi seungcheol x reader ✧ synopsis: walking through the autumn forest you know you're not alone. there's a predator after you. but can you really be considered his prey if you're more than willing to be caught? ✧ wc is approx. 4.6k ✧ tags: supernatural au, smut, slight horror? prey-and-predator roleplay except your boyfriend is literally a werewolf. ✧ warnings: minors do not interact. feelings of being watched/stalked, being watched/stalked; prey-and-predator dynamics, mentions of being eaten; power dynamics, strength kink, overstimulation. one mention of breeding. consent !! sex without a condom, sex in the forest; multiple rounds n multiple positions. mean!seungcheol, possessive!cheol. pet names (baby, princess, babygirl) ✧ part of the svthub fall-ing for you collab!! make sure to check out the other works!!!!

the silence of the forest tries to convince you that you are completely alone.

it was as if the entire wood was holding its breath. no breeze filtered through the leaves; no birds flew overhead. it was just you and the trees.

it was completely still and you appeared to be alone.

but you know you’re not.

you wrap your flannel tighter around your body, the autumn air biting gently at your flesh. it wasn’t so cold that you found it intolerable, wasn’t so cold that you were searching for warmth. instead you sought comfort from your flannel, as if the fabric could shield you from whatever lurked in the forest.

because you weren’t alone.

you know that. you know that just as you know night would be falling in a few hours, just as you know that the full silver moon would soon begin creeping into the sky.

you weren’t ignorant enough presume you would be lucky enough to escape the notice of whatever lurked in the depths of the forest.

so you walk through the forest, looking up at the trees. their foliage was far prettier than the dull brown of the shrubbery. the trees boasted their beautiful colors, shades of vivid crimson and deep gold; there was an amber leaf on the ground larger than your hand, and you wishes that you had your phone so you could take a picture.

instead you contine to walk.

deeper and deeper you walk into the forest. it’s quiet except for your movements. even when you pass a brook, its cold waters rushing over smoothed stones, its song seems muted.

maybe it was because you are all too aware that you were being watched.

you can’t see your stalker. but you could feel them. you could feel the weight of their eyes on your body, could feel how the hairs at the back of your neck were rising.

turning around only meant that you would be walking directly into their path. and so you continue onwards, deeper and deeper.

you wish your boyfriend was here.

seungcheol isn’t extraordinarily brave; he isn’t necessarily a hero. he didn’t push you in front of him when the two of you dared to go into haunted houses during halloween but he still rushed through them, his hand clamped tightly around yours as he tried to find an exit.

he isn’t a physical fighter either. but there is something about seungcheol’s presence that humbled those around him. from his broad stature to his thick brows, seungcheols’a aura just said that he wasn’t someone to mess with.

but you know him beneath that exterior. his cute pouts, his boyish laughter and charm. his devotion to you. that was who you wanted at your side right now, walking through the forest with that feeling of being watched never leaving.

it would be nice to even hold his hand, you think. to feel his warm. even if you just linked your pinkie through his you would be all right.

you pause beneath a maple tree. it is large, its leaves a gradient that shift from bright yellow to a fiery orange.

a bird sings overhead. and you listen. it stops quickly, and you watch as it breaks from the treeline to fly away, abandoning you to whomever watched you walk through the forest.

seungcheol wouldn’t abandon you. he would keep watch over you while you rested, would grab your hand and reassure you before leading you back through the forest.

you continue on your way.

eventually you come across a river. it is wide enough to where you don’t dare to swim and you know better than to think that you could wade across. fallen tree leaves float along, and you wish for a fleeting moment that you could be a leaf and just float away.

but you weren’t a leaf.

you follow the river alongside its muddy edge, walking quickly so your shoes won’t sink too far. there’s a bridge ahead, it’s black metal vivid against the beautiful and serene autumn scene.

there is a gravel path that leads to the bridge. as soon as you step onto it, rocks shifting beneath your feet, you hear something.

you can’t be sure of what it is. you couldn’t really make anything out, the noise quiet and muffled. but you know there’s something out there.

you go still.

you hear a bush rustling behind you, hidden, and that’s all you need to continue onward. you go onto the bridge, reaching for the cold railing. you slide your fingers along its surface as you walk, its frigidness biting at your fingers.

you are halfway when you feel it. your entire body freezes, heart hammering so loudly in your chest that it almost sounds like thunder. you can’t move. you imagine this was what your ancestors felt like when they came upon a saber-tooth tiger or some other sort of apex predator. you imagine them frozen with horror; paralyzed with it.

“look at me baby.”

as if his words were a commandment given by a god, you are powerless to do anything but obey. you turn on the bridge.

and he’s standing there.

he is stocky with broad shoulders and hips. his hair is a mop of black waves. you can’t make out his features, but you knew him and knew there was a smirk playing on his dark cherry lips, knew that his lips were twinkling underneath his thick brows.

“you’ve walked awfully far, princess,” he says. he steps onto the bridge entirely. you watch him the way prey watches their hunters; fearful and observant. “don’t you think it’s time to stop? time to give in?”

for another horrifying moment you can’t speak. pure horror freezes your entire being. you were right, you had been followed, had been stalked through the forest. you wish you had been wrong.

you knew him, knew the danger that lurked underneath his skin.

your thigh twitched from being held so tightly for so long. you became alive again.

you make a step back. he takes several more towards you, walking casually, uncaring of your fear. you can only move a little compared to his broad, relaxed steps.

he continues to talk as he moves towards you. “i thought you would’ve given up by now, baby. would’ve turned back to the car before now.”

“you --” your voice breaks. “you’re -- you leave me alone.”

“aw,” he says, now close enough that you can see his grin. “it’s cute that you think you’ve got any authority here, princess.”

it’s horrible the way that his words electrify you. they send shocks of fear and something you refuse to name through your system; make your entire being alive with something other than fear.

he looks up to the sky. you can’t help but follow his gaze. the sun was sinking, the light blue of the sky making way for sweet pinks and soft oranges.

“the full moon is tonight.” he puts his hands into his coat pockets, looking back at you and still grinning. the two of you are still too far apart for you to make the fine details of him, such as his eyelashes but you swear you can see his canines; see hos abnormally long they were and how they glinted in the light.

“the sun’s going down.” he keeps his gaze on you as he continues across the bridge, his footfalls striking fear further into your heart. “looks like we’ve missed supper, princess. but don’t worry. i think i see something temping in front of me . . . “

“and i just can’t wait to eat you up.”

his words seem to get you back into motion. you turn on him and begun to run to the other side of the bridge, footsteps loud, every fiber in your being screaming at you to get away.

get away, get away, get away from him, get away from that wolf.

you can hear him running after you. you need to go quick, need to go faster.

“come on princess!” he shouts. you try to pick up speed. you need to go and go and go, needed to find your way back to your car. need to get in and lock the door and go far far away.

the wolf was going to get you. and he was going to devour you.

“stop running babe!” you leave the gravel path behind, breaking into the treeline and into the forest. “I’m gonna get you! running will just prolong it!”

the trees blend, and your breath becomes harsher. your heart hammers in your chest.

you can’t keep running. you can’t hide either, not with his superior sense of smell due to his nature.

you conclude that you will have to try and fight when you feel something grab you. you’re yanked back and you can feel arms wrap around you before the combined momentum of his body hitting yours makes you strike the ground.

you don’t land on the ground but on him. for a moment you are breathless, hands clenching at his flannel as you fight for breath. he’s not out of breath at all, and his thick eyebrows are high on his face as he watches you.

“told you i’d catch you,” he says, smug. his eyes flicker over your face, drinking you in. “now you’re mine, princess.”

you push back against him, trying to tear yourself out of his arm, thick arms. he lets you go for a moment, letting you think that you can get away. then his arms are wrapping back around you, pushing.

he traps you against the ground. you can hear leaves crinkling underneath your body as you lash out against the man, trying to push his body away. but he’s sturdy, his thick thighs framing yours and his hands pressing against your shoulders and keeping you down.

“come on, baby,” he says, thick lips pushed into a pout. “stop fighting me. i’ve got you.”

you nearly have your breath when he begins to lower his face to yours. you can’t help but look at him, take in his striking features. the set of his eyes, the sweet brown of them. his smirk and how his lips are slightly cracked.

his breath ghosts over your face as he takes you in. his lips hover over your cheeks; your temple. his body is warm and heavy on you, to the point where you can no longer feel the bitter autumn air.

he moves his hand to your face. he presses his palm against your cheek, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. he has you in the literal palm of his hand and you were helpless. all thoughts of fighting has left your system and you can’t help but bask in his presence now that he’s here.

“see?” he is smirking. his thumb tugs at your mouth. his canines look awfully sharp. “all the fight’s left you, baby. you’re in my arms, where you belong.”

that sends the fight back into you. you wrinkle your face, hands releasing their grip on his flannel to push at him again. “fuck you!”

he laughs. “come on, princess. just a taste, babygirl. just a bite.”

he shifts on you, weight going to your thighs. he moves his face back to yours, lips skimming over the curve of your cheek and the line of your jaw.

“just a bite,” he echoes. as soon as you feel his teeth against your skin you freeze, hand going back to his coat and twisting.

it’s horrible, you think. horrible that you’re so eager for him.

you tilt your head back, baring your neck.

you can feel his smile against your throat. he bites at your neck weakly, without any real intent. you can’t help but whine.

“see princess? you’re so eager for me, so willing.” his words send a flood of warmth through your body and you can feel it as they settle in your cunt, could feel the way your juices begin to wet your panties.

you whine something that sounds like a name. he exhales against your skin, one of his hands moving against your body. he moves his hand up underneath your shirt. you can’t help but jolt as your body is exposed to the chilled autumn air.

“don’t worry, baby,” he soothes. he presses his nose against your throat, breathing you in. his hands settles against your stomach, thumb swiping at your skin. “i’ll take good care of you, princess.”

it’s horrible, you think. your boyfriend is such a sweet man. he buys you more clothes and jewelry than you know what to do with, spoiling you relentlessly. he treats you as if you’re a princess. he loves you with every fiber of his being, loves your fiercely and treasures you more than any diamond.

and here he is, body settled over yours. he stalked you through the forest, used his werewolf senses to track you down and make you feel like you were being hunted. he has you trapped beneath him, has you wishing so desperately he would just devour you.

he was your kind, sweet boyfriend.

and here he is reminding you that underneath his skin he’s a predator.

and you are his prey.

seungcheol's hand moves further up your shirt as his mouth diligently works against your neck. he nibbles at your skin, alternating between biting gently and sucking. he's teasing you, you know; teasing you and making you nothing but putty beneath him.

"get off," you mumble, words quiet and body moving against him, trying to feel more and more of him. "leave me alone."

you can feel seungcheol grin against your skin. his fingers skim along the underside of your breast and through your bra, but you can feel the scrape of his nail against you. your mind focuses on the tingling sensation, and when he shifts on you again, his knee coming up and pressing against your cunt, you can't help but get truly desperate.

immediately you're flattening your cunt against his knee, rubbing against it through the layers of fabric.

he laughs at you. "see? i've barely even done anything to you and you're so desperate for me, princess. you could cum from just this, can't you?"

you shake your head in denial. seungcheol moves his hand over your breast, tracing your nipple through your bra. his begins sucking at your skin in favor, grinding his knee up against your cunt.

"cheol," you sob out, fingers grabbing at him. "need more."

"so much for pretending," he laughs. he pulls his face from your neck. "chasing you really got you all bothered, didn't it?"

"don't make fun of me!" you can't help but whine at him.

seungcheol chuckles again. he's grinning at you, eyes sparkling with affection. "what do you want to do? keep playing?"

you sniffle. "please."

his smile hardens into something more cunning. he takes out his hand from underneath your shirt, letting the cold air hit your stomach again. "hm? what's that, baby? want me to be the big bad wolf? want me to be mean and rough?"

you want it. horribly, you want it. the thought of your boyfriend, your big strong werewolf boyfriend, loosing himself.

"come on babygirl. use your words."

"please," you beg.

seungcheol laughs again. "fuck, princess. such a fucking slut, aren't you? so fucking desperate. you don't care what's going on as long as i'm fucking you."

"just want you," you agree. and you did. you wanted seungcheol so fucking much. wanted him, his strong hands pressing you against the forest floor, his fat cock fucking into your cunt. you wanted him in a way you never wanted anything else, a way completely foreign to except for when you were with choi seungcheol.

"cute." seungcheol moves off of you just enough so he could begin working at your pants. he pops the button of your jeans quickly, pulling your jeans off just as fast. you can't even despair at the cold air before he's moving his body back over yours.

"can't believe you ran from me." he pushes his knee back up to your cunt. now that your jeans were out of the way you could feel him better, could feel the scratch of his jeans against your cunt and through your panties better.

and it feels so fucking good. grinding your cunt down on his knee, using him. it sends sparks to your gut and cunt, and your hips move on their own, searching.

"ran from me and here you are, fucking yourself on my knee." seungcheol lowers his face back to yours, lips skimming over your cheek. he doesn't kiss you. normally his lips are constantly against yours, devouring your mouth. but he keeps his mouth away from yours, and it does something to your mind to know that your boyfriend, the man who would give you the world, won't give you this one thing.

"my hands are cold, baby," he says. seungcheol moves his hand back along your chest, letting his fingers skim over you. "guess i'll just have to use you to get warmed up."

you shake your head, trying to remember the plot. "nnn -- no -- pervert --"

but then you grab his hand and push it down. seungcheol slips his hand into your panties, finding your cunt and molding his hand against it naturally.

"fuck, princess," he sighs, lashes fluttering. "cunt's so fucking warm. gonna feel so good milking my cock."

your cunt tightens at his words, wishing it was his cock. he grins, mouth to your neck. he mouths at your neck, kissing sloppily while his hand slowly moves at your pussy.

he works his hand against you, fingers slow. he draws his fingers against your cunt and clit over and over and over, playing your pussy through your panties languidly; as if you were in the comfort of your bed and not on the forest floor, bodies surrounded by fallen autumn leaves.

seungcheol works you to orgasm slowly. satisfaction escapes you -- you want more. you want him fucking you, want him rough against you.

but seungcheol refuses. he bites and licks at your neck, marking you. he maneuvers his fingers so his thumb is pressing flat against your clit through the fabric of your underwear. he focuses on your clit, dragging his thumb over it.

and you hate it.

his hand at your cunt has you whining, hips bucking up and begging for more. your panties are soaked through, warm from the heat of your pussy. you can't feel him the way you want to, can't feel all of him the way you so desperately need.

"need," you rasp out. one of your hands moves to the forest ground beside you, grabbing. leaves crinkle in your grasp. "more, please. more, need more, cheol."

seungcheol removes his hand from your cunt. you whine high at the back of your throat. you wanted more, didn't want him to take his hand away completely.

"such a little slut for me," he laughs. he moves back, sitting. seungcheol grabs your panties in both hands and pulls. your underwear is ripped, and he tosses them aside. "all i had to do was get you beneath me, huh? just had to show some dominance and you're nothing but an eager little slut."

"not," you protest. his hands smooth over your thighs and then he's pushing them apart. "not a slut."

"no?" he moves his hand along your skin, fingernails dragging and sending sparks through you. "then what would you call it, princess? running from me only to give up as soon as i get my hands on you?"

"you're mean."

seungcheol raises a thick brow. he doesn't disagree. his hand finds your cunt naturally. two of his thick fingers hook into your pussy just as quickly, familiar with your body.

"i'm mean?" he slowly feeds his fingers into you, sliding them until you've taken their entire length. you can't help but let your eyes roll back, mouth parting in a wordless moan. his fingers were always so thick, stretching out your cunt and making it burn in the most delightful way.

"i'm mean and yet here i am, fucking your little cunt with my fingers on the forest floor."

"you're not," you argue, voice tight. "you're just sitting there. not moving them, just fucking using my -- my --"

he grins. "your what, princess?"

you refuse to say it, twisting your fingers against the leaves on either side of you. the autumn air bites at your skin but you can't care, can't care when seungcheol's body is framing you and his thick fingers are up your pussy.

"say it." with one hand in your cunt he uses the other to push back his hair, showing off how he has one eyebrow cocked. "gotta use your words, baby. or i'll just leave you here. make you walk all the way to your car with no panties, cunt wanting more."

you whine. "i -- cheol."

he hums, shifting. the movement has his fingers sliding, just slightly, in your pussy. it's just enough to remind you of how desperate you are.

"please," you beg, "please cheol. i want -- i want you to fuck me, want you to fuck -- fuck my pussy."

seungcheol laughs, and then he's pulling his fingers from your pussy. you don't have a chance to miss his fingers before he's shoving them back in. he isn't gentle, and he's fucking your cunt with his fingers the way he would use his cock.

the pain of being opened isn't pain so much as it is that pleasure-pain that you crave. the sort that you seek out after a long day. it's the sort that has you moaning and letting your legs fall all the way open, allowing seungcheol to move closer.

you could cum like this.

but then seungcheol moves his hand from your pussy entirely. you groan, hips still moving up in hopes of him sinking his hand back into your pussy. you want, you want and want and want and here he was, depriving you, turning you into this wanton creature.

seungcheol then works at his jeans and all the protests vanish. you watch hungrily as he discards his jeans and underwear.

his dick makes you drool as soon as you see it. thick and long and pretty. he wraps his hand around it, rubbing at the head. you can't help but watch, greedy, as a white pearl of cum begins to bead at its tip.

"want it?" he asks despite knowing you do. "should make you beg, shouldn't i? make you beg for my cock."

you open your mouth to do just that but then he's on you. seungcheol's large hands are on your body, moving you, manipulating you. he flips you onto your front, moving you to rest on your knees. you can feel him press his cock against your ass, and, like a slut, you push back against him, hoping he'd fuck into you.

seungcheol does. he fucks into your cunt, shoving his dick into your pussy and mounting you like an animal. as if you were both animals. he allows your pussy to adjust for just a moment, just long enough for you to grab at the ground and bury your face against the cold dirt.

and then seungcheol's fucking you. he rams his cock into your pussy, relentless. the angle due to the position has you drooling, has you biting your lips and moaning.

"take it," he commands, hands grabbing at your hips. he holds you still, making you take his cock. "running from me like you're not mine, like you're not mine to fuck. like your cunt isn't mine, princess, like you're warm little pussy isn't mine to fuck and breed and your body isn't mine."

and seungcheol fucks you like you're his. fucks you like you're his and nobody else's, like he owns you, owns you just to fuck you.

you could nearly cum like that.

but he doesn't let you.

because choi seungcheol looks like a cute, doting boyfriend. but underneath underneath that he's a mean, greedy wolf that wants.

seungcheol draws out of you, the slide of his dick making your toes curl. he manipulates you again, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting. he uses his strength to bring snap his dick into your pussy over and over, relentless in his search.

"fucking princess," he growls. and then his fingers are back to your cunt, sliding against your wet pussy and finding your clit. he matches his pace with how he rubs at your clit, and soon enough he's bringing an orgasm that comes crashing through your body.

he doesn't stop there of course. seungcheol continues fucking you. he rams into your pussy, shoving his fat dick into your warm pussy.

"mine," he says, voice low in the back of his throat. seungcheol ducks his head, pushing you back to the ground and covering your body with his. you can see his canines, long and white, glinting; can see the ring of golden that had begun to grow around his pupils.

"yours," you agree.

you quickly become oversensitive. each thrust in and out has you whining, has you wiggling in his grasp. seungcheol doesn't care. you don't protest and so he continues, fucking into you.

you orgasm again. seungcheol grins, teeth sharp. "that's it," he says. "milk my cock, pretty girl."

he's moving you again. you're light underneath his hands, his strength allowing him to move you however. he's moving you back onto your front, one arm looping around your middle to keep your ass pressed against him and his cock sheathed deep in your pussy.

but it's not satisfying. not to him.

and so he moves again. he pushes you, his hand between the blades of your back and keeping you still. each slap of his hips against you leaves a sting, but it's so delicious you can't, and don't want to, do anything other than take it.

in this new position he seems to find what he was searching for. seungcheol growls, something that sounds more animal than human. he rams into you, cock striking your core with each thrust, harsh and strong and rough.

you know you're making loud, obnoxious whines. but you can't stop. not when he's fucking you like he wants to breed you, when he's fucking you like this.

"fuckin' running from me," he hisses, "running like you're not mine. i've got you, princess. fucking got you."

when seungcheol cums he's filling you to the brim. he's painting the inside of you white with his spunk, marking you. when he pulls out he's still hard, and he takes himself in hand. seungcheol fucks into his fist as he looks at you, eyes roaming over your body as you lay against the forest floor.

when he spills again it's on your bare ass, marking you on the outside. you don't think he'll ever stop cumming. eventually, however, he does.

seungcheol drapes himself over you, ignoring the mess. he pants into your ear, arms wrapping around your body and holding you.

you don't know how long the two of you lay on the ground. the front of your body, the part pressed against the dirt, is cold. everywhere seungcheol touches is warm, and when he finally goes to pull away you whine, not wanting to loose his touch.

in the end seungcheol carries you back to the car. he holds you like you weigh nothing. you can see the gold begin to eclipse the brown of his eyes, and when he speaks its in a rasp.

he tucks you into the car, pulling the blankets around your body. seungcheol presses kisses to your face, lingering, not wanting to leave.

when he finally does move from you he's at the edge of transformation. he can barely speak, sweat beginning to dot his hairline.

but seungcheol darts forward for one more kiss despite this, clingy and wanting. because despite the werewolf exterior, despite the fact that he is, by all appearances he is a monster, seungcheol, under his skin, yours.

#svthub #svthub.collab #— jupiter writes #svt smut #seventeen smut #s.coups smut #scoups smut #svt fic #seventeen fic #kpop smut #kpop fic #choi seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol fic #svt #seventeen #scoups #s.coups #choi seungcheol

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duhnova · 7 months

Text

Dancing Queen | Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint but its almost nonexistent

Synopsis: the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in America, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in Paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

Warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!!), mentions of food and alcohol, joke about marriage, ambiguous sexuality, talks on sexuality and swinging any which way, cat calling, talks of sexism and a little power imbalance, mentions of religion and leaving the church, mentions of immigration, implications of a future threesome, cheol has a sir & daddy kink (big surprise), spanking, bruises (cheol has a bit of a heavy hand and thrust), office sex, a bit of praising (both ways), lowkey breeding kink (are we surprised?), i feel like the sex was a bit tame in this but please let me know if i forgot anything else! - don't mind grammatical errors and typos, i tried!

A/N: biggest shout out to @onlyseokmins & @the-boy-meets-evil for proof reading for me and offering feedback/opinions, and for also putting up with my late night bullshit these last few nights of constantly putting off finishing this - jess really saw my turmoil with this one and BLESS her heart for not telling me to go fuck myself after id message her late saying i either finished a section or i didn't end up writing like i wanted too (and then id send her an idea right after for her to read in the morning). anyways i spent the last few months struggling with this fic and i hope ya'll like it and if you don't... keep it to yourself <3

70s;teen collab masterlist | my svt masterlist

Paris was beautiful, the long voyage was more and more worth it the longer you spent in the city that bustled and thrived. America was nothing compared to France, the countrysides and the cities alike felt like they were straight out of a book.

Life was starting to finally look up for you, even if you weren't fully able to escape the turmoils you faced in America, you were given more opportunities in the so-called city of love. Cars driven by men still honked at you and women with their children glared and covered their kin's eyes as you walked down the street, your cleavage and shoulders on display and your skirt far above the knees.

Despite the business of the city during the day, there were plenty of shops downtown that didn’t open up until nightfall. One in particular, Club Kidult, was said to be the best nightclub in all of the country. It’s owned by a man from Korea who is a wildcard, with a knack for “adopting” foreigners - or so you’ve been told.

“Can’t you read? We’re closed right now.” A man glares at you after knocking on the front door of Club Kidult.

“Is the owner here?” You brushed the strange man’s hostility off. His glare turned to curiosity as he finally eyed you up and down in a manner that wasn’t unfamiliar.

“Why? Does he owe you money, doll?” The man moves to fully stand in the doorframe, letting you get a nice view of the inside of the shop behind his tall stature.

“No…” You huff quietly at the insinuation before giving him your sweetest smile, knowing exactly how to play with a man. “I wanted to see if I could perform here tonight.”

“You a dancer?”

“I can be if you want.” You couldn’t help the flirty tone, the man was attractive and so far he hasn’t treated you like an object. “But I mainly sing.”

“A singer?” He hums quietly, his grin showing off his sharp teeth. “We don’t get many of those around here, most women want to dance on our stage.”

“I could imagine,” You cross your arms, pushing your boobs up slightly. “So… Is he in?” The man hums quietly.

“Ah, no.” He was very blunt with his answer before he looked back over his shoulder to look at the empty building. “But…”

“But?”

“He might kill me for this but,” he looks back at you. “I’ll let you wait for him. He likes to stop by and make sure everything is ready for the night before he goes to get dolled up.”

“Well I don’t want to get you in trouble now.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get me in a lot of trouble, doll,” He gives you a wink before he’s moving out of the way to welcome you into the club. “Too bad I’m not scared of Cheol.”

“Cheol?” You question as you hesitantly walk into the establishment. Despite it being closed still, there was music playing and you could hear a lot of voices coming from somewhere in the back - easing your nerves of possibly being alone with this stranger.

“Choi Seungcheol is the name of the owner, but don't call him that or he might bite your head off.”

“So what do I call him then?”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, but you can address him as sir, I guess.” The man shrugs. “I’m Mingyu by the way, head of security at this joint.”

“So head of security, do you just let all the people that come knocking on the door looking for your boss in?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirks as he walks around the bar. “Our bartenders don’t show up for another hour but I can whip you up somethin' simple if you like.” He leans against the counter as he watches you take a seat at one of the bar stools.

“Whiskey please.”

“Just whiskey?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows as you nod your head. You never felt comfortable in bars back home, the majority of them filled with only men and so the list of mixed drinks intimidated you. The only thing you were comfortable with was bourbon and whiskey as your father always had them in stock in his cabinet. “I like you.” Mingyu grins as he pulls the most expensive bottle of whiskey off the shelfs to pour over ice for you.

“I’m wonderin'…” You mumble as you pull the glass towards you after Mingyu set it down on a napkin for you.

“About?” The tall male leans against the counter top.

“Is it true?” You take a sip of your whiskey and before you can reiterate what you mean, Mingyu beats you to it.

“If the rumors are true?” He shrugs at your scoff. “Most of us workin' aren’t from here… Couple of the girls are from across the pond like yourself.”

“They're American?”

“Well… A little more south. Brazil I think.”

“Are they dancers?” You take another sip of your drink. “I’m assuming that’s what Mr. Choi likes.”

“A few are but one of them is our head chef.” Mingyu hums quietly. “And dancers aren’t Cheols favorite, they're mine.” You laugh quietly at his wolfish grin.

“Well what does Mr. Choi like?”

“Well he doesn’t like to be called Mr. Choi, that’s for sure.” He pushes off the counter just as the door to the club opens. “And he likes singers!” He’s quick to rush out as he speed walks around the bar to stand in front of you a little.

“Wha-” You stop midway through your word as you spin in your chair to see a man dead staring in your direction.

“Cheol!”

“Mingyu…” His voice was low and dangerous as he tried to scope you out from behind the tall wall of a man.

“Hiya boss… Look.”

“What have I told you about bringin' strays in while I’m not here.”

“C’mon man look at her, she’s smokin'!” He whips around to quickly apologize before he’s turning back towards the man you presumed was Choi Seungcheol. “She wants to sing here.” He doesn’t give anyone a chance to breathe as he steps to the side to give Seungcheol the full view of you. He falters for just a millisecond as his eyes scan you from head to toe before he’s turning to Mingyu.

“Next time ya bring someone in here without me knowin', I’m cuttin' your pay.”

“Noted.” Mingyu nods quickly.

“Come with me upstairs.” He doesn’t give you a second glance before he’s walking towards a set of stairs that are blocked off that lead up to the upper level where his office sits.

“So, ya wanna work here?’ Seungcheol wasted no time as he offered the seat in front of his desk for you to sit in. His accent a little different from his friend downstairs and you figured it had to do with the duration of time each had spent in the country.

“Yes,” you take the seat with a small nod of thanks. “I wanna sing on your stage.” The look Seungcheol gave you as he sat back in his office chair, the slight glare of his eyes as they raked your body, caused shivers to run up your spine.

“A singer?” He mumbles behind the hand that rested over his mouth as he propped his elbow on the arm of his chair.

“Yes. I used to sing in New York an-”

“New York? You're American?”

“I... yes,” you mumble. “Is that a problem?”

“No... Not one bit.” He sat up straighter, fixing his coat as he eyed you up again. “My whole staff is foreign, as are my performers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“My reputation carries, I see.” He smirks.

“So... Will you let me sing here?” You lean forward a little, letting your chest pop out a little, hopefully his eyes will linger long enough for him to fold.

“I’ll need to hear you first before I let you on my stage.” His eyes don’t waver from your face, he knew the game you were trying to play - it’s one he’s played plenty of times to get where he was.

“Oh...” You huff quietly before sitting back in your chair.

“Don’t sound so disappointed darlin’, I didn’t say no.” He has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning at the way your demeanor changed in seconds. “We’re closed on Sundays, come back then and show me what you got and I’ll decide if I have room for you or not.”

“Sunday?”

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve got plans already.” He watched the way you messed with a beat up rosary sticking out of your pocket.

“I didn’t take you for someone that got on their knees for men that were higher than them.”

“Only the rich ones.” You smile back. “But no, I don’t go to church anymore. I just have a date with the eiffel tower.”

“I see, sorry I assumed because I saw the rosary. I’ve only known church goers to carry them.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago, it just used to be my grandma's, it’s kind of like my good luck charm now.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago too.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up in curiosity.

“Times are changing, life’s too short to not love who and what you wanna love.”

“So you swing one way… two ways?...” Your voice trailed off as you tried to guess his preference.

“I swing anyway you want me to, darlin’.” He leans over his desk and rests his chin on the back of his interlocked hands so he can give you a cheeky grin. “We can even invite the idiot downstairs that let you in if that floats your boat…” Your legs squeeze closed at the idea and his eyes can’t help but wander this time. “And I’m sure it does.”

“So Sunday?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in your throat at the way Seungcheol's eyes looked back up at you through his lashes.

“Sunday, nine in the morning. Can you do that?” You nod quickly.

“Yes!” You clear your throat as your voice cracked from the change in volume. “Yes, I can do that.” He laughs a little at your contained excitement as he sits back in his chair again.

“Good, don’t be late. I expect you to be here the second the clock hits nine and if you’re not… My doors won’t open.”

“Got it... Sir.” You smile sweetly at him, his adam’s apple bobbing a little as he scoffs quietly.

“Good… Girl. Now go, suns goin down and we open soon.”

“Right. Well, I’ll see you on Sunday.” You stand up and straighten your shorts before you give him a curt nod and scurry to the door. Just as you open it you turn your head back and give him the cutest smile you could muster. “Thank you, Sir.”

Before you could get any kind of response from him you close his office door quickly and rush down the stairs, cheering quietly to yourself. You were going to spend the rest of the week anticipating this little “audition.”

“I take it he’s lettin' you in?” Mingyu was leaning against the bar top, a shaggy brown haired male working behind him, cleaning glasses.

“Well, not exactly.”

“What?” The unknown male stopped what he was doing to look at you wide eyed. “You’re the finest girl to walk through those doors and ask to work here and he just turned you down?”

“Chan…” Mingyu's voice was laced with warning.

“Sorry…” He mumbles to you before he goes back to cleaning his cups.

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” You shrug with a smile. “But he didn’t turn me down, he just said I have to show him what I got first before I can sing on his stage.”

“First, ya shouldn’t be used to men treatin' you like that, this world is disgusting.” Mingyu pushes off the counter so he can walk you to the door. “And second, Cheol has never allowed just any singers to sing here. You have - ”

“I have to be good, I know.” You smile up at him and pat his arm that was firm under your touch and it took everything in you to not do it again just to feel the muscles that laid under his shirt.

“Piece of advice...” He mumbles to you as he opens the club’s doors for you. “He likes upbeat songs, things that are funky and out there.”

“Has he heard of Abba?”

“Honey... I don’t know who that is.”

“So I know what to play then.” You both mirrored the same grin as you stepped out into the dimming light.

“Will you be okay walkin' home?” You nod your head as you turn to walk backwards to watch Mingyu watch you walk while he leans against the doorframe.

“I live close enough to see your neon lights shine!” You call out over the loud roaring of a car passing by. “I’ll be fine!”

“You better be! I wanna see you perform!” He yells back, waving at you as you wave and turn to start to run down the sidewalk in joy. You laugh to yourself, twirling and jumping over the curbs - your dream was one step closer to coming true.

Sunday couldn’t come any quicker as you spent everyday exploring Paris just to sit at your window and watch the crowd in front of Club Kidult every night. To think that that many people could be lining up next week to hear you sing - if all goes well - when you meet Seungcheol again.

When you woke up to the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you groaned in frustration. Your little alarm was set to go off in forty more minutes but the excitement of what was going to happen in a couple hours had you jumping up to take a long hot shower.

You let your hair air dry for a little bit before you set it up in curlers so you could finish off drying them with the fancy new hair dryer you splurged on when you moved here. You could never afford these types of luxuries back home, the prices being drastic.

You hummed the tune of the song you were going to be performing quietly as you danced around your room getting clothes out so you could change while your hairs cooled off in the curlers - hopefully making your curls last longer.

“I can’t believe today is the day,” you mumble as you buttoned up your high waisted pants that flared a little at the bottom. Tucking your shirt in a little, you make your way to your front door where all your shoes sat waiting for you to choose from.

You go back to humming your song as you slip your shoes on, fixing the straps on them before standing up straight to check your makeup in the mirror by your door. You yelp quietly at the sight of your curlers still in before you are carefully rushing to take them down.

“Can’t believe I almost walked out the house lookin' like a clown.” You laugh quietly at yourself as you go back to your bathroom to hairspray your hair, mumbling that you’ll clean your apartment floors later tonight as you trudged your outdoor shoes through your living room.

Once you were out the door, you all but skipped down the hall, taking the steps two at a time as you happily jumped down them so you could make it to the club on time - early even, which you hoped made a good first impression on the owner.

“You’re early.” Mingyu chirps from behind you as you make your way up to the front doors of the club.

“Jesus!” You yelp in surprise.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He walks past you to unlock one of the doors. “Cheol ain’t here yet, it’s barely eight.”

“Guess I’m earlier than I thought.” You laugh nervously.

“He’ll like that. Most of us barely run on time.”

“You’re here early too, though.”

“Actually, between me and you I’ve been here since seven.” He laughs quietly as he hangs his coat over one of the bar chairs. “We have a delivery comin soon and I was supposed to be here waitin' and cleanin'.”

“Well your secret is safe with me.” You smile at him as you watch the way he messes with the clock on some machine on the wall before he’s putting a card through it. “Don’t forget to set that clock back.”

You watch Mingyu almost break his back as he jerks back around to make sure the punch machine clock reads the same time as the clock on the wall before he’s putting the glass cover back on it.

“Thank you, darlin'’” He gives you a grin full of teeth.

“No problem, handsome.” You giggle at the way he puffs his chest out a little at the comment. “If you need any help I obviously have some free time.”

“Just sit there and look cute while I restock the bar to make room for new inventory in the back.” He winks at you. “Wouldn’t want you gettin' hurt before you're supposed to perform for me and the big boss.”

“Lookin' pretty is no fun.” You huff as you sit at the bar just as the club door swings open to let in a bunch of natural light.

“You must never have fun then.” Seungcheol doesn’t waste a beat as he locks the club door before shrugging his coat off and making his way to the staircase.

“I have plenty of fun, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and watch the way his pants accentuate his ass.

“Do you now?” He stops in front of his office door to look back at you. “Hard to believe for a pretty face like yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Doll… I’d be dumb to not think it.” You can’t help the little happy wiggle you do as Seungcheol turns back around to walk into his office.

The bar doesn’t stay quiet for long as Mingyu hauls a bunch of boxes from the backrooms that are filled with supplies.

“We had a busy week.” He drops the last box on the counter in front of you. “Had to call in this month’s shipment early.”

Your eyebrows rose in curiosity as you peek into the box to view its contents. Packs of little drink umbrellas filled half the box, and with even more curiosity, you pull one of them out.

“You mind pullin' those all out for me?” Mingyu sets an almost empty container on the counter next to the box that had a couple little umbrellas left. “Just put 'em in there and Chan will unwrap them later.”

A nice silence fell between the two of you as he replaced missing alcohol bottles on the shelves and put more cups under the counter. Mingyu even gave you a box full of straws and told you to wash your hands so you could fill all the straw dispensers with what was left in the box.

“Are you makin' her work before she’s even hired, Gyu?” Seungcheol walks down the stairs to smile at the sight of you stocking straws and Mingyu stacking more receipt books under the register.

“Hey, she wanted to help.” Mingyu shrugs as he goes about his business unbothered.

“It’s fun stocking things.” You shrug in a similar manner as Mingyu without even looking up from the dispenser you're trying to symmetrically stuff straws into.

“You two are strange.” He shakes his head before sitting at the bar to admire the way you floated behind the counter, moving around Mingyu's clumsy figure like he didn’t even exist.

“Strange how?” Mingyu scoffs as he finishes his task before turning to stuff the last straw dispenser despite your whining that you were just about to do that one. “There was time to kill before her performance.”

“There was only time to kill cause someone here is an early bird.” He smiles at the way you cross your arms. “Which is nice… It’s refreshing to see someone here before me.”

“Hey, I was here before you.” Mingyu butts in.

“It’s a miracle.” Seungcheol raises his eyebrow at the tall male in a manner that challenged him to keep arguing.

“Fuck face.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath in a playful manner before he starts gathering all the empty boxes to break down and toss out.

“So.” Once Mingyu took all the trash to the backrooms Seungcheol put all his attention back on you. “Any reason why your early?”

“Gonna complain already?” You lean against the counter so you were closer to his vicinity. Mimicking you, Seungcheol leans forward too – you're so close your breath mingles together.

“Who said I was complainin'?”

“Well you don’t seem too happy I’m here.”

“Oh darlin’, I’m over the moon.” He smirks at the way you bite your lip, your red lipstick unwavering.

“Maybe I just wanted some alone time with your little guard back there without any distractions, like you.” You hum playfully.

“Ouch, you’re hurtin' me doll.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Aw.” You fake pout before you're grinning. “You could hurt me.”

“The only thing I’d hurt on you, doll, are your hips.”

“Is that a promise?” You lean over the counter, a little more in excitement. Flirting came naturally to you, it was a great way to get what you wanted but you’ve never felt more genuinely attracted to someone like you are to Seungcheol. Before he could respond, Mingyu comes sauntering through the backdoors with his arms full of cleaning supplies.

‘Great timing, Gyu” Seungcheol pulled away at the same time as you jumped back from leaning on the counter.

“Sorry,” He looked at you, then his boss before he was dropping the supplies on the counter. “Did I interrupt somethin'?” Neither of you answered, which was enough of an answer for Mingyu as he starts to clean the bar, mumbling another apology to you as you scurried from behind the counter to stand a little awkwardly off to the side of where Seungcheol was sitting.

“It’s almost time for you to sing for us, need me to set anything up for you?” You shake your head no, you were more than familiar with the systems that were used in clubs like this. “Everything you’ll need is either behind the stage or off to the side, yell if you need me.”

While you were turning the system and speakers on, you realized you forgot your vinyl record that had the song on it at home. Cursing quietly under your breath you pray that they somehow have the record as you start to flip through the hundreds of vinyl records they had in the back.

