#// out of character tag banter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angelltheninth · 3 months ago

Text

Arcane Characters Find Out You Haven't Had Your First Kiss Yet

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn Kiramman, Maddie Nolen, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce Talis, Mel Medarda x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, first kiss, flirting, banter, shyness, gentle kissing, musundertsnadings, age-gap, experiance gap

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: I have kissed people before and I know I wanna kiss all of them too. They deserve kisses, they need kisses.

"Ya've been starin' at me for an awful long time now. Not that I mind, your eyes are real pretty, sugar. But ya've got me all curious now." Jinx invaded your personal space like it was no big deal and leaned in so you had but inches between you.

You pressed your lips together and fidgeted in your seat. "You... I was wondering have you kissed anyone before?"

"Well here and there but not recently. I've got someone I really wanna kiss now." She pointed at you and tucked a hair behind your ear. "Wanna make out? I don't have any important things to do for a few hours?"

"Few hours? People make out for that long? Wait no, that's not what I want to do. I was curious cause I never kissed anyone and I was wondering if you... maybe wanted to kiss me?" With a slightly bashful tone you met her shiny purple eyes which only seemed to get brighter as she closed in.

"Do I wanna kiss ya? I wanted to since I saw ya! Been waitin' to get asked. Ya know, gentlewoman and all that shit." She wasn't one, not by a longshot but she also knew she could cross boundaries easily, this was one where she was more than willing to wait. "Pucker up quick!" You only had a second to react before harsh lips closed over yours, her thin but strong arms locking you in place on the chair. "Mwah!" Jinx cackled when she pulled back. "There. That's one thing to cross of your list. Can't wait for more." Winking she spun around in her chair and did a little happy dance.

Everyone knew Vi was a bold one, what she wanted she went for, often with little questions asked. She spent the whole date taking initiative, taking your hand, showing you the best places in Zaun, and a few at Piltover too, although she didn't know as many that were cooler than Zaun's. At the end of it she walked your home.

"I live in a safe neighborhood, Vi. There's no need for this." You argued as you fished for your keys to unlock the door. As you did you had full intention to invite her in.

"You never know when someone might try something. You're too cut to pass up on, sweet thing like you, bound to attract eyes. People might get ideas. Like this." Before you knew it, she pressed both hands against your hips and kissed your neck. You nearly dropped the keys when you felt the bolt of excitement run through your body. "See what I mean?"

Gulping you turned your head to hers. "Y-Yeah." She smirked and cupped your chin with the opposite hand, bringing you closer. "Vi, hold on." You turned your head back towards the door. "I never kissed anyone before." The whisper pierced through all the horny energy in Vi's body.

Her hands dropped from your hips. "Oh. Well now I feel like an ass. Since you let me walk you back and all, I thought... sorry I don't know what I thought. Do you want me to leave?" She waited for you to turn around and was surprised when you cupped her cheeks and leaned in. Her eyes widened for a moment before closing, right as your lips met in the middle. The grip on your hips returned, but it wasn't as strong as before. She wasn't the only one who could initiate.

You could look far and wide and you wouldn't find a bigger gentlewoman than Caitlyn. She asked if anything she did was wanted, if it was okay, if you liked it. Some of it came from her Academy days, some from her upbringing but she was never pushy with you.

It was actually you that noticed she was glancing at your lips a little too often while you were helping her sort out through the many documents she apparently had to bring home to work on. "Today was supposed to be our date, seems to me like you're dating your work as much as you're dating me." You teased and watched her huff.

"That is not true. You are infinitely more attractive, darling. I wouldn't kiss the papers but I would kiss you any day." Caitlyn flirted back and set the mentioned papers down. "In fact... I could use a little break from this. And you're right, tonight is our date night. So, tell me," Caitlyn walked up to your side of the desk and leaned on her hands, her face above yours, "would you do me the honor of kissing me?"

A heavy blush bloomed on your face as you felt caught in her crosshairs. When she got serious about something she saw it though until the end. That's how she was looking at you now. "I'd love to kiss you, Cait."

She chuckled at your breathless tone. "I'll go slow. It's your first kiss, right? I figured from the way you'd blush and turn your head when I'd lean in." Her gloved hands slid over your hands, giving them a comforting squeeze. "Close your eyes for me, darling." The moment you did you felt her lips against yours, perfectly falling into place.

"You're joking, aren't you? You haven't kissed anyone? No one? Not even a little?" She tried to hide her amused smile behind her hand but it was futile. You rolled your eyes at Maddie and then threw a pillow in at her head.

"First, how do you kiss someone a little? And second, you know I've barely dated before this. You're the first girl I'm kinda serious about. Thought that waiting to have my first kiss would be... you know romantic?" You shrugged and hugged the other pillow close to your chest. Maddie let out a loud 'awww' and hugged you tight, kissing your cheek.

She laughed when you tried to push her away for making fun of you.

"Now hold on. I think that is really sweet of you, love. Not many people out there have your romatic mind and I love that about you. Also, real sweet that you want to kiss me out of everyone." Her hands pressed upon your shoulders and her smiling face approached yours. "Do I get to do that now or...?"

You could see how eager she seemed now that she learned all this new information. "I mean... if you want." Your hug around the pillow tightened as you tried to will yourself to calm down. On the outside you were calmer, ever pushing back into the kiss, sighing contently against Maddie's lips, but on the inside, you were a damn mess of anxiety. "Shhh, it's just me, remember?" She cooed against your lips and waited for you to relax, massaging your shoulders before leaning in for a second, longer kiss.

This was more of a dare than you wanting to kiss anyone tonight. It wasn't your fault that all your friends knew about your big crush on Ekko and roped you into a game of darts that you lost and therefore had to walk over to him and kiss him. Your friends watched you fumble over to him, all giggling.

Ekko looked at you a little bewildered. "Look, don't ask, this was all their idea." You pointed behind yourself at your friends. "They dared me to kiss you so, if you wanna kiss me... you know, cool

"I've got nothing against kissing you, firefly, but I'm a little confused. Thought you didn't mess 'round with friends like that." Ekko did, you knew but you always thought that if you crossed that line with him there would be no bottling your feelings back up. And standing here in front of him, asking for a kiss, you knew that was true.

"I don't mess around with friends. But they won't leave me alone about not kissing anyone yet and you were the safest bet. Plus..." You moved from foot to foot, like that would shake off your nerves. "I like you, Ekko. As more than a friend. I have for a while."

All the chatter from around the two of you seemed to fall into a void. Ekko opened his mouth to say something but you kissed him before he could, too scared of a rejection and too high strung to think about the fact that you might never get this chance again. But to your surprise he kissed back, his full lips pressing hard against yours. "Thought you'd never come out and say it. Damn, been waiting to hear those words since forever." Ekko hushed against you before he dragged his lips from the corner of your mouth to your ear. "I like you too." He confessed with a whisper.

"Don't you let what those assholes said get to you, darlin', their mouth is bigger than their brain." Vander cleaned the dirty glasses behind the bar as you handed them to him one after another.

You grimaced, remembering all the teasing, quite rude teasing might you add, that you endured before Vander stepped in. "I could have kicked them out myself. Besides what do they care if I'm dating you? Not like you gave me the job because of it." They said a lot more than that but you didn't even want to go through all of it.

"Hey, you do great work here. The kids love you; I love you. All that talk about tradin' favors, bunch of bullshit, that's what it is. Besides, I know you've kept to yourself more than others around here. Got nothin' against that. If anything, makes me a bit nervous. I mean, you really want this old man to be your first at everything?" He scratched the back of your head as he remembered the night when you cuddled and you confessed, he would really be your first everything, not just your first relationship. Since then, he'd been a bit jumpier.

"Vander, you're a bit more than a decade older than me. We're both old. And when you get to my age and you haven't done anything, people talk. So, I can't really blame them for thinking what they do about me getting a job here. It's shitty yeah, but like you said, they're just assholes. I want you to be my first kiss, first everything." You confessed and suddenly you noticed Vander wasn't cleaning glasses anymore. He still had the glass and the rag in his hand but he wasn't moving at all.

You seem to have stunned him with your words. There was an old story you remember, about a kiss breaking a sleeping woman from her slumber. With a cheeky grin you pushed yourself up on the bar to get high enough to kiss him. Vander let out a sound of surprise but quickly melted into the kiss. The sound of the glass shattering also shattered the quiet moment you shared and you parted, laughing. "Well, I'll be damned. Seems like there are still things that surprise me."

Silco didn't hear anything from you about the status of you kissing or not kissing anyone. He heard it from Jinx, who heard it from Sevika. And to think one of your best friends would rat you out to her boss' daughter like that. "I'll kill that mouthy bi-" Your threat stopped on your lips, silenced by thin lips. "Silco... what the fuck?"

"What? From how I heard it, you really wanted to kiss me, but were to scared of looking desperate. Best to get things like this over with fast, otherwise they clog up your brain with unnecessary worries." He spoke like a true businessman. And at his core he was one, a corrupted one, and really good at his job.

Still, you looked at him, blinking slowly, still feeling his lips against yours. Your fingertips touched the tingly flesh.

"Silco... that was my first kiss! You asshole!" You pushed him and he did take a few steps backwards. "This is why you can never tell anything to anyone around here!"

Like it was messy he fixed his tie and vest, tugging until they were to his standard again. Then he walked up to you again, his orange eye trained on you like a cat's eye on a little mouse. "Did you hate that I did it? I was never good at asking for permission when I wanted something, or forgiveness. However, if you need an apology from me, I might consider it."

Despite the imposing presence you weren't scared of him at all. "For god’s sake, Silco, I didn't hate it. You could have put more effort in it though. You know, make it more romantic for a lady, sweep her off her feet and take her out to dinner." It was like this man did every romantic thing backwards. He slept with you before he asked you out, he never even asked you out officially, just told you he liked spending time with you, and now this. "You're hopeless sometimes."

When she heard what you said she couldn't help but let out a full belly laugh at it. "Jerk! I'm being serious!" You smacked your fists against her shoulder, which only made the big brawler of a woman laugh more. Sevika never had the most tact or subtlety, or was the best at keeping her emotions in.

"I know you are! Which is why it's so damn funny. I mean shit, sweetheart, haven't kissed anyone? I see you tearing up that dance floor every night with me. You're telling me no one ever got lucky enough to kiss you on the lips? On the other lips maybe?" She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"You're gross sometimes, you know that." You smacked her on the bicep again, and at the next attempt she grabbed your wrist and pulled you into her lap. Your whole body went hot when her thigh flexed between your legs. "Sevika, what are you up to?"

Sevika grinned wolfishly as her hand grabbed your ass. "I'm about to kiss you. Tell me if you want me to stop." She wasn't exactly asking but she also didn't want to force this on you. When you didn't put up and resistance and tugged her a bit closer by her shirt, she leaned in to capture your lips. Like with everything else she couldn't be gentle, she didn't do gentle. The kiss was rough, passionate, with too much tongue for you who never kissed anyone before. "I'm gonna teach you how to do that better."

"Will you?" You asked all breathless and with wide pupils. One simple kiss made your whole body feel like fireworks were going off. "Better make up for you making fun of me."

Viktor was very perceptive of things that interested him. You were one of those things, even before you became his girlfriend he always listened when you talked about anything. It was his first clue that he liked was in love with you.

He noticed you always seemed to be looking down at his lips more than the things he was writing whenever he was explaining something. "You know, if you want to kiss me, it's as simple as asking." He teased as his fingers traced the pages; he was reading out to you.

"O-Oh. You noticed that did you?" You looked away at the big wall of notes behind him then back at his smiling, knowing face. "Who am I kidding, of course you did. Don't get me wrong, I want to kiss you, Viktor. But I'm also nervous because it'll be my first kiss." He closed the book, with a bit more of a thumping sound than it was warranted. As quickly as he could he crossed the distance between the two of you. His hand lifted yours to his lips.

As shy as he could be with his touches, sparing even, reserved, he found it very easy to touch you and it made your heart skip a few beats every time. Viktor was comfortable with you; he teased you like it was no big deal and would hold your hand when walking through the halls.

"I must confess, darling, I don't have much experience with kissing, or anything of a romantic or intimate nature. I've only been in a few precious relationships before. However, if you allow me, I would love to be your first kiss, today." He emetized the time with a kiss on your fingers, then your knuckles, then across your arm, your jaw. And finally... your lips.

"Do you want to be my first-" You couldn't ask anything more because you heard and saw Jayce drop the hammer he was holding on his foot and was now leaning against his desk, cursing under his breath. "Kiss. My first kiss, Jayce. Get your brilliant mind out of the gutter."

His cheeks got hot when your eyes met across the room. "Your first kiss. Uh... you never kissed anyone before now, babe? Sorry if it sounds like a dumb question but... how? I mean you're the most beautiful, amazing woman I know!"

When he finally put his foot down, confidant that it was okay to do so, he scratched the back of his neck, further adding to his confused look. You sighed. "Thank you for saying all of that. I suppose I wanted it to be special. You told me you've managed to find a breakthrough in your research, so I wanted to reward you, and myself." As you approached him, he got a big, dumb grin that stretched all over his face.

"I see. A reward. If I knew I'd be getting one I'd spend more sleepless nights here." He wrapped his arms around your body when you stepped close and pressed your bodies close.

"No, you wouldn't. I would drag you back to your bed if that's what I had to do to make you sleep properly." And you really would have done that. For right now though Jayce did a good job, and giving him your first kiss was a reward. Jayce approached you slowly, taking great care to be gentle when kissing you, to not get too carried away. He didn't, he kept it to a gentle, long kiss, but quickly got in a few more when you tried to pull away. "You giant dork."

Mel gave you a goodnight kiss but as soon as she felt you stiffen, she pulled back. She frowned when she noticed how nervous you looked. "What's the matter? Darling, are you cold? Your hands are shaking?" She ran her thumbs over the back of your hands.

"Nervous is more like it. That was my first kiss." You said with a shy smile and tried to go in for a second one. But this time Mel stopped you, her hand acting as a barrier between you two. "Hm? What?"

"Your first kiss. And you only tell me that after I've kissed you. Have I known I wouldn't have rushed into it." She sighed heavily and looked almost guilty. She kept replaying her interactions with you in her mind, you were very confident on your date, you flirted with her quite boldly too. And when you kissed her hand, she thought you wanted more.

"What? No, Mel, I'm happy my first kiss was with you! It was perfect!" You quickly spoke up to assure her. "If I didn't want it, I would have stopped you before. But holy crap, do you have any idea how much I wanted to kiss you?! I mean honestly, do you! I hardly worked up the nerve to ask you out tonight." You scratched your cheek nervously and avoided her eyes. This felt a little embarrassing to admit when you worked so hard to remain calm and project and air of confidence with her.

Chucking into her hand, Mel cupped your cheek with the other. "Is that so? If that's all then I'm glad. You don't have to pretend with me. I can assure you too, if I didn't like you, I wouldn't have said yes to our date. Much less kissed you. However, if you would allow it, I would like to re-do that kiss." Mel took your chin between her fingers and brushed her thumb against your lower lip, parting your lips just a bit before kissing you again.

2K notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 30 days ago

Text

my dress up darling • ony

convincing your friend to go to a convention with you turned out to be the best idea ever!…but it’s what happens before the event even arrives that makes it all the more fun..

blerd!ony, black fem!reader (plus size coded), PWP, finger sucking, thigh riding, fingering, handjob, pet names used (mama, baby, she slips up and calls him daddy), lots of praise, tit/nipple play, nasty hotel sex, tiny mentions of blood + injury, reader is a seamstress/cosplayer, missionary, squirting, friends to lovers, lots of humor and banter, creampie aftercare

word count: 6.3K

this was a lil something I’ve been wanting to write for the longest bc blerd!ony altered my brain chemistry and I miss him tremendously (if you’ve read this before, no u didn’t 🙄 and if it’s ur first time, please enjoy! )

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Ow..damn, this hurts already..”

“You good over there, mama? What’s wrong?”

the deep voice belted out in a rather low and calm tone..cool and collected, that’s how he always was. Nonchalant to a fault and that was just one of the many things you loved about him. Hence why you had invited him along to this little venture in the first place. However, at the moment…you quite frankly could not stand his ass! Through gray colored contacts, (y/n) shot the tall male next to you an icy glare..one signifying just how ‘good’ you were!

