#DoKyeom x reader

[belovedgyu]

VANILLA PASTOTTO || Lee Seokmin

⚬ pairing: boyfriend! seokmin x fem! reader ⚬ word count: 6.7k ⚬ warnings: heavy mentions of food, suggestive, oral (f. receiving), foodplay, nsfw content and smut, MDNI ⚬ genres: fluff, humor, smut, domesticated seokminnie.

a/n: - inspired by the comment from @coupsarchive and this fic request from @buzybeezies <3 - takes place in the same universe as fashion show because i refuse to move on - seokmin doesn't cum in this one AND BEFORE YOU PULL OUT YOUR PITCHFORKS, lemme know if you need a part 2 cause i'll write it asap! - unedited and raw cause i have no concept of shame or embarrassment and also because my current wip is kickin my ass!! a fluffy dokyeom fic is what i needed to be fixed so yea this is just veryyy self indulgent!

Last weekend was pivotal for your relationship with Seokmin for two reasons. 

One, because your parents finally got to meet him over dinner at your house. 

Two, because after months of him being your perfect, swoonworthy, cuddle-god, dishwashing-daddy, breakfast-in-bed-bringer, backhug-demon, human-shaped-serotonin-dispenser boyfriend, you had finally found his fatal flaw. 

Lee Seokmin wasn’t as loyal as he appeared to be. Your trust had wavered, trembling with shivers that emerged from the very foundation, when he did what he did that weekend. 

The gush of moisture behind his pursed lips the moment those tanned curves came into his view. 

The unfaithful oscillation of his eyes between you and those butyraceous hunks of delicate softness—unabashed and unapologetic, even as you spoke!

And the way his fingers dug into the plump flesh when you were too focused discussing soccer with your sister, like you wouldn’t notice his sated smirk after the debauchery he had just connivingly committed—

Well, maybe that’s a bit dramatic. But you were convinced that if given the chance to, Seokmin would cheat on you and marry your mom’s garlic knots. 

Those golden, glossy, buttery garlic knots. 

When he finally got the chance to latch his teeth into them, there was a pause. A soft, sinful exhale. A near whimper, even. 

It made your fork slip from your fingers and land on the table with a loud clang. You gnashed your teeth, wishing it had stabbed the irresistibly veiny hands of the traitor next to you instead. 

You would have talked yourself out of it...forgiven him even, had it stopped there. 

But it didn’t. 

And as the evening matured, so did his audacity. 

He continued betraying you, one bite at a time. 

Eyes fluttering around the truffle risotto, reluctant lips wrapped around the dessert spoon—suckling on it until there wasn’t even an atomic trace of the tiramisu left on it. 

Lee Seokmin was shamelessly gutsy to be reacting to that three course meal in the same way he reacted to your lips. Both lips, in fact. 

He was flirting with the concept of beurre blanc profoundly, even calling it liquid gold. Yeah, right. As if that wasn’t the exact phrase he had used that morning after emerging breathless, wet-lipped and pink from between your legs. 

All men do is tell lies. Sourdough-scented lies. 

But he was also slashing off the only thing on your consolidated to-do list for the night effortlessly—-charming the hell out of your parents. 

So you just retouched your lip-tint and watched him chew with a look in your eyes that was only reserved for the sophomore couple who were always hogging up the seat next your favorite one and giggling way too loud in the library. 

When he caught you staring, you gave him a polite smile concealing your bruised heart under your tightened jaw. And then he drove you back with your fingers knotted in his lap, blissfully unaware that you had tucked that night in a silk lined pocket of your brain where petty grudges went to marinate. 

Now what were you if not an elaborate revenge-plot planner and executioner? 

You gave yourself two weeks tops—to strategize and handle logistics. Well, Mingyu’s assistance had to be recruited for that second part because you couldn’t trust anyone else, not even yourself, to get the right groceries. 

But for the rest, it was a one woman mission and you were nailing it flawlessly so far. 

Everything was laid out on the marble kitchen top—color coded. The bluetooth speaker that you had “borrowed” from Jun some seven months ago bumped Avril Lavigne in a corner while Tofu, your spooky smart shih tzu was plopped on his belly nestled between the warm kitchen towels—pretending to sleep but actually here for the drama. 

You monitored the dog closely as he sleepily rubbed his wet nose against his little paw, you swear you even saw his tail wag once. 

Sneaky bastard. He knew you never stepped into the kitchen and was here to witness this historic battle of Y/n versus the several similar buttons of a rice cooker. 

Hah, jokes on him! Because the feast you had planned didn’t even need a rice cooker. 

Your mission was simple: a three-course meal. Handmade. Artisanal. Romantic.

Risotto, like your mom’s, albeit you were going to substitute the rice for something way better. 

Garlic knots—your own version. 

And maybe a roasted veggie side dish because it felt fancy. You even considered dessert if time allowed you to. 

The clock struck three at noon. You had a total of four hours at hand as Soonyoung distracted your boyfriend with a DIY bookcase project at his place. 

“Let’s do this, Tofu. You’re gonna see mommy channelize Wolfgang Puck today.” You fused, tying your hair up in a tight bun. 

Tofu lifted his head up, impassive and aloof, then thumped his tail from side to side like he saw right through your cool girl facade—your grey sweater had turned black with sweat under your arms after all. 

You covered him with another fresh towel, not liking his judgemental brown eyes as you waited for your mom to pick up the phone. 

Yeah, you were too smart to fall for the trap of going through a billion recipes online and then ending up with an abominable amalgamation of lard and frosting. This was a quest which required one to seek the wisdom of the sensei of the highest order. 

She picked up right before the call could disconnect on its own. 

“Hey sweetie!” You were met by the image of her freakishly large nose balancing her spectacles. 

“Mom, I need you to step a little away from the phone.” 

“But I am on my iPad, dear.” she wondered and you could already see her fingers beginning to tap at the screen. 

Before she could accidentally end the call or put her device on airplane mode, you quipped. “Then step away from the iPad mom, I can’t see you.”

You heard some shuffling as your mom balanced her iPad against a stack of books and then took a few steps back. “Better?” She asked.

“Great!” You finally chirped, letting your shoulders slump. “Now, I got all the ingredients you asked me to buy but I don’t want my food to be exactly like yours…so just give me generic instructions as we go, kk?”

“Are you sure, dear? I mean you lumped up that mac’n cheese pretty ba—”

“Mom, the instructions were in German.” You defended before that lore could reach Tofu's suddenly erected ears peeking from under the towels.

“Alright, alright…” Your mom sighed, “just start with the basics. For the garlic bread, you need to prepare the dough first.”

“On it!” You picked up the half full bag of flour that you got from Mingyu’s pantry. “Do I just mix it with water?” you were already dumping it out in the steel bowl of the stand mixer. 

“No, no, my love!” Your mother nearly winced, this was going to be a long one. “You first need to bloom the yeast in warm water.”

That made you pause. “Oh…how do I do that?”

“Just put some warm water in a bowl. And then pour the yeast over it, cover it and let it sit while I tell you what to do next.”

“Okay, okay…” the crease between your brows which was settled deep right now only occurred when you were trying to solve your physics worksheets on two hours of sleep. 

Your eyes bounced around on every ingredient that could be yeast. 

Too aware of your looming predicament, the woman who knew very well just what you were struggling with, spoke up from the other side of the screen. “Look for a packet, dear. Yeast powder comes in a packet.”

You perked up when you saw a hint of the purple sachet being warmed under Tofu’s belly. 

“Found it!” You snatched it from the little menace. 

Meticulously, you poured out some warm water from your kettle and sprinkled the activator on top of it. “What now, mom?”

“Okay so the yeast needs salt…” Your mom drawled, but got distracted with some pop up notification. 

You weren’t completely clueless, though, so you dunked a generous helping of salt into the mixture. 

“...but the yeast doesn’t like salt. So we’ll incorporate it in with the flour.”

Uh oh. 

A little salt wouldn’t hurt, right? You opened your mouth to ask, but your mom cut you off.

“Also, sweetie I hope you ensured that the water wasn’t too hot? Anything above 130 degrees kills the yeast.”

“Oh my God, mom! The last time I worried this much about yeast was when I spilled that milkshake over my crotch and had to sit in it for a three hour long road trip in high school.” You grumped, dumping out the nearly boiling water in which, apparently, yeast carcasses were floating now. 

There was a long pause on the other end which made you wonder if she was even there.

“Oh, oh…” Realisation hit your mom in delayed waves of amusement. “Oh you’re making a joke about yeast infection in your vagina—”

“Please don’t say that.” 

It seemed like your friend had anticipated you to fail because he got you not just one, but three packets of yeast. You prepared another bowl while your mother went off about the importance of maintaining the pH balance down there. 

It was moments like these—when your mom would go off on these tangents from her biker-girl days and her carnal adventures with a band of vagabonds—which made you wish your body parts were detachable. Because all you wanted to do right now was tug your ears off, shuck them in the washing machine and forget about them like Seokmin forgets about his grey socks. 

“Okay, what next?” You sighed once you were done chopping shallots and making the executive decision of holding back your opinions about whatever desecration you just heard until you were sitting in front of your journal in a safe space. Perhaps an asylum. 

“Cook the onion in some olive oil until translucent.”

Damn it, Kim Mingyu. He had gotten most of this stuff either from his own kitchen or from this one hippy, organic grocery store he swore by which, for some reason, didn't believe in putting a label on what they sold. 

Thus, it was hard for you to discern what glass bottle contained honey and which one had olive oil. 

It was only after you had poured the thicker liquid on the searing hot pan and it began sizzling into a burnt, sugary goo that you realized that you'll have to clean the pan then start again. 

In the meantime, your mother had begun boiling over into yet another bonus content about the freakshow that was her youth—this time, it were the words “mushroom cream” and “translucent” that triggered it. 

Chugging down the white wine which was meant for the risotto straight from the bottle, you came to a conclusion that this feast wasn’t worth brandishing whatever mental vision board you had of your mom with a dark taint just because she was menopausing. 

“Mom, I think I got it from here, I’ll call you later. Bye!” 

The aftertaste of the wine felt rancid in your mouth when you gulped down, doing an audit of your current position from the corner of the kitchen. Tofu, your assistant accountant, padded down the counter to snuggle next to you, barking at the things you missed. 

“So, we have a dough which might be too watered to be handled into knots and thanks to our friend’s measly ass, we don’t have enough flour to salvage it.”

‘Woof’ Tofu’s tongue darted out low. You had no choice but to nod sincerely at that, Tofu was speaking nothing but the truth.

“And here, I’m pretty sure there’s still a bit of honey coating that pan under all that olive oil.” You point the bottle to the pan sweltering on low heat on the burner. 

Tofu tilted his little head, beady assessing the arena for several seconds before he woofed again—this time, a wisp of white hair fell around his little belly from the vigor of that bark. 

This is what you respected the most about him, Tofu always thought before he spoke. And whenever he did, he was preaching gospel with zero filter. 

“That’s exactly what I thought too, buddy!” You beamed down at him. “You’re right…there’s a reason I was voted ‘Most likely to bounce back dramatically’ in my high school yearbook.”

Tofu stretched his little limbs, then flopped on his belly and rolled side to side before lolling his head into the sink and shutting his eyes off. He couldn’t bear himself to watch you melt another spatula. 

“Babe, I’m home!”

Seokmin’s voice echoed through the apartment like sunshine slipping under the door—leaking with love and too cheerful for someone walking straight into a domestic apocalypse. 

You froze, mid-sauce-stir, eyes wide and face streaked with flour like war paint. Your hands were trembling slightly—whether from the stress, embarrassment, or the sugar rush from a panic cookie you had inhaled ten minutes ago. 

The front door clicked shut. You could hear the distinct jangle of his keys landing in the ceramic bowl by the entryway—the one which the two of you had made together on your fifth date—-the low shuffle of his socks against the hardwood. 

“Where’s my sugarplu—” Seokmin stopped mid-sentence when he entered the kitchen, immediately freezing like he had walked right into the set of some cooking themed horror movie. 

There was no escaping it now. 

You turned around slowly, like some final boss from an old Italian action movie revealing herself as the master orchestrator of all the chaos. 

Face flushed red from the fumes of the pan that you had burnt thrice by this point, eyes rimming red from the sheer intensity of trying not to cry. Your bun was a barely held together tuft of remorse with a single sorry strand of pasta clinging off your claw-clip. The splatter on what remained of your apron resembled the abstract numbers of Giselle from her short lived depressed artist era. 

“Hey…” you gruffed, even the single syllable cracked as your voice deflated into something embarrassing and sheepish.  

Seokmin blinked twice as he took the total carnage—sauce streaked countertops, a cutting board hosting what appeared to be a mix of slimy vegetables and eggshells, a blackened skillet sizzling in the sink and what might have once been garlic fossilized like carbon in a pan which was fuming from every angle. 

The first thing he did was cross the kitchen, making sure not to step over the spoon that still had butter lumped on it, and turn that burner off. 

And then, impossibly sweet and relentlessly sincere, he just tilted his head at you and asked, “Is this…pasta?”

You stared up at him, eyes turning into little pools, “was supposed to be risotto…but then I thought I’d replace the rice with angel hair pasta cause, y’know, fusion is sexy?” 

“You wanted to fuse one Italian dish with another Italian dish?” There wasn’t a single trace of mockery in his voice when Seokmin asked you that. He seemed genuinely curious about the thought process, the ultimate agenda, behind this Michelin starred meltdown under progress was. 

You were tugging at your sleeve, still looking at him with pensive orbs when you mumbled, too innocently for him to not smile, “It was gonna be pastotto…”

A beat. From under his kitchen towel fortress somewhere, Tofu sighed. The overhead light flickered twice, like it was about to lose faith in this conundrum. 

But then it all came back to life when Seokmin began laughing—that full, hearty, golden laughter which invaded your chest like a virus and tugged at your lips too. Leaning back on the kitchen counter, he clutched his stomach like he was physically wounded by your outlandish originality. 

“I wanted to experiment a bit!” you protested, wringing your hands in the air. 

His shoulders couldn’t stop shaking as he struggled to speak without wheezing. “Baby, you should’ve started slow…like saffron, or lemon zest?”

“Fine…” you grumbled, untying your apron, “next time I will just microwave some lame ass plastic shit from trader joe’s.”

“No, no…” He reached out for you, still smiling that big toothy grin, and took your hands in his, “I will rather eat a hundred bowls of pastotto than see you give up like that. But, do you wanna tell me why this sudden interest in julienned onions instead of talking shit about Julienne from chemistry?”

He had pulled you in to stand much closer now, toe-to-toe, which he could feel you wiggling under your fuzzy sleepers like you often did when you were overwhelmed. His palms came up to rest under your jaw, thumbs brushing hearts over your flour dusted cheeks as he kissed the single leaf of parsley plastered on your nose.

“I just wanted to cook for you,” you sighed, your breath settling like morning dew over his stretched fingers. “Cause you loved mom’s cooking so much and I wanted to make something that you’d remember, too. So I asked mom to help me out but Gyu got me these unlabelled ingredients so it delayed and complicated everything—”

“Ugh, that knucklehead, he has dumbbells for brains.” Seokmin frowned, an obviously fake one. “Go on, baby.”

“I asked mom to help me out but then she got weird and I hung up. But then I had to call her again because the pan kept on sizzling and Tofu kept on barking—by the way, I think we need to put our son in therapy after the massacre he just witnessed today.”

Tofu’s astounding bark made you flinch. 

“Nah, he’ll be fine when he goes to college and meets a spiteful husky who will be his free trauma dump bucket.” Your boyfriend shrugged. 

Your hands came up to hold onto his wrists as you sniffled because the odor of the burnt garlic was starting to get to you, you continued your rant. “So I called mom again and then things were looking up for a while until she told me to put the truffle paste in the pan but I was panicking so I dumped in the first black paste I saw only to realize that it was actually vanilla…” 

Seokmin’s fingers twitched around your cheeks.

Only God knows how much he was trying not to laugh…but you standing here in your soft sweater with flour on your face and pasta in your hair, all domesticated and snotty, rambling about the happenings of your day was pulling out the deepest most innocent beams of joy from his chest. 

“Baby, are you saying there’s vanilla in our pastotto?” Seokmin lowered his head down to meet your eye level. 

You could feel his breath on them when you jutted out the wet lips you had been abusing with your teeth and nodded. 

“Fuck, I think I just fell more in love with you…”

Seokmin straightened up, parted his legs to tug you closer and once you were nestled in comfortably, he looped an arm around your waist to pull you up and angled your face with his free palm, kissing you deep. 

The movement of his lips against yours, a gentle symphony, seemed to refill your lungs with all the air that had been lost in your defeated sighs all afternoon.

You placed your palm on his upper thighs as a leverage to stretch on your toes, get closer to him. That attempt of yours made him smile against your lips and thoughtful as ever, he leaned his head lower.

Gentle, warm, delicate…his lips were like a balm on yours which had been bitten, scorched and forced to taste sixteen different variations of the same saline sauce. 

Tofu had survived the unnatural hissing of ginger, the screeching wails of the pasta stuck in the bottom of the pot as you attempted to scrape it with a metal spoon, but these smooching sounds were where he seemed to draw the line. 

His little steps as he left for his room under the stairs were cushioned, thanks to his pudgy paws. But his palpable contempt about this whole thing? Not so much. The poofy white demon pretended to retch when he brushed past your ankle. 

“Swear I hate that guy.” Seokmin muttered as the last wisp of shaggy white disappeared behind the corner. 

“You birthed him.” You smiled, licking his taste off your lips as you began pulling down the zipper of his hoodie. 

Something conked at Seokmin’s temple, a realization perhaps, because all of a sudden he dove into you…giving you that toe curling, mind numbing kiss like he was trying to distract you from something. 

Vain, because you had already caught the neon green peeking from his hoodie. You disentangled your tongue from his invading one at once. 

“Lee Seokmin, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You unzipped his hoodie with a single, smooth flick. 

Underneath it, lo and behold, the bedeviled ‘SUN’S OUT GUNS OUT’ tank top sat snug over his abs. 

Seokmin lips parted, then closed, then puckered, then closed back up. 

“I told you to burn this!” You exclaimed, poking a finger rather too aggressively at his neon clad chest. 

Seokmin cupped your fist in both his palms, featherlight, trying to use those galactic eyes to his advantage.

“Well, technically, you said we should burn it. I never agreed, just nodded aggressively.”

You gawked at him, mouth hanging low. Was he seriously roaming around the campus all day wearing what he called his sentimental piece from some gym cult?

Wordlessly, you wriggled out of his arms and marched down to your bedroom where your real reaction to this paraphernalia was stashed deep inside the closet. Naturally, he followed you.

“Come on, Y/N, this shirt is a legacy.” He argued, trying to reach for your hips as you bent down, searching for something in some drawer, only to be swatted away. 

“A legacy of what?” You looked over your shoulder for just a brief second, “Terrible decisions?” 

Seokmin tugged at the hem of the tank top like enough force would transform it into a tuxedo. “I was wearing this when I bench pressed a hundred pounds for the first time.”

Having gotten hold of what you were looking for, you squinted at him with your arms behind your back, “And I was wearing my duckies in fedora socks when I parallel parked without crying for the first time…do you see me parading around in those?”

You began looking for your phone to do what you wanted to do, only to realize that it was lying on the kitchen counter top. 

Again, you marched back to the kitchen, purposefully. Again, he followed you around, naturally. 

He waited for you, leaning against the island with his hands crossed over chest when you finally grabbed your phone and re-emerged like he had already read, through your very expressive eyes, what was about to come. 

A table tennis bat redecorated and repurposed into a score paddle—like one from those preplanned, trashy dance competition shows. You flashed him the one which said 9🤩❤️ (that was the lowest score on the range) with a womp-womp sound playing on your phone. 

“Really?” Seokmin looked as amused as a cat in a bathtub, “You really borrowed that from Mingyu and his girlfriend?” 

The aforementioned couple once used to do these elaborate fashion shows for each other and had even created these score paddles ranging from ‘9🤩❤️’, ‘10🥵💓’ or ‘10+1 for being so adorable🥰’. 

You had found it awfully cute when she told you about it and begged them to lend it to you since they didn’t use it anymore. 

“You deserve that. In fact,” You flipped the paddle upside down effectively turning the 9 into a 6, “here, the earlier score was too generous.”

“I am about to spank you with that paddle, I hope you’re aware of that.” he deadpanned. 

And just like that, all the air that his sweet little kisses had pumped into you was knocked out of your system with a single sentence uttered by the himbo with toned biceps. 

“I…I would love to see you try.” you gulped, lowering your proud hand back down. 

“Good, now come here.” He unfolded his arms and stretched them out for you. This time, when you walked back in his embrace, he did not hold you like a flower or press you to his heart as his lips brushed against yours reverently. 

No, he gripped your hips as soon as he could and jerked you in with force—not enough to make you stumble, but certainly enough to make you gasp open when his lips crashed down on yours. 

You responded slowly at first, like testing the temperature of something which could be flaming hot. 

Your eyes fluttered shut, little sparks dotting the colorless void behind your lids. But then, he bit your bottom lip and pushed his tongue to glide over yours, transforming those sparks into full blown fireworks. 

Seokmin slanted his mouth against yours, wedging deeper and drawing a muffled yet erotic mewl out of you. His hand was at the base of your neck, stilling your head from escaping any of this steamy force he was applying on your physicality. 

Your fingers slid over his scalp, smooth and thick strands tickling your fingertips. And then, you sharply tugged. Seokmin lost at that, fastening his grip around your spine and smushing you against his hard body until your front was exactly where he wanted it to be—gyrating against his hard on. 