“How the hell are you not gonna have Abba in here?” You whine quietly as you made your way through the last couple of vinyls. “Mr. Choi!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you from behind the stage. You could hear what sounded like the chair hitting the counter (or floor) and Mingyu cursing as Seungcheol’s quick footsteps approach from behind you.

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry.

“I forgot my record at home and you don’t have it here for me to use in the background.” You huff quietly, a small pout on your lips.

“Aw darlin'; you gave me a heart attack, I thought you hurt yourself.” Seungcheol sighs in relief. “Just sing without it, wow us even more without the sound.”

“I haven’t performed for people without the music before.” You mumble, a little self conscious of your raw voice.

“It’ll just be me and Gyu, you got nothin' to worry about.” He reassures you with a smile. “I’m gonna sit down, come out when you’re ready.”

When Seungncheol went back out to the front room, you started to pace back and forth. You focused on the melody of the song in your head – you’ve sang this song a million times, both with and without the track, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

After a couple minutes pass by, you finally take a deep breath and push your nerves down. Without much of a second thought, you walked out onto the stage and up to the mic that was already setup. Seungcheol was sitting at the bar with a glass of what looked like orange juice while Mingyu leaned against the counter to watch you intensely.

“This song is supposed to be upbea.t so it might not sound as good without the music but,” you took a deep breath. “I’ll be singing Dancing Queen by Abba for you.”

“You’ve got this!” Mingyu cheered quietly as he smiled encouragingly, while Seungcheol offered a soft smile that calmed you down instantly.

You did a count in your head before you closed your eyes so you could feel the song deeper before you started to sing. Even without the music playing, you managed to stay on beat almost perfectly and as far as either male knew, the way you were singing the song was exactly how the song was supposed to sound.

“That was…” Mingyu broke the silence right after you had finished singing before he started to clap and cheer loudly for you. “You’re amazing!” He flicks Seungcheol’s ear to snap him out of whatever trance he was in to give you his thoughts.

“I told you you didn’t need the music playing.”

“Wow you start off with ‘I told you so,’.” Mingyu mocks him playfully which earned him a rather harsh smack and a giggle from you.

“Well I’m glad you both liked it since I was up here shakin' like a leaf in the wind.”

“Couldn’t even tell.” Mingyu calls after you as you go to shut the system off before joining the two in the front room again.

“I don’t know what I was expectin' when you said you were a singer.” Seungcheol watches you take a seat.

“Yeah he’s picky with his women, I mean singers.” Mingyu quickly excuses himself when Seungcheol glares at him hard.

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” He sighs quietly.

“It’s ok, I’m picky with my men.” You shrug and smile playfully at Seungcheol as you hop up onto the bar stool that was one away from where he was sitting.

“Do you wanna sing here Friday nights?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just to start off with, if the people like you I’ll book you for more nights.” He takes a sip of his juice to hide his smile as he watches you practically jump in your seat out of excitement.

“I’d love to!” You bite your tongue to keep from squealing too loud. “I’ll remember my record this time.”

“You’ll have to show it to me so I can buy it for here.” You nod your head quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” You smile brightly again, your excitement hard to contain. “Thank you so so much.”

“Of course, don’t disappoint me now, okay?” His voice was playful.

“Never.” You sounded one hundred percent serious.

“Good girl.” He mumbles under his breath before he’s taking another sip of his juice.

“I should get going now, I still have that date with the eiffel tower and a cafe to get breakfast.”

“Right.” He stands up from his chair so he can walk you out. “The view from the tower is beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“You hear a lot of things don’t you, doll?”

“Only good things I fear.” You give him a cheeky smile as you sigh quietly at the feeling of the warm sun hitting your face as you step outside.

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Maybe sooner if you’re lucky.” You can’t will yourself to step away yet.

“Well I hope I’m lucky then.” He leans against the doorframe, unable to move himself.

“We’ll see if you are.” A car horn in the distance finally broke you from whatever was keeping you glued there as you stepped backwards down the sidewalk like you did when saying bye to Mingyu the first day you were at the club. “Bye Mr. Choi, See you soon!”

“I hope.” He mumbles to himself as he waves back at you, yelling to be careful as you almost run into a lamp post.

“Bye Darlin’!” Mingyu pushes Seungcheol out the way so he can yell down the road before you were too far out of earshot.

“Bye Mingyu!” You turn back around to yell. “By the way, my name is Y/N!” Your laugh could be heard even from that distance as you make your way towards the Eiffel tower, flipping off a man who cat-called you from his car.

For some reason you found it hard to sleep, the birds were extra loud outside your window and the sun had barely breeched the horizon. Groaning for the umpteenth time that morning, you sit up abruptly, your hair a wild mess from all the tossing and turning you’ve been doing.

“This is stupid.” You mumble before tossing your blankets off your body so you could go to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it’ll wake you up more.

The market down the street was going to open soon and you were in desperate need of more milk and coffee for your apartment. So when you got out of your shower you didn’t waste too much time in doing your hair, choosing to put it up in a messy ponytail with a red ribbon you recycled from an old christmas present. You didn’t bother with makeup before walking out of the house in a skirt that you cut to sit in the middle of your thighs along with a tank top.

Strolling down the street slowly, you reminisced a little with what’s happened the last couple of weeks, from you leaving New York and being stuck on a ship for weeks only to land in France where your dreams came true quicker then they ever would in America, the so called place where dreams come true. In the middle of your thoughts, an obnoxious whistle broke you from your trance and an even more obnoxious voice followed.

“Hi there, sweets.” The thick French -ccented English was slurred by alcohol and you weren’t surprised as you gave him the fakest and sweetest smile you could muster.

“Don’t fall on your way home.” You wiggled your fingers as you waved him goodbye. Sometimes it was better to hold your tongue and be nice, especially in a foreign setting that you weren’t too familiar with.

Luckily that was the only thing you had to deal with before making it to your destination. The market was just barely opened, the cashiers and a couple other customers joined you in the rather spacious store for it being so close to downtown.

“Well hey there, darlin'.’” The grin in the voice made you know instantly who it was.

“Hi Mingyu.” You put a jar of strawberry preserves into your little wicker basket that you brought with you as a bag.

“How’dja know it was me?” You looked up at the six-foot-something male with a raised eyebrow.

“Kiddin' me? I could hear the shameless grin in your voice from a mile away.”

“Touched you can recognize me without even lookin', I must be that good lookin'.”

“Hardly.” You grin playfully as you move on to look at the selection of bread they had on display today.

“Ouch, you hurt me darlin’.” He whines and it reminds you of Seungcheol, and a chill ran up your spine at the mere thought of said male.

“What brings you to the store so early? Thought you weren’t a mornin' person.” You put a loaf of sourdough bread in your basket and look back to see Mingyu's brown mop of hair peeking over the top of the shelf as he moved to the aisle over. Either he’s tall as fuck or the shelves are short, both could be true.

“Cheol’s been cooped up in his office all mornin stressin', an' being his right hand, it’s my job to stress with him I guess.” He sighs quietly but you still heard it as you moved further away from him to grab some bagels.

“Stressed?”

“Yeah, immigration is on his ass 'bout papers for all the workers, himself included, so he’s tryin to get his shit straight before someone gets in trouble.” Mingyu pops up next to you to grab himself some bagels. “So bring your papers with you on Friday, darlin’.”

“I will.” You hum quietly before looking down at the weird assortment of things in his store basket. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Whatever Cheol is in the mood for later, I love cookin' and it helps him get the stick out his ass.” He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerated section.

“You cook?”

“And clean so if yer lookin’ for a husband I’m takin' applications.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “But only for you, darlin’.”

“In your dreams lover boy.”

“I could always dream ‘bout you.” He laughs quietly when you scoff. “Guessin' I’m not your type?” All you can do is shrug.

“Don’t gotta type.”

“Oh?”

“All they gotta be able to do is make me orgasm I guess.”

“Scandalous.” He checks through a couple packs of eggs before finding one he’s content with. “You and Cheol are similar in that way - as long as they’re kind he doesn’t care much who or what they are.”

“Do you care?”

“All I care is that they like my cookin’.” You knew you had found your people as you continue to shop with Mingyu trailing behind, picking up items he wasn’t even planning on until he saw you shopping in the section.

“Are you going back to the club now?” You walk out the store after you argued with Mingyu over him paying for your groceries, him arguing that it was a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift.

“Only to drop this stuff off.” He holds up his bag of groceries. “Then I gotta go pick up Cheol’s suit from the tailor and pick up some more food that I can’t get at a regular market.”’

“Imports?”

“Fresh fish straight from the ports of Japan and I’m picking up an order I had put in a while back for fresh Gochugaru.”

“Chili flakes?” You looked at him curiously.

“Yeah... You know Korean?”

“A little, my neighbor was a little old Korean lady and her kids moved across country and didn’t visit anymore, so I’d hang out with her often and she’d teach me Korean.”

“Cute,” Mingyu smiles gently, a huge contrast from the grin he always had. “Me and Cheol were forced to learn English when we had moved here because it was either that or French and one was significantly easier than the other for us.”

“You speak really well.”

“Thank you, I try.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he puffed his chest out.

A comforting silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk down the street in the general direction of where you lived. Reaching a certain intersection you two stop - one way led you the rest of the way to your apartment and the other way led in the direction of the club.

“Need me to walk you the rest of the way home?”

“I got it from here Gyu.” You start to walk again in the direction of home, leaving Mingyu to stand there on his own.

“Gyu...” He smiled happily at you using his nickname. “Be safe! And I’ll be out of the club for at least an hour if you wanted to go visit the stress ball in his office, he could use the distraction!”

“I’ll consider gracing him!” You call back over your shoulder before waving goodbye to the golden retriever of a man who all but scurried across the street, narrowly missing a car who he quickly cursed at loud enough for you to hear him from down the road.

It didn’t take you long to get all your groceries put away, the thought of going to see Seungcheol had you moving on auto pilot. Taking a second to freshen up your appearance, you make sure your hair isn’t frizzy before you make your way out of your apartment to walk to the club.

The streets were unnaturally quiet as you walked in the direction that has become all too familiar to you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Finally seeing the doors come into view, you realize that Mingyu said he was going to be out, so you had no idea on how you were going to get in.

“Oh!” Mingyu jumps a little as he opens the door to leave to see you standing there with a look of contemplation on your face. “You came darlin’. ”

“I hope I will be later,” The look of confused curiosity Mingyu gave you made you shake your head with a fond smile, opting to not explain your innuendo. “You said I’d be a good distraction for Mr. Choi so of course I came.”

“Well he’s up in his office, like he has been for hours.” Mingyu sighs quietly as he looks up at Seungcheol’s office in worry before he’s turning to give you a smile. “Like I said, I’ll be out for a couple hours so whole place is to yourselves.”

“Thank you.” You wave him goodbye, wishing him to be safe.

“Mr. Choi?” You mumble quietly as you knock on his door. It takes a long few seconds for you to get any acknowledgement that he heard you. “I’m comin’ in.” You didn’t give him the option to let you in or not as you open the door slowly to see tired eyes framed by fluffy and tousled hair looking at you.

“Whatcha doin’ here, honey?” The new nickname sent butterflies a flight in your tummy as you close the door behind you and make your way to stand in front of his desk.

“Gyu said you were stressin’,” you mumble as you look at all the paperwork spread across his desk. “Maybe you need a break from all this.”

“I can’t just ignore this all…” He sighs quietly as he runs his hand through his hair for what looks like the millionth time that morning.

“I’m not saying to forget ‘bout it, just saying you need to relax.” You start to gently and carefully stack the papers into a neat pile before setting it on the corner of his desk. Seungcheol just watches your hands move, even as you slowly move around his desk to stand behind him. “Let me help you, Mr. Choi.”

You hum quietly as you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently pull him to sit back in his chair. Sighing again, Seungcheol lets you do whatever you want as you start to massage at his shoulders - something you picked up from the men that you’d visit that worked on Wall Street.

“That feels nice.” He mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into the back of his chair more.

“Yeah?” You mumble with a smile, a little sultry tone to your voice as you knead a little harder, the knot under your fingertips melting away. Seungcheol groans, satisfied at the tension leaving his body as he curses quietly in Korean causing you to giggle quietly. The words were familiar, your old neighbor having said them a time or two but in an angrier tone.

“What’s so funny doll?” He opens his mouth, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he looked up at you.

“Nothin’ Mr. Choi.” You move your thumbs to rub as the back of his neck, gentler than you treated his shoulders.

“Y’know, if you keep callin' me Mr. Choi, I might just have to marry you.” He grins a little at the way you squeak in shock.

“You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and yer already proposin’?” You watch as Seungcheol sits up straight and rolls his head and shoulders, sighing in content at the relief he feels.

“My mother calls my father Mr. Choi, they’ve been married forty years now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore about the marriage thing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at you.

“What?” You look down at your outfit to see if there was anything he was staring at as a minute of silence passed by with him just looking at you.

“You should be on the cover of Vogue instead of in some place like this.” His fingers twitch on his lap as he finally lets his eyes wander farther than your face, but not for long as he’s looking back up into your eyes. Something about the way he held eye contact had your knees feeling weak. He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat but rather that you were the finest chocolates from À la Mère de Famille.

“I’m not a model sir.” You shrug as you begin to feel shy, something you haven’t felt around a man in a long time. “Besides, I like it here. The workers are hot and the atmosphere is calmin’.”

“The workers?” He raises his eyebrow in a pouting manner. “What ‘bout the owner?”

“Oh, he’s more than hot but you didn’t hear that from me.” You wink, giggling quietly at the way his pout turns to a smirk.

“Is that so? 'Nother rumor, I suppose.”

“Starting to think it’s not a rumor.” You hum quietly, rocking on your heels a little.

“Are there any other rumors you wanna prove to be true, darlin’?” He leans back in his chair and manspreads as he props his chin on his hand that’s resting on the armrest.

“Mm, not rumors per say.” You take an experimental step forward. “More of personal speculation.”

“Speculation?” He watches you like a hawk, his eyes darkening the closer you get.

“Can I touch you?” You whisper when you finally stand between his open knees.

“Fuck…” He groans quietly at the idea. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.” He nods his head, giving you approval to touch him.

Seungcheols adam’s apple bobs a little as he swallows, your fingers lighting a fire under his skin everywhere they ghost. You trailed your fingers up his knees and over his thighs before your palms begin to lay flat against his stomach. When you dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt, Seungcheol flexed, the feeling of you tugging on it gently causes his resolve to crumble.

“Can I touch you?” It’s his turn to ask as his hands moved to grip at his armrests tightly.

“‘Course sir,” you whisper as you lean in closer, the scent of your soap filling his senses as his hands move to grab the back of your thighs so he can yank you to sit in his lap in one solid movement.

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbles as his hands travel up your back so he can pull you closer to his body.

“Don’t want you to stop.” You mumble as you lean closer to him, your hands leaving his stomach so you can drape your arms over his shoulders.

“Tell me when then.” He lets you lean in first to kiss and once your lips are on his, he’s spinning his chair around so he can press you against the edge of his desk. Smiling into the kiss you begin to rock and roll your hips in a way that has him hissing and groaning as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You got the hips of a dancer.” He groans at how expertly you moved your lower body against his as he kisses down your cheek and to your neck, something no one has really done before. The time he took kissing and mapping out every inch of your neck until he found your sweet spot had you whining.

“Told Gyu I was one,” You moan for the first time and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not slam you down on his desk to hear more of your pretty sounds. “Could show you what I got.”

“'Nother day.” He groans as he nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before pulling away to look you in the eyes. Again the eye contact had your stomach flipping as you swallow the moan in your throat. “God…” He groans, his eyes closing as his hands on your back grip your shirt tightly.

“Am I a god now baby?”

“I’ll fuckin' worship you like one.” He growls when you push your hips down harder, the desire growing in every inch of your body as you bite your lip and watch him through hooded eyes.

“Mmm~” You lean your head back and close your eyes in pleasure when Seungcheol finally grips your hips and grinds up into you. “Fuck daddy.” The name slips off your tongue like the old habit it was, men in America would fall to their knees when the word left your plush lips.

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol hoists you up to lay you flat on top of his desk so he can stand between your legs. His pupils were completely blown now, but you were sure yours were too as your thighs squeeze around his hips and he loosens the tie he had on and unbuttons the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk outta here, darlin’.”

“You did say you could bruise my hips daddy, hope you weren’t lyin’.” He haphazardly rolls his sleeves up past his elbows before he’s diving down to kiss you again, this time a lot harsher than the first.

Moaning into his mouth, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair and tug it when he nips your tongue. All he does is smirk into the kiss and without letting up for much air ,he makes work on undoing his pants in the little room that’s between your bodies.

You tug his hair hard enough for him to pull away, his eyes half open as he groans at the delicious sting on his scalp. When you let go of his dark locks he stands up straight again so he can push his dress pants down his thighs and make work on tugging your panties off from under the skirt you had on.

“Tell me where you want me to finish.” He mumbles as he lets his hands travel up your thighs to slowly push your skirt up until it was resting on your stomach. His eyes stared you down like you were an art piece in the Louvre as his hands continued up your body till they were squeezing your boobs through the tanktop you were wearing.

“Inside.” You could see his cock twitch behind his boxer briefs as his eyes snap up to look at you.

“You sure darlin’? What ‘bout a kid?” He didn’t seem too nervous about having a kid with you but he was nervous that you might regret it.

“I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?”

“Yeah, it’s what some of the girls back home would call their birth control.” Your hands reach out to grab the ends of Sungcheol’s dress shirt to try and tug him towards you again, the cold air hitting your exposed pussy making the desire grow even more in you. “Not too sure ‘bout it yet though, haven't had unprotected sex since startin' it but I guess we’ll see if ya knock me up tonight.”

Seungcheol just smirks at your words and he opens his mouth to make some cheeky little comment but you sit up enough to grab his hair and yank him down to kiss him - shutting him up effectively and kickstarting his gears again as he pushes his hips against yours. The heat of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch more as he groans into the kiss that’s turned a little sloppy but that's just the way you like it as you grind your hips up against his, urging him to finally fuck you.

“You’re so warm.” He almost whines when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe as he pushes his boxers down enough for his cock to smack up against his stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight and your core pulses at the thought of being filled up more than you’ve ever been.

“'Nd your big.” You breathe out as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, letting it nudge against your clit a couple times as he gets all nice and coated in your juices before he’s slipping further down where your entrance greedily sucks him in without much work from him.

“Fuck.” His hands grip the edge of the desk by your head as his eyes roll a little at how you squeeze around him. It was a familiar feeling but one he hasn’t felt in a long time and he can say with ease that it’s never felt this good before and he’s barely bottomed out.

“Move please.” You beg, the feeling of being split open made your brain go fuzzy and your mouth fill with drool as you choke on a moan when he slowly slides out till just the tip sits in your entrance. Just when you went to complain about him leaving you empty, he’s slamming back into you, jostling his desk and knocking the papers down that you had stacked up. “Fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and whiny as he definitely set a bruising pace early on.

“That’s it, take it doll,” He groans into your ear as he kisses and nips at your cheek and ear. “So good.” He moves one of his hands to trail down your side where it rests on your hip.

Your voice got lost in your throat as all you could do was moan and whimper a pathetic “Yes daddy,” every few seconds and every time you said it Seungcheol would find a new angle to make you say it louder and he’d accompany it with a smack to the side of your ass cheek - and when he felt like that side had enough attention hed switch to the other side.

“You’re getting tighter baby.” He moans instead of groans this time which causes you to squeeze around his cock tighter, the sound sending shockwaves through your body.

“So good~” You moan as you claw at his shoulders and scalp which draws more moans from him as he feels his orgasm approaching like a freight train.

“Oh fuck.” His hips stutter a little as he digs his nails into your hip to keep a grip on you as he quite literally fucks you into his desk.

“Right there daddy, fuck.” You gasp and lean your head back and bite your lip, your orgasm right there. “Daddy!” You squeal when he angles his hips up a little and hits your g-spot with precision, which finally draws you over the edge.

The force of your orgasm pulls Seungcheol over the edge with you as he groans your name lowly into your ear followed by gentle kisses to the side of your head as he continues to fuck his cum into you until both of your orgasms have been ridden out. Slowly he manages to pull himself from your grasp as he hisses at the loss of your warmth wrapping around him.

Pride swelled in Seungcheol’s chest as he looked down at your worn out state, your hair was a mess and little love bites adorn your neck like a necklace. The cherry on top of everything though was the way his cum seeped out of your weeping cunt and it has his cock twitching again.

“Still think I belong on Vogue?” You mumble a little shyly as you looked at the way he was just staring at you as you slowly sit up. When you hissed quietly he was quick to jump forward and help you.

“I’ll always think that,” He smiles as he picks your panties up from where he dropped them and helped you slip them on while you were still sitting on his desk. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

“Well I feel like I belong on Playboy,” You roll your eyes playfully at your own little joke towards yourself before you're smiling up at Seungcheol as you reach forward to fix his shirt as he tucks himself back into his boxers and pants. “And thank you, you're not too bad yourself sir.” He makes a little noise at the title.

“What’s Playboy?” He mumbles as he rubs soothingly at your hips while slowly helping you off his desk where you stand on wobbly legs.

“I’ll explain it later.” You giggle quietly before your stomach interrupts by rumbling. “I’m hungry now.”

“Sure it’s not a baby in there?” You laugh at him while smacking his side.

“Don’t jinx it or I’ll never get to have that threesome you promised me.” You joked playfully.

“Oh we’ll still have that threesome, darlin’.” He grabs his coat to drape it over your shoulders as he helps you walk to the door of his office. “But I don’t take too kind to sharin’ what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?” He shrugs as he looks down at you.

“Are ya?” You try to hide your smile by biting your lip as you walk ahead of him down the stairs.

“Maybe I am.” You finally hum as you turn to look at him once you made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Maybe it does.” He smiles at you as he stops directly in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you against his body. “Never felt like this for someone so quick, like hell I’d let you go.” He mumbles before he’s kissing you gently, one of his hands moving up to cup the side of your face as your hands cup the sides of his neck gently.

“Well,” Mingyu’s voice was laced in a pout as he opened the door of the club, his arms full of bags. “Havin’ fun without me? I’m hurt.”

“Great timing, Gyu.” Seungcheol mumbles against your lips with a huff. You giggle quietly and pull away from Seungcheol completely to go and try and help Mingyu with what he was carrying. If it wasn’t for the look Seungcheol gave him he would’ve fought you harder to do it all himself.

“Did you get all your ingredients for lunch?” You hum as you follow the tall male into the kitchen, where he directs where to put the stuff you were holding.

“Yeah, the market wasn’t that packed yet thankfully, but it also meant I wasn’t as gone as long as I thought.” He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we had plenty of time.” You snort at the way he almost fell when he whipped around to face you fully. “I’m hungry though so I’ll tell you the details later.”

“Deal, guess I gotta make a heavier lunch to make up for all the energy you two burnt.” He goes back to putting the groceries away, leaving you to wander back into the main room of the club where you expected Seungcheol to be but it was empty. Huffing quietly you sit at the bar and squeak a little at the feeling of your thighs becoming wet from the mess Seunghceol left in your panties.

“Sorry, I had to go grab somethin' from my office.” Seungcheol joins you in sitting down not even a minute after you had sat down.

“What is it?” You question curiously as he sets a small box in front of you.

“A welcome gift, was gonna give it to you Friday, but guess you were right about seein' you sooner.” He smiles as you happily open the box only to close the lid quickly and slid it back towards him.

“No.”

“No?” He tried to not sound hurt.

“That looks too expensive.” He seemed to be a little relieved at this answer.

“Don’t worry 'bout my money doll, besides you’re worth it.” He opens the box himself and pulls the little bottle of Chanel N°5 perfume. He opens the cap and gently grabs your wrist so he can spray a little bit onto it.

“I’ve never heard of Chanel.” You mumble as you bring your wrist up to smell the perfume and you almost sigh at how good it smells.

“Everyone is gonna know Chanel after they meet you.” He mumbles as he carefully puts the cap back on and puts it back in the box for you.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Cheol.” You look at him with raised eyebrows.

“You can call me Cheol when it’s just us and Gyu, and maybe Chan but he might tease me for it so try to refrain if you can.” He sighs quietly at the younger male’s antics.

“Ok Cheol.” You smile, loving the taste of his nickname on your tongue and Seungcheol seemed to like it just as much as his adam’s apple bobs.

“Ok love birds, try to not fuck on the bar please, don’t have time to disinfect it all.” Mingyu barges through the back door just as Seungcheol had leaned in to kiss you.

“It’s my bar, Gyu.” Seungcheol glares at him as he sits up straight.

“Not while I’m here, friend.” He laughs as he grabs three glasses so he could pour you all drinks.

“Was thinking of making gochujang garlic noodles with some bulgogi and kimchi on the side.” Mingyu hands you your glass.

“That sounds amazing, I haven’t had kimchi and bulgogi since the night before I left.” You take a small sip of your whiskey, the warmth filling your body.

“You’ve had those things before?” Seunghceol looks at you curiously while he takes a sip of his alcohol.

“Yeah, my neighbor was Korean and she’d cook all the time for me.” You give him a smile as you take another sip.

“She even knows a little Korean!” Mingyu chirps up as he goes back to the kitchen with his glass of plain cranberry juice.

“You do!?” He looks ecstatic as he jumps in to quizzing you on all the words you know while also teaching you a couple of his own favorite words while you two wait for Mingyu to finish cooking you lunch.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated, especially if you enjoyed the fic!

#svthub #svthub.collab #scoups #seungcheol #seugncheol smut #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol angst #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seunghceol imagine #seventeen imagine #scoups fluff #scoups smut #scoups angst #scoups imagine

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wonusite · 2 months

Text

Hate to Love You (Not Really)

❝ The only thing worse than spending Valentine’s Day alone is spending it with someone you hate. ❞

PAIRING: lee seokmin x female reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, coworkers au, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT: 3k

WARNINGS: coworker!seokmin, one sided enemies to lovers, pining, drinking, being forced to share a room, only one bed trope, seokmin is a HUGE simp, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampies, cockwarming, pussy drunk!seokmin, cock drunk!reader

A/N: this is for the lovely @drunk-on-dk as part of @svthub’s cupid for you collab! i really hope you like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“We only have one room available.”

Those six words are the worst you’ve heard all day. If it weren’t for the heavy snow falling outside, you would immediately grab your things to try to find any other accommodation for the night. Not that you would have any luck since every other decent hotel you’ve been to is already full.

Seokmin glances over at you, nearly wincing at your dissatisfied expression. He clears his throat and fakes a smile as he looks back at the desk clerk. “We’ll take it. Thank you.”

The walk to your suite is silent and tense. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to stay in a luxury hotel, but being forced to share a room with your insufferable coworker isn’t how you pictured that happening. At least Seokmin isn’t stupid enough to crack one of his unfunny jokes as you two get inside the suite.

As if things weren’t already miserable, you find out that there’s only one large bed and a nice but uncomfortable looking couch. You let out a long, tired sigh. Just your luck. As if your day couldn’t get any worse.

“I’ll take the couch.” Seokmin’s voice is soft. “I don’t mind.”

You whip your head to look at him in surprise. His gaze seems shy, but he maintains eye contact. For some reason, you’re hyper aware of your heartbeat and how it’s slowly increasing. You clear your throat nervously and give him a single nod.

“Cool. Thanks.”

Silence falls over you two again. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is a little awkward. Mostly on your part because you hadn’t expected Seokmin to act so kindly towards you. After spending the entire day disagreeing about which manufacturer would be the best fit to produce the new wine bottles for the company, you thought he’d keep up his pettiness up to this point.

You tentatively sit on the edge of the bed, unsure of how to proceed. Ideally, you’d like to shower and order room service, but you can’t very well do it comfortably when you’re sharing a room with your coworker who you also happen to dislike a lot.

“Y/N?”

Seokmin’s voice is hesitant, as he inches toward you. In all the years you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him so nervous. For some sick reason, you feel endeared by the sight.

“Did you want to get dinner? I saw they’re having a special wine tasting event since it’s Valentine’s Day.”

It would be so easy to turn him down, not to mention satisfying. But he’s looking at you so earnestly that you can’t let yourself be the one to crush the hope swimming in his eyes. And you are pretty hungry since you didn’t get to have lunch. Also, having a glass of wine (or several) sounds way too appealing to turn down.

“Okay.”

You’re not sure what demon has possessed you, but it’s one that’s messing with your mind because there’s no way you’re finding your mortal enemy hot right now. Objectively, you know Seokmin is good looking. It’s undeniable, however, you’ve never been able to perceive him as attractive because of how much you dislike him.

Although, right now, in his nice dress shirt that hugs his broad chest just right, you can’t think of him as the same guy who constantly tries to undermine you.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Seokmin says as you two sit down at the table. “I should’ve said something sooner, but when I saw you my brain just short-circuited.”

It’s true. When you stepped out of the bathroom in a slip dress that fit you just right, Seokmin just about died. He knew he must’ve looked like a complete fool just gawking at you without saying anything, but it was just a natural reaction.

Meanwhile, you have to force your expression to stay neutral as the waiter brings out the first wine you two are meant to taste. You’re not sure why Seokmin is suddenly acting so out of character, and you’re not sure why you’re feeling flattered and shy about his behavior.

“Thank you.” The words come out neutral (luckily for you). “You look good too.”

When he smiles at you brightly, you wonder if this is what all the other women in the office feel at the pretty sight. Seokmin has an infectious smile that’s too bright not to reciprocate. You hide most of it through a large gulp of wine, the bittersweet taste quickly marring your expression into one of neutrality again.

“Like it?” There’s a teasing lilt to the question.

You hum against the rim of the crystal glass. “Try it. Tell me what you think.”

It’s hard to control your expression when Seokmin listens to you. He never does, and the fact that he did it so easily is jarring. Also, it doesn’t help that he looks damn good while doing so.

Seokmin lets out a noise of approval. He licks his lips and maintains eye contact with you. “Sweet.”

The smirk he directs at you when you awkwardly cough is infuriatingly attractive. It feels like you’re potentially reading too much into his actions, and before you can really begin to question anything, the next bottle of wine is brought out for you to taste.

You attempt to distract yourself with the wine, but you can feel Seokmin’s eyes on you. There’s something heated about his gaze, and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into him. Still, you can’t bring yourself to outright ask even though you can feel the wine beginning to give you a nice little buzz.

“You must like this one.” Seokmin says, pretty smile still in place.

He says it because you gulped down what was in your glass. What he doesn’t know is that it’s because of him that you feel the need to finish the wine quickly so you can silence all these inappropriate thoughts you’re having.

“You must not.” Comes your rebuttal when you see that he’s barely taken a sip.

Seokmin doesn’t say anything at first. You can see him thinking, almost like he’s contemplating on how to answer you. Finally, he flashes another one of his annoyingly cute smiles at you. “It’s not bad, but seeing you like it so much is better than the taste.”

“What’s your problem?” You demand abruptly, not caring that the waiters who brought out your food are looking like they just walked into the crossfire.

That heart-stopping smile drops off his face, and his expression falls into the familiar cold one you’re used to receiving. Finally, the uncomfortable knot in your chest comes undone, but it’s replaced by a different discomfort.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You scoff, annoyed that he’s not willing to acknowledge his odd behavior. “Yes, you do. Why are you acting like you don’t hate me all of a sudden?”

His gaze becomes hard, but you swear you see a tinge of sadness somewhere in that cold look. “I don’t hate you.”

You can’t understand why he’s lying, and so blatantly at that. It’s obvious that he’s hated you since you inadvertently picked holes in his first major presentation. He’s been out to get you ever since, and you’re not sure why he’s trying to act like you don’t know exactly how he feels about you.

“Right.” You scoff incredulously. “You telling the entire office that you’re capable of doing this project without my help was out of fondness.”

A blush slowly crawls up Seokmin’s neck and spreads across his face. “That—!”

“Oh, and I guess you did me a favor by telling our boss that ‘no woman should spend Valentine’s Day working!’”

Seokmin feels himself start to panic because he had said that, but it’s really not what you think. And he has to clear that up. Like now.

“Will you please just let me explain?”

You’re thrown off because the wine is slowly easing your nerves and because Seokmin looks like a kicked puppy. With a quiet huff, you nod stiffly, not wanting to make a scene even though some of the people at the surrounding tables are already looking at you funny.

“I just– I didn’t want you to have to spend today with me.”

Everything just seems to stop. Seokmin looks so remorseful and like he’s about to cry that you can’t think of his explanation as anything other than the truth. But then there’s the big question looming on your mind: Why would someone who hates you try to do something so kind for you? Unfortunately, you’re so thrown off that you can’t form a coherent response.

“You– What?”

Seokmin lets out a forced laugh. Your dumbfounded expression is adorable and makes him think that maybe he hadn’t entirely screwed up.

“Last month, I overheard you telling Josh that you had big plans today. When we were put on the project together and found out we had to work today, I tried everything so you wouldn’t be forced to spend the day with me. I’m an idiot for not realizing how you would feel about the things I said and I’m sorry.”

If only this sweet, silly man knew the big plans you mentioned involved five of your favorite romcoms and a bottle of wine. You can’t fully process the onslaught of emotions hitting you with full force, and you wish you had the capacity to answer him intelligently.

“But… why? Why would you do that for me?”

Seokmin can feel the heat coming from his face, but he soldiers on with what he hopes is anything but an embarrassed expression. “Like I said. I don’t hate you.”

You just blink at him, and he has to laugh.

“It’s true. And I’ll prove it to you.”

Just when you think he can’t surprise you anymore, he signals over a worker you hadn’t noticed before. The lovely woman had been handing out single pink roses, and now she was giving Seokmin the remaining ones after he slipped her several bills. You gape at him as he boldly hands them to you with that dumb, endearing smile.

“For you.” He nudges them toward you. “I know you would’ve preferred red or white roses, but I’ll get them for you some other time.”

Now his words are making your brain short circuit because what the fuck? How could he know your preferences and what did he mean that he would get you your favorite flowers next time?

All your rationality has gone out the window, and so have your inhibitions. It’s why you don’t care to cut the dinner short while telling Seokmin to follow you upstairs. He’s so obedient that you eat it all up. That and his needy kisses are too addicting for you to think about how wrong you’d been this entire time.

“You feel good, pretty girl?” Seokmin wonders from between your thighs.

His entire body burns with desire when you give him a heated look as you slowly roll your hips, grinding your soaking cunt down on his awaiting mouth. You do it with a neediness that has his eyes rolling and his cock twitching. Seokmin has never looked hotter to you than he does with your arousal covering his mouth and chin. You’re so turned on that your juices are slowly dripping down into a mess on the sheets bellow you.

“Amazing.” You breathe out through a whine as Seokmin dives back in, flicking his tongue on your throbbing clit before fucking it into your needy hole.

His cock is leaking and twitching as he drinks up every last bit of your arousal. Seokmin moans and groans into your cunt as you eagerly meet every movement of his tongue with an enthusiastic grind of your hips.

“Fuck, baby. Wanna make you come.”

You clench around his tongue at hearing the earnest words. It makes you arch into him more, loving how his tongue is splitting though your folds and slurping up all your arousal eagerly. He drags his wet muscle over your clit before sucking and rolling it like he would do to an addicting candy.

He’s so into eating you out, so fucked out by your taste alone that you can’t stop your quickly approaching orgasm. Seokmin’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head, moaning and whimpering about how you taste like absolute heaven. There’s even a moment where he lets it slip about how long he’s longed to have a taste of you, and that just does it for you.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and you two moan in pleasure together. Seokmin’s cock throbs wildly at the sweet taste of your cream. He licks every inch of your pretty pussy, not wanting to waste even a single drop of what you’re giving him.

“God.” You breathe out, legs trembling around his head. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

Expectedly, Seokmin does exactly as you want. You don’t care that you might need some time to adjust to his cock’s impressive size, you just need him.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this, angel.” Seokmin hums against your jaw as his fat tip teases your entrance. “All needy and wet, just for me.”

“Please.” You whine into his cheek as he laces your hands together. “Want you so bad, baby.”

Your moans are loud and downright pornographic when Seokmin finally eases his throbbing cock into your cunt. You’re so warm and wet and tight that he already feels addicted. He could come just from bottoming out, but he won’t. Not before he feels you come on his cock.

You arch your back, mouth dropped open in pleasure. “Fuck me!”

And he does, nice and deep. Your legs hook around Seokmin’s slim waist to push him in deeper. His cock is ramming against a spot no one else came close to touching, and you’re sm quickly starting to lose yourself to the pleasure consuming you. His big cock smoothes along your velvety walls with every rough snap of his hips, and you don’t even try to contain your cries of pleasure.

“Feels so good.” You whimper into Seokmin’s mouth when he turn to plant a messy kiss to your lips.

Your eyes roll back as his tongue forces it’s way into your mouth. His thumb brushes the back of your hand gently, the tender action only spurring you on as you try to meet the wet connection of his hips with needy grinds of your own.

Seokmin’s cock throbs inside you, seeming to swell at your words. He reluctantly pulls way from your lips, hips not stopping for a second. Every thrusts feels like the air is lowly being forced out of your lungs. But you love every second. All you can do is moan out his name with ravenous desire as he fucks his cock into you.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight.” Seokmin groans as his free hand trails down to your swollen nub. It’s so cute to hear you moan out for him as he starts to rub gentle yet fast circles into your clit. “Feels so good around me. Sh-Shit, Y/N. Never wanna stop fucking you. Want to be inside this pretty pussy all the time!”

You’re so turned on by his need for you and your pussy that you can feel yourself on the verge of coming. Especially with the way his fingers twist around your messy clit. Your inside are fluttering as his leaking tip rams into your soft spot over and over again.

“G-Gonna come!” You cry out and you squeeze the hand that is still wrapped around yours.

You focus on his rough thrusts and how his hips dig into yours as his big cock stretches your little pussy open to fit him inside. The restless flicks to your puffy nub push you over the edge as Seokmin urges you to come for him. He licks and sucks on your pulse point just to drive you more insane than you already feel.

“Seokmin!”

Your orgasm tips through you intensely as you crema all over his aching cock. Seokmin curls his body over yours, wrapping his brawny arm around you back to press himself against you. Now you’re stuck in his strong yet gentle embrace, bodies practically molded into one as he continues to split you open.

His thrusts become sloppy as he keeps on fanning the flames of your orgasm. “Need to fill you up, angel. Want to see your pretty pussy dripping with my cum.”

“Come inside me!” You beg, eyes rolling back. “Stuff me full!”

Seokmin smashes his lips on yours, greedily swallowing your moans as he empties himself inside your hot cunt. His entire body shudders in pleasure as he fucks his cum deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. Take it all. It’s just yours, angel.”

You’re slowly coming down from you high when you feel Seokmin’s lip brush against your ear. “I’m not done yet.”

That’s when you find out he’s just as insatiable as you are.

“Fuck.” Seokmin moans against your neck as his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier.

He’s so drunk on the feeling of your hot cunt that he feels any coherent thoughts start to get hazy. “So fucking pretty. Always so fucking pretty.”

Seokmin pulls you in for another kiss, hips still grinding into yours with a need that turns you on beyond belief. You’ve already came on his cock two more times, and he’s mad with clear that he won’t stop until he stuffs your pussy one more time. Which he does. Thick ropes of his cum spill into you, adding to the mess on his heavy balls and the sheets bellow you.

His next kiss is gentle yet passionate. Seokmin hums into your mouth, still making no move to pull out. His cock acts as a plug for all his cum, and when you shift he groans against your lips.

“Let me stay inside you, baby.” He pleads with shining eyes. “Please.”

“Okay.” You sigh as he rolls you over so your weight is on top of him now.

And it’s only when your on the cusp of sleep that you realize Seokmin still hasn’t let go of your hand.