“Oh, I’m just fine, Ony. Despite the fact that my legs are still shaking and I’m sore as hell.”

a statement that should not have garnered a single chuckle out of anyone had your very handsome homeboy doubling over in laughter. He could tell by the look on your face that you were still a little peeved at him for the previous night and this morning. Honestly, you’d never want to fight a single person in your life but if you thought you could beat him, you’d ask him to spar just one time. “What the hell is so funny?” “Nothing at all, you just seem a lil’ stressed.” Feigning his humor as he pressed the key fob to lock the doors of his 2022 Camaro..a beautiful specimen, much like the man driving it. Honestly, it should’ve been illegal to be this fine but you knew exactly what you were signing up for when you decided to come to this convention with him! Three days full of dressing up, video games and all of the collectible items and rare figurines that one’s nerdy little heart could desire. It was an event that you had been looking forward to for months and it was only the icing on the cake when your favorite cashier turned cosplay buddy decided to tag along! You’d discovered Onyakopon’s, or just Ony as everyone called him; his love for nerdy things after you came into his store on a late night with a random anime shirt on and he was all hyped to see someone else that looked like him, especially a girl..that was into this same stuff. Since that day, the two of you spoke every chance you got to gush over your favorite shows and game series, all but holding up the lines to do so. Soon, that bond carried over outside of his workplace and the two of you began hanging out. Even going to a manga and anime cafe for your first outing. You were so excited to have a friend who shared your similar interests. Eventually, you divulged to Ony that you were a cosplayer and that’s when he stumbled upon your Instagram page. Which was littered with photos of you in beautiful costumes…some very detailed and intricate and others..very revealing and sexy! Make no mistake, he drew an issue with neither one but to see your duality from a girl who walked around in long graphic tees with characters on them and sweatpants to seeing you with your ass out, dressed as one of his fictional crushes, had him very conflicted! But what impressed him even more was the fact that each one of those beautiful outfits you were wearing?

You had hand sewn each one yourself! Spending weeks at a time crafting each one. Hence why your page was so much more bare than other girls he’d seen doing the same craft. It wasn’t that you loved it any less, you just didn’t have the luxury of tossing on any old, run of the mill Amazon ensemble from some third party buyer whose plus sizes looked like they’d fit a middle schooler at best. So instead of giving it up altogether, you took the liberty of learning how to stitch them together yourself to ensure the perfect fit. So naturally, it came as no surprise that when you revealed this secret to him, he wanted you to curate his very first cosplay as well! Ony had long since dreamed of dressing up as characters such as Kratos, Jin Kazuma and all the other badass video game giants he adored. Not only did go out and purchase hundreds of dollars worth of materials for you to make his dream costume come to life, but he offered to cover the costs of everything for the weekend. Just because he was so gracious to you and excited to be going. You made it your mission to ensure that he’d be left in awe when he put it on! The character in question? None other than Shao Kahn from Mortal Kombat and you decided to accompany him as the antagonist’s wife, Sindel. You both looked incredible. But leading up this moment, things had gotten a little out of control, thanks to your companion over there!..who didn’t seem to be phased at all.

“Aye listen, to be fair, you started it. I just finished it.” Prompting you to smack your lips and cut your eyes at the shirtless male. Who was glistening in the sunlight and not making matters any better. “Whatever, I think you were betting on sum’ shit like that to happen.” “Shit, I ain’t mad that it did and I know you not either.”

but just what was Ony referring to? Well…it all began last night in the hotel room…

flashback

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───

“Ony! Can you stay still, please? I’m tryna finish this last piece.”

“C’mon, ma. Can’t you do it later on?”

“If it gets any later, imma be sleep so no. You can pause that damn game and wait for me to finish sewing this on.”

it was around eight thirty at night..dark had fallen cast over the skies and faint crackles of thunder resounded throughout the air. Luckily, the two of you were safe from any potential storms in the confines of your spacious hotel room. A luxury, double bed suite at the Best Western; only two blocks away from the convention venue. The last thing either of you wanted to be worried about was having to drive forever to get there and then have no parking or having to wait in a long line. It was a mistake you’d made several times when attending these events alone but Ony wanted his very first time to be absolutely perfect. Not to mention, he didn’t want you having to walk far in your heels. DragonCon was by far one of the largest conventions in the country and people of all kinds came to the illustrious event to have fun, make friends and of course, show off their cosplays. You and Ony had decided on the video game greats, Sindel and Shao Kahn from Mortal Kombat. You had loved Sindel since you first began playing the series and she became your favorite. So a year ago, you decided to craft her iconic purple suit and the staff to go along with it. So you were all set aside. But he wasn’t going to be as easy…because at the moment, while you were trying to put together the final touches on his outfit, he was clicking away at a controller, which made it difficult to get the stitching right. But you knew how it went…when you found yourself gridlocked in an important match or battle and couldn’t stop at the moment.

“Awww, c’mon! You keep blocking, bro. I hate this damn combo—“

it was at that moment when you were bringing the curved needle up through the loin cloth piece and securing the stitch, did he jump and not only cause you to lose balance, but send that needle right through your finger! Poking the index pad and breaking the skin. “OW!” On instinct, you’d jump back and immediately, Ony dropped his controller, finally breaking focus on what he was doing. You were bleeding but nothing too major. Alas though, he felt instantaneously guilty and reached for you. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Making an attempt to check on you. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel bad so you’d downplay your pain and try to brush it off. But he was quick to run to the bathroom to grab some paper and bandages to help clean it up. “Here, you sit down..I got you.” You could tell he was remorseful by the way he flew into action but it was just a part of the craft. You’d lost count of how many times you’d singed yourself with a hot glue gun or poked yourself with a needle. Hell, you still had a giant scar on your arm from the time you sliced it, trying to cut material for a prop. It was certainly on the tamer side of the injuries you’d sustained. But just knowing that he was even remotely responsible for your pain, he couldn’t handle that.

“Ony, I’m fine. Really..I’ll just wrap it up later..”

“Nah, I should’ve stopped like you said. That’s my fault.” There was a sudden shift in his tone and you didn’t like it! There was no need for him to feel guilty. But here he was, sitting next to you on the bed as he gently cusped your hand and began first aid. He was a true sweetheart if you’d ever met one. He’d start by wiping it away and cleaning it thoroughly. You told him that a bandaid would only get in the way and keep snagging so you’d just leave it uncovered.

“You good? How you feel?” A question that elicited a laugh from you. You didn’t understand why he was so worked up over something so trivial. “I told you I’m okay. You ain’t got to worry, I’m a big girl. It’s gon’ take more than a lil’ ass needle to break me.” It was then that the two of you found yourselves face to face on the edge of the bed. Everything else had seemed to fall silent or as menial background noise. You noticed that he couldn’t stop staring at you and that he was still clutching your hand. Those deep set eyes of his remained focused on you as he casually slid his thumb across your own. “Yeah..I know. But I just wanna make you straight, that’s all..you know I care about you.” The sentiment sends flutters throughout your stomach. He was so sweet and attentive..it really shocked you that no woman had snatched him up already. He was incredibly handsome, respectful and always kind. You were happy to have someone like him in your life.

“I appreciate that..I’m just happy you decided to come with me. It means a lot. I usually do this by myself so I feel a lot better with you around.”

by now, the mood had shifted from slightly intense to..something far more sensual. Serene and quiet, as if the two of you were lovers confessing your feelings under moonlight. Truth be told, you’d never pictured yourselves as anything other than friends up until that moment. But you were always each other’s ‘person’. Attached and glued at the hip and loving the sense of happiness you brought one another. This peace and safety that came with knowing you could be your authentic selves. Inching closer, Ony would bridge the gap of space between your bodies and place a hand on your thigh. “Well you know I wouldn’t have missed this for anything..getting to be alone with you? It’s the highlight of my year..dressing up and getting to experience my first con with my fine ass girl? I couldn’t ask for better.” You’d feel your skin run hot and pangs shooting off in your stomach as he uttered the words in that deep drawl. You couldn’t believe he was so infatuated with you. Granted, you were beautiful and there wasn’t a time that you doubted yourself but he was unreal. Those pearly white teeth, that gorgeous dark skin, chiseled physique and that height..he nearly drove you insane when you were measuring him for all the pieces and you caught a glimpse of that v-line! Right now, your minds were on a one track path and there was no chance of it derailing.

“..Ony..”

because of this, neither of you could fight your urges a second longer and he’d pose a question you’d been dying to hear. “..Can I kiss you? Lemme thank you for helping me..” and without hesitation.. “I think you know the answer.” ..you gave him the green light. In a matter of moments, he’d curl a finger underneath your chin before pulling your face closer and pressing your mouths together. His soft lips collided with your own and eventually, you’d begin to make out. Shoving your tongues around inside of each other’s jaws. Your palm would creep up to cup his face and you’d find yourselves locked in a heated moment of passion. You found yourselves tangled up; hands colliding and caressing the opposite frame and by the time you came up for air, yours were roaming underneath his tank top and his were all up your slightly parted thighs.

“Here..sit on my lap.” Commanding with such suaveness, you couldn’t move fast enough as those perfectly manicured fingers waved you towards him. Ony would chew at his lower lip after licking; his signature mannerism when he was feeling a bit aroused by you. He’d done it so many times, that he had to quell it and be on his best behavior. But now, he couldn’t be too vexed to do so. He wanted you and you’d realize just how much before the night was over. You’d follow his command, propping yourself on his muscular thigh. It was decorated by a single tattoo of Shenron from Dragon Ball Z, surrounded by the eight balls. It was such beautiful work but if Ony could be rather frank…he wanted nothing more than to have you grinding yourself on it or watch that ass clap against it! A depraved thought but a real one nonetheless.

“I think you deserve a break, baby..been working so hard tryna’ get me right…lemme take care of you for a lil’ bit.” It was once you were stationed on his lap with those legs slightly parted, did he resume those sloppy yet gentle pecks. Intermittently shoving his tongue into your mouth. He’d slowly trail those fingertips across your covered skin; still sheathed by those tights underneath your skirt that you’d worn at dinner. Rips had plagued the inner corners as they’d always done…it was nearly impossible for you to keep those or a pair of fishnets with how thick your flesh was. That didn’t seem to bother him at all though. To Ony, it was the most attractive shit a woman could have. He loved how soft and supple your skin was..always scented with cocoa butter and that sweet perfume he loved so much. He loved how your features just made everything you wore, cosplay or otherwise..look so accentuated. He couldn’t get enough. Meanwhile, those nimble digits worked their way up your skirt and stopped just a centimeter short of your aching center. Unbeknownst to him, this was the first time you’d been so close to a man and in such an intimate setting. But make no mistake, you weren’t scared. In fact, you invited the idea of having him be the first one to ‘deflower’ you.

“You gon’ let me do that, baby?..Can I play with this pretty pussy?..”

the lewd question sending pangs throughout the pit of your belly. You didn’t even hesitate to provide him an answer and before you knew it, he was ripping out the seat of those tights and peeling your panties back. As he suspected, you were dripping. He just knew you’d be some pressure but this was his first bit of confirmation. As you sat idly on his lap, Ony began to toy around with your cunt. Brushing ever so slightly over that clit and running his finger pads along your folds and lips..it was so sticky and he was certain that it tasted even better. A theory he’d put to the test soon enough. However, at the moment, he just wanted to get you stimulated. He wanted to see those cute little reactions when he rubbed on your aching bud and teased it over your hole. Your arm clenched around the back of his neck as you held on for leverage. You’d watch his every move. Following his pace step for step and it was agonizing to see him going so slowly. You needed him to do his worst already!

“Mmm…I knew this shit was gon’ be wet but damn..look at my fingers already and I ain’t even stuck ‘em in..”

referring to the copious amounts of slick coating the tips as he swiped up and down. Over the sound of the crisp air blowing from the vents, he could hear your stirred up secretions, only growing by the minute. And of course, those cute little moans escaping your throat. “Ony…fuck.” “Oh you like that, huh? Like when I play in this pretty hole, don’t you, mama?” All but rhetorically questioning when he finally decided to plunge his middle and index inside simultaneously; nearly making you come undone right there. You couldn’t even elicit a response until he gained a rhythm and slowly worked you over. A single strand of drool seeped from your lips as he gently thrusted those digits back and forth. He could sense just how tight you were from his digits alone. The anticipation to be inside of you was growing stronger. But for now, he’d hide his time and focus solely on your pleasure. Those gentle brown eyes were fluttering and had even rolled back whilst you rolled your hips in a circular motion to meet his movements while incoherent babble left your mouth. But that wouldn’t suffice..he needed to hear you say it.

“Unt uh..use your words, baby. I need to know I’m making you feel good..” and alas, he’d get his answer when he sped up his pace and clutched a hand around your throat. Squeezing ever so slightly to garner his desired reaction. Ony wouldn’t consider himself to be super dominant by any means but he loved taking control to show his girl she had nothing to worry about.

“Y-yeah, daddy. It feels so fucking good.” The name slipping out casually as you pounced up and down on those two fingers. You’d felt a slight tinge of embarrassment but Ony on the other hand? Felt empowered. He never really cared for the term but hearing you utter it with those mellifluous moans, he was reconsidering! In fact, he needed to hear it again. “That’s my good girl…here, lemme take this off too.” Referencing your tube top that had been housing those ample breasts and concealed under your sweater at the restaurant. For now though, he wanted to see his gifts unwrapped. “Fuck..these big ass titties so pretty, baby. I love the way they sit up..”

it was then that he’d bury his face between them and alternate between each one’s nipple while his fingers remained nestled inside of that warmth. They’d slowly work around, twisting until they prodded your g-spot and his tongue swirled those brown buds, lapping and licking. A combination of the stimulating movements had caused you to make quite the mess of his leg with creamy juices spilling forth. You were squirming, becoming restless and in need of an orgasm already. But Ony was enjoying this far more than he should and couldn’t be vexed to stop right now.

“You so fucking pretty, baby. I swear I be so happy when you’re around..”

doting on you constantly whilst working over your sweet spot. He could tell just how excited you had become, just by the way you writhed and squealed as well. In truth, you’d never been in a situation quite like this one. You look so salacious yet so innocent and it wasn’t something that was lost on Ony. In fact, he wanted to further exploit it..

“Open that mouth..” the command followed by you promptly obeying and him gliding those same digits that were just inside of you onto your tongue. It was such a cute sight..watching you suckle on his fingers with those brown doe eyes fixated on him. This was something that he could never grow tired of..reducing his pretty little best friend to his adorable slut! You’d whimper heavily around those digits, moaning and still rutting yourself against his exposed upper thigh. Meanwhile, he was pushing those digits in and out, even getting you to gag and drool a bit from the movements. “Fuck…there you go. Suck them fingers, baby. Taste that pretty pussy f’r me. Yeah, you know your shit good. Fine ass..” which prompted you to giggle. It wasn’t a compliment you received often and honestly, you never doubted that you were beautiful but it was something about him affirming you that made your heart flutter. Suddenly, his low drawl ascended a half a pitch higher when you’d snake your smaller hand into his shorts. You’d continue to be pacified on his fingers whilst jerking him off. You were inconsolable and when you noticed that very visible tent in his bottoms, you had to move.

“Oh my gosh—shit…keep playing wit’ it, just like that…stroke that fucking dick..” growling as he forced his digits a little more down your throat; depressing your tongue along the way and causing you to keep emitting drool. Which served as the perfect lubricant to his already leaking cock. “Mmmm…Ony. Need you to fuck me..” “..you want this dick, baby?” Neither of you could take much more of this teasing and when he’d utter the fateful question, asking if you wanted to go further, you didn’t even hesitate. Despite never being intimate with a man prior. Your only partners were women or your lovely assortment of toys that you’d stashed away in your dresser. Honestly, with your arsenal..you saw little to no need to even entertain these dudes. Any feeling or sensation they could bring forth, your Rose Toy and Bad Dragon could replicate times ten! However, it was something about Ony and the way he made you feel. Not just in an erotic sense, but an emotional one as well. You felt so safe and comfortable in his presence, that it only felt natural to submit. He brought forth your feminine energy and allowed you to thrive in it.

“Here, lay down f’r me, mama. Just like that..and keep them legs spread.”

upon giving you instructions, he’d long since removed you from his lap and allowed you lie flat against the mattress; just awaiting his next move. Your tits were still sitting up, spilled out of the tube top, shuffled around your belly..and those sheer fishnets were as good as torn. It was such a sexy view, that Ony didn’t even want to undress you. However, he stripped all of his clothing down and immediately joined you back on the bed. He’d hover above you with his shaft in hand, stroking slowly. The expression on your face told it all…and he couldn’t help but to laugh. “What’s wrong, baby? You look nervous.” To which all you could do was swallow the lump in your throat. Granted, you didn’t know what an actual human’s length was supposed to look like but from the girth of his and how nearly reached the end of his thigh, nervous was an understatement. What if you couldn’t handle it? What if you embarrassed yourself?!..