When you parted, both of you were breathless and gone. 

“Feel it?” He raised a questioning brow at you, his eyes hooded opal. “That’s what you do to me…that’s what a single kiss of yours does to me.”

“Seokmin,” the breathiness of your voice against his harsh maneuvers of your hips with his own was a delirious contrast. 

His lips found a shrine to worship in the sensitive expanse of skin under your ear.

Your palms balled into little fists against his shoulders when he began nibbling, licking, sucking and repeating that exact order over and over again. Your lips mumbled incoherent pleas of his name, his body heat blazing against your front, chest to chest. 

Any moment now, the wetness from between your legs would begin soaking down the soft fabric of your pajamas—your underwear was already a done deal. 

He pushed the collar of your sweater to expose your smooth shoulder for him to place a chaste kiss upon before bunching it on both sides and pulling it over your head. 

You were topless and braless underneath. 

Still flushed against you, Seokmin gave you a single shake of his head before licking his lower lip accusingly. 

“I’m not letting that shirt see my tits for long.” One of your arms came up to shield your chest from his tanktop, which for some reason, seemed so cognizant under the bright kitchen lights. 

That single arm preventing him from ogling at your chest was far more efficient than any score paddles or judgements to have him discard that shirt like a burnt out matchstick.

Slow and coy, you removed your hand to return the favour as you cemented your attention on his abs. 

Your gazes danced over each other’s bodies. Though yours shifted, just for a moment, to look at the full moon hanging low right outside the kitchen window and tell her what all you would do to this man, this man who was more gasoline than honey when he was with you. 

By the way, you should shut the window. Even though you lived on the fifth floor of the apartment building, anyone across the street could easily see this sinister waltz if they stood at just the right angle. 

But your senses and shame were practically non-existent. Ash lost in the wind. Salt dissolved in the ocean. Stars buried underneath dawn. 

The only thing that was real was the heartbeat hammering between the hard contours of his chest pressed to yours—skin to skin, flesh to flesh—as he held you off the ground by the back of your thighs to settle you down on the marble island. 

You coiled around him until his hips were sunken between your thighs. Your body rose up off the counter as you tilted your head up, eager to catch every inch of his swollen lips. 

In an arguably much more aware state than you, he used that vulnerable position caught between a slew of heated moments to hook his fingers around the waistband of your panties and sweats and yanking them down together to your knees in one swift motion. 

You whined a little, giving him an unnecessarily hard time to shove them further down by squirming your legs around. 

Seokmin only pulled back a degree, rested his forehead against yours to sigh before he kissed you again, harder. You could almost hear the reprimand. Behave. 

You sucked on his bottom lip, not giving a damn about the drool which had begun dribbling down your chin. Sick and tired of all that you put it through during the day, your body betrayed your desire to play around a little and allowed him to remove your clothes seamlessly. 

Once he had you completely naked for himself, Seokmin’s hungry mouth began feasting at the swell of your breasts. Toying with your perked up buds through rapid flicks, flat strokes and eager bites, it was the fact that your skin there bruised so easily that fascinated him the most. 

Though he soon departed from his handiwork to travel down lower. Leaving patches of blooming skin under a coat of his spit all over your soft torso, he knelt down in front of your knees which were pressed tight on the counter. He placed little kisses all over them—the scar from that one bicycle incident in your childhood, the itchy inflation from when that bug bit you in the quad yesterday, the slight mishap from your waxing appointment last month—all while your fingers remained tracing his hair to the line of his jaw. 

And then…

“Seokmin!” You shouted, almost losing your balance off the counter when he gripped your knees hard, jerked them apart and pulled you forward until your thighs were cushioning his ears—-all in a flash. 

You toppled back, palms landing hard on the marble to stabilize yourself. If that failed you, Seokmin’s cinch around your legs would have saved you from tumbling down the island. 

“Bon appetite.” He smirked at the glistening folds and before the shiver elicited by his breath brushing your wetness could reach your spine, his tongue speared right through your heat. 

Your body convulsed—confused and caught incredibly off guard. He threw an arm over your stomach, holding you down for this torture while you squirmed for mercy, or maybe even a warning. 

But Lee Seokmin didn’t do warnings. 

And he made that evidently clear to you when he abruptly stopped lapping at your folds to capture that explosive bundle of nerves with a grin, sucking it, flicking it.

There was a stream of wetness trickling down from your cunt onto the white marble and you tried clenching to stop making that mess. Your fingers turned white at the edges of the counter. 

Apparently, he didn’t like the fact that your body wasn’t relaxing under his ministrations, and instead was going tauter and tighter. So he toiled harder by dragging your heat closer to his face through your thighs.

Your palms gave away, making you drop back on the counter. Your back lifted up impossibly when he redirected his lips from circling your clit to kissing your gaping hole. And then, you felt it—warm and soft, his tongue slithering past your entrance as his nose nudged against your nub. 

You were a blubbering mess on top of the counter with your back lifted in an impossible curve as you sobbed tearlessly into your palms. 

His fingers trailed around your thighs to settle at the back of them, mortifyingly near your ass. And then, he ripped your legs further apart, like he was tearing open the wrapping off his biggest christmas present. 

So open, so vulnerable. 

Your cunt turned red as he continued eating you out like that—tongue probing against the tightening walls as more and more wetness flooded past it. He would suck it sometimes, and let it flow down to drench your bottom the others. 

He pulled back for a moment to admire his doing by bringing his fingers up to stretch your folds further. You squirmed under his inspection but he rewarded you for it with a searing, open mouthed kiss on your clit and two fingers massaging the velvety walls of your entrance. 

"Good girl..." He exhaled. resting his cheek on your left thigh and watching you hungrily swallow his fingers in your tight heat, "such a good, good girl."

By this point, there was no rhythm or rhyme, just good old fucking. Holding you down as you thrashed around while those longs fingers rammed in and fucked out.

Your hands were clutching his hair like they would clutch the sheets, confused and bewildered about whether to shove him away or pull him closer. So you just held him there and prayed that at least a single bone remained working in your body after he was done with you. 

When he coiled his fingers by just the right degree and tickled that particular spot on your left all while making out with your cunt with his eyes closed, you lost it. 

There was nothing divine or picturesque about the way you orgasmed. It was a release accompanied by an animalistic growl eliciting from your throat—one which only came out when he was toying with you like that. One of your hands was fondling with your breast—lewd and unabashed, while the other kept on yanking at his hair. 

He guided you back down to Earth from your high with reassuring kisses all over your thighs and hips. When he emerged back up, nose and lips drenched with your juices, chest heaving and a sheen of thick gloss smearing his fingers, you fluttered your eyes shut…unbelieving that you could render him in a state like that. 

A kiss should have followed next, but it didn’t. What you heard instead was the sound of him scuffling for something from what remained of the fruit basket you had nearly knocked down the counter. 

You could still feel him hovering above you…what the hell was he doing? So you opened your eyes and, without a moment's delay, wished you had never done that when you saw what you saw. 

Seokmin had plucked out one of the giant strawberries you had brought at the farmer’s market and was about to take a bite of it. The bizarre part? He had smeared what remained of your cum on his fingers around the poor red fruit and was now savoring it like a dessert. 

You gasped when he took that first bite of the succulent fruit which was now drenched with the taste of you. The strawberry was too fresh, too big and too abundantly wet—with its own and your added juices—so when some of that syrup trickled past his lips and dripped down on the valley between your breasts, it was like molten iron dropping beads on your skin. 

“Pervert, freak, sicko!” Each of those insults were landed on his pecs with a weak smack of your fist. 

You would have accused more, scolded him more about this debauched perversion had he not hooked the remaining half of the strawberry between his teeth and fed it to you, mouth to mouth. The entire time, his cowled eyes remained on yours...daring and pleading at the same time.

You chewed slowly, swallowing the sweet fruit with hints of the tanginess, which didn’t belong, curling around it all while his lips lingered over your cheeks in a soft dance. 

“All good?” He asked you, pulling apart and giving you enough space to recover. The support of his hands around your waist as he helped you get up remained there, though. 

“Yes…yes,” you hum, sitting up. 

The air felt too overwhelming and cold without him hogging up your space. You wanted to call him back….needed him to be pressed hard against your chest, feel his sweat mingle with yours and heartbeats thrumming as one. 

But Seokmin was already trying to calm you down. 

He tucked your hair behind your ears to make your blushing face more visible to him. And then, he smiled like he was looking at his most profound dream bat its eyelashes at him, breathing shallow. You wanted to bring your hands up, trace that hard line between his abs, but they remained listless by your sides. The unforgiving labor of the entire day was starting to catch up with you. 

Exhaustion wrapped around you like an impenetrable fog. It was everywhere—weighing down your lids, twitching in your fingertips, pooling around your lower back which crackled even with the slightest of shifts.

But you didn’t want to fail at adhering with your promise to the moon, so you fought back. 

You gathered all the strength you could muster in your humble body and shifted nearer to his body. His hand came down, restricting you right there and then he shook his head, eyes kind and soft. 

“Love, you had a long day…we shouldn’t.”

His fingertips were trailing the faintest of traces all over your arms like he was touching some ancient sculpture of a Goddess in a restricted Roman museum as he cajoled you to relax. 

There was a rose colored sheath between you and the world at that moment which blurred everything else and smothered you with the desire to pleasure him back until there were actual tears brimming under your lashes. 

“No no no…I am fine,” You begged, “Please, can we do it on the floor?”

He chuckled, placing a feathered peck on your forehead.

“Your knees would hurt.” He reasoned. “They were bruised for two days the last time we did it.”

“Then take me to the bed.” You argued. 

Your spirits soared high as he hooked one arm under your knees and the other over your waist to carry you up from the cold slab digging at your curves.

“I am taking you for a bath.” He explained, splashing cold water on your newfound excitement. 

“But I am fine!” Your rebuttal fell flat when you tried craning up your neck to kiss his neck but gave up when you couldn’t find the energy to. Your arms dangling lifeless over his shoulders didn’t help your case either. 

“You smell like scorched ambition.” He stared down steel in your eyes when you puckered your bottom lip out in a pout. 

“Okay so after bath we’ll do it in the shower, right?” You yawned, letting your head laze on his chest, hopeful eyes staring at the curve of his jaw as he smiled. The rhythmic thrumming reverberating from his skin lulled you deeper into the state that every active neuron in your brain was fighting against. 

“Nope.” He stated, leaving no room for further arguments, “After bath, I am ordering takeout and we’re gonna watch some sitcom until you fall asleep.”

“But we have the food I cooked, let’s eat it and then you can fuck me to sleep as a token of gratitude.” 

He gawked at you, grin spreading. “Food? That’s a sentient sauce blob babe.” 

He had settled you down over the toilet seat as he began preparing the bath for you. Half lidded, your irises followed him around as he meticulously poured just the right amount of epsom salts, soap and generous drops of peppermint scented essential oil in the bubbling warmth in the alcove tub. He checked if it was the right temperature by dipping the back of his hand in and once satisfied, he held his hand out for you. 

You got up on your wobbly knees, deciding that you weren’t prolonging this stubborn debate anymore—your body did need some rest. A lot of it, you realized, when your back slumped loose like it had been dragging a block of concrete all day when it hit the divine bath he had drawn.  

His fingers, tranquil and reverent, undid whatever remained of your bun and began massaging shampoo on your scalp—lilies and chamomile, the classic. Seokmin thrummed his fingertips against your temples, like that would make you forget your sinister demand. 

He told another joke about your garlic knots lying burnt and busted in the oven. You faux glared at him even though you found his wordplay amusing. Afterall, you weren’t gonna let him think he could laugh or joke after denying your several requests to dick you down, not on your watch. Like a man who very much wanted to live, he rubbed and caressed all the parts that could have been aching, each stroke a sincere apology.

You smirked when he began working on the kinks in your shoulders. “If you don’t fuck me the first thing tomorrow morning, there’s gonna be a Seokmin shaped hole on the roof.” 

“Noted, chef.” 

a/n: justice for dk's dk! lemme know if we want a part 2? MASTERLIST

[buntanteen]

svt fic recs list <3 - ot13 individual sections - sfw ver.

summary: 13 sfw ot13 (individual member sections) x reader insert fics :)

contains: sfw section contains potential suggestive content, majority is afab!reader

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

❥ clingy with s/o - @babyleostuff

❥ svt with a shy partner - @wooahaes

❥ take your heart for a spin - @orikiys

❥ seventeen when you call them by their name - @emocheol

❥ REFUSING TO HOLD THEIR HAND - @wonuism

❥ kissing s/o - @boosari

❥ svt making your heart flutter - @lovingseventeen

❥ seventeen acting clingy around their s/o - @wheeboo

❥ when seventeen cooks for you - @chugging-antiseptic-dye

❥ svt checking on overworked!reader - @xinganhao

❥ ot13 reacting to you crying about something incredibly dumb - @joshujin

❥ svt reacts to you calling them your ‘current’ boyfriend - @xinganhao

❥ seventeen bf headcanons - @haostea

bun note: HIIII everyoneeee~ so sorry for being away for a while :,) i've been busy and a bit tired. sorry for the lack of commentary and usual structure, but i really wanted to get something out!! i hope y'all enjoy the fics, please give the writers lots of loveeee!! <3 take care of yourselves, eat something yummyyyyy~

[pochaccoups]

things you do that make svt bust quick (nsfw)

seungcheol —; tell him how good he’s doing

he’s a leo male… please stroke his ego.

tell him how you love his cock, how big he is, how it hits so deep inside you. tell him “right there,” and “keep going,” and to do it “just like that.”

stroke his possessive side too. tell him no one else can fuck you like he can, no one else can stretch you out so good, no one else can make you cum like he does. tell him that your pussy is made for him only.

be loud for him. god, he loves hearing you moan. say his name, beg for more, sob, whimper, gasp for him. don’t be shy about it. it’ll only be a matter of time before you butter him up enough to make him cum.

jeonghan —; beg

everyone knows yoon jeonghan likes having people at his mercy. he gets a little unhinged when he has power over someone—so imagine what he gets like when you’re writhing on his cock, gasping his name so sweetly, your eyes glimmering with tears as he fucks you hard.

“what is it, pretty?” he asks, and like the devil he is, he slows the movement of hips, pulling out of you until his tip barely kisses your also weeping hole. it’s torture for him too, to leave the hot, tight haven that is your cunt, but to him it’s worthwhile.

“wanna cum, hannie,” you whimper.

“hm… i don’t know if i should let you yet,” he says, dipping back inside just an inch. years of him being yours means you don’t miss the tiny strain in his voice that betrays his perfectly collected demeanour.

“please, hannie, please, please, please, let me cum. i’ve been so good,” you sob, squeezing your thighs where they rest on his hips.

you watch as a switch flips in his eyes within a millisecond. a grin lights up his face and he shudders, and he’s sliding back inside you, fucking in and out of you harder and faster than before. safe to say it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum after that.

joshua —; make eye contact

his pretty doe eyes make staring into them your favourite thing in the world, and if you asked him his favourite pastime, he’d tell you that it was gazing into your irises.

it’s also his biggest weakness. from the way you’ve got your mouth wrapped around his dick, throat gagging even though you’re only halfway down it, joshua feels his sanity slipping away. his fingers curl into the bedsheets below as he watches you work him, revels in the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his shaft.

when your eyes flick up to meet his he doesn’t stand a chance. not with how glimmering they are, brimming softly with tears, yet swimming with adoration. with worship.

heat washes over his whole body, he’s gasping, and the salty warmth of his release pools on your tongue.

jun —; put his fingers in your mouth

when junhui gets inside you he has a one-track mind. he becomes rapt with pleasure, drunk from the warm squeeze of your pussy around him, focused on nothing but the sensation of you, the sight of you under him, the sound of you in his ears.

the effect you have on him is dangerous, because you’re equally obsessed with him as he is with you, and you’re not afraid to show him.

and you love his hands, he knows you do—knows how you love his slender fingers and their soft touches all over you, inside you. your brain is cloudy, fogged by lust when you take him by his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. your eyes sparkle as your lips wrap around his index finger, your soft tongue swirling around it.

jun’s mouth parts with awe, his eyes growing round. a second later, he stills inside you with a gasp of your name, like he’s praying to you, all the while you’re sucking on his finger like a devil.

hoshi —; scratch him

he’s a little bit of a freak, and a masochist too.

when he’s got you folded in half, hitting all the right spots inside you, you cling to him in every way you can—fingers grabbing at his biceps, his shoulders. one particular stroke of his hips has you squealing.

your nails sink into his skin, crying out his name as you rake them down the toned planes of his back. the second you do, soonyoung is grunting, hips stilling, cock twitching as a sticky warmth suddenly floods your cervix.

the worst part about it is how he always has the stupidest, most shit-eating smug grin on his face when he examines your damage in the bathroom after, and you know that if he could, he would post the selfies he takes in the mirror all over instagram. what’s even worse though? seeing your marks makes him hard again.

wonwoo —; cry

you’re such a sensitive little thing and wonwoo adores you. one orgasm on his fingers and you’re already overstimulated—“but baby, i haven’t even put my cock in you yet,” he’ll coo.

like it’s your fault you have a boyfriend with skilled fingers and a skilled tongue and who knows you inside and out like the back of his hand, who knows where to touch you and how hard and what pace makes you writhe the most.

by the time he does get inside you, you’re gasping and whining and clawing at him, tears springing to your eyes because he’s so big and so deep, but the stretch is so addictive that it’s dizzying. his voice is low and husky as he mutters to you a mixture of teases and praise, calls you his pretty girl and then laughs at sensitive you are, pretends he’s not on the verge of coming from the sound of your choked gasps.

your belly starts to pulse with that familiar heat and by then you’re keening for him, whimpering a mixture of his name and endless pleas as it starts to become too much. your sobs go straight to his cock, and it’s only a matter of time before he reaches his climax, and his gasps of pleasure harmonise with your own cries.

woozi —; pull his hair

he’s been growing his hair out. after all your begging, he finally listened. in a way, though, it’s backfired a little on you, because the longer it gets the more insane you become. and the thing is you never expected him to let it get to his shoulders—and still he doesn’t plan on cutting it. well, good. you would kill him if he did.

when his face is between your legs you’re nothing short of a feral animal—your hips bucking wild against his mouth, your legs trembling on his shoulders, your fingers, of course, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. he makes you whine when he pulls away from your needy, sticky cunt to tsk at you, tells you to cut it out and keep your hands to yourself. (it’s because he’s about to cream his pants).

when he bends you in half beneath him, ruts into you hard and fast and relentless, you need leverage. your hands land on the back of his neck, fingertips grazing at his roots, then one slam of his hips into yours has his cock bumping against the most sensitive spot inside you and your grasping at his hair and crying his name so desperately. no longer can he hold back, strained groans slipping past his lips as he lets go inside you.

dokyeom —; hold his hand

a sentimental sweetheart, seokmin is an utter romantic who thinks that being inside of you, whether in your mouth or your pussy, is intimacy in its purest form. now imagine showing him just how much more intimate things can get.

he’s losing his mind at the feeling of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, the way you swallow his length down making him see stars. he can’t bare to look at you—he needs to focus on taking deep breaths so that he doesn’t cum straight down your throat. then he feels you grabbing at one of his hands, lacing your fingers together, and no amount of deep breathing can stop him from releasing.

and when he fucks you it’s no different—it’s him in near tears, whimpering your name between incoherent words over and over, and as soon as you take his hand in yours and your fingers wrap around his, there’s nothing else he can do but succumb to his own pleasure.

mingyu —; take control

he’s big and strong; strong enough to put you into whatever position he wants, to make you cum at his command, to do just as he pleases with you.

but that’s exactly why he likes it when you slap him around a little.

you can’t exactly bend him into doggy or use your weight to keep him pinned to the mattress, but you can sit yourself pretty on his cock and ride him teasingly slow. you can tell him he’s not allowed to touch you or you’ll stop moving. you can tell him to kiss you, to go slower, to go harder.

you can sit up and put a hand around his throat, still your hips, and tell him he can fuck you himself if he wants to cum. and he’ll do just that—and as soon as you utter the words, he’s gone, whining out curses as he fills you up in white, warm spurts.

minghao —; whisper in his ear

minghao often tells you how he adores your voice. when you talk to him he’s entranced, and he’s always been more of a listener than a talker, and it’s perfect because you always have so much to say, and minghao will listen to every last word of yours.

your voice—minghao’s kryptonite, his achilles’ heel, his undoing and, oh, the way you moan for him when he’s got you on his cock is enough to make his heart stop beating. the perverted part of him wishes he could record you, hide the file away on his phone and listen to you when he’s overseas and he can’t call you. maybe he’ll ask you about that, if he can find the courage.

the final blow is when you’re getting close. you lean in, right next to his ear, so close that your breath sends shivers along his skin. “please, hao, i’m so close,” you whisper, yet you still sound so desperate and depraved. “you are too, right? cum for me, please. i’ll cum for you too.”

so he does just that—minghao gives in and lets his orgasm wash over him, fingertips drawing circles on your clit until mere moments later he hears the sound of your own cresting pleasure and he feels himself getting hard again.

seungkwan —; wrap your legs around him

it’s a fact that seungkwan loves to be close to you. if he could, he would crawl inside of your skin and live in your heart. but since he can’t, constant physical touch is the next best thing.

he likes to think he has relatively good self-control…most of the time. like when he’s buried to the hilt inside you, he’s incredible at keeping in rhythm, fucking into you at the most perfect pace for both you and him, hitting the spot that makes your back arch off the bed.

somehow he never sees it coming—when your arms are snaked around his neck and you’re holding onto him for dear life as he takes you to heaven, and your legs wrap around his waist so that you can pull him in impossibly deep. then you bring his face to yours, and you have the most irresistible little pout on your face when you make your request. “cum inside me, seungkwannie?”

and it’s not like he has much choice with the way you’ve trapped him inside of you, but that’s the very reason why the next second he’s pumping you full, because when it’s you, how is he supposed to have any self-control?

vernon —; touch yourself

it’s not like vernon can last long in general. he thinks you’re the hottest thing alive and he’s so enamoured with you that it’s too much for him sometimes, but you best believe he’ll put his all into holding out just for you.

there are times, however, where he’s just a man. and what’s a man to do when he has a goddess riding his dick? when your tits look so pretty, bouncing in his face, when you have that fucked out look in your eyes, when you feel like heaven and hell all at once?

and what the fuck is a man to do when your hand drifts down between your legs, to your aching clit, and your fingers start to rub it in circles, or when your other hand grasps one of your tits and tugs at one of your own nipples? and your sweet pussy clenches around him so tight when you do, clamps down on him in an hot, wet embrace, so what else can he do but cum?

dino —; say ‘i love you’

another sweet, sentimental boy. lee chan is head over heels for you, enamoured, obsessed, smitten, infatuated with you… the list of things he is around you is endless.

it shows in the way he fucks you—always takes his time with you, never rushes taking you apart. every touch of his is intentional, meant to set you both ablaze. when he eats you out to prep you for his cock, he has to try not to cum in his pants from how pretty you are.

where he really doesn’t stand a chance however is when he’s bottomed out inside you, as close as he can possibly be with you—so close you’re practically one. the sweetest sounds fall from your lips, spurring on his expert thrusts.

his forehead is plastered to yours, the pair of you revelling in one another’s sweat and gasps for air. “i love you,” you confess gently, and chan falls over the edge of pleasure not a moment later.