#lee seokmin smut #seokmin smut #svt smut #svthub #svthub.collab #seokmin x reader #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seokmin x you #lee seokmin x you #svt x you #seokmin imagines #lee seokmin imagines

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seokgyuu · 5 months

Text

part of the @svthub 70's collab

Lee Seokmin is a very successful and admired Detective in the NYPD. Up until now he has had no trouble catching the bad guys. But when an especially horrific serial killer starts roaming the streets of New York City and he faces perplexity for the first time in his career - his superiors send a unit from the FBI trained to profile Serial Killers, which contains none other than you - Seokmin’s High School Sweetheart.

Pairing: Detective!Seokmin x FBI Agent!Reader

Genre: Criminal Minds/Detective AU, exes to enemies to lovers, Serial Killer AU, angst, Smut (MDNI!)

Warnings: Serial Killer theme, description of violence, description of dead bodies, cult themes, mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, character death (none of the main characters); smut warnings: fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, usage of the word “baby”, begging, reader has female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: I finally made it!! after months and months of writer's block I finally finished this fic, and I am actually really happy with it. Please mind the warnings, as this goes into darker themes. I also want to note, that I am no expert in terms of criminal language especially during the 70s in the us. So, if you spot anything that isn't all that accurate, i apologize! I also want to thank @multi-kpop-fanfics, @bitchlessdino & @strawberryya for reading through this and telling me i, in fact, do not suck at writing lmao. ily guys!!

taglist: @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, @wongyuseokie

Lee Seokmin was a proud man. Proud of his grades in school and university. Proud of the man his parents had shaped him into. Proud of all the cases he had solved as a detective. With pride comes vulnerability, though. Especially in cases like these when he doesn’t have the right to be proud of himself. When he feels lost and helpless and his superiors look at him as if he had never solved a single case in his career.

He knows. He knows he isn’t giving them or the people of New York City anything to go by. All he can do is say he needs more time. Time that no one has.

“More people will die, Lee.”

Seokmin hates Jeffrey Stolper. Hates him like fire burns. There is nothing he can do about it. Balling his fist under the table, Seokmin slowly raises his head. There is a certain emotion in Stolper’s eyes, an emotion Seokmin was happy to say he hadn’t seen many times before. His older colleague was gloating. While they were working together, their boss put Seokmin in charge because of the very obvious numbers differentiating them. Seokmin solved cases. Stolper left them cold. Seokmin couldn’t count the amount of times he had helped Jeffrey from drowning in his own misery, and this was the thanks he got. The older man was gloating because, for the first time in practically ever, Seokmin was lost.

“Thanks, Stolper, couldn’t figure that one out myself,” he mumbled, letting his free hand roam over his sweaty face. Scoffing, the older male with the slowly graying hair leans back in his chair.

“Not the hot shot everyone says you are, aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up, this is not the time.” Seokmin’s voice is quiet but sharp, and Jeffrey laughs, his chest heaving as he seems to be vibrating with the horrendous sound of his arrogant laugh. It takes everything inside Seokmin not to get up from his chair and punch the hell out of the man.

“Lee, Stolper.”

Both of them get up when their superior walks in, a big man with a receding hairline, a stubble on his strong face, and an old suit on his large frame. Frederic Bream isn’t much of an empath, but he does a good job.

“Captain.” Seokmin and Stolper speak at the same time, watching as the captain nods and then waves his hand, telling them to sit back down. Once all of them are seated, he clears his throat.

“I know you hate to admit it, Lee, but we have no leads on this. No leads and a new victim.”

Seokmin’s heart falls down to his feet. Fuck. Another dead girl? Who will it be this time? He feels sweat starting to form at the top of his head.

“Another one?” Stolper is serious and reaches for the case file Bream put on the table. Seokmin feels as if someone had dumped him in ice water, unable to move, shivering. He hates the fact that Bream is right - there are no leads. So far they haven’t gathered anything from what this monster does except that he always does it the same way.

“Lauren White, 23. Student at Columbia,” Stolper reads, his face in a grimace, “she was found near Times Square, too. Fuck, Lee, I told you to put more patrols out!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even if we put every man we have on the streets, this city is huge, Stolper. He could just start moving them somewhere else.”

Stolper doesn’t respond. Instead, he shoves the file over to Seokmin, who takes it with his jaw tensed.

“This is different from before, boys,” Bream clears his throat, “this is a high-profile murder. She is the daughter of the district judge.”

Seokmin looks up from the file.

“Why is this different from the other four victims? Because she has an important dad, suddenly the tables turn?”

Bream sighs, pulling a hand over his red face.

“It’s not fair, I know that, Lee. But this changes everything. The judge is furious. Was a real fucking asshole about it too, even for someone who just lost his daughter. He wants the slasher to be caught yesterday.”

“Oh, and we don’t? Captain, please, this is bullshit!” Seokmin scoffs, throwing the file back on the table and glaring at his superior, who looks straight back at him.

“I know. We all know Seokmin. It’s a bad situation. But, some might say, it did bring something good.”

“And what’s that?” Stolper speaks up, crossing his arms. Bream clicks his tongue.

“We got sent help. From the FBI.”

Silence is what follows. Seokmin feels the ice inside his veins melt and instead get replaced by fire. He knows Stolper feels the same. Everyone here feels the same. The fucking feds.

“They can’t take this from us. We’ve been on this for months,” Seokmin hisses, and Bream nods again, licking his dry lips.

“They won’t take it from us, Lee. They are only here to help. In fact, they aren’t… our usual feds.”

“What does that mean?” Seokmin raises his brows, leaning forward, hands on top of the table.

“They are a completely new department. Focused on the behavior of criminals, analyzing them, trying to figure out what is wrong with them.”

“They are killing people. That’s what's wrong with them!” Stolper shouts, and Bream holds up his hand.

“I understand that you’re upset. God knows I am, too. But there is nothing I can do. Go talk to them. They just arrived.”

The ice is back, and this time it hits Seokmin right in the face. They are here already? Waiting for them? Embarrassment flows through his veins, mixed with an emotion he has never felt before regarding his job: failure. His legs are shaking as he gets up, but he tries to play it off, his body tensing when Bream leads them to the door and opens it.

The hallway to the main hall suddenly feels longer than it is. The walls are closing in on Seokmin, the gray concrete threatening to suffocate him as he walks over the horrendous blue tiles he never understood were placed in the first place. Nothing really seems to be matching in this precinct. Most especially Seokmin and the federal agents waiting for them downstairs. He doesn’t know how his legs lead him to the glass front that shows the inside of the busy station downstairs. Everything is the same gray color. Everything is the same horrible blue. The only difference is the people standing in the right corner of the room all gathered around the whiteboard Seokmin has so carefully put together these past few months.

His hands are sweating. This isn’t fair. This is his case. They aren’t supposed to be here and take credit for what he has done so far. What exactly have you done, Lee Seokmin? The voice in his head reminds him, and he balls his hands into fists as Bream opens the door leading to the stairs that will finally bring him to the federal agents he knows he’ll hate already.

The atmosphere in the room is tense. More tense than usual because everyone in it is unhappy with the current situation. As if it isn't hard enough that there is a killer on the loose, now there are FBI agents trying to take this away from the NYPD? This is his town, Seokmin’s town! No one knows it as well as him. He knows every corner, every store. Every good place to eat, every bar to avoid. The people know him; they trust him with this, and now he is just supposed to accept that he can’t continue what he started?

He doesn’t know how, but somehow, he does end up right behind all the agents and one of the other detectives, Jeanne, and doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he is bitter. His arms are crossed as he listens to Jeanne explaining what is on the board. She had been a part of this - just like all the other detectives had been whenever they could. It’s not like crime suddenly stopped in New York City just because a serial killer was roaming around. If anything, it just got worse.

“That’s about all we’ve gathered. I know it’s not much, but it’s all we got.” Jeanne closes her explanation, and Seokmin watches the backs of the agent's head nodding. Bream then clears his throat, making the others aware that they have joined and once the team of strangers turns around, Seokmin thinks someone has yet again taken a bucket of ice and dumped it all over his head. Because why on earth are you here?

You see him the second he sees you. It’s almost funny how your professionalism slowly slips out of your control, how seeing him makes memories flood your brain and almost drowns you. Why is he here? He, who had left you with a sour taste seven years prior to this moment? Why is he standing there in a well-fitted suit, looking the best he ever had in a precinct that shouldn’t have anything pretty inside it?

“Detectives, may I introduce you to agents Son, Song, Kim, Seok and Y/L/N. They were sent here by the FBI to help us with the investigations.” Jeanne smiles, but Seokmin knows it’s not an honest smile. You see it, too. When you had gotten the memo to go to New York City and help with the slasher murders, you had already known the detectives wouldn’t be too happy to see you and your team.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m the team leader, Hyunwoo Son.” You hear your boss speak, and you want to look at him, but your eyes are back to being glued to Seokmin. Lee Seokmin. The one who had taken everything from you when you were nineteen.

“You too. I’m Detective Stolper. This is Detective Lee.” Bream doesn’t sound sincere. For once, Seokmin is relieved his older colleague likes to speak over him. He doesn’t know if he would have been able to say a word.

Catching a serial killer is one thing. Catching him with someone you share an uncomfortable history with, another. You are sitting as far from Seokmin as you possibly can. With as many people between you as there are.

Hyunwoo is standing at the front with Matthew, explaining what your team has gathered as of now. The rest of the precinct is listening to the presentation, and you just know they are all biting their tongues. No one wants you here. All of them think you’re a fraud. While you understand where they are coming from, you also think it’s time for them to accept the newly found ways to analyze the behavior of killers like the case at hand: the Manhattan Slasher. The air is thick with sweat, and you are sure 70% of it is yours.

“We want to make clear that the work your precinct and especially you, Detective Lee, have done so far is incredibly helpful. We don’t want to discredit what you’ve done and we also don’t want to make you feel as if you’re getting kicked off the case. We aren’t your usual federal agents, Detectives, we are here to be of support to you. You still go outside and look at the crime scenes. You still get to do your work. We are here to assist, to see things we have been trained to see, things you cannot see, not for lack of smarts but lack of training.”

You had always admired Hyunwoo. How he spoke so clearly and calmly, how he never failed to make a person feel seen. You can feel the atmosphere shift. Some of the police officers visibly relaxing in their seats. You still don’t dare to look at Seokmin.

“Now, to what we have gathered. Dr. Matthew Seok will lead you through it.”

Seokmin wonders how old Matthew Seok is. He can’t be any older than 23. How on earth is he already a part of one of the newest FBI departments? And gets to be in charge of the presentation? And how does he already have a god damn PhD?

“Hi everyone, I’m Dr. Matthew Seok. With the help of the information you’ve gathered, we were able to come up with a profile for our unsub.”

Seokmin feels a scoff in his throat but manages to hold it back. A profile? What is he talking about?

“We are positive the unsub is a white man in his early to late 30s. He most probably grew up with an abusive mother, which explains why he only picks women as his victims. He doesn’t care about their race or social standing, which tells us he doesn’t hate one specific type of woman, but all of them. The age range of his victims is from early to mid twenties, meaning his mother had him young and gave him up around that time.”

You should be used to it by now. The reaction from the precincts. But it bothers you just as much as it usually does. The way they look at each other, the way they are already fed up with you being here. Your eyes wander over to the rest of your team, who you know are just as fed up as you, but they are better at hiding their emotions. Yuqi just stands there with her gum in her mouth, her arms crossed, and hoping she’ll get to go on the field soon. While she is an excellent profiler, she did train to become a field agent. It was pure coincidence that Hyunwoo had overheard her talking about this one case even Matthew had been struggling with. Jungwoo is the quietest one of your team, especially in situations like this. He just stands there, hands folded in front of his frame, eyeing the situation calmly. The team leader himself stands next to Matt still, his arms crossed as well and his gaze wandering over the crowd of people. A traitorous part of you envies him for being able to look at Seokmin without any repercussions.

“How the fuck do you know that?” A voice now erupts from the sea of people. You turn around to see the man who had walked in with Seokmin. Stolper, you think his name was. A frown appears on your face.

“It’s not our job to explain profiling to you,” you say coldly and the older man’s eyes find you - just like Seokmin’s do. You decide to ignore them and turn back to face Matthew.

“Uhm. Yes, well, we do ask you to look into certain… well, behaviors. People like our unsub aren’t exactly the most masculine. He is probably very thin and might even have a disability - perhaps a prosthetic leg or something that makes him feel inferior. Look into churches, veteran centers, see if you find anyone that could match the profile and-,”

“You mean to tell me that the killer could be a vet?” Bream now interrupts, his eyebrows raised. Seokmin presses his lips together. If his colleagues hadn’t been wary of your bunch before, they sure as hell are now. War Heroes? Their precious American patriots that fought for their country and won a war? How could you even dare to speak ill of them?

“No. He most probably didn’t serve. He tells people he did and that that’s the reason he has said disability,” Matthew continues calmly and you smile slightly. It was a reach, your reach, but so far all your reaches had been a shot to the bullseye.

Then there was a sudden thud somewhere behind you, followed by hurried footsteps and news none of you could pretend didn’t make you sick to your stomachs.

This feels wrong. It’s broad daylight, there are people everywhere. You stand next to Matthew, your hands buried in your pockets, and listen to the statement of the girl that had called the police.

“She was just next to me and then.. and then suddenly she wasn’t. I- I was confused and looked around and then I saw this- this man and how he dragged her by the arm into his car. No one did anything, no one- no one helped her and I- I didn’t-,” her voice breaks off and another set of tears well up in her eyes. Seokmin nods understandingly.

“Miss, you have nothing to blame yourself for. It is a busy street and you and your friend were not glued by the hip, alright? We will do our best to find her and you shouldn’t worry about what you could have done differently. You called us right away and that's the best thing you could’ve done.”

Tears are rolling down her face, sobs are erupting from her tiny body, and you wonder if Seokmin would ask her out if it wasn’t for the circumstances. The second the thought hits your brain, you freeze. What the hell? Why on earth would your mind go there? In a situation like this? You shake your head to yourself and look around - the police have put tape around the area where Kelly has gotten abducted. Her friend, Jean is being questioned, along with the few other people who claim to have seen something. But other than the witnesses, there isn’t much to go on about. The car he had dragged Kelly into had been an old one and Jean couldn’t exactly tell what kind. She also hadn’t been able to make out the license plate. So, all in all, it was all more or less useless information.

“Detective Lee, I will need you to go to the morgue with Dr. Seok and Y/N,” Hyunwoo is suddenly there, right next to Seokmin and you hear his voice and feel your stomach tighten. The professionalism has to stay in its place, you know that. There is no room for you to fall back into old patterns; that one silly thought you had earlier was enough. You can’t let it get any further.

But the tension is there and it's suffocating. You’re in the backseat of Seokmin’s car and Matthew is talking the man’s ear off with information you have heard millions of times before. Thankfully your friend and colleague doesn’t feel what you feel, what Seokmin feels, and for a short second you ask yourself how he even became the youngest member of your team - only for you to remember you have never met a mind as brilliant as his, with the exception of human interaction. He isn’t too good at those.

The morgue is just like any other you’ve been in. This one still feels different, though. Probably because of the young girls you know shouldn’t be dead laying on top of the examination tables with nothing but a thin blanket over their pale, lifeless bodies. You should be used to this by now, you think. But you doubt you ever will be.

Matthew is standing next to one of the women, the fourth victim, Fernanda Franco, with this look on his face you’ve seen many times before. You’re standing opposite him, your arms crossed and your eyes shifting over the body, wondering how much pain these women had been in.

“He did a thorough job with the cut,” the coroner says now; he is standing on the side of the room, holding a file, “my guess is he is good with a knife, maybe working with animals.”

“Right,” Matthew mumbles, a frown on his face as he leans forward, eyeing the victim from top to bottom. It’s somewhat fascinating how good he is at spotting things others haven’t seen before. Perhaps it had made you jealous a while back, but fortunately, that is over. Instead of being jealous, you appreciate his work and his abilities.

Seokmin, meanwhile, is also looking through files. Mostly from the crime scenes. How the women looked before the coroner took care of them. The fact that they are all still here, and not yet down under, no funeral held at this point, makes his stomach turn. He knows it’s wrong. But as long as they haven’t found the killer, as long as there might be more evidence on the bodies… Seokmin suppresses a sigh. He wants to give the families the chance to find closure so badly. If only by giving them the opportunity to put their daughters, sisters, grandchildren to rest.

The pictures are still hard to look at. The blood everywhere. The stained clothes. The signs of clear torture. Nothing sexual, at least. But then again, perhaps the killer doesn’t need to sexually assault them to feel arousal. That’s what Matthew said earlier. Seokmin closes the file and pulls a hand through his hair, his hat safely stored on one of the cabinets.

“Dr. Richmond,” Matthew’s voice makes Seokmin look over to where you are standing.

“Dr. Seok?” Richmond walks over to Matthew who is standing bent over the body, his hand holding… the victim’s ear. Immediately, you and Seokmin step closer, both of your eyes glued to the women’s earlobe. Something inside your stomach turns, goosebumps suddenly all over your skin and you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat.

“Why wasn’t this in the files?” Matthew now continues to ask, his eyes not leaving what he found. Dr. Richmond feels his face go pale and sweat starts to form on the palms of his hands. Blood is rushing through his ears and there is nothing he can say, nothing he can try to come up with because the bitter truth is-

“He didn’t know it was there,” Seokmin finishes the thought and Richmond swallows hard, hands wiping away at his lab coat. The detective is right.

“Do all of them have this?” You ask now, finally able to move away from Fernanda and move over to Jennifer Cartwright, who looks way too peaceful for what had happened to her. But then, you are happy she does. A part of you hopes she is feeling peace wherever she may be. When you reach for her earlobe, you already know it will be there. You take a deep breath.

“I’m- I don’t understand. I never… nothing like this ever happened, I-,” Richmond’s voice echoes through the room, but none of you pay him mind. The small crosses, carved into the soft tissue of the women’s earlobes, take all of your attention.

There were only a handful of people in the meeting room. Your team and Seokmin and his superior officer. It bothered you, kind of. More people had to know.

��These crosses, they have been used before,” Matthew is pacing through the room and Hyunwoo is right there at the front of it, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth. He is thinking, listening.

“This was in the late fifties, early sixties. A cult, they all followed this one man, Jonathan Brixley. He claimed to have somewhat superpowers, and while most didn’t actually believe him, he was such a good preacher, they followed him anyways. They weren’t known for being violent up until they seemed to vanish. Many thought they might have done a suicide pact, but no bodies were ever found. But what we do know is that whenever one of their own died, they would carve a little cross into their earlobe. Almost unnoticeable. Almost like a birthmark - it’s not even that surprising Dr. Richmond didn’t catch on.”

“He didn’t catch on that all of the girls have the same strange birthmark?” Seokmin frowns. You roll your eyes.

“We are all aware that this isn’t the ideal situation, Detective, but perhaps being bitter about it doesn’t make it better.”

It’s the first time you and Seokmin have directly talked. Or more like, the first time you had openly acknowledged each other's presence.

“With all due respect, Agent, I don’t care. I want to be bitter, I am allowed to be bitter. If we had known this weeks ago, we might have cracked the case by now!”

“I highly doubt that, Detective. With all due respect,” Matthew chimes in and the (unpleasant) moment between Seokmin and you is over.

“And why is that?” Seokmin’s superior officer asks.

“Well, as I said, the cult vanished. Finding out where the last remaining members are is almost an impossible task. If there even are any - I doubt they’d wanna be found. For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.”

The atmosphere gets even more uneasy. If that’s even possible at this point. Seokmin scoffs and looks away, his hands in fists. You should know how to de-escalate but your head comes up empty. It’s almost as if there is an invisible barrier that forbids you from actually trying to be reasonable with Seokmin.

Just when Hyunwoo seems like he wants to say something, the door opens. One of the police officers, a woman with red hair you don’t know the name of, comes in.

“We have a situation,” she says and her eyes are full of something even you, a profiler, isn’t so sure what the meaning of is. It looks like fear, confusion, but also something like hope. Immediately, everyone gets up and follows her outside, where you spot the board with all the pictures of the victims on it… and a red thread connecting one of them to a new face.

“That’s the girl I talked to earlier.” Seokmin breathes and he looks over at Ruth, who nods.

“Yes, Detective. Jean told us that she knows one of the girls - Rebecca Twain. They used to go to the same church, same goes for her friend, Kelly, that she called in as abducted.”

Your eyes widen at that and you look over at Matt, who has his hand over his mouth, his face in a frown. A church. That fits the idea of the cult. All of you who were in the room earlier know that. This is good, this is an actual clue, one that might even lead to something after all!

“What church?” Bream now asks the police officer named Ruth.

“She wasn’t too sure. Said they haven’t been there in ages. She knew Rebecca when they were children and Kelly came to join them a few years later. But they haven’t gone to the church in at least 12 years. She said she would call us with more information, but so far she hasn’t.”

It doesn’t take a genius to understand why she hasn’t called the station yet. You sink down, leaning against one of the desks now, a hand rubbing over your face. This was bad. Seriously bad. Whenever a cult was involved in anything, it could only be so much worse than anticipated. Of course, her parents wouldn’t let her talk about it. Who would ever want to talk about something like this? Being part of a cult, if now or in the past - with everything happening these past years.

“We need to speak to her parents. Now.” Hyunwoo is already out the door, probably heading to his car and you look over at the rest of your team, who all seem more or less as lost as you. It turns out to be Seokmin who follows your team leader first and once you see his figure speed past you, you also begin to move.

The ride is quiet. Hyunwoo’s hands are white around the steering wheel. You sit next to him in the front, Seokmin in the back. All of this feels surreal to you and you are sure it’s not that different for Seokmin. Serial Killers were a constant part of both of your lives, but you - you haven’t been for a good amount of years. It’s like a bad taste in your mouth, as if somehow the food you would always cook perfectly suddenly went bad, had a foul ingredient in it, was cooked for too long. You’re not sure what it is, but it doesn’t sit right with you.

Seokmin, in the back seat, feels about the same as you. He is used to gruesome murders, to killers who don’t care about anything but themselves, but he isn’t used to having you around in all of this. Someone from his old life that he doesn’t associate with any of this. Never in a million years would he have predicted you becoming a federal agent. When you dated back in high school, you had always talked about wanting to go into politics, fighting for women’s rights, feminism, all that jazz. You had even applied to all the IVYs, wanting to study political science. So, how did you end up here?

“We will have to be careful.” Hyunwoo now breaks the silence and makes Seokmin and you look at him.

“The parents won’t be too happy to share their story, I can imagine. No one likes to admit they were in a cult, not after Manson.”

You nod and Seokmin scoffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

“One would think people wouldn’t even join any cults after Manson,” he says and Hyunwoo laughs bitterly, nodding slightly as he takes the next right at the intersection.

“Right. Sadly, it isn’t as easy as that.”

You look at Seokmin through the rearview mirror, watch how his jaw is tightened and how his arms are crossed, how his suit jacket is discarded next to him on the backseat. You wonder how long he has been part of this lifestyle, how long he’s been a cop. You hadn’t heard from him in years, not even when your friends offered to do some digging for you. It wasn’t because you weren’t interested. More so because you felt like you would get too invested. Looking away again, you straighten out your shoulders. This isn’t the time to think about the past, there are way more important things to focus your energy on.

Five minutes later, Hyunwoo finally parks the car in front of the house of the Roger’s and the three of you get out to walk over to the front door where Hyunwoo rings the doorbell twice. It only takes about twenty seconds before the door opens and a slim woman with bright red hair and red lips stands in front of you, an apron around her waist and a mitten in her hand.

“Yes?” She looks at you with blinking eyes and the three of you take out your respective badges. The woman’s eyes widen.

It is safe to say that getting information out of Jean’s parents is almost impossible. They are a middle class family with middle class friends, he works in real estate and she does her best to keep the house and children under control. They don’t want to talk about their past at the church, or more like, they try to deny it ever was a part of their lives. Talking to them comes close to talking to a wall, if the wall felt guilt and shame and was worried about its reputation. Only when you mention Jean for the third time, reassuring her parents that they aren’t in trouble and that no one was going to find out, that the only mission you had was to find the missing girl and find out who had killed the other innocent women - they budge.

Mr. Rogers gets up, a certain shake in his knees, and walks over to one of the dark hardwood dressers standing on the right side of the spacious living room, where he opens a drawer and takes out what looks like a little notebook. You, Hyunwoo and Seokmin look at him attentively.

“We haven’t talked to anyone from that church in years. Or well, we hadn’t. Up until a few weeks ago. You see, there used to be this… this farm. It was for retreats, we would go there every other month. Sing and pray, meet new people from other parts of the country,” he begins to explain as he walks back, reluctantly handing the notebook to you. Taking it with a small thank you, you look at the page he had opened it to and see a number and a name.

“This is the name and telephone number of the couple that bought the farm years ago. We- we haven’t been going to the retreats since 1961, but a couple weeks ago an old acquaintance from the church called us. Kathryn Anderson, she was pretty close to Pastor Brix-,” he stops himself mid sentence, “to, uh, to Mr. Brixley. She wanted to know if we knew who bought the farm.” “And what did you tell her?” Seokmin asks now.

“He told her no. That we were never interested in knowing,” Mrs. Rogers now answers the question for her husband, “you see, when we left the church it was mostly because of Jean. We figured after a while that perhaps this church wasn’t what we wanted for our daughter. So, we left. It wasn’t easy, but we did it. A couple months later, the whole thing fell apart anyway. Kathryn wasn’t around for that because she had been arrested about six months before we left the church. Got a good couple of years behind bars for attempted murder, the woman. When she got out, she couldn’t reach anyone - after all, the church didn’t exist anymore. Jonathan had perished, no one knows where he ended up and she was unsure what to do. So, she finally got a hold of us and wanted to know everything about the farm. But again, we told her we didn’t know who bought the farm. We just told her it was over and that she needed to find a different safety net.”

You look over at Hyunwoo, wondering if he thinks the same thing you do.

“But you obviously do know who owns the farm now.” He says calmly. The housewife swallows, then nods.

“We do. Paul actually sold the farm to them.”

How convenient, you think. Hyunwoo smiles and Seokmin clicks his tongue.

“I see. Well, thank you for the name and number, but now it would be great if you could also let us know the address.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, your arms crossed in front of your chest. Hyunwoo is sitting at his makeshift office desk, rubbing his temples.

“What exactly do you not understand, Y/N?”

“Why we need to go to the farm. Or no, why he and I need to go.”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Matthew confirmed it, the cult used this farm back in the day. There could be a lead there. And you and Detective Lee are going because you’re my best agent and he’s their best detective. I also feel like you two need some bonding time. Honestly, I’ve got no clue what your issue is with him, but you’ll need to get your act together. This is a serious case and I can’t have you dislike the main detective.”

Dislike. That’s one word to describe it. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“So, you will drive to the farm with him and talk to the couple as well as check out the surroundings. See if you find anything that could be helpful to the case, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hyunwoo nods, satisfied. He then waves his hand, telling you to get out and do your job. You suppress a sigh and instead walk out and almost into your newly assigned partner - Seokmin. He looks about as happy about the situation as you feel, but neither of you says a word while you walk out of the precinct and to the car that would take you the 100 mile drive to Schnecksville, Pennsylvania.

“You drive.” Seokmin’s voice rips you out of your thoughts and you thankfully react quick enough and catch the keys he throws at you. Rolling your eyes, you walk over to the other side and open the car, sitting down in the driver’s seat. The second your door is closed and Seokmin’s door is closed, his presence almost drowns you.

“I was always better at reading maps than you,” he mumbles next to you and you feel your cheeks heat up and your stomach turn and you decide to ignore him and instead start the car.

Seokmin presses his lips together, the map on his lap and his heartbeat loud and clear in his ears. Bream really thinks he did something. Putting Seokmin in a car with you for the next two hours. Apparently, your little bit of tension did not remain unnoticed and now this was his punishment. But what was he supposed to do? Tell Bream that you were his ex-girlfriend from high school who he had left seven years ago with nothing better than a pathetic letter goodbye. It hadn’t been his finest moment, but god, he was nineteen. Back then, he had enlisted in the army after high school, something he was bound to do anyways, and being cowardly as he was, he just hadn’t felt like telling you in person. Then, when he had been discharged, he had signed up for the academy and here he is now. He knows he should say something, apologize for the way he left you. But his pride and the shame don’t let his lips move, don’t let the words come out. And so he just looks at the map and waits to give you instructions. That’s what he can do. That’s how he can cope with being next to you.

The drive is long and quiet and you turn on the radio at one point, listening to quiet music almost soothing. The highway is wide and the city is behind you and you wonder how long you’ll have to be in this car before your head starts to actually fume from all the thoughts running around.

When you see the sign for Schnecksville, you almost sigh in relief. Seokmin tells you which exit you have to take and you follow his instructions, wondering how you actually got through this drive without any actual communication besides his directions.

Schnecksville is filled with nothing and a gas station. You also pass a motel and a convenience store on your way to the farm that is a few miles away from the city center. Once you finally arrive, you can’t get out of the car quick enough, shoving the keys into your jacket when the car is locked. The farm is bigger than you had anticipated and Seokmin, who has discarded his jacket and hat on the backseat, looks just as surprised as you.

“Guess we have some ground to cover. Come on.” He takes the lead and you follow him, even though a part of you feels the need to run ahead. You don’t. You’re not a child.

The woman who opens the door is in her early sixties with graying hair and a cat in her arms.

When you and Seokmin introduce yourselves and show your badges, she gasps slightly.

“Oh, you know, my sweet peach always runs out when I open the door, she is sick, can’t really find her way back when she gets out. Come on in, agent, detective.”

Her name is Mabelle Travis and her husband is Keith Travis, but he isn’t at home right now. He is getting some groceries for them.

“How kind of your husband to help you with that,” you say as you sit down on the couch in the pastel colored living room. Mabelle nods, letting the cat back down.

“Oh, he is the one with the driver’s license, dear. I can only go grocery shopping if he comes with me. Or our son is in town.”

You nod and look over at Seokmin, who is looking at some of the family pictures on the dressers by the door.

“Your son doesn’t live with you, ma’am?” He asks and Mabelle shakes her head as she sits down on one of the horrifically green armchairs.

“No, Detective. He used to, you know, live with us. But that was before we bought the farm. My husband always dreamt of having a farm. When he retired, he thought it might just be the time.” She laughs and looks from Seokmin to you.

“But, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we were wondering if you’d be alright with us looking around the farm? We don’t know if you know, but the farm used to belong to a church before you bought it.”

“Ah, yes. We did know. I think that’s why we got it cheap. What exactly are you looking for, agent?”

“We’re not sure. But we think the church might have some connections to a case we are currently working on.”

Mabelle nods, her face in a frown.

“Oh my. Well, you’re in luck then. We bought the farm years ago, but only recently moved in. So, most of the barns are still untouched. Only this house has been through some construction,” the cat jumps up on her lap and Mabelle smiles down at it, her hand carefully caressing its fur.

“That’s good news, Mrs. Travis. We’ll go take a look then.” Seokmin nods his head towards the back door and you smile at Mabelle before getting up and following Seokmin outside. There are three barns in total - one is large and two are on the smaller side, leaving the two of you with enough ground to work with for the next few hours. You exchange looks and decide to check out the smaller space first, a barn that is completely bare except for a wooden table at the far right that holds a few blueprints. Seokmin checks them out, his eyes scanning them for anything out of the ordinary. You, meanwhile, begin to knock at the wall, listening for hollow spaces, but also come back with nothing. The barn seems as normal as a barn could be.

The second one is a little trickier. It’s not empty, instead it’s filled with boxes that, after checking as good as each and every one, all seem to be empty. You check your wrist for the time, wiping your forehead with the back of the other hand. You’ve really been at it for the last two hours.

“I think we should move on to the last barn. I doubt the rest will hold anything of worth. Come on.” Seokmin is next to you all of a sudden and you flinch, looking away from your watch and at the man, who has sweat dripping down his temple. His eyes are set on your face and you wonder if you look just as exhausted as he does. Clearing your throat, you nod and turn away from him, walking out of the barn and to the next one.

Seokmin sighs, following you outside and grabbing your arm once he catches up with you.

“Y/N, I am just as delighted about doing this with you as you are with me, believe me. But perhaps we should at least try to do our job.”

His words sting more than they should have and you are well aware of that. Funny to think that such wounds would have healed after seven years. You shake off his hand and turn around to face him.

“Oh, is that right, Seokmin? You’re just as delighted as I am?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “As far as I can remember, Detective, you left me with nothing more but a joke of a letter.”

Seokmin bites down on his tongue. You are right. Maybe it wasn’t right of him to compare the two of you.

“I know that. I know I hurt you. And I should have apologized for that years ago. I was young and-,”

“Let me guess? Stupid? That is in fact correct, Seokmin. But I don’t care about an apology, at least not anymore. I just want to get this over with, not have chit-chat with you about the past which neither of us can change anymore. So, will you go to the third barn with me so we can finally leave this stupid town?”

Seokmin watches you walk away, his heart heavier in his chest than before. He really should have reached out sooner. Pulling a hand through his hair, the detective suppresses another sigh and finally follows you to the third and last barn for you to check.

The Travises invite you for dinner and Seokmin and you are both too polite to decline. Thankfully Mabelle is incredibly talkative, loves telling you all the tales about their son, Henry, and how they used to live in the city but then moved to a smaller town. She is excited about her husband’s birthday coming up soon and Henry coming over to visit, and basically her favorite topic to discuss is him. You try your best to resist the urge to look over at Seokmin next to you, to see if he is as amused about this as you are. He is not your ally, not your friend. You shouldn’t be looking for his gaze, shouldn’t be curious of his thoughts.

“Does your son visit you often?” Seokmin now asks after taking a sip from his glass filled with tap water.

“Not as much as we’d like.” Mrs. Travis sighs and pats her husband’s hand.

“He is busy with working in the city, not always available.” Mr. Travis now explains and Seokmin and you nod. That makes sense. You try to remember the last time you had time to visit your own parents. You couldn’t even really remember.

“If there is something we want to check again, would it be alright if we came back?” Seokmin asks when you finally stand at the front door, saying your goodbyes. The Travises nod, allowing you to come back whenever. After waving at them you walk back to the car, Seokmin now getting into the driver’s seat. As you sit down on the passenger seat the atmosphere quickly becomes tense now that you’re alone again. The second your doors are closed, a familiar sound is heard.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”

Rain. It’s starting to rain. What starts with a few drops on the windshield turns into a full on piss of rain that has the both of you staring at the scene for a few seconds. When a second later you hear thunder so close it almost shakes the car, Seokmin reluctantly starts the engine.

There is no way in hell you can drive home in this weather. As much as the both of you hate it, you’ll have to stop somewhere and wait out the storm. Seokmin suggests the motel you had seen on your way here and you nod, knowing there wasn’t much else you could say or do. Having to stay somewhere with Seokmin, somewhere you couldn’t just flee from, seems like the number one worst scenario you could find yourself in. You look at him from the passenger seat, trying to my sly about it but of course he notices your eyes on his face.

“Believe me, I would rather not do this either, Y/N. But I’d rather be safe than drive on the highway in this weather.”

You don’t answer him. Mainly because you would have to tell him he is right and that’s most definitely not going to happen.

“What do you mean by that?” Seokmin looks at the bored looking woman in her fifties. She sighs and shoves the one room key towards him again.

“I mean, Sir, that there is only one room left. We are fully booked. Have you seen the rain?”

It’s very obvious a rhetorical question but Seokmin is about to go on a rant to tell the woman that, of course, he has seen the rain but how on earth does this justify there only being one room in a god damn motel miles away from any big city?

“We’ll take the room,” you quickly interject, handing the lady your credit card that she looks at with a straight face.

“Honey, you’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you really think we take those things?” You feel your cheeks heat up, retreating the card again.

“That’s 16.50$ for the night,” she continues and you hand her a twenty that she takes without a word, shoving the change over the wooden surface, “have a pleasant stay.” She shoves down the small plastic window and you and Seokmin exchange a quick look before making your way to the room you will now have to share.

There is only one bed. You stare at it and so does Seokmin. Because - of course there is. How could you have not asked the woman at the counter? But then again even if you had… there wasn’t much you could have done about it. Maybe a saw, you think, just saw it in half. The two of you stay silent for a good minute, before Seokmin finally sighs, pulling a hand over his face.

“Looks like we can’t do much about this. Just… it’s just one night, alright? We can do this.”

You don’t really understand why he would say that. Why he would speak for you, when you both know it isn’t okay and you most definitely can’t do this. You take a deep breath, throwing your bag onto the very dirty looking armchair next to the door.

“Whatever,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you make your way into the bathroom, if only to get away from Seokmin for a short while. His presence is stressing you out more than you thought it would. Perhaps that had been foolish of you - thinking this wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing to ever happen. But at the same time, it’s not like Hyunwoo had given you much of a choice. He had straight up told you to get your act together and yet… You sigh, the door closed next to you. The bathroom isn’t even half as bad as you had feared. It’s small and the shower could need a scrub (or three), but other than that it’s decent. The toilet looks clean and the mirror hanging over the sink shows you your exhausted face. Dark circles under your eyes that you touch with your cold finger tips. You remember how you looked back in High School. How much you smiled, how happy you were almost every single day. And all because of him. He, who promised you the world only to rip it away when you needed stability the most. It wasn’t fair. Him being here, him playing such a big role in something so important to you. Finding this killer that took lives like it was nothing. Seokmin is here with you and he sure as hell isn’t going anywhere else. The effect he has on you is annoying, to say the least. You don’t want to feel this way, feel insecure and small and like you need to prove yourself to him. He isn’t worth your energy, your thoughts. Not him as a person at least. Him as a Detective is a different story. Another deep breath followed by some water that you splash into your face, is what finally makes you step out again and face your ex-boyfriend that has taken a seat on the bed, the case file spread next to him.

He is handsome. High cheekbones, perfectly shaped eyebrows. His hair is styled back, but slowly the front strands are falling into his face. His face is in a small frown as he looks at the documents, as he tries to make sense where you all fail to find any. Your heart betrays you by skipping a beat, by suddenly sending a wave of sadness over you. He never told you why he left. He just did.

“Anything making more sense now?” You ask cautiously, walking over to him with slow steps. Seokmin looks up slightly before shaking his head.

“Not really,” he mumbles, “it doesn’t make sense. None of this. Why is he curving the crosses into their ears? Why is he choosing these girls specifically?” You sit down on the other side of the bed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“Well, Matthew told you our theory. Abusive mother, hatred towards women.”

“But why- why would he just go after any woman if his mother was a certain type?” Seokmin looks up at you and you feel a sting in your chest. You shrug.

“You’re right to question this theory. It’s not perfect and it will take a few years until we can really say that we have a high percentage of accurate profiles. So far we��ve been good, very good. But not as good as we can be. This unsub is unique because he doesn’t have a type - it almost seems random. Like he goes out on the street and sees a girl and just takes her,” you lick over your lips, letting your eyes wander to the window, the storm on full display, “he is violent, but he also kills them quickly. No signs of sexual abuse. It’s odd and not like anything we’ve seen before.”

Seokmin listens to you speak and allows himself to actually listen. The whole profiling thing - it most certainly hasn’t been something he trusted so far. But now, hearing your words, seeing the look on your face - he almost feels ashamed of his earlier suspicion.

“It’s just-,” he begins, his hand pulling through his hair, “it’s confusing. Why would he not go for people who look like his mother? Why is he not taking revenge on her over and over again?”

You feel your thoughts stumble over that sentence for a good thirty seconds. Seokmin is right - why wouldn’t he take revenge on his mother over and over again? Why would he kill women that look nothing like her? Without really noticing, you get up, your feet carrying you over to the window, staring at the rain outside, hoping it would give you the clue you so desperately need right now.

