#Dokyeom x reader
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sillyuin · 18 days ago
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Seokmin as boyfriend
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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
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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.
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highvern · 4 months ago
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Totally Scrooged
Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader
Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut
warnings:  alcohol consumption, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), protected sex, lots of crying, mentions of cheating (not reader or seokmin), theater nerd Seokmin
Length: ~16k
Note: I was hoping to post this way earlier but alas. I got sick back to back over the holidays. ANYWAYS thank u my sweet @gyuswhore for beta reading and talking me down from the edge and @miniseokminnies for all the theater knowledge. And @ugh-yoongi bc words are hard. CHECK OUT the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios and keep an eye for our next project
summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.
collab m.list || m.list
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.
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Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.
At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.
Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson. 
After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.
In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.” 
They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially. 
She’s like my sister.
Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.
It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them. 
Your friends text you how much of a jerk he is, a few call but you ignore them. All you want is to wallow in self pity.
Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.
It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.
Assholes.
Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. 
Shot number seven empties the bottle.
Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”
It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.
“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.
Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.
In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.
You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.
Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.
Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.
He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze make deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.
Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”
“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”
“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”
It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark? 
Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”
Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.
“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”
Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”
“Stupid shit,” he says. “Why are you crying?”
You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. While most people preferred not to be humiliated via social media, it showed his true colors and firmly shut the door. But sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people who deserved it. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know. 
Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of losing even the tightest lips.
“My ex got engaged.”
His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity. 
“Do you wanna come in?”
You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flights are delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.
Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad. 
But you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving were ungodly expensive.
Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.
You say yes, following him inside.
Mr. Neighbor’s apartment is similar to yours; mirrors the layout of your cramped one bedroom except with neutral colors and a lot more decor. The couch divides the living area from the kitchen. Comfy blankets and pillows littered around. Someone actually lives here, unlike your place where the most personalized thing is fridge magnets. You didn’t feel the need to decorate an apartment you didn’t see yourself staying in very long. Even if it’d been almost a year and the lease renewal sat on your countertop, signed and ready to drop off at the leasing office.
He walks into the kitchen, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while he fishes in the cabinet for something. You sink into one of the leather barstools and watch as he pours water from a pitcher in the sink and slides it across the counter.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
You drink it all in one go while he waits, sobering up enough to realize how embarrassing this all is. You’re drunk, in your mysterious neighbor's kitchen, crying about your ex-boyfriend. But he was drunk, listening to one of the most depressing songs in history, crying about “stupid shit.” Mutually assured destruction. 
“We only broke up at Christmas last year.”
“And he’s already engaged?”
“To his best friend.”
At that, Mr. Neighbor procures another glass and pours a little bit of whiskey before presenting it to you. “That’s rough.”
This time, you don’t even wince when you swallow.
He stares, waiting for some sort of reply, tipping the bottle into his own cup but not drinking it just yet. Now that he only has one face instead of four, your face heats. Drunk, sad and a little horny because he has really nice hands, and an even better face.
You tug your phone out and push it across the counter as a distraction for you both. Not that he probably needs it, you’re a wreck. “Here look at this picture.”
Mr. Neighbor scrolls through each picture methodically. Zooming in on strangers he doesn’t even know. Mouthing the caption in silent horror. In effort not to stare at his fingers, you focus on everything else in his apartment. 
His fridge is covered in magnets and take out menus, but mixed into the collage are pictures. Photobooth strips in black and white, some large normal photos better suited for a frame. You’re too far away to decipher any of it but curiosity itches you to get a closer look. Postcards from different places, sport theme magnets. Baseball seems to be his favorite.
“He proposed to her at a Turkey Trot?” he says, like the idea is incredibly alien.
“Their families have done it since they were born. Like their moms ran it pregnant and pushed them in strollers until they could keep up.”
“That is….”
You laugh. “Insane.”
“I’m glad you said it,” he chuckles. “Who proposes after running a marathon?”
“I know!” you cry.
You tip the bottle of whiskey into your once again empty mug. There will be hell to pay in the morning but you need something to do to distract from the way your heart pinches at the sound of his laugh. The sad drunk stage is tapering into the horny drunk stage and you really don’t need to ask your nameless neighbor if he wants to make out on his couch. Although, it looks leagues comfier than the second hand lump sitting a wall over. Drinking any more will only make it worse but you need something to do with your hands that doesn’t involve touching him, or thinking about touching him.
He circles the counter and takes the barstool next to yours. Close enough you can feel the heat from his body, the smell of soap and citrus faintly tickling your nose. You want to dive into his shirt and breathe it in until you fall asleep. 
Mr. Neighbor is just a decently attractive man that has been overly generous with his time and not been a creep. That is the only reason why your brain is latching onto him right now; you know it. In a few hours, when your head hangs limp over the toilet bowl, you’ll regret this entire interaction and even more if you make it weird.