[seokminfilm]

favorite / lee seokmin

⭐ pairing lee seokmin x reader warnings non-idol au, fluff, established relationship, kinda suggestive, mentions of being undressed, boyfriend seokmin, kissing for DAYSSS, skinship (reader sits in seokmin's lap), LOTS of soft romantic tension, one mention of seungkwan, pet names: seok (seokmin's), lovie (reader's), suggestive to marshmallow fluff in seconds summary in which seokmin's eyes unravel you faster than his words do. lyr's notes can you tell seokmin's shower selfie ig story update ruined me... now playing favorite (vampire) / nct 127 word count 528 written for @kstrucknet

lee seokmin was the sweetest, most innocent boyfriend you think you could ever ask for.

he knew all the right things to say and what time to say them, and couldn't help but be a shining example of a perfect boyfriend. his caramel-brown eyes sparkled with adoration for you no matter what time of day it was, and his hands were careful with your body as he loved you day after day.

that's why moments like these always surprised you.

seungkwan said that the two of you sometimes undressed each other with your eyes, to which seokmin laughed and you flushed a deep red at. seokmin had played it cool, saying that he preferred to undress you with his actual hands (which made the whole conversation ten times more unbearable to sit through without kissing seokmin silly).

now, though, anyone could see what seungkwan meant.

now, seokmin was staring at you as if he could imagine what was underneath that oversized hoodie of his. his eyes were as sharp as a jaguar's, stare piercing he watched you walk over to the couch.

it made your skin prickle, seeing seokmin's usual soft stare replaced with one more predatory—as if he'd take you from where you stand and show you how much he loved who you were.

"what?" you question with a stunned look on your face. seokmin faintly smiles, dark eyes still glued to your figure as he shakes his head once. "nothing, lovie. you just look so pretty in my hoodie."

that causes a laugh to spill out of you, to which seokmin's eyes soften just a little bit. "pretty? seok, i just got out from the shower. i look like a wet dog."

"my wet dog," seokmin pats his thigh, and you giggle, making your way over to where he sits before sliding into his lap like its second nature. you smell like seokmin, and it drives him crazy, being able to smell himself on you.

"and you smell like my cologne too? you're out to ruin me," seokmin groans dramatically, sharp nose tickling your neck as he nips at your collarbone. warmth spreads throughout your body faster than you can react, and you're sure seokmin can feel it, because he's pulling away to look at your eyes just seconds later.

"maybe i am." you reply, matching the teasing fire in seokmin's tone. the look in his eyes never changes, and he runs his thumbs over your cheeks, cupping your face in his hands as he whispers a soft, tender "god, i love you."

"you're my favorite, you know that? there's no one else i'd rather do this with." seokmin's flirtatious tone softens for a second, stone gaze softening as his hands flutter over your body. his nose is pressed to yours, and his eyes close as he lets out a small exhale.

"me too, seok. there's no one else's lap i'd sit in with sopping wet hair other than you." you chuckle, and seokmin giggles happily, smiling as you peck his lips one more time before he lets out a soft, tender "seriously, though...i love you."

and in that moment, you know he truly does.

[sailorsoons]

𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

PAIRING: F. Reader x Seungcheol x Jeonghan x Soonyoung x Seokmin x Vernon x Chan

SUMMARY: When the Divine’s cult conquers your home, they don't expect you to survive, let alone fight back. Captured but not broken, you and the unlikeliest of allies are ready to burn it all down.

TOTAL WC: TBD

AU: Romantic Fantasy, Werewolves, Omegaverse Dynamics, Polyamourous

GENRE: Smut, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Romance

SERIES WARNINGS: This series includes themes of war, capture, fantasy violence, sexual content, explicit language, and the risks that come with organized power structures. Readers should expect depictions of blood, mild torture, imprisonment, and life under the rule of a harsh dictator. While graphic violence is not extreme, there are battles, action scenes, and moments that show the main character’s experience in captivity. Each chapter will have specific warnings. This is not a dark romance and the darker scenes do not have to do with the reader and the multiple love interests featured in this story or the reader’s relationship with any of the love interests. THIS FIC IS POLYAMOROUS WITH ALL CHARACTERS MEANING BOYS KISS BOYS SOMETIMES. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT, THIS ISN'T FOR YOU :)

A/N: This has been an insane hyperfixation for me the last few weeks. It was originally an idea I kicked around with @daechwitatamic who simply wanted a werewolves/omegaverse PWP and then I said what if I introduce the dangerous of cult activity and made it angsty. I hope you enjoy this as much as I have writing it. It also occurred to me while writing this author's note that this fic is reader x my bias line but you know what I'm not apologizing :)

A/N 2: Each chapter will preface which members are included/are the main focus of the chapter. Each chapter also has alt. banners because I thought it would be fun.

MAIN M. LIST | PLAYLIST | SERIES TAG LIST | ASK

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰

𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔯… 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔧𝔲𝔩𝔶 11

[bangtanintotheroom]

On the Nose (M)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 2.5k

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Look, all I'm going to say is that my thing for noses flares up whenever I look at DK and that was the inspo for this drabble. So sit and enjoy AJ's unhinged mind 🤪✨ thanks again to @wooahaeproductions for being an awesome beta! 💖

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

His explanation gave you some clarity now, but were they really thinking negative thoughts about it? You couldn’t understand why the poor guy was so concerned about his nose all of a sudden. To you, it was one of his best features.

Yes, he had a blinding smile. Yes, you would kill to have his cheekbones. Yes, he was just a handsome guy in general.

But having a dignified and regal nose increased his looks by at least fifty percent (if you were being modest).

It just suited him so well that you couldn’t picture him with anything more basic or minuscule. Anything less pointy and upright would not fit Lee Seokmin.

“Seokmin, maybe they were looking because they like it.”

Your friend turned away from the mirror to study you with interest.

“You think so?”

You gazed up at him confidently.

“I know so.”

“But don’t people usually prefer smaller noses?”

A scoff left before you explained, “Fuck what beauty standards say, I think big noses are one of the best things anyone could have. Think about it. When people get plastic surgery, they can only go smaller, not bigger, right?”

”Right…”

“So it’s something that’s natural and only special people are blessed with! Like yourself!”

Your reassurance was paired with a tap to said special feature, pulling a bright grin from Seokmin.

“Y/N, you know just how to cheer me up, don’t you?”

“Of course, dummy. That’s what friends are for!”

The both of you giggled, the atmosphere lighter than before due to your affirmations. It felt good to ease his worries, but as you laughed, one last fact came to your brain.

It wasn’t as innocent as the previous ones, but it was a truth for you. One you had personal experience with on more than one occasion.

“Seokmin.”

“Hm?”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin’s dark brown eyes watched you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You looked up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

All he could do was gape at you like a fish, stunned that you were revealing such an intimate secret about yourself.

Now, you were used to Seokmin’s dramatic reactions to mundane or extreme situations, but he usually did it out of fun. Yet something about the way his eyes darted all over your face told you that it was genuine astonishment he gave.

Which led to you challenging, “What, you’ve never had anyone sit on your face before?”

“No!”

Huh. Shocker.

“Really?”

His frantic nod only made your brows raise in wonder. It was a shame that this man had never been privy to the act. God strategically placed his nose at such an angle to reach crevices deep within women and it was being wasted for everything else but that.

An idea began brewing in you, wanting to convince him that he was missing out on something fun.

Licking your lips, you cocked your head to the side and let your suggestion out.

“Wanna try?”

Seokmin became too stunned to speak. All he could do was sputter at your offer.

“I— Y/N, you—!”

“Seokmin, I’m serious. It’s an experience.”

The way you grinned slyly was akin to suggesting your friend cut class with you, not let you use his face as a grinding pad.

“How am I going to convince you if you won’t let me sit on your face?”

Seokmin’s ajar mouth finally shut, jaw clenched as he looked you over from head to toe, gauging the seriousness of your offer. He saw little deceit and seemed to relax a bit.

“Y/N…would you really do that?”

You nodded.

“If it’ll make you feel better about your nose, absolutely. You’re welcome to say no if you don’t want to, though.”

The other pulled in his lower lip as he mulled over his answer. You were middle of the road right now. If he said no, you would take no offense and carry on like nothing happened. But if he said yes…

“Then…let’s try it.”

Oh. Neat!

Smiling in triumph, you held your arm out towards the bed.

“Go get comfortable.”

Seokmin’s lips quirked lightly at your instructions, walking over to lie on his back in the middle of the mattress. His head lifted to peer at you with query.

“Is this a good position?”

“Perfect. You’re a beginner, so it’s best if you stay completely flat.”

Humming at your reasoning, his eyes widened when your hands reached for your bottoms, undoing them as if you were undressing at the end of a long day. You saw him visibly swallow when your pants pooled around your ankles. But then he clutched the sheets when your fingers crept under the elastic of your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Seokmin tried his best to look less petrified as you looked up after stepping out of your clothes and walked over. Climbing onto the bed, you kneeled next to his torso, raising a brow down at him.

“Ready for me?”

An audible gulp came from your friend before he nodded quickly. With a sigh, you eased, “I’m not gonna suffocate you. Relax.”

The reminder seemed to lessen his nerves as he laid back again, giving you a jerk of his chin. The invitation prompted you to straddle his chest and keep an eye on his facial expression, only to catch him staring between your legs.

“What?”

Seokmin’s cheeks reddened before he shook his head quickly. “N-Nothing. So how does this go?”

“Literally just eat me out like you would with any other girl. But throw your nose into the mix.”

“Like, nudge you with it?”

“Mhm. Just follow your instincts, there’s not much wrong you can do with it.”

The man underneath you nodded before taking in a deep breath. As soon as he motioned you to scoot up with his eyes, you moved forward to hover over his lips. Trusting your core to keep you balanced, you let out your own held breath.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Seokmin gave a thumbs up, waiting until you lowered down so your folds were a whisper away from his mouth. He leaned up to brush his lips against them, the light touch making your spine straighten. It felt as if he was testing the waters, wanting to see just how sensitive you were. But he didn’t wait long to up the pressure, pulling the quietest of gasps out.

“Better?”

You would’ve giggled at the way his voice came out somewhat muffled if it wasn’t for the warmth starting to build in your gut.

“Yeah. Just do what you usually do, ‘Min.”

“Let me know if I have to switch it up.”

He returned to work, bringing his tongue into the mix to trace up and down. A louder noise came from your mouth at the thorough sensation, eyes fluttering. The question of whether Lee Seokmin was good at oral never crossed your mind, but now the answer was going to remain cemented in there.

Especially when the appendage sunk in between to run up and down your entrance.

“Oh shit—”

You were too distracted to see Seokmin’s eyes crinkle at your low moan, continuing the action to be rewarded with more. But after a while of this, you remembered the main reason why this was even happening in the first place. Swallowing a sound, you croaked out, “Seokmin.”

“Mm?”

“Your nose—”

The reminder had him make what you imagined was a noise of realization. And just like you wanted, the end of something soft yet sharp nudged your swollen clit.

“Ah— There you go.”

You gave encouragement, hoping it would push your friend to use his God-given gift to the fullest. It took some time, but Seokmin nuzzled the bud harder while simultaneously working his tongue below. Your warmth expanded into a tingling heat that traveled up and down your spine and into your fingers and toes, soft pants beginning to fall from your agape mouth.

You weren’t sure how long he had been at it, but you began to feel the telltale signs of a climax approaching. Not wanting to throw him off his game, you bit your tongue and allowed yourself to continue enjoying this experience of Seokmin learning the benefits of having a perfectly sculpted nose.

As the throes of ecstasy began to wash over your body, you hoped that he would carry this lesson through the rest of his life to treat any lucky girl.

Panting softly as you came down, the attention between your legs paused for a bit. But just as you were about to climb off and congratulate your friend for a job well done, the motions started up again, forcing you to gasp in sensitivity.

“’Min, what are you—”

A harsh bump to your still throbbing clit interrupted your query and a poke to your twitching cunt silenced you completely. All you could do was sit above Seokmin in utter shock as he continued to please you with his mouth.

Your complete surprise melted the further he went, brain shutting down to simply enjoy what he was giving you. At one point, you felt vibrations and started to hear something akin to mumbling from between your legs.

“Huh?”

The vibrations went on, but you still couldn’t make out what was being said.

“Seokmin, I can’t hear you, stop for a second.”

What might have been a groan sounded against your slick folds before Seokmin pulled back to husk out, “Sit on my tongue.”

Your mouth dropped, stunned at the request and the way he stuck out said muscle between his slick-coated lips.

But your hips went on autopilot and moved forward to grant him his wish. As soon as you sat down, the desire to use his tongue as a grinding pad came over. It seemed to be a wise choice as you could feel the strongest vibration so far against your pussy.

Seokmin surprised you again when one of his hands moved from the bed to rest on your waist before sliding over and up your torso. It seemed to be on autopilot as it aimed to touch your covered breast, only stopping short just as his fingertips were about to brush the bottom curve. Clicking your tongue at his unwanted hesitation, you covered his palm with your own and brought it to its intended destination.

“Don’t hold back.”

As soon as you let go, Seokmin took your command and ran to the bank with it. Long fingers groped and massaged at the mound, making your back arch in enjoyment. Enjoyment that pushed you higher and higher to another precipice, faster than before. While you trembled above your friend, you couldn’t believe that he kept this up. You figured that once would be enough to prove your point, but he just would not stop.

He continued even after you came for the second time, giving everything he had. You could feel yourself hurtling towards a third orgasm as Seokmin wouldn’t let you be. But when the tip of his nose felt too pointy and the flat of his tongue too rough for your sensitive folds, you decided to put an end to the experience.

“S-Stop—“

Pointless. He just kept going.

Stifling a whimper of discomfort, you were forced to reach down and pull at his dark brown locks.

“Christ, Seokmin, stop!”

Finally, your prayers were heard. Seokmin winced at your tug and removed his mouth from you to gape incredulously.

“Yah, why’d you stop me?”

You ignored the unusually titillating rasp of his voice to scowl down.

“I think you proved my point…too many times!”

Your emphasis was supported with a flick to his wet nose.

“You trying to kill me?!”

“No! I just got caught up in the moment! I’m sorry.”

The genuine remorse in his explanation made you relax a bit, soothing his scalp with a gentle ruffle of his hair.

“It’s alright, ‘Min. You did good…too good.”

As expected, Seokmin’s smile outshone the sun itself, thanks to your praise.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

Returning the grin, you realized that you should give your friend some breathing room and climbed off to lay next to him, a tingle still present in your toes.

“So what have we learned today?”

Seokmin puckered his lips as he looked up in thought.

“I learned that my nose is big, but there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Um…that I can use it when I’m eating someone out.”

Your lips tilted.

“Go on.”

A melodic hum came as he continued to rack his brain.

“Mm…oh! How could I forget the most important one?”

You watched as his head turned to fixate you with a sweet grin.

“If I’m ever feeling insecure about anything, I can come to you for help.”

His answer made you smile wide, heart warming at how at ease he seemed to be now. Granted, you never expected to sit on his face, but if it made him feel better, you’d do it a hundred times over.

“Anything for you, ‘Min.”

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[chugging-antiseptic-dye]

seventeen with a crocheter! so 🧶:

a/n: for @lovetaroandtaemin, my favourite crocheter and someone who always indulges all my ramblings 💕

[sillyuin]

Seokmin as boyfriend

Genre: fluff, fluff, fluff.

Pairing: Dokyeom x reader.

Warnings: no proofread.

Yuin's note: Wake up bby gurl, Yuin just had another of her delulu dreams with Seokmin, and wrote something about it (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

Bf! Seokmin, who has had a crush on you since day one. He was so delighted talking to you that he lost the track of time, but it was worth it.

Bf! Seokmin, who is always the happiest when he's around you, smiling so bright as the sun because "dating you feels like hitting the jackpot".

Bf! Seokmin, who laughs with you when you're happy, and cries with you when you're sad. His arms are always open to you no matter what, his hugs have just become one of the safest places in the world.

Bf! Seokmin, who loves music and making playlists has become a love language. "I made this thinking about you, I hope this makes your day a little brighter!"

Bf! Seokmin, who likes to give you a lot of kisses! Not only your lips but all your face, and his personal favourite is your cheeks: nothing can stop him from kissing your cheeks until you both start blushing and giggling like lovestruck high schoolers.

Bf! Seokmin, who enjoys learning about you, from your favorite meal or dessert, to the deepest things like your vision of life and those things you'd tell to no one. Sometimes you feel like he gets bored by such dense topics, but he's actually fascinated by how beautiful is your heart.

Bf! Seokmin, who never loses a chance to tell you the prettiest words in the universe and prove you that he means it. After all, you make his world a little prettier every single day.

[cherrynpink]

just "friends"

pairing: situationship!dokyeom x f!reader

genre: situationship to lovers, slight angst, smut (with a bit of plot) MDNI!

warnings: cursing, oc is a bit mean to him in the start but it's ok, soft dom!dk, jealous oc, fingering, oral (f. receiving), mentions of giving head, multiple orgasms, a bit of overstimulation, down bad dk, needy oc, praise, ass smacking, protected sex but oc doesn't want to use a condom initially, hair pulling, mentions of creampie (wrap it before u tap it), doggy style, mention of hair pulling, big dick!dk, he is literally too big, slight strength kink, he is an idiot, dirty talk, lmk if i missed anything!

w.c.: 4.2k

playlist: just "friends"

for more of my work, check out my masterlist!

Note: aaah this is the first fic i'm writing on here so pls bear with me. if u find any mistakes, pls lmk! this was loosely inspired from the situationship i was in last year, except mine didn't end well unlike oc's. hope u like it n pls give me wtv feedback u feel so that i get better at this! hehe anyways go on

also u can comment or message me if u wanna be added to my taglist!

dokyeomie:3 : are u mad at me???

Your phone buzzes. It's 2 a.m. and your phone buzzes. You know there is only one person whose texts you would receive this time at night. You didn’t want to ignore dokyeom, you really do like him after all. You’ve been in, what you would call- a situationship? You’re not very sure. You met him through you mutual friends during a trip you all went to together. It’s funny how during your first year you never noticed him in campus despite him being in the same year as you, but as soon as you returned from the trip, he was everywhere. It was like a dokyeom plague all around.

Initially, you weren’t interested in him beyond being friends but fuck- how can a guy be this sweet? And this nice? And this hot. You can’t blame a girl for wanting more. When he texted you first right after returning from the trip asking for the pictures you had taken, you knew this was your chance to lock it DOWN. Only a fool would miss a chance to let a guy like him pass by. After that it was nonstop texting. All day. 24/7. Point of no return.

You’d give him random updates of your day, he would call you when he went to Sephora with his sister and ask which lip gloss you wanted to feed your manic lip gloss obsession, he would send you pictures of cats he saw on campus and say “us”, coffee dates, study dates (even though you had different majors), teaching him to play DTI at 3 a.m. while you laughed at him dates, but not an official “date” yet. Not a label beyond “friends” yet.

You wondered how can two people do all this and still be called friends. This is not what friends do, right? Or is it? Fuck- this is ruining you. It didn’t help seeing him get coffee with some other girl from his class while she laughed like he was the funniest guy ever. And like he probably was. But she’s not allowed to laugh. Only you. He does NOT need to be this funny with some other girl when he hasn’t even labelled what you are yet.

Leading you to ghosting him for the past 2 days. And trust, it was truly torture. How do you suddenly stop talking to the person you’ve shared everything about you to for the past 3 months? Everything reminded you of him no matter where you went. This is the most down bad you’ve ever been for a MAN. Your prime man hater era would be ashamed.

dokyeomie:3 : im really worried, im coming over, okay? I’m almost there >.< bringing some ice cream too!!! i know ur not asleep yet so pls let’s just talk okay :)

You hear your bell ring and thank god for the fact your roommate was at her parents’ place this weekend- well, not like anything’s going to happen anyway, what would it matter. He didn’t even give you time to change as you open the door in your short pyjama set, and what do you see but crinkly eyed dokyeom with his heart smile which almost makes you want to forget the hell he’s put you through the past 3 months and just kiss him.