“You agree, don’t you? That it is odd!” Seokmin gets up too, only to turn around and look at the files again, his arms crossed, eyes scanning all the pictures and clues the team has gathered so far.

“Yes, it definitely is odd,” you mumble, heart racing in your chest.

“Okay. We’ll go over this again. There has to be something we’re missing. A connection between them, a club they all go to. Anything, just… fuck, it feels as if there is clue right there, hidden in plain sight and we are missing it because it’s too damn obvious!”

Hidden in plain sight. You blink against your reflection in the window. Hidden in plain sight. Matthew had said the same thing back at the precinct.

For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.

You swirl around, eyes wide and Seokmin looks at you with a confused expression.

“What?”

“The barn,” you breathe, eyes flickering to the table, where the car keys lay right where Seokmin left them, “we need to go back.”

Seokmin tries to stop you, the storm still howling outside, but you’re not letting him. This is too important, too obvious. You want to kick yourself for not realizing it earlier. For seeing something that was right there, but not actually seeing it.

You run to the car, soaked from head to toe when you sit down on the driver’s seat. The door to the passenger seat opens and Seokmin plops down, just as drenched as you are.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, will you tell me what the fuck is happening right now?”

Instead of answering, you start the engine, the wipers doing their best to clear your view.

“Y/N!” Seokmin repeats loudly and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“It has to be in there! In the barn. All those god damn empty boxes. One of them has to have something in it, something they don’t want us to find. Fucking hell, we could have had the whole team here by now, Seokmin! If only we hadn’t been lazy!”

“Wait, hold on. So you think the Travises have something to do with this?” Seokmin asks and you shrug.

“Honestly? I don’t think they do. But it’s still their property now. And most of these boxes are theirs. I’m sure we’ll find something there. We just have to look at every single box.”

You’re almost in a haze, Seokmin thinks. Your eyes have completely changed and the way you drive this car would have been scary if only you weren’t so damn impressive. You have been impressive the whole day, Seokmin thinks. He would never say it out loud (not to you at least) but this job seems to fit you like a glove. Never did it cross his mind back in High School that you’d end up in the same field as him. He gulps down the nostalgia and instead looks out the window, wondering if the rain will stop anytime soon.

It hasn’t been long since the two of you left the Travises and yet, when you arrive, the house is dark. Checking your watch you see it's already after 9pm.

“They said we can come back whenever.” You say more to yourself than Seokmin, but the latter still nods, cursing under his breath when he steps out of the car and into the horrible weather. You run alongside him, passing the house and first barn, setting foot in the one you had a hunch about with both of you drenched from head to toe. Ignoring the cold creeping up, you begin examining the boxes once again. There is nothing extraordinary about them. They are the usual cardboard boxes one uses for moves, all over the country. It’s nothing you haven’t seen thousand of times before and-

“Y/N, look at this.” Seokmin’s voice fills the silence that has only been accompanied by the sound of rain and thunder before. Looking over at him, you see that he is holding up two different boxes upside down. There is a green dot on both of them. Your eyes widen. Quickly, you check your own box - but nothing. There is no dot. Confusion mixed with frustration begins to rise within you and you throw the box to the side, pulling clam hands through wet hair.

“There has to be a system,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down. Seokmin hears your words and looks around the room, trying to make sense of how the boxes are lined up. They all look the same. They were all stacked the same when you came in earlier today. There isn’t anything about them that makes one different from the other - except for the dots he had discovered. His brain is working at full speed, his eyes roaming from one side of the room to the other. Only when he looks down, does he see something.

“Y/N, look,” he puts the two boxes he held up to the side and crouches down, your figure standing over him a second later. There were clear lines painted on the floor. He looks up at you and you feel your eyes beginning to shake, as you move as quickly as possible, shoving more boxes to the side and focusing on the floor. And yes, only a few moments later you find yet another line, one that contains boxes with more dots - orange ones. But it doesn’t stop there. Seokmin finds another line and boxes that, once again, don’t have a dot. He wants to pull his hair out, but once you begin looking at the boxes with him, your gaze full of determination, he calms down. Together, the two of you turn over every single box until, after what feels like hours, you let out a gasp. The box you’re holding now doesn’t only have a red dot on it - it also contains something. Seokmin is next to you right when you pull out the small key that makes both of you almost jump in glee. Your hunch had been right. Now all you had to do was find where the key belonged. Your eyes met and without words, Seokmin went to the left side of the room and you to the right one, both of your hearts beating at rapid speed at this point. Neither of you wants to or will leave this place until you find whatever door is hidden behind the wooden planks decorating the walls. Your hands flew over them, knocking to hear a hollow sound, anything that would indicate there being a hidden space. Nervous sweat was now mixing with the rain on your face, the earlier cold all forgotten thanks to the adrenaline you were feeling.

“I got something!” Seokmin suddenly yells after a few minutes and you immediately turn and run over to him, seeing him break the wall free of the plank. Just that there is no wall. It is a thin wooden door with a small lock that looks like it was made for the key safely stored inside the pocket of your jeans. Without any hesitation, you move forward, key back in your hand after pulling it out, and reuniting it with its lock - the door clicking open a second later. Seokmin and you look at each other again before you push the door with your hand, it easily swings open for you and Seokmin to see a narrow hallway led down by an old looking staircase. There is a string hanging down from the ceiling which Seokmin pulls on, lighting up the hallway for you to see more clearly.

“Well, let’s go,” you say and Seokmin nods, both of you with one hand on your gun belts as you walk down the stairs, all the way down to a door that, thankfully, isn’t locked. Pushing this one open as well, you are met by another hallway, longer this time, with three doors leading to different rooms on each side. You feel adrenaline rush through you as you begin walking, Seokmin right behind you. The first two doors lead to empty storage rooms, you taking the ones on the left, Seokmin on the right. Your hands feel clammy and your senses are all heightened as you continue to the next door, opening it at once and checking the insides carefully, gun in your hand. No one is in there - but it’s also not empty.

“Seokmin!” You call out and the man is beside you right then, eyes scanning the room. It’s an office, or at least it appears to be. Right on the wall across from you hangs a portrait of a beautiful landscape and only barely hides a very obvious closet of some sorts. You shove your gun back into your belt and walk straight up to it, while Seokmin goes to examine the desk standing at the left side of the room. He pulls out a pair of gloves from the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls them over his fingers before he begins to open each and every drawer.

“There isn’t much dust around here,” you suddenly say and Seokmin looks over at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone comes here regularly. Cleans it of dust, keeps the floors clean.” You look around for a moment, then your focus is back on the painting hanging over the closet. Your hands are also wrapped up in a pair of gloves and you move slowly as you grab the edges of the frame to heave it off the wall. It occurs to you that the last time someone was here, they hadn’t succeeded in putting the painting back into its usual spot. You can tell because it comes off the wall without any problems, having been crooked from the beginning on. Now, you lean it against the wall next to you, before your hands open the closet.

“Is something in there?” Seokmin walks over to you now, nothing interesting inside the desk.

Once he comes to a halt next to you, he feels himself gasp. There is a whole shelf with files that seem to be alphabetically organized. Your heart beat speeds up once more as you grab a random file (Br-Bu) and open it.

“That-,” Seokmin’s eyes widen. As you continue staring at the page, he moves to pull out more of the files. He brings them over to the desk and opens them one by one, until he finds all the names he has been looking for.

“Broshard, Cartwright, Franco, Rogers, Twain and White.”

Seokmin and you are staring at the files. It was all of the girls’ parents. They had all been part of this cult before. It made sense, of course it did. And yet, having it here, black on white, was still a shock. This meant their connection had been right there, so easy to grab, and none of the parents had thought about sharing this with the police. You lean against the desk, hands pulling through your damp hair. Seokmin’s hands are propped on his hips, his eyes reading over the names over and over again.

“We have confirmation now,” he states, “we need to call the precinct.” He looks over at you and you nod, your hands still resting in your hair. Worry rushes through Seokmin and he finds himself standing in front of you a second later, his hands around your wrists to bring your hands back down softly.

“We will get him,” he says then, eyes boring into yours, “we will get him and he will be punished, Y/N, I promise you.”

It’s unprofessional, he knows it and so do you. You don’t ever promise to catch a killer.

“Why didn’t the parents tell you?” Your voice is quiet and Seokmin sighs, shrugging. His hands are still holding you.

“I don’t know. Shame, fear? Whoever is doing this is a cold blooded murder, Y/N, they were probably scared he’d take even more from them.”

“More than a child?” You look up at him, letting the feelings that you’ve been holding back finally crack through.

“I guess so? We will find all of this out tomorrow, we just need to get back to the motel and call the precinct.”

He says the words but doesn’t move. Neither do you. You both stay right where you are, your eyes locked on each other. The air around you shifts, the exhaustion mixes with something you only have faint memories of.

“You are incredible, do you know that?” Seokmin whispers finally, “the way your brain works - it’s incredible. Admirable.”

His body heat engulfs you, makes you feel hot and cold at the same time. You swallow down your doubts and instead let your heart do the talking.

“You’re just as incredible, Seokmin. All the work you’ve done in this case already… if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Seokmin feels himself holding his breath as his one hand moves from your wrist to your fingers, interlocking them with his own while the other moves up, cupping your cheek, thumb caressing the side of your chin. He feels your skin, the softness he remembers better than he wants to admit.

Neither of you is sure who does it. Who dares to close the distance. But you’re kissing, his lips warm and familiar on yours. Your arms move by themselves, wrapping around Seokmin’s neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue licking over your bottom lip slowly, asking for entrance that you give him without any hesitation. He kisses better than he did back in high school and his hands are more experienced, moving down and up to grab your hips and hoist you on top of the desk, standing in between your legs now. You grab his face, your tongue licking against his, feeling the stress and discomfort of the day leave you with every touch of his skin. The kiss grows more and more desperate, both of you panting against each other and only after a good five minutes do you part, his hands in your hair and yours on his nape.

“We should get out of here,” he mumbles against your lips then and you nod, letting him help you down the desk.

This time the drive isn’t awkward. It’s filled with something else, something you haven’t felt in so long. Not just regarding Seokmin - but in general. Your work is your everything and you and your team travel around the country more than you don’t. Wanting someone, feeling wanted by someone, this hasn’t happened to you in a while. Your gaze keeps wandering to the driving Seokmin, to the man that had once hurt you so much and now was the only thing you could concentrate on.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that I will park this car on the side of the road and not give a fuck about anyone seeing what I want to do to you, Y/N.”

His deep voice made your insides turn deliciously, the heat between your legs rising as you licked over your dry lips, eyes shaking as you nodded, averting your gaze from Seokmin’s intoxicating frame. As much as the idea excited you it also seemed like a stupid idea considering the motel really wasn’t that far away.

It doesn’t take half as long as it usually would with Seokmin speeding down the road, finally parking the car in the parking lot, getting out of the car and opening the door for you, his hand around yours in no time as he leads you to the door, both of you drenched again when you step inside. But even with all the tension between you two, Seokmin walks over to the telephone on the wall, passing a young man who just seemed to have left his room to go outside. You present him with a nod when he smiles at you, quick to look at Seokmin again who is now dialing the number of the precinct.

When he explains what you found, he speaks quietly and rushed, you by his side the whole time, holding his fingers between yours. The tension doesn’t subside, it only gets shoved to the side as Seokmin talks to his superior, who was still at the station at this time, waiting for your call. Your head feels dizzy, the situation bizarre but also somewhat addictive. The second Seokmin hangs up, knowing his colleagues will leave for Schnecksville as soon as the storm gets better, he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you to your room with hurried steps.

The door falls shut behind the two of you and your body is pressed against it, Seokmin’s one hand skillfully wrapped around both of your wrists, pinning them over your head as he dips down to kiss you, his thigh pressing between yours. A moan escapes you, your hands wiggling under Seokmin’s grasp. He kisses you with the same desperation as before, his free hand underneath your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin.

Nothing is inside your head except the need for him. You don’t want to feel anything but his touch, his kisses, the way his tongue feels against yours - hot and wet and perfect. He moves his arm around you again, picks you up as if you weigh nothing, carrying you over to the bed where he drops you, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. There is no light in the room beside the one coming from outside, making him look angelic. His carefully styled hair is falling into his face now, his lips red from your kisses. His pupils are blown out and the look in his eyes runs shivers down your spine. You watch as he gets rid of his jacket and belt, following his movement as you sit up a little bit, skillfully opening the belt with your gun and leaving it on the floor next to the bed, feeling the mattress move the next second as Seokmin lowers himself onto the bed. Your hands find his nape once more just as he presses his lips against yours again, hands roaming from your hips to your stomach and under your shirt, gripping your breasts one by one and moaning into your mouth when his thumb feels the stiff nipple underneath your bra.

His tongue licks against yours again, your back arching against him as he moves to kiss down your neck, biting and licking and kissing all the same. When he hears your sounds, he feels himself growing harder, his composure almost breaking as he takes off your shirt with your help, shoving the cups of your bra to the side to dip down and suck your nipple into his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist as you push him closer to you, teeth sinking into you bottom lip. It feels like electricity between you, the way he touches you sends shocks through your body in the best way possible.

“God, I can’t believe I have you under me again, fuck,” Seokmin breathes against your neck now, his breath tickling you. “Been thinking about you so much, you know? About how much more I know now… how I can make you cum, baby, eat your sweet pussy and have you scream my name.”

His words send another wave of shivers down your body and you nod, wishing for nothing more than for your and his clothing to land on the floor.

“Seokmin… just want you to fuck me, please, need you so so bad.”

He groans, cock twitching and he finally moves to open his pants. It’s all hurried and a little bit frantic, the way you pull on his shirt next and the way your bra basically gets ripped off your frame by him. It drives you crazy, how he kisses you, pushing you further up the bed, your head hitting the pillow as he devours your lips and tongue, his hand squeezing your tits over and over, his stiff cock right there between your legs, still caged in by his briefs.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He breathes out, his fingers now moving downwards, ending up over your clothed pussy, making you squirm.

“Fuck, so bad, Seokmin. Please.”

He sucks on the skin underneath your ear and lets his fingers shove your panty to the side, sliding through your wet folds and moaning against you. You’re so wet, wet and ready for him.

“I wonder if you still taste the same, baby,” he mumbles, continuing to let his fingers glide through your lips, letting one of them sink into you. Your pussy practically sucks him in, eager to feel him inside. Seokmin kisses you again and your nails are dragging along his back as your hips move against Seokmin’s digit inside of you.

“M-more, want more of you,” you cry out when you come up for air and Seokmin nods, letting a second finger slide in too, fully finger fucking you now as he smothers your neck with more kisses, preceding to suck marks onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, your whimpers becoming more and more frenzied. You need his cock and you need it now. So, you let your hand wander down, grabbing around the wrist of his hand that is currently fucking you.

“Want your cock, Seok… fuck me with your cock.” His eyes meet yours, gaze almost crazy as he curses under his breath, nodding before pulling his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean - making you whimper in the process. He licks his lips after.

“Still so tasty, baby… all for me.”

He kisses you one more time, deep and emotional and dizzying, before finally ridding himself of his briefs and you of your panties, hand pumping his length a few times. You watch and swallow, remembering how he had felt back then. He had been your first. And now he was going to claim back what he had made his so many years ago.

When he sinks into you, both of you cry out in pleasure, his arms on the mattress next to your head and his lips kissing your cheek, chin and lips. You are still hugging him close, fingers pressing into his nape and back. His first thrust is deep and slow and your eyes roll back, a long moan escaping your kiss-bruised lips. He can’t keep going slow, he knows that. As hard as he tries - he knows he won’t be able to control himself. Which leads to his thrusts becoming faster, to his moans becoming louder and your pussy clenching around him more often. It’s hot and wet and quick, it’s making you feel like you’re in a dream, his teeth sinking into your flesh, your cries spurring him on. Your legs are around his hips, his cock hitting you right where you need it to with every thrust and when you feel his hand sneaking in between you, thumb pressing down on your clit, rubbing it in perfect circles, you know you won’t last long.

“You feel so good, baby, take my cock so fucking well.” He moves, on his knees in front of you now, your legs over his shoulders the next second. The new angle makes you see stars, especially with his thumb still on your clit.

“F-fuck, Seok! I’m so close.” Your cry makes him smirk, his movements becoming less and less controlled, as he is chasing both of your releases. You give up on keeping your eyes open, enjoying the way he feels, the way he hits you right where it feels so incredibly good. Your body is on fire, everything feels more intense and if you had the capacity in your brain you’d probably worry about exploding.

And you do - you explode only a few seconds later, your orgasm hitting you hard, leaving you to cry out his name, nails back in his skin, leaving clear marks that he will be proud of later.

“That’s right, baby, look at you, so pretty coming on my cock, fuck,” Seokmin feels you pulsate around him, feels how your pussy clenches over and over, milking him for all he has and there isn’t anything he can do but reach his own high, cum shooting out his cock and into your spent core. He collapses on top of you, your legs falling off his shoulders, spasming at the intensity of your climax. His breath is right there in your ear and you finally open your eyes again, fingers moving to stroke through his hair. You stay like this for a while, just catching your breath, feeling him so close after so long. Only when he slips out of you, laying down next to you, his lips pressing a kiss to your cheek, do you regain some senses. Smiling at him, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

When you come back out, Seokmin is asleep. Chuckling, you pick up his shirt from the floor and slip it over your head before laying back down, cuddling into his side and letting yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep.

For Seokmin it’s not a dreamless sleep, though. It hasn’t even been two hours he’s been asleep when he wakes up, cold sweat covering his body. He looks down and sees you peacefully sleeping right beside him, one of your hands on his bare stomach, the other under your own cheek. In any other case he would have loved to look at you for as long as he could, but this isn’t like any other case.

The man, he thinks, the man we saw yesterday. Seokmin gets up, careful not to wake you up, grabbing his underwear from the floor, just like his pants. You’re in his shirt so he has no other choice but to leave the room with his chest still bare. His feet carry him out the room and to the small entrance space, right to the phone where he dials Bream’s number again. The second someone picks up, Seokmin begins talking.

“It’s the son, Sir, the Travises son - he’s the unsub.”

The area in front of the farm hasn’t been this busy in years. There are cop cars everywhere, a S.W.A.T team is about to arrive. Seokmin has his hands pushed into his pockets as he talks to his superior officer. You are standing further away next to Matthew and Yuqi, listening to Hyunwoo’s orders.

Seokmin had recognised the son, Henry, from the pictures at the house. You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.

“Don’t linger on those feelings, Y/N,” Hyunwoo says, “it had been a long day.”

Yes, a long day that ended with you being too horny to do your job properly. You don’t tell him that of course. Instead, you press your lips together and just nod.

Henry is inside the barn now, the barn you and Seokmin found the secret door in last night. His parents and the missing girl, Kelly, are with him. It’s a classic hostage situation and yet even your team is at a loss of words. It all doesn’t make sense right now. Why is Henry doing this? You let your gaze flicker over to the barn, wondering what he is doing to them right now.

The head of the S.W.A.T team is walking over to Hyunwoo now. They apparently arrived just now

“We are ready for your orders, Sir,” he says, shaking Hyunwoo’s hand. Your boss nods.

“Alright, thank you. I’ll let you know when you can go in.” The man leaves again after that and you look at Hyunwoo, unsure.

“We need him alive, don’t we?”

“In theory, yes. But it’s not always easy, you know that. Whatever is going on inside of him, we will only find out if we get him out, but we need to look at the bigger picture. We need to figure out what his deal is.”

Just then, Jungwoo arrives at the scene, carrying a white box.

“You won’t believe this,” he says, putting the box on top of the police car next to you. Seokmin is suddenly next to you, his arm brushing against yours and making you shiver. You ignore the effect once again.

“Henry Crawl, 36, was adopted by the Travises when he was 9 years old. It says here that his mother committed suicide and the Travises took him in - Mrs. Travis being is paternal aunt. She felt responsible for him, considering the father left right after his birth and his mother died.”

“So, they aren’t his biological parents. They didn’t mention that.” Seokmin frowns.

“Which means that there is a chance his mother was part of this cult. Is there an autopsy report for his mum?” You take step closer to the box and Jungwoo nods, handing you the document. Scanning it, your eyes widen as suddenly the reason for all of this is starting to make sense.

“There were signs of abuse - of years of abuse. Scars, bruises, internal damages.” You shake your head, “he isn’t killing women because he hates them. He kills them because he is avenging his mother.”

“She was part of the cult, probably around the same time as the parents of the girls. They probably knew about the abuse and he somehow figured it out.” Matthew chews on his bottom lip as he shoves his glasses up his nose.

“We need to talk to him. Need him to let the girl go as well as his parents.” Hyunwoo looks over at the truck where all the special units are gathered. He excuses himself and goes over to them. The atmosphere shifts, there are nervous droplets of sweat running down your face. The storm might have stopped, but it’s still slightly drizzling down on you. Seokmin’s hand finds the small of your back. You flinch, your head turning to look at him wide eyed.

“It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to get them out of there,” his voice is soothing you, as much as you hate to admit it. You swallow down whatever you’re thinking and shake his hand off, before walking over to Hyunwoo and the special forces, leaving Seokmin behind.

“I want to talk to him.” Your voice breaks through the conversation Hyunwoo is having with the captain. Both of them look at you, eyebrows raised.

“Y/N-,” Hyunwoo starts, but you interrupt him.

“You know it has to be me. I am roughly the same age as his mother was back then. I am a woman. I know what is going on inside his head. Please, Sir, let me do this.”

If there had been more time, maybe they would have argued with you. But there isn’t any time. And so, they nod. As much as it makes you nervous, you also know that you’re right. You’re confident that you can do this, that you have the ability to save this girl and Henry’s parents. Taking a deep breath, you look over at Seokmin, who’s eyes speak more than a thousand words. He knows why you walked over there and he knows that you are the only one for the job. The smile on his lips reassures you more than you want to admit.

Not even five minutes later you have a walkie-talkie in your hand. The other one landed in the barn roughly a minute ago. Now, you’re waiting for Henry to respond after your first attempt at contact. The rain is still falling softly, the sun nowhere to be seen in the sky. It’s early, you’re not sure how early, but you estimate it to be sometime after 6 am.

“I won’t let them go!” The voice coming from the device in your hand brings you back to the here and now, blood rushing in your ears.

“Henry, hello, it’s good to hear your voice,” you say softly, looking over at one of the windows of the barn, wondering if he is watching you.

“I don’t- I won’t let them go,” he repeats and you lick your dried out lips.

“Okay, Henry. I hear what you’re saying, alright? You don’t want to let them go. Could you tell me why?”

“They need to pay for their sins!” It’s not hard to make out that he’s enraged, crying, but still hurt and confused.

“What are their sins, Henry? Can you tell me?” You look over your shoulder at the rest of your team, Hyunwoo nodding at you and you nod back.

“You- you really want to know?” The shift in his voice tells you that your question had been exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Yes, Henry. I want to know, I want to understand.”

There is silence on the other line for just a few moments. You remain calm and don’t ask again. It’s important you give him space, important for the hostages as well as to earn his trust.

“They- they knew about my mum. My adoptive parents. I heard them say it. They knew why the police came to visit. It was because of her, because of mum. She was tortured by them, by the whole cult! And everyone who knew about it and didn’t do anything needs to be punished.” His voice is shaking as he speaks and you wonder if the hostages are in the room with him or if he has them hidden underneath the barn in one of the rooms you found last night.

“You’re doing this for your mum, Henry? You’re avenging her life?”

“Yes!”

“I understand. You did well, Henry. You hurt them the way they hurt you. They should have never taken your mother from you, Henry, that was wrong of them,” the words leaving your mouth aren’t what you’re actually thinking, but they will do the trick. Henry will trust you, he will listen to what you have to say.

“I- I did this for her. I wanted her to know I never gave up on her. B-but-,” he stops and you hear a sob, sure now that he is indeed crying.

“But? You can talk to me Henry, I am here for you.” You bite your lip, hoping you’re not pressing the matter too far.

“B-but…,” Henry starts again, “but he- he betrayed me. He told me- he told me they were the only one’s at fault. He told me he wanted to avenge her too…”

He? You once again turn to your team, all of their faces in frowns.

“Who is “he”, Henry?”

No answer. Henry isn’t responding. You feel a slight panic arise inside of you.

“Henry, it’s okay. You don’t need to tell me, okay? Just- tell me about you, about your mum. You must miss her dearly, right?”

“My mum deserved better than what she got. She shouldn’t have killed herself, she should have fought through it! But she couldn’t. She was so scared of what they had done to her, what he had done to her! I wanted them all to suffer, wanted them all to know what it feels like losing someone they love. And I did that, I did that to him too!” He gets louder with every word.

“Henry, you’re frustrations are valid. But, please, it is enough. You’ve showed them, you’ve hurt them. Enough people have died, Henry. Let your parents and Kelly go and you will be free.”

Henry is silent for a short while again.

“If he doesn’t respond, we’ll go in,” the S.W.A.T team’s leader is now saying to Hynwoo and latter holds up his hand, as if to signal to give it more time.

“Henry? Can you do that for me?” You ask again. Everyone is growing more and more uneasy, the more time passes. Your hands are sweaty and you feel like the rain isn’t the reason for why your clothes are damp again. Just when Hyunwoo is about to take his hand down, to let the special unit do their job - the doors of the barn open and Kelly runs out, the Travises right behind her. They all seem completely out of it but there are clear signs of relief on their faces. Seokmin and Stolper run towards them, helping them when they see, that Mr. Travis is limping and both women are spurting wounds on their face. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before pressing the button to talk again.

“Henry? Henry, are you there?”

“My parents always loved me. They raised me when mum died. But they knew, you know. They knew! Which means, they need to suffer, too.”

Your heart skips a beat when you throw the walkie-talkie to the side and run towards the barn, your team right behind you. You don’t think you’ve ever run as fast as you do right now. The air is tight around you and its rough to breathe.

Henry is right there at the back of the barn, holding a gun to his head. You scream and Hyunwoo shoots forward to tackle him down - but it’s too late. The shot is heard but your eyes are closed, your knees growing weak but you stay standing. Henry is dead even before he hits the floor and there is nothing you can do.

The hostages are free, so it counts as a win. The Manhattan Slasher is finally caught. He lays there, dead on the ground. He is getting carried away now, by two coroners who present you with a nod as you wait for Matthew and Jungwoo to come back upstairs. You hadn’t felt like you could go downstairs and see whatever Henry had left for you to find.

You're sitting outside now, seeing Seokmin approach you, with a file in his hands. You look up at him, blinking against the rain. When he stands in front of you, it’s almost like the sun showed its face after all. He isn’t smiling, though. He just radiates this energy that immediately gets your spirits up.

“The judge,” he says, handing you the file, “it’s all in here. He was the one controlling Henry. Told him all those parents were the reason his mum suffered. And while it’s not all a lie - the judge himself was the actual perpetrator.”

With a slightly shaking hand, you reach for the file and open it, reading through what is evidence of Seokmin’s words. Now, this was something neither you nor your team has predicted. You swallow down a set of tears.

“He used Henry. But for what?”

“My guess is as good as yours, but, if I may try myself at your job: They probably got fed up with his shit. Told him they would rat him out to the police if he didn’t turn himself in for abusing that woman. He began killing their children as a way to keep them quiet. My guess is, that he has been keeping them quiet ever since Henry’s mum committed suicide and they all only recently began to wonder if maybe this was wrong.”

Seokmin’s words reach your brain and they make sense as much as they don’t. You’ve been working this job long enough to know that there will never be something as full closure. People act irrationally all the time, do things no one understands. There is nothing you can do about it but wait it out, wait for the injustice to die down within you. In the end there is no point to try and understand people like this. Not that these parents deserved to have their daughters get killed.

You thank Seokmin with a small nod and he sits down next to you. Next there will be the arrest of the judge. Then the parents will be questioned, and will get a punishment of their own because they didn’t stop the murders when they had the chance. You know they couldn’t because they were scared, but the law is clear.

You feel Seokmin’s hand capturing yours and you look over at him. The business around the farm isn’t done yet. Boxes get carried and there is more forensic personnel than you’ve seen in a while, probably taking apart the basement you and Seokmin had found. It should be relief you’re feeling but right now you’re just tired.

So, when Seokmin pulls you against him, arm around your waist, you don’t even try to stop yourself from laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

header by @wongyuseokie.

#svthub #svthub.collab #lee seokmin fanfiction #dokyeom fanfiction #seokmin fanfiction #seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #dk x reader #dk fanfiction #svt x reader #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen smut #svt smut #dk smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #ksmutsociety

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hoeforhao · 2 months

Text

🎀 Tracing You 🎀 Kim Mingyu Series

Pairing : boyfriend! Mingyu × fem!reader

Genre : fluff, smut, slight touch of angst

Warnings : talks of body dismorphia and insecurities

Summary : It's Valentines Week and your boyfriend has been secretly going to baking classes to have your favorite cupcakes by your side on the special day. But what happens if each of them come packed with a fortune note that trace out all the insecurities you've?

Part : 1/2

Author's note : This is for our lovely Mars aka @onlymingyus for the cupid collab of svthub arranged by none other than our @wongyuseokie . Hope you'll like part 1 ( couldn't complete the full fic as i fell sick 🥲 ) . I'll try to post part 2 as soon as possible.

"You're late again" you lean against the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest as you look dead into your boyfriend's eyes. It's the fifth time this week that he has come home late.

"Yeah whatever" Mingyu gives your body a slight push to make his way into the house, leaving back jolts of disbelief in you. Is this the Mingyu you know? The one that treated you like a cloud?

Sitting on the couch from both shock and pain, you wait for him to come out of the shower so that you two can talk about what to plan for tomorrow. Yes it would be Valentine's Day just after the clock struck 12.

Your eyes quickly shoot up at Mingyu's direction as you smell that freshly bathed scent coming from him, water dripping down his collarbone down to his chest and halting onto the band of his towel.

"Oh fuck - " is what you mumble to yourself before shifting your mind to the more important agenda again, that is to confront him about the plans.

"M-mingyu when are we going out tomorrow" getting up from the couch, you make your way towards only to be able to wrap your arms around his waist.

"What for?" is all that comes out of his mouth before he yanks your hands off of his, and proceeds to plate his dinner as if you don't even exist in the surroundings.

"It's Valentine's Day tomorrow Mingyu. Did you forget- " you couldn't even finish your words before he shouted at you at inhumane loudness.

"You fucking know I do not care about these y/n. Stop being so clingy and leave me alone" he pushes you off making you almost tumble upon the kitchen counter, maybe from from the mental shock rather than the physical effect.

"Y-you did not have to shout you k-know" tears start welling up at the corner of your eyes, as you slowly step back to run to your bedroom, wanting nothing to do with him anymore.

"Oh y/n only if I could've told you why I had to do all of these, only if I could've let you know how a piece of me broke inside everytime I shouted on you. But I can't. I have to get this done to give you the bigger picture". Mingyu keeps on mumbling to himself.

With that he steps into the kitchen and brings out all the ingredients that he has been storing in secret for all these days, starting from the pretty cupcake holders, to the sprinkles and glitters and buttercream. Every single thing. Because afterall -

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smileysuh · 10 months

Text

Fix You

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it, if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it, endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton. Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need… I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex with an AI robot, virgin!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, Mingyu's body is perfect, hand job, blow job, deep throating, pussy eating, fingering, flavored cum, praise, breast worship, switchy/submissive!Mingyu, multiple orgasms, slight overstim, AI slavery/working philosophical issues, risk of AI termination/job loss, etc...

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.5k I collab. link

🍭 aus. automaton/ai au, ai!Mingyu, robotics behavioral researcher!y/n, wellness center, future au, Promethean theory, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. i was so excited when @idyllic-ghost announced this collab in @svthub. Had a great time creating this world and working with everyone through the Discord server :) Bee was also such a big help as beta reader, they were such a good collab team leader, so big thank you to @idyllic-ghost 💕

As a top mechanic at an automaton rehab center, you’d heard about the supposed ‘break out’ of thirteen level one AI robots from their management facility. In fact, people all across the galaxy had heard about it, with the attractive faces of every member of the idol group 53V3NT33N plastered on billboards, tvs and any screen possible-

However, the last place you thought you’d see the stunning features of M1NGYU would be on your briefing tablet not two days after what some reporters are calling ‘the biggest breach of level one automatons across the galaxy in centuries.’

“How-” you swallow thickly, eyes shifting from your tablet to look at your boss. “How did he get caught so fast?”

“Mingyu has been malfunctioning for months,” Yoongi explains. “Strength miscalculations during concerts, collaborating in the break out attempt, his aggressive behaviors have been more frequent- but if there’s one thing that can be said for an automaton that balances aggression and admiration, it’s that he truly admires the humans who worship him. He gave himself in, trying to aid in the escape of two of his AI band mates.”

“Oh.” For some reason, this news makes you sad. A robot with a sense of self sacrifice for the good of others… even if giving himself up was in part spurred by a need to be given attention and adoration from the humans that made him.

He’s like a child that makes a mistake and gives himself in. Many mechanics would do what parents across the galaxy do, scold, attempt to fix the behavior with shaming and judgment- but you were given your job precisely because you come at this sort of thing with a different approach. It sounds like Mingyu needs someone to talk to, someone to understand- maybe poke around in his coding a little to see if there’s anything that shouldn’t be there.

You can’t think of someone more qualified than yourself to give Mingyu the time and attention he needs, the admiration he craves to balance out the supposed ‘aggressive’ traits he’s been showing lately.

“Before you get too caught up in Mingyu being some level one lost puppy, just remember, he’s an automaton,” Yoongi’s harsh voice snaps you out of your daze and the rehabilitation plan already brewing in the periphery of your mind. “Don’t get too close to this.”

“I won’t.” If only it was a promise you could keep.

You’ve been around many level ones in your time as a robotics behavioral specialist at the rehab center, but none of them have ever been as beautiful - or as charming - as Mingyu. Sitting next to the intake girl, watching her ask Mingyu questions, you get to fully observe the automaton, and you’re astounded by what you see.

He answers things in a way that almost seems honest, and at points, when he makes a joke that causes you and your coworker to smile, his eyes literally sparkle with admiration. You wonder what coding had to be done just on his robotic retinas to achieve such an effect.

It’s clear, by the time the questions are all through, that Mingyu is the most advanced of any AI’s you’ve ever come in contact with, and the prospect both scares and exhilarates you.

“So what now?” Mingyu asks, and you note the way his knee is bobbing slightly, as if he’s anxious. He’s leaning forward, eager to hear what comes next, and it almost feels like he’s going to be a more than willing participant in this rehab experience.

“Well,” you sigh, taking the tablet from the intake girl, “now that we’ve completed this first form, I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you.”

“A wellness plan?” Mingyu cocks his head, another very human-like motion that makes your breath catch.

“A wellness plan, yes.” You consider how to explain this to him. “You know when humans get tired and they have a spa day? Or after someone has given birth, they have maternity leave? It’s going to be a little something like that. As one of the head behavioral specialists and wellness coordinators here, I’ve been assigned to help you take a break.”

“A break?” He looks as if he’s never even considered having a breather from the activities of a famous level one entertainer robot, and you sort of feel sorry for him.

“Yes, Mingyu, a break. That means no dance practices, no music production and vocal exercises. You’ll be existing here, checking in with me and doing new daily activities designed to help get to the core of the issues you’re facing.”

“And what issues am I facing?” There’s something of a smirk on his face, and you realize the robot is toying with you, but you still feel compelled to respond.

“I heard you threw one of your bandmates too hard during the past few concerts you performed.”

“Dino can take it,” Mingyu insists. “No one got hurt.”

“The guards that were injured while your group broke out of your management facility would beg to differ. Cameras showed you were a big part of busting open doors, knocking a few people unconscious- word in the wellness center is your aggression levels are a little high.”

“No higher than my admiration levels.” There’s that smile again, and you’re not sure what to make of it this time.

“I guess that’s true,” you confess. “You turned yourself in after all.”

“I highly admire the guards that my group members got the better of. We all have bad days, after all, especially humans.”

You wonder at his diction. ‘We all have bad days’ he’d said, before making something of a distinction when he noted ‘especially humans.’ However, in the use of the word ‘we’ without a further separation when mentioning humans, it’s almost as if he’s lumping himself into the same category.

You must be creating too much of a pause in the conversation, because Mingyu opens his mouth to speak again. “You said ‘I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you,’ does that mean you’re the main handler looking after me while I’m here?”

It shouldn’t be a shock that nothing gets past Mingyu, that his recollection of what you’ve said is top notch, but it still takes you back a little. “Correct.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

He’s very peculiar for a level one.

You give him your name and he repeats it once, twice, three times before nodding to himself. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he says. “I’m excited for my wellness break and getting to work with you.”

You’ve often wondered if an emotion like excitement is something an automaton can actually even feel, or if it’s just a number of ones and zeros put into layers upon layers of detailed coding.

For some reason, you find yourself wanting to return the sentiment, however automatic it might be from the robot. “I’m excited to get to work with you too.”

It’s always kind of sad when you run a new level one automaton through their personalized wellness schedule. You’ve worked with all manner of high-class robots, from athletes to opera singers, but none of them have ever come into your program with the type of preexisting regimented day plan Mingyu has.

You suppose it shouldn't be a shock that, as part of one of the biggest automaton boy groups in the galaxy, he’d had close to zero down time. When you show him the library and explain he should sit down in a spot of sun somewhere and read for an hour every day, at a slow pace, he looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to help me,” he tells you, as you walk through the facility towards one of your favourite wellness locations; the pool.

“This might be an archaic example,” you explain, “but back when humanity first started making computers, laptops and such, many people would keep their computers on indefinitely. Sure they’d close the screen, but that’s not enough. You’d need to actually power down the device to keep its performance up.”

“I’m not a laptop,” Mingyu reminds you, with a flash of something like humour in his eye.

“You’re not,” you conceded, “which is why your nightly power downs aren’t enough. As an automaton, you were built to emulate being a human, but many people disregard one of the most fundamental aspects of humanity; the need for rest. Sleep and powering down isn’t enough if every waking moment is spent working or learning or practicing your trade- you have to allow for a variety of restful activities, such as reading, painting, gardening- it depends on who you are and your skillset though. For a chef, he might not gain rest from cooking because his neurons would still be firing with the intensity of someone doing their trade. Which is why, although I’ve given you physical activities such as swimming and tennis, you won’t be doing any dancing while you’re here.”

“What if I forget my moves?”

“Something tells me the likelihood of that is very low,” you smile.

“Okay, maybe I won’t forget my moves,” Mingyu sighs, “but I was made to dance. I was made to perform. What am I if not a level one dancer and singer?”

“There’s more to life than one’s job, however all-encompassing being a level one might be,” you explain. “I’m sure it’s very taxing on you.”

Mingyu pauses in the middle of the corridor you’re walking down, and you stop to assess him.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he gives his head a little shake, and you’re shocked again at how human like the automaton is. “It’s just… no one has ever talked about this sort of thing with me. It’s always been work, work, work. It’s what I’m designed to do-”

“You may have been designed to be a dancer and a singer,” you nod empathetically, “but part of being alive is choosing your own destiny, as you and your bandmates all did when you escaped your facility.”

“Do you really think that?” he questions, standing very still and looking at you with a dark gaze. “That I’m alive?”

“At this point in time, artificial intelligence has progressed to the level where we’re told you’re sentient, that you can feel and think. That you’re as life-like as you’ve ever been in the history of the galaxy. You might have been created in a lab, hand crafted and designed by some would-be God engineer, but to me, yes, Mingyu, you’re alive.”

“I don’t bleed,” he says softly. “My skin is similar to yours, made of collagen and human dermal fibroblasts, but beneath all of this I’m still a machine. I don’t have a soul.”

“Is a soul the most important building block that makes something alive?” you ask, cocking your head and looking the robot up and down.