“Well don’t be..you know imma take my time witchu’..I been waiting on this a long time.” Whispering to you as he leaned down and met your gaze with warm eyes and gentle smile. Brushing your cheek with that cock still in his opposite palm, he’d place small kisses atop your forehead and eventually your lips. “You just tell me what I need to do..this is yours now. I wanna make you feel good..” but it was a given, blatantly obvious even at this point. You needed every last part and inch of him..with your reassurance, he asked once more if it were okay to keep going and you’d grant him permission with a palm of your own to the side of his face..whispering to him to put it inside of you. Cooing with sweet nothings and whiny breaths, (y/n) begged Ony to fulfill your wish and it wasn’t long before your eyes went wide and your face went flush..

“Oh God—“ “Fuck…”

in that moment, the sounds of squelching flesh, along with breathy gasps emitted into the room. The two of you clashed and joined as one, right there on the crisp sheets of that king bed. The first few inches of his cock embedded deep between your warm, massaging walls and it was a sensation that could only be described as euphoric. Your legs instinctively coiled his waist, your hands to the sides of his head and his arms on either side of your body. Lying there, awaiting his next move. But alas, he had to regain his composure. Out of fear of sounding a bit too egregious, he’d keep his thoughts to himself but you were most certainly the best pussy he’d ever felt and he hadn’t even made his first thrust! Even so, Ony released a deep grunt and focused his attention back to your pretty face. “You good, baby?..Can I start moving?” This question required a bit more consideration, as you need time to adjust. That initial feeling brought forth a pleasurable yet slightly painful feeling..you didn’t make it a point to disclose to him that you were technically a ‘virgin’..but seeing as how it wasn’t the very first time you’d felt penetration, you didn’t feel it important. Besides, at that very moment. None of the proverbial details really made a difference. All that mattered was that the two of you were comfortably, willing and all ready to take this next step. And after a moment of quick breaths and whimpers, you’d instruct him to keep moving. In which he’d make one full thrust in and out..

“Agghhh…fuck..there we go, baby. In and out..” eventually, you’d fall into a rhythm of kisses that mimicked his thrusts..each one slower than the last but full nonetheless. This was so you could get acclimated with the shape and size of his member. It was a bit much and by the expression on your face, Ony knew he couldn’t start out drilling your shit!..as badly as he wanted to..

“Yeah..you takin’ my dick so good, baby..you feel so warm..” doting on you whilst your tongues swished around one another’s mouths. Sloppy, wet and steamy; an ideal combination. Coupled with that of the slow, deep thrusts in and out of your tight cunt. One thing that you loved about him was that he wasn’t afraid to be vocal. He didn’t shy from the fact that he was feeling good and wanted everyone to know. “Mmmm…Onyyyy…” “I know, mama. I know..” it went without saying, you were certainly enjoying this and he’d do everything he could to make the situation the best he could. Keeping you reigned in close to his chest, Ony persisted with his thrusts, trying to slowly get you to conform to his shape and so far, it was working.

“There you go, baby. Open that shit up..lemme have it.” Soon, the sounds of thumping and smacking began to fill the atmosphere and you’d feel those strokes become a little faster. It was then that you’d feel the swollen tip of that girthy cock not only stretching you out but precisely hitting your spot as well. Once he knew this was your sought after core, he’d hone in on it and pound away with precise thrusts; even rolling his hips and reaching a hand down to massage your clit. You’d have a moment where you’d falter and that, along with those beautiful eyes rolled back. “Fuck!..f-fuck..yes!” However, he thrived off the satisfaction of seeing your expressions and how they shifted, the deeper he got.

“Unt uh..eyes up here. Lemme see that pretty face while I fuck you..gimme that pussy, baby. Yes..”

You found his commands so sexy and soothing. His voice was soft yet stern and you felt comforted by his tone. It was no wonder that you’d become nearly entranced by him. The smacking sounds only grew louder and that was thanks to the fact that you were a dripping puddle between your thighs. Pearly white secretions leaking everywhere, even coating his shaft entirely and making quite the mess. In one fell swoop, Ony shifted from cradling you to his own body, to pinning your legs to the mattress and spreading you wide open. From this angle, he’d have an ideal view of those voluptuous tits bouncing each time he thrusted. Or just how that plump cunt looked swallowing his cock.

“Oooh..you creaming all over my dick, baby…shit’s so fucking sexy. You like the way this shit feels?” “Y-yes, daddy. Thank you, thank you!—“ declaring so with his thumb pad rolling on your clit and a long trail of saliva coating your lips. He didn’t relent, even when you’d squeeze down on him. It was every bit of eight inches and you’d nearly taken all of it at this point..you couldn’t believe it. “I just knew your shit was good..knew this pussy was the best just by looking at you.”

which made the both of you break into a slight giggle. But you certainly had help getting to this point. This was a newfound sensation and your body was reacting accordingly.

“You bring it out of me..fucking me like this—“ the incoherent babble was followed by something that would only further prove his point. When he’d keep gliding back and forth, speeding up his movements..that’s when it happened…

“Oh shit!—“ “AHH!! FUCK!…” as you’d whimper and cry out, even pawing at his abs as those streams of juices began to spill out and hit not only the linen underneath but his torso as well. Marking his decadent skin with splashes of your liquid. He’d never seen and you’d never experienced anything like it!

“..look at you squirting on that dick, baby...” although you were beginning to feel depleted, your body craved more of him. You wanted to keep going until either of you could move another inch. A wish that would soon come to fruition when you felt Ony’s thrusts become a bit more sporadic and off rhythm. He’d begin to falter, falling prey to your sex. Admittedly, it’d been ages since he’d had sex or a proper orgasm to boot but you were on a whole other playing field! The plush of those thighs, the ripple of that pudgy tummy and big tits, not to mention, the warmth of your wet hole…it was simply too much for him to fathom!

“Onyyyy!..” the louder you cried out, clawing into his skin; albeit his back or his abdomen, the more motivated he became to give you the most pleasure he could possibly help you attain. Even so, he’d make certain of your well-being all throughout. Asking if you were okay to keep moving..not doing so without explicit instructions and checking constantly to see if your expressions matched your sounds. He only wanted tears brought forth from joy and ecstasy, not pain. But the smile plastered on your face was pretty indicative of how good you felt! “Haaa..yeah, baby. I’m right here—tell me what you need…”

clinging to the last semblance of dominance he could muster, Ony slowed his pace down back to the original and held you close once more. He needed it..not just your body, but you in your entirety. He needed to hear you say that he was the one that you desired…that he could officially be your special person and never let you go for as long as he lived. It was all he had wanted, since the day he first cast eyes on you. When he first saw you in those shirts and sweats with his favorite series on it and when he first saw you in those cosplays. It was a moment that he not only wanted to remember but keep reliving. He wanted what the two of you had to last for an eternity…“..I love you....” the words sending your heart fluttering like butterflies in a garden. It was all you had been waiting to hear come from his mouth. Ony thought he’d never truly be able to utter the phrase and it has substantial weight behind it but now, he’d found his one and only who made the words come to life.

“I love you too, Ony…” so with a gentle stroke of your fingers to the side of his face, right there in that hotel room…the two of you consummated what had long since been established. The feelings of adoration for one another that could not be contained. It wasn’t long before either of you would reach your peak and before long, he was heaving and holding onto you with the last remnants of his strength.

“..come. Come for me, Ony…come in me..”

With that, you’d answer his earlier question and he’d have no problem fulfilling your request! He’d spotted you taking your birth control pills once you returned from dinner so any qualms he had dissipated. “I’m coming!…imma nut—“ veins bulge from his forehead and hands as he continues rutting into you. Ony’s fingertips grasped the headboard behind you and would serve as his balance as every ounce of his warm seed began to trickle into your inviting womb..you’d both reach that climatic peak together and following your stream of sexual secretions, was a trail of joyous tears shrouding your faces. Heavy gasps and breathless whimpers escaped your throats before you collapsed into one another’s arms. Once you were both back in the realm of reality, lying underneath him, (y/n) didn’t waste another moment before pulling him into a searing, passionate kiss. One that neither of you wanted to break.

but alas, your gazes would meet and you’d break into a fit of light chuckles.

“How you feel? You good?”

“Oh I’m just fine…are you good?”

poking fun at one another’s reactions in that final moment of ecstasy. But you were both feeling quite well after that. And you wanted nothing more than to keep reveling in it but tomorrow the big day awaited and you both needed rest…

“I’m straight…I mean, shit…you put it on me for real..where you learn to do them lil’ tricks at?” Referring to your earlier display of waterworks but you’d have to tease him once. “A lady never reveals her secrets..” you’d tease back, pursing a finger to his lips before he’d slowly began to pull out, dragging a string of pearlescent cum along with him and splattering a bit on your tummy on the way out. “Besides, I gotta finish your outfit before I fall asleep—“ “Unt uh…you ain’t getting up until you drink sum’ and wipe off. I can get you some snacks from downstairs too.” That’s when he’d roll over and crawl out of the bed, going over to the bathroom to retrieve a warm washcloth and some water from the mini fridge adjacent to the foot of the mattress. He wasn’t going to let you up until he made certain you could handle it. That was Ony’s overprotective nature for you. But it came from nothing but the purest intentions.

“That is not necessary. I’ll be fine.” “Yeah, but you my girl…and imma always take care of you. So hush.” Kissing your forehead ever so gently before sitting at your side and running that rag over your skin. It felt quite nice and you were glad he made you rest for a moment because your body had been through a foreign experience and he made every single second of it magical…you knew that you wanted to create more memories like this with him for as long as possible. Albeit a convention, a date or even kicking it at his place as you watched him play video games. You just wanted to remain in his presence and remain his girl forever.

“Aye, you gone let me sleep in the wet spot?..I wanna stay cool tonight.”

“..Ony, get away from me, please.”

even if he did work the last good nerve you had sometimes!

660 notes · View notes

shadowkoo · 2 months ago

Text

Up In Flames - Part 1

→ Summary: When your sister calls with an emergency, you drop everything to house-sit while she’s out of town. What she forgets to mention is that her fiancé’s friend, a handsome stranger who might have saved your life earlier, is already expecting to stay there too. Awkwardly sharing the space, you manage to get through two weeks with Seungcheol—only to unexpectedly cross paths again when he saves you from another dangerous situation outside your therapist’s office.

Seungcheol, a wildland firefighter, is back in the city taking his leave and debating whether to join Station 17 or return home. While sorting out his own issues, he keeps finding himself in situations where he has to save you—the fiery, stubborn little sister of his best friend’s fiancée who has a terrible habit of calling him the most obnoxious nicknames ever. Despite your resistance to being rescued (and his denial of how much you affect him), the sparks between you two continue to ignite. As you grow closer, it’s only a matter of time before everything goes up in flames.

↠ seungcheol x f.reader | Part 1 = 18.9k (42.7k words total, i’m so sorry but also not really 🗿) | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, action, slow burn, firefighter au, author au, damsel in distress au, ‘let me help you’ wildland firefighter!cheol x ‘i can do it myself’ miss independent yet clumsy!reader

→ Warnings: fire, car accident, extreme burns, graphic & traumatic death of non-significant characters (read at your own risk!), seungcheol suffers from panic attacks and ptsd, solo masturbating (seungcheol gets a lil freaky in the bathroom one morning), grinding in a hot tub, fingering, protected & unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral sex, cheol is a proud muncher, body worship, taking plan b, jealous coups, slight possessive coups, breast play, nipple sucking & biting, dirty talk, soft sex, rough sex, creampie, praise, begging, aftercare, stripping, heavy teasing & banter, tongue fucking, cheol loves to rub himself through your fold, praise kink, semi-public sex (cheol fucks you hard against a firetruck), injury, cuts, smoke inhalation and other dangerous elements (again, please read at your own risk!)

→ Networks: tagged below

@ksmutsociety @k-vanity @lapydiariesnet @keopihausnet

@svthub @thediamondlifenetwork

→ Author Note: thanks to maren @wooahaeproductions and lexi @heechwe for helping me come up with some of these funny nicknames used in here a few months back! and a big thank you to booki @kwanisms for reading this over for me so last minute. this is the first fic of my station 17 collab, check it out here and stay tuned for the next fics from alta @haologram sevń @aaagustd and yannie @wonuwoe!!! dedicated to all my coups girlies, i know you’ll love this <3

⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆

“No, no, no! Oh c’mon! This can’t be happening right now,” you whine, twisting your body so you can see the damage done after hearing the dreadful sound of fabric tearing.

Yep, your pants just ripped. Want to know what’s even worse? Your pink hello kitty underwear is showing right through the large tear on your left butt cheek.

You curse under your breath and pull your shirt down, trying to cover up as much as you can. This would have never happened if you just said no to your best friend and older sister, Kate.

See, Kate is in a very committed, loving relationship, and has been for the past four years. Unlike you, who has been on at least fifty horrible first dates, sometimes even second dates that never seem to go anywhere, in that same time frame.

She set you up with this supposedly amazingly hot, ultra-rich, single and ‘ready to commit’ guy she knew through a friend of a friend, blah blah blah. You should have known then how tonight was going to go. Of all the blind dates you had been on, this one easily became the worst.

It started alright, with a cute Pho restaurant in the middle of downtown being the meeting place. Seojoon waited outside for you with an umbrella since it had started to sprinkle, and even held open the door and helped you in your seat once inside.

But his good manners stopped there. For the rest of the night, he was extremely rude to the wait staff and condescending toward you, making it a miserable experience.

Needless to say, he deserved what you did. After you finally had enough, you not-so-accidentally let a ‘my god, shut the fuck up already’ slip out of your mouth. And yeah, you might have told him he has the emotional intelligence of a toad (and even that was too kind compared to what you really wanted to say).

Quickly after, you excused yourself and were more than ready to leave. But then you saw them. The perfect couple seated in the front half of the restaurant; your ex and the woman he left you for.

Which is why you ended up hiding in the bathroom for fifteen minutes, before deciding that escaping through the small window would be the best option. You used the toilet at leverage to boost yourself up (that was the easy part), gripped onto a nearby tree branch to pull yourself out the window, and then jumped out. It was during the ‘jumping out’ part when your pants got stuck on the branch and proceeded to rip.

The plan wasn’t perfect but it got you out of there, with ripped pants, but what the hell. At least you’re on your way to your car now, rather than being stuck in there with the three most odious people you have ever suffered through knowing.

You make it maybe three blocks before giving up on trying to cover your ass. Whatever, you’re almost back to your car now anyway.

“Oh, what now?” you sigh, digging through your purse for your phone that’s ringing somewhere in there. Your sister’s face lights up the screen; she’s probably calling to see how your date went.

“I hate you,” you grumble while unlocking your car, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“What? Why?” Kate questions, “I was calling for a favor. I didn’t even get to that, so you can’t hate me yet.”

“Tonight was my date with Seojoon and it ended with me climbing out the bathroom window.”

“Oh, Seojoon is so old news. Actually, I should have set you up with–”

“No, I’m stopping you right there,” you say, interrupting her. “I’m not going on any more blind dates with terrible men that you barely know.”

“But–”

“No.”

Kate sighs on the other line, “Okay, fine. I’ll drop it for now. Can we jump to what I was calling about?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Jun’s father had a heart attack and we’re on the way to the airport, can you house-sit for the next two weeks?”

You hesitate to answer and she uses the opportunity to persuade you.

“I know it’s a lot to ask but our food is obviously free game, we have the coziest living room for movies, the hot tub just had its routine maintenance, and I’ll even let you bring Mika. Please, please, please!”

Mika is your sweet but sassy husky, and Kate usually can't stand all that hair. So she must be pretty desperate if she’s letting your energetic furball mess up her peaceful mountain cabin.

“Okay, yeah. I should be able to make that work. Maybe I can finish my next book while I’m up there.”

“Oh thank god!” she celebrates, relieved that you can help out. “You’re the best. I love you so much.”

“You better,” you remark.

“I have to go, so I’ll make it quick. There’s a note on the fridge with some house rules because I know you’d say yes. I’ll text you when we land. Okay, bye! Thank you!” She rushes, quickly hanging up on you before you have the chance to change your mind

It didn’t take very long to grab Mika, some clothes, and the essentials once you had gotten back. In less than half an hour, you had the car packed and ready to go.

You’re now about an hour into the drive up to Kate and Junhui’s mountain home. Your sister’s house-sitting favor couldn’t have come at a better time. You finally feel like you can write again.

A couple of years ago you self-published a fantasy romance book, and out of nowhere, it went viral on BookTok. It’s been nice living off the royalties from its success, but you know your readers want another. The problem is you’ve lacked focus lately; always finding an excuse or something else to do in your free time.

But that’s going to change in the next few days.

"Is that...snow?" you mutter, squinting through the windshield as tiny white flecks swirl down in front of you. It’s basically spring in the city and you haven’t seen snow in weeks, forgetting that the temperature is colder up here. With the high elevation, though, it makes sense.

Mika barks from the passenger seat, her tail thumping excitedly as the flakes fall heavier, dotting the windshield. She presses her nose to the passenger window, eagerly watching the world turn white. Unlike you, she loves the snow and all things cold.