“Hi” he says, coming in and setting the ice cream on the table, “let’s eat now before it melts.”

“I don’t feel like eating right now.” You take the plastic bag from his hands and put it in the freezer.

He steps closer to you, and closer, and closer, until there doesn’t seem to be any distance between you and you feel your surroundings closing in, as he towers over you, his sandalwood musk encapsulating you making your heart race, your breath turning erratic and your cheeks a crimson shade like a blushing bride. It truly is so easy for him.

He tucks your hair behind your ear- “y/n what happened, are you mad at me? Whatever it is you can tell me. Just please, talk to me.”

“I was just busy, it’s really nothing. Anyway, you had that girl from your class to keep you from getting bored.”

“Is that what this is about? I got assigned a project with her so we grabbed coffee to discuss how to go about it, it wasn’t anything more I swear.”

“That’s not it.” You turn your face away and head to the couch. Talking about what you feel has always been harder for you, which is why you’ve never had any proper relationships- only casual no strings attached arrangements or situationships.

“What is it then? Please y/n, you can’t just go radio silent for two days. I was so worried about you, talk to me, okay?” he says as he sits beside you on the couch.

“You never asked me out.” You blurt it out so fast its barely comprehensible to him.

“What?”

“You never asked me out. You flirt with me all the time, we text literally all day, and when we don’t its because we’re together at the coffee shop or the library or whatever. My friends call me an idiot, that you’re just toying with me, until you’re bored with me. You’ve never even defined what we are yet, because we sure as hell aren’t friends. Friends don’t act like this- right dokyeomie?”

You looked up to him, doe eyed on the brink of tears as you felt a lump in your throat, a heaviness on your shoulders. He felt horrible.

How was he supposed to know you liked him? He just thought you were being really friendly with him- just like you would be with anyone else, right? Here he was thinking he was the idiot being so hopelessly obsessed with you. He was literally so down bad for you it was kind of pathetic. Once when you had just started talking to him you mentioned you liked glasses, low and behold, he wore glasses every time you saw him. You can’t find the lip gloss you want anywhere? He’s dragging his poor sister with him to every makeup store in the city, trying to find that goddamn lip gloss that seems to be sold out everywhere. And now he feels like shit for making you think that he would just lead you on and leave you when he’s tired of you or something. Fuck. He’s messed up BIG time. And he does the only thing he can think of to make it up to you, FAST.

He leans into you, one hand gripping your jaw while the other brushes against your waist, his face so close you can feel his breathe as your eyes flicker down to his lips as he wets them. Your breath hitches and he can practically hear his heart racing the speed of a bullet train. And just like that, the next thing you know, his lips are against yours engulfing you in a whirlwind of a kiss. Your hand reaches for his chest as he holds you. He kisses you softly yet so messy and passionate it sweeps you off your feet. As you deepen your kiss, he slips his tongue in and a soft whimper leaves your throat. Impatient to gain control he pushes against you in an attempt for dominance and his quick shift in demeanor has you flooding in your pajama shorts. Good thing you sleep without your panties on. 

As your make out session continues to grow more aggressive, you feel him manhandle you over his lap onto his hardening length. Fuck. He feels big, you think as your hips give an experimental grind. He seems impatient as you make out, like he’s trying to make up for the lost time as he tightens his grip on your waist to get you closer to him, and you’re no different- tugging at the collar of his shirt so desperate to be with him.

“I really like you” he whispers between soft open-mouthed kisses. “I really like you I just wasn’t sure you felt the same about me, I’m sorry for making you wait so long baby, let me make it up to you?”

Oh. Your pussy likes the sound of that. It comes out of his mouth in a whisper, as he tries to catch his breath because you might not see it, but he is doing gymnastics to keep up with you and you’re driving him absolutely crazy. Its actually a little unbelievable for him to be making out with the girl he’s been in love with for the past year. He can feel a wet spot forming on his jeans as you leak onto him through your shorts.

“So needy baby, can feel you getting wet just from kissing a bit. You want it that bad?” he chuckles. God, you must look desperate to him but you need him right now because his hands gripping your thighs and yours in his hair drive you insane.

“You made me wait so so long kyeomie, need you, please. Need you to fuck me.” It leaves your throat like a whine making him twitch under you. You don’t care how desperate your pleas sound, because truth be told its all you’ve been picturing for the past 3 months. His hand makes its way to your tits as he cups them from over your thin top. From where he's sitting, you look pathetic and so pliant under his gaze, even though you’re sitting on him. If he knew you were this into him, he would’ve done this much sooner.

“Fuck, don’t worry baby I’ll take good care of you. Lift your arms for me.” He says as he takes off your top and god, he can’t take his eyes off your tits sitting right in front of him. He kisses down your neck and you just smell so fucking good he doesn't want to stop. He recognizes the scent, that vanilla bakery cupcake scent that always lingers on him after you hang out with him, the one he's just so obsessed with. He takes your hardened nipple into his mouth as his hand plays with the other. You moan softly as dokyeom focuses all his attention on your chest. Nibbling and biting and licking, as you keep grinding your hips on him, feeling him getting harder.

“So pretty baby, so pretty just for me.”

“I- I need- need you dokyeom, please? Please I’ll do whatever- whatever you want. Wanna suck you off. Make you feel good. Can I?” you say as you get down on your knees. And oh, it is a sight for him. Something in your eyes changes, he sees them full of lust and desperation, so drunk. This was new for him. Before this, you would always be so shy around him, or anyone for that matter. Never laughing fully at the suggestive jokes your friends made when you all hung out together, just giving a coy smile. Even when you and dokyeom talked, you never reacted to his advances, innocent or suggestive, never reacted to the innuendoes he made, just avoiding eye contact with him. But this new you, he liked her for sure. He would’ve teased you more, but fuck, some other time.

You unbutton his jeans as your hands flutter impatiently and fumble with his zipper, because you quite literally cannot wait a second more.

“Slow down y/n, wait.”

He groans as he lifts his hips to let you lower his jeans. He’s already half hard in his boxers and oh. You have no idea how he’s ever going to fit inside you. You mouth at his boxers and lick at him through them. But he knows, if he lets you do this, he'll come in your mouth in an instant, and he is but a gentleman, and would rather die than to not make you cum first.

“Y/n as much as I would love that, I’ll cum in my pants if you do that, and I’m not gonna let that happen.” He says as he tugs you by your hair to get you up. You pout at him, disappointed he won’t let his dick in your mouth.

“Don’t make that face princess, you can do it next time.” he says as he lifts you in his arms. You gasp as he begins to carry you to your room and throws you on your bed as you rebound on it.

“You like that? Like it when I pick you up and throw you around. I see you staring at my arms all the time baby, don’t think you’re subtle.”

He kisses you again as he pins your hands over your head as makes his way down your body, marking you as he goes along. He reaches you thighs and begins to kiss them softly as he drags his tongue to your tiny shorts and begins to pull them down. And imagine his surprise as he comes face to face with your glistening pretty pussy. He sucks his breath in as he seems to be stuck in a trance.

You’re obsessed with the way his eyes follow your cunt. He looks like a child seeing candy for the first time, and you’re totally here for it. His big hands hold your thighs apart as he lays down between them and looks at your pussy like it has the moon and stars hung in it for him.

“No panties y/n? Fuck didn’t know you were a slut baby, you always act so shy and naïve in front of me, no?” he says as his fingers run against your slit experimentally, circling your entrance teasingly, taking you by surprise causing you to let out a desperate moan.

“I’m- I’m not!” you whine but you sound like even you don’t believe your own words. He’s right after all, isn’t he? You are a slut for him. Why would you be ashamed of it.

“You’re not? Then why are you dripping over all your sheets y/n. Haven’t even done anything yet and you’re trying to hump the air. If you needed me that bad could’ve just asked. Would’ve given you everything. But you wanted to give me the silent treatment. So, I’ll have to punish you baby.”

He smirks as one hand tweaks your nipple while the other dips inside you barely before he pulls it out in an instant. He traces soft patterns on your inner thighs, but every time you buck your hips up, he just moves his hand further away from your center.

“Please kyeomie, touch me.”

“I’m already touching you y/n. You need to be more specific.”

This is torture. You’re literally about to cry.

“In- in me. Your hand- your finger, need it in me.” you say with your face in your hand red with embarrassment.

“No please this time? Where are your manners?”

“Please dokyeom, need your fingers in me!"

Finally, he puts you out of your misery. The finger that was teasing you enters you in one instant. And oh. You are so tight. You feel so full, and its just one finger yet. You don’t know how you’re going to take him in.

“Gripping me like crazy y/n fuck, so fucking tight.”

He slowly moves his hand in and out, curling it and watching it squeeze him, barely fitting him in you. You grip the sheets tightly as he curls his finger and hits your g-spot right where you need it.

“You can barely fit one baby, how are you going to take my cock? Maybe I should just eat you out and make you cum on your fingers and leave it at that.” he says mocking you.

He knows he’s being really cruel, but only because you can take it. Also, you did make him wait so long too, so he deserves to have fun with it.

“No! No, I can take it I- I- promise!”

He chuckles and inserts another finger in, increasing the pace until you’re left gasping for air, a moaning mess. He feels your body tensing up, and leans down to kiss your thighs and whilst driving his fingers in you, making you moan his name over and over again like a prayer. Finally, he presses his thumb against your clit, and makes 8 figures over and over again, agonizing you as the pit in your stomach grows bigger every time you feel his fingers hit your spot.

Suddenly he takes his finger out, making you whine at the loss of contact and your eyes fill with tears because you were just so, so close.

He dives in between your legs licking a long strip up your entrance, the moan you let out is music to his ears, and the way you taste is better than anything he’s ever had. His tongue enters you as he pushes it in and out, and oh the way his nose keeps hitting your clit repeatedly with each motion has you seeing stars. You entangle your hand into his hair pushing yourself into his mouth as he moans.

He makes out with your cunt like a man starved as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. And at this point you have no idea about the words coming out of your mouth, a combination of broken moans and desperate pleas. Your legs are trembling as his big hands hold them apart, tightening his grip on them like he’s chasing his own high because you keep trying to close them with every brush of his nose against your clit.

“Please dokyeom, please I- I’m gonna- oh my god, I need to cum!”

“Yeah? Can feel you clenching baby. It’s okay, you’ve been so good, you can cum.”

And that’s all it takes. You feel the pressure in your stomach building up and the knot finally snaps as he hums against you and you break with a loud cry, your back arching and your hands pulling his hair. A euphoric feeling takes over your body as your legs going numb, and your mind in a hazy state with your eyes going dark, your back covered in sweat and your face so hot. There is only pleasure running throughout you but dokyeom doesn’t stop even as your cum covers his mouth dragging his tongue against your core as you come down from your high, until you’re gasping his name like it’s the only thing you remember.

When he looks up, it’s a sight to see; hair all messy, lips glossy, chin dripping with you and a hunger in his eyes like you’ve never seen before. He comes up and captures you in a kiss so deep you taste yourself on him. You never thought a someone eating you out would be this hot, but dokyeom has a way to keep you guessing.

“You’ve made such a mess baby, and you say you’re not a slut. What will I do with you hmm?”

There is something so demeaning about you being completely bare and vulnerable, withering under him, while he stays clothed. It’s like a fucking power trip for him, makes him feel fully in control of you, and oh does that make him so hard. Now that he’s gotten a taste, he doesn’t think he can stop.

“Take off- take- take it off” you say tugging on the collar of his shirt. Even you have no idea what incomprehensible nonsense is coming out of your mouth at this point, you’re just so drunk on him. He sits up taking off shirt and pants and you keep yourself from moaning out loud when you look at him. He looks so big. Not just beneath his boxers but him entirely, he looks so big. He notices your eyes travelling from his chest to his arms, trying to take it all in at once as if you would never have this chance again.

He finally takes off his boxers and you think you’re in love. His dick looks so pretty, his tip a slightly dark shade of pink curved a bit and veiny, you just don’t know how to explain it. He spits on his hand and pumps it in his hand and now that he’s fully hard, you have no idea how he’s going to fit in you.

“Like what you see baby? But your pussy is so tiny, how’s is going to fit?” he says as he brings his hands to your sides, running his hands all over your body. He pouts but you know he’s talking shit to tease you.

You reach up desperate for a kiss but he just kisses your cheek instead, “please, I need you to fuck me so bad kyeom, I can take it! I promise, just give it to me.”

He chuckles darkly, and this is so embarrassing for you but fuck it, who cares. “You beg so well baby, makes me wanna give you everything you ask for.”

He grabs your waist and turns you on your stomach in an instant, raising your hips to meet his, and smacks your ass hard, making you almost jump in surprise. Him manoeuvring you into being on your arms and knees was honestly such a turn on, but you know if you let him know that, you’ll let go of the tiny piece of dignity that you hopefully have left, so you settle for pushing your ass back into him making him groan.

“Condom baby?”

“In my drawer but no! no condom just, want to feel you.” you beg.

Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him. You were going to let him hit raw? Now he truly regrets not doing this earlier, but you’re not thinking clearly and he can’t take the risk no matter how much you make him want to.

“Sorry princess, but we can’t take the risk, some other time, okay?”

You groan, you hate him actually. Who gives us the opportunity to get in raw, you think to yourself as you hand him the condom.

You hear him slide it on and pump himself, “you’re so wet y/n, I might just slide in.” he says as he taps his dick on your clit making you moan. He runs his tip up and down your slit collecting your wetness, and pushes it in just so he's barely stretching you.

“I’ll take it slow okay, I promise.” He says as he grabs you by your hair and pulls you near him to kiss you on your cheek. His hands find home on your hips as he grabs them tightly, pushing himself in one inch at a time, easing you on, making you almost scream. As he bottoms out, he lets out a moan and so do you, feeling so full of him, because oh my god the stretch is like you've never felt before.

“So warm baby, so soft, cunt gripping me so good it doesn’t want me to leave I think.”

“Fuck dokyeom feel so full, I love it, please move.” You say as you beg him for the hundredth time for the night. And apparently that was all he needed to hear as he begins to drill into you sliding in and out mercilessly, slapping your ass every now and then. He fills you so good because its such a tight fit, and god does he love it. You are now left a mess under him, no thoughts in your head, just a chant leaving your mouth as you scream his name over and over.

“It’s that good baby? Or are you just too cockdrunk to think? Fuck, pussy so good it’s gonna milk the fuck outta me.” He moans as he tries to keep up with the unbelievable pace he’s set. His hand moves down your stomach as he toys with your clit from behind, making you see stars.

“You look so good like this y/n, all spread out for me. Makes me want to remember this forever, you’re gonna let me record this ass next time baby?”

All you can do is nod since you have no energy left in you to respond to him.

“Such a pillow princess, can’t even answer a simple question, need me to do all the work for you, hmm? It’s okay though, you don’t have to do anything, just sit pretty for me and I’ll take care of you.”

His grip on your ass tightens and his hand’s movement at your clit fastens as you feel him approaching his high, his strokes getting deeper yet sloppier and you wish he wasn’t wearing a condom so that he could fill you to the brim. At this point he too, like you- was an incoherent mess, because your pussy just feels like heaven to him, and he doesn’t think he can hold out any longer.

“Fuck! I’m so close dokyeom! I- i- fuck right there! Right there! Wanna cum so bad, can I- can I cum? Please, oh!” you scream with all the strength you have left.

“Ah, me too baby, fuck good girl, always such a good girl, asking for permission. You can cum princess, cum for me.”

And that’s all it takes for you to crash into the bed with a loud moan as your arms give out, your pussy clenching around him as he fills the condom. Your chest heaving and a buzzing sound in your ear, you have no idea of your surroundings as dokyeom continues to twitch inside you, finally taking his dick out after what feels like eternity. You whine at the feeling of emptiness, feeling yourself gape due to the lack of him as he crashes besides you out of breath. You turn your face to him as he softly kisses your forehead and wraps his arms around you.

After you both clean up, you lay on your new clean sheets wrapped around him as he caresses your hair.

“I’m sorry I was an idiot for not making it clear I like you sooner, I’ll take you out on a proper date later this week, okay?”

“mhm okay, but just so you know kyeomie, I don’t put out on first dates.”

[mingyuisthevictimofsvt]

Sunshine in Human Form

You weren’t sure how he did it. How he managed to make every moment feel like a warm hug. Maybe it was the way he smiled with his whole face, or how he remembered the tiniest details—like how you liked your sandwiches cut diagonally, or that you always saved the last bite for someone you loved.

“Do you want the strawberry one?” Dokyeom asked, holding up a neatly wrapped sandwich with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You squinted at him, then at the sandwich. “Did you make this yourself?”

He feigned offense, gasping dramatically. “Excuse me! I am a five-star picnic chef, thank you very much.”

You giggled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” he said, leaning closer with that grin that had ruined your heart years ago, “you still hang out with me.”

“You bribed me with food.”

“And sunshine,” he said, pointing to the sky, then to himself. “And me.”

“You’re comparing yourself to the sun now?”

“I am sunshine in human form,” he declared proudly.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile. “You're not wrong.”

He paused, watching you a moment too long for it to be casual. The laughter in his eyes softened into something warmer, quieter. He nudged the sandwich toward you again.

“Only the best for my favorite person.”

Your heart did that annoying flip it always did when he said things like that—casually, like it didn’t make your world tilt.

You took the sandwich and bit into it, savoring the flavor and the feeling of him watching you with contentment.

And as cherry blossom petals drifted around you both like confetti, you thought—maybe sunshine really did have a name. And maybe, just maybe, it was Dokyeom.

[minghaoes]

r: jealousy, jealousy | ot13 smau

pairing: ot13 x gn!reader (individual)

tags: jealous!svt, cheating allegations in jeonghan's (but like;; jokingly), nsfw-ish joke in jeonghans (don't even ask), jokes about dying in dk's and dino's

a/n: first time posting after *checks notes* about six months ?? here's my attempt at an apology: a jealous!seventeen smau one shot with some headcanons to match! don't forget to read the blurbs at the end of the post !! :)

join my taglist here ! | requests for smaus are open !

☆ choi seungcheol: cheol likes to think that he doesn't get jealous easily. he's secure in your relationship, after all. yet, when you're spending the day with one of your friends without replying to his texts as fast as you usually do, he can't help himself but feel a bit skittish at the thought of not having your attention on him - especially on a day off. he'll text you a little bit more than he usually does, updating you on what he's doing, and waiting for you to come back home as soon as you can.

☆ yoon jeonghan: if there's one thing jeonghan knows for sure, it's that you love him just as much as he loves you. there's no reason for him to be jealous in any capacity, but that doesn't mean that he won't pretend that he is. even if you're only leaving him to pick up snacks from the next best convenience store, he'll jokingly accuse you of going to see your secret lover behind his back - despite jeonghan being the one begging you to go out without him.

☆ hong jisoo: joshua is rarely jealous. he prides himself in being able to provide for you, in protecting you, and always making sure that your needs are met first and foremost. he's only ever feeling jealous whenever this sense of security for you comes from someone else instead of him. when he sees someone else offer you their jacket before he can, because he didn't notice right away that you were cold, he feels dejected; he's jealous that he wasn't first in line to assist you in times of need, no matter how trivial they may seem.

☆ wen junhui: jun is only jealous when he's overthinking. he feels a bit posessive of you and he doesn't mind admitting it when the situation allows it. when both of you decide to go out with your friends, jun is hesitant. he's not a fan of overcrowded space; overcrowded spaces with drunk men no less. yet, he doesn't want you to feel like he's holding you back in any way. so he let's you go out on your own, all while keeping an watching eye on you. and when some slightly tipsy guy approaches you, he doesn't interfere; but he cannot help himself and lets his jealousy slip, in the least dramatic way possible.

☆ kwon soonyoung: hoshi isn't jealous, he's only ... slightly territorial. he likes to be near you at all times and he enjoys physical touch a bit more than the average person. when his lips aren't on you, his hands are. he always yearns to be close to you, one way or another, preferably with his head buried in your neck. so when something someone else occupies his spot, he cannot help himself - and his jealous side is the cutest thing you've ever witnessed.

☆ jeon wonwoo: unlike what his mostly calm demeanor may suggest, wonwoo is the opposite of nonchalant. he can be very chalant, in fact, but only ever shows it when he's alone with you. when you're out together, wonwoo tends to be a little shy. he's not a fan of pda, nor does he think it's necessary for the both of you to show your love outright in public. that is, until someone else decides to flirt with you right in front of him. then, he'll do about everything to show the person in front of you that he's yours, even when it ends with you cooing at him.

☆ lee jihoon: similar, woozi doesn't need public affection to show you how much you mean to him. he always invites you out to wherever he's currently at, as quality time is one of his favoured love languages. body doubling while he's at the studio? you don't even have to ask. spotting each other at the gym? it was his idea. going out to eat together? his keys are already in his hand. so when you're focusing on someone else while he's trying to have his beloved quality time with you, he can't help himself but feel a little cranky in your presence.

☆ lee seokmin: seokmin's jealousy manifests itself openly. if his red ears aren't enough of an indicator, then the way he continuously touches you sure will be. he's gentle in his ways, his fingertips will barely graze the top of your thighs while you're focusing your attention elsewhere. he's almost shy in his affections, since he doesn't quite know yet how to approach this topic with you. he'll look at you with big eyes and a small pout on his lips, until your attention turns back to him for a brief moment. and he feels his face warm up even more.