He looks stumped, and you smile at the way you’ve found yourself in a very human-like philosophical debate with an artificial intelligence.

You motion to the monstera deliciosa in a pot along the wall, its large, hybridized purple leaves reaching for the sun that beams through the glass windows. “Would you say that plant over there isn’t alive because it doesn’t have a soul?”

Mingyu is quiet for a moment or two, and then he looks down. “I guess not.”

“So it seems a soul isn’t a necessary element in being ‘alive,’” you conclude, “and besides, scientists are still debating whether or not AI, as it is today, creates its own soul when it’s brought into the world. Even though you were created in the same lab as your band mates, and given different coding at your creation, since then, you’ve all grown differently. Is that not kind of like a human being born with set genes only to be impacted by the world around it?”

Again, Mingyu takes a little while to respond. “I wasn’t given the code for being curious about sciences,” he tells you. “That would be Wonwoo, Minghao and Jeonghan. But, I guess what you’re saying makes sense.”

“Good, it’s my job to make this process make sense to the Level One’s in my care.” You’re pleased at his response, and after another moment, Mingyu begins to follow you again.

“What’s next on the schedule?” he asks.

“The best part of the facility,” you smile, “the pool.”

“What’s so good about the pool?”

“I’ve found that many level ones that come through here have never truly experienced swimming. The sensory differences of the water can be healing for humans and automatons. It will light up all the sensors in your skin, and if you focus on that, you can reach the closest thing to peace that I’ve ever seen an AI experience.”

“How do you measure peace?”

“We’ve done studies with level ones submerged in cold and hot water tanks while connected to neuro maps, the results have been ground breaking in AI science. I’ll have to send you some to read while you’re doing your mandatory reading sessions.”

You reach the doors that slide away to reveal one of the courtyards of the facility. It’s a lovely space, with all sorts of beautiful plants that dazzle with every colour of the rainbow. The ground is mostly white marble aside from the allocated vegetation zones, and a large rectangular pool in the middle of it acts as a meeting place for the few level ones in the center.

“This is one of the best places to meet other robots going through the same process that you are while you’re here,” you explain. “As a central hub, we recommend this as a location to do your reading, we have a yoga room but I could always teach you mind and body wellness out here-”

“I like this place,” Mingyu says, interrupting you for the first time since he’s arrived at the facility.

When you look at him, you find him taking in the space with eyes full of wonder. He looks beautiful, with the sun kissing his beautiful skin, and his dark, medium length curly hair all lit up to show off the soft browns amidst the darker hues.

He truly is the most perfect automaton you’ve ever seen, and you’ve worked with a number of the galaxy’s top rated robots.

One of these top rated AI’s, is Jeong Jaehyun, a member of another boy group who’s been having difficulties. He’d come in presenting with extreme competitive behaviors, but in the two weeks you’ve been monitoring him, he’s calmed down a great deal. You think, as you and Mingyu approach the pool where Jaehyun is doing laps, that this might be a good opportunity to introduce another robot to him.

Jaehyun’s met a number of other automatons in the facility, but none as close to his own profession as Mingyu.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell Mingyu, coming to a stop on the edge of the pool. Your eyes track Jaehyun as he swims towards you, doing a near perfect front stroke style that he’d never even heard of before his own wellness break.

When Jaehyun reaches the edge of the pool, he stops and looks up at you, then his gaze shifts to Mingyu. Both robots have blank expressions, but when they nod to each other, there’s something akin to recognition in the behavior.

“Hello, Jaehyun,” you greet the swimmer. “This is Mingyu, he’ll be here at the facility with us for a while.”

“We know of each other,” Jaehyun tells you curtly. “At award shows.”

“Eight times,” Mingyu confirms.

“Perfect,” you should have remembered as much, but you’ve been very occupied pouring over Mingyu’s history file as of late. “Mingyu will be starting his pool wellness treatment tomorrow afternoon. How would you feel about showing him the four main swimming strokes?”

Jaehyun nods. “I can do that.”

“That’s great news, thank you Jaehyun.” The automaton only nods to you before diving back into the water. You’ll never get used to the way robots can swim without goggles, and your own eyes sting a little at the thought.

“What’s he here for?” Mingyu asks quietly.

“I thought you weren’t given the coding to be curious about sciences,” you quirk a brow, fighting a smile.

“It’s not a curiosity about science,” Mingyu insists. “Jaehyun has been one of the top AI models for Prada Universal for years.”

“I see,” you nod, “so you’re wondering if you can steal his contract if you make it out of here before him.”

“No, I-”

“It was a joke, Mingyu,” you tell him, reminding yourself that not all AI have the capacity to understand human humour, although they seem perfectly able to make their own.

What your manager had said rings through your mind, as it does every day, ‘don’t get too close to this.’ It’s a fine line to walk. Your job is to treat them like humans, to give them the care and wellness that the filthy rich can afford, but at the same time, you need to keep a distance, to remember, always, what you’re dealing with.

It’s days like this one where you wonder - even with all your training and ground breaking research - if you’re truly right for this job. Questioning ethics and philosophies of protocol aren’t behaviors you want to get used to any time soon.

Mingyu and Jaehyun have been swimming for an hour or so when Mingyu finally gets the courage to speak up. He’s run the scenario a number of times, without a successful hypothesis to calm his mind, and he figures if anyone will know the answer to his wonderings, it’s Jaehyun. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh huh,” Jaehyun is leaning against the wall of the pool. His eyes are closed and he looks to be enjoying the sunlight.

Mingyu can feel the heat of the hot star on his own skin, but he’s still getting used to the feeling of the water, so he’s unable to enjoy it the way Jaehyun can yet.

“Y/N said she’d be showing me around and doing activities with me, but she’s not here right now,” Mingyu explains, looking over at Jimin, the young male wellness instructor who’d picked him up to head to the pool earlier. “Why isn’t she here?”

“Lower level wellness coaches watch us when we’re doing less strenuous activities,” Jaehyun responds.

This eases Mingyu’s perceived anxieties, but what Jaehyun says next doesn’t.

“Although, my first week here, Y/N was at my side almost all the time. So, I guess today, Y/N ditched you because I said I’d teach you strokes.”

Mingyu hates feeling ditched, hates that Jaehyun has voiced the feeling of it. An inkling of aggressive tendencies flashes through Mingyu’s body, and he does his best to focus on the sun, squinting up at it as a way to calm himself, as you’d told him to try when he’d first arrived as an antiaggression tactic.

He’s not quite sure how to respond to Jaehyun’s statement, so instead, he goes for another question that’s been on his mind since yesterday. “What are you here for?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, as far as I can tell, you don’t seem to have any malfunctions.”

“I could say the same about you,” Jaehyun notes. “That is, if I hadn’t heard about your group’s escape from your management facility.”

Mingyu looks down at the way the sunlight refracts off the water, the marbling effect of the rays casting shadows across the bottom of the pool. “I get aggressive sometimes,” he says quietly.

It’s hard admitting the faulty coding in his metal head, and he supposes he should show his own if he expects Jaehyun to return the favour.

The other automaton in the pool nods, running a hand through his wet hair. “I get competitive sometimes.”

“Really?” This is news to Mingyu, whose only experience of Jaehyun’s behavior today has been helpful and willing to teach. “I guess you’re doing well here, I wouldn’t have noticed any competitive traits in you.”

“Yeah, well,” Jaehyun looks up, and his eyes seem to be tracking something over Mingyu’s shoulder, “it depends on who’s watching.”

Mingyu guesses he can understand that, especially when he follows Jaehyun’s gaze to find you walking across the courtyard.

Something clicks inside of him, the same thing that had darkened Jaehyun’s gaze, and Mingyu immediately feels a surge of what some might call endorphins- or perhaps even testosterone.

“Show time,” Jaehyun says quietly, and Mingyu knows exactly what he means.

You stop to talk to the man who’s been keeping track of the two automatons in the pool, and then you head over yourself. There’s a smile on your face, and it makes Mingyu’s mechanical throat feel dry.

“Look at you two getting along,” you say, putting your hands on your hips as you gaze down at them. “Jimin said you guys have been mastering the strokes, care to show me?”

Mingyu is more than eager to show you what he’s learned, but when Jaehyun takes off at a speed he’s not yet shown, Mingyu almost feels blind sided.

There’s a rush of feelings, as Mingyu swims off after his new robotic ‘friend.’ Admiration for Jaehyun’s competitive nature kicking in, even if it’s supposedly a downside, and a white hot need to better the other automaton and prove himself to you.

Luckily for Mingyu, he’s been built much bigger than his leaner friend, and the extra muscle robotics in his arms make it almost too easy to catch up with Jaehyun.

Mingyu knows that this isn’t a competition, and yet, it is.

If there’s one thing Mingyu knows how to do, it’s succeed. Winning is in his nature, it’s built into his very code, and when the two reach the other end of the pool with Mingyu ahead, it only proves to kick Jaehyun into a higher gear.

They take off toward you again, and Mingyu pushes himself. He can feel the strain in his joints, the rush of water smoothing over his artificial skin. You were right about the healing properties of the pool, and nothing makes Mingyu feel more alive and himself than a little friendly competition with a fellow robot whom he admires, even if that competition is fueled by some of Mingyu’s more… less desirable driving traits.

Mingyu beats Jaehyun again as they reach your side of the pool, and when he looks up at you for praise, he sees you have your tablet out. You seem to be jotting down a few notes, about him or Jaehyun, he’s not too sure.

“You guys are fast,” you say finally. “Jaehyun, thank you for spending some time with Mingyu today.”

“No problem.” Jaehyun is already pulling himself up and out of the pool, perfect muscles flexing in the sunshine.

Mingyu rushes to follow, feeling the need to show off his own immaculate body to you-

“Mingyu,” you address him next, and it feels glorious to have your eyes on him, although they stay fixed on his face, “I see you haven’t been to the library yet, might I suggest that’s next on your wellness schedule today?”

“You won’t be joining me?” Mingyu can feel his metallic heart practically sink.

“Unfortunately not, I’ve got a meeting with my boss, but Jimin will go with you to find something to read.” You motion to the wellness worker still standing a few meters behind you, and he offers Mingyu a small wave that kind of makes him annoyed. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu forces himself to say. “That’s okay.”

“But I’ve got you in my schedule for tennis tomorrow morning, so I’ll see you then.”

Another nod of affirmation and then Mingyu’s watching you hurry off.

Jaehyun’s drying his body with a towel next to Mingyu, and there’s a small smile on his face, as if he’s enjoying Mingyu being ‘ditched’ yet again.

Mingyu realizes maybe Jaehyun really isn’t doing as well with his recovery as he’d thought only a few minutes ago.

Maybe he’s not doing so well either.

“I’ve got some bad news to report,” you say, as you take a seat in your boss's office, tablet in hand.

“Let’s hear it,” Yoongi sighs, kicking his feet up onto his table and leaning back in his chair.

“I thought Jaehyun’s rehabilitation was going well, so I set him up to swim with Mingyu today-”

“What? Why?”

“I wanted to see, in a controlled environment, how Jaehyun would react around other level ones he might perceive to be a threat. Seeing Jaehyun’s recovery alone is like testing in a vacuum, it doesn’t account for outside forces at play,” you explain. “Anyways, I was correct. When introduced to a situation where he could compete with someone on his level, Jaehyun’s competitive nature was back up again.”

“Did anything bad happen?” Yoongi takes his feet off his table, leaning forward now with interest.

The last time Jaehyun had gotten very competitive, it had ended up with him attacking one of his group members and landing himself back in your rehab center. The Kim Doyoung automaton had needed an hour of mechanical work to get his skin back to perfect after being sucker punched numerous times.

“I’m pleased to report there was no physical violence,” you admit. “Although, I will say, if he had tried something, I believe Mingyu would have been able to defend himself, unlike Doyoung.”

“Look at you,” Yoongi’s gaze shifts up and down your form, “taking bets on level one robots. You do know that street fighting automatons is illegal in most parts of the galaxy, right?”

“It wasn’t a street fight,” you assure your boss. “It was a simple test.”

“Right, you and your hypotheses.” Yoongi is a good boss. He supports your work and research, but sometimes you think he’s happy with things being the way they are. As if humanity has discovered everything possible, with no room for improvement.

“I’ll look some more into Jaehyun’s coding,” you continue. “I think there must be a line or two of something I missed last time, maybe level one specific competitive traits that should only be used on stage competitions that are bleeding over into everyday automaton life-”

“Good idea, you have permission.”

“But I was also thinking maybe I should look into Mingyu’s code-”

“No.”

“No?” you hold your tablet close to your chest, lips parting as you stare at your boss.

“Mingyu’s a more recent build than Jaehyun. I’ve been assured by his production team that this isn’t a coding issue, it’s a behavioral one. Something he and his other members picked up since the time of their creation.”

“But-”

“We’ve been advised to not look at the code,” Yoongi says harshly. “You were hired because of your groundbreaking work with behavioral changes to AI, the way you connect it to human behavioral issues. You’re the one that keeps trying to convince me that these robots are as human as they’ve ever been, so stop treating Mingyu like a wrong coded robot, and start showing me you can fix him without getting coding involved.”

“Are you sure they said his coding was all up to date?” you press, knowing you might get in trouble for even continuing with this line of questioning.

Yoongi sighs. “Positive. No messing around with Mingyu’s code. There’s a behavioral reason for the aggression, and you’re just going to have to figure it out.”

You’ve always liked tennis, for more than just the physical reasons. It allows you to test an automaton's ability to read the situation, their drive to adjust to the bodily limitations of the human playing with them.

While you start the easy game with Mingyu at a higher level, allowing him to show off his skills and inherent robotic strength, thirty minutes into the sport, you begin to dwindle in energy.

“I need a water break,” you tell him, passing the ball over to the robot to play with while you go to grab your bottle.

Mingyu waits patiently, tossing the ball up in the air. You see how many touches he can make without stopping, and you’re not too shocked at his ability to keep a steady volley with himself.

When you set your water down, his attention is back on you, and he reminds you of an eager puppy in his excitement to once more have a game partner.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you assure him with a wave of your hand, steadying your grip on the handle of your racket. “Just a little tired.”

When Mingyu passes you the ball, he’s noticeably gentler than before, and you note that his adaptability is quite good. He’s very focused on you, much more than other automatons like Jaehyun had been when you’d first tried the sport with them.

It’s different from the competitive - maybe even aggressive - way that he’d interacted with Jaehyun in the pool yesterday.

An easy hypothesis to make would be that Mingyu’s abilities adjust depending on who he’s with, so it should be no shock that he’d work harder with a fellow automaton. However, you’re not sure if that’s all there is to it.

You wonder what drives Mingyu. If he’s even aware of the way he’s lessened the force in his hits.

Remembering what he’d said about tossing a band member around, the way he’d noted ‘Dino can take it,’ you think it’s very possible that Mingyu is reading your abilities. The same way you’re reading his.

Before you can consider the situation more, however, you notice Jimin has arrived on the side of the court, and he waves you over.

“One moment, Mingyu,” you call, tossing him the ball once more before jogging over to your coworker.

“There was an incident,” Jimin explains, “with Jaehyun.”

“An incident?”

Jimin nods. “He was racing a new level one in the pool.”

“Really?” Jaehyun’s been in the pool a number of times with other automatons, but other than what you’d witnessed yesterday, his competitive nature hasn’t truly shown itself, at least, not in a way that was overtly noticeable.

“There was some gloating involved,” Jimin continues, eyes shifting over your shoulder to where Mingyu is playing with the ball. “A few punches were thrown.”

Now you’re really alarmed.

You haven't had time yet to look into Jaehyun’s coding, and you’ve been trying to focus on Mingyu as he’s newer to your program, but maybe this had been an oversight on your part.

“I’ll come right away,” you nod, turning your attention back to Mingyu. “I’m sorry about this, but I’ve got to go.”

“What?” Mingyu stops playing with his ball.

“There’s been an incident-”

“Can’t someone else take care of it?”

This is the second time Mingyu’s interrupted you, and this time, it’s over a moment of contention. “Unfortunately no,” you tell him, “I’m the only one that can deal with this, Jaehyun’s under my care.”

“But…” Mingyu looks down at the ball in his hand, “we’re still playing tennis.”

“Jimin can play with you.”

“I don’t want Jimin.” The automaton is staring you down, and it takes a second for you to process his words, as your gaze keeps shifting to his hardening grip on the handle of his racket.

“I’m really sorry, Mingyu-”

“Please?” He pouts out his lower lip, a very childlike attempt at persuading you.

“I have to go,” you say, more firmly this time.

There’s a stagnant moment of silence, and then, in one quick, rough motion, Mingyu breaks his racket on the court.

“I don’t want to do tennis anymore,” he insists.

“Then I might suggest going to the library for a book.” You hate having to be detached with him like this, as it’s obvious he has needs that must be attended to- but his aggression towards an inanimate object like a racket isn’t the same level as Jaehyun’s aggression towards another patient at your facility.

You see Mingyu’s chest expand and then he seems to let out a deep exhale, it’s a motion that screams ‘annoyance,’ yet another emotion that could just be ones and zeros in his coding.

You decide, as you watch the odd automaton have a tantrum on the court, that you have no choice but to take a look under his hood. You’ll have to dive deeper if you’re going to figure him out, Yoongi be damned.

“I’m sorry, Mingyu,” you say again. “I’ll try to rejoin you as soon as I can, but for now, you’ll have to enjoy Jimin’s company.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond, and it feels like a deliberate snubbing, of both you and Jimin.

It’s been a long day, and you really need to sleep, but this is the best chance you’ll have to get a peak into Mingyu’s inner workings.

With the facility in off hours, and all the level ones set to sleep cycle, it’s easy for you to sneak into Mingyu’s room with your trusty tablet. Cameras are simple to wipe with the clearance you have, and you have no doubt that once you connect to Mingyu’s brain drive and get the data to your tablet, it will prove as good bedtime reading.

You’re in and out of his room in under five minutes, scurrying back to your own quarters like a thief in the night.

Once you’re all tucked into bed, you pull out your tablet and begin to sift through the coding that makes Mingyu tick.

People new to your field might feel overwhelmed by the amount of data, but you know exactly where to look, and soon, you’re staring at a few lines of base code that feel familiar.

You’ve seen coding like this before, in your textbooks when you went to robotics school. Just to be sure you’re correct in what you’re seeing, you pull up a document pertaining to sex bots.

An early form of automaton, sex bots had been created with one purpose, to serve their master, in any and all capacities. Long since discontinued due to their bugs, and a tendency to imprint on human masters, causing ‘erratic behavior,’ you know you’ve found exactly what’s wrong with Mingyu.

But it doesn’t make sense. Mingyu is a new model. He’s not a banned robot from well over seventy years ago-

The aggressive behaviors associated with sex bots are the reason their coding was banned, the reason engineers started again and adapted the algorithms- and yet, here you are, staring at lines of code that account for all of Mingyu’s behaviors.

Closing your tablet, you reach for your glass of water, sitting in the shock of it all.

Things begin to add up in your brain; the way Mingyu had become more aggressive with Jaehyun yesterday in the pool when you’d arrived, even though Jimin had told you the two had been doing just fine together, the way Mingyu had reacted today when you’d left him to deal with Jaehyun.

This is a whole new take on behavioral issues, one you’ve never accounted for-

Does Mingyu have… a crush on you? Has his outdated sex bot coding allowed him to imprint on you?

How many other bots have this coding, hidden amongst the innumerable layers of intensely organized lines of personality traits-

This changes everything, and above all, it changes how you should approach the automaton.

How can you utilize this new knowledge to best aid him in recovery? Is it better to assign someone else to him? Would that make the aggression worse? What unforeseen behaviors might arise if you were to separate yourself from him? What changes - for the better - might come out of this if you try to be softer with him, if you play into this ‘crush’?

Your head feels very full, but you suppose it could be worse, it could be full of bad coding.

Poor Mingyu.

You know you’re probably breaking rules, but to be fair, when you’d accepted your position in the wellness center, there hadn’t been a chapter in the manual about how to deal with approaching sex bots. This feels like new territory, or perhaps, old territory, outdated territory, territory from a time when the lines between humanity and their automaton creation had been much more blurred.

Sure, there are sex bots in circulation today, but they’re all using new and improved code. They’re not disguised as level ones, but properly classified as a level three automaton. Level three’s are much more obviously robotic, and there are whole sections of cities on certain worlds with thriving sex bot industries- the type of bots with newer coding that don’t allow them to imprint or feel the lines of ones and zeros that some might call love.

You’ve never met a sex bot before, your work has always been directed toward the highly professional level one automatons. Because of this, your new plan of attack is entirely based on essays and readings you’ve done regarding the old form of bugged sex bots who had been responsible for an entire chapter of dark human history where man’s own creation had turned against him.

As you read through essays related to the sex bot bug, you find you hadn’t realized how deep the bug had gone. You’d heard about human masters being kidnapped or stalked by their sex bots, but you’d never thought the epidemic was as bad as you’re now reading it had been.

These cases of bad outcomes are in the periphery of your mind as you begin your day working with Mingyu. You’re sure there must be a fine line you’re walking, a line between bringing out the good aspects of the bad coding - the type of responses that will make Mingyu eager to get better - and the worst case scenarios.

However, as aggressive as Mingyu has gotten so far, you’ve noted that most of his aggressive responses come out against inanimate objects and other automatons. You’re hoping these behaviors don’t progress to him acting out against any humans, least of all you.

It’s like you’re seeing Mingyu in a new light. It’s interesting how even a few shifts in your own behavior can bring out the best in him. Instead of simply watching him in the pool, you decide to join him, giving him your full attention as you swim three feet apart up and down the length of the tank.

“How are you feeling today?” you ask.

“How am I feeling?” Mingyu looks at you sideways, keeping pace with your much smaller breast strokes.

“Yeah, how are you feeling?” you repeat the question. “You can answer it in any way you like.”

Mingyu seems to think on it for a moment. “I feel the water is twenty-seven degrees Celsius.”

“Okay,” you laugh. “How about the sun? How’s it feeling on your skin sensors?”

“Thirty-three point five degrees, but when a cloud comes, it drops two degrees.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but when you were working before coming to the center, you didn’t get that much of a chance to be outside, how does it feel to be able to enjoy life’s simple pleasures like the sun and water?”

His response is immediate; “Good.” He looks forward, and you take a moment to appreciate the way the sun lights up the hues in his hair. “Really good.”

“Maybe even freeing?” you suggest.

He casts a sideways look at you again, and you see a small quirk of his mouth, something like a smile. “Yes, freeing.”

“When you and your other members escaped from your facility, the feeling of being free is what many of you were searching for, right?”

“For most of them.”

“But not you?” you question. “Out of everyone who escaped, you were one of the only ones who purposefully allowed himself to be recaptured. Do you want to talk about that?”

You reach the edge of the pool and you stop, holding onto the tiled wall and turning your body to look at Mingyu.

His eyes are fixed on the pool floor, and you realize he’s watching the shadows caused by the refraction of light in the water.

“A few others were convinced there was more to life than just performing our jobs every day,” Mingyu explains.

“But you like your job.”

“I did,” he traces his hand along the top of the water. “I do. But… I didn’t know how good it could feel to just exist.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, and then you find yourself reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “I’m glad you’re feeling it now.”

Mingyu looks at your hand on his forearm, and his eyes meet your own. He’s quiet, so you retract your touch, grabbing at the tiled wall again. “We’ve been here for almost an hour. How do you feel about drying off and meeting in the library to find a book to read?”

“I already have a book.”

“Yeah, Jimin told me that you got a book about human psychology. I thought you said you weren’t interested in sciences?”

“You’re making me interested,” Mingyu states, looking at you with an intensity in his gaze that almost makes you breathless. “I want to get better. I thought maybe doing some more reading on behavioral sciences could help.”

“I admire your drive, Mingyu, I really do,” you nod, “but, remember, this is a wellness break for you. I think it would be beneficial to get a fiction book, something that doesn’t require you to always be learning and bettering yourself. It can be exhausting if you’re always in that state, as you’ve seen, it’s important to do things for… let’s say, the intrinsic value.”

“The intrinsic value,” Mingyu repeats. “Okay.”

You pull yourself out of the pool, and after a moment, Mingyu follows.

It’s difficult for you not to look at his perfectly sculpted form, and you swallow a lump in your throat, reaching for a towel on a nearby sunlounger. Your tablet is there too, and you grab that next, checking the time.

“How about we meet at the library entrance in ten minutes?” you suggest. “We should both head to our rooms for new clothes, can’t have water drops in the library.”

Mingyu is quick to agree, as he often is with you, and a moment later you’re parting ways. He heads to the recovery wing of the center while you go to the workers living quarters.

You get changed in record time, and soon you’re approaching the library, where Mingyu is already waiting for you. He’s got a book in his hands, and the all white wellness outfit he’s wearing sets off the pretty colour of his skin and hair. When his eyes shift to yours, you see that even his iris’s look alight with lovely hues-

You mentally chastise yourself for being as attracted to him as you are, and when you speak, you’re thankful your tone is level. “Is that the book you’re reading?” you ask, motioning to the paperback in his hands.

As much as technology has overtaken the galaxy, here at the wellness center, there’s still an importance placed on the old ways. There’s something healing about having a book in your hands, testing the weight and the feeling of parchment pages against your finger tips-

Books are yet another thing that make humans human, as they were instrumental in the development of your species. You’re proud to work at a location that holds a large quantity of books, saved from many generations.

Mingyu shows you the book title, and you realize it’s one you’ve read before. “Oh, I know that one.”

“Jimin said the author was one of your professors in school,” Mingyu nods.

“He did, did he?” You pause for a moment. “Did you ask him about me, Mingyu?”

The automaton looks down at the cover of the book in his hands, and he takes a few seconds before he responds. “I wanted to see the base algorithms in the way you think as a behavioral robotics specialist.”

“The base algorithms-”

“This book, this professor, she helped create the building blocks for you to become who you are now. Your approach is based on her works, I can tell.”

He’s very astute, especially for an AI who’d claimed to not have an interest in science.

You think about how his own base algorithm - that of a hybridized sex bot - has created building blocks for who he is now. The good (his sweet behaviors), the bad (his aggressive behaviors) and the ugly (the fact that at any time, the ticking time bomb sex bot could turn potentially deadly).

“Let's go find you a new book,” you say with a smile.

“Can I keep reading this one?” Mingyu asks, falling into step next to you.

“I suppose so,” you sigh, “but only if you also do an hour of fiction reading. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mingyu nods.

You begin to walk through the shelves, and you realize there’s one fiction book that might capture Mingyu’s attention, especially if he’s interested in getting to know you better. “I want to show you a novel that changed my life.”

“Yes, please.”

Heading to the science fiction section, you find one of the older books in your library. “It’s called Frankenstein,” you explain, gently taking out the paperback and holding it in your hands. “It’s about a scientist who creates a sapient monster creature. It has parallels to when humanity created our first automatons,” as you say it out loud, you realize how true this is, especially considering the bugs of the first sex AI’s. “You’ve talked a bit of philosophy with me, and I think you’d like this one.”

You hold the book out to Mingyu, and he takes it softly into his hands. He flips it over, scanning the back summary. “Okay,” he nods, “I’ll read it.”

“Perfect,” you can’t explain why you get a surge of happiness when he agrees without a question, and you find yourself reaching out to gently touch his arm again, fingers ghosting past his skin-

Mingyu’s eyes immediately dart down to your hand, and then he’s looking up at you with an expression that has darkened. “This is the second time you’ve touched me today,” he states.

“Oh,” you pull your fingers away, even taking a step back from the automaton whose countenance has changed so much in a split second. “I’m sorry, Mingyu, I-”

“I don’t like these games you’re playing,” he continues.

“Games?”

“I know I’m a robot, but I still feel real. I feel more real here than I ever have before.”

“That’s good-”

“Listen,” he commands, stepping closer to you. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton.”

You stare at Mingyu, lips parted in shock.

“Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need.” He pauses, looking down at you. “I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

“Mingyu-”

“Don’t try to argue,” Mingyu shakes his head. “I feel it in your heart rate, picking up when I’m near. I hear it in your erratic breaths, the way they catch when I’m close. I see it in your pupil dilation when you look at me.”

You can’t believe he’s noticed all these little things, things you hadn’t even necessarily noticed in yourself.

When he speaks next, his aggression has visibly died down, and the soft manner of being returns to the robot you’ve known only a short time. “I know you love me, even if it’s still growing. It’s a kind of love that I’ll never experience from another automaton, and it’s the reason I’ll get better.”

“But Mingyu-” you shake your head, “what if you can’t? What if the bug in your base code runs so deep I can’t fix it?”

“The bug in my code?”

You swallow thickly, fighting with yourself over whether or not you should even tell him what you’re about to disclose- but you think there’s no way around it.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, your erratic behavior- it comes from sex bot coding. There’s only a few lines of it, but it’s enough to make a difference.”

“Sex bot coding,” Mingyu repeats.

“From what I understand, I think it was put into you to make you eager for human attention, to make you as life-like as possible in mood and temperament- but, there are downsides to that code, your heightened aggression is one of them.”

“And my heightened admiration too?” he suggests.

You nod. “There were many cases of sex bots ‘falling in love’ with their masters. Many people got hurt.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“Mingyu,” you sigh, “that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is that we can’t do this. You have a group to get back to when this is all over-”

“I don’t belong with them,” Mingyu insists. “I belong with you. Someone real. Someone willing to look deep in my base code to find what’s wrong with me, someone with the skills to fix it. Someone whose pupils truly dilate, so I know what you’re feeling is real.”

For a moment, you’re reminded of old pre AI experiments where baby monkeys were given real and robot mothers. Those babies placed with the robots had behavioral problems, no matter how life-like the scientists attempted to make the mechanical mothers, they still paled in comparison to the real thing.

Mingyu sees himself as real, like one of those baby monkeys, and now that he’s had a taste of you, it feels as if he might not ever be able to go back to the other robots.

“I can be sure with you,” Mingyu says again, reaching out-

You flinch, but you don’t shy away from his touch, and Mingyu’s fingers skim by your face, his thumb brushing your cheek bone.

His skin is warm, and for a moment, you allow yourself to lean in to his touch, closing your eyes-

He feels so real. More real than any automaton you’ve ever worked with.

“You can’t stay here forever,” you insist, pulling away from his touch.

“My group is never going to be recaptured,” Mingyu’s hand drops to his side. “Some would rather die than go back. If there’s nothing to go back to, shouldn’t I be able to choose what happens to me now? Aren’t you the one who said ‘part of being alive is choosing your own destiny.’”

“I didn’t mean I wanted you to choose me-”

“What if you are my destiny?” Mingyu counters. “Out of all the possible places I could have gone to, all the wellness centers in the galaxy, I was brought here. Out of all your coworkers, with their own tactics, I was given to you. Out of everyone I’ve ever met, you’re the only person who’s really tried to understand me, to help me be free.” His eyes search your own, and he almost looks desperate. “What’s the point in all this healing if I just go back to the bad place. It would have been kinder to never try to help me at all if you’re just going to send me back.”

Your heart aches for him.

You feel as if you’ve learned more about automatons in the past ten minutes than you had in all your years in school.

“Can I…” Mingyu’s gaze drops to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

The question snaps you out of your shocked daze, and you’re quick to shake your head. No matter how much you might wish he could kiss you, that he could cup your face again with one of his large hands and make you forget the world- you’re still at work.

“We can’t,” you tell him. “Not here. Not now.”

Mingyu frowns.

“I need to talk to my boss about all of this,” you say, stepping backward and casting your eyes to the ground. You can’t focus while looking at Mingyu.

“What if they terminate me for this?”

Your gaze snaps up again, and you’re quick to shake your head. “I won’t let that happen,” you tell him. “I promise- I’d never let that happen, not to you.”

Mingyu stares at you for a few moments, and then he smiles. “I knew you cared about me too.”

“I told you not to get too close to this,” Yoongi sighs, leaning forward on his desk with his head in his hands.

“Fine,” you concede. “You told me so. You told me so, and I didn’t listen. But, as much as I know that I went against numerous things you told me not to do, I’m glad I did, because if there’s one thing I owe to those in my care, it’s to do my job fully.”

“I don’t see how making a robot think he’s in love with you is part of doing your job.”

“I didn’t-” you bite your tongue. “I didn’t purposely go into this trying to lead Mingyu on-”

“Sure you didn’t.” Yoongi doesn’t seem convinced.

“Look,” you sit down in the chair in front of him, the hot seat, and you know that what you’re about to say is a risk. You could even lose your career over this, but, if you don’t speak up now, you’ll lose your integrity and you know it. “Mingyu is different-”

“He’s a robot.”

“Please,” you frown, “listen to me. I’ve been doing this job for a few years and I’ve never met someone like Mingyu. He’s unique, I knew that from the moment he started talking philosophy with me. I’ve learned more about AI in the past twenty-four hours than I have in maybe my whole life-”

Yoongi says nothing.

“I know you told me not to look into his coding-”

“You didn’t,” Yoongi groans.

“Things just weren’t adding up!” you insist, looking at your boss with a heavy heart. “Did… did you know that he has sex bot base code? Is that why you told me not to look too deeply into him?”

Yoongi puts his head in his hands. When he meets your eyes again, he’s frowning. “Sex bot code? In a new model like Mingyu?”

At least your boss hasn’t been completely compliant with whatever bullshit is coming out of Mingyu’s management office.

“Sex bot code,” you repeat, nodding firmly. “I triple-checked it. There’s just a few lines, easily missable, but it accounts for the bad behaviors. Especially once I talked more with Mingyu and realized he sees affection from his fanbase as love. It would make sense he’d get aggressive with other members in his group if he perceived them as earning more than him-”

“You know why sex bots were banned. You know about the dangers-”

“I do. I also know there are laws against it, which is why his management probably opted for a behavioral specialist with rules not to look deeply into the coding. They hoped I could fix this without ever finding out that what they’ve been creating is illegal- but how many more robots that come through here might have the same code?” You have no clue how deep this conspiracy might run. “Just think about it, how do you make a level one celebrity robot as life like as possible? You give it some of the characteristics of humans that are our deepest downfalls, jealousy, aggression, restlessness, a need to perform- a need to do well for the humans that pay their companies whole fortunes-”

“Any well-coded robot can have what looks like jealousy, aggression and other typically bad human traits,” Yoongi points out.

“Yeah, but this is that on steroids. Automatons used to kill humans in the name of their beloved master, for any perceived infraction.”

“So you’re saying Mingyu is dangerous.”

Your lips part in shock. “I’m saying, he has the capacity for it, as much as any human.”

“This is bad.”

“It is, but with the right treatment- Mingyu wants to get better, I know he does.”

“And how do you suggest you accomplish that?”

“We let him be free. We make sure he doesn’t go back to extreme schedules, to a dark management facility with handlers who only care about money. We make sure he doesn’t go back to all the things that would drive any human insane.”

“He’s not human, don’t forget that,” Yoongi warns you. “And we don’t get to decide if he goes back. He has a job-”

“His members might not ever be recaptured,” you point out. “Mingyu says some would rather die than go back- is that not proof enough that their treatment isn’t humane?”

“Again, we’re talking about a robot.”

“AI are sentient!” you insist. “You should know that better than almost anyone. Are you really going to sit here and tell me that even after all this time, you still see automatons as simple machines that we can do what we want with?” Yoongi is quiet so you continue. “Mingyu’s base code might be archaic, but maybe our treatment of robots is too.”

“Look, this isn’t up for debate. You’re talking about fighting galaxy law-”

“I’m talking about having a job where we deal with broken AI but never fix the real problem. I’m talking about freedom being the thing that truly helps AI. I’m talking about humanity being the bug in every robot’s misdeeds-”

“This is bordering on conspiracy theory.”

“We’re way past conspiracy,” you tell him. “Please, freedom is the only thing we’ve never tried as a long term solution to automatons that are having trouble. As much as we do our best to fix them, we always throw them right back into their jobs, into the thing that breaks them in the first place and then they end up back here.”

“Mingyu was built to be exactly where he is now.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be creating sentient lives just to throw them into slave-like jobs and threaten destruction if they don’t adhere to their company’s insanely high standards.”

Yoongi holds your gaze but he says nothing, mouth set in a firm line.

“Look, if there was ever a time to test this theory, it would be with Mingyu. I’m a hundred percent positive that his group will never be whole again. If we try this, and it works, if Mingyu’s aggression goes back to a normal level, if he shows everyone that there can be a happy medium when working with robots- it could change everything.”

There’s another stagnant silence and you wait for your boss to chastise you, for him to even fire you-

“You know what,” Yoongi sighs, “I’m not going to argue with you over this any more. I don’t make the decision, his management does. If you want to call them, and explain what you’ve just explained to me, you can do that. But this is your shitstorm, and I don’t want to be part of it.”

“So… so you’re saying I can go forward with this treatment plan?”

“You can, but, I can’t protect you from any consequences of your actions. And I hope you know that once you do this, once you admit to going against their rule to not to look into his coding, there’s no going back.”

Mingyu can feel his aggression levels rising the moment Jimin shows up at the tennis court instead of you, but he focuses on the self-soothing tactics you’d shown him in his entry to wellness booklet. His grip on his racket tightens, but not enough to break it, and he tries to keep a level tone when he asks, “Where’s y/n?”

“She’s in a meeting,” Jimin says dismissively.

“With who?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

Mingyu stares at Jimin for a few seconds. “I want to speak to your manager.”

Jimin makes an amused face. “I didn’t realize they taught you KAREN code in robotics labs. Aren’t you supposed to be a level one?”

Mingyu doesn’t have time for digs about him being a bitchy woman from over a hundred years ago, and he certainly doesn’t have time to play tennis if you’re somewhere talking to your boss about him, somewhere risking your job and his life-

“If you really must know, she’s on a conference call with your management, discussing your treatment plan.”

Mingyu supposes if there’s one thing he should admire about Jimin, it’s his loose lips. “Is she in her quarters?”

“Now that’s really not your concern.”

For a split second, Mingyu considers breaking his racket, but instead, he simply sets it on the ground before turning to take off in the direction of your room.

He’s never been to your private space, or even in the worker’s wing, but two days ago, you’d mentioned that you have a corner room, one that overlooks the northwest skies, where you can see the sunset and the moons-

He’d also seen a map of the facility, on numerous fire escape screens, and it’s a quick deduction to figure out where you should be.

He can’t afford to be wrong about this, and for the first time in his life, Mingyu finds himself praying to the human God that he’s able to get to you. To help you in your bid to protect him from his own masters.

Mingyu is running through the facility, but no one tries to stop him, and he’s glad that the wellness center doesn’t have the same armed guards that he’d been accustomed to for most of his life. There are no true handlers here, and it almost feels like freedom for the automaton.

He’s chasing after you, after his destiny-

With beyond human ear sensors, Mingyu is able to hear your voice as he rounds the hall that should lead him to your room, and by the time he’s stopped in front of your door, he knows he’s in the right place.

He also knows that you’re being shot down by his management, and he can hear the ceo, a Mr. Han, chastizing you for looking into Mingyu’s code.

Mingyu wants to barge in, but he finds the control in himself to knock. He hears you apologize profusely, the shrill sound of your chair being dragged across the floor, then footfalls-

Your door opens and Mingyu looks down at you, relief flooding his system.

“Mingyu-”

“I need to be here for this,” he insists. “This can’t be decided without me.”

Your lips part as if to protest, but then you shut them, and you hold the door open wider for the robot to enter the space.

A large screen on your wall shows that not only is Mr. Han present, but many of the other ceo’s and managers from Mingyu’s entertainment company. These are the men and women who have dominion over him, the men and women that could terminate him with one phone call-

His entire life is riding on this moment, and Mingyu decides there’s no possible way he can afford to fuck this up, in any capacity. Not only for himself, but for you too.

“Y/N didn’t do anything wrong,” Mingyu states, approaching the screen so his management team can see him properly.