You sigh, imagining yourself on a beach somewhere, basking in the sun, with the hint of frost in nowhere sight. But yet, here you are driving through a surprise snowstorm with a husky who’s living her best life.

You ease up on the gas, knowing that the roads are probably going to get icy soon. Mika’s barks become louder and more frequent.

"No, Mika-Ika-Poo," you say, using one of her many ridiculous nicknames. It's a habit of yours to give everyone, pets and people alike, the most absurd nicknames possible. "You have to be quiet now."

Naturally, your attempt at shushing her only makes things worse. Mika tilts her head, lets out an even louder bark, and then starts whining excitedly as if your words were some sort of encouragement. You can’t help but smile; it’s impossible to keep her quiet, especially when she senses snow.

“You are so sassy today.” You reach an arm over to scratch her neck, she’s just being a dog after all.

Glancing back at the road, you slam on the brakes as you go around the next bend. A truck has crashed into an electricity pole, leaving live power lines strewn across the icy road. But it's too late to stop in time. The road is too slick, and you're already sliding forward.

Your car glides helplessly into the downed lines, tires screeching on the black ice. Before panic can even set in, the front of your vehicle erupts in flames, fire licking up the hood. Smoke quickly surrounds you, blackening the windows until visibility is gone. The stench of burning plastic fills the air, and the heat becomes unbearable. Everything around you vanishes in the thick, choking cloud, leaving you trapped in a suffocating haze.

Shit. Now what?

As Seungcheol drives along the winding road ahead of him, a thin wisp of smoke catches his eye, curling up through the trees ahead. It snakes its way into the sky, growing darker and thicker as he approaches. The distant haze drifts ominously, making his pulse quicken. Something’s definitely wrong up ahead.

He comes to a halt, taking in the scene before him. Twenty-foot flames engulf a car, tangled in the chaos of fragmented power lines, flickering wildly against the night sky. To the left, a pickup truck is smashed against the base of an electric pole, which has split and fallen over.

“Are you good?” he hollers to the truck driver; he’s outside of the vehicle and on the phone with what he assumes is emergency services. The man nods and points back to the car frantically, “Help her! I don’t know how to get her out!”

Seungcheol rushes back to his own vehicle and pulls out a fire extinguisher from his backseat. He chuckles to himself, he knew it would come in handy one day. Call it firefighter’s intuition.

He throws on his spare flame-resistant jacket and heads back towards the fire. If the gas tank leaks, things could go very, very wrong.

He pulls the pin on his fire extinguisher and sprays the car, aiming for the engine which is where he believes the fire began.

“Are you alright in there?” He asks once getting the situation mostly under control.

“No, I am not alright! My car is on fire in case you haven’t noticed?”

“Besides the car, are you hurt?”

“No. I don’t think so? Mika looks okay too.”

“Your baby?” His heart races, stomach bile rising in his throat. Not again.

“My dog.”

Seungcheol calms himself. It’s a dog. It’s just a dog.

“Can I get out? Is my car going to blow up?” the woman asks with a shaky voice.

“Um, that’s a good question. I’m not sure. But I don’t want you to worry. I’m a trained firefighter and we’re going to figure this out, okay?

“What do you mean you aren’t sure? Aren’t you supposed to know what to do in this situation?”

“Not really, I fight fires in the mountains, not usually cars that drive across active lines,” Seungcheol jokes.

“Of course, the universe would send me an incompetent firefighter in this situation.”

Seungcheol huffs, “I’m not incompetent, I was kidding. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, Y/N. I’m Seungcheol. I need a few minutes to think about the safest way to get you out, in the meantime I want you to remain calm.” He hears the faint wail of sirens in the distance. Help is almost here, but he can’t wait. The anxiety is clawing at his neck. He needs to save you. You can’t die too.

The thought of rescuing you from the vehicle feels like a dangerous gamble. One wrong move, and you could step on a live wire and electrocute yourself to death. Seungcheol’s mind races through everything he’s heard about accidents like this: stay in the car, don't touch metal, don’t risk it.

But he also knows that it’s only a matter of minutes until you’re out of safe breathing oxygen in the cabin, and time feels like it’s slipping away. He glances at the ground surrounding your car, finding the safest path for you.

“Okay, I have a plan,” he says, after going over it in his head. “Are you able to crawl to the backseat?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He listens to the sounds of your shuffling, “Okay, I’m in the back with the dog.”

“Good, I’m going to break your driver’s side window. Then I want you to climb back into the front and I’ll help you out.”

“No, I’ll give you my dog first.”

“Alright, the dog goes first. Listen, there’s a chance that when I break the window the airflow and pressure change might cause the fire in your engine to ignite again. I will take care of it, I don’t want you to worry.”

With a surge of adrenaline, he smashes the car window with the end of the fire extinguisher. Shards of glass scatter onto the seat, and the dog whines from the sudden noise.

He leans down and peeks his head inside, his eyes immediately locking with yours. You're huddled in the backseat, arms tightly wrapped around your large dog, seeking comfort. Your light brown hair is tousled, strands falling across your face, but it’s your vibrant green eyes that stand out, even in the dim light. There's a mixture of exhaustion and relief in them.

He gently takes the leashed dog from your arms. "I’ll be right back for you," he promises, stepping cautiously away from the car, avoiding wet spots, and keeping a wary eye on the live wires.

The police are the first to arrive. “Pop your backseat open, I’ll put the dog in there,” he says, and the officer quickly obliges, opening the door for him.

As he turns to head back for you, the fire and rescue team pulls up, jumping into action. He heads toward the firefighters who are assessing the power line situation.

“Look who it is,” a familiar face grins, walking up to hug his old friend.

“Mingyu, it’s good to see you.” Seungcheol hugs him back.

”I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. Always in the middle of the action. I gotta ask, are you interested in a job? We’ve got an opening if you’re sick of roughing it in the wilderness.”

“You know me well,” he smiles. “I’m on leave right now. Gotta work through some things. You know how it is.”

“Unfortunately, I do,” Mingyu agrees, knowing all too well and definitely knowing better than to ask. “Let’s grab a drink one of these nights while you’re still around.”

“Sure thing, have fun dealing with, well, all of this,” Seungcheol chuckles, motioning at the mess surrounding them.

By the time he heads back toward you, you're already out of the charred vehicle, the rescue team guiding you into the backseat of the cop car.

He watches from a distance, realizing that once again, he didn’t get the chance to keep his promise.

The rescue team moves swiftly, pulling you from the wreckage and checking you over to make sure you aren’t hurt, even though you insist you aren’t.

“Ma’am, I know you say you’re fine, but it’s my job to check.”

“Sorry,” you grumble, “I’ve just had a shit day and I’m worried that Mika is scared.”

“Your dog? Don’t worry, we can head over there right now.” They gather your belongings from the trunk of your sizzling car before guiding you to the safety of the squad car where your dog is already waiting, tail wagging despite the chaos.

Now that you're out of danger, you finally take in the scene around you. It's far worse than anything you could have imagined. The devastation is overwhelming, and the air is still heavy with smoke.

A wave of gratitude washes over you for the stranger who helped calm your nerves when everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. Without his reassurance, you’re not sure how you would’ve kept it together.

You spot him; he’s standing among the firemen, deep in conversation. His tall frame towers over most of them, and the broad set of his shoulders makes his jacket seem almost too small. The sparking power lines cast flickering shadows across his face.

Unlike the others, his jacket has a different department name stitched across his back, making him stand out from the crowd even more. There's something about the way he carries himself all calm and controlled, like he's seen this kind of devastation too many times before, that piques your interest.

Like he senses you looking him over, he glances over toward the patrol car as it pulls away from the accident.

You sink into the seat next to Mika, feeling the warmth of her fur against your side, grateful she’s okay. You’re relieved but still shaken, and with the smell of smoke still clinging to your clothes, are desperate for a nice hot shower to wash off this horrible day.

The officer pulls up to your sister’s house and helps carry your bags to the door. Before leaving, he hands you a copy of the accident report and the business card for the tow company that hauled off your car.

"Take care now," the older man says with a nod, waving from the driver’s seat as he reverses down the driveway.

“Thanks!” you return, Mika also joining in with a quick yap.

Using the spare key your sister gave you years ago, you unlock the door and step inside. Mika bolts down the hallway, likely heading for the living room to claim her favorite nap spot on the couch.

Kate’s house rules will have to wait. Right now, all you care about is scrubbing off the sticky residue of smoke that clings to your skin. Mika, meanwhile, seems unbothered. Her rolling in the snow earlier did wonders for cleaning up her fur. She’s back to her usual gray-and-white self, but you’ll still have to wrangle her into a bath at some point. You don’t have the energy for that battle tonight.

Dragging your bags toward the bedrooms, you drop them on the floor inside the master. You rummage through the top duffel, fishing out an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of pajama pants for after your shower. Clothes in hand, you head for the attached bathroom.

Peeling off your smoky clothes, you turn on the shower and wait for the water to heat up. Steam begins to fill the small space as you step beneath the heavy spray, the warm water washing away the grime and some of the day’s tension.

The face of the stranger from earlier flashes in your mind as you shampoo your long locks. Maybe you should have waited to say goodbye to him, and say thank you, before leaving the scene. You were in too much of a panic state to think about the proper way to handle anything. Hopefully, he understood that.

You’re just about done with rinsing off the remaining bubbles of the divine body wash your sister has in the shower when Mika runs into the bathroom and starts whining.

“I’m almost done, Mika Mouse” you comfort her through the glass wall, thinking her nerves are probably just acting up after today.

She whines again, slinking behind the bathroom door with her tail tucked low.

‘That’s odd’, you think, turning off the water and stepping out. ‘Maybe she doesn’t feel well?’

You wrap yourself in a thick towel, still worried about her behavior when a dull thud echoes from the far end of the house.

Mika peers up at you with wide, nervous eyes, the look clearly saying, ‘Don’t even think about asking me to check that out.’

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “Of course not. So much for being a big, tough dog, huh?”

You tip-toe carefully toward the noise, the cool air against your damp skin making you shiver. The sound is coming from the kitchen, and Mika creeps along behind you, practically glued to your leg.

“You’re no help, you know that?” you whisper, glancing down at her. “What if I need backup?”

Mika simply stares at you, her blue eyes wide and unblinking, as if to say, ‘You’re on your own, Mom.’

Another louder crash stops you in your tracks. Your pulse quickens as you peek around the corner. There, in front of the open refrigerator, stands a stranger.

Adrenaline floods your body as you grab the nearest weapon (a spatula from the island counter), you let out a war cry and charge.

“Hey! What the—OW! Stop hitting me!” the intruder yells, raising his hands to shield himself.

“Who the hell are you?” you demand, swinging the spatula one last time for good measure.

“Wait! I—Ouch! What is wrong with you?” He twists around, finally revealing his face. And recognition slams into you like a brick wall, it’s the hot firefighter from earlier.

“You!” you hiss, lowering the spatula but not your guard. “Why are you here? Did you follow me here?”

“What? No! I’m staying here!” he snaps, rubbing his arm where you hit him.

“Uh, no you’re not. This is my sister’s house,” you say, crossing your arms. The movement makes you suddenly, painfully aware of how little you’re wearing.

He blinks at you, then gestures vaguely between you and the kitchen. “You’re Kate’s sister?”

“How do you know Kate?” you demand. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Seungcheol. I’m one of Jun’s friends,” he explains, looking somewhat flustered. “He told me I could crash here for a few days. Kate agreed and said it was fine.”

You frown, your brain scrambling to make sense of this. “Well, nobody told me.”

“I thought they were here. I figured... maybe they were in the shower,” he says, his eyes flicking to your dripping hair. “But I guess that was you. Where are they?”

“They’re out of town,” you mutter, pulling the towel tighter around yourself. “And clearly, no one thought to clue me in on their little hospitality arrangements.”

“I just spoke with Jun yesterday. He didn’t say anything about being out of town,” Seungcheol says, his brows furrowed.

“Well...it was sort of last minute,” you reply, hesitating. You’re unsure how much you should share, but curiosity about his reaction nudges you to continue. “His dad had a heart attack. They asked me to house-sit while they went to be with him.”

Seungcheol’s face shifts from confusion to alarm, genuine concern washing over his features. “Oh my god, Mr. Wen had a heart attack? Is he okay?” His eyes search yours, desperate for answers.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I haven’t heard any updates yet. I was hoping Kate would call once they got there.”

He nods slowly, processing the news, then looks back at you.

“So...how do you know Junhui?” You cross your arms, still skeptical.

“We grew up together and are still good friends,” he says simply, holding your gaze.

You narrow your eyes, trying to read him. He seems genuine, but the whole situation still feels a little too coincidental.

“Look,” he says, sensing your doubt, “I can prove it. I’ve got old photos of us on my phone. Or, better yet, check the living room. I’m pretty sure there’s a framed photo of us from a beach trip we took a few years ago. It was on the mantle the last time I visited.”

You pause, weighing his words. There’s something about his tone that makes you think he might actually be telling the truth. Still, you’re not ready to let your guard down just yet.

“Fine,” you say. “But if I find out you’re lying, I’m coming back with something worse than a spatula.”

“If you’re anything like Kate, I wouldn’t doubt it,” Seungcheol says with a chuckle, now leaning up against the kitchen island.

You shoot him a look before walking over to the fireplace, where Kate displays all her smaller framed photos. It doesn’t take long to spot the beach photo he mentioned, and sure enough, a younger Seungcheol is standing next to Jun, both grinning under the sun. He looks leaner in the picture, less muscular than the version currently smirking from the kitchen.

“Well?” he calls from the island, his tone teasing. “Did I pass the test?”

You place the photo back on the mantel and turn to face his direction. “Don’t move. I need to get dressed and call Kate.”

“Not going anywhere,” he replies with a shrug, clearly amused by the whole ordeal.

You hurry back to the bedroom, finding Mika burrowed under the covers on the bed, probably retreating there after your spatula ambush.

“Coward,” you huff, stepping over your bags. Reaching the clothes you set out earlier, you quickly throw them on, silently cursing yourself for choosing the frumpiest option. But how would you have known you’d need to look cute and presentable for... company? Comfort had been the only thing on your mind.

Grabbing the towel draped over the vanity, you cover the base of your skull and twist your damp hair into a quick headwrap. Fixing your hair can wait, sorting out this unexpected houseguest with Kate takes priority.

Muttering a string of curses under your breath, you march over to your bags and rummage through them until you find your purse. Digging inside, you finally fish out your phone, silently pleading with the universe that your sister will pick up.

This was the last situation Seungcheol had expected to find himself in tonight. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, staying rooted to the spot as promised. It’s not hard to keep his word, he figures moving any closer might make things worse.

He gets why you’re being cautious. Honestly, he’s glad you are. Still, it bothers him a little that you don’t feel entirely safe around him. He’d even stepped away from the fridge, putting himself by the island within your line of sight, hoping it might ease your discomfort. Given the circumstances, though, your reaction is understandable.

The sound of soft footsteps echoes down the hallway, announcing your return before he even sees you. When you step into view, his breath catches. You look ridiculously cute with your hair twisted up in that towel, even if you’re frowning. Not that he’d admit it, but he preferred the towel’s previous location—wrapped around your damp, glistening body.

Damn it, ‘Cheol. Not the time.

“I can’t get ahold of Kate or Jun,” you say with a frustrated sigh. “They must still be on their flight.”

Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate to slip into problem-solving mode like it’s second nature. Anything to erase that frown from your face. “If it helps, I’ll sleep on the couch tonight. It’s far from the bedrooms, and you can barricade your door if that makes you feel better. I swear, I’m not a threat.”

“How do I know that I can trust you?” you ask, your voice laced with doubt.

Without missing a beat, he responds, “Would you like to talk to my mom?”

“What?” you blink, your expression equal parts skeptical and confused.

“I’ll call my mom,” he says, already pulling his phone from his pocket. “She can vouch for me. Would that make you feel better?”

You tilt your head, clearly debating it. Before you can respond, he’s already tapping the screen a couple of times before holding the phone out to you.

“It’s ringing.”

“Hello? Cheolie, dear?” a warm, motherly voice answers.

“Um, hi,” you say awkwardly, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Oh, hello! Is my son there?”

“I’m here, Mom,” Seungcheol calls out, loud enough for her to hear. “Y/N has a question for you.”

“Alright, dear,” she replies, her tone curious. “What’s the question?”

You glance at him, then back to the phone. “I’d like to know if Seungcheol is...honest and trustworthy,” you say, your eyes narrowing slightly as you study his face.

“Oh, well, that’s an easy one!” his mom chirps. “My Cheolie is a sweetheart! Did you know he’s a firefighter? Some might even call him a hero. He’s one of the most honest and trustworthy people you’ll ever meet.”