You balk, rushing away from the thought and looking for a distraction. “I’m not like…pining over him, if that's what you’re wondering. It just sucks seeing your ex who was staunchly against any long term commitment make it clear he was only against long term commitment with you.”
Mr. Neighbor seems to believe you. So many of your friends thought you harbored feelings for Sam this long after the break up but the truth is, you almost expected things to end. Not on Christmas with nothing but a text message, but it always felt like you and Sam had one foot out of the relationship. The end brought certainty and for that you almost felt relieved.
“If it’s any help, I don’t think it was a ‘you’ problem.”
For a second, you want to believe he actually believes that. He’s not just saying it because he’s being nice and letting you cry in his kitchen and drink his booze. Everything about Mr. Neighbor screams PERPETUALLY NICE. Like he saves kittens from trees and walks old ladies across the street in his spare time.
“You don’t even know me.”
“No, but he’s the one that kept you around while waiting for someone else. Sounds like an asshole to me,” he says.
“He is an asshole,” you whisper like a secret. Mr. Neighbor smiles back and you remember you don’t know his name.
He tells you without a shred of judgment.
“Seokmin.”
“I’m YN.”
“I know,” he blurts. His ears tinge pink just before his cheeks. “You had a friend come over one time, she yelled it pretty loud.”
Lydia only had two settings when talking: loud, and louder. Seokmin probably knew a lot more than just your name but was too polite to mention those sordid details.
“So, Seokmin. My drama aside, why were you crying? Or do you listen to depressing music to pregame a wild night out?”
Seokmin nods at your offer to top off his cup and chugs half of it with a wince.
“It feels kinda dumb now but I volunteer at the city theater downtown.”
That explains the framed playbills and theater tickets splashed across the living room walls. A story of all the productions he probably attended or participated in. You only recognized a few of the names. Perpetually Nice, indeed.
“Did one of them dump pig's blood on you while on stage?”
“No, nothing like that.” His mouth unzips into an amused grin. It looks much more fitting than the tears from earlier. “The director won a month-long European cruise and now I’m in charge of the winter production.”
What do people even do on a boat for that long?
“And I’m assuming you don’t want to be the director.”
“I did!” he groans. “But everyone is already emailing me and calling me, trying to bribe me into giving them bigger parts. Have you ever dealt with theater parents?”
Shaking your head, Seokmin grabs your hand with wide, terrified eyes. “They’re like dance moms on crack. I can’t handle it. Not to mention - surprise! - there’s no money for it and I have to do all the fundraising myself.”
Instead of responding, you fill each cup with another generous shot, clink glasses, and swallow them in tandem. The burn is long gone. Now, you feel like you're standing in the ocean, bobbing at the mercy of the waves as he keeps talking about the theater. How someone held him hostage after a meeting for an extra thirty minutes trying to convince him they didn’t need to audition. Someone else proposed an original production of Dracula as a break from the holiday slush every other theater planned. It glides right over your head, until he forces a glass of water into your grip.
“Sorry about my music,” he says.
“Sorry for being a bitch.”
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“Your ex also broke up with you for their childhood best friend?”
“No. The last one broke up with me for her dog walker.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, well he’s bald now.” He shrugs and takes another swig. Water not whiskey by the lack of grimace. “She’s also trying to audition.”
At least you have the privilege of watching your ex’s new courtship through the filter of social media. Seokmin is watching it play out a few feet away from him with a constant reminder that his ex-girlfriend was onto seemingly better things with a man who picked up dog shit for a living. Small mercies.
“How long have you two…” you trail off.
“Three months.”
His tone makes it clear there is nothing else he wishes to share on the matter. You get it. Three months after Sam you weren’t ready to talk about it, still kept all the shared memories you two had together in one of the boxes shoved deep in the hall closet. It wasn’t until nearly eight months passed that you finally donated what you could of the gifts he bought you and threw the other half away. Now, you can laugh at the way you sobbed over the ugly monogrammed dish towels from your shared apartment. When his mom gifted them for your birthday, the first thought you had was to burn them. 
“So what’s your play?”
Seokmin looks grateful for the swift change in topic. “A Christmas Carol.”
“Never seen it.”
“What?” he gasps. “It’s a classic!”
Below the counter, his knee presses firmly against your thigh. Seokmin doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because it stays there. Warm and grounded and all too tempting but you don’t move away either. A trickle of embarrassment heats your body when you realize you’re wearing the pajama pants Lydia got you for Secret Santa last year. The ones with cartoon gingerbread people fucking in small print all over them. If Seokmin looked down he’d see them in flagrante.
It didn’t mean anything but it felt nice. No way he saw your frumpy clothes and puffy face, crying over your ex and thought I want a piece of that. Typically, drinking only had two paths. On a normal night, you’d go from pleasantly buzzed to “wooo girl drunk,” as Lydia put it, then horny drunk shortly before falling asleep. Tonight, crying drunk meant no woo-ing and definitely no inappropriate thoughts. But Seokmin is the first real man to stoke a tiny ember of interest in months. 