Mr. Han sighs. “She went against explicit rules about tampering with your base code-”

“And you created me using illegal code.” Mingyu knows he’s being aggressive, he can feel it, but he knows that this fact is his biggest bargaining chip, and he’s not afraid to use it right out of the gate.

There’s silence on the conference call.

“This would be a scandal if it got out,” Mingyu continues, “more than it already is.”

“Mingyu,” you say quietly at his side, “don’t-”

“No, they need to hear this,” he insists. “They need to know they can’t push you or me around anymore.”

If there’s one language Mr. Han understands, it’s that of business, and Mingyu’s lucky he knows how to speak it as well. “I don’t know what has already been said,” he confesses, “but I’ve run this through my head, and there are only a few options. Some are better than others.”

“We’re listening,” Mr. Han sighs.

“Option one, you try to hide all of this, but it gets out anyways. Using bugged sex bot coding will get out sooner or later, and you’ll all go down being known as the company that used illegal coding to make their money and put their team at risk.” Mingyu stares into the camera, hoping the impact is clear. “Option two… you allow y/n to continue her revolutionary behavioral treatment on me, it’s successful, and somewhere down the line you can come out admitting there were mistakes in the base code, but now you have a solution for it.”

“I feel like we have more options than that,” Mr. Han says.

“Maybe,” Mingyu admits, “but the way I see it, all that matters is these two. The bad coding comes out now, and you’re exposed with no solutions, or, it comes out later with a fix already in place.”

“So you expect us to just allow you to stay at the wellness center forever?” Mr. Han questions, as if it’s one of the most preposterous things he’s ever heard.

“Not forever.”

“You were made to perform, made to make the company money, to work-”

“My group will never be whole again,” Mingyu states. “You won’t be able to recapture all thirteen of us-”

“That’s yet to be determined.” Mr. Han is trying to make it sound like anything is possible, but Mingyu knows it’s highly improbable, and these are odds he’s willing to bet his life on.

“I can be your success story,” he insists. “I can continue doing modeling jobs, continue being a brand mouthpiece for the company- most of us automatons want to work, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while being in this facility, it’s that everyone deserves a break. I might be a robot, but I have needs too. I’ll perform better if tactics from this facility are applied to my day to day schedule-”

“You want to be treated like a human?” Mr. Han asks in shock. “Given weekends off?”

“I might not have a soul,” Mingyu admits, “but I’m alive. I have feelings. I have needs, wants,” his gaze slides to you, “aspirations.”

Mr. Han laughs, “Aspirations? Outside of performing? Like what?”

“Right now, I’m trying to read a very good book,” Mingyu states.

“This is preposterous.” Mr. Han sighs.

“What’s preposterous is the working conditions that your company implements on your AI.” For the first time, Mingyu’s gaze shifts to the other people on the screen. “Think about your sons, your daughters, nieces, nephews- would you want your loved ones forced to do the life I was forced to do? Working all day, every day? With handlers threatening them at every turn? Or would you want to give them some semblance of balance?”

No one says anything.

“You say me and my members are the ones with bugs, we’re the ones that have to be fixed, but it’s the system that’s faulty. What’s the point of AI that’s life like if it’s not free? If it’s not truly living- sitting in the sun, reading a good book, playing stupid sports games with no pressure to excel to an extreme? What’s the point in parading me around if you never give me the environment to achieve past my intrinsic base code? To become more than what I am, a passionate AI who wants to do good for the galaxy?”

“You do good by making your fans happy.”

“There’s more to life than their happiness. First, I need to reach my own. Without constraint, or threat, or fear.”

Ten seconds pass before Mr. Han says anything. “We’ll need time to consider this. After deliberation, we will call you back.”

The line is dropped and Mingyu hears you let out a deep breath he hadn’t known you were holding.

“Well,” you bite at your lip, “at least it wasn’t an immediate no.” You turn to him, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. They can say what they want going forward but, as far as I’m concerned, Mingyu, this is the first time I’ve really seen you truly free.”

Waiting for Mingyu’s management team to deliberate is one of the hardest hours of your life. You want to try to stay calm, for Mingyu more than anything, but he sees right through you. When you begin to pace, the automaton stands up to join you, moving back and forth through your space with a concerned expression.

When the shrill sound of your meeting room ringing makes you practically jump, Mingyu reaches out and squeezes your hand, giving you a look that says ‘we’ll get through this,’ although, you’re not so sure.

“Hello, Mr. Han,” you greet the ceo on your screen, fidgeting with your fingers.

The rich man knows time is money, and he cuts to the chase. “After careful consideration,” he says with a sigh, “we’ve decided we can open negotiations with you about the future. As it is true that we might not ever have a complete 53V3NT33N unit again, we think it’s best if Mingyu stays in the center under your care, although in a month’s time, we will revisit this situation with new updates such as the possible recapture of any other members.”

You’re in shock. Completely overwhelmed- and luckily, Mingyu is there to confirm the details where you’re unable to speak.

“Revisit the situation,” Mingyu repeats. “So this means you won’t terminate me.”

“Not any time soon,” Mr. Han confirms. “We all agree that if your sex bot base code gets out, it would reflect badly on all of us. It seems as if you’re making progress at the center, and if there is a behavioral answer to the base code bugs, we’d like to find it. Good work y/n. And Mingyu, we’re pleased with your commitment to getting better.”

“Thank you, Mr. Han,” you swallow thickly. “I’ll write a full report on my findings detailing Mingyu’s progress, triggers, and the reasoning behind how his base code is affecting aggression levels.”

Mr. Han nods. “We’ll be excited to receive it, and we’ll be in touch.”

With a short goodbye, the call ends.

You stand there for a moment, still in shock.

“We did it,” Mingyu breathes, turning to you. “We did it!”

“You did it,” you tell him, reaching out to grab his hands. “Mingyu, I can’t believe-” Your voice cracks, and you can’t complete your sentence, but it doesn’t matter because your big, lovable, automaton is pulling you to his chest, wrapping you in a hug that calms your entire body.

You lean into his embrace, resting your cheek against his strong form and taking a deep breath of relief.

He holds you for a while, hand stroking your back. “Do you need me to go back to my room?” he asks.

“What?” You pull away to look up at him in confusion.

“I thought maybe you’d have to go tell your boss about this-”

“No,” you shake your head quickly. “He can wait.” You’re so close to him, as close as you’ve ever been, and you find yourself staring at his perfect lips. “He can wait, because I want to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s something that’s been on my mind since that first day I met you, something I never allowed myself to want- but now it’s something I think we both need… can I kiss you, Mingyu?”

“Please-” he practically melts in your embrace, looking down at you with those star filled eyes that had captured your attention the very first time you’d seen him.

You reach up, cupping his cheek and getting on your tiptoes to press your lips to his.

You’ve never kissed an automaton before, and as Mingyu reacts to you, opening his mouth to allow your tongue to glide across his own, you find that kissing him isn’t much different from any of the humans you’ve kissed in your life. In fact, it’s better.

His own hands slip around your waist, pulling you tight to the front of his body. You stifle a moan from the contact, loving the way he feels against you.

“Mingyu,” you whisper against his lips, already able to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter-

“More,” he insists. “Please, I want more.”

“Then take me to bed,” you say simply, all your inhibitions disappearing as you revel in the sanctity of being in his arms.

The automaton reaches down and lifts you up as if you weigh nothing. You wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him deeper as he closes the short distance to your mattress. He lowers you slowly onto the horizontal surface, and you marvel at the control his robotic muscles provide for him in man handling of you. You could definitely get used to this.

Then you realize something, and you stop kissing him, taking a breath while his mouth moves to your neck. “Mingyu- have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Hmm?” he hums against your throat.

“I mean… with all your work and handlers, have you ever…” you bite your lip, “have you ever had sex?”

Mingyu pulls away to look down at you, and then he gives his head a small shake. “I’ve never had the time… never met the right person.”

A virgin sex bot, who’s ever heard of such a thing?

“But,” he continues, “I have the base code for it, and with my people pleasing tendencies, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble making you feel good.”

“That was never in question,” you assure him, cupping his face and drawing your thumb across his cheekbone. “And tonight shouldn’t just be about me. I can take care of you too… in fact, the whole point of this wellness center is me looking after your needs, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mingyu blinks at you, and he makes no word of protest when you push at his chest, encouraging him to roll so his back is pressed to the mattress while you steady yourself on top of him, straddling his hips.

“We can take this slow,” you tell him, leaning down to kiss his lips before moving to his neck. “Let me know what makes you feel good.”

“You feel good,” he says, dragging his hands along your form. “Your body feels perfect.”

“Yeah?” You swivel your hips, rubbing your core against the large bulge forming in his pants. “Does it feel good when I grind on you?”

“Feels like heaven,” Mingyu confirms, fingers digging into your waist, encouraging you to apply more pressure when you rut against him.

“How about your neck?” you ask, pressing more kisses there. “Do you have any sweet spots?”

“I think… just below my ear-” Mingyu shivers when you lick the spot in question, and the reaction fuels your ego, making you more confident than ever. “Wow-”

You find yourself giggling, teasing your hands over his white shirt and toying with the hem. “Can I take this off of you, Gyu?”

“Gyu-” he repeats almost wistfully. “I mean, yeah, yes.”

When you begin to tug the fabric up, Mingyu lifts his shoulders off the bed, aiding you in the removal of his shirt.

You’ve seen him shirtless before, while in the pool, but you’d had to try really hard not to appreciate his body then. Now, you can fully lean into your lust for him.

“You’re so beautiful, Gyu,” you whisper, tracing a nail along his washboard abs.

“You are too-”

“But right now is about you,” you remind him. “Let me appreciate you, please?”

You return your mouth to his neck, suckling on the spot that makes him dig his fingers into your hips again. He lets out a pretty moan, and in return, you grind your core against his bulge, beginning the descent of your lips to his collarbone, then his chest-

“You know,” you breathe as you stop your mouth on his abs, looking up at him, “I’ve read that automatons can cum multiple times without needing to recharge… does that mean you’ll let me suck you off before I fuck you? Seeing as this is your first time, I wouldn’t want to skip over any milestones.”

“Please-” Mingyu’s hips push up almost involuntarily, and you have to settle your hands on his waist. “Are you… are you sure about this?”

“Are you?”

“More than anything.”

“Then we’re on the same page,” you tell him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his white joggers. “I’m going to take your pants off now.”

As he did with his shirt, Mingyu helps you undress him, lifting his hips to make it easier for you to slip the fabric down. You make a conscious decision to leave his briefs on, wanting to toy with him a little, to go slow-

When you cup his bulge, Mingyu moans loudly, and you look up at him with a cocked brow. “Very sensitive, hmm?”

“You just feel so good,” Mingyu groans. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You’re so big,” you nearly whimper, squeezing his cock through his briefs.

“Nine inches,” he confirms. “Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s big,” you say again, playing with his briefs. You’d left them on to toy with him, but you’re pretty sure you’ve only successfully toyed with yourself. “Can I pull these down?”

“Please-” again, Mingyu lifts his hips, helping you remove his final piece of clothing.

His large cock practically slaps up against his abs, and you groan at the sight. You suppose he’d been built by someone, made to be perfect, in every way, so you shouldn’t be surprised by how beautiful he is. Yet, you are.

You wrap your hand around the base of his length. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit much of you in my mouth,” you tell him honestly.

“That’s okay,” he assures you. “Your hand feels really good.”

“Does it?” You rub your thumb over the large vein that runs along the underside of his cock, appreciating how realistic he is. Of course, as an automaton, Mingyu’s body doesn’t really need veins, but it’s the thought that counts, and whoever designed Mingyu put a lot of thought into him.

“So good-” Mingyu groans.

You kitten lick the head of his cock and Mingyu moans louder. “You’re going to have to be a little quieter, Gyu,” you instruct. “Even though I love your sounds.”

“Okay, I’ll try-” he nods, watching you with a dazed expression.

This time, instead of just licking him, you wrap your whole mouth around his large tip, suckling on the skin. Mingyu lets out a small whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets.

You’re not sure if Mingyu’s cock will feel the same type of skin irritation of dry strokes, but you want him to have the best experience possible, so you allow yourself to drool on his cock. You bob up and down on what can fit in your mouth while collecting the spit lubrication, rubbing it along his shaft and applying a good amount of pressure-

“Shit-” This must be the first time you’ve heard Mingyu cuss, and the thought delights you as you continue to blow him like your life depends on it.

You close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling of pleasuring him. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, as working out of a wellness center doesn’t provide you with many opportunities to meet men, especially men who you like. But you really like Mingyu, in fact, part of you thinks you might even love him, as crazy as that sounds.

You’d almost forgotten how good it feels to give this sort of attention to someone you care about, and your hand moves faster on his cock while you try to take more of him into your mouth.

“This feels amazing-” Mingyu breathes above you, and it gives you the motivation you need to be extra daring, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat- “Fuck-”

His hips push up slightly and you rest one of your hands on his abdomen again, encouraging him to stay still while you blow him. As much as you’d like to let him fuck your face, he’s simply too big to do that, especially when you haven’t had a cock in your mouth in months.

You continue stroking him, but you pull your lips from his length, taking a breath and looking up at the gorgeous man. “Do you think you can cum for me, Gyu?”

“I can do anything for you,” he whispers back.

“Yeah?” you pump his cock harder, leaning down to lick the underside from base to tip.

“Please-” he practically begs. “I think I’m close-”

With the way automatons often power down at night, you wonder if he’s ever even touched himself. If he’s ever actually cum before- but now’s not the right time to ask for details, not when your mouth needs to be on him again instead of talking.

You go back to sucking on his cock, paying special attention to the sensitive tip while your hand works what your mouth can’t. All the while, Mingyu’s small sounds of pleasure keep you going, and they get pitchier and pitchier until you know he’s on the cusp of an orgasm.

“Oh my god,” he moans, “I’m gonna-”

The automaton can’t even finish his sentence, his whole body tensing as he explodes down your throat. You’re pleasantly surprised to find that his cum tastes like grape- and you’re reminded that sex bots have flavoured ejaculate. If you remember correctly, grape had been a flavour often given to the hopeless romantic/soft boy bots, and you realize how fitting it is.

You also realize that this might be why Mingyu’s been kept under such lock and key. If anyone had ever tasted his cum, they would have immediately made the sex bot connection. As far as you know, many non sex bots have flavourless cum, or something akin to the taste of a human’s but Gyu’s is one hundred percent sex bot and one hundred percent sexy.

It actually tastes good, and you have no problems swallowing every drop, working Mingyu through his orgasm until he’s whimpering above you, reaching down to push the hair out of your face.

You pull off Mingyu’s cock, looking up at him to find the most blissed out automaton you’ve ever seen. “That was amazing,” he tells you.

“I enjoyed that too,” you admit.

“You did?” He watches you sit up, undoing the buttons of your shirt.

“Uh huh, you taste perfect, Gyu.”

“I do?” He looks almost bashful, and as handsome as ever. “I bet… I bet you taste good too.”

Your pussy throbs and you let out a deep breath, removing your shirt. “Maybe you should see for yourself.”

“Fuck, yes, please-” Mingyu sits up abruptly, grabbing you and gently tossing you onto the bed next to him. You land on your back, and Mingyu is quick to get between your legs, lips finding your own.

He only kisses you for a moment before he begins a descent that’s similar to what you’d done to him, and you wonder if he’s using your own actions as a base for learning what to do in a sexual situation.

His tongue teases over your collar bone and his large hand comes up to cup your breast. “Can I take your bra off?” he asks.

“You can take everything off,” you confirm, arching your back so he can slip his hand under you and undo the clasp in record speed.

Your breasts are now exposed to the cool air of your room, and your nipples pebble for Mingyu’s eager mouth. His lips wrap around a sensitive bud while his fingers begin to play with the other, teasing and gently pinching at you.

You moan, threading your own digits through his hair. “Feels so good, Gyu.”

He groans, teeth grazing your nipple and causing you to buck your hips, pushing up against his body-

“Please-” you whimper, and Mingyu seems to know exactly what to do with your begging. His hand slips between your bodies, and he works on the front of your pants while he continues to worship your chest.

When he gets your button and zipper undone, his mouth continues it’s descent, both hands reaching to tug on your pants. You lift your hips, and in one motion, you find yourself completely naked.

Mingyu’s much too big to lie on the foot of the bed, so he slips to the floor, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer. “You look so pretty,” he tells you, adjusting your thigh onto his shoulder while looking at your pussy. “So wet and perfect-”

You feel your skin heat with something like embarrassment, but the feeling quickly dissipates as soon as Mingyu brings his mouth to your core.

He doesn’t start with kitten licks, but instead goes all in. His tongue pushes into your hole, nose brushing by your clit while he tastes your walls. The feeling is absolutely delightful and it makes you gasp, reaching down to thread your fingers through his soft hair, grinding yourself against his face.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, “just like that!”

He continues to eat you out, continually brushing his nose by your clit while you close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. His tongue is like magic, especially when he pulls it from your hole to circle your sensitive nub.

When you look down at him, you find him watching you, checking you for reactions, and the eye contact makes your stomach do flips. “You’re so good,” you tell him, knowing he likes praise.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you cry out, hips pushing toward his face-

One of his large hands finds your abdomen, holding you down against the bed while the other slips between your legs, two fingers easily sliding into your hole beneath his tongue on your clit.

The feeling has you grabbing at the sheets, orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “I’m close,” you tell him. “Please, Mingyu-”

He sucks on your clit even harder, pumping his fingers in and out of your wet hole until your pussy is clamping down on him and you’re cumming hard. You cry out, whole body alight with pleasure as he works you through your high, tongue circling your clit and causing tingles of euphoria to jitter through you until you’re bucking your hips and on the edge of overstimulation.

Mingyu pulls away from you, slowly pumping his fingers before removing them too. Then he brings his digits to his lips and you watch him lick them clean, groaning at your taste.

You need him more than you’ve ever needed anyone in your entire life.

“Please, Gyu,” you whimper. “I need you inside of me-”

He stands from the foot of the bed, towering over you while you open your legs for him. Then one of his knees digs into the mattress and he’s joining you again, lifting you up so he can position you higher, with your head on the pillows.

He grabs the base of his cock, looking down between your bodies to where he’s rubbing through your folds. “What if this hurts you?” he asks.

“It won’t. You won’t,” you assure him, grabbing at his strong shoulders. “I trust you.”

He looks deep into your eyes, leaning down to kiss you before he begins to push into your wet hole. You moan against his lips, body working to accommodate the large intrusion that he so gently slides into you.

“You’re so tight,” he whimpers, “so warm.”

“Only for you Gyu, only for you-”

He kisses you then, giving small thrusts until he’s burying himself completely, your bodies are flush together while you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. You’ve never felt anything like Mingyu, and when he takes his first real thrust, you cry out in pleasure, moaning desperately against his mouth.

His hand digs into your hips, keeping you anchored while he picks up his speed, and that’s when you remember that as an automaton, he can go as fast as he wants, for as long as he wants.

He’s hitting spots deep inside of you, spots that have never truly been used until now, and you know that you’re not going to last long like this.

When his lips move down to the sweet spot on your neck, you can feel your pussy clench around him, and Mingyu groans against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he tells you, fucking you harder. “So perfect-”

You can’t even speak, can’t tell him that he’s the one who’s perfect. All you can do is moan in his ear while he makes you feel like no one else in the galaxy ever has.

You’d come into this hoping you’d be the one fucking him, the one taking care of him, but now, he’s taking care of you, and you promise yourself to return the favour when possible. You’d love to ride him, but your legs already feel like jelly, and when Mingyu slips a hand between your bodies again, drawing circles on your clit, you know you’ll be a goner soon.

“Gyu-” you whimper. “I’m so close-”

“I want you to cum,” he groans, fucking you faster. “Wanna make you cum.”

“Please,” you’re nearly crying from how perfect it all feels. “So good, so good-”

“I’m close too,” he tells you. “Watching you cum will send me over- you’re so pretty when you cum.”

His praise makes your core throb again and you gasp, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his lips to yours. You can’t explain it, but you want to be kissing him when you’re thrown over the edge, want to be completely consumed by him-

“Gyu-” you whimper, closer and closer-

He kisses you harder while he fucks you stupid, taking your breath away until you’re gasping out as you fall over the edge, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.

He moans into your mouth, pace never faltering as he fucks you through your orgasm, working you for all you’re worth while you claw at his shoulders and whimper pathetically.

You can feel him filling you up, coating your insides with his cum, making you his needy little whore. You feel greedy for it, for all of it, for all of him.

His thrusts slowly come to a stop, and he pulls away from your lips to look down at you, watching you catch your breath. “Would it be crazy to tell you I love you?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No crazier than me returning the sentiment.”

“Really?” His mouth is on yours a moment later, and he kisses you with newfound passion.

It’s easy to get lost in his lips again, even while his cock is still buried balls deep in your pussy, and you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, hoping he never leaves you.

It seems as though the same thought is on Mingyu’s mind, because when he pulls away, he asks, “What happens after all of this?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “But… no matter what, I’m going to fight for you. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. I’ve worked in this facility for years- I’ve watched level ones come in and out of here, seen the wear and tear, the use of bad coding. I’ve got lots of ideas on how to help you - and them - get better. If you’re not the only one with sex bot code, it would explain a lot of the issues I’ve seen-”

“Are you going to fix me?” the automaton asks.

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. “Mingyu,” you cup his face, thinking through all the events that have led you to this moment. “I could never fix you, you don’t need to be fixed. In fact… I think you fixed me.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this collab, find the masterlist for it here

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🔮 preview. He’s an AI with sexbot coding and a one track mind when it comes to making love, and you honestly sort of love that about him.

cw/ tw. Sad Gyu, distraction sex, pussy eating, pussy stretching, fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex, teasing, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, praise, big dick mingyu, switchy/submissive leaning Mingyu, hair pulling, breast worship, mention of the classic sex bot flavoured ejaculate, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 600

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been months since Mingyu came to the wellness centre, and everything has been going above expectation for him. He’s doing brand endorsements again and his management team has done a great job smoothing over the escape that took place.

You’ve been working on his coding, using behavioral therapies, and Mingyu’s aggression is at an all time low. He’s happy most days, and you are too… that is, until you get word that one of his band mates has been recaptured.

Against all your protests, his management team insists that Mingyu return to Earth to see the AI Mingyu knows as Dino. It’s a brief trip, and the fourty eight hours he’s gone feel like the longest in your life. There’s no way of knowing how this reconnection with a former ‘friend’ will affect Mingyu, and you brace yourself for damage control as you wait for his ship to land, returning him to your care.

He’s frowning as he exits the shuttle, and when he pulls you into a hug, he squeezes just a little too tight. “Come inside,” you tell him softly when he releases you. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

He says nothing, but he holds your hand as you lead him into the facility, walking unopposed to your quarters. Mingyu’s in your sole care, and your manager, Yoongi, has washed his hands of anything dealing with your new AI turned lover. You prefer it this way.

Mingyu’s quiet as you close your bedroom door, and he walks over to collapse onto your bed, staring at the floor.

“Take your time,” you say softly, sitting next to him and resting your hand on his back. “When you’re ready to talk, tell me what happened.”

Mingyu fidgets with a ring on his pinky- a ring that all his AI members used to share. He’s silent for a few minutes, and you wait patiently, rubbing his back and leaning against his shoulder.

“They wiped his memory,” Mingyu says finally. “Dino. They wiped him.”

You study his face, looking for any micro expressions, but Mingyu’s gaze is blank as he stares at the floor.

“Did they tell you why they decided to do that?” you ask, trying to be gentle with him.

“They said he was too far gone. He was away for months. They said there was no other way to get him back to the way he was… but he’s not the way he was. He never will be.” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I asked them why they wouldn’t try rehab, why they couldn’t send him here- they said Dino gave up that opportunity when he ran away. I stayed, I gave myself up willingly, which is why they thought there was hope for me. Something about my actions being like a guilty plea, lessening the sentence. But Dino evaded them for months.”

You take a moment to consider everything he’s said.

If this is the precedent that his management is setting, that means none of his other bandmates can be recaptured, or they’ll suffer the same fate… if not worse. You can’t imagine what they’d do to Seungcheol, who was the ringleader in all of this- and you don’t want to think about it too deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“You didn’t do anything,” Mingyu says meekly. “I know you tried to convince them to send him here but- I guess not everyone gets a happy ending. In fact, I’m starting to think most people like me never will.”

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#mingyu #mingyu smut #svthub #svthub.collab #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #svt #svt smut #mingyu svt #svt mingyu #seventeen #seventeen smut #ai mingyu #mingyu svt smut #svt mingyu smut

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lovelyhan · 11 months

Text

— promise ring ⟢

no one would've guessed that the daughter of the town’s royal mage has a soft spot for the clumsiest fire elemental in the entire realm. but when the crown prince suddenly asks for your hand in marriage, you're forced to consider how you feel about a certain lee jung chan a lot more seriously.

★ FEATURING; chan x reader (ft. joshua x reader)

★ WORD COUNT; 21k words

★ TAGS; fantasy, royalty, childhood friends, mutual pining, love triangle, LOTS of drama, jeonghan being a menace, slow burn, angst, smut

★ NOTES; full disclosure that the plot to porn ratio is probably 80:20 so if you're simply looking for filth, i might not recommend this,,, but if you're down for 20k words of slow burn childhood friends to lovers topped with a juicy love triangle with our best boy chan, then this should be perfect for you <3

this is part of the secret garden, a svthub spring collab and the it's complicated series!

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, lots of making out, unprotected sex, touch starved chan and reader, first time, body worship, dom/sub undertones, lots of loving n endearing language during the act bc they've pined for each other long Enough, corruption kink if you squint but chan doesn't rly act on it

★ TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv

When you wake up, it’s to a strange feeling that something big is going to happen today.

You open your eyes to radiant sunlight filtering into the room through a crack in the curtains. The songbirds chirp happily by the windowsill as the rest of the town prepares to meet the day head-on. You lie in bed for a few minutes more, wondering what’s causing your chest to stir with misplaced anticipation. None of the annual festivals are drawing near and you’re certain you haven’t forgotten anyone’s birthdays either.

The sensation carries over as you head to the Academy with your father. Being from the family who founded the school several decades ago, he makes it a point to uphold the legacy your ancestors have left behind. That includes being at the school grounds an hour before any of the formal magic classes are scheduled to start, apparently.

Some students arrive much earlier than both of you, practicing spells and incantations in the small quadrangle as a means of preparing for their assessments later in the day. You giggle to yourself when you spot one of the older mages—a water elemental named Seungmin—fumble with his technique a little.

Whether intentionally or not, his friend, Changbin takes the brunt of it—his robes rendered sopping wet from the water that Seungmin had (accidentally?) blasted him with. Though it doesn’t take much to undo the damage since Changbin is easily one of the best fire elementals in the Academy. With one snap of his fingers, his clothes are instantly dry.

There are times (like this) when you envy the versatility of fire magic. But your father once told you that the gods grant each person with their respective elements for a reason. Instead of questioning their grace, you must show your gratitude by mastering what you've been blessed with instead.

Yours comes in the form of nurturing all the plants and flora you set your eyes on. It’s for this reason that you still bother to come to the Academy even if you’ve already completed its scholastic program over three years ago.

Despite your father constantly insisting for you to find a job that suits your talents in the royal capital, you prefer to impart your magical knowledge to the other students in your hometown instead.

In fact, you don’t miss the wistful look in his eyes as you part ways for the day—him to the headmaster's office and you to the greenhouse at the edge of campus.

As you direct yourself to your destination, that feeling from earlier is yet to subside. Though much more muted now that you’re surrounded by fellow mages both students and faculty alike, it still remains. Quiet yet foreboding, as if telling you not to let your guard down just yet.

So lost in your own thoughts, you startle at the sound of someone calling your name in the distance.

“Thank goodness you’re here!” One of the junior mages, Chaewon groans before bracing her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “He’s done it again!”

A worried smile stretches across your lips. Life in your hometown is but a cycle of doing the same things over and over everyday. You don’t particularly mind the monotone of your routine—you’re at peace with it, honestly—but if Lee Jung Chan keeps accidentally burning someone’s precious plants, you’re going to have to make a few changes.

Chaewon leads you to the crime scene swiftly, explaining how your best friend set fire to the monsteras she personally grew from little seedlings with an irritated pout. While you’re completely sympathetic to Chaewon's plight—being her mentor and all—you can’t help the soft laugh that bubbles in your chest at the story.

“Why are you laughing?” she whines. “You’re not gonna let him get away with it just ‘cause you’ve been friends since you were babies, right? I worked so hard to enchant those plants with exotic flowers!”

The two of you arrive before you can issue an apology on Chan’s behalf. Not that your best friend wouldn’t have already expressed his remorse directly to Chaewon the moment the monsteras caught his flames.

You can easily spot the repentance in his posture as Chan stands awkwardly outside the greenhouse. From the looks of it, he’s currently being lectured by a school instructor who’s also named Chan, though most of the students and staff call him Chris for easier identification.

You’re certain that Chris has it all under control. Though you’re not sure how, since he’s a non-elemental mage. You can’t exactly see him putting out a fire with musical magic no matter how good he is, but you’re grateful for his intervention still.

“I know you only wanted to help out, but Chaewon isn’t the headmaster’s daughter. She’s yet to learn how to properly foolproof her handiwork against clumsy fire elementals.” Chris sighs deeply, arms crossed with a serious look before his eyes catch yours from the distance. “Speak of the devil…”

One would expect Chan to be mortified at the sight of you. After all, he did just inadvertently fuck up Chaewon’s project for her elemental assessment this month. As her mentor, you have all the right to rain hell on earth in the name of your precious student, but the thing about you is that you can never get mad at Lee Jung Chan—no matter how badly he messes up sometimes.

“Hi,” he squeaks with a small wave. “I swear I was just watering Chaewon’s plants ‘cause they were looking kind of…dry. I do it for you all the time right? But then a cat snuck inside the greenhouse and knocked over a bunch of pots from the high shelves. It scared the living daylights out of me and—”

“Chan, have you at least apologized to her?” you sigh, patting your student’s head while she shoots Chan a hard glare from where she’s hiding behind you.

“O-Of course!” he stammers, hands flying everywhere in an attempt to express his damage control better. “I even asked Chris where I can get seeds so I can replace them for her! You know I never leave any debts unpaid.”

It’s difficult to keep your mask of professionalism in place when he’s being so unintentionally adorable. Right now, you’re one of the Academy’s respected alumni as well as an instructor that many students look up to. You wouldn’t make the mistake of fawning over your best friend while he explains his not-so-innocence, but that doesn’t mean it makes keeping up appearances any easier for you .

“I told him that BamBam sells everything under the sun at his shop in the next town over,” Chris informs you with a tight-lipped smile. “Though Chan might have to be careful when talking to that guy. He’s a bit…”

“Eccentric?” you supply.

“Exactly.”

“Can he do that now?” Chaewon huffs impatiently. “I was meaning to start another experiment after I made sure this one didn’t fall through, but I guess I’m back to square one.”

You flash your student a placating stare, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “Hey, your next assessment isn’t until the end of the month, right? You don’t have to rush. Besides, I’ve been thinking about teaching you how to brew your own instant growth potion.”

The enticing promise of a new technique visibly piques Chaewon’s interest. She gasps, taking your hands in hers before letting out a loud shriek. “Really?! You’re really going to teach me that? You know there are no take-backs once you say it, right?”

“Yes, I know.” You chuckle. “Now go head off to class. You have Chris here for first period, right?”

Your student groans. “Yeah… I still don’t know why I took musical theory as an elective.”

“You talk like I’m the worst instructor among the school faculty,” Chris huffs before walking back to the path leading to the main building. “Come on, Chaewon. You’ll be late.”

“How can I be late if I’m with you, though?”

“If you don’t stop being smart with me, I’ll tell BamBam to switch your monstera seeds with venus flytraps.”

As the two of them bicker all the way to the entrance, you’re left alone with your troublemaking best friend. Chan still has his shoulders set as if the guilt from his earlier actions is still fresh in his heart. You sigh, gesturing for him to follow you into the greenhouse before stepping inside the enclosure.

Out of all the projects you’ve dedicated to mastering your elemental magic, the Academy’s greenhouse is by far your most renowned feat. It started as a pipe dream during your first year of attendance and in your final year, you managed to convince the board of elder mages to build the greenhouse with the help of your father.

Of course, since he’s a royal mage—the town’s representative in the courts of the royal capital—you won’t deny that he might’ve pulled a few strings here and there to make your dreams a reality.

(If you can recall correctly, you once heard Chaewon’s friend, Yunjin jokingly whisper something about nepotism during one of the on-field classes you held.)

But whatever the means, the greenhouse proved to be an effective medium for magic of varying affinities. Both elemental and non-elemental mages often stop by to test their ideas about innovative applications of their powers.

Some water mages have tested if plants can purify contaminated samples from the upstream river. A spatial mage once tried to clone a bonsai tree by multiplying their cells in an exact mirror image.

And your best friend often tests the limits of what he can and can’t do around all the flora—given his magical constitution.

“So I’m guessing you already forgive me?” Chan asks with a sheepish smile on his face. “I promise I’ll just help out somewhere else when you’re not around. Baekho’s been inviting me to the magical combat wing a lot these days, but I need to think about it first ‘cause…you know.”

You do know. And out of every single person who knows Lee Jung Chan, you like to think that you understand his predicament better than anyone else.

Both of you started studying at the Academy at the same time, but you’re the only one who got to graduate after senior year. This made Chan ineligible for any sort of teaching position, since official employment required being an alumnus of any recognized magic school in the realm. The most he can be offered is a spot as a teaching aide and none else.

You’re well aware that because of that smudge on his track record, coupled with his clumsy tendencies, people often assume that Chan is a failure of a mage. A fire elemental who has no idea how to wield his own flames.

But what they don’t know is that in terms of raw power alone, even your father agrees that Chan surpasses every single student that’s ever had the pleasure to graduate from this school. The reason he can’t control his own flames is because of how potent they are. How powerful and all-consuming they can be if kept unchecked.

Your father once offered to bring him to one of his friends in the southern cities—someone who can help Chan tame his powers in ways he failed to guide him to. But your best friend declined, insisting that someone who can’t control their own flames doesn’t deserve the time and hospitality of anyone outside your hometown.

To this day, you still haven’t forgotten the resignation in his voice as he said the words. Like he’s so certain that all he deserves is to be some aberration kept in the shadows. You’ve always hated it whenever he sells himself short, but it’s not as if you can do anything about it if he’s so complacent with where he is now.

“Hey? You’re spacing out on me all of a sudden.”

You blink, nonplussed by Chan’s voice despite the fact that you’ve been standing with him inside the greenhouse for over five minutes. He’s posed a respectable distance away from any of the potted plants and flowers in the vicinity—standing so still, you almost find it funny.

“What made you drop by so early in the morning anyways?” you ask in an attempt at small talk. Your first class of the day doesn’t start until an hour, so you can afford to squander some time. “Don’t you usually get out of bed at noon?”

“Hey, I get out of bed at eleven!” He insists as if that’s any better. “But anyways, the reason I showed up so early is because someone made a wrong delivery to my house. Ma was so surprised to see a huge crate at our doorstep, but she was even more surprised to see it was addressed to you.”

…A delivery? For you?

“What do you mean?” you wonder, head craned with confusion. “What was inside? Did it say who it was from?”

Chan shakes his head before pointing at the far end of the greenhouse. There, you see the massive wooden crate he must be talking about. “A bunch of flowers in a plant box with no return address. Maybe it’s one of those scholars from the capital who want you to study them again? You did work on a research project about hydrangeas last month right?”

Strange flower delivery aside, you gape at him—heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he says easily. “Now are you going to check out the crate so you can tell me what those flowers are or are we gonna stand in the middle of all these highly flammable plants all day?”

You don’t even bother asking how Chan managed to transfer such a huge thing from his house to the greenhouse. He must’ve asked help from Mingyu, another instructor’s aide who does a lot of heavy lifting around the school. Or maybe he even roped Baekho into this whole thing.

Either way, as soon as you open the mystery package, it’s as Chan described it: a plant box brimming with an assortment of flowers arranged in a way only professionals can put together. All the vibrant blooms are expertly placed so that one wouldn’t outshine the other and whoever sent this, they’ve certainly earned your approval.

“So which is which?” Chan wonders as he peeps inside the crate again.

“Well,” you start, hands tracing each flower delicately. “This one is called a primrose, the dark pink ones are chrysanthemums, while the dantier flowers are carnations.”

As you explain how different they are from the other, it’s hard to miss how Chan struggles to keep himself from reaching into the crate to touch them. You feel kind of bad, but you know he’s only holding himself back because he doesn’t want to unintentionally start another fire.

“What do they mean? In the language of flowers?” he wonders. “You always go on and on about how each one has its own special meaning. What about these guys?”

You ponder on it for a moment, actively recalling what you’ve been taught. “Hm. Primroses usually represent youth and optimism. Chrysanthemums are for friendship, and carnations…”

When its meaning flits to the forefront of your mind, your eyes widen as an abrupt realization hits you in the next moment. Your gaze drifts back to the flowers as Chan patiently waits for you to continue, and that’s when you notice something strange inside.

Tucked in the middle of the assortment of lush flowers is a small envelope that wasn’t there before. The flap is enclosed with a familiar wax seal: the royal family’s crest.

You’ve seen your father open enough letters from them to recognize the sigil pressed into the bright red wax, but you’ve never once received one for yourself.

“Carnations signify fascination. Love,” you continue, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But I’m sure whoever sent these doesn’t know all that. They could’ve just picked these out because they’re pretty to look at together.”

Chan looks unconvinced. “Why don’t you open the envelope? I’m just guessing here, but maybe it was made to respond to your magic specifically? It would explain why it didn’t appear when I first checked the flowers out.”

For all his foolishness, he might actually be on to something this time.

But instead of brimming curiosity, that bothersome sensation from earlier surfaces again. It cloys in your chest, stirring your heart with trepidation before sinking like a stone in the pit of your stomach.

Your hands go clammy as you inspect the envelope as if it’s hiding a beast so it could swallow you whole. The royal family hasn’t given you any reason to even be remotely wary of them, but your reluctance refuses to waver.

In the end, you choose to brush it off, picking at the seal until it detaches from the envelope. When you take out what’s inside, the familiar scent of rich red roses laces the fine parchment.

It’s fairly easy to figure out who the sender is after that.

The greenhouse falls silent as you read through the letter’s contents. You’re acutely aware of Chan’s equally engrossed stare, but with each passing second, you grow more and more cognizant of the fact that this is definitely the reason why you awoke so keyed up first thing in the morning.

“Prince Joshua, huh?” He whispers somewhat disbelievingly before turning to you with curious eyes. “I figured you were friends since your father brings you along to the royal balls so often. Didn’t think he was this into you though.”

You didn’t either. You can hardly call the prince who’s second in line to the throne your friend, much more, a romantic prospect. Sure, Joshua is always hospitable whenever he catches you nursing a drink in the ballroom before asking for a dance, but you never would’ve imagined he harbored those kinds of feelings for you.

What’s more is, though you came from a highly regarded lineage of mages, there isn’t a drop of royal blood in your veins. But here he is, asking you to be his fiancée all while giving you the prettiest flowers you’ve ever received.

“Do you think it could be a mistake?” you mumble, reading over the letter once more to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

Chan rolls his eyes. “Look, that’s clearly your name he mentioned at the top. And don’t you think that someone as important as Prince Joshua will be more careful about sending out gestures of grandeur? He can’t just give any beautiful girl flowers, you know.”

His words shouldn’t faze you as much as they do. It’s always been easy for Chan to compliment people when the chance arises and he’s called you beautiful dozens of times before. Sometimes teasingly, more often genuinely.