“Right,” you murmur, trying not to smile. “So, you’d say it’s safe to sleep under the same roof with him?”

“Well,” she chuckles softly, “that depends on whether he remembers his manners. But I’d bet good money my son has plenty of self-restraint—”

“Okay, Mom, that’s enough. Thanks!” Seungcheol interjects quickly, his ears burning. “I’ll call you later. Love you, bye!” Ending the call, he looks up to find you grinning.

“Cheolie?” you tease, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

“Don’t call me that. Ever,” he warns, though the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. “So... what’s the verdict?”

You give him another once-over, still weighing your options. “You can sleep in the guest bedroom. I’ll take the primary. Most of my stuff is already in there anyway.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind the couch,” he offers sincerely.

“It’s fine,” you reply with a wave of your hand. “You did save me earlier, after all. I’m not going to kick you out in the middle of the night when it’s storming. We’ll sort everything out tomorrow when it’s not so late.”

“Thanks,” he says, relief evident in his voice. “I’m glad you’re okay, by the way. Did the rescue team check your throat for smoke inhalation? And what about your dog? Wait—where is your dog?” His head swivels as he realizes he hasn’t seen Mika.

“She’s hiding in the bedroom, like the coward she is,” you say with a huff. “And yeah, we both got checked out. The worst of it was my car... and my clothes.” You glance at the clock on the wall. “Anyway, I’m heading to bed. Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m good. I know my way around. I’ll grab some water and call it a night too.”

“Alright. Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You disappear down the hall, leaving him standing in the kitchen, feeling oddly better than he had all day.

Seungcheol’s hand trails across your jaw, his tough is light yet as his eyes sear into yours. His fingers trace the delicate curve of your face before slipping into the hair behind your ear, his grip gentle but possessive as he leans in.

His lips brush against yours, warm and inviting, sending a shiver down your spine. The kiss is tantalizing and slow, yet perfectly in sync, drawing a soft sigh from your lips as you melt into him.

And then—buzz.

Wait. Are his lips...vibrating?

A second buzz jolts you further from the haze of your dream, and before you can process it, another vibration tickles your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, reality crashing in as you realize your phone is pressed between your face and the pillow. You must have dozed off without setting it on the nightstand.

Blinking heavily, you grab the device, squinting at the screen. It’s your sister.

You swipe to answer, your voice thick with sleep. “Hello?”

“Shoot, were you sleeping? I’m sorry,” Kate says, already sounding guilty.

“For waking me up or for forgetting to mention the house guest you invited to stay here?”

“Oh my god.” A beat of silence, and then she groans. “Y/N, I am so sorry. Everything happened so fast with Jun’s dad, and it completely slipped my mind that Seungcheol was coming to visit. Is he there now?”

“Yeah. And I might have whacked him a few times thinking he was breaking into the house.”

Your sister snickers on the other end, clearly picturing it. “You attacked him?”

“We’ve resolved it. Mostly.”

Kate bursts into laughter, and you roll your eyes, already regretting telling her.

"I bet he loved that," Kate snickers. "Seriously, though, I just wanted to call with an update, except there isn’t much of one. The doctors are running every test they can to figure out why he had a heart attack in the first place. Basically, we’re stuck in a waiting game for now.”

Your stomach twists. “How’s Jun handling it?”

She lowers her voice, the weight of concern evident. “I think he’s scared. But he’s putting on a brave front for his mom. She’s beside herself right now.” A pause. “Actually, the doctor is coming now. I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Give Jun a big hug for me. Keep me updated. Love you.”

“Love you too, sis. Bye.”

The line goes dead and you glance at the time, it’s just past 8 a.m. Mika stretches beside you, yawning dramatically before perking up, her bright blue eyes locked onto you. Now that she knows you’re awake, there’s no stopping her. She’s practically quivering with morning energy, and it won’t be long before she starts pawing at the door, demanding her outdoor time.

You sigh, already mourning your sweet slumber and the very interesting dream that had been so rudely interrupted.

Mika whines before hopping off the bed and trotting to the door, tail wagging expectantly.

Cracking it open, you peek into the hallway. Seungcheol’s door is still closed. Good, at least one of you gets to sleep in.

Tip-toeing toward the entryway, you slip into your winter gear before heading toward the back deck. The crisp morning air nips at your face as you slide the glass door open and Mika dashes past you in a blur of fur, instantly prancing through the fresh snow.

She lives for the cold, yet somehow refuses to do her business unless she has a bare patch of ground. An interesting quirk of hers. With a resigned sigh, you find a shovel nearby and clear a small area for her.

While she tunnels through the snow, occasionally popping her head up like a mischievous little arctic fox, you shove your gloved hands into your pockets, bouncing on your heels to stay warm.

Once she’s finally done playing and has taken care of business, you barely have to say the magic word, breakfast, before she’s bounding back inside, tail wagging like she just won the lottery.

She sits patiently, her tail sweeping across the floor as you prepare her usual breakfast, dry kibble topped with blueberries and salmon. The combination makes your nose wrinkle, but to her, it’s a five-star meal. She lets out a soft huff, urging you to hurry up, and the second you place the bowl down, she dives in enthusiastically.

As you watch her eat, the weight of yesterday’s events settles over you. The bad date, the phone call, the fire, and the unexpected houseguest. Despite all the chaos, there’s a lingering sense of gratitude warming your chest. Things could have been so much worse.

Deciding you want to thank Seungcheol, you rummage through the pantry and fridge, gathering everything you need to whip up a nice breakfast for yourselves. It’s the least you can do for him.

With your favorite indie playlist humming through the speakers, you settle into the rhythm of cooking. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla fills the air as the french toast sizzles on the stove. Lost in the process, you sway a little to the music, waiting for the perfect moment to flip the slices.

Until something in your peripheral catches your attention, and when you glance up, your breath hitches.

Seungcheol steps out of the guest room, still half-asleep, his dark hair tousled in an unfairly attractive way. But that’s not what has you flushing, it’s the fact that he’s shirtless, with his toned chest and defined abs on full display. The gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips aren’t helping your already scattered thoughts.

Your gaze lingers a second too long. Maybe three. Or five…

By the time you snap out of it, his smirk is already forming. Oh, he definitely caught you looking. The heat creeping up your neck betrays you, and his smirk deepens.

“Morning,” he says, voice still rough with sleep.

You clear your throat, quickly turning back to the stove. “Morning. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

“Smells good,” he muses, stepping closer. “Need any help?”

You swallow hard, focusing on flipping the french toast before it burns. “You know what would be helpful?” you ask, keeping your eyes on the pan, not on him.

“What’s that?” he replies, stretching his arms above his head.

You steal one last glance, just a quick one, watching the way his muscles ripple with the movement. Damn it. Get a grip.

“If you’d go throw on a shirt, Rolie Polie Cheolie.”

His laughter is instant, loud and unapologetic. “Wow. That nickname is uncalled for.” He runs a slow hand down his chest, smiling smugly. “Is this too much for you? I totally understand why.”

Your grip tightens around the spatula as you flash him a sickly sweet smile, waving it in your hand as a reminder. “Should we revisit last night?”

His smile falters, eyes darting to the spatula like he’s considering his odds. “Damn, woman. Okay.” Still chuckling, he lifts his hands in surrender and backs away. “I’ll go find a shirt. But for the record…” he pauses in the doorway, glancing back at you with a knowing grin. “You didn’t have to stare.”

Your cheeks burn as you turn back to the stove. This man is going to be the death of you.

It’s day three of surviving Seungcheol.

You don’t know when you started keeping track, but at this point, it feels necessary. Every glance, every smirk, every damn stretch of his ridiculously sculpted arms even when he’s innocently putting away the washed dishes after a meal, chips away at your resolve.

Kate hadn’t helped. Last night, after calling with an update, she’d gone there*.*

“If you’re looking for some fun*,* Seungcheol is definitely the way to go,” she’d said, voice full of mischief.

You’d nearly choked on your water. “Excuse me?”

“He’s so fine. Not as fine as Jun, of course, but Seungcheol is a man if you know what I mean.”

Your gaze had drifted traitorously toward him. He’s comfortably sprawled in the corner chair, book in hand, looking every bit like a romance novel cover come to life.

You’d hissed into the phone, “Shut up,” even though he’d need superhuman hearing to catch onto what she was saying.

“All I’m saying is, you never know what might happen over the next few days. Have some fun.”

Heat crawls up your neck as you rise to grab a drink from the kitchen. Why is it suddenly so warm in here?

“Nothing is going to happen,” you’d whispered back, firmly.

“Boo. You’re no fun.” She’d let it go after that, moving on to say they’d likely be home by next Wednesday. Nine more days. That’s all you have to survive.

Nine days without making a fool of yourself.

Nine days without giving in to the way he makes your pulse stutter.

Three down and nine to go. Twelve total…You can do it. Right? You just need to focus. Like on your book.

Yes. Writing. That’ll keep your thoughts free of Seungcheol.

After your usual morning routine of walking Mika, enjoying breakfast, and tidying up, Seungcheol casually mentions that he’s heading out for a run.

Jogging in the cold sounds like actual torture to you, but you still offer him a small smile. “Have a good run!”

“Thanks,” he says, rolling out his shoulders as he stretches. His muscles flex with the movement underneath his tight zip-up, and you have to remind yourself not to stare. “When I get back, I’ll cook us dinner.”

That certainly piques your interest. “Oh? Do you cook often?”

“You could say that. Plus, I wouldn’t want you starving under my watch,” he teases with a wink before heading out the door.

You narrow your eyes at the space he just vacated. Has he figured out that your culinary skills barely extend beyond breakfast foods? Maybe the fact that you reheated frozen leftovers twice yesterday tipped him off.

Once he’s gone, you settle into your writing space with a hot tea nearby and your laptop open, fingers poised over the keyboard. The hardest part is always getting started, but once you do, the words tend to flow. Today, they’re flowing especially well.

You’re making great progress on the prologue, recapping the last book’s events and weaving in the setup for the new characters. But as you flesh out the love interest, describing his dark, chocolatey hair and toned physique, a realization hits you.

You’re using a certain someone as inspiration.

The realization makes your fingers hesitate over the keyboard. Seriously? You shake your head, trying to brush off the thought, but it lingers, settling into the back of your mind like an itch you can’t quite scratch.

Your main character’s love interest is supposed to be effortlessly charismatic, strong, and just the right amount of a cocky attitude. Traits that, annoyingly, align all too well with the man currently out on his run. The way he smirks when he catches you looking, the deep timbre of his voice, the way he makes your heart race anytime he’s within touching distance.

You groan and drop your head onto the table. This is ridiculous.

Maybe Kate was right. Maybe your subconscious is betraying you, channeling all that pent-up energy into your writing instead of…well, other things.

Before you can spiral further, you take a deep breath and push those distracting thoughts out of your mind. Focus. You force your attention back to your screen, determined to channel this energy into something productive.

You finish fleshing out the details of your character, the way his eyes darken when he’s deep in thought, the way his presence commands a room without effort. You tweak a few lines, refining his dialogue until it feels just right.

Satisfied, you move on, letting the story take shape one sentence at a time. The tension between your characters simmers, the chemistry practically leaping off the page. It’s electric, intense…and maybe, just maybe, a little too familiar.

You shake off the thought and keep writing, ignoring the way your mind keeps circling back to a certain firefighter with a teasing smirk and frustratingly perfect timing.

“Whatcha working on?”

You nearly jump out of your seat. A damp towel hangs around Seungcheol’s shoulders, his hair still wet from a shower. He’s also wearing different clothes than earlier, a fresh pair of lounge pants and a fitted black tee that does nothing to hide the way his broad shoulders and toned arms fill it out.

When did he even get back? You didn’t hear him come in, let alone get undressed and shower.

“You were so engrossed in whatever this is,” he motions to your laptop screen, “that you didn’t even hear me say I was hopping in the shower.”

Your heart is still trying to recover from the surprise, and maybe from the sight of him standing so casually in front of you, all post-workout and freshly showered.

“W-what?” you stammer, snapping your laptop shut on instinct. “I was…just writing.”

His lips curl into a slow, knowing smirk. “About what?”

Absolutely not. There is no way in hell you’re telling him the truth.

“Um, I’m an author. I have a book due soon as part of my contract.”

Seungcheol nods, clearly waiting for you to elaborate. His gaze makes you hesitate, do you dive into the full truth about writing romantasy smut or keep things vague? A simple character plotting excuse could work, but something about the way he’s watching you makes you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“It’s, um, about a warrior heiress whose assigned protector is a human hybrid. He can morph into a giant guardian dog at will. And, well…she kind of falls for him.” You pause, watching his reaction, then, without thinking, add, “Do you know what knotting means?”

The second the words leave your mouth, you want to crawl under the table.

Seungcheol’s eyebrows shoot up, a smirk playing on his lips. “Do I want to know?”

Your face is on fire. Abort. Abort. You shake your head rapidly. “No, probably not.”

He chuckles, clearly amused by your panic but merciful enough to let it slide. “Alright then,” he says, using the towel to dry off his hair some more. It’s enough to distract you.

Little do you know, he’s definitely planning on looking it up later.

“How was your run? And shower?” you babble, desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Both were good,” he replies smoothly, eyes still holding a trace of interest in the previous topic of conversation. “But I’m starving now. How about you?”

You swallow, forcing yourself to focus. “Well, I won’t say no to food,” you say, standing up and stretching, trying to act casual.

Seungcheol smirks like he knows exactly where your mind wanders. “Good. Because I plan on impressing you.”

“Oh? Bold of you to assume I’m easily impressed.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m not up for the challenge,” he says, his voice dripping with confidence. “You want to help, or are you still lost in your little fantasy world?”

The teasing in his voice makes your eyes narrow. Without hesitation, you snap your laptop shut before he can read another word. “I’ve hit my goal for the day. Put me to work, chef.”

He laughs, “Wow, such enthusiasm. Almost convincing.” He slings the damp towel over his shoulder. “Let me toss this in the laundry hamper, and then we’ll get started.”

As he disappears down the hall, you exhale, pressing your palms against the cool surface of the table. Seungcheol has no idea what you were writing, but the thought of him finding out makes your stomach twist. And not necessarily in a bad way.

By the time he returns, you’ve found an apron and slipped it on, attempting to tie the strings behind you. He stops mid-step, taking in the sight of you. His grin is slow and approving. “Look at you, all dressed for the part.”

You place your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously. Now, Super Couper, what’s on the menu?”

He groans, dragging a hand through his hair before shooting you a playful glare. “How many more ridiculous nicknames do you have up your sleeve?”

You tilt your head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “An endless amount.” Your smile is far too triumphant. “It’s a habit of mine. And lucky you, you get to be the exclusive recipient for the next several days.”

He shakes his head at the new ridiculous nickname, but the grin on his face gives him away. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Immensely,” you tease, adjusting the apron strings behind your back. “Now, tell me what I’m chopping, stirring, or burning.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. His hands brush over yours as he takes over and ties the apron for you, pulling the strings snug. The warmth of his fingers lingers even after he steps back. “We’re making spicy kimchi fried rice with seared steak.”

Your stomach growls in approval, and he smiles. “I’ll handle the steak since I don’t want you to accidentally ruin it,” he teases. “You’re on chopping duty. Can I trust you with a knife?”

You scoff, grabbing a knife. “Duh.”

He leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching you with amused eyes. “We’ll see.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the way your pulse skips as you start slicing. This is fine. Totally normal. Just two adults cooking together. It’s definitely not a big deal that you can feel his body heat every time he moves past you, or that his deep, husky chuckle makes your stomach flutter.

You won’t admit it, but you’re totally impressed by the way Seungcheol moves around the kitchen with ease, like he was born to do this. He’s completely in his element. You find yourself wondering why he became a firefighter instead of a chef at some high-end restaurant.

Seungcheol watches as you slice into an onion, “Here, let me show you how to hold it properly—”

“I know how to do it,” you huff, gripping the handle tighter. “I’m capable of chopping vegetables, Seungcheol.”

He raises a brow at your defensive tone, then softens. “Of course you are,” he says gently. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Something about his concern makes your stomach twist. Maybe it’s the way he automatically took over, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s right, but either way, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth. He seems to realize it too because he steps back, letting you finish on your own without another word.

The tension lingers as he takes the chopped veggies and tosses them into the pan, sautéing them before mixing them with the rice. You know it’s ridiculous to hold a grudge over something as small as knife skills, but the silence stretches between you as you both eat, neither wanting to be the first to break it.

Even Mika, who’s happily munching away at her dinner, doesn’t offer a distraction from the lingering silence.

Seungcheol wouldn’t know this, but people have been stepping in to ‘help’ you your whole life, whether you wanted them to or not. Being a little clumsy means that, more often than not, others take over, deciding you’re too slow, too messy, or just better off watching.