☆ kim mingyu: mingyu might as well be named the most jealous seventeen member. don't misunderstand - like the others, he is very well aware of your affections for him. yet, this doesn't mean he's ready to willingly share you with anyone else, no matter who it is. he's a bit selfish in this way. and he loves you cooing over him too much to really feel too embarrassed to have been caught jealous. no matter who it is. (only maybe a little bit when you see him sideeye you cooing over his baby newphew instead of him.)

☆ xu minghao: minghao's jealous side is quiet. he doesn't like being jealous, because he logically speaking knows that there's nothing to be jealous of. he knows that you're just as devoted to him as he is to you. but it doesn't mean that his head is always where his heart is. whenever he can feel the little green monster rise inside his chest, he turns away from you. he needs to take a step to collect himself and his feelings, and you're with him to ease every last little worry he might has.

☆ boo seungkwan: seungkwan's jealousy manifests itself in a less ... gentle way. when he's jealous, he's insecure. he knows he's not the most ideal boyfriend one can have, considering his consistenly busy schedule and all, but he knows that he tries his best... usually. all of these rational thoughts leave his head the second he sees someone else talk to you. someone who's a bit taller than him, a bit more mature, a bit more everything he isn't. when seungkwan is jealous, he needs your reassurance and you never hesitate to give it to him.

☆ choi hansol: vernon is rarely ever actually jealous. he knows that there's no reason for him to and he trusts you too much to actually feel threatened by anything or anyone when it comes to your love. he's less jealous and more needy when he feels you slip away from him. when you're spending your days off with someone else instead of him, he can't help but miss you a lot. he's not jealous of the other person (no, really!) he just wants you to focus your attention on him and no one else (maybe a little jealous.)

☆ lee chan: as the youngest member of seventeen, chan is used to having all of the attention on him. he secretely loves being dotted on, loves having your attention on him, too. so when you're not looking after him for once, he can't help but feel a bit more clingy than he usually does. he's not a fan of you taking care of others the same way you do for him - in his mind, it's something that should be reserved for him and him only. he loves how big your heart is and how caring you are. yet, this doesn't stop him from feeling a certain way whenever you shower someone - or something - else with love the same way.

© minghaoes 2025.

[studioeisa]

you deserve each other ⛱️ seokmin x reader.

all is fair in love, war, and... trying to get fired? the waterpark is the last place you and seokmin want to be. in a ditch attempt to escape your job, the two of you opt to break carat bay’s unspoken, cardinal rule: don't date your co-worker.

⛱️ pairing. co-workers seokmin x reader. ⛱️ word count. 12.4k. ⛱️ genres. alternate universe: non-idol, alternate universe: waterpark co-workers. romance, friendship, humor, hint of angst. ⛱️ includes. mentions of food, alcohol; profanity. fake dating and all its shenanigans, sweetheart seokmin, lots of making out (do with that what you will), soonyoung is a plot device, other idols get randomly name dropped as employees. ⛱️ notes. this is part of @camandemstudios’ carat bay collaboration. ever so grateful to be trusted with seok! ‹𝟹 thank you to my ride or die, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, for beta reading. check out the other fics in the collaboration here. 🎵 seokmin’s top tracks this month. sugar, brockhampton. sunny days, wave to earth. get you, daniel caesar ft. kali uchis. heart to heart, mac de marco. m2m, cody jon.

The framed plaque is heavier than you expect.

A small, polished thing. Mahogany edges, gold trim. Your name etched onto a brushed metal plate, capitalized and misspelled. The receptionist claps politely. Someone offers you a slice of cake. Your manager—Changbin—says your name like it’s a blessing, like you’re his biggest win this quarter.

“... a beacon of initiative,” he’s saying, hand on your back, smile radiant and full of teeth. “Always on time, never a complaint, always going above and beyond—”

You stop listening around the word beacon. 

Where joy should be, a horrible kind of dread is crawling up your throat like soda foam. You don’t want this. You never wanted this.

For the last six months, you’ve been orchestrating your own quiet downfall. 

Small acts of rebellion: late reports, mismatched fonts in client decks, turning in spreadsheets without formulas. Once, you deliberately CC’d the wrong contact on an invoice email. Twice. Three times.

Nothing. Not a single reprimand. You’ve only been praised for your ‘out-of-the-box thinking.’

Now here you are. Employee of the Month at Carat Bay—home of hollow branding jargon, ergonomic nightmares, and a break room fridge that smells like egg salad and regret. You’re holding a plaque you prayed someone else would win.

The universe is cruel. Your parents are crueler.

See, Carat Bay is just the latest on your resume’s Greatest Hits of Unwanted Professions. Before this was the summer you spent handing out frozen yogurt samples in a visor that said Lick Me. Before that: barista at a vegan café that also sold crystals. Before that: dog-walking, tutoring, retail at a candle shop that played Meghan Trainor on loop.

Your parents forced each one of them with the same airtight argument: You need discipline. You need direction.

You said you wanted to freelance. Write, maybe. Design book covers. Do something weird and personal and fulfilling. They laughed. Your father nearly choked on his coffee.

But a deal was struck with the Carat Bay gig. If you got laid off, they’d stop pushing. Let you go rogue. No more curated job listings emailed at 5 a.m. No more passive-aggressive forwarded TED Talks. No more, ‘When I was your age, I had a mortgage and two kids.’

If—if—you got laid off. Quitting was not in the cards. It was either that or you stay for at least three years, which you would honestly rather die than do. 

Now, you find that you have this. A plaque. A photo op. Changbin squealing, “This one’s going in the newsletter!”

God, you think, gripping the plaque like it might shatter. You are being rewarded for mediocrity. You are being celebrated for incompetence.

You smile for the camera anyway.

It’s the kind of smile that could get you promoted.

Back at the merchandise stand, your co-worker greets you with a grin and a pair of scissors he’s using to snip zip ties off a crate of branded tote bags.

“Look at you, hotshot,” Seokmin says, nudging you with his elbow. “Changbin’s golden child. I knew you had it in you.”

Your brows furrow. “You’re not mad?”

He scoffs, that beaming smile of his slotting back into place without a moment’s hesitation. “Why would I be mad? This means I don’t have to be Employee of the Month. That plaque is cursed,” he teases good-naturedly. 

You laugh. Genuinely, if only for a second. Seokmin is the kind of person who makes you believe in the good of humanity. 

He once gave his lunch to a crying intern. He always remembers your birthday. He talks to every lost tourist like it’s his job, which technically, it is not. And—in your honest, unbiased opinion—he’s easy on the eyes, too. It takes a lot to make the dreadful polo and even more dreadful khakis work, but Seokmin somehow manages. 

“Seriously,” he continues, turning back to the tote bags, “I’m happy for you. You’ve been working hard. And let’s be honest, you’re the only one who knows how to fix the card reader. Changbin was probably just buying insurance.”

There’s a lightness to his voice. No trace of envy. Just easy, unaffected kindness.

You swallow down the guilt forming like a pit in your stomach. You’ve been quietly planning your own escape route while he’s been showing up every day like a real adult, juggling overtime and night classes. You’re trying to crash and burn and Seokmin—sweet, undeserving Seokmin—might get singed in the crossfire.

You clear your throat. “Thanks, Seokmin. That means a lot.”

He just shrugs. “Don’t let it go to your head, okay? You still owe me lunch for covering your shift last week.”

Seokmin walks away to restock mugs, and you stare after him, plaque still under your arm, feeling like the world’s worst con artist. You don’t want Employee of the Month. You don’t deserve it. 

You know someone who does. 

Lee Seokmin, who brings extra socks to work in case someone forgets theirs. He knows the perfect ratio of syrup to ice in the rainbow slushies. He has an uncanny ability to get toddlers to stop crying with a single balloon animal. 

You’ve seen it all. He’s sunshine in human form, if sunshine occasionally tripped over its own feet and knocked over the popcorn machine.

That’s the thing, though. Seokmin—bumbling, bright-eyed Lee Seokmin—isn’t just your co-worker. He’s the son of the owners. 

The heir of this kitschy little theme park kingdom. The golden boy who is destined to inherit its cotton candy throne and take up the sticky, sunscreen-slicked mantle of summer fun for generations to come.

Carat Bay is practically tattooed on his DNA. The gift shop trinkets, the underwater mascot shows, the overenthusiastic lifeguards. This whole place was designed by his family and built on a business model of manufactured joy, and he was the prince working the merchandise stand to get some good ol’ starting-from-the-bottom experience. 

So when, days later, he startles and blurts, “I swear it’s not what it looks like!”—while clutching an open box cutter and a half-disemboweled box of limited edition light sticks—your first reaction isn’t anger. 

It’s confusion.

You ask, flatly, “What the fuck are you doing?”

He winces. He always winces when you swear. Rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes dart around like he’s searching for an escape hatch. “Okay, I know this looks bad. Like, really bad,” he starts. “But I swear I wasn’t going to, like, ruin them. Just… make them look better?”

Your mouth opens. Closes. And opens again. “But why?” you manage. It’s a good thing the waterpark has already shut down for the day. You’re not sure what you’d do if you had to deal with this with a whole shift ahead of you.

Seokmin sighs. It’s the kind of sigh that carries a decade of summer-themed retail trauma.

You glance over his shoulder to the shimmering banner flapping in the breeze: WELCOME TO CARAT BAY—THE #1 MERCH DESTINATION ON THE COASTLINE! A glittering monstrosity. Just like everything else here.

“I thought you liked it here,” you add, genuinely bewildered. “You do the Carat cheer. You wore the mascot suit that one time. Willingly.”

He shrugs, sheepish. “Well, yeah. But I also want out.”

“You’re the owner’s kid. All this is going to be yours someday.” You gesture vaguely at the cartoon dolphins, the sparkle-laminated shelves, the sea of bubblegum-pink merchandise. 

Seokmin shouldn’t be cutting up product. He should be on some managerial fast-track, drawing up expansion plans in a conference room somewhere. Not ruining stock and looking like he’s going to hurl from the guilt of it.

It happens fast enough for you to almost miss it, but Seokmin’s expression crumbles into  a grimace. Unnatural on a face that usually had a perpetual grin, a catalogue of every positive emotion known to man. “Yeah,” he exhales. “Exactly.” 

It clicks, then. All of it.

The too-frequent mishandling of inventory. The time he tripped and unplugged the entire register system. The day he mistakenly shipped an entire box of glow-in-the-dark keychains to the wrong coast.

You’d chalked it up to Seokmin being Seokmin. Lovable. Mildly chaotic. But now—

“You’ve been trying to get fired,” you say, the truth hitting you like a tsunami on the Wave River.

“Just like you,” Seokmin confirms. The knowledge sends a prickle of panic down your spine, but it fades when he goes on to joke, “Only I suck at it even more than you do.”

You snort. You can’t help it. “Wow. So we’re really the dumbest people here.”

He laughs sheepishly, but it’s the most honest thing you’ve heard in weeks. And when your eyes meet, there’s this quiet understanding that passes between you—like a pact sealed in shared misery and mutual sabotage.

You exhale. “Fine. I won’t rat you out. But you’re going to tell me what it is you actually want to do. Eventually.”

Seokmin grins. It’s that sun-bright, unfiltered expression he wears when he’s about to say something incredibly sincere or incredibly stupid.

“Deal.”

You reach for the disemboweled box. “Let’s make it look like an accident.”

Now you’ve both got a secret. And a goal.

The only thing more dangerous than two people who hate their jobs? Two people who’ve decided to stop pretending otherwise.

--

Except nothing you try works.

You set the air conditioning so low people start confusing your booth for a meat locker. Seokmin deliberately stocks the wrong merchandise on the featured shelves. You both take extended lunch breaks and once, very deliberately, you curse out a mom with three kids after she calls the staff lazy. Seokmin nearly fainted afterward from the adrenaline.

But none of it lands. Your manager pats you both on the back. Customers rave about your booth on Yelp. Kids write thank-you notes in marker.

Next thing you know, a laminated sign appears at the break room. Your name and Seokmin’s, right next to the dreaded Employees of the Month title. 

The photo is horrible. Your smile is tight with disbelief. Seokmin’s peace sign is half a second from cramping.

You two convene in the supply closet. Your emergency meeting room of choice.

“This is bad,” you say, pacing. “This is so, so bad.”

“We could, uh… just keep trying?” Seokmin offers, nibbling the edge of a pen.

“We’ve been trying. We ended up with a plague.” You groan. “We need something bigger. Something bold.”

Your mind whirs. You sift through memory like old receipts in a drawer. Nobody gave a fuck enough about merchandise to cry about its sabotage. Snark was to be somewhat expected from the two of you, and you didn’t really want anything too extreme on your track record. 

How had the past couple of people left Carat Bay? Your fingers tap, tap, tap on the closed closet door. There had been Heeseung, and Soobin—

Bingo.

The recent firings. Not many, but enough to see the pattern.

Heeseung, shortly after he was confirmed to be living with the girl who worked the bodyslide. Soobin, who packed his stuff up when he was found making out with the after-hours lifeguard. 

The ‘rule’ wasn’t written in stone. Not in the employee manual, not mentioned during briefings. But it still existed in a yellowing Post-It taped up on the janky breakroom refrigerator.

DON’T FUCK EACH OTHER.

“Of course,” you whisper. “Of course.”

“What?” Seokmin says, wary.

You turn to him slowly. The smile that breaks on your face only seems to unnerve the boy even more, especially when you go on to declare,  “We fake date.”

A beat. Seokmin blinks at you like you just offered to throw hands with God himself. “Fake date?” he repeats. 

You nod sagely. “It’s bulletproof. Everyone who’s gotten canned the past three months? They were caught hooking up with coworkers. There’s a Post-It in the lounge, remember? ‘DON’T FUCK EACH OTHER.’”

Seokmin opens his mouth, closes it. Then again. It’s like watching a fish try to breathe above water. Finally, he croaks, “No.”

“No?”

“No,” he repeats, slightly firmer now, arms crossing over his chest like that would protect him from you. Which, to be fair, it might have if you weren’t already smirking.

“Wow,” you say, feigning hurt. “That repulsive, huh?”

Seokmin chokes. “Don’t put words into my mouth!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then what am I supposed to take from that, huh? You look like I asked you to run off to Vegas.”

He rubs the back of his neck, visibly flustered. His ears are already pink. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Why? What, you got a secret girlfriend stashed in the plushie bin?”

He groans. “No. That’s not—I just… haven’t.”

“Haven’t what?”

“Dated.”

“You’ve never had bitches?”

“I don’t—women are not bitches,” Seokmin splutters. 

He looks like he might spontaneously combust. You’re half-tempted to poke his cheek, see if steam comes out of his ears. Cute, you muse to yourself, but cute in the same way that a kitten might be if its head was stuck in a tissue box. Not cute in a I-want-this-man way. At least, you don’t think so. 

You lean your elbow on the counter and study him, thoughtful. “I could ask someone else. Soonyoung probably wouldn’t even hesitate,” you note. “But I wanted it to be mutually beneficial.”

Seokmin chews the inside of his cheek. “Mutually beneficial?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, handsome,” you say, deliberately sweet, watching his face redden by the second.

He presses his hands to his cheeks like that’ll stop the heat. “Can I… think about it?”

“Sure. Just don’t think too hard. Might take it personally.” 

He groans again, but you catch the shy little grin he tries to hide as he ducks his head. Victory tastes a lot like Seokmin’s embarrassment—soft and just a little sweet.

Four days and three failed sabotage attempts later, Seokmin finally gets back to you.

You’re in the middle of stacking sun-bleached baseball caps that say CARAT BAY: GOOD VIBES ONLY when he approaches, rubbing the back of his neck like he might apologize for existing.

“So,” he starts, glancing around like he thinks you might have an audience. The only person within 10 feet of you is a kid licking ice cream and glaring at a pigeon. “About the thing. The, uh. Proposal.”

You know where he’s getting at. You just want to hear him say it. “You’ll have to be more specific,” you say breezily. “I proposed several things.”

He goes pink in the ears. Adorable.

“The fake dating thing,” he clarifies, and then fumbles over his next words. “Not that I think dating you would be—I mean, obviously, you’re very—I’m not, like, repulsed or anything—”

“Seokmin.”

“Right. Sorry. Yes. Let’s do it.”

You blink. Then blink again. You had expected him to try and let you down gently, to instead try and rope you into vandalizing the mat racer. Instead, he’s shifting from side to side, laying his heart down on your feet. 

“If you still want to,” Seokmin adds when you’re silent for a beat too long. By some miracle, you resist the urge to coo. 

“Handsome,” you say slowly, grinning as he sputters. “Of course I still want to. What changed your mind?”

He looks down at his shoes, his voice soft. “You said it could be mutually beneficial. And I figured… I want out. You want out. Maybe this is the way.”

Something flickers in your chest. Not pity, exactly. Something warmer.

“Alright,” you say, and you reach over to the counter to hold out your hand to him. 

You lay out the ground rules. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time the past few days doing research of your own—watching contemporary classics like Anyone But You and To All The Boys I Loved Before before scouring the fake dating tag on AO3. 

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” you remind him. “Touch is probably the best way to go about this, but we only have to do that when somebody’s watching. Convincing flirting is the key. The goal is to get caught.” 

You don’t add the cliche of all cliches. No falling in love. Not because you’re hoping for it, no, but because it feels like a given. You like to think you’re smarter than Sydney Sweeney’s Bea and Landa Condor’s Lara Jean. 

Seokmin listens with rapt attention before bobbing his head up and down in a solemn nod. With eyebrows slightly scrunched from concentration, he takes your hand. 

The two of you shake on it. 

--

You and Seokmin agreed to start small. Ease into it. Not make it too obvious. Open flirtation in the break rooms, stolen glances in line for churros, maybe a suggestive comment or two over headset. Nothing too dramatic.

So far, none of it has landed.

You’d told Seokmin to just follow your lead. He was good at that. Always had been. When you reached across the table to oh-so-casually pluck a cherry off his soda float and pop it into your mouth, you expected at least one co-worker to clock it. Instead, Soonyoung kept chattering about the new ice sculpture exhibit, completely unbothered. Joshua just nodded, as if you had simply demonstrated the polite camaraderie of sharing a beverage.

You even tried batting your lashes while Seokmin offered you the last dumpling. He didn’t need to play it up much—just smiled wide, ears going red. Still, all you got from the others was a distracted thanks-for-leaving-some-for-us, not even a wink or a whisper.

You were going to have to double your efforts.

“This is a disaster,” you mutter later that night as you help Seokmin restock souvenir mugs.

He straightens a bit too fast, knocking over a stack of keychains. “I thought it was subtle,” he sniffles, going to pick up the plastic surfboards. 

“Exactly the problem,” you shoot back. “We’re so subtle, it’s like watching two Barbie dolls try to make out without bending at the waist.”

Seokmin’s laugh is loud and unguarded, drawing a look from a passing intern. He ducks his head and waits for her to pass. “Okay. We go bigger. I can do that,” he says, probably trying to convince himself as much as you. “Maybe I could, I dunno, carry you bridal style through the sand sculpture path?”

“Let’s not go zero to K-drama,” you say dryly. “We build up to that. We start with touches. Long looks. Close proximity.”

“You say that like we’re not already touching every five minutes by accident.”

You hand him a mug and let your fingers brush his, lingering. It’s an act, sure, but you’re sure he feels it too. The jolt of electricity. The thrum beneath your skin. Seokmin’s breath hitches, his eyes flitting to where the tips of your fingers had just pressed. 

“That,” you point out. “But on purpose.”

He nods, dazed. “Right. Totally. On purpose.”

If anybody asked, you were building a believable relationship arc.

A couple of days later, you find Seokmin hunched over the merchandise booth counter, the cheap company laptop tilted slightly toward him. He’s got that familiar deep crease between his brows, the one he gets whenever he’s hyper-focused. Usually while trying to fix a jammed ticket printer or master a new drink recipe from the cafe next door.

You lean closer, about to tease him for working too hard, when the wikiHow tab on the screen catches your eye: How to be a good boyfriend: A guide for beginners.

You bite back a smile, heart squeezing painfully at the earnestness of it. Of course he’d look it up. Sweet, ridiculous Seokmin.

“Whatcha doing, handsome?” you ask, voice lilting and teasing.

Seokmin jolts upright so fast he nearly knocks the laptop onto the floor. “I—Nothing! Research! Important work research!”

You snicker, plucking the laptop gently from his grasp and setting it safely aside. “Research, huh? Planning to date the slushie machine or something?”

He groans, covering his face with both hands. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbles, words muffled by his palm. “I'm—I'm trying to be good at this.”

Your chest aches again. Not in an oh-I’m-screwed way, but in the reminder that, once again, Lee Seokmin is too good for this world. Too pure to be roped into your low-budget, romantic-comedy life. 

“Hey,” you say delicately, nudging his arm until he peeks at you between his fingers. “You can just ask me, you know.”

“Ask you?”

You grin. “Yeah. You’re fake-dating me, remember? Free resource right here.”

He drops his hands, staring at you for a moment. It lasts long enough to make you feel seen, which is never good. “You’d really help me?”

“Of course. I’m an excellent fake girlfriend.” You lean in, conspiratorial. “Tip one: You’re already doing great just by caring this much.”

Seokmin's mouth parts slightly, like he wants to protest but can't quite find the words.

“Tip two,” you continue, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “If you ever don’t know what to do, just be honest. It's kind of…” —you soften— “my favorite thing about you.”

He blinks at you, visibly flustered, and you resist the urge to pinch his cheeks.

“Got any other questions, babe?” you tease, but Seokmin only shakes his head and mumbles something about knowing what to do. 