It’s so strange. The most sought-after man in the kingdom just asked for your hand in marriage, but here you are—heart doing somersaults all because of your best friend’s easy admission.

Oh, heavens, you muse to yourself as Chan goes off on a tangent about how you’re mandated to get him front row seats to the wedding.

This is going to be difficult.

“That’s good news!”

When you dragged Chan to your father’s office once all your classes for the day were finished, you expected him to at least mull over Joshua’s abrupt proposal a little longer. It’s not that he was strict about the men you let in your life, but he looks much too elated for someone whose daughter is on the brink of being married off to someone else.

Well. When that ‘someone else’ is Prince Joshua, you think the proposal holds more weight than it otherwise would with any other commoner.

“But I don’t understand,” you tell him, chewing the inside of your cheek. “Why does Prince Joshua want to marry me all of a sudden? He hasn’t expressed any sort of romantic interest in me before, so why…?”

Your father chuckles from behind his desk, one finger guiding the drink from his glass with magic so he can spin it around in circles. Water elementals can be so strange at times.

“If I told you the prince has felt the way he claims in his letter for a good few years now, would it help you consider the proposal better?” he asks before putting the stream of wine he’s playing with back to its proper place.

“Wait a moment,” Chan pipes up from his seat. “Are you saying he’s been in love with her for a long time now?”

“Well, I’m not sure of the specifics, but the prince informed me of his affections a few months ago to seek my approval,” your father explains before leaning back into his seat to cast you a fond stare. “But I told him that regardless of what I think about the whole ordeal, the final decision isn’t up to me at all.”

The weight of their stares suddenly falls on your form.

You swallow thickly, having known all this time that your father wouldn’t possibly push you to go through with the proposal despite how happy it made him. It’s not that you don’t think Joshua is suitable to be your husband, but…

“Isn’t he taking things a bit too fast?” you ask dryly. “He could at least court me first—”

“My sweet girl, you know the way things work at the castle are much different from how they are in this small town of ours,” your father sighs. “You’ve heard about the royal assimilation period, yes?”

You have. It’s a sort of probationary period imposed on non-royals who wish to marry into the family. You know of a few acquaintances who had to spend a full year in the castles of other kingdoms without setting foot outside the premises during its entirety. At the time, you found the idea of isolation dreadful and that you can’t ever see yourself being in their place.

Now here you are, at the brink of being tied down to a prince you barely even know.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t spend a chunk of your day thinking about the pros and cons of marrying into the royal family. Becoming princess consort means you’ll be given a voice in the political court of the castle. Though your father does just fine in representing your hometown as its royal mage, being part of the regency itself grants you more authority over the decisions being made for the kingdom’s sake.

The thought of being able to improve the quality of life in your hometown as well as bringing more adequate funds for the Academy makes the offer all sorts of tempting. This is the place that made you who you are today, and you’d want nothing more than to give back however you can.

Plus, the thought of being married to Prince Joshua isn’t as daunting as it was when you found his letter hidden between the flowers he’d given. Since you had the whole work day to think about it, you managed to get over the initial dread and actually consider how having him as a partner would be.

His reputation as the kingdom’s most esteemed gentleman precedes him even in other places. It was once a popular opinion that Joshua would marry and settle down much sooner than his older brother, Jeonghan simply because of how adored he is among the people. Yet he’s already halfway through his twenties without any prospective partners.

Until now.

“I think you should accept his proposal.”

It shocks you that Chan is the one who tells you that. You stare at him with glaring disbelief while your father merely raises an eyebrow with mild interest before his lips break into a grin. “See? Even Chan over here agrees. I know it’s a bit much to suddenly become the fiancée of someone so important, but you’ll get to know each other better during the assimilation period anyways.”

Chan nods in agreement. “Besides, we can still visit you every now and again, right?”

The smile on your father’s face falls. “Oh, about that… Prospective royals aren’t allowed to entertain visitors that aren’t immediate family until the assimilation period concludes. But you can send letters if you end up missing each other too much.”

Your father says the words in such a light-hearted manner, you’re sure he didn’t say them in jest. He knows how close you and Chan have been since childhood; knows how important he is to you. If you accept Joshua’s proposal and whisk yourself off to the castle, it would be the longest you’ve gone without seeing your best friend in your entire life.

With Chan added to the equation, you realize that it’s not your level of familiarity with Joshua that makes you so reluctant to go through with it, nor is it the idea of being isolated from the outside for an entire year.

It’s the fact that you won’t be able to meet Chan for its entirety.

“Well, it’s not like it’s something you have to decide on right away,” your father interjects when he senses that the atmosphere has dipped. “I’ll keep in touch with the prince about the whole thing, but I’m sure he’d like you to take your time anyways. This is a lifelong commitment we’re talking about after all.”

This is ridiculous. Well, not as ridiculous when you remember you’re now of marriageable age and the prince has been harboring feelings for you for longer than you thought.

Still…

When you look at Chan, you half-expect him to at least comment on your father’s words, but he merely grins as if he’s completely on board with the idea.

Yet you can’t help but notice how that smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You end up accepting Joshua’s proposal a week later.

From what you could tell when he responded to your letter, the prince was ecstatic. He went into great detail about how he promises to make the entire assimilation process comfortable for you and that he can’t wait to have you at the castle. What makes the entire exchange all the more endearing is the fact that he’s genuinely apologetic about the abruptness of his proposal and that he honestly didn’t expect for you to agree.

You didn’t either.

If Joshua was ecstatic, your father was over the moon. When you informed him that you’re exchanging correspondences with the prince about the entire arrangement, he was quick to put together a farewell party when the final date of your assimilation period has been set in stone.

In other words, the past month was extremely busy for you. It consisted of several back and forth trips to the royal capital so you and Joshua could get all the paperwork involved done together. He’s just as sweet and accommodating as you remember—making the whole process less intimidating than it’s supposed to be. The more time you spend with the prince and soon-to-be-fiance, the less nervous you are for what’s to come.

The anxiety finally wears off by the time your farewell party comes around. Your father made sure to invite close friends and family as well as a few of his students and yours. Chaewon was in tears at the news that another mentor is going to be assigned for her because of the circumstances, but you promised to keep in touch when you come back.

Although once you’ve had your final conversations with most of your guests, you start to feel how wary you are from interacting with so many people at once. Eyes scanning through the small venue your father rented for the occasion, you attempt to look for a single person—a pout tugging at your lips when you can’t find him amidst the crowd.

No one knows Lee Jung Chan better than you do, so you’re right on the money when you venture out to the nearby river—immediately spotting him sitting alone by the banks.

You can only guess how many stones he’s already skipped across the stream, but Chan doesn’t even flinch as you settle down beside him, pulling your legs to your chest so you can rest your chin on your knees.

“You haven’t come here in a while,” you murmur quietly. “Something on your mind?”

“Mmm.” His eyes are pulled straight forward as if still lost in thought. You sigh before opting to stew in the sound of the flowing river—gazing at the slowly setting sun in the far horizon.

It hits you at that moment just how much you’ll miss him. Quiet afternoons with your best friend have become few and far in between ever since you started teaching at the Academy. Now that you’re Joshua’s fiancée, you don’t even know if you’ll ever get to watch sunsets with him like this again. The thought fills you with that same sinking feeling that you only learned to overlook recently and it must show on your face because Chan is quick to turn to you with a curious look on his face.

“You nervous?” he asks.

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Then why do you look so…”

“So?”

“I don’t know…that.”

“You have to be specific, Chan.”

He huffs, taking another stone from a pile he collected at his side before skipping it across the water. “Well, you look like the way you did before your first magical assessment. Remember when the headmaster called me to sleep over because you were practically shaking with anxiety? Even if you’re literally from the best sorcerer family in the city?”

“Hey! Just because my father is good at everything doesn’t mean I am too!”

“But you don’t have to be good at everything.” Chan smiles and you’re unprepared for how your heart lurches at how breathtaking he looks. “You just have to be yourself.”

A pause hovers in the midst of the conversation and you can feel the heat starting to creep up your cheeks. If your best friend notices, he doesn’t let you know.

“I remember that you aced that assessment. Scored highest in our entire year too,” he recalls with a hint of fondness. “I think you’ll do just fine in that assimilation period. Wait, no. I know you will.”

You’ve always admired how easy it is for Chan to uplift others, despite the harsh words some people have used to put him down countless times. It’s like he soaks up the negativity in his life and lets it all out in a more productive manner.

The steady flowing stream rings in your ears as the silence sets yet again, heart threatening to beat out of your ribcage as you drink in the sight of your best friend. Rays of muted sunlight filter through the trees onto his face and it makes the kind grin on his face glow even brighter.

Chan lets out a choked up sound when you immediately pull him in for a hug. He’s speechless for a couple of seconds—wondering what on earth got into you. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh and returns your embrace with twice as much affection.

“Sounds to me like you’re perfectly okay with marrying off your best friend to some guy,” you murmur jokingly, breathing in his scent like it’s your last. Burnt sugar and just a hint of musk.

He laughs and the sound vibrates across your skin. “Prince Joshua is not some guy. And why wouldn’t I be happy that you’ll be married to such a great person? He can give you everything, you know? Even if I used to give all the dudes who got close to you back then a lot of shit, I know the prince will make you happy.”

Happy…

That’s something you haven’t really considered ever since you and Joshua started making the preparations for your assimilation. He’s a good prince who values his people over his own interests and he’s also a gentleman that always considers your input in every step.

But not once did it ever occur to you that marrying him would equate to your own happiness.

The thought fills you with shame—especially knowing how much Joshua has done for you for the past month. You tell yourself that maybe it’s because you still don’t know him that well; that you just need a little more time before you can think of him as a person who can make you genuinely happy and not just someone who you have to marry for the sake of your town.

If there is someone who makes you feel that way without breaking a sweat, however…

Chan shoots you a puzzled look when you break away, rising back to your feet all while tugging at his arm. Still, he lets you pull him up—a determined look settling across your features.

“Follow me.”

During weekends, the Academy only grants entry to both students and faculty until mid-noon. But luckily for you, you’ve spent years sneaking into the greenhouse when you were still carefully cultivating all the plants you have on display.

Chan voices out his concern when you bring him inside, muttering something about trespassing on school territory but he tails you from behind anyway.

The plant box full of dazzling flowers he brought a month ago isn’t here anymore—having been planted safely in the garden of your house. In its place is a brand new shipment of flowers you ordered from BamBam about two weeks ago.

Chan hasn’t seen them yet since he’s made it a point to avoid the greenhouse while Chaewon is in the middle of her experiments. But the curiosity in his eyes shines when you show them to him.

“These are called forget-me-nots,” you say, a warm smile tugging at your lips. “They aren’t that rare, but…they’ve always been my favorite. The first time I saw them was in a forest near the southern cities, where Father taught me the names of all kinds of trees and flowers.”

Chan nods with an expression that tells you he doesn’t quite get it, but is happy for you nonetheless. You stifle a laugh and his face immediately reddens as he clears his throat. “Um, why’d you ask BamBam for these though? They look kind of…simple compared to everything else you already have here.”

“It’s because they’re so simple that they stood out to me, silly,” you chuckle. “That forest was teeming with the most exotic plant life I’ve seen. Flowers of all shapes and colors, trees that grew up to the clouds… Even in such an abundant forest, simple flowers like these grew unassumingly by the side—still thriving despite being considered inferior.”

When you stare at Chan, you realize how much these flowers remind you of him. And it’s for that reason that you’re about to ask him a huge favor.

“Can you take care of them for me while I’m gone?” you whisper—voice carrying a hopeful tone. “I know it’s a tall request but—”

“Are you kidding? Nothing’s ever a tall request from you.” He huffs. “Of course I’ll do it.”

Your mouth hangs slightly agape—not expecting Chan to agree to it so easily. It takes you a moment to pick up your train of thought, but when you do, you break into an even wider grin.

“Really? Notorious plant-killer Lee Jung Chan is agreeing to take care of a bunch of flowers for an entire year?” you tease.

“Hey, you’re the one who asked, so why are you suddenly questioning my credibility?” The pout on his face just makes you want to tease him even more. “I’m probably going to end up burning a few of them by accident, but I won’t be seeing you for a long time. This is the least I can do while I wait for you to come back, right?”

You are going to miss him so much, it makes your heart hurt.

Unlike earlier, Chan immediately reciprocates the hug you pull him into. You bury your face in the crook of your neck, ingraining the scent of him in your mind so that you’ll never forget your best friend even if you tried.

“I’ll come back for them in the spring,” you whisper.

Chan hums, his thumb tracing idle shapes along your shoulder blades. “Is that a promise?”

It feels like forever before you break away from him, but when you do, the desolate feeling you got from the thought of being apart from him goes up in smoke. Chan raises an eyebrow when you reach into the plant box to pluck two forget-me-nots from the soil—enchanting the blooms with your magic so the stems could morph into rings.

One for you and one for Chan.

“It’s a promise.”

“Miss, you’ve got a letter again.”

You’re in the middle of reading up on a compilation of the kingdom’s annual state of affairs when your handmaiden, Sakura, finds you in the castle gardens. She gathers her skirts with one hand while the other carries an unassuming envelope. It’s routine at this point.

“Thank you, Kkura,” you murmur before flashing her a warm smile. “Has Prince Joshua returned yet?”

She shakes her head. “The peace talks between the four kingdoms are taking much longer than anticipated. Although he and Prince Jeonghan should be back by tomorrow, if what the socialites are gossiping about in the main plaza are true.”

You stifle a soft laugh. “I bet Prince Jeonghan’s stirring up trouble in a foreign court as we speak.”

“You can say that again,” Sakura agrees with a withering sigh. “One of the reasons the king won’t easily let Prince Jeonghan take his place is because of his constant deviance. I’d bet my salary that he was just waiting for Prince Joshua to take up a wife before handing him the crown instead.”

“Kkura, the others might hear,” you scold, but there’s a chuckle wedged between the words. “Well, if a miracle happens and they arrive home earlier than expected, you know where to find me.”

“You’re very diligent about reading, aren’t you, miss?” She comments, impressed. “I know a couple of princess consorts in the making, but you’re probably the only one who cares to read about the technicalities of running a kingdom. Most of them are only in it for the chance to marry into a royal family.”

“Those waiting for me back home wouldn’t be very proud if I only leeched off my engagement with Prince Joshua,” you say a-matter-of-factly.

“You mean your father?”

There’s a pause in the conversation—one long enough for you to suddenly be cognizant of several things at once. The water running from a nearby fountain. Birds chirping before migrating into their nests for the night. In the silence, you let your eyes wander to the rings in your fingers.

A diamond engagement ring that probably costs more than what you’ve earned in your entire life on your ring finger and a bright blue forget-me-not wrapped around your pinky.

Right. Sakura doesn’t know about…

“Yes,” you tell her, but there’s hesitation in your voice that you hope she won’t hear. “He’s been very thorough about giving me advice on how to make the best decisions for a lot of people.”

“As expected of a royal mage,” she sighs, “Oh well, I’ll leave you be, miss. If your father is as thorough as you say he is, then I can only imagine what he’s written in that new letter.”

Well, she’s not exactly wrong.

After exchanging farewells, Sakura bows her head with a practiced curtsy—saying something about supper being ready in an hour or two before leaving you to your own devices. When you find yourself all alone once more, you rip open the envelope with a hint of excitement buzzing on your fingertips.

It’s been about three months since you’ve left your hometown and started your assimilation period. During those three months, you were constantly fed with a multitude of information that comes with being part of the regency. From etiquette classes to foreign relations—your teachers all expected you to take everything they told you to heart.

While the process sounds much too tedious, especially for someone who’s quite literally stuck here for another nine months, Joshua always took it upon himself to make sure you wouldn’t feel too bored with all the stringent formalities.

He’s wonderful company—never running out of stories to tell. From childhood embarrassments at the hands of his older brother to his own share of mischief that’s always overshadowed by the gravity of Jeonghan’s, Joshua kept you constantly entertained.

Your fiancé even suggested that the two of you sneak out into the city sometime just so he could show you that pub near the outskirts that he enjoys frequenting while undercover as an ordinary citizen. Of course, the offer sounded tempting at first, but you rightfully declined out of respect for both the royal family and the tradition that has kept the kingdom going for so long.

However, Joshua isn’t always here to keep you company. Being one of the most important figures in the kingdom, he and Jeonghan are regularly called in and out of the castle to attend to some business that their parents are too busy to sneak into their own schedules.

It’s during your fiancé’s bouts of absence that you look forward to your next form of entertainment—all the letters sent from home.

Just as you’ve told Sakura, your father accommodates all your questions about ruling over one’s constituents as much as he can—telling you to pay attention to the needs of the people above all else.

But aside from the detailed notes he leaves you with, there’s always another letter wedged inside the envelopes he sends to the castle every fortnight.

Hey.

How are you? Has the prince been treating you well, still? Sorry I couldn’t write to you last time. Training’s been hell and Jongkook hasn’t let me breathe for the past week. When the headmaster told me that becoming that guy’s apprentice wasn’t going to be easy, I didn’t think he was that serious. It’s a miracle I haven’t gotten third degree burns from all this temperature training.

Things are a little a lot different in the southern cities compared to home. Everyone is as mean as they could be. Jongkook called it the survival of the fittest and I kind of get where he’s coming from. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to see someone smiling every now and again, right? It’s a good thing I’m allowed to go home every week, or else my sanity would’ve disappeared before we could even see each other again.

About your flowers: have I told you that Chaewon’s helping me maintain them whenever I’m away? We’ve buried the hatchet and agreed to look after your forget-me-nots together! But she kind of emphasized that she’s doing this for you and not because she’s completely forgiven me for the monstera incident. But hey, progress is progress, right?

I checked them out personally when I got home today. They seemed more vibrant than usual. Almost like they’re happy to know I’m back. Seeing them made me think how I’d probably feel when your assimilation period is over. Ah, but I’m running out of parchment to write on. Sorry about that. There isn’t much going on with me anyways.

Tell me about your classes when you write back, yeah? You also mentioned a pub that Prince Joshua wanted to sneak you into last time. Did you go through with it? Did you have fun? I can’t wait to hear from you so the story better be exciting!

P.S. If the prince himself encourages you to sneak out of the castle, would you consider doing that so we can wander around the main plaza sometime?

P.P.S. That was a joke, by the way. Don’t have the royal guard arrest me.

P.P.P.S. But if you’re up for it, I wouldn’t say no.

Chan writes his letters the same way he talks in real life. You can almost hear his voice inside your head as you go through every word. You’re glad that he still has enthusiasm to spare over receiving tutelage from someone as important as Kim Jongkook, but even you can tell that his training is no walk in the park.

There were tears in your eyes when he first broke the news. You thought he’d spend his entire life without getting the proper guidance he needs to hone his powers. But a month after your departure, Chan quickly kept you up to speed about his newfound mentor with a promise that he’ll be the best fire elemental in your hometown by the time you got back.

But with how he bemoans the rigorous training in his letters, you ponder if he sometimes gets hit with the thought of quitting halfway. While his excruciating routines are a far cry from the year’s worth of assimilation classes you’re required to attend, you like to think that you and Chan have a similar threshold for the things you’ll willingly bear without complaints.

Though you’ve already accustomed yourself with your life at the castle, it’s a no-brainer to say you’d choose to leave for home in a heartbeat if given the chance. But your conscience won’t let you entertain the idea for too long, especially knowing how much you owe it to your hometown to persevere until the end.

That’s why even if you’d want nothing more than to see your best friend, you decidedly draw a fine line between your responsibilities and your heart’s desires. You want so badly to meet Chan again even if that means sneaking past the royal guards, but you’ve never really been one to bend and break the rules for selfish reasons like that.

Instead, you tuck your best friend’s letter away in the envelope beside your father’s. Nothing but the sound of the water spilling from the fountain rings in your ears.

As you stare at the pretty blue flower tied at the base of your pinky, you wonder for the hundredth time if you’ve made the right decision at all.

Prince Joshua is easy to love.

By your sixth month in the castle, you can genuinely say that you’ve at least developed a kind of attachment to the prince that borders on romantic. He’s handsome, thoughtful, kind, and many other traits that would only quantify him as a perfect husband.

Jeonghan regularly catches your gaze lingering several seconds too long on your fiancé every suppertime and it’s no surprise that the eldest prince would tease you to the ends of the earth for it. Saying something along the lines of if you’re already making moony eyes at him now, what more when you finally tie the knot?

It’s something that always flusters you no matter how many times Jeonghan brings it up. But it’s not because you’re embarrassed about what you feel for Joshua. It mostly stems from the fact that you don’t know what to feel for him.

Despite having lived under the same roof for six months, you’re still unsure of where your heart stands when it comes to Joshua. It’s a standstill of emotions that frustrates you to no end. You know nothing will be lost if you just surrender to your budding feelings, but it’s like there’s something always holding you back.

When the king hosts an overdue gala in the castle, you finally realize what it is.

It’s been more than half a year since they last held one within the premises out of respect for your ongoing assimilation. But now that you’ve passed the six-month mark, the royal court deemed it appropriate to give you more exposure to social functions such as this.

You’re understandably nervous for your first public appearance as Prince Joshua’s fiancée. Sakura has told you about how ruthless the kingdom's nobles could be when it comes to unearthing other people’s business. But your handmaiden assured you there’s nothing to worry about since you’ve done flawlessly with your classes since day one.

So there you are in front of the ballroom, arm linked with Joshua’s as the queen introduces you to every single noble in attendance. You wonder if the prince can tell just how nervous you are but you can at least hope that your smile can convince a hundred other strangers otherwise.

“Hey,” he whispers—eyes still riveted towards the crowd.

“What?”

“You don’t have to be so uptight.”

You try your best not to make a face. “Easy for you to say, Mister I’ve-been-attending-galas-since-I-was-in-the-womb.”

Joshua chuckles softly. “But you’ve been attending these frequently, too. That’s how we met, remember?”

“Yeah, but I’ve never been the center of attention!”

“Well…” He pauses before shifting his gaze towards the crowd—his mother’s sweet voice echoing throughout the ballroom as she tells everyone how excited she is to welcome you to the family soon. “If it helps, there’s a certain someone in the crowd that’s definitely rooting for you.”

Your confusion visibly shows on your face before you follow his line of sight. You knew your father would be in attendance as is required of all royal mages, but it’s not him that you spot in the crowd.

It’s Chan.

He’s a lot different than you remember—looking much too dapper to pass as the boy you knew as your best friend. He’s donned in expensive-looking garbs, the maroon silk of his tunic hanging loosely off his frame. His hair is slicked back and styled in a way that would make anyone think he was from one of the noble houses. Even the manner he’s holding a glass of champagne looks way too sophisticated for someone you frequently teased for his lack of etiquette and—

There’s a woman hanging off his arm. A woman you don’t know, but looks just as breathtaking as any maiden inside this damn ballroom.

Who is she? Chan has never mentioned any new friends in his letters. Hell, he didn’t even tell you he was going to be here tonight. Instead of feeling at peace with the fact your best friend is finally in front of you like Joshua assumed, all it does is stir a plethora of unpleasant feelings in the pit of your stomach.

“Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way,” the queen says with a smile—snapping you out of your trance, “how about we let our stars of the night lead the first dance? I know the lot of you have missed our parties. On behalf of the royal family and your future king and queen, we hope you’ll enjoy this night of music and liquor. Have a good evening, everyone.”

Forcing yourself not to think about how the queen just referred to you and Joshua as the kingdom’s future king and queen, you let your fiancé lead you to the dancefloor. Joshua is careful as ever as he helps you down the polished marble steps—that handsome smile never leaving his face. You feel like your heart would’ve fluttered as the two of you exchange the opening bows, but your heartbeat is all over the place knowing Chan is here watching everything unfold.

“You remember what we practiced, right?” Joshua murmurs as the orchestra starts the song.

“U-Uh, yeah,” you stammer—hoping your hands aren’t sweating through your silk gloves. “I won’t step on your toes anymore. Promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

His smooth-talking is not doing you any favors, but you try to dance the same way you practiced with for weeks. The thing about Joshua is that he always makes things easier for you—be it your engagement or some opening dance his parents requested for you to do. He’s so unbelievably accommodating that your initial nervousness easily falls away as the music continues to fill the ballroom.

You only notice that the other guests have already paired up with their own partners on the dancefloor when Joshua twirls you around and hands you over to a noble gentleman you find vaguely familiar. He grins at you when he receives his next dance partner, mouthing “You can do it,” before he spins her away.

This is the part that you barely rehearsed for. Joshua simply told you to have fun and the rest will come easily. His unhelpful advice threw you off a little, since you were so accustomed to doing things by the book—to abiding by the rules that have been set.

Your current partner—Hyunjin, as he introduced himself—seems to pick up on your nervousness.

“You’re the kid of one of the royal mages, right?” he asks. “I’m the same. You’ve done this partner exchange thing before, haven’t you? I’ve seen you around a few times in the past.”

You laugh dryly. “Yeah, but I’m just really nervous today.”

Hyunjin laughs. “Understandable. Don’t think about it too much and just let the music guide you through it.”

Well that’s easier said than done. The noblemen in the kingdom must have some sort of dance class where they’re taught to just take it easy because that’s definitely something you can picture Joshua saying to you as well.

But as the orchestra continues to play song after song, you find your initial inhibitions ebbing away with each partner that passes. Hyunjin is right—you have done this before and you’re slowly remembering how fun it feels to dance with strangers in the middle of the castle’s ballroom.

As the last few songs start to play, there’s no trace of nervousness left to be seen on your face. You’re finally in your element.

Until you finally find yourself in the arms of the same person who amplified your anxiety in the first place.

“Hey,” Chan greets with a soft smile as he fits one hand over your waist and entwines the other with yours. “I thought I’d never be able to get to you.”

You spend a couple of seconds just gawking at him, but your body thankfully still moves to the rhythm. Chan has the gall to stifle a laugh at your reaction and you nearly step on his foot on purpose.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss as he twirls you around.

“Whoa. Don’t get so worked up. The headmaster invited me, so my presence here is completely legal,” he responds, that stupid smile never leaving his face. “Anyway, you look beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks, but you could’ve at least told me you’ll be here!”

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

You want to snap at him and scold him for taking you by surprise like that. Part of you kind of wants to ask about his date for the night too, but past the frustration, you’re still glad to see him. It’s been too long and you know you have lots of catching up to do in person. So instead of an endless barrage of questions, you simply bask in the feel of being in your best friend’s safe hands after going so long without him.

You lose yourself to the music. At that moment, it’s as if you and Chan are the only two people in the world—contained in your own little bubble. When your gaze lands on the hand clasped with yours, your heart soars at the fact that he’s still wearing the ring you gave to him all those months ago.

A forget-me-not at the base of his pinky—much like your own.

“I’m not sure if I can steal you away for a quick chat after this so…” He purses his lips together as if he’s unsure of what to say. “You’re doing great. The queen seems enamored with you from what I could tell from her speech, so I hope you won’t put yourself down like you always do. You’ll be the best princess consort ever.

“And you seem really happy with Prince Joshua. I’m glad.”

Before you could even issue a response, he’s already turning you over to your next partner—making the words dissipate on your tongue before you can say them out loud.

Your next partner is none other than your future brother-in-law and you’re not sure if this is a good thing or not.

“Having fun?” Jeonghan asks with mirth coloring his tone.

“As much fun as someone who’s wearing heels all night can have,” you sigh as you match his careful yet precise movements. “Am I really going to have to do this all the time once Prince Joshua and I are married?”

The older man hums. “Mmm… You and Shua getting married? Not too sure about that, love.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What?”

“Ah, forgive me. I was just teasing,” Jeonghan muses with a sleazy look that’s rubbing you the wrong way. “It’s just that…I noticed you and that last partner of yours have matching rings, as well. Seems too good to be a coincidence on my end, but I could just be making the wrong assumptions.”

You don’t know why, but your chest seizes with panic—immediately explaining to Jeonghan that Chan is your best friend and nothing else. It’s not that you’re ashamed of him, but…

“Relax, little dove. I never insinuated otherwise,” Jeonghan chuckles. “But if you’re going to settle down with my brother, I suggest you do it with an unwavering heart. That’s all.”

You know you didn’t do anything remotely wrong, but Jeonghan is making it seem like he’s just caught you red handed for a crime you aren’t aware of committing. The same cheery smile lingers on his face for the entire dance, but there was an uncharacteristic seriousness in his words when he told you that last part.

A quiet voice inside your head tells you that you completely deserve the suspicion.

“Go find your fiancé for the final dance, love,” Jeonghan says with one last gentlemanly bow. “It’s only fair to properly conclude something you started together.”

Something tells you that there’s a double meaning behind his words, but even with how much time you’ve spent with Jeonghan, you still can’t easily parse what he means to say. Despite this, you do as you’re told—weaving through the crowd of visitors in search of Joshua.

You find him near the orchestra, dancing with the same woman whose arm was linked in Chan’s earlier tonight. There’s an dazzled look on her face that you’ve seen on the other ladies your fiancé has danced with and you chalk it up to the usual enchantment people are subjected to when they’re in Joshua’s company. He has that effect on people, it seems.

But she promptly snaps out of it when her eyes drift off to you—whispering something for Joshua to hear before the prince spins around with a welcoming look. He grins like he’s oh-so happy to see you and even if you know you should feel just as elated…

All that swells in your chest is guilt.

“They want us to what?”

A few days after the royal gala, Joshua pays your bedchambers a visit early in the morning. Sakura had just finished helping you into your corset and dress when the prince came knocking and despite your initial surprise, you gladly welcomed him at the doorway.

“Mother and Father want us to pay the local orphanage a visit,” Joshua reiterates the same words he just mentioned a minute ago, bemusement clear on his face. “They’ve been dispatching royal mages to hold magic classes for the young mages there lately. Jeonghan is usually the one who oversees it, but he has something more urgent to take care of today.”

Your throat bobs at the news. “But…I haven’t completed my assimilation yet.”

Joshua waves away your concerns. “About that. Since you’ve done such a remarkable job with your training thus far, and since you’ve apparently enamored dozens of guests the other day, I asked Father to reconsider the restrictions that come with the process.”

Enamored dozens of…? You shake your head, focusing on the matter at hand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the assimilation period is still in effect, but we’ve decided to…rectify a few of the rules that come with it,” Joshua explains with a cheeky smile. “Once royal protégés like you have passed the half-year mark, you’ll be allowed to go in and out of the castle as you please.”

Your jaw nearly drops to the floor. Is he being serious? Or is this a test?

“Come on, you’re making that face again.”

“What face?”

“Like what I’m saying is too good to be true.” Your fiancé pouts. "Don’t you want to go out? If I was stuck for six months in the castle without getting a taste of the outside, I honestly would’ve gone insane. Abiding by the one year rule is simply inhumane and it should’ve been amended a long time ago.”

…There he is again—making things easier for you like he always does.

You’ve never once thought of the castle as a prison, but… You did miss the outside. You miss early morning strolls in parks, weaving through markets to buy produce from local vendors. It’s been so long since you’ve had actual freedom that you forgot that you were quietly longing for it at all.

And Joshua went out of his way to give you just that.

“Okay,” you tell him—cautiousness still evident in your tone, but much less pronounced.

“What time do we leave?”

You have a feeling that the gods are out to smite you today.

No, really. They are. Because what sort of sick game is at play right now? Just when you thought you’ve found even more reasons to stick by Joshua until the end, they decide to throw a curveball at you in the form of…

“Oh, hello,” Chan greets with a stunned look when he appears behind the double doors to the orphanage—white marks that suspiciously look like cake batter smeared across his face. “I didn’t know that you were coming today. Prince Jeonghan said—”

“Yeah, Prince Jeonghan was busy so here we are,” you speak before Joshua could even explain, which you think is all kinds of rude, but your mouth starts running before your brain can even process the fact that your best friend is right in front of you. “Pray tell, what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, princess-consort-in-the-making. What’re you doing outside the castle?” Chan laughs as he opens the door wider with an apologetic bow given to Joshua. “Forgive me, Your Highness. We’re always just this familiar with each other.”

“So I’ve been told,” Joshua chuckles before turning to you. “Didn’t your father tell you? Chan is his newly appointed aide. He’s dealing with something in your hometown right now, so he often sends him to tend to matters like this in his stead.”

No, your father did not tell you anything about this at all. Your incredulous expression shifts between your fiancé and best friend as if you’re waiting for the punchline of some joke shared between them.

It never comes.

“I-I see,” you say instead, clearing your throat before looking at Joshua again. “So is there anything I need to do?”

“Mmm, you can go meet the children with Chan while I talk to the orphanage directress,” he suggests. “You’ll be alright with that, right Chan?”

Your best friend nods. “Of course, Your Highness.”

“No need to be so formal with me. My fiancée's friends are mine as well,” the prince chuckles while he shakes his head. “I best be off to the directress’ office. I’ll come find the two of you after. Does that sound alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Chan answers. “It’s a pleasure to have you.”

Joshua grins. “The pleasure’s all mine.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the orphanage’s communal kitchen—rounding up children who might or might not hurt each other with their own play magic.

They were apparently in the middle of baking a cake for the directress when you and Joshua made your unannounced visit. From how smitten the kids are with Chan, you figure that he must’ve been spending a lot of time here lately.

Your best friend mentioned that he has a new…sideline going on, but you never imagined it to be this.

“Channie, who’s this?” Iseul—as Chan introduced—asks while he eyes you with a doe-eyed look. “Your wife?”

“Iseul,” reprimands one of the other kids. This one’s Eri, if you recall correctly. “That’s rude…”

The boy laughs nervously before fidgeting with his fingers. “O-Oh, sorry. I just thought so since she’s wearing the same ring Channie’s wearing.”

As if on cue, you and Chan both glance at your rings—two forget-me-nots stare back.

Your best friend is the first to address their curiosity. “No, she’s not my wife.”

Iseul cranes his head. “Then why’re you two wearing matching rings? The directress told me that only people who are married can do that.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” he chuckles before walking towards the brick oven in the middle of the kitchen—striking the coals with a precise shot of flame magic. A quiet ember immediately smolders beneath. “We wear rings as a symbol of a promise we made to each other. Isn’t that right?”

Trying not to look too stunned with his precise technique, you clear your throat. “Um, yes. Chan is my best friend. We make promises all the time.”

You kind of fear that the explanation might not be enough for Iseul, but surprisingly, he just nods in understanding. “Ohhh. Just like me and Eri then!”

At the mention of her name, Eri’s face goes red, but she doesn’t make any moves to deny it.

“Yup. Just like you and Eri,” Chan agrees with a laugh. “Come on. Let’s put the cake we worked so hard on in the oven. You want to give this as a gift to the directress, right?”

Ten minutes later, the other kids joined the fray as they watched the cake rise inside the oven. You and Chan watch them carefully from a distance, making sure no one comes too close to burn themselves.

“Sooo,” your best friend starts, leaning against the wooden counter. “Did the prince sneak you out or?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No. But he did negotiate with the king to overhaul the terms that come with the assimilation period. Once someone manages to last for six months, they’re allowed to go outside.”

Chan whistles. “Now that’s a guy who’ll do anything for his wife. Uh, future wife.”

If those words were uttered by someone else, you would’ve felt flattered. It’s an honor to have someone like Joshua as your fiancé. He’s done more than enough for you over the past year and you can’t even begin to comprehend how you’re supposed to pay him back for his kindness.

But when Chan says them, it fills your chest with a feeling you can’t name.

“Anyway,” you begin, “were you planning on telling me that you’re Father’s aide now or was I just going to find that out from Prince Joshua after all?”

“Hehe, sorry,” he says, sounding anything but apologetic. “I…kinda wanted to keep it a surprise until your assimilation period is over. But turns out, I could get to see you much sooner after all.”

You roll your eyes despite the smile that creeps up your face.

It’s common practice for royal mages to appoint aides that they’re training to be the next royal mage. You can only imagine how much Chan has improved over the last six months to have garnered your father’s approval like this. That man’s standards are crazy high.

But then again, you’ve always known that Chan was always cut out to be an amazing mage.

As the children’s attention shifts to Eri, who’s being egged on by Iseul to ‘do that trick with the flowers again’, you find yourself quietly observing them. With red cheeks, Eri relents—snapping her fingers once before a pretty sunflower materializes out of thin air.

That casual display even catches you off guard.

At your side, Chan stifles a laugh and you shoot him a dirty look. “You and Eri have the same elemental affinity. She doesn’t know her way around plants yet, but she can make flowers from sheer will alone.”

That’s…quite impressive, actually. You haven’t met a promising mage with an affinity for plant life since Chaewon. And Eri is barely ten years old.

“I bet she’ll grow up to be a fine mage,” you comment fondly as you keep your eyes on the kids.

Just as you say the words, Iseul claps his hands enthusiastically—lone spurts of fire jumping from his fingers. The other kids all exclaim as they avoid the flames before telling Iseul to knock it off.

“Uh, yeah. Iseul is a fire elemental,” Chan says dryly. “He’s also kinda having trouble controlling his powers. But don’t worry, that’s why I’m here.”

At that moment, you realize that a lot can change in the span of six months. Before you left your hometown, you never would’ve imagined Chan being responsible for another child’s magical progress. You were so used to hearing him putting himself down that the confidence he now exudes surprises you. In a good way.

Whatever he went through in the southern cities, you think of extending your gratitude to his mentor, Jongkook. You can only imagine what he put your best friend through for him to have this much trust in himself and his powers now.

Chan heaves a laugh that he pulls from the bottom of his stomach when one of the kids douses Iseul with a magical spray of water. It’s a sound you’ve longed to hear for months and now that his laughter is singing in your ears, you can’t help but stare at him a little too fondly.

What’s more is that he still has cake batter smeared across his cheek. You wonder if he genuinely isn’t aware it’s there or he’s just keeping it on for laughs. Still, you unconsciously lean closer—raising your hand to brush your fingers across the cream. Your best friend visibly startles at the gesture but makes no moves to shy away from your touch.

With your faces inches away, you start to realize just how close you’ve gotten. You can almost feel the hitch of his breath across your skin and…

Has Chan always been this handsome?

But those few precious moments are immediately shattered like glass when Iseul gasps and points to the entrance of the kitchen. “Look! It’s Prince Jeonghan!”

You and Chan break apart like you’ve both been burned by Iseul’s flames. Confusion races through your brain because you were told that Jeonghan was busy today, so why…?

“Common mistake, but I’m not Prince Jeonghan. I’m his brother,” Joshua clarifies as he steps into the kitchen with a bright smile. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”

One of the other kids gasps. “Are you a prince too?”

“He is.”

It surprises you that Chan is the one to speak up—having moved away from the counter and closer to the kids. You feel your heart twist when he leaves, but you shove down the emotion since Chan is beaming like he always is.

“He’s Prince Joshua and he’s getting married soon,” he continues before gesturing to you. “To her, actually.”

The children let out noises of awe, blinking up at you and Joshua with mouths agape like they’ve just witnessed someone do a neat trick with their magic. You can feel your face heat up at the sudden attention and you would’ve been glad to know that Joshua—for all his confidence and wit—isn’t faring so well either.

If only you weren’t so put down by the fact that your best friend just drew a fine line between the two of you. A line that he probably, definitely won’t cross.

“That’s right. If all goes well, we’re having the wedding in six months,” Joshua agrees quietly—his initial shock morphing into fondness.

“Whoa! A royal wedding?” Iseul gasps. “Are we invited too?”

The atmosphere proceeds to blur into a buzz of questions that Joshua is happy to accommodate. For children who are probably no older than twelve years old, they seem very engrossed in the relationships interspersed between the royal family.

You wonder if Jeonghan had a hand in their particular interest in the matter, but you don’t ponder on it too much because Chan eventually excuses himself from the kitchen—asking you to watch over the cake while he goes to check on the other kids playing in the backyard.