You’ve fought to prove yourself capable in small ways, learning things at your own pace, and taking pride in figuring them out on your own. You know Seungcheol didn’t mean it that way. His help wasn’t condescending, it wasn't just let me do it move like you’ve experienced before.

Finally, you exhale, deciding to move past it. No point in sulking over it.

“So,” you say after taking a drink of your water, “Can I ask you something?”

Seungcheol glances up, mid-bite, eyebrows raising slightly. “Of course.”

“You seem really comfortable in the kitchen,” you pause, watching the way his shoulders stiffen. “Why firefighting? Why not something food-related?”

“I spent some time in culinary school, but I like doing things my own way. It wasn’t for me.” He leans back slightly, twirling his fork between his fingers. “Firefighting is…different. It’s this rush of energy that takes over your body. You assess the situation, cut the wildfire off from its resources, do everything in your power to stop it from growing. It’s intense, but it’s rewarding.” He exhales, his gaze momentarily distant. “But I’m not sure it’s exactly for me anymore either.”

“Oh? Really? Why’s that?”

He hesitates for a beat, then shrugs. “I have a few things to figure out, some important decisions to make. That sort of thing.” His tone makes it clear he’s not ready to elaborate, so he shifts the conversation instead. “What about you? Have you always liked writing?”

“God, no,” you say with a short laugh. “I’ve always been an avid reader, but I kept looking for a specific type of book that either wasn’t well written or didn’t exist. Eventually, I just decided to write it myself.” You glance at your mostly empty plate. “I’m still new to it all, this is only my second book, but I like it.”

Seungcheol nods, offering a small smile. “That’s good.”

You let the comfortable quiet settle between you as you both take the last few bites of dinner.

“Thanks for dinner, by the way,” you say, getting up to take your dishes to the sink.

“Thanks for helping.”

Day Five of Surviving Seungcheol

Yesterday wasn’t particularly eventful, just another day of coexisting with the infuriatingly perceptive man currently occupying your space. The most eventful thing that happened was Seungcheol shoveling the driveway and front steps after the snowfall, which, for Mika, was basically an invitation to turn the entire ordeal into a game. She chased after flying clumps of snow, leaping at them mid-air like an overexcited puppy, completely unbothered by the cold.

Unlike you.

Even though the sun shined for most of the day, the mountain air bites sharper than usual, cutting through every layer you’ve thrown on. No matter how many sweaters or blankets you bundle yourself in, warmth remains elusive. And now that the sun has gone down, the temperature seems to have dropped again.

“God, I miss the warm weather,” you mutter, pushing off the couch in search of yet another blanket.

Seungcheol frowns, his eyes tracking you as you disappear down the hall. He already turned up the thermostat earlier when he noticed goosebumps on your arms, and you’ve thrown on a sweater since then. He sets his nearly finished book down, rolling his shoulders as he stands.

By the time you return, arms wrapped around the thickest blanket you could find, the unmistakable crackle of fire fills the living room.

You stop in your tracks, eyes flicking to Seungcheol, who’s crouched near the fireplace, adjusting the logs. The warm glow of the flames casts flickering shadows across his face, highlighting the quiet concentration in his features.

Somehow, he always catches onto things and does them before you even think to ask.

“It should warm up in here pretty fast now,” he says, meeting your eyes.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Do you, uh…want to watch something while you write, or would that be distracting?” he asks, unsure.

“I could use some background noise. Put on whatever you want.”

Seungcheol grabs the remote and flips through the options before settling on the latest action movie. It’s loud, fast-paced, and (at least in theory) should hold his attention.

Except it doesn’t.

He’ll admit, he hasn’t got a single clue what’s happening on the screen. Explosions, car chases, intense fight scenes; they all blur together as his focus repeatedly drifts to your laptop.

It’s not his fault. Really.

He had every intention of watching the movie. Based on the description, it seemed like something he’d enjoy. But the moment his gaze flickered toward your screen, all thoughts of entertainment evaporated. His curiosity got the best of him, and now he’s stealing glances, completely distracted by the way your fingers move over the keys with effortless ease.

And after reading a line, all rational thought leaves his head.

Dash looks up at me with fire in his eyes. “You’re mine. Your heart, your mouth, your sweet cunt—it’s all mine.” A deep growl vibrates from his chest as he pulls me onto his lap, his hardening length pressing against me through his pants.

Seungcheol swallows hard, eyes darting between the flashing scenes on the TV and the words on your laptop. Jesus Christ. He stiffens, willing his expression to remain neutral. But it’s impossible to unsee the words, impossible to ignore the way his brain short-circuits at the imagery.

Dash shreds my corset with his claws, discarding the tattered fabric like it’s nothing. His mouth latches onto my nipple, his hand cupping the other, his touch rough yet reverent. I whimper as he spreads my thighs, lifting my skirt to reveal—

He sucks in a sharp breath, snapping his head back toward the TV. Nope. Nope. Nope.

But now he’s hyper-aware of you sitting beside him, completely unbothered as your fingers move effortlessly over the keys. You’re so focused, so immersed in crafting this sinful scene like it’s just another day at work.

He wants to laugh. He wants to tease. He wants to ask you what the hell kind of research you’ve been doing for this book, but more than anything, he kinda wants to know what happens next.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type to enjoy a smutty book,” you muse, lips curling into a knowing smirk. You should probably be embarrassed that he’s been sneakily reading, but watching the initial shock on his face shift into reluctant curiosity is far too entertaining.

Seungcheol’s head snaps toward you so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. Shit. I’ve been caught.

You laugh, the sound bubbling out before you can stop it. Eventually, Seungcheol joins in, shaking his head in amusement. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but that certainly wasn’t it. You’re good, though. I can see why your last book sold so many copies.”

Your brows lift in mock surprise. “Ah, have you been doing a little research on me?”

He smirks, completely unapologetic. “Maybe just a little. I didn’t realize I was sharing a house with the beloved BookTok queen.”

That makes you laugh even harder, the sound ringing through the room. Seungcheol watches you, taking in the way your eyes squint when you laugh, how your whole face lights up. Damn, he thinks, you’re gorgeous.

Seungcheol pushes himself up from the couch, partially to hide his growing hard-on and partially to grab a snack. He’s so attracted to you, more than he ever expected to be. “Feel like popcorn?”

“Yum, yes! That sounds fab,” you say, already diving back into your smut scene.

A few minutes later, he returns with a freshly popped bowl of popcorn and two cold beers. “Wasn’t sure if you drink, but I can grab you some water instead if you prefer.”

You smile at his thoughtfulness. “Nah, beer is great. Thanks.”

The two of you settle in, watching the last half of the movie together. Not that you’re paying much attention, you’re pretty sure Seungcheol isn’t either, as you keep stealing glances at each other. Plus, the plot is all over the place, and you both seem equally lost.

Then, just as things finally seem to be wrapping up, one of the love interests dies. And just like that, you’re completely checked out. If there’s one thing you cannot stand, it’s an unhappy ending. You’re a die-hard Happy Ever After lover. What was the point of all that buildup if they were just going to rip it away?

Seungcheol stretches, letting out a deep yawn as the credits begin to roll. “That felt longer than I thought it would.”

“Sleepy?” you ask, hoping maybe he’ll say no and you can keep hanging out a little longer.

But he yawns again, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, surprisingly, I am. I better head to bed.” He shoots you a tired smile. “Sweet dreams.”

…

Seungcheol hesitates for half a second before nodding and retreating to his room. As he shuts the door behind him, your expression lingers in his mind. There was something there, just for a moment. Maybe he imagined it.

He shakes his head. Don’t be stupid. He won’t get his hopes up about you having any sort of feeling for him. And he refuses to put you in that position.

Exhaling deeply, he climbs into bed, exhaustion weighing on him. Sleep comes quickly, but the comfort is short-lived.

The memory that haunts him returns, just like it always does. His body tenses, breath shallowing as he’s yanked back into the nightmare that never leaves him alone.

Fire. Smoke. The metallic taste of fear coating his tongue.

He tosses and turns, jaw clenched, fingers twitching as though trying to dig through rubble that isn’t there. His face contorts in distress, beads of sweat forming at his temple as the scene replays, relentless and unforgiving.

No.

He sprints toward the smoldering wreckage of what was once a home, his heart pounding harder than his boots against the ashy ground. The house was still standing only hours ago. He told them to leave, practically begged them to, but the charred remains of their car in the driveway tell him all he needs to know.

Still, he digs. His hands work frantically, shoving aside collapsed beams and shattered drywall, hoping—praying—that he won’t find what he’s looking for. That his gut feeling is wrong. That by some miracle, they made it out.

But then, he sees them.

A pair of burned bodies curled around something small. No, no, no, no…

His stomach twists violently as he stumbles back. The infant cradled in their lifeless arms, the baby he promised would be safe, is gone too.

His breath catches. The awful taste of failure coats his tongue, choking him.

You had planned to sleep hours ago, but the book you’re reading is just too good. Mika is curled up at your side, warm and comfortable, and you’ve convinced yourself that one more chapter won’t hurt.

Just as you shift under the covers, a faint noise catches your attention.

You sit up, ears straining. Was that… talking?

At first, it’s too muffled to make out. Maybe Seungcheol is on the phone? But then, clearer this time, desperate and pleading.

“No! No, please no!”

A shiver runs down your spine. That wasn’t the voice of someone having a casual conversation. That was pain.

You rush out of bed, heart hammering, and press your ear against the guest bedroom door. Faint whimpers slip through the painted wood, his distress clear even from the hallway.

“Seungcheol?” You crack the door open slightly, hesitant to intrude. “Is everything alright?”

But then he lets out a bloodcurdling scream.

Screw privacy.

You rush to his side, your hand finding his trembling shoulder. “Hey, it’s just a bad dream,” you say gently, settling onto the bed beside him. His breath comes in sharp, uneven gasps, his face twisted in agony. You shake him, not too hard but firm enough to pull him from the nightmare’s grip. “Seungcheol, wake up. You’re safe. It’s alright, everything is alright.”

His eyelids flutter, his gaze unfocused as he blinks up at you. “Y/N?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with exhaustion and something else, perhaps something raw like grief.

“I’m here,” you whisper, your touch instinctively soothing as you rub slow circles along his back. “Shh. Go back to sleep.”

His ragged breathing gradually evens out, his body loosening as the tension melts away. Just as you think he’s fully drifted off, you start to move, planning to slip away quietly.

But before you can, his arms tighten around you.

You stiffen, every muscle locking up as he pulls you back down, tucking you against his chest.

The warmth of him is immediate, wrapping around you like a cocoon. He moves on instinct, tossing the blanket over you, his hold protective, unconsciously seeking comfort.

You fit perfectly against him.

You try not to think about it. About how steady his heartbeat sounds beneath your ear. About how his breath brushes against your hair. About how ridiculously pretty his eyelashes are up this close. Or how full his lips look, even now, parted slightly in sleep.

You tell yourself you’ll stay just a few minutes. Just until he’s completely settled. But your eyelids grow heavy, the warmth of his embrace lulling you into quiet surrender.

And before you know it, you’ve slipped into slumber beside him.

A few hours later, sunlight peeks through the blinds, lighting up your face as you stir awake. You blink against the brightness, momentarily disoriented until the empty space beside you registers.

Seungcheol is gone.

You sit up quickly, heart stuttering. Shit. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep here. You should’ve woken up first and slipped out unnoticed, so you could pretend like nothing ever happened.

Did he realize you stayed? Of course, he realized. You were next to him when he got up.

Swinging your legs off the bed, you brush a hand through your hair and take a steadying breath before padding out into the main part of the house.

Through the window, you spot him outside with Mika. He’s already shoveled a bare patch for her, ensuring she doesn’t have to trudge through the deep snow just to do her business.

Your heart gives an inconvenient little patter.

Of course, he would remember to do that. He’s always so considerate, always catching onto things, even if you don’t realize he does.

You quietly retreat back to the primary bedroom, rifling through the duffel bag of clothes you brought. If you’re going to pretend last night didn’t happen, you might as well do it while looking cute. You settle on a cozy but flattering outfit, then jump into the shower, hoping the hot water will help clear your head.

By the time you emerge, refreshed and dressed, Seungcheol has come back inside.

“Morning,” he greets, looking up as you approach.

You hesitate, searching his expression for any hint of last night’s events, of waking up tangled together, of his unconscious grip pulling you closer.

But he doesn’t mention it. Huh, interesting.

“Hi,” you reply, forcing a casual smile. “Good morning.”

And just like that, it’s as if nothing ever happened. You keep your expression neutral, though a tiny pang of disappointment lingers. Pretending was your plan, so why does it sting a little when he beats you to it?

“I noticed the kitchen faucet was dripping this morning,” Seungcheol says, before drinking the rest of his coffee. “Tried fixing it, but I think it needs to be replaced. I’m gonna run into town to grab a new one. Want to escape for the day? We could grab lunch while we’re out.”

A break actually sounds nice. You haven’t gotten much writing done anyway, and the weight of waiting for feedback from your agent and publisher is pressing heavier by the hour.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I sent in my rough outline and a few chapters yesterday, but I haven’t heard anything back yet. I think the suspense is killing my creativity.”

He nods in understanding. “Makes sense. Want to get ready first?”

“Yeah, give me five minutes.”

Back in your room, you sift through your bag before settling on your favorite pair of jeans and a cropped crewneck that sits just right at your waist, warm enough for layering under your winter coat. You twist your hair into a claw clip, swipe on some mascara and lip gloss, then take one last glance in the mirror before heading out to meet him.

When you return, you find Seungcheol has changed too. He’s now wearing a flannel, dark slacks, and a ball cap. You squint, trying to make out the embroidered words. Dude’s Bait & Tackle.

“Who’s Dude?” you ask while slipping on your boots.

“My brother.”

Your head tilts slightly. “You have a brother?”

“Yeah, he’s a few years older than me. I probably don’t visit him as often as I should.” He shrugs, grabbing his jacket and the note he jotted down with the faucet’s dimensions. “Not that he minds, he’s not much of a people person.”

You nod, filing that little detail about him away. “Ready when you are.”

Grabbing your purse, you turn to Mika, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. “Be good, we’ll be back soon. I love you so much. Make good decisions, okay?”

Seungcheol fights back a laugh, secretly charmed by the way you treat Mika like a tiny, furry human. Instead, he simply shakes his head and opens the front door for you, following you out to his truck.

Without hesitation, he moves ahead to open the passenger door for you too.

Chivalry isn’t dead, after all.

“You don’t have to do that,” you say, feeling a little guilty for making him go out of his way.

“I know,” Seungcheol replies easily, offering his hand to help you up into the seat. “But I was raised to be a gentleman.” Then, with a small smirk, he adds, “Plus, I don’t mind helping a pretty girl.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “Oh, so if I was ugly, you’d just slam the door in my face? That's what you’re saying, Coupcake?”

His smirk deepens as he shakes his head, then suddenly leans in to buckle your seatbelt for you. Your breath catches, he’s close, so close. You catch a hint of his cologne, warm and woodsy, and your cheeks heat despite the cold air outside.

After clicking the buckle into place, he tilts his head slightly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. “I need to start writing these down. You’ve got some good ones.”

“Don’t encourage me, or I’ll have to pull out the big guns,” you tease, lifting a brow.

He chuckles, rolling his eyes as he steps back and shuts the door. A second later, he��s sliding into the driver’s seat beside you, the corners of his mouth still tugging into a smile.

And just like that, the day suddenly feels like it will be a lot more interesting.

Seungcheol wakes up feeling more rested than he has in a long time. A rare kind of warmth settles deep in his bones, the kind that makes him want to stay in bed just a little longer. He takes a slow breath in, and his senses are instantly flooded with you. Vanilla, soft and sweet, mixed with something else he hasn’t quite figured out yet.

His arms tighten around you instinctively before his brain fully catches up. Why are you in my bed? He doesn’t remember. But fuck, he’s not complaining.

Snuggling in a little deeper, his palm glides over your side, fingertips tracing the curve of your waist. You fit against him perfectly, your body molding into his like you were meant to be there.

And then you shift.

A small, unconscious movement, but it sends your ass pressing right against his already half-awake length, making him inhale sharply through his nose.

Shit.

He freezes, willing his body to relax. Don’t ruin this for me right now, he thinks to himself, demanding his body to behave. Clenching his jaw, he wills little Coups to calm the fuck down before this gets embarrassing.

And for a second, he thinks he has it under control. Until you shift again, this time pressing even closer, your warmth seeping through the layers of fabric between you.

Then, in the softest murmur, barely above a whisper, you breathe his name.

“Mmm, Seungcheol.”

His stomach clenches. His fingers twitch against your skin.

Holy. Fuck.

Yeah. He needs to get up. Right now. Before time reverts and he’s turned back into a horny teenager, about to embarrass himself in ways he will never recover from.