You’re not all too sure about that. Especially as he starts acting pretty weird in the coming days. 

At first, you think it’s just regular old Seokmin nerves. He fumbles during his cash register shifts, stutters when customers ask for directions, and practically leaps out of his skin when you tap his shoulder to pass him a bottle of water.

But then you notice him sneaking glances at you every few minutes. Shifty, fleeting glances. Like he’s hiding something. You catch him half the time, and he immediately goes red, waving you off with a too-high laugh. “Nothing!” he chirps. “Just—! Nothing!”

Suspicious.

During your lunch break, you find him pacing behind the Carat Bay merchandise booth, clutching his phone like it’s a lifeline. When he spots you, he stuffs it into his back pocket and beams so brightly it’s blinding.

“You good, handsome?” you ask, raising a brow.

“Yup!” His voice cracks on the word.

You narrow your eyes but let it go. For now.

It’s when you’re restocking plushies that you notice it: Seokmin, in the distance, accepting—and then panicking over—a large, extravagant bouquet of flowers.

He tries to hold it normally. He really does.

But first, he almost drops it. Then, he sneezes. Loudly. Violently. Three times in a row.

“Are you okay?” You rush over just as he doubles over with another round of sneezes, the bouquet wobbling precariously in his arms.

“I’m—” he gasps between fits, “—fine!” Sneeze. “Fine!” Sneeze.

You take the flowers from him. It’s a stunning collection of pink and white blooms. “Were you… getting me flowers?” you ask dazedly. 

Seokmin nods, eyes watery, nose turning a tragic shade of red.

Your heart lurches. “Seokmin. Are you allergic to flowers?”

“N-No?” He says unconvincingly before another sneeze rattles through him.

You bite down a laugh, the affection nearly overwhelming.

“Oh my God,” you murmur, shoving the bouquet into Joshua’s bewildered arms as he passes by. “You’re literally dying to be my boyfriend.”

Seokmin sniffles pitifully. “Worth it.”

You shake your head, pulling him by the wrist toward the staff lounge. “C’mon, Romeo. Let's find you some allergy meds before you actually keel over.”

Behind you, Joshua calls out “Are these for me?” while holding up the bouquet.

Seokmin sneezes again in response.

--

“We should actually get to know each other,” you say around a mouthful of rice.

Lunch at Carat Bay is a lawless stretch of twenty-five minutes during which the staff gathers in a sun-warped outdoor seating area, and hierarchy momentarily dissolves into lukewarm leftovers and communal fries. You and Seokmin decide this is the perfect place for the two of you to set your scene. 

You sit on the same picnic bench, unnecessarily close to two people who claim to be coworkers. Which is the point, really.

“I thought we were doing okay,” he answers middlingly. 

“You Googled how to be a boyfriend, Seokmin.”

His ears redden. You fight a smile.

“Let’s do this,” you urge, setting your chopsticks down. “Secrets. Weird facts. Stuff you tell someone if you’re… you know. Really dating.”

Seokmin shifts, folding himself smaller as he thinks. “You first,” he says, almost bashfully.

“Fine,” you huff dramatically. “I can’t snap my fingers.”

Seokmin blinks then bursts into laughter, his head tilting back with the force of it. “That’s your big secret?”

“You’d be surprised how often it comes up in life!”

He wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin, still grinning. “Okay, okay. My turn. Uh. I still sleep with a nightlight.”

Your heart squeezes. “That’s cute,” you say, smiling softly.

“It’s dizzying otherwise.” 

“It’s fine,” you say, nudging him. “Better than getting eaten by whatever monster’s under your bed.”

He groans before looking at you with an open, helpless fondness that makes you feel raw. If you were a little smarter, you’d call it off then and there for both of your sake. 

Instead, you go back and forth like that, trading tiny confessions. You tell him about your irrational fear of mannequins. He admits he once tried to drink orange juice after brushing his teeth on a dare and cried. Every admission makes him squirm, makes you giggle, softens the space between you and pulls it tighter.

Seokmin is sweetness, clumsy and earnest and golden. And as he talks, stammering through another story about how he accidentally joined a ballet class in high school thinking it was an improv workshop, you realize: you aren’t acting when you find him impossibly endearing.

You lean your head against his shoulder with a dramatic sigh. “We’re gonna crush this fake dating thing.”

“Yeah?” Seokmin says, wide-eyed but smiling.

“Yeah,” you say, and it’s with a certainty that’s wholly misplaced.

Soon enough, the conversation spins into romantic experiences. When Seokmin asks you about your worst dating experience, you lean in conspiratorially. “There was this one guy who wore socks during sex. Like—knee-high, novelty print socks,” you divulge. “Multiple times.”

Seokmin’s mouth falls open. “No. No. No.”

“Yes.”

“Was that—was it a kink thing or—?”

“Unclear,” you say. “He called it his 'performance gear.”

Seokmin makes a scandalized noise and drops his sandwich in horror. “That is the worst thing I’ve ever heard. I hate the fact you experienced that.”

You’re laughing now. The kind of light, surprised laugh that bubbles up without warning. “I can go worse.”

“Don’t you dare. I’m already mortified.”

“Come on, Mr. No Dating Experience,” you tease. “You’re the one who wanted to know. Unless you’re just jealous.”

He goes red instantly. It shoots up his ears, stains his neck. “I—well, maybe I should be! I don’t have any dramatic sock stories to tell,” he says defensively. “I had one crush in the eighth grade who gave me half of a Twix bar.” 

“That’s romantic.” 

“She transferred schools the next day.”

You burst out laughing, while Seokmin stares at you helplessly. “It’s not not character building,” he whines, shaking your shoulders as you giggle over his misfortune. 

Across the lawn, Joshua nearly drops his water bottle doing a double take at the sight of you two. Joshua blinks a few times, looks away, and proceeds to accidentally pour water down his own shirt.

You and Seokmin exchange a glance.

“Half-win?” he whispers.

You grin. “Half-win.”

He reaches for another fry. You nudge his knee with yours. Lunch hour ticks on like a warm, strange summer dream.

--

You’re elbow-deep in foam fingers and keychains when Seokmin saunters over, oozing effort.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he says, leaning on the edge of the merch booth like he’s James fucking Dean. “Need a hand, or were you just waiting for me?”

It’s so out of character that you freeze for a second, your fist halfway inside a box labeled CLEARANCE MUGS. Then, you clock Soonyoung loitering a few steps away, nursing a popsicle and watching the two of you with all the interest of someone half-invested in a reality show.

You turn back to Seokmin. He winks. Actually winks. It’s not subtle. You can feel the twitch of his eyelashes from here.

Soonyoung squints. “You guys good?”

“Just peachy,” you chirp, playing along. You sling an arm around Seokmin’s shoulder and lean in a little, giving the performance a few more sparks. “My knight in branded polo just saved me from mug-related peril.”

“Cool,” Soonyoung says, totally unfazed. “Let me know if you find the sunscreen shipment. Shua burned his face again.”

You hold your grin until he’s gone, then collapse against Seokmin’s side with a snort. “Jesus. That was rough.”

Seokmin groans. “I thought the wink would sell it.”

“The wink was, frankly, terrifying.”

He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m trying, okay?”

“You’ve got heart, baby,” you say, patting his chest. “Execution just needs a little work.”

He mutters something about humiliation and stock rooms.

“You sure you’ve never dated before?” you ask, teasing.

He sighs, still pink. “Yeah. Theater kid. Improv. Not exactly irresistible, apparently.”

You blink at him, then let your gaze sweep from the messy fringe of his hair to the freckle on his jaw, lingering a second longer than necessary. Sure, Seokmin is a bit—all over the place. But he’s boyishly attractive, and if he wasn’t doomed to wear rose quartz and serenity as a 9-5, you think he might actually be a real catch. 

You decide to let him know. 

“Seokmin,” you say slowly. “You are irresistible as fuck, actually..”

He gapes at you. You pretend not to notice how his ears go red like warning lights.

You busy yourself with mugs again, all while your heart plays hopscotch in your chest.

After the disaster masterclass with Soonyoung, you decide to up your act. With Seokmin's consent, of course. 

It’s silly, really. His hand settles in the back pocket of your jeans as if it belongs there, palm flat against the curve of your ass like this is the most natural thing in the world. It’s not. It isn’t. Seokmin is practically vibrating with embarrassment, eyes darting like he’s waiting for a lightning bolt to strike him down. He’s sweating through his uniform polo, and you can feel the tremor in his fingers as he tries—bless him—to stay composed.

“You okay there, champ?” you murmur out the side of your mouth, smile still perfectly plastered. You’ve faked worse. But there’s something especially comical about watching Seokmin try to play suave when he looks like he might pass out from holding your gaze too long.

“Totally fine. Just, uh, practicing proximity,” he says, a little too loud, a little too stiff.

“Proximity,” you echo, biting down a laugh. “Sure. That’s what the kids are calling it now.”

He opens his mouth to reply but clams up instantly when Joshua walks by and double-takes so hard it’s like his neck cricks. Joshua’s eyes linger for a second too long, eyebrows halfway up his forehead, and then he walks faster, like maybe if he moves quickly enough, the image of Seokmin copping a feel in broad daylight will erase itself from his memory.

“Was that—did that count as a win?” Seokmin mumbles.

You grin victoriously. “Definitely a win.” 

Seokmin exhales, relieved. “You’re really good at this,” he breathes. 

“Oh, honey,” you say, adjusting your shirt and looping your arm around his waist like it’s nothing. “I haven’t even started.”

--

Seokmin shoots you a wide-eyed look over Soonyoung's shoulder. You know the one. The look that says, Please get me out of here before I die.

For the past fifteen minutes, Soonyoung has been monologuing about his fantasy, co-ed K-pop group, who he thinks would thrive the most in JYP Entertainment. You catch Seokmin’s eye and give him a sympathetic smile. When there’s a lull in the conversation, you seize your moment.

“We should get going,” you say, brushing your hand against Seokmin’s arm. It makes you feel like a scene partner in a bad rom-com. “Busy day.”

Soonyoung nods, waving a little too enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah! Go do your merch-y things!”

And that’s your cue.

You lean in like it’s second nature and press a kiss to Seokmin’s cheek—except he turns to look at you just as you're going in, and your lips graze far too close to the corner of his mouth.

Seokmin freezes, eyes wide, cheeks pink. You pull back with a proud little smirk, only to hear Soonyoung’s delighted voice go, “Aww, cute!”

Soonyoung then leans in and, before you can stop him, plants a swift kiss to your cheek.

You blink.

Seokmin blinks.

Soonyoung pulls away, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Guess that’s how we’re saying goodbye now, huh? Love that for us.”

And then he’s gone, humming something off-key.

You and Seokmin are left standing in stunned silence, lips parted, eyes still tracking the space Soonyoung just vacated.

“What just happened?” Seokmin asks dazedly.

“We’re either really bad at this,” you say, “or Soonyoung’s just really, really good at being Soonyoung.”

Seokmin lets out a strangled laugh. “You think Shua’s gonna want a kiss next time too?”

“God, let’s hope not. I only have so much emotional bandwidth.”

The next month’s announcement comes with a twist neither of you anticipated. 

Wonwoo—quiet, brooding, catlike in demeanor—is the new Employee of the Month. The rest of the team cheers for him with tepid enthusiasm, and he accepts it with a shrug, already halfway back to the cabanas before the applause dies down.

But for you and Seokmin? It’s hope. A rare, glimmering thing.

Seokmin finds you an hour later, halfway through inventory behind the booths. He sidles in beside you like he’s doing something criminal, which—considering the last few weeks of manufactured PDA and workplace sabotage—isn't far from the truth.

“Heard the news?” he says.

“Wonwoo finally getting recognition for his uncanny ability to look hot and disinterested at the same time? Yeah. Big day for the guy.”

“No, I mean—” He lowers his voice, eyes flicking to the open slats of the booth. “Do you think this means it’s working? That they’re onto us?”

You close the inventory sheet and lean against the shelf. “I mean, maybe. But let’s not get cocky. We still work here. We’re not off the hook until we’re fully jobless and making life choices our parents would cry about.”

Seokmin grimaces. “Right. That.”

You bump your shoulder into his. “We gotta up the ante.”

He raises an eyebrow. “What, like another back pocket maneuver?”

“No. We bring out the big guns.”

He looks skeptical. “What’s bigger than the back pocket?”

“A kiss.”

Seokmin chokes on absolutely nothing. “A kiss?”

“In public. Obviously. Catch us in 4K. Let the rumors fly, let HR cry.”

He stares at you like you’ve suggested robbing a bank. Which, to be fair, with this level of emotional fraud it isn’t too far off. “You’re serious.”

“As a tax audit.”

He groans and drops his forehead onto your shoulder. “I am not mentally equipped for this.”

“You’re doing great, handsome.”

“Don’t call me handsome when you’re about to ruin my life.”

You grin, threading your fingers together in a fake prayer. “It’s only fake ruining. Come on, do it for the cause.”

He sighs deeply, like a martyr. “Alright. But if this backfires, you’re buying me dinner.”

“Deal. And dessert, too. You’ll need something sweet to cry into when we’re finally free.”

The plans get made. You’re both actively trying to get fired, sure, but Seokmin still wants to get some of his stuff done. And so the two of you stay even as the clock ticks past eleven, Carat Bay, a ghost town save for you and Seokmin. 

Plastic bins of unsold shirts and foam fingers lay scattered around you while you’re both sluggishly folding and stacking them back into place. The fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting a sterile hum over the quiet.

Seokmin yawns into his shoulder and tosses a crumpled hoodie into a bin without aiming. It lands with a sad little flop, nowhere close to folded. You nudge him with your hip.

“You're getting sloppy,” you snicker.

“‘M tired,” he mumbles.

“Whose idea was it to volunteer for overtime, huh?”

He gives a small, sheepish smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes tonight. You watch him for a beat longer than you should, picking up on how the weight of something heavier seems to settle over him.

“Hey,” you say, softer now. “You okay?”

Seokmin fiddles with the hem of the hoodie, his fingers restless. For a moment you think he won’t answer. But then he breathes out a laugh, quiet and self-deprecating.

“I guess I owe you the truth,” he says, “about why I wanted to get fired so badly.”

You put the last foam finger down and turn to him, giving him your full attention. He looks everywhere but you before admitting, “I… I wanna open an animal shelter. Mostly for dogs, but… you know. Cats too. Whatever needs a home.”

You blink, processing. “Seokmin, that’s—that’s noble as fuck.”

He gives a short laugh. “Yeah, well. Not really. I’ve been saving up, but my parents aren’t really big on  charity and shit. They still want me to take over this place."

Your heart twists painfully at his honesty, at the way he says it like he's bracing for you to think less of him. “Seokmin,” you insist, stepping closer, “I can’t believe you’d ever be embarrassed of this. You want to get fired because you want to help dogs?”

He lets out another laugh, finally looking at you. “When you put it like that, it sounds stupid.”

“It sounds like you have the biggest heart in the world,” you correct him.

He flushes at the praise, ducking his head. You feel something tender pull tight in your chest.

“You’re gonna do it,” you say, firm. “You’re gonna open that shelter. And it’s gonna be amazing."

Seokmin gives you a look so soft you have to glance away, pretending to busy yourself with a pile of lanyards. But even as you fumble with the cheap keychains, you feel the warmth of his smile on your skin—quiet and certain, as if for the first time, he believes it too.

--

The cubicle smells like a mix of chlorine, sunscreen, and the ghost of body spray someone probably forgot to bring home last week. 

You and Seokmin are pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in the tight space, backs to the damp plastic wall, waiting. You can hear the sound of people outside. Laughter, feet slapping against tiles, the zip of a towel being whipped like a weapon. No one ever checks the shower cubicles during lunch. They’re too humid, too gross. That’s what makes it perfect.

“Okay,” you say, shifting your weight, peering at Seokmin. He’s biting the inside of his cheek, eyes fixed on some grout on the tiles. “We don’t have to, like, make out or anything. Just something quick. Catchy. Like a Sabrina Carpenter music video.”

Seokmin nods slowly. Then shakes his head. Then nods again. “Right. Okay. But, uh… just so you know… I’ve never done this before.”

“Kissed someone?”

“Yeah,” he says. He sounds like he’s confessing to murder. “Like—not even a stage kiss. I always got cast as the comedic relief or the tree.”

You pause. That makes your heart hurt a little. This was supposed to be a dumb performance. Another scheme. But now, your stomach knots with guilt. 

“Do you want to back out?” you ask, already leaning away. “I don’t want to take your first kiss in, like, a sticky-ass stall with pool water dripping on us. That’s a memory you’ll carry forever.”

But before you can make a clean retreat, Seokmin grabs your wrist.

“I want to,” he says, and for once, he doesn’t sound unsure. “With you. It’s doesn’t sound  bad.”

You freeze for a beat. His grip is warm. His cheeks are flushed pink, and he’s still damp from the park’s mist sprayers. For some reason, your heart picks that moment to hammer in your chest.

“Okay,” you breathe.

You lean in. You expect it to be awkward, but it’s… not. 

It’s a little shy at first—his lips tentative, almost featherlight—but it deepens just slightly, like he’s trusting you to lead. His hand flutters awkwardly at your waist, not quite sure where to go, before settling on your hip.

When you pull back, you’re both a little dazed. 

“Christ,” you murmur.

Seokmin grins, soft and stunned. “That wasn’t terrible.”

You smile, and for a second, you forget why you’re even here. Right—

You're still holding onto his wrist, gently, when you say, “We could practice. If you want. Just to make it convincing.”

Seokmin clears his throat. “Practice?” 

“Yeah,” you say, with a noncommittal shrug. All cool girl, chill girl, this-isn’t-a-big-deal girl. “Just enough so we’re not all teeth and awkward angles when it counts. We want it to look natural.”

He nods, visibly thinking through the logistics. Then, a little breathlessly, he says, “Okay. Yeah. Practice. That makes sense.”

You step closer. The shower stall is cramped, so it’s not hard. Your shoes bump into his, your body brushing his chest. You place one of his hands on your waist. His fingers are hesitant, like he’s afraid you might change your mind and bolt.

“Touch me like you want to,” you urge him gently. “Like you're allowed to.”

His palm flattens more deliberately now. You feel the shift in him, the effort. His other hand lifts but hovers, unsure.

“Here,” you guide it, fingers curling gently around his wrist to place it at the side of your face. “You can hold me here. It helps.”

His thumb grazes your cheek, trembling slightly. His breath comes shallow.

“Now, slower this time,” you say. “Tilt your head a little more.”

He does, obedient. Eager. His eyes flick to your mouth, and then he leans in.

The second kiss is better. Less rush, more curiosity. You taste mint gum and something sweet—maybe from the café earlier. His lips are soft, tentative, and open slightly when yours press in a little firmer.

Your fingers rest lightly on his collarbone. His hand on your waist grips tighter, just a little. He kisses you again, like he’s learning. Like he wants to keep learning.

When you pull away, just slightly, he���s dazed and pink in the cheeks.

“Okay,” he says, voice low and stunned. “That was... useful.”

You try not to laugh. “We’ll need more practice. Just to sell it.”

“Right,” he agrees, too fast. “Totally. For realism.”

You’re both kidding each other at this point, but to hell with it. 

Things escalate not long after. He’s touchier. Bolder. Somewhere along the way, Seokmin has stopped flinching when he touches you in public and started leaning into the performance like it’s second nature. And worse still: he’s getting good at it.

A brush of his fingers along the dip of your waist as you reach for the locker door. A comment in front of Soonyoung about how you look good in the staff polo, followed by a wink that is actually genuinely disarming. One time, he even smooths your hair back before a team meeting, murmuring something about presentation.

You catch Mingyu watching the two of you, eyes narrowed. Minghao frowns when Seokmin lets you steal a bite of his lunch using the same fork. The whispers are starting, and not even Seokmin’s endearing clumsiness can cover for the shift in atmosphere.

But the real danger doesn’t come from the outside.

It comes from the break room.

You’re sitting on the counter while Seokmin stands between your legs, lips a breath away. It’s meant to be another rehearsal. A quick one. A casual, convincing peck for the hallway.

Instead, Seokmin’s hand brushes your thigh. Not by accident.

Your breath hitches. He pauses. You don’t move.

His palm presses firmer, sliding just barely, just enough.

Then, without much warning, he leans in and kisses you again. Slower. A little hungrier. It catches you off guard—not because it’s clumsy, but because it’s not. It’s careful. Considered. There’s intention behind it, like he’s trying to see what else he can get away with.

You make a sound. It’s not loud, but it’s unmistakable. A quiet, surprised thing at the back of your throat.

Seokmin jerks back immediately. You stare at each other, both stunned into silence.

“What was that?” you ask, heart pounding.

His voice is soft, eyes wide. “I—I don’t know. I thought we were practicing.”

“We are,” you say, but it comes out shaky.

You both stare at each other for another beat.

It’s getting dangerous. Very, very dangerous. You force yourself to act, to play the role. You shift, leaning back slightly to break the tension, giving him a small, teasing smile. “Now I’m curious, Seokmin. Can you make the same sound?”

The question only flusters him even more. “What?” 

“You know. The sound I made. You looked like you liked it.”

“I—” he sputters, adorably scandalized. “That wasn’t—I mean, it was nice, but I wasn’t—”

You lean closer again, voice dropping just slightly. “Let me try something.”

He nods. Wordless. Willing.

Your hands come up to rest on his chest, warm over the fabric of his shirt. You feel the faint thud of his heart beneath your palms. He’s wound tight, you can tell, nervous in the way he always is when you close the distance. You tilt your head, angle your lips near his ear.