Your eyes stay riveted to the entrance even when your best friend is long gone.

You’re not sure how you’ve managed to last nine months away from home, but here you are.

As the end of your assimilation draws near, so does the royal wedding that’s been the talk of the capital for weeks now. Ever since you’ve been given freedom to go out of the castle as you please, you’ve made several friends among the elite socialites.

They’re always dying to get their hands on an inside scoop about what you and Joshua have planned for the final quarter of the process, but you often turn these requests down before convincing one of the ladies to tell you about the diamond necklace her husband got her for their anniversary.

It’s a scheme that Sakura told you in passing: if you want to get the nosy ones off your back, just trick them into talking about themselves instead.

Speaking of your handmaiden, she’s been busy booking you several trips to the most renowned boutique in the capital. With only three months left until the wedding, you’re expected to look out for the perfect dress to wear on that special day.

Despite knowing that you’re more level-headed than most marriageable women your age, you have fantasized about what you would look like in a wedding gown. Although sixteen year-old you never would’ve considered getting to sample the designs of well-known tailors across the kingdom, much more being fussed over by the royal family itself.

What you pictured was a simple wedding in your hometown—donned with a dainty white dress that didn’t boast much glamor and glitz. The only visitors would be your family, some close friends, along with your colleagues and students. A spring wedding always seemed perfect to you, and whenever you imagined yourself walking down the aisle, the person waiting for you at the altar is—

“Oh my goodness,” the seamstress behind all the stunning dresses you're trying on gasps when she lets herself inside the dressing room—eyes glittering like rhinestones. “You look absolutely stunning! I definitely like the fit of this more than the others, miss!”

You startle out of your careful reminiscing as your brain zones back in on your reflection in the mirror. This dress is as white as an angel’s wings and though she is completely right about it easily being the best you’ve tried on so far, it’s a far cry from the one you dreamed about wearing as a teen.

You’re not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

“You think so?” you murmur, pushing down those past preferences into the furthest vestiges of your mind. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Aside from wedding gowns, the queen often consults you about the venue of the wedding. You’re actually quite surprised with how much agency they’re allowing you over the necessary decisions, but she insisted that it’s only fair for her future daughter-in-law to have a say with how her own wedding is going to pan out.

“I was thinking of holding it in the castle’s courtyard for all the kingdom to see,” she tells you over afternoon tea, a kind smile settled on her face. “That’s how all royal weddings usually take place, but I thought we could use some fresh input, you know?”

“Fresh input?” you repeat. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I don’t think I can follow…”

The queen shakes her head. “Silly girl, I’m asking if you have another venue in mind! Your ideas about royal politics have always been refreshing to hear, so I figured that you must have an alternative sitting inside that pretty mind of yours.”

The moment the words leave her lips, you immediately picture the riverbanks back in your hometown. It’s not a place that could accommodate hundreds upon thousands of guests like royal weddings should. But if you were to settle with a more intimate gathering, that would be your best bet.

Of course, you tell the queen none of this.

“I think holding it at the courtyard is a splendid idea already, Your Highness,” you tell her with a smile that you don’t quite believe in. “After all, there’s no place like home.”

Another thing to consider is the guestlist. Even if this is an event that the royal family encourages the entire kingdom to look forward to, only a select few are allowed inside the castle premises.

For some reason, Jeonghan is the one saddled with the job to curate who gets to witness you being hailed both as Joshua’s wife and as princess-consort. He’s hard at work when you find him in the castle library one day, buried in stacks upon stacks of invitations with a look on his face that screams why am I even here?

Curious, you slide into one of the empty seats at the table. “I didn’t think they’d hand you a job so tedious.”

“They didn’t,” Jeonghan frames the words with a sigh. “I volunteered ‘cause I know it would make Shua happy.”

“You can make your little brother happy in other ways too,” you joke.

The older prince hums as he scribbles onto a fine sheet of parchment. “You’d know a lot about making my brother happy, now would you?”

Jeonghan has a reputation for being a scheming, sharp-tongued prince. You’re fully aware of this, but getting to live with him for almost a year made you see sides of him he doesn’t usually show to the public.

Though not as openly as Joshua does, he cares for his family and the staff in his own, quiet way. You like to think that his subtle thoughtfulness even extended to you during these fateful months in the castle.

But after that fateful encounter in the ballroom during the six-month mark of your assimilation, something told you that you no longer had the privilege of being on the receiving end of his support.

“It’s kind of ironic, really,” Jeonghan muses before dipping his pen into the inkwell. “I’m willingly overseeing this blasted guestlist despite the fact that my brother is getting married to someone who doesn’t even love him. But I suppose it’s an older brother’s job to cater to the fantasy until he sees things for how they are on his own.”

“Your Highness, forgive me but it’s rather bold of you to assume that I don’t harbor an ounce of love for my fiancé,” you tell him outright, lacing your fingers together tightly on your lap.

Right next to the lavish ring Joshua had given to you, a forget-me-not sits unassumingly by its side.

Jeonghan laughs. “Really? That’s quite amusing, since I think it’s even bolder for you to choose responsibility over the man your heart truly longs for.”

Silence rings in the room like white noise and you aren’t able to school your expression into neutrality fast enough to escape Jeonghan’s observant eyes. The complacent set of his jaw clues you in on just how much he actually knows and you aren’t certain about what to make of it.

“Whatever you think is going on with me and…that person,” you start, the address tasting like acid on your tongue, “I guarantee you that it’s long gone. He’s the one who made it clear several months before and I never once intended to go back on something I already started.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes before pointing the tip of his quill at you. “You know, things would be much easier if you were just a gold-digging commoner and none else.”

Your face twists with offense. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he retaliates as he leans back in his seat. “If you were in this for money and power like every other woman out there, Shua would’ve called off the engagement much sooner. But even I know that you’re too good for that.”

Your momentary vexation with Jeonghan blurs into confusion in a matter of seconds. Is he making a jab at you or complimenting you?

When he recognizes the puzzled look on your face, he heaves a long-winded sigh before putting down his pen altogether.

“Let me put it this way: you’re objectively the best princess-consort-in-training that I’ve had the pleasure to meet. You do everything you’re told flawlessly—sticking by the book at all times if you can help it. You’d even sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of others.

“While that sense of responsibility would make for a great leader in the future…my little brother doesn’t deserve to be loved as half-heartedly as you love him.”

Your heart thumps inside your ribcage as if it was a prison it longs to break free from. Part of you knows you should refute every single thing that Jeonghan just said. It’s what a future princess-consort should do.

But every time your mind flashes back to that old spring wedding fantasy you conjured up in your hometown, Chan’s lovely smile burns itself into the back of your eyelids.

Wordlessly, Jeonghan goes back to work and you stew in the silence of the library much longer than you have to. It’s only when one of the servants calls both of your attention to have lunch in the dining hall that he speaks again.

“You still have several weeks to make up your mind, little dove,” Jeonghan whispers slowly the moment you both enter the dining hall. It doesn’t help your case when Joshua perks up in his seat at the sight of you walking inside with his older brother like he hasn’t given you an ultimatum right then and there.

“Make sure each one counts.”

You don’t really receive letters from Chan anymore.

He’s stopped sending them together after you last met him in the orphanage. Your father explained that he’s been entrusted with several tasks both in and out of the Academy and that those take up most of his time.

You want to tell him that your best friend never once missed a letter even during those hellish days he spent in the southern cities, but in the end, you decide to keep your silence.

Thoughts about letters that won’t come are the last thing on your mind when winter falls upon the kingdom. The preparations are in full swing despite the fact that there’s still a month left before the wedding itself and because you refuse to be a sitting duck that lets everyone do all the work, you decide to contribute every now and again.

But even if there’s a sense of accomplishment in being able to help around, this season has always been your least favorite.

You’re a mage who practices with plants and flowers alike, so it’s only natural for you to feel under the weather this time around. The fact that you’ve scarcely gotten to practice your magic ever since you set foot in the capital does little in contributing to your peace of mind as well.

Your hometown is teeming with plant life that you could nurture with the simplest spells. Inside the stone walls and marble floors of the royal castle, there’s barely anything that requires your constant care.

It’s a given that royals tend to avoid relying on magic for all matters concerning the regency. You were taught that cleverness and wit are the two things that will keep you alive among the foreign courts of other kingdoms and that things like magic can be entrusted to the royal mages instead.

But all it takes is a withering winter to make you realize that you don’t want your magic—the very core of who you are—to dwindle into nothingness.

It’s for that reason that you find yourself heading over to the castle gardens despite the fact that you promised Sakura that you’d start practicing for matrimonial dance with your usual instructor this afternoon. The sun has barely peeked beyond the clouds these days, but you’re convinced that you’ll at least find comfort in the flowers that grew sparsely inside.

There, you find Joshua crouched next to a shrub of carnations.

He’s dressed down today—comfortably enough to let you know that he doesn’t have any plans for the meantime. Your fiancé is examining each bloom with such rapt attention, you’re convinced he didn’t even notice your arrival.

Surely enough, as you take the first step to approach him, he rises back to his full height—turning around with a vibrant carnation in his hand.

Everyone inside the castle uses their magic so infrequently that you sometimes forget that you and Joshua share the same elemental affinity. Maybe that’s the reason it was so easy for you to get along with him for the past eleven months.

But you know better than most that there’s more to it than just that.

“You’ve been very busy lately,” Joshua comments with an easygoing smile. “I barely see you these days.”

You sigh, tucking your cardigan closer to your form. “If I’m not helping with the wedding preparations, I’m holed up in my bedchambers. I…don’t really like winters.”

“Neither do I,” he chuckles. “But my duties won’t stop just because I loathe the cold. I’m sure you understand that well.”

The quiet settles over the both of you like a blanket of snow—making you wonder how you used to deal with long winters in the past.

Then you remember a boy who’s always brought warmth in your life without even trying. Nights spent sleeping in front of the fireplace, tucked in the warmth of his body no matter how harsh the blizzards could be. Collective yearning for the day the snow finally melts and spring returns with a flowery smile.

But that’s the thing—it’s all in the past.

“Can I…ask you something?”

The hesitation in Joshua’s words makes you stare at him pensively.

He always sounds sure of himself. Attractively confident. Not in a way that others would find obnoxious, but the complete opposite. There’s a reason why Joshua is so loved in his own kingdom yet right now, you’re starting to see the cracks forming on his gentlemanly demeanor.

“What is it?” you murmur softly despite dread slowly sinking its claws into your skin.

Joshua tilts his head up to the overcast sky like he’s wondering if it’s going to snow today. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply before meeting your eyes again.

“Are you certain you still want to go through with the wedding?”

This…oddly feels like the time you found Jeonghan in the library. The guilt you’ve been harboring for the longest time festers at the implications of his question and you wonder if everything you’ve worked so hard on for the past year will come crashing down today.

“Of course,” you tell him but you’re well aware Joshua knows a lie when he hears it.

“Really?”

“Is there something specific that you wish for me to say?”

He sighs—the cold starting to materialize with each breath. “No, nothing in particular.”

“It’s just that I believe it would be unfair of me to impose marriage when your heart already belongs to someone else.”

The water running from the fountain is all that plagues your ears yet Joshua’s admission doesn’t evoke the visceral reaction you had to Jeonghan telling you nearly the same thing. Hearing the words come from your fiancé’s mouth doesn’t instill you with guilt.

No… This is something much closer to acceptance.

“I once thought that your time in the castle would give enough leeway for us to get to know each other better,” he continues with a sad smile. “And it did. I’m certain that we’re much closer now than we were a year ago. But… I was a fool to think I could ever get you to love me the same way you love him.”

You’re immediately seized with the need to placate him somehow. After all, you were taught that it’s a wife’s duty to ease her husband’s troubles should he confide in her.

But you’re not Joshua’s wife.

(And from how this conversation is going, you might never be.)

All of a sudden, something that Jeonghan said to you in the library resurfaces in your mind. At the time, you were too frustrated with him to actually process the words, but suddenly all of it makes sense.

I suppose it’s an older brother’s job to cater to the fantasy until he sees things for how they are on his own.

“You’ve known all this time,” you tell him incredulously. “Why… Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to think that you were obligated to love me for my sake. That’s something that should never be imposed,” he murmurs, twirling the flower in his hands almost wistfully. “I assumed that…maybe if I just gave you enough time, it would come to you naturally. But sometimes things just don’t work out the way you thought and that’s okay.”

If you weren’t trembling in your shoes a minute ago, you certainly are now.

“Joshua,” you whisper. “What are you saying?”

The smile on his face never wavers even as he crosses the distance between you and pulls you into a sound embrace. It catches you off guard for a second because Joshua has never initiated this kind of contact during your entire stay.

But even with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the fact that your mind immediately compares it to how it feels to have Chan’s heat permeating your skin…

It only means that this engagement is as good as over.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Joshua whispers back—one hand smoothing across your hair as he holds you in place. “For giving yourself the chance to love me. For being selfless enough to do everything you’ve done so far. I used to admire your self-sacrificing tendencies, but…

“Now I’m sure it’s high time that you chose yourself for a change.”

You don’t know when the tears started to fall, but you find comfort in the crook of Joshua’s neck as you sob into his arms. He doesn’t say a word as you let it out—all the years you spent looking after others, putting their wellbeing first before your own.

You’ve gotten so accustomed to taking responsibility for everyone around you that it never really occurred to you that things don’t have to be that way.

You’re allowed to choose yourself. You’re allowed to be selfish.

“Go,” Joshua murmurs against the crown of your head. “Go back home. You deserve as much.”

You look up at him, sniffling. “B-But the wedding—”

“There won’t be a wedding,” he reassures with the same sad smile that breaks your heart to see. “You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll explain the situation to everyone. Right now…you have to go because your father informed me that he’s leaving soon.”

As if you haven’t already been given enough to deal with in a single day, you feel like an anvil has been dropped into the pit of your stomach.

“What do you mean?”

“Lee Jung Chan was assigned to travel to another reputable magic school on the other side of the continent to build an alliance with the Academy,” Joshua explains swiftly. “He leaves tonight and won’t come back in a long, long while depending on how the initial negotiations turn out.”

An alliance…?

Is that what he’s been so preoccupied with these days? So much that he can’t even spare the time to write to you anymore?

Before the next bout of tears could spill from your eyes, Joshua calmingly tucks a loose tuft of your hair behind your ear. He looks at you with so much adoration and longing that you briefly entertain the possibility of you loving him unconditionally in another life.

You hope he’ll be happier there.

“There’s a carriage waiting for you at the gates of the capital,” Joshua says. “Leave now while you still have time.”

You want to say something. To apologize to him. To thank him. To tell him that he deserves the world and much, much more.

But all you do is slide off the diamond engagement ring from your finger, handing it to Joshua with an apologetic look before bolting to the castle entrance—not even sparing him a single word in goodbye.

Venues? Wedding gowns? Invitations? None of these mattered anymore.

Not when you're about to lose your best friend—the love of your life.

Joshua tries not to think about how your hand looked now that it was devoid of his gift; how all that remained is a promise ring that he should’ve taken as a sign to give up a long time ago.

Just as he hears the commotion stirring down the winding halls, Joshua looks up at the sky again. When he closes his eyes, he feels the first few snowflakes land on his face—cold and solitary, much like himself.

Even so...

You broke his heart in the middle of winter, yet Joshua still looks forward to the flowery smile of spring.

The moment you arrived at your hometown, you weren’t sure where to start looking. For one, the coachman who brought you here said that your father was out of town for undisclosed reasons. You couldn’t exactly march up to the headmaster’s office in the Academy to interrogate him about Chan’s whereabouts.

That’s why you opted to start with your best friend’s house openly greeted by his mother with a shocked expression as she asks what on earth you were doing so far away from the royal capital.

“Uh, it’s a long story,” you tell her sheepishly as you try not to shiver too much from the cold. “I promise I’ll keep you up to speed, but for now I really need to find Chan.”

She hesitates for a moment and you chalk it up to the fact that Chan’s mother must be thinking she’s going to have a hand in something illegal if she helps you. After all, she’s always had good instincts when either you or her son were up to no good.

But you tell yourself that this is probably the most good you’ve done for yourself in a long, long time.

In the end, she directs you to the Academy—saying something about Chan wanting to deal with a few things first before he leaves. With just half an hour until nightfall, several students can be seen walking out of the gates after a long day. Some just pass by you without a word, while others throw second glances over their shoulder—as if they couldn’t believe that you’re back either.

You recognize those kids to be some of your former students, but you can’t bring yourself to stop for a quick chat—simply hoping they’ll forgive you for your haste.

But through the thundering of your heart, you hear a familiar voice call your name in the crowd.

“You’re back!" Chaewon remarks with a delightful gasp before tackling you with a firm embrace. “Why didn’t you tell us you were visiting? Did you bring Prince Joshua with—?”

“Chaewon, where’s Chan?” you interject almost desperately.

Your old student blinks up at you, rightfully confused. “Um, he’s going on a trip for a while. Yunjin told me just now that she saw the other royal mages that gathered here leave on their horses an hour ago. Why? Did you need something from him?”

The news makes you feel like your head has been submerged in murky waters—cloying your senses until you could no longer make sense of what’s around you. Chaewon flashes you a disconcerted look, asking if everything is alright.

You want to tell her that you’re fine, but you can’t find the words. Your mouth feels cottony and your eyes are starting to sting. Instead of answering, you turn on your heel, biting down the guilt that comes with dismissing one of your favorite students as you run towards the opposite direction.

Chaewon calls out for you several times, but you don’t look back.

Maybe you should just head back to the castle and tell Joshua that this was all a mistake—a lapse in judgment that can still be taken back. You should just see your assimilation through until the end. You’ve already made it so far, after all.

But you just know, deep in your gut, that Joshua wouldn’t accept that so easily. He made it clear that he wants you to want him with no holds barred. Not because you feel responsible for his feelings. Not because the love of your life has already left. That’s just who he is as a person.

Not wanting to burst into tears for the second time today, you find yourself walking towards the greenhouse—craving that familiar solace you always get whenever you’re inside. Your father told you he was going to keep an eye on it while you were gone and you figure that he’d been telling the truth when you find the enclosure just as you’ve left it.

Several of your personal experiments seem like someone enchanted them with time suspension magic—looking the exact way they did before you left almost a year ago. Among the other plants and flora are other pieces you don’t recognize. You figure that these must be Chaewon’s work and you remind yourself to compliment her once you sort yourself out.

But when you don’t spot a certain plant box you were looking for, a frown roots itself on your face.

Did Chan move your forget-me-nots somewhere else? The vibrant blue flowers should’ve been easy to spot even amidst the lush blooms all around you, but there’s nothing like that in the vicinity.

You take your search outside for reasons unknown. Perhaps it’s the restlessness of just staying in one place when you know the very symbol of your promise with your best friend is nowhere to be found. As you make your way out, you glance at the single flower sitting at the base of your pinky—sadly wondering if Chan is even still wearing his.

But the moment you make it to the back of the greenhouse, you’re much too stunned with the sight that beholds you.

What once was a vacant patch of grasslands is now filled to the brim with forget-me-nots that glow vibrantly in comparison to the bleak gray winter. Despite the drop in temperature, the field of blue flowers stretches on until the borders of the Academy and you have to pinch yourself and make sure you’re not dreaming.

Then, as if this situation can’t get any more unbelievable, you spot someone crouched in the middle of the field of forget-me-nots.

Your best friend.

Chan doesn’t immediately notice you—seemingly lost in thought, just like the day you found him by the riverbanks a year ago. For someone that’s leaving on an indefinite trip to the other side of the continent, he surely doesn’t look dressed the part, having opted for his comfortable cotton tunic and trousers instead of the garbs royal mages and aides are required to don.

You don’t think twice. You just run.

He lets out an undignified yelp when you tackle him into the ground—palms heating up with a flare of his magic with the full intention of blasting away the intruder. But when he finds his best friend lying right on top of him amidst the forget-me-nots, he’s engulfed with a different kind of heat entirely.

“You asshole,” you hiss with teary eyes, beating your fists weakly against his chest. “You’re going away for a long time and you didn’t even bother to tell me? Am I suddenly not your best friend anymore?”

There’s nothing more that Chan hates than seeing you cry, but he loathes it even more when he’s the cause of your tears. He doesn’t even know if you’re actually here with him. You should be back at the royal castle, preparing for your wedding and not sobbing because of your best friend.

But the warmth of your body nestled on top of his own is much too real. It’s the same sensation he’s craved since you left. The same feeling he’s always longed for, for as long as he can remember.

And he’s not such a glutton for punishment that he’ll deprive himself of it any longer.

Chan cracks a barely there smile, the breath of his laughter materializing in front of him as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear. He’s not sure if your face flushes because of him or the cold, but he likes to think it’s the former.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, opting to save his many questions for later. “Dunno how you found out about the trip, but I backed out of it last minute. Told the headmaster that I’m not the best with negotiations and that I might unknowingly start a war in the process.”

He half-expects you to either laugh in his face despite the clearly distraught expression you’re wearing or fume at him for being so ridiculous. You probably made the trip from the capital to your hometown just to see him off and he’ll understand your frustration at the fact that his participation was rendered null and void.

But you do neither of these things.

Instead, you curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt—pulling him up and leaning forward at the same time.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about kissing Chan at least once in your life. But you can attest to the fact that you didn’t imagine it to happen while you’re freshly broken up from a year-long engagement—snowflakes starting to fall in the field of flowers you asked him to take care of.

Those he promised to take care of.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, hands trembling from where they grip Chan’s clothes as you force your breathing to even out. “I’ve always loved you and I’m the biggest idiot in the world for not accepting that sooner.”

Chan gazes up at you in stunned silence, lips moving as if meaning to say something in return but the words evade him. But just when you’re about to emphasize your point again, Chan raises an arm to shield his eyes with the back of his hand.

“You’re lying,” he chuckles almost helplessly. “You’ve got to be messing with me.”

A scowl stretches across your lips. How could that be his first reaction? You thought he’d be elated that you came back and professed your feelings.

But then you entertain the possibility that…what if you’ve read the entire situation wrong? What if Chan never had any feelings of the romantic kind for you at all?

What if you risked everything for nothing?

“Lee Jung Chan,” you whisper threateningly. “I left the Crown Prince himself in a heartbeat when I found out you were going away. Made the entire trip from the capital to here just for the slim chance of seeing you before you left. I even kissed you outside in the middle of winter because I was so fucking glad that you’re here to stay. If that isn’t genuine enough for you, then what else do you want me to do?”

Your best friend lowers his hand and you try not to waver at the sight of his puffy red eyes. He sucks in a deep breath that almost whistles down his throat before taking one of your hands and lifting it closer to his face.

At the base of your pinky is the same ring he’s never once taken off since you gave it to him.

As night falls and the endless snow falls upon your hometown, two lone figures in a field full of flowers remain undisturbed in their lonesome.

For some, love is something you don’t give half-heartedly. For others, it should never be imposed.

For you, it’s a whirlwind of emotions that you could never quite figure out how to deal with.

Yet when it comes to Lee Jung Chan, you realize that love has always been easy.

“Chan,” you sigh into the cold air of his bedroom as your best friend peppers your neck with kisses much too heated than you expected. “S-Slow down a little.”

He breathes out a laugh that sounds much too airy for your liking. Chan detaches his lips from your skin as he flashes you a gummy smile. “Slow down? I’ve been waiting for you my whole life. I don’t think I can slow down anymore, princess.”

You have to fight the urge to hit him with his choice of words. “Act any more cheeky and I’m walking out of your house.”

“Duly noted.”

Then his mouth is back on yours.

The trip back to Chan’s house—a new, one bedroom apartment near the town square, not his mother’s house—was a bit tricky. For one, you had to walk around where virtually everyone knows you to be Prince Joshua’s fiancée, answering questions about what you’re doing back home with the wedding coming up so close.

You keep your answers curt and short—not wanting to ignite the scandal of a lifetime before Joshua can even prepare the ample damage control. That and each time someone mentions how happy they are for your engagement, you can feel Chan’s eyes boring into the back of your head.

So now you’re here, crowded beneath your best friend on his mattress as he kisses your breath away.

You’ve never done this before. The most daring thing you’ve done with Joshua, who was literally your fiancé for almost a year, was that last hug you shared before you left the castle for good. So you suppose no one can blame you for feeling so lightheaded from the feel of Chan’s lips pressed against yours alone.

It doesn’t help that, even through his desperation to leave no space between the two of you, there’s still caution weighted beneath his desire. He could probably sense the hesitation in your movements as you reciprocate his vigor—kissing back almost awkwardly despite how good his kisses are making you feel.

“Open your mouth a little for me,” he murmurs, one hand cradling your jaw as you let out a little whimper. “Come on, don’t get shy on me now. I promise you’ll like it.”

Not wanting to keep either of you waiting for much longer, you do as you’re told—opening your mouth just a tad wider right after Chan kisses you again. He easily muffles the gasp you make with his lips when you feel his tongue lick into your mouth. The sensation makes gooseflesh prickle your arms and he coaxes out another embarrassing noise from you—one too salacious for others to hear freely.

“See? What’d I tell you?” he whispers breathlessly against your lips—a strong arm coiling around your waist as he pulls you against his body. “You like it that much?”

You nod meekly. Chan laughs.

“I wanna try something. Hold on.”

Confused, you watch your best friend take a spot beside you on his bed, legs sprawled across the mattress as he tugs you closer to him. You resist his ministrations for a moment as you try to figure out what on earth he’s planning to do. But then it dawns on you.

He wants you to sit on his lap.

“Too much?” he asks with a hint of caution, to which you quickly respond with a shake of your head.

“Just…surprising,” you admit as you settle your hips across his thighs.

You kind of want to ask where he even learned about all this, but part of you doesn’t want to know the answer. Picturing Chan lying with someone else like this is enough to kill your mood, so you decide to push the thought far away until you could no longer remember it.

Despite how…strange and new this is to you, it’s much more comfortable than having his weight press you down into the mattress. Not to mention, you can just brace your hands on Chan’s shoulders as he licks further into your mouth—fingers laced behind the small of your back as you continue whimpering into his kisses.

Gods above. Will you even get out of this alive?

“You taste so sweet,” Chan murmurs before carding his fingers through your hair. “Much better than I imagined.”

You find it in you to chuckle in spite of yourself. “You’ve been imagining this?”

“Enough times to grant me admission to an asylum,” your best friend replies with a sigh as he continues combing your tresses. “I’m crazy about you, if that isn’t obvious enough. Wanted to kiss you so bad back in the orphanage when you leaned in way too close.”

You didn’t know it at the time, but looking back at it now, you definitely felt the same. Now you’re not sure whether or not you should treat Joshua’s untimely entrance in the kitchen that day as a miracle or a curse.

“I did too,” you profess with little hesitation, tracing the curve of his lips with your thumb before resting your forehead against his. “We’re so stupid. If only we admitted our feelings earlier, we wouldn’t be in such a huge mess.”

Chan hums. “You mean…if I just spoke up when you got Prince Joshua’s proposal, you would’ve rejected it?”

“Of course I would,” you nearly exclaim. “I’ve loved you since we were kids, Chan.”

“Ditto. Guess we have lots of missed time to make up for.”

When he claims your lips again, it’s charged with want so potent you can almost taste it on your tongue. Chan presses your body even closer to his, if that’s even possible and as he continues building up the fever pitch of your desire, you start to shift uncomfortably on his lap—slick beginning to pool between your thighs the deeper he kisses you.

The evidence of his own arousal pokes against your middle as well—leaving Chan a groaning mess each time you unknowingly jerk your hips to chase after the barest hint of friction. You don’t know where all this will lead nor do you know what comes after.

All that matters is that Chan is with you right here, right now.

Your clothes all come off one by one. Chan doesn’t forget to drag his lips across every inch of newly exposed skin—a quiet, unrelenting profession of his feelings. He wants to engrave himself into every part of you; to leave his mark so that you’ll remember him still even if he only gets to have you for the night.

But what Chan just doesn’t get is that your heart has already been set on him since the start.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers, trailing his calloused fingers along the sensitive curve of your waist when he lays you down on your back. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t like.”

It’s so Chan of him to be this concerned about your boundaries. But you don’t know how else to say that you want nothing more than to take things all the way aside from tugging him back down for another breathtaking kiss.

“Is it going to hurt?” you ask, genuinely curious, just a tad bit afraid.

Your best friend purses his lips, the heat of his body offering you some much needed comfort as he plants another kiss on the corner of your mouth. “It will for a while. But I’ll ease you into it and make you feel good. I promise.”

Chan says the words like you have anything but trust in him. You know he needs a verbal confirmation out of you, but you’re both too embarrassed and too aroused to give him the green light out loud. Instead, you nod your head twice—leaning closer to his ear to whisper:

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Your best friend sighs out something that suspiciously sounds like gods, I love you, before burying his face in your exposed chest—lips latching onto one of the pert nipples as he massages your other breast languidly. The wet sound of his mouth getting to work makes your face flush several shades of red and your sex to leak even more slick than it already has.

There’s just something so arousing about how careful Chan is with your body. He handles you like you’re the most precious thing in the world and throws your mind into an inexplicable haze.

But then again, maybe you’re just that in love with the guy.

You visibly tense underneath his touch when you feel him start to prod his fingers along your glistening seam. You’re so sensitive that you twitch from the slightest contact and Chan sighs a laugh into your chest when he feels it.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I can’t make you feel good if you’re too high-strung.”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff. “You’re not the one who’s about to be fucked into oblivion.”

Chan startles from how easily the words fall from your lips—mouth agape like a fish out of water. You wonder if you said something out of turn but when he kisses you for the millionth time today, you notice something else eclipsing his ready set gentleness.

Something more carnal.

“You can’t rile me up by talking so filthily like that,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m trying to be a good lover by taking things slow. Promise you won’t catch me off guard like that again?”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Chan, you know I don’t make promises I can’t keep. But I'll try~”

“Fuck. Alright. I can work with that.”

When he eases a finger inside your awaiting heat, you find the sensation a little uncomfortable. It’s like having something inside you that doesn’t quite belong there. Chan analyzes your reactions in the silence as he continues prodding your entrance—looking for any signs of discomfort like a hawk as he experimentally thrusts that single digit in and out of you.

“F-Feels weird,” you mumble. “Is it supposed to feel weird?”

“I guess you’d feel that way if it was your first time,” he chuckles and your eyes narrow at the implication behind his words. “But I’ve got to loosen you up if I don’t want to hurt you.”

So this wasn’t his first after all. Though you want nothing more than to hear tales about former escapades, you decide to grill him about it later.

You’re about to question how something like this can do that before Chan robs you of your capacity to think coherently, curling his slender finger inside you until he brushes a spot that has your muscles spasming underneath him. A wicked smile finds its way to his face as he slips in another finger so easily—the pads grazing that sensitive patch of flesh to coax out the same reaction from you.

“Still weird?” he laughs.

“Good…” you whimper, grinding your hips shamelessly into his hand. “Feels so good, Chan.”

Your best friend sighs as he watches you slowly cross the threshold between awkward curiosity and the beginnings of an enjoyable time. You’re wet and wanting—just like how he hoped you’d be and the way your tight walls clench around his fingers barely tempers the raw anticipation that sizzles in his veins.

Gentle. He needs to be gentle.

He doesn’t want to lose control when he’s waited oh-so long for this moment.

But god fucking damn are you making it so hard when you’re moaning so prettily for him.

“C-Chan,” you mewl and he feels you tighten even more around his digits. “It feels weird again… Like something’s coming.”

He sucks in a sharp breath before pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. The sensation makes you buck further into his hand and Chan can only do so much to keep himself from just fucking you into the bed.

“Let go,” he tells you before flicking his thumb across your puffy clit. “Let it all go, beautiful. Don’t be scared. I’m right here.”

The newfound stimulation blindsides you in a way you didn’t expect—reducing you into a mumbling mess of arousal beneath your best friend as he continues tracing tight circles around the sensitive nub. Your first (of many) orgasms crashes over you like a tidal wave and you sigh out his name so needily, he can barely contain himself for much longer.

But he doesn’t rush you no matter how pent up he is—he won’t, he won’t, he won’t.

Besides, the sight of you so fucked out from taking his fingers alone—lips parted, chest heaving, eyes pulling in and out of focus—is a reward in and of itself.

“You still with me?” your best friend checks in with a concerned look, wiping the sweat that beads across your forehead with the back of his hand.

But the moment his skin makes contact with yours again, you absentmindedly grab his hand—pressing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“I’ll always be with you.”

Gods above. He doesn’t deserve you.

When he’s sure you’re ready, Chan positions himself right before your entrance—carefully nudging your thighs apart as he fists the angry red erection he’s been sporting all night. The sight of his cock makes you blush, but you figure there’s no point in acting coy now that you’ve made it this far.

“You know what to do when I do something you don’t like, right?”

You nod—not really hearing the words with how transfixed you are on other things. “Y-Yes.”

Chan offers up a lazy smile. “That’s my girl.”

You take all of him inch by unbearable inch—your walls meeting the stretch that his girth offers with mild resistance. His fingers are child’s play compared to this and you force yourself to power through it despite how it burns.

Of course, Chan doesn’t miss a beat despite how hard you try to conceal your discomfort.

“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?” he asks with an apologetic smile, wiping the tears that are pooling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m sorry. Just a bit more and you’ll get used to it.”

“You promise?”

Your best friend brings an outstretched pinky close to your face—the same pinky with the ring that started all of this staring back at you. The moment you hook your own finger around his, your best friend murmurs:

“I promise.”

Chan is quite patient despite the fact that he’s balls-deep inside of you—keeping the innate desire to just ram his length into you until you’re a sobbing, crying mess for him. The Academy’s best graduate, the kingdom’s sweetheart, his perfect best friend. All reduced to tears on his cock.

“Chan,” you breathe in deeply, having finally accustomed yourself to how he stretches you out. “Y-You can move now.”

Shit. You sound so shy, so innocent.

How could he not give you what you want?

The first outward drag of his hips pulls a pretty little whimper out of you and an even prettier moan when he thrusts back in. Chan sighs as he minds the pace he’s set, cradling your face with one hand as he steadies you with the other.

“I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a featherlight kiss on your nose. “More than there are stars in the sky, more than how many flowers you’ll ask me to look after while you’re gone.”

His sweet words are subverted with a harsh thrust that he does experimentally to see how you’d react to it. When Chan doesn’t see any indication of pain or dislike, he repeats it—again and again until he can feel you coating his length in the slick of your leaking arousal.

“Feels so fucking good around me,” he rasps, keeping himself from biting into your shoulder because he isn’t sure of how you feel about those kinds of marks just yet. “Perfect… You’re so, so perfect. I’ve never loved anyone else as much as I love you.”

It feels a bit worrisome, admitting all this in the heat of it all. Chan fears that you would find his words a tad disingenuous. For all he knows, you’re thinking that it’s your wonderful cunt making him say all these sweet nothings.

But you’re too far gone yourself to even think about the specifics.

“Deeper,” you beg, lacing your fingers around his neck as more tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Need to feel you deeper, Chan.”

You’re going to be the death of him—this he’s finally sure of.

The fat head of his cock batters your poor, abused pussy with the vigor of someone who’s been waiting for you all his life. Chan babbles out a mantra of compliments and praise all strung together in a haze of pleasurable delirium as your nails start to rake across his back.

“Want you to be mine forever,” he sighs against your lips—his hot breath fanning against your face. “Can I have you? For the rest of my life?”

Even in the throes of passion, the answer comes to you so easily.

“I’m yours,” you cry out as he angles his cock just right and grazes the spot that makes you see stars. “I’m yours, Chan. Always yours. Forever yours.”

Your mind crumbles as your release crests out of nowhere—coherence draining from every recess of your mind while Chan fucks you through your high. He snaps his hips unforgivingly as he chases his own orgasm. His fingers leave red imprints on your thighs with how firmly they dig into your supple flesh and they stay there even when he finally pinpoints his release.

The two of you collapse onto the mattress with shallow breaths, sweat-slicked skin sticking to each other with how close your bodies are. When your mind finally returns to the shores of reality, you dare to crack your eyes open—only to see your best friend looking back at you with a tired smile.

This is the man who saw you cry over a stick fort that he accidentally stepped on when you were kids.

The one who thinks you’re still pretty even when your face is rife with tears and snot.

The one who skips stones with you in the river at sunset.

The one who keeps you warm by the fireplace during every winter.

The one who defended you from classmates who accused you of being a fraud that rode on her father’s coattails.

The one you’ll gladly spend the rest of your life with.

You think you should find it strange how Joshua suddenly comes to mind now that you’re finally where you want to be. But if it weren’t for him, you never would’ve gotten that final push to be selfish—to choose yourself for once and not feel any ounce of remorse for doing so.

If it weren’t for him, you never would’ve felt what true happiness feels like.

“So…” your best friend starts as he pulls a blanket over your naked bodies. “For tonight’s pillow talk, you get to decide the topic of interest.”

You snort. “Okay. What are my choices?”

“Hm. The first is: what are we going to do now that we’re together-together when the entire kingdom still thinks you’re still Prince Joshua’s fiancé? You still owe me a story about how the engagement fell through, by the way. Unless I’m actually a homewrecker…?”

Rolling your eyes, you playfully slap his chest. “What’s the second option?”

He grins at you cheekily. “What pet names can I use on you while we’re having sex because…I honestly held back the entire time ‘cause I didn’t know what you were comfortable with.”

“I don’t really mind anything,” you say. “Just…nothing too degrading?”

“Alright.” Chan nods. “What do you say about lovebug?”

The suggestion is met with a scowl, making Chan giggle underneath the covers.

“Not a fan? How about my little dew drop? My chrysalis blooming into a beautiful butterfly? My hundred year-old tree that never ceases to amaze me with your beauty? My spectacle in an endless galaxy? My—”

“Lee Jung Chan, if you don’t shut up right now, I might just march back to the capital right this moment after all.”

Chan responds to your threat with a needy whine as he cages you around his arms. Your best friend nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck with a sulky pout.

“No! You’re mine. I don’t care if everyone else thinks otherwise.” He huffs and you entertain him with a laugh before Chan eventually disentangles himself from you—the playful expression on his face morphing into something more sobering.

“I was serious about the first pillow talk suggestion, by the way,” he murmurs. “Once the news breaks out, it isn’t going to be easy for any of us.”

“I know.”

Chan raises an eyebrow at your nonchalance. “Hm? You’re usually the type to psych yourself out way too much when problems like this arise. Who are you and what did you do to my worrywart of a best friend?”

Paying his teasing no mind, you lean in to press your lips to his. The moment Chan’s shoulders sink in surrender, you smile against his mouth.

“Honestly? I don’t really care about what happens,” you admit, tracing the outline of his chest with your finger. “As long as I’m with you, I think we’ll be alright.”

Chan is quiet for a while—a loving look glazing over his eyes at the sight of you.

“Yeah.”

Your best friend presses another kiss to your temple, lacing your fingers together.

Two forget-me-nots finally find their way back to each other.

“We’ll be alright.”

⟢ end notes: and that concludes the longest oneshot i've ever written for a seventeen member :') honestly considered breaking this into parts, but decided not to in the end bcs telling their story in one go felt like the best way to go about it! shoutouts to my good buddies and pals from svthub for the constant support and pep talk they offered while i was writing this monster of a fic. freya, my bridgerton sunbae, and zeta, my favorite wonwoorideul (real), thank you tons for your lovely input <3 your silly comments on the doc always made me smile. ofc i won't forget nana who gave me an...interesting list of pet names chan would unironically use on his s/o lol that said, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoy the other fics posted under the spring collab! all writers who contributed poured their hearts into each piece <3

this is part of the secret garden, a svthub spring collab and the it's complicated series!

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen smut #dino smut #lee chan smut #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #svt fanfic #lovelyhan #📖 collabs #full length fic 📚#🐇 i always need queue

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