Carefully, Seungcheol pulls away from your warmth, slipping out from beneath the covers with as much stealth as he can manage. You barely stir, completely unaware of the hold you have over him. Over his mind, his body, his every last ounce of self-control.

He needs distance. Immediately.

Making his way down the hall, he beelines for the bathroom at the far end of the house, somewhere safely out of range, where he can get his shit together before he does something unbelievably stupid.

Like pinning you against the bookshelf in the living room and fucking you until you scream his name.

Or bending you over the kitchen counter, pushing your hair aside so he can bite down on your shoulder as he takes you from behind.

Or his personal favorite—his absolute fucking favorite—you on top of him, sinking down onto his cock inch by inch, gasping as you stretch around him. Maybe even making that same sinful little sound you let out the other night at dinner, when you were upset with him but still savoring every bite.

A deep groan rumbles in his chest as he steps into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

And finally, finally, he shoves his boxers down and wraps a fist around his aching cock.

Seungcheol drags his thumb over his needy tip, a shudder rolling down his spine. His body is desperate, pulsing with heat. He pulls his hand away just long enough to spit into his palm before wrapping it back around his aching length.

Shutting his eyes, he delves into the fantasy, one that feels so damn real he almost swears he can still smell your vanilla scent clinging to his skin.

In another world, he wouldn’t have left that bed. Wouldn’t have forced himself to walk away. No, he would’ve pulled you closer instead, arm tightening around your waist as his hand slipped beneath your sleep shorts. His fingers would have teased their way down, brushing over your clit before dragging through your folds, already damp and so warm. The moment he pressed inside, you’d gasp, surprised, shifting in his arms but not pulling away. Never pulling away.

His strokes quicken, his breath growing uneven.

You’d turn toward him, sleep-heavy eyes blinking open, and without a word, your thighs would part just a little wider, it’s an invitation. A plea he’d answer by curling two fingers deep inside you, coaxing those needy little pants from your lips, watching as your face melted with pleasure.

His grip tightens. His hips jerk up into his hand.

He knows exactly how it would go. Knows that soon enough, you’d be begging—please, Cheol, more—and fuck, he’d give it to you. He’d slide your shorts down, tug that tiny tank top over your head, confirming what he already knew. That you have the most perfect fucking tits. And then he’d sink into you without hesitation, stretching you open, watching your mouth fall open as you take him. With every thrust, your body would give, your back arching, your breasts bouncing, your nails digging into his skin as he buried himself deeper.

Seungcheol groans low in his throat, head tilting back against the wall. His hand moves faster, chasing the high that feels so close.

Jesus fuck.

You’d let him know you were close, breathless and needy, voice barely more than a whimper. Cheol, I’m gonna—

And just to push you over that perfect edge, he’d press his thumb to your swollen clit, applying just the right amount of pressure, slow and deliberate. He’d swirl it in tight circles, watching your body tremble, feeling your walls flutter around him as you gasped his name. And that would be it.

The way you’d squeeze around him, your body tightening, back arching as you came apart beneath him…it would wreck him completely. He’d follow you down, groaning against your skin as his own pleasure took hold, spilling deep inside—

Seungcheol’s stomach clenches as the tension finally snaps. A low, strangled curse leaves his lips as his release spills into the wad of toilet paper in his hand, his whole body shuddering with relief.

For a long moment, he just breathes. Letting the fantasy slowly fade, leaving only the lingering heat and the undeniable truth that settles deep in his chest. You have him wrapped around your fucking finger.

The worst part? You don’t even know it.

And if this morning was any indication, this sure as hell wouldn’t be the last time he nearly loses it in front of you.

He cleans himself up and steps out of the bathroom, only to be met with Mika sitting in the hallway, staring at him with what can only be described as judgment.

Seungcheol narrows his eyes. “I’m not admitting to anything,” he mutters, sidestepping her as he grabs his boots.

Carrying his boots over to the sliding glass door, he slips them on before letting Mika outside. The mountain air is sharp and bracing, biting at his exposed skin, but he welcomes the chill. He needs it to clear his head, to get his damn hormones in check before he faces you.

His eyes land on the shovel propped against the railing, right where you left it. With a quiet sigh, he picks it up and starts clearing a spot in the snow for Mika. It’s a small thing, but he knows she won’t go until she has her designated space. He’d caught onto the routine not long after watching the two of you in the mornings, your sleepy voice murmuring to her, the way she’d nuzzle against your leg as you shoveled.

It’s second nature to you. And now, somehow, it’s becoming second nature to him too.

On his way back inside, he peeks into the bedroom. You’re still curled up beneath the blankets, your breathing soft and even, completely oblivious to the chaos he just put himself through. He swallows, shaking his head, and reaches for his sweatpants that are flung haphazardly over the dresser. He tugs them on before heading into the kitchen, flicking on the coffee pot. As he fills it with water, his gaze catches on the steady drip, drip, drip of the kitchen faucet after he’s turned it off.

Perfect.

It’s a small issue, easy to fix, but also the perfect excuse to escape the house with you for a few hours. Get out. Get some air. Act like a normal human being who isn’t fantasizing about his housemate every time she so much as breathes.

It’s a genius plan, really.

At least, that’s what he tells himself.

And when you wake up, stretching with a sleepy yawn, he casually tosses out the idea. Just as he predicted, you happily agree. Now all he has to do is behave in public. Where other people are watching.

…

In the hardware store, Seungcheol notices how you’re walking closely by his side, the subtle shift in the space between you making his pulse quicken. He casually scans the aisle signs, looking for the one he needs, but his mind isn’t entirely focused on faucets. He feels the need to linger, to have you near just a few seconds longer.

Without overthinking, he places his hand on your lower back, guiding you toward the right aisle. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels significant. He pretends to inspect the faucet options, even though he already knows exactly which one he’s going to grab, but he takes his time, savoring the small moment.

While he’s there, he picks up a couple of tools he might need, he’s pretty sure the surgeon doesn’t have much in the handyman tool department. Junhui’s first aid kit, however, is incredible, containing everything from bandages to advanced trauma gear. All of which is perfectly organized. As a first responder, Seungcheol can respect it.

As he heads toward the checkout counter, his gaze drifts to a box of dog toys. He adds one to his pile without a second thought, a quiet smile tugging at his lips as he imagines Mika tearing into the new toy with her usual enthusiasm.

…

At lunch, you get a ding on your phone, and Seungcheol notices the frown that appears on your face.

“Everything alright?” he asks, thinking it might be a not-so-good update from Kate.

“I don’t know, it’s an email from my publishing team.” He watches as your eyes pan back and forth as you read the message, noticing the slight slump of your shoulders. “They want to have a call tomorrow morning to go over what I’ve submitted. That can’t be good.”

“Why do you think that?” he asks, his concern growing.

“They think I’m not exactly meeting expectations…” you sigh, hesitating for a moment before opening up. “I’m struggling with writing what they want versus how I see the story unfolding. I’m not sure the direction they’re pushing me in is the right one.”

Seungcheol leans back, thinking for a moment. “You should just write what you want. Forget about what your readers expect, forget about what your team suggests. Focus on what you want the story to be.”

You take another bite of your meal, letting his words sink in. A part of you feels the weight lift just a little, even as you continue to grapple with the balance between creative freedom and external pressure.

“I’m not sure how much help I’d be, but if you’d like me to read over what you have so far, I’d be happy to give you an outsider’s opinion,” Seungcheol offers.

You hadn’t expected him to offer, and it caught you off guard for a moment.

“Feeling a change of heart compared to the other day?” you tease, remembering how flustered he got after sneaking a peek at the spicy scene you were writing. “It’s alright. I’m sure after tomorrow I’ll at least know what they’re thinking. It’ll be good to talk it out.”

He shrugs with a slight smile. “Okay, but the offer still stands.”

“Thank you,” you say, genuinely appreciating the offer. “Now, it’s your turn, Cheol Chops. Tell me something about your life to make me feel better about mine,” you half-joke. “Got anything you need to vent about?”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. “On a scale from zero to Junhui, how good are you at giving advice?”

You both know that Jun is the king of advice. He’s logical and always happy to provide a pro/con list. You smile at the thought. “Probably about 50% Jun, but I lean more towards emotional advice rather than logical. So, take that as a fair warning. What’s up?”

Seungcheol sighs, his voice quieter as he opens up. “I broke a promise that I can’t take back, nor can I fix it. It’s caused some issues at work, and my fire chief put me on temporary leave so I can work through it. But now I’m really thinking about what I want to do next.”

You listen intently, noticing the weight of his words.

“I mentioned the other day that I don’t think wildland firefighting is something I can keep up with. But I don’t want to give up firefighting entirely, so I’ve been considering transferring to an inner-city station. I’d still get the rush of helping people, but it wouldn’t be as physically or mentally demanding. I’d be working in shifts, and the change in scenery could be good for me.”

His eyes drift down, clearly conflicted. “I was really hoping to talk to Jun about it, but I didn't want to bother him, considering everything going on right now. I’m just not sure what the right choice is. What do you think? Should I go back after my leave and risk more trouble, or try something new and potentially fail at it?”

His question hangs in the air, a mix of uncertainty and hope. You can see how much he's wrestling with it, and you want to help him make the decision that feels right.

“I’d say try something new,” you reply thoughtfully, meeting his gaze. “Otherwise, you might find yourself back in the same place, struggling again. Plus, if you give the city option a shot and it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll know. It’s not a failure; it’s just learning something about yourself. And that’s always a win in my eyes. It takes courage to step into the unknown.”

Seungcheol feels a slight weight lift off his chest, a warmth spreading in his chest hearing you say that. It’s a small comfort, but it’s enough to give him a bit more clarity, a bit more peace to make that upcoming decision.

Day Seven of Surviving Seungcheol

Sleep was impossible last night. You were too tangled in anxious thoughts to get any actual rest, and now the nerves are eating you alive. You’re jittery as you sit in front of your laptop, the glow of the screen casting a faint light on your face. The meeting is about to start, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest.

Every second that ticks by feels like an eternity, your hands nervously tapping against the edge of the desk as you wait for your team to join the call.

You sit up straighter after the familiar faces appear, trying to shake off the anxiety in your chest as your agent speaks, his voice steady but distant through the screen. You can feel the tension coiling inside you, your nerves prickling with each word.

“Thanks for meeting with us on such short notice,” your agent continues, giving you a polite but businesslike smile. “I know you mentioned being out of town, so we appreciate you making time for us virtually.”

You nod, offering a weak smile in return. “Of course. I’m glad we could make it work.” Your voice comes out a little more strained than you intend, but they don’t seem to notice.

The conversation moves into expectations. They want ‘less dense material, more filler and fluff between the spicy scenes,’ your agent explains, his tone matter-of-fact.

Your heart sinks. Fluff? You don’t want to write a story full of empty space. You’ve poured your soul into creating a rich world, with real characters and stakes, and now they’re asking for less of that?

You can feel the frustration bubbling up, but you push it back, trying to keep your voice steady. “So, you want me to cut out the fantasy aspects? Completely?”

Your agent shifts, clearly trying to soften the blow. “Not entirely. Maybe just scale it back. We think a more erotic romance-focused direction will make the story more accessible. It’ll be easier to market.”

The words sting. You’ve always known writing was a business, but this? This feels like a betrayal of everything you’ve worked toward.

“But that’s not what my reader base expects,” you argue, leaning forward. “They’ve followed me for the story, for the world-building. They expect something more than just... fluff.”

Your agent presses on, oblivious to your concerns. “Look, we think this could broaden your reach, and gain thousands of new readers. We’re just thinking of your career in the long run.”

You feel a knot forming in your stomach. Thousands of new readers? As if the thousands you currently have aren’t enough? The idea of broadening your reader base sounds nice on paper, but what about the readers who’ve supported you from the start? What about the integrity of your work?

“But what about the people who’ve been with me since the beginning?” you ask, voice shaking slightly. “Don’t they deserve to see the series grow, not change into something...plain and unoriginal?”

Your agent’s expression tightens. “Without this kind of direction, there won’t be another book in the series. We can’t keep moving forward unless we adapt.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and you struggle to hold it together. The meeting wraps up soon after, but it feels like you’re in a fog, your thoughts spinning. You want to fight back, to defend your story, but the weight of their words crushes you.

You slouch in your seat still just as confused as you were before. What now?

Whenever something bad happens in your life, you’ve always used writing as an escape. But what are you supposed to do when writing becomes an issue?

Sighing, you open your document, eyes scanning over the words you once felt so confident about. Even now, despite everything, they still feel right. And as you reread where you left off, the next scene unfolds effortlessly in your mind.

You lose yourself in your draft, letting Seungcheol’s words echo in your head—write for yourself, write what you want. For the first time in a while, the words flow without hesitation, without second-guessing. Hours slip away unnoticed as your fingers dance over the keyboard, lost in the world you’re creating.

When Seungcheol returns from his run, you hesitate. The weight of your earlier meeting lingers, but you don’t have the energy to explain the looming uncertainty of your novel. How, depending on what happens next, either your team will break your contract, or your readers will revolt over a boring porn-only sequel. Instead, you keep typing, pushing the thoughts away, if only for a little while longer.

Seungcheol doesn’t need words to know something is wrong. He can sense it. The weight in your shoulders, the distant look in your eyes, the way your fingers hover over your keyboard as if second-guessing every word. It doesn’t take much to assume that your meeting didn’t go well.

He wants to ask, but he also knows you well enough after your short time together to recognize that, right now, you’re not ready to talk about it. Still, that doesn’t mean he won’t do something about it.

He hates seeing you like this. If he could, he’d take your burdens onto his own shoulders without hesitation. He’d do anything to lift your mood, to see your lips curve into a genuine smile again. And if you cried, fuck, if they made you cry? He’d burn the whole damn world down just to set things right.

For now, though, he settles for something smaller. Something simple. He disappears into the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets until he finds what he’s looking for. A few minutes later, the scent of freshly made hot chocolate drifts through the air.

He returns with two full mugs, topped with whipped cream and mini marshmallows. He sets one of the mugs beside you without a word before sinking into the chair across from you.

You sigh, closing your laptop before reaching for the mug. The warmth seeps into your fingers as you take a sip, letting the rich aroma settle some of the unease twisting in your chest.

The two of you sit there in silence, but it’s the comfortable kind. No pressure, no expectations, just the quietness of passing time and the mesmerizing sight of snow falling beyond the window.

When your drinks are finished, Seungcheol takes both mugs to the sink. As he rinses them out, he casually suggests, “You should take a break from writing, clear your head a little.” Then, he turns toward Mika, who’s curled up on the floor. “Mika, wanna go play outside?”

She springs up immediately, her tail wagging as she yaps her answer. He grins. “Tell your mom to get dressed. We wanna play in the snow.”

Mika barks again, turning toward you as if relaying the message. You can’t help but smile.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”

Bundling up in your winter gear, the three of you step outside into the crisp mountain air.

Mika takes off instantly, rolling in the fresh snow, kicking it up into the air like a puppy experiencing winter for the first time. She’s gonna be so sad in a few days when it’s time to leave the mountains and head back to the city where it’s already spring.

You laugh, watching her antics until something cold smacks into your side.

You blink, looking down at the splattered bits of snow before turning toward Seungcheol. He’s standing there, hands tucked innocently behind his back, lips pressed together like he’s trying to suppress a smirk.

“Oh, it’s on,” you warn, crouching to scoop up a handful of snow. You bunch it together in your mittens before launching it at him. It hits him square in the chest, and he stumbles back slightly, eyes wide with surprise at your strength

“Cheolmate,” you declare triumphantly, playing on the word checkmate.

His surprise quickly shifts into a determined grin. “Alright, you asked for it.”

Snowballs fly back and forth as laughter fills the backyard. Mika jumps between you both, snapping at the falling snowflakes and occasionally catching a snowball in her mouth, only to crunch it into oblivion.

Eventually, she loses interest in the fight altogether and gets the zoomies, tunneling through the snow and popping her head up every few feet, like a giddy little groundhog.

Seungcheol pauses mid-throw, watching her with amusement. “Your dog is ridiculous.”

You laugh, cheeks flushed from the cold and the playful chaos. “Yeah, but she fits right in.”

Seungcheol chuckles, moving to stand beside you. Watching you smile, hearing your laughter, it’s everything to him. The way your eyes crinkle at the corners as you watch Mika, the way your dimples deepen with each laugh, the way your entire face lights up with unfiltered joy when you meet his eyes. It’s mesmerizing. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.

This is exactly what you need. And if he has anything to do with it, he’ll make sure you keep smiling like this. Always.

The snow begins to fall heavier, dusting both of you with a delicate layer of white. Mika is still running circles in the snow, but your focus is on each other now.