“Relax,” you whisper, soft, lilting.

Then you kiss him.

It starts gentle, barely-there pressure. Your hands slide up his shoulders, then down, resting at his hips as you slot your mouth against his more deliberately. You deepen it slowly, coaxing, guiding.

When your fingers skim up the nape of his neck, he makes a sound—a small, breathy one that ghosts from the back of his throat. It makes your stomach flip, makes you smile into the kiss. You do it again. Just to hear it.

“That,” you murmur, lips brushing his, “was hot.”

He groans in embarrassment, pulling back to bury his face in your shoulder.

“You can't just say stuff like that,” he mumbles, muffled.

“Why not? You sounded good. Really good.”

You laugh, light and airy, and he groans again. When he peeks up at you again, he’s still flushed. But he’s smiling.

“Okay,” he whispers, all conspiratorial, almost as if it were a dare, “your turn again.”

You’re in trouble.

--

The plan is simple, in theory: get caught in a compromising position by the most enthusiastic gossip in Carat Bay. 

The break room behind the bumper cars is off-limits after closing. Soonyoung has a habit of staying late to tally the day’s dance competition scores. It’s foolproof. Everything’s lined up.

Except Seokmin is looking at you like he’s just been asked to disarm a bomb with his teeth.

“I didn’t think you’d actually…” he trails off, eyes darting downwards, where your polo shirt now lies folded over the employee bench. His cheeks are redder than you’ve ever seen them, which is saying something. You’re still wearing your undershirt—barely indecent by any standard—but Seokmin’s expression says otherwise.

“Strip?” you finish for him, amused. “It’s the uniform. People get fired for less than partial nudity, you know.”

He swallows. Hard. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

You laugh, stepping closer. “Seokmin, we’re trying to sell the illusion. If we’re going to pull this off, I need you to look less like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m not gonna pass out,” he lies, his voice two pitches higher than usual.

You reach up, fingers grazing the side of his face, and it’s like flipping a switch. He exhales, trembling a little. Your thumb brushes the corner of his mouth.

“We’ve done this before,” you remind him gently. “We’ve kissed before. This is just like practice, remember?”

He nods again, more believably this time. “Yeah. Just like practice.”

“Exactly.” 

You press your lips to his, soft and warm. 

Enough to ease him in, to coax some steadiness into his hands where they hover near your waist. You kiss him again, this time slower, more deliberate.

And maybe—just maybe—you’re reassuring yourself as much as you are him. Because your skin tingles where his fingers tentatively land on your hips, and your breath hitches when his mouth parts just slightly, enough to let your tongue graze his.

He pulls back first, eyes wide and unfocused. “That was…”

“Convincing?” you offer, trying to keep your voice steady.

He nods mutely, blinking at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Good,” you murmur, straightening his shirt collar. “Let’s make this a performance Soonyoung won’t ever shut up about.”

The break room is just warm enough to be stifling, wrapped in the hush of neon hum and the smell of popcorn grease and old rubber. You’re straddling Seokmin’s lap on the worn-out couch you’ve both dubbed the ‘emergency plushie zone.’ 

Seokmin’s tie is hanging off a peg behind you, abandoned somewhere between your fifth and sixth practice kisses. How much fucking practice one needs to get this ‘right,’ you’re not sure, but neither of you are complaining. 

This kiss starts like the rest, lips brushing with practiced familiarity, but something shifts when Seokmin’s hands curl around your waist with more certainty than before.

"You’re really getting good at this," you murmur against his mouth.

He huffs a shy laugh, fingers slipping beneath the hem of your undershirt where your skin runs hot. “You told me to practice.”

“I didn’t tell you to practice this well,” you say, and then you kiss him again, hungrier now, breath catching when his hand trails up your spine.

It’s just an act, you remind yourself. Just something to get Soonyoung to walk in and freak out, let the gossip train do the rest.

Except Seokmin moans when you nip at his lower lip. A small sound, barely there—but it melts into you. You want to hear it again. So you shift your weight, rolling your hips once. His breath stutters. Yours does too.

You press your mouth to the underside of his jaw, voice low. “You’re really committing to the bit.”

“I think,” Seokmin says, voice wrecked with something like disbelief, “I’m losing track of what’s a bit.”

You smile against his neck. “We’ve been at it for twenty minutes. Where the hell is Soonyoung?”

“Was—Was Soonyoung even at work today?” 

You freeze. You pull back and stare at Seokmin. 

Kwon Soonyoung had taken a ‘sick’ leave today. To line up at midnight for a video game. He bragged about it in the group chat that all the newbies shared. 

You glance down at your exposed chest, then at the way your thighs are locked around Seokmin’s hips. “Are we fucking stupid?” you wonder out loud. 

Seokmin blinks at you, lips swollen and pink, eyes blown wide. He leans his head back against the couch with a groan. “I don’t think I can do that again without losing my soul,” he rasps. 

“You’ll get it back in pieces,” you sigh, patting Seokmin’s chest in a gesture that’s meant to be reassuring. “Starting with your tie.”

--

You’re heading back from the boardwalk, salt still on your skin and the cheap cola you pilfered from the vendor stand fizzing in your hand, when you hear voices. The kind that make you stop short and lean just a little closer to the maintenance shed wall, pretending like you’re very interested in the bulletin board you’ve seen a hundred times.

It’s Joshua. Low and calm, like always, but there’s a seriousness in his voice you’re not used to.

“Seokmin. I just want to know what this is.”

You freeze. You don’t mean to. You know it’s bad form to eavesdrop, especially when you’re the this in question, but something roots you to the spot.

“I’m not trying to start anything,” Joshua continues, “but if this is just a game, if the two of you are pretending? You guys should quit it. Seriously. You’re both going to get into a shitton of trouble.”

A beat. Then Seokmin’s voice rings out, convincingly offended.

“It’s not pretend. I like her.”

Your breath catches.

“I like how she always wipes her hands on her shorts even when she has a towel. I like how she rolls her eyes like the world’s exhausting but she still shows up every day. I like that she lets me be nervous, but doesn’t treat me like I’m fragile. I like her laugh. A lot.”

Joshua doesn’t say anything, so Seokmin keeps going.

“I’m—I may not be able to call her my girlfriend. Not yet,” he says hastily. “But that doesn’t change the way I feel. I lo—like being around her. I like her, Shua.” 

You press your lips together, suddenly unsure what to do with your hands, your breath, your entire chest. You feel like a live wire. Humming, sparking at the edges with something dangerous and sweet.

None of that was part of the act.

And, fine. You wish it were real. Just a little bit. Just enough to close the distance between his feelings and yours.

You slip away from the corner of the shed before either boy notices you there. The cola in your hand has gone flat. Kind of like your plan.

The conversation makes a home underneath your skin, hangs like a cloud over your head. It exists even as you’re perched on the countertop in the employee break room, the sickly hum of the vending machine buzzing under the clatter of Seokmin's footsteps. He slots himself between your knees with the same ease he’s learned over the past few weeks, hands bracing on either side of your thighs. It would be routine now, if not for the fact that your heart is somewhere around your ankles.

His eyes search yours. “Are you okay?” he asks delicately, looking at you with that concerned glance he’s been throwing your way all afternoon. 

The thing about Seokmin is that he's gotten good at reading you lately, which would be great if you weren’t actively trying to keep your thoughts from turning into a romantic nosedive. You sigh. Might as well throw it all out. “I overheard you and Joshua,” you push out through your teeth. 

Seokmin freezes like you’ve just dropped on him  a bucket of ice water. “What?”

You offer a crooked smile, something flimsy and fragile. “You were good. Like, really convincing. Should’ve guessed you were a theater kid.”

He looks like he’s been punched. The breath leaves him slowly. “You thought I was lying.”

You don’t answer. You don’t have to. The way your gaze skitters off to the corner of the room is answer enough.

His voice goes soft when he says his name, and you presume it’s him readying you. He’s about to let you down gently, you think. “I—” he starts, and you refuse to hear it. Not without one final act of stupidity. 

You move before you can think. Your hand cups the back of his neck and you yank him forward, pressing your lips to his like it'll keep everything messy and tender at bay. It’s not careful. It’s not supposed to be. It’s a distraction, a fire alarm, an emotional eject button.

Seokmin doesn’t kiss you back, not immediately; his brain is still caught on whatever he was about to say. The kiss only lasts a few seconds, but it’s long enough for the door to swing open behind you.

“GUYS—”

You both tear apart like you’ve been electrocuted. Soonyoung stands at the doorway holding a neon slushie. The look on his face is the type of thing that would have him going viral on TikTok.

You and Seokmin exchange a look, wide-eyed and flushed.

It’s the worst time to get caught, and of course, that’s when it finally happens.

--

The fallout begins quietly.

Which is the worst part, really.

No fireworks, no messy confrontation, just an unrelenting silence that creeps in where easy laughter used to be. Every brush of Seokmin’s hand now feels weighted, every shared glance taut with the possibility of a conversation you’re not ready to have.

Worse, people are buying it. Hook, line, and sinker. After Soonyoung caught the two of you mid-liplock, the rumor mill went into overdrive, and suddenly, no one bats an eye when Seokmin shares his food with you, or when your knees knock beneath the merchandise booth. Everyone thinks you’re together. That you’re real.

It makes it harder than ever to fake it.

Seokmin still tries. He flashes you that warm grin and slings his arm around your shoulder like nothing’s changed, but it has. You can feel it in the way he hesitates before touching you, or how his laughter doesn’t quite reach his eyes when you tease him. He wants to talk about it. You know he does.

And he tries.

It happens after another long shift, the two of you walking side by side through the near-empty parking lot. The sky is bruised and pink at the edges, cotton-candy dusk descending on Carat Bay like an afterthought. He catches your wrist, gently but firmly.

“Can we just—talk?” he says, voice low, eyes impossibly sincere.

It’s the exact thing you’ve been avoiding. You look at his hand around your wrist and your heart hammers in your chest. You want to hear him out. You want to ask him which parts were real, and which ones were for show. You want to tell him it’s been pretty damn hard for you to tell the difference, even if you’re the one who laid out the blueprint months ago. 

But you’re a coward. And this isn’t part of the plan.

So you do what you’re best at.

You run.

You tug your hand free and turn on your heel. You don’t get far. Just past the bumpers, right by the yellow staff lines painted across the lot, you hear it—the telltale squeak of worn soles and a long-suffering sigh.

Changbin. 

He’s standing there, arms crossed, expression unreadable. His eyes flick from you to Seokmin, whose hand is still hovering like it’s caught mid-air.

“Inside. Both of you,” Changbin says coolly. “HR wants a word.”

Great.

You’ve been trying to get fired for months. And now, at long last, it feels like your wish is about to come true.

Except the look Seokmin shoots you isn’t relief.

It’s heartbreak.

The HR room is ice cold. Not temperature-wise—someone must've left the thermostat on the exact edge of comfort. It’s cold in that awful, bureaucratic kind of way. Like nothing good has ever happened in here. Like no one’s ever left this place with dignity fully intact.

Changmin, the HR Manager, offers you both paper cups of water. His smile is so bland it’s offensive. “Let’s make this quick,” he says, as if he has something better to do than scold employees for handsy interactions in the Carat Bay parking lot. “There’ve been some... concerns.”

Your arms are crossed. Seokmin’s foot keeps tapping under the table, a nervous rhythm he’s trying to stifle.

“Rumors have been circulating,” Changmin continues, folding his hands neatly. “Several employees have reported seeing you two getting cozy on company time.”

You open your mouth, but Seokmin beats you to it. “We weren’t—I mean, it was nothing compromising,” he argues feebly. 

“The CCTV disagrees.”

Holy shit. You almost forgot about that. There are eyes and ears all over the place; you and Seokmin didn’t even have to wait around for Soonyoung. The two of you could have just made out in the merch booth and been done with it.

“You’re both aware of the rule,” Changmin goes on. “No romantic fraternization during work hours. No workplace relationships without disclosure. And certainly not in full view of customers or staff.”

“Yes,” you mutter.

Changmin sighs, as if he genuinely hates what’s about to happen. “After internal discussion, we’ve decided to terminate the employment of one party.”

It sinks in a beat too late, what’s wrong about the statement. 

One party. Only one of you is going to get sacked, and it’s pretty clear who it’s going to be. 

Seokmin’s head snaps toward you. “What? No, that—that doesn’t make sense,” he sputters. “We both broke the rule.”

Changmin's smile flickers. “Mr. Lee, you know very well your position in this company.”

Ah. There it is.

The heir card.

You could laugh, but it’d come out strangled.

“This doesn’t have to be a big thing,” Changmin says smoothly. “We’ll phrase it as a mutual separation. No disciplinary record. A clean reference, if needed.”

You stare at the condensation sliding down your paper cup. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To get fired. To be released from this pastel-colored theme park hellscape and finally live your own damn life.

And yet.

Beside you, Seokmin's voice breaks. “It wasn’t just her. If anyone should take responsibility—”

“This is final,” Changmin says, in the politest voice imaginable.

You got what you had planned for. Why does it feel like shit?

You find Seokmin in the parking lot after the meeting, his hands jammed in his pockets, shoulders drawn up like they’re trying to shield him from the world. The Carat Bay sign flickers behind him, casting a tacky blue halo over his profile. You take slow steps toward him, gravel crunching under your shoes.

“Hey,” you say tentatively. “I—I didn’t think it would go like that. I thought we’d both get fired. That was the point.”

Seokmin doesn’t look at you. His jaw works, like he’s trying to swallow something sharp. “I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted,” he says flatly.

“That’s not—” You stop yourself, bite your tongue. “You know that’s not what I meant. I didn’t want you to get hurt by this. I didn’t think they’d—only fire me.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, the kind that tastes of ash. “Of course they didn’t. Why would they? I’m Lee Seokmin, Prince of Carat Bay. Fucking heir to the tacky throne.”

You step closer. “Seokmin—”

“No, seriously. This is the first time I ever tried to do something for myself, and I managed to ruin it by—” He breaks off, exhales hard through his nose. “By catching feelings for someone who only wanted a clean way out.”

You flinch. “That's not fair.”

“Isn't it?” he snaps. “You heard what I told Shua, right? You were eavesdropping. So you know. You know I wasn't acting. You kissed me anyway, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just another scene.”

You shake your head. “I kissed you because I didn’t know what to say,” you say, voice cracking. “Because I was scared. Not because I didn’t care.”

Seokmin finally looks at you, and it guts you. His eyes are red-rimmed, vulnerable in a way he’s never let you see. When he speaks, it’s as good as a confession, “I thought maybe, just maybe, if I kept being useful, if I kept showing up, you’d start to want me for real,” he manages. “But I guess I really was just an acting partner, huh?” 

He pulls back when you reach for him. “Don’t,” he says, looking less like the boy you’ve come to love and more like the ghost of him. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” 

And then he’s walking away, shoulders still hunched, hands still buried in his pockets, as if letting them out might betray too much. You stay rooted to the spot, the neon lights buzzing overhead, your name already half-forgotten by the place—and the coworker—you were trying so hard to leave behind. 

--

You have at least two more weeks before your exile from Carat Bay is final, and you tell yourself you’re okay.

You tell yourself that when Seokmin, who you’ve worked elbow-to-elbow with all summer, starts pretending you’re not breathing the same air as him. You tell yourself that when he disappears to ‘stock’ the back room every time you so much as look at him.

You tell yourself that when he hands you inventory lists like he’s passing secret messages in a Cold War spy thriller. Gaze averted, fingers barely brushing yours.

You’re fine.

It’s fine.

You’re very normal about the fact that the boy who once had a casual palm curved to the slope of your ass now can’t stand to be within two feet of you. The boy who used to trip over himself to steal kisses, to coax soft sounds out of your throat in the shadowed corners of Carat Bay, now can’t even meet your eyes.

The merchandise booth is tiny, the kind of claustrophobic that’s usually endearing in the early stages of a slow-burn romance. Now it feels like a battlefield. 

Every interaction is a landmine. You joke with Soonyoung and Joshua louder than necessary just to fill the silence Seokmin leaves behind. You laugh a little too hard when Mingyu teases you about winning the Fastest Employee-to-HR Pipeline award. You act normal. You’re good at acting normal.

Seokmin, for all his theater-kid roots, isn’t.

His silences are loud. His stiffness is louder.

You catch him watching you sometimes, when he thinks you’re not looking. There’s a hollow, guilty kind of sadness in it, like he’s punishing himself. Like he’s mourning something neither of you can name.

You don’t know how to fix it. You’re not sure you should. Wasn't this what you wanted?

You got out. You got what you needed. It’s not your fault if somewhere along the way, Seokmin handed you something far messier, far more dangerous, and you didn’t know how to hold it.

You clock in. You clock out. You memorize the days until your last shift like you’re counting down to parole.

You don’t think about how empty the booth feels now.

You don’t think about the way Seokmin used to smile at you like you put the sun in the sky.

You don’t think at all.

You can’t afford to.

And, really, you don’t mean to cry. You’d told yourself you’d get through your shift, maybe duck into the bathroom if it got bad enough. You could’ve handled this like an adult. Quietly. Dignified.

Instead, here you are in the back break room, facedown against the sticky laminate table. Your shoulders are shaking, and you’re sniffling embarrassingly loud as you try to muffle the sound.

“Whoa, hey,” comes Soonyoung’s voice, full of immediate alarm. “Hey, what—oh my God, are you crying?”

You don’t look up. You can’t. You just groan low into your arms, trying to make the world swallow you whole. Of all the people who could find you. 

There’s the rustling sound of Soonyoung pulling out the chair next to you, scooting in close. A warm, awkward hand pats the middle of your back.

“Hey,” he says again, softer now. “Hey, it’s okay. Breakups suck. Like, really bad. Especially when it’s someone you see every day at work. That’s brutal.”

You let out a wet, miserable noise.

“Everyone’s been talking,” Soonyoung continues, unaware of the dagger twisting deeper into your gut. “Like, we all kinda figured something was wrong since Seokmin’s been… I dunno, all weird. He barely even smiles anymore. He’s acting like you killed his cat.”

You lift your head just enough to squint at Soonyoung through bleary eyes. “It wasn’t even real,” you whisper.

“Huh?”

You sniff and rub your sleeve across your nose, cringing at yourself. “It was all fake. Me and Seokmin. We were faking it.”

Soonyoung blinks at you. “Like… the relationship?”

You nod miserably.

“Why?”

Through your tears, you tell Soonyoung everything. The plan, the faking it, the makeout sessions. The way it ended on a Wednesday, of all days, which is terrible—because you both had to clock in the next morning like you hadn’t just broken each other’s hearts. 

Soonyoung leans back in his chair, processing this with the same serious expression he reserves for really important things, like choosing what to order for lunch.

“Okay,” he says after a beat. “That’s kinda… diabolical. But also, like, you and Seokmin… you’re just idiots in love.”

You let out a half-sob, half-laugh, wiping your eyes with the heel of your palm.

“I mean it,” Soonyoung says, smiling now, in that rare, earnest way of his. “You’re both idiots. And it’s kinda beautiful, if you think about it.”

You don’t know if ‘beautiful’ is the right word for the mess you’ve made.

But maybe—maybe it could be.

--

You always figure there’s a big act of romance in every rom-com. A grand, sweeping gesture by the male lead. Unfortunately, your male lead is out of commission; you decide to take things into your own hands. 

It’s your last day of work, and you have nothing left to lose.

Lunch time is your choice of poison. You wait for the clock to hit exactly 12:30, and then you hit Send after making sure everybody who matters is in the breakroom. 

Someone gasps. Someone else drops their coffee. Employees and managers alike pull out their phones to see what’s so stunning. 

The screenshots are in the group chat. Seokmin’s texts to you over the past few months, confessions of all the petty little sabotage attempts he’s made at the merchandise booth: mislabeling shirts, sneaking wrong sizes into bags, purposefully miscounting plushies. 

People are side-eyeing you, whispering among themselves—

“Damn, she’s really airing him out.”

“Was the breakup that bad?” 

“Evil ass ex.” 

You ignore them all.

You’re focused on Seokmin, who is seated between Joshua and Soonyoung. When he glances at his lockscreen, he does a double take. Blinks. Shoots up, his expression slack with horror. He looks like he’s about to make a run for it. 

You cross the room in a couple of quick strides. Before Seokmin can say a word, you grab him by the collar of his stupid Carat Bay polo and kiss him. Long. Hard. Unapologetic. 

Your mouth moves against his like you’re staking a claim. Like you’re not done with him yet. 

The breakroom explodes in noise—shrieks, whistles, laughter—but you barely hear it. Your brain is doing that thing again, the one where your entire world narrows into nothing whenever you’re up against Seokmin like this. 

You’ve known since the first time you kissed him that he would ruin you. You were right. 

You break the kiss to breathe, to murmur against his lips, “You’re definitely going to get fired now.” 

You don’t need to look to know a few mothers outside the breakroom are going to be scandalized. That the CCTV in the corner is blinking red, and Seokmin’s face is angled so you absolutely cannot manipulate or miss who had just participated in public indecency. 

For the first time in days, Seokmin smiles.

Not the fake half-smile he’s been giving you lately. Not the sad, wilted one. A real one. Wide and bright and devastatingly beautiful. He cups your face, leans in, and kisses you again—softer this time, like a promise. 

Screw the script. You're writing your own ending.

--

EPILOGUE. 

The drive is long, but not unbearable. 

Soonyoung and Joshua have packed the car with snacks, and between the three of you, there’s enough chaos to keep the ride from feeling too heavy. It's only when the road smooths out into rolling countryside and the first glimpse of the shelter comes into view—an unassuming building with bright, inviting banners—that your heart tightens in your chest.

“There it is,” Soonyoung says, leaning forward against his seatbelt, eyes wide.

“Cute,” Joshua adds, pulling his sunglasses down to get a better look. “Looks like it belongs to someone who loves, like, every living thing.”

You laugh, amused. “Sounds about right.”

The car barely parks before you're throwing the door open, feet hitting the gravel with an eager crunch. Seokmin is already at the entrance, waving both arms above his head like he's trying to guide a plane in for landing. You sprint the last few steps and collide into him, arms wrapping around his middle.

He lets out a winded, delighted noise, hugging you so tight your feet lift off the ground for a second. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here,” you murmur against his neck. “I’d be a terrible girlfriend otherwise.” 

Behind you, Soonyoung and Joshua groan loudly.

“God, it’s worse than I thought,” Soonyoung sighs. “You’d think the honeymoon phase would be over by now.” 

“It’s watching a rom-com on 2x speed,” Joshua agrees.

Seokmin only grins against your hair, clearly unfazed. He sets you back down but keeps an arm looped lazily around your shoulders as he ushers everyone inside.

The shelter is still new—there’s the faint smell of fresh paint, and not every kennel is full yet—but the energy is unmistakably Seokmin: warm, bright, buzzing with earnest hope. He introduces you to every animal like he’s presenting you with priceless treasures. You fall in love with each one.

You had properly fallen in love with Seokmin shortly after you were both freed from the clutches of Carat Bay. The two of you talked it out. He asked you on a proper date. The rest became history, and the story of your origins—now about half a year in the rearview—proves to be a fun tale to swap during drinking sessions. 

This time, you both got what you wanted, and so much more. 

At one point, Seokmin presses a kiss to your temple. You instinctively lift onto your toes to kiss his jaw in return. You both giggle like teenagers, noses brushing, completely lost in each other.

From behind you, Joshua pretends to gag. “Do we need to leave you two alone with the puppies?” he says judgmentally, arms tightening around the Rottweiler puppy he’d been eyeing for weeks. 

Soonyoung joins in on the teasing. “Disgustingly cute,” he announces dryly, already halfway out the door so he can escape you and Seokmin. And then, he throws in as an afterthought: “You two deserve each other.” 

You glance up at Seokmin. He beams down at you like you’re the only thing he can see.

It pains you to admit—but for once, Kwon Soonyoung might be right about something. 

[buntanteen]

svt fic recs list <3 - svt units & age lines - sfw & nsfw ver.

summary: a total of 22 fic recs (13 sfw, 17 nsfw & 2 bonuses), svt units & age line reader insert fics :)

contains: 18+ nsfw (mdni!!) majority is afab reader

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

✩ sfw section ✩

❥ seventeen’s reaction to you playfully dodging their kisses hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @mangocustard16

❥ black cat partner hyung line | maknae line - @xinganhao

❥ svt reaction to their s/o being jealous hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @etherealyoungk

❥ the soft italicised ‘oh’ moment hyung line | maknae line - @suhnshinehaosnshinehaos

❥ take a pic! hyung line | maknae line - @cheolism-archive (now @ddeonghwa-s)

❥ partner privileges hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @babyleostuff

❥ missing you hyung line | maknae line - @cheoliedollie

❥ svt when their idol s/o dedicates a song to them hyung line | maknae line - @xinganhao

❥ svt reaction to you saying “i really want to kiss you right now” hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @etherealyoungk

❥ the little things hiphop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @suhnshinehaosnshinehaos

❥ wanting a kiss hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @lovingseventeen

❥ dating seventeen hyung line | maknae line - @wqnwoos

❥ first date hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @babyleostuff

✩ nsfw section ✩

❥ when u make them cum fast hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @hoshifighting

❥ mornings after with them! 95z | 96z | 97z | maknae line - @monamipencil

❥ seventeen sexual preferences hip hop unit | performance unit | vocal unit - @wildfluwer

❥ types of kinks hyung line | maknae line - @bittersweet-folder

❥ awkward/funny things that happen during sex! | performance unit | vocal unit - @monamipencil

❥ ending nudes to enemies!svt hyung line | maknae line - @hoshifighting

❥ asking them if you can tie a bow on 'it' 95z | 96z | 97z | maknaez - @monamipencil

✩ mini bonus section ✩

❥ loser line in a relationship (sfw) - @fairyhaos

❥ svt: the daddy kink line (nsfw) - @svtswhorehouse

bun note: what's upppp y'alllll??? BEAM WAS SOOOOOOOOOOO GOOOODDDDDD!! howoo WOOOOOOOOOO!! anyways, i'm thinking that i won't give my commentary if there's like 20+ fics that i'm reccommending :)) just so it isn't overwhelming for y'all to go through :3 just know that i really enjoy these ficsssss!! i hope you'll send the authors love tooooooo <3

[woozivrsefactry]

★ . ꜝꜞ ⛸️ weird things the seventeen members WILL do in bed.

Seungcheol : babies up the second sex is done. Strong macho boyfriend GONEEEE he just a baby who needs cuddles for being so good.

Jeonghan : will say the most unhinged things midsex like he'd be balls deep in you and then he's wondering out loud "how do blind people know when to stop wiping?"

Joshua : polite in bed for no reason. Said excuse me while opening your legs once. Sir disrespect. Please.

Junhui : brother does not know how to dirty talk for the love of god 😭 he'd try but the next moment it feels like he's narrating some national geography episode "and there we see the needy woman gasping for air on my cock."

Hoshi : bit you once. Not sexily. A whole fucking chomp on your shoulder. Told you his tiger instincts make him go wild sometimes. Neither the shape of his teeth from your shoulder nor the second hand embarassment of what he said next hfs left you yet.

Wonwoo : you called him daddy once. Lectures a whole damn ted talk about Freud while you were getting thru the post-orgasmic bliss.

Jihoon : he's so good at sex you wonder how many bitches he'd been fucking before you. Turns out he copies his moves from hentai. HENTAI. That cock-attack just now? It was inspired from a tentacles film he saw but alas he ain't got no tentacles.

Dokyeom : giggles while fucking you. Not moaning. Just happy ass giggles. Like this is a silly picnic date and not him wrecking you away on his cock.

Mingyu : seriously has no idea of his own strength. Like seriously. Once he threw you on bed thinking its like so hot and you ended up bouncing twice and falling off the otherside.

Minghao : mf judges your pose postures. Not corrects. Judges. "Tch, you're gonna arch your back like that?" Like sir can I have my sexy moment 😭

Seungkwan : will go nights fucking you with his mouth shut zero moans zero talking just fucking you your moans awkwardly the only sound in the room all because he's on vocal rest and that ain't stopping him from fucking you.

Vernon : deadass calls his cock lil' vernon. Like a serious nickname. genuinely tries to get you pussy have a nickname so he can say "lil vernie and lil (yn) are gonna have playdate tonight" because plain old "let's fuck" is for amateurs.

Chan : he tried calling you mommy in bed once. In a sexy way. What he said out loud was "eomma" like actually mom. Not cool chan.

[seokminfilm]

mine / lee seokmin

⭐ pairing lee seokmin x reader warnings non-idol au, fluff, established relationship, suggestive (??), boyfriend seokmin, possessive seokmin SJLKFS, mentions of jealousy, down bad seokmin, LOTS of kissing (it's a lowkey makeout session), pet names: love (reader's), seok (his), mentions of svt members (specifically seungkwan & hoshi) summary in which you see a side of seokmin you never knew existed. lyr's notes possessive seokmin...sorry not sorry FJSKLEJ anyways undercut seokmin is my roman empire 👏 prepare for me to use these pictures for the next 10 fics thank you and good night!! now playing call out my name / the weeknd word count 613 written for @kstrucknet

seokmin's hands roamed your body as you leaned against the counter, staring at him with starstruck eyes as he glowered into yours.

"you don't know what you do to me, love." his voice is heavy as he presses into you, breath tickling your neck as he leans down to brush his lips over your collarbone. seokmin's touch is feather-light on your exposed skin, tracing tiny circles into your body as he studies the way you unravel under him.

soonyoung and seungkwan had habits of making themselves friendly with whoever they were sitting with, and of course, this time had to be you. their hands were on you every few minutes, and when you fell on their shoulders, doubling over in laughter, seokmin felt something inside him break.

seokmin knew his friends were too harmless to do anything to steal you away from him, and also knew both wouldn't do something like that, but seeing you stare up at them with the smile you gave seokmin when you wanted him to devour you made seokmin see stars.

you knew how possessive seokmin was getting, taking note of the hand permanently rested on your lower back and the closeness of seokmin's lips on your ear when he whispered to you. the darkness of his usually honey brown eyes as seungkwan complimented your outfit. the silent urge to want to prove the power he had over everyone in that room.

the lingering feeling of possession was contagious, and it was a surprise to see this darker side of your usual sunshine boyfriend. you didn't remember the last time seokmin had reacted like this.

and so, when seokmin had made an half-assed excuse about how he needed to get you home so you could get your beauty sleep (which wasn't all wrong), and rushed you to the car without saying a word, you knew you had pushed him to his limit.

now, here you were, pressed into the couch as seokmin planted light kisses all over your face. his lips hovered near your mouth, lightly brushing yours as he stared at you through his eyelashes. his nose gently poked your cheek, dragging along your jawline as his kisses trailed up and down your neck.

"you know you're mine, right?" seokmin's voice had softened a little since before, and you nod, arms going around seokmin's neck as you lean into him. "i do."

"all mine? no one else's?" the question in his voice makes your legs go weak, but you nod anyways, smile biting at your lips as you nod. "all yours. no one else's."

"why were you acting like that? letting them touch all over you like that." seokmin had a slight pout to his voice, hand cupping your cheek as his thumb runs over your lips. you let out a small sigh, shaking your head as the words fail to form for a second.

"i wasn't acting like anything. i just...i wanted your attention, seok." you flush a tomato red, and seokmin smiles, a smile that's pure and warm despite the position you two are in.

"all you have to do is ask for my attention, love. i'm all yours. any day, any hour, any moment. just say the words, and i'm yours." seokmin's voice is nothing more than a seductive whisper as he presses another kiss to your trembling lips, promising you everything before he kisses you some more.

and as seokmin lays you down on the couch, bare stomach revealed with seokmin's lavender chapstick staining your warm body, your shallow breath quickening, you realize that he truly meant what he said to you earlier.

you were all his. all his and no one else's.

[blue-jisungs]

[ 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 ] kiss attack

# author’s note … i dunno pookies just a random thought inspired by the first pic ^^

# summary … surprising them with kisses OR pepper kisssonf their faces (out of the blue, mostly hehe)

# warnings ... some members might be suggestive if u squint, some r longer than others, not proofread (bare w me bc i wrote this in a car during multiple ocasions in my notes app w/o autocorrect so ! :D i know u love me guys heheheh)

┆彡 SEUNGCHEOL [ 승철 ]

coming home late from yet another photo shoot, cheol desired nothing more than a warm bed and falling asleep with you in his arms. he tries to be as quiet as possible when entering your shared home, aware that you’re probably asleep. and his leader instincts are correct, the place drowning in midnight darkness. taking his shoes off, slipping into fresh pajamas, slowly but surely dipping into the mattress… and home, he’s finally home. your sleeping silhouette is drawn next to him, only slightly lit up by the moonlight peeking through the window. just when he sneaks his arms around you and closes his eyes, ready to drift asleep, your body moves suddenly and there’s a quick but deep peck landing on his lips. then, as if nothing happened, you roll on the other side and curl into him. seungcheol feels his heart grow and fill with warmth as he falls asleep with a smile blooming on his lips and pink dusted on his cheeks.

┆彡 WONWOO [ 원우 ]

"hey, wonu?" you ask and peek your head through the door, only to notice him being busy with a video game.

"give me a sec!" your boyfriend hums and the only thing you can see are the flashing lights and images on his screen "is it important?"

"no, not really" you answer and walk up to him, noticing that he has one of his headphones off his ear to hear you. a habit he developed ever since you moved in "i mean, depends how you look at it"

wonwoo turns around to check up on you and then you attack. cupping his face quickly and planting a sweet kiss on his plush lips.

"bye!" you giggle and run away, leaving him frozen in place. he’s too stunned to speak and too flustered to move, heart beating like crazy and stomach filling with butterflies.

"hey, dude, come on! we’re losing because of you!" someone whines in the voice chat and wonwoo takes a glance at the door, where you were moments ago. with a whipped grin plastered on his lips he shakes his head and returns to the pleasantly interrupted game.

┆彡 MINGYU [ 민규 ]

mingyu was cooking dinner peacefully, focused on his task. mingyu’s engagement in the kitchen was no joke, multitasking and executing the recipe on spot. which is why he didn’t hear nor see you entering his work space. better yet, he didn’t acknowledge your waltzing in and wrapping your hands around his waist. only when you gave him it a little squeeze. your man turned around, shocked pout on his face. to be fair, you didn’t want to disturb him. but pouty mingyu was just too adorable not to kiss - so you did, gently but quickly; his lips tasting like the vegetables he was cooking (and snacking on).

"what was that for…?" he hummed and wanted to kiss you properly but you leaned away, resting your cheek against his broad shoulders.

"nothing" you mumbled incoherently and he came back to cooking, not noticing he just added too much salt.

┆彡 VERNON [ 버논 ]

you would think vernon is asleep at the first glance. laying in bed, one hand on his stomach and the other under his head. his eyes were closed and face was resting, chest rising up and down slowly. but occasionally he’d reach and scratch his nose. he was listening to a podcast with his headphones in. and something just possessed you, it was like you had to cover his cute face with kisses or you’d - not to be dramatic - explode. you climbed on top of him, cupping his face slowly. vernon didn’t even budge. then you started gently pepper-kissing his face, planting kisses on the most random places. your plush lips tickled him a bit but he didn’t really mind; just when you were done but still holding his face, he peeked an eye open.

"everything okay?" vernon asked. you just nodded and placed one more kiss on top of his nose, then left to continue with your day.

┆彡 SOONYOUNG [ 순영 ]

"yah, kwon soonyoung!" your yell echoed through the practice room, causing all the members to halt. the said criminal turned with his eyes widened in pure terror. his mind raced with thoughts: did he forget something? did he do something? or didn’t do? recalling events from this morning, he failed to notice when you stormed right at him.

"i’m sorry i’m sorry im sorry–" he started whining, eyes scanning your face in search of bad signs but he saw a flash of mischievous smirk on your lips.

"you forgot this" you hummed and pecked his lips quickly with a loud 'mwah!' and ran away, giggling.

"that woman is crazy. she’s making me crazy. actually, we’re both maniacs" soonyoung murmured, touching his lips. his friends shared a laugh, looking at his whipped state.

┆彡 JUNHUI [ 文俊辉 ]

"hey, sleepyhead, wake up!" you whine as you tug jun’s shirt for the millionth time in the span of three minutes. your boyfriend decided to take a nap before you leave to the planned date but apparently he wasn’t keen on waking up. "jun!"

he mumbles something you can’t quite decipher and turns to his back, soft snores escaping his parted lips.

"fine" you sigh and straddle him, pepper-kissing his face. with each kiss landing on his features, you feel his smile grow. once you brush just against the corner of his lips, his smile is way too wide to pretend he’s still sleeping.

"you did that on purp–" you start but aren’t meant to finish because junhui’s large hands grab your face and pull you in a real, deep and passionate kiss.

well, you take that as a yes.

┆彡 MINGHAO [ 徐明浩 ]

whenever minghao was meditating, you avoided to disturb him. not to lose balance and be able to focus… you closed the door and waited until he was done. but today you just couldn’t bare a second without him, your heart longing to be in his presence (even though you live together). hao had his eyes closed, focused on his breathing. but he did hear the soft click of door opening and then the sound of your food paddling against the floor. you tried to keep your volume down, certain that he did not hear you. before he could expose you, there was a series of kisses attacking his face. the feeling of your lips against his skin was pleasant but made him lose focus completely. before he could realize, you were already running off, giggling. minghao opened his eyes and looked around, shocked, and with the tips of his ears painted with red shade.

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

chan was sitting on the sofa, brows slightly furrowed and concentration all over his face. his slim fingers were typing at the speed of light, discussing something with his members. normally you’d think it’s something important but to be honest, you knew them too well. they were simply arguing what to eat for lunch tomorrow.

you were watching him, smiling subconsciously; he still made your stomach swirl with butterflies as if you were a teenage girl with her doorway crush.

and the feeling was just too strong to resist, you just had to kiss him.

so you got up and stood in front of him, not aware of your presence yet.

with a quick lean, you pressed a tender, loving kiss onto his plush lips. chan froze, fingers halting mid-air. he kissed you back and leaned away with a puzzled look.

"what was that for…?" he whispered, blinking slowly.

"nothing. you’re just cute" you answered with a shrug and sat down next to him, opening instagram. chan, a little flustered, reassumed the lunch dispute

┆彡 JEONGHAN [ 정한 ]

"you’re cheating!" jeonghan whines, a pout forming on his lips. you sigh, shaking your head with the cards in your hands.

"just because my cards are good doesn’t mean i’m chaeating… unlike you, sneaky fox" you snickered and put another card on top of his. maybe you should’ve known that playing uno with him won’t end well but in the end, jeonghan is passionate about winning in every game.

"that’s literally not possible, how come you have three cards left and i have like… thirteen?!" jeonghan puffs his cheeks and places a green one card "i hate this–"

you lean over the stack of cards and shut him up with a slightly aggressive kiss, nibbling on his bottom lip with a smug smirk.

you can hear him sigh softly and kiss you back. before he can realize, you put down your three colored ones and lean away, patting your things.

"uno… and, well, also no uno since i won" you smirked and jeonghan was left speechless, mouth open wide. whether you cheated or not during the game, it was an impressive win.

"no… but… that’s, that’s– that was cheating!" he whines again but this time only to make you laugh again.

┆彡 JOSHUA [ 조슈아 ]

joshua was still half asleep when he was brushing his teeth, his hair sticking in every direction possible and eyes half closed… struggling to keep his head stable.

you just looked at him through the mirror, smiling at your boyfriend’s drowsy state.

"do we have to get up so early…" he mumbled, barely audible due to the foam in his mouth.

"you booked the flight so early, not me" you chuckled and finished applying cream onto your face. you had to leave soon if you wanted to be at the airport early.

joshua answered something incoherent and spat out the toothpaste, washing his mouth with water.

he blinked slowly and caught your gaze in the mirror.

you just smiled and turned around, cupping his face. then you started peppering his face with gentle kisses everywhere: cheeks, forehead, nose, eyelids. and finally, his peppermint tasting lips.

"awake yet, sleepyhead?" you titled your head with a gentle smile and joshua nodded, a lazy smirk on his lips "good. i’ll make us breakfast then"

and when you left the bathroom, he realized he’d really feeling more awake.

┆彡 JIHOON [ 지훈 ]

jihoon had his headphones on so he wasn’t able to hear you but he did certainly see you. a small smile painted on his lips as he was observing you pacing around the gym. while he was busy curling his arms, you were bored out of your mind and there was nothing to aggravate your boredom. it’s not like you didn’t like accompanying him to the gym and watching him work out; no, quite the contrary. it’s just that he was in his space and there was nothing interesting to do besides watching him. you peeked at him in the mirror and caught his eye on you. then, your gaze slid to his arms.

"hey, my eyes are up here"

your gaze snapped back to him and his cocky smile. heat rose to your cheeks upon being caught. you had to shut him up.

"i know you’re bored but–" jihoon started, probably to tease you, but was interrupted by your lips meeting his. he almost dropped the dumbbell he was holding but came back to reality once he couldn’t feel the plush of your lips no longer. "what was that…?"

"go back to working out, smartass" you snickered and watched him be the flustered one now.

┆彡 SEOKMIN [ 석민 ]

"and then chan came out, fully dressed as pi cheolin! i swear, the sound of carats’ laughter made my day" dokyeom rambled. even though your back was facing him, you could still feel the gentle shake of the mattress due to his dynamic gesturing

"and i couldn’t help but laugh too! our chan is just so talented, maybe he should start an acting career! because i swear, it’s like… chan is gone and pi ch–"

as much as you loved dokyeom’s voice, whether talking, singing or laughing, you just wanted to doze off after an exhausting day. but he just wouldn’t stop talking.

"–possessed him! i swear i think my ribs got fractured after laughing so hard, he was just so into it–"

seokmin suddenly felt your lips crushing on his. the taste of your toothpaste exploded on his tongue, freezing on spot due to the passion of your kiss. it felt like eternity but in a good way; he kissed you back until he couldn’t breathe anymore. you noticed that and pulled away, this time facing him and burying your face into his side.

"i love you, kyeom, but for the love of mine please go to sleep" you murmured softly and he fell silent. not only because you told him to, also because his huge grin prevented him from further talking.

┆彡 SEUNGKWAN [ 승관 ]

"what a beautiful view…" seungkwan let out a deep sigh, looking amazed at the panoramic in front of him. you were holding his hand and admiring it too.

it was a random tuesday afternoon and you decided to go on a hike on a nearby hill. and even though it was exhausting, it was worth it. pallets of greens and yellows sprung in front of your eyes, blurring with the cloudless, blue sky.

"this one is more beautiful tho" you hummed suddenly. seungkwan turned around to see what did you mean but you just pecked his lips and squeezed his hand with a cheeky smile.

"that was so cheesy…" he rolled his eyes and while you turned again to adore the nature, his eyes stayed glued to your face with amused smile.

masterlist <3

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,,

@weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @rubywonu ,, @mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee ,, @haecien