Without thinking, Seungcheol pulls off one of his gloves and reaches out, his fingers brushing gently over your face as he wipes away the snowflakes clinging to your eyelashes. His touch lingers, warm against your chilled skin, and his thumb instinctively strokes your cheek.

Your breath catches when his eyes flick down to your lips, and suddenly, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intense.

Neither of you move for a moment. You stare into each other's eyes as the world around you fades, except for the quiet inhale you take when he slowly leans in.

Before you even realize it, your faces are close enough that his breath fans across your lips.

And then, he finally closes the distance.

His lips press softly against yours; he’s testing the waters and savoring the moment. But the second he feels you respond, the hesitation vanishes. The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, laced with emotions neither of you have dared to voice. His hand cradles your face, fingers brushing along your chilled skin as he tilts your chin, pulling you impossibly closer.

It’s warm, intoxicating, perfect.

Your arms wind around his neck, fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your lips. He responds in kind, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, drawing a sinful little moan from deep within you.

Seungcheol smiles into the kiss, reveling in how effortlessly you melt into him. How he somehow knows exactly what you like, what you crave. It’s instinctive, effortless like you were always meant to be right here, in his arms.

The world around you ceases to exist. The snowfall, the cold, the rest of the universe, it all fades into insignificance. There is only him. Only the way he kisses you like you’re the most important thing in the world.

When you finally pull apart, your foreheads rest together, breath mingling in the crisp air. Your heart stammers wildly in your chest as a terrifying, undeniable truth settles in.

Shit.

Day Nine of Surviving Falling For Seungcheol

Ever since you accepted the fact that you have feelings for Seungcheol (very strong feelings, the kind that makes you want to do crazy, reckless, and borderline courageous things) you haven’t been sure how to act around him.

The past two days have been an absolute disaster. You’ve been a clumsy fool, tripping over your own feet, your words, your thoughts. Which, to be fair, isn’t all that different from any other given day. But now? Now it’s worse, because he’s here witnessing it all, and probably very aware of the fact that he’s the one doing it to you.

Yet, Seungcheol is acting completely normal. Like nothing happened. Like that kiss, the one that turned your entire world upside down, didn’t affect him at all.

Unless...it really didn’t affect him.

And in that case, you’re utterly and completely screwed.

You’re not exactly avoiding each other, but neither of you seems willing to make the first move. Or, technically, the second. It’s a silent game of waiting to see who will cave first.

You want to say screw it and just kiss him again. But what if it was a fluke? What if he only kissed you to make you feel better? Then again, who does that? Who kisses someone just to cheer them up? There had to be something behind it. Right?

You don’t know when it happened or how, maybe it was when he pulled you from your wrecked car, or when he made you coffee that first morning, or when he looked at you like that after your kiss.

Or maybe, just maybe, you've felt this way all along…

After helping clean up dinner, you busy yourself putting away the clean dishes. Watching Seungcheol cook is one thing, but watching him do something as simple as washing dishes? That’s an entirely different level of unfair. The way his forearms flex, the way his hand veins pop out as he scrubs a plate clean, it makes you want to throw all logic out the window and climb him like a tree.

Boyfriend material. Without a doubt.

You need to get a grip.

Sensing your stare, he glances over his shoulder, one brow slightly raised, and you immediately whip your head away. Play it cool. You suddenly need a distraction, so you head to the fridge, reaching for a bottle of water—except, of course, the one you want is just out of reach.

Before you can even debate climbing onto the counter, Seungcheol is there, stepping in behind you without hesitation.

“Here, I got it.”

He moves in close, his chest nearly brushing against your back as he stretches over you. One hand instinctively finds your waist to steady himself, his fingers warm even through the fabric of your shirt. The brief contact sends a jolt through you, but before you can dwell on it, he grabs the bottle and hands it over.

You barely have time to mutter a thanks before your grip fails you and the cold bottle slips from your fingers, tumbling to the floor.

With a sigh, you bend down to retrieve it only to realize that Seungcheol hasn’t stepped back as far as you thought. Your ass brushes against his thigh, and the accidental touch sends a shockwave through both of you.

Startled, you jolt upright, only to whack your head against the counter.

“Shit—are you okay?” Seungcheol asks, immediately reaching for you.

“I’m okay, really,” you insist, waving him off despite the way your face flames with embarrassment.

…

Seungcheol feels bad, really bad. He can’t shake the thought that this is his fault. You seem so uncomfortable around him now that you’re practically injuring yourself just trying to avoid him. At least, that’s what he assumes.

Every time he speaks to you or even just walks by, he notices the way you tense up, how your responses are shorter than usual, like you’re trying to keep him at arm’s length. And it kills him.

But a part of him, a hopeful part, wants to believe that you’re not uncomfortable because you regret the kiss. Maybe you’re feeling the same way he does, wanting more but unsure how to ask for it.

He’s trying to be considerate, giving you space, not wanting to pressure you into anything. But at the same time, he’s starting to second-guess everything. Are your subtle reactions just in his head? Is he reading too much into the way your eyes linger on him, the way your breath hitches when he gets too close?

Or is he not imagining it at all?

He’s gotta do something to figure you out. That’s his only option at this point. If you’d just give him the smallest hint that you want him, he’ll take the lead—gladly. He’ll show you exactly what happens when you both stop tiptoeing around whatever this is and finally give in.

“You know,” you say suddenly, breaking the silence, “Besides the fact that we’ve been stuck together for the last week, we don’t actually know a whole lot about each other.”

Seungcheol finishes rinsing out the sink, dries his hands on a dish towel, and turns to lean against the counter. He crosses his arms before suggesting something, “Huh, you have a point. Maybe we should change that. Let’s play a game.”

You narrow your eyes. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare,” he says, failing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.

You huff out a laugh. “Really? That’s what we’re going with?”

“Yep. Unless you’re scared.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. You go first, then.”

“Dare.” He doesn’t hesitate.

You think for a moment, then grin. “I dare you to call your mom so I can talk to her again. I’m sure she’s got quite a few stories of you to share.”

One of his eyebrows arches before he lets out a chuckle. “Or?”

“Or, if you pass, you have to take a drink.”

Seungcheol snorts, shaking his head. “Hand me a drink then, hun.”

It slips out so naturally, so effortlessly, that he doesn’t even try to recover from it. Why should he? You’ve got an entire arsenal of nicknames for him, what’s the big deal if he throws one back?

His eyes trail down your backside as you turn to the fridge, returning with two beers. He watches the way you move, how your shirt lifts up just slightly when you grab the bottles, revealing a little slice of skin where he’d like to place his lips.

Seungcheol swallows hard and extends his hand out for one of the beers when you turn back around. “Under any other circumstances, I’d let you chat with my mom,” he says with a teasing smile. “But not tonight.” He cracks open the bottle, his gaze locked on yours as he lifts it to his lips.

You roll your eyes, taking a sip of your drink to settle your nerves.

“Alright, your turn now.”

“Truth,” you say, chickening out.

He grins, sensing your hesitation. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

You groan, “Oh god. The day we met, actually. I ripped my pants escaping through the restaurant’s bathroom window, that’s how bad the date was.”

Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head. That absolutely sounds like something you’d do.

“Kate set me up with the guy, and it was a total disaster. He was rude, his manners were just for show, and it felt like every nice thing he did came with an expectation. Like if he opened the door for me, I owed him something in return, you know?”

Seungcheol's grip tightens around his beer bottle. He does know. And the thought of some guy treating you like that makes his blood boil.

“Okay, your turn again.”

“Truth.”

“Why did you kiss me?” you blurt out.

Seungcheol meets your gaze, his expression is soft but unwavering. “Because I really wanted to,” he admits, remembering every little detail of that kiss. Like how warm you were, how perfectly you fit in his arms, how he hadn’t been able to think about anything else since.

Your breath hitches for a moment, but you quickly recover. “Dare.”

A wild thought crosses his mind, and once it’s there, he can’t shake it. He leans in slightly, watching you carefully. “I dare you to finish your drink and then join me in the hot tub.”

The challenge in his voice sends a thrill down your spine. Without hesitation, you tip your head back, downing the rest of your beer. Then, without breaking eye contact, you peel off your shirt, revealing the sheer bra underneath.

“You coming?” you ask playfully, tossing your shirt aside and heading toward the backyard.

Seungcheol just stands there for a second, his brain short-circuiting. He was expecting a little resistance, maybe a joke, but this? Oh, this is so much better.

Swallowing hard, he follows you onto the deck, where you’re slipping off your pants. Fuck. He quickly removes the hot tub cover while you turn it on. The air might be a little chilly, but his body is running hot.

And then you bend over to test the water temperature, still in nothing but your bra and panties, and Seungcheol has to force himself to look anywhere else. If someone had told him earlier today that by nightfall, he’d be out here with you, watching you strip down like it was the most natural thing in the world, he’d have laughed.

But now? Now, he’s just thanking whatever divine force made this his lucky day.

He tosses his shirt aside, then his pants, barely paying attention to where they land. What he does pay attention to, though, is the way your eyes rake over him, the way your breath quickens for just a second. Another perk of being a firefighter is that the hard training keeps you in shape. All those workouts? Yeah, they were worth it just for this moment, just to see you looking at him like that.

“Help me in?” you ask, reaching out.

He takes your hand without hesitation, steadying you as you step up and lower yourself into the steaming, bubbling water. His grip lingers for just a second longer than necessary before he follows you in, sighing as the heat works into his muscles.

“This is nice,” he says, settling in, tilting his head back against the edge. The jets work at the tension in his lower back, but the real relief is sitting across from him, grinning like you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Mmm, it really is,” you hum in agreement. Then, with a mischievous, playful glint in your eye, you remind him, “It’s your turn, by the way.”

Oh, right. The game.

“Dare,” he says, smirking, willing to test just how far you’re willing to push this thing between the two of you.

Your grin deepens. “Take off your boxers.”

He arches a brow, amused but not remotely hesitant. Maintaining eye contact, he lifts his hips just enough to slide the soaked fabric down his legs and tosses them onto the deck with the rest of his clothes. The water swirls around him, warm and teasing, but nothing about this feels as thrilling as the way your smile slowly spreads, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you watch him.

“I didn’t think you actually would,” you tease.

He leans in just a little, voice low, teasing right back. “One thing you should know about me, sweetheart,” his smirk turns positively sinful, “I never turn down a challenge.”

You roll your eyes and splash water in his face. "Coupsie Daisy, my bad," you half-heartedly apologize, even though you’re anything but sorry.

Seungcheol wipes the water from his face slowly, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he stares at you with darkened eyes. The playful banter between you shifts into something heavier.

Without overthinking, you move. Climbing onto his lap, your knees press into the seat on either side of him, your barely-there panties doing nothing to hide how hard he already is beneath you. A shaky breath leaves your lips at the contact, and you feel the way his grip tightens on your waist, the way his fingertips begin to trace the curve of your spine.

There’s no pretending now. No more second-guessing. Your bodies are reacting on instinct, drawn to each other like it’s inevitable.

His voice is lower when he finally speaks, his breath warm against your lips. "Are we really going to do this?"

“That depends,” you whisper, rolling your hips just enough to make his fingers dig into your skin. “Is it a dare?”

His jaw clenches. “Do you want it to be?”

“No,” you breathe, tilting forward, your lips brushing against his. “I just want you.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs.

Seungcheol crashes his lips against yours, swallowing your gasp as his hands roam your back, pulling you in until there’s no space left between you.

This kiss is nothing like the last. That one had been sweet and gentle. But this? This is fire, hunger, and need all wrapped into one.

You moan into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you, sending a shiver straight to his cock. The reaction is immediate, and he twitches beneath you, hard and heavy against your core.

You roll your hips again, relishing the way he groans against your lips. “Fuck, you feel so big,” you murmur between feverish kisses, your voice laced with desperation.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, deepening the kiss as his fingers reach behind you. With practiced fingers, he unclasps your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders and down your arms before it disappears into the water.

Seungcheol pulls back just enough to take you in, his gaze hungry as it rakes over your bare chest. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he breathes, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

Then, without warning, he dips his head down, capturing one in his mouth. The heat of his tongue swirls around the sensitive nub before he sucks, making you arch into him with a soft whimper. He moves to the other, giving it just as much attention, his teeth grazing teasingly before soothing the sting with his tongue.

Your fingers sink into his damp hair, nails scratching against his scalp as you pant, “Cheol, I need more.”

Your hand drifts between your bodies, wrapping around his stiff length beneath the water. The moment your fingers curl around him, a deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest. And that’s when he just about loses it.

“Wait,” he rasps against your lips, pulling back just enough to press his forehead against yours. His breath is ragged, his self-control hanging by a thread. “Wait, baby. Not here.”

His fingers grip your hips, keeping you steady as he stands, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, your arms looping around his neck as he carries you inside.

His lips find yours again as he moves, each step purposeful. He’s determined. The cool air of the house is a stark contrast to the heat rolling off both of you, but it only makes you cling to him tighter.

He doesn’t stop until he reaches your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Then, with a wicked smirk, he lays you down on the bed, hovering over you with darkened eyes full of promise.

"Now," he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw, down your neck, "Let me show you how much I want you."

His lips reconnect with your breast, tongue tracing delicate circles over your sensitive skin, while his hand continues its descent. His fingers skim over your stomach, teasing along the waistband of your soaked panties before slipping beneath them.

A small gasp leaves your lips when he pushes the fabric aside, his fingers sliding effortlessly through your slick folds.

Seungcheol pulls back just slightly, his heated gaze locked onto your face as he curls his fingers into you, slow and deliberate. He watches the way your brows furrow, your mouth parting in a silent moan, completely captivated by how responsive you are to him.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he repeats, voice thick with desire as he leans in, capturing your lips once more.

The pressure in your core builds rapidly, his fingers coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. Every movement, every stroke, brings you closer and closer to the edge. Your whole body tightens in anticipation. You’re right there—

Suddenly, the sharp chime of your ringtone cuts through the air, breaking the spell between you both. Your breath is still ragged as your eyes snap to your phone on the nightstand, Kate’s photo lighting up the screen.

Seungcheol tears away from you like shrapnel, realization washing over him as he runs a hand through his damp hair. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and for a moment, he just stares at the phone, then back at you, still spread beneath him, panting, needy.

“You should probably answer that,” he says, voice rough as he clears his throat. He hesitates for only a second before adding, “Maybe we should call it a night.”

Before you can protest, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, as if to ground himself, before stepping back and leaving you sitting there, exposed and still trembling from the almost earth-shattering orgasm you were supposed to have.

With a deep breath, you shake yourself out of your daze and reach for the phone.

“Hello?” you answer, voice still breathless.

Kate doesn’t seem to notice. “I have good news! Surgery went well, and we should be home sooner than we thought. I’ll know more tomorrow, but I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

She continues explaining the procedure, detailing what the surgeons discovered and their plan moving forward, but you’re only half-listening.

Your body is still buzzing, your mind stuck on the way Seungcheol had just touched you, the way he looked at you like you were something he wanted to consume entirely.

And worse than that? The way you still want him right this minute.

“That’s great news. I’m sure Jun is relieved.”

“He is,” Kate says, her voice lighter than it has been in days. Then, after a brief pause, she adds, “Now, want to tell me what took you so long to answer? I called twice.”

Your stomach flips. “Oh, um. I was just busy doing…chores…” you lie, hoping she doesn’t catch the slight tremor in your voice.

Kate is silent for a second, and you can practically hear the smirk forming on her lips. “Oh really? Chores? Is that Cheol’s newest nickname?”

Your mouth falls open. “Shut up,” you grumble, face burning.

She just cackles. “Mm-hmm. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

“Bye! And don’t forget to use protection!” she sings before hanging up.

You groan, tossing your phone onto the bed, and flopping down beside it. Of course, she figured it out. Sisterly intuition should be illegal.

After a deep breath, you drag yourself up and crack your door open, peeking into the hallway. Seungcheol’s door is shut. He’s probably already asleep.

With a sigh, you change into your pajamas, leaving your door slightly ajar. Not just for Mika when she finally decides to come to bed, but for him, too. You know, just in case.

But the house stays quiet, and the only visitor to your room that night is Mika, who hops onto the bed and curls up at your feet.

Still, as you settle under the covers, your mind drifts back to the heat of Seungcheol’s hands, the weight of his body, the hunger in his gaze.

You fall asleep thinking about all the ways he could satisfy you. would satisfy you, if only you’d had just a little more time.

→ READ PART 2 ⟡⋆⟡ SERIES MLIST ←

→ Taglist: want to be notified when i post new fics join my taglist here! OR follow @shadowkoo-fics & turn on post notifications! OR subscribe to my ao3 page!

@gyupremacy @beomcoups @yoonguurt @lovetaroandtaemin @daniela-f-uwu @gyuguys @fancypeacepersona

⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆

868 notes · View notes