It’d be messy. Not the act itself. Maybe. You’re tipsy and he doesn’t look any better but a sloppy makeout wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. However, making out with your neighbor and then dealing with the fall out of such a clumsy entanglement probably wasn’t worth whatever his hands were capable of.
So you snuff it out.
You shrug. “Not really a big Christmas person.”
“I would invite you to come see it but at this rate I doubt we’ll even have a show to begin with.”
You discover that given the chance, Seokmin talks a lot. Shares his entire life story about moving to the city with a group of friends from college, most of them living with their partners. How he found the theater while on lunch break from his job that he didn’t hate but didn’t like. Started volunteering. Met Martha, now ex-girlfriend, there. 
He also asks question after question about you, and somehow it doesn’t feel like he’s prying even though he hardly shares about himself. Probably because you’ve reached sleepy drunk and your eyes drop shut, responding while half asleep. You tell him everything. It’s not like you can embarrass yourself any further. But Seokmin doesn't make you feel the slightest bit of shame.
How you met Sam at a friend’s wedding and Carson was his plus one. How Carson’s boyfriends never seemed to meet Sam’s standards. How she was a little too friendly towards you but Sam swore Carson liked everyone. And from your experience, everyone liked her. Then, last Christmas, you stayed at home with the flu while the annual Phan/Spencer celebration took place and woke up to a nice heartfelt text message.
“That’s so fucked up.”
“Yeah, well what’s even more fucked up is his mom posting a picture of her with Carson captioned ‘the daughter I always wanted.’” you huff. “That really sucked.”
Seokmin doesn’t say anything. Not that he can. How do you comfort a stranger about a shitty relationship with even more beneath the surface? 
Instead, you both sit in comfortable silence, locked in separate trains of thought. It isn’t until he messes with his phone and Celine Dion materializes into the room once again that you realize how weird it is to be sitting there, sharing woes with a complete stranger.
“Well, I’m just gonna…” you start, sliding off the bar stool.
“Yeah…”
You don’t look back, making a beeline for the door. “Have a goodnight! I hope you aren’t eaten by steroid fueled theater nerds.”
You’re in the hallway, lock latched firmly behind, before he can respond.
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You don’t see Seokmin for another week. Not like you saw him much before but now you have a name to the face, along with hobbies and a personality. And his hands. Which don’t seem to leave your memory despite the desperate effort you put into doing so.
Even if you don’t see him though, you hear him on the other side of your living room wall shuffling around when you get home from work. 
He keeps his sad playlist to a minimum, and his singing about the same, flat rumbles through the shared wall you can easily ignore. Sometimes you don’t. Occasionally, you’ll pause whatever Netflix dating show poisoning your brain and listen, eyes closed as your mind wanders.
You hear him humming as he passes your door on the way out to work in the morning while you sip coffee and answer emails from your kitchen counter. Sometimes it's showtunes you don’t recognize, others it's Christmas carols. Seokmin has a lovely voice you realize, now free from irritation. It’s weird you never noticed before.
Apparently, Lydia noticed him long before you did.
You finish telling her about the entire debacle with Sam and Carson. Lydia doesn’t believe in social media of any kind so all of her life updates come over Bananagrams and face masks during your semi-weekly Thursday girl’s night at her apartment.
“You just hang out with your hot neighbor drunk and don’t make a move?” she tsks.
“How do you know my neighbor is hot?”
“Unlike you, I pay attention to my surroundings.” 
Part of the reason she deleted all her social media was because she wanted to be more ‘in the moment.’ This proves that maybe it actually worked. 
Grabbing more letter tiles, you brush off the taunt. “Well, unlike you, I can keep it in my pants.”
“How long has it been since you let someone under the hood?”
“Not that long,” you grumble.
“Really?” Lydia rolls her eyes at the next word you spell, S-A-D. 
“Shut up. It was the only one I could find.” You take another sip of hot cider. The hangover from last week's bender still haunts you. “Horny isn’t spelled with an ‘I’ or an ‘E’.”
“It’s been so long I thought you’d forget how it's spelled.”
A few hours and a couple of episodes of Temptation Island later, you're back home. The chilly air creeps into the mailroom, numb fingers struggling to unlock your mailbox. Bill. bill, catalogue, not yours, bill…
As the elevator carries you up to your floor, you find the last letter. A gold wax seal, velvety envelope. No. No, no, no, no, no.
But it is real and it’s exactly what you’re afraid for it to be when you rip it open right there in the hallway. The picture of Carson and Sam staring deep into each other’s eyes, love-soaked down to the finest details. His hand on her knee, both oblivious to the camera and not in the faux staged way of so many wedding announcements. 
Michael and Dena Spencer along with 
Jason and Zoya Phan 
Invite you to celebrate the marriage of their children,
Samuel Spencer and Carson Phan
You fling the card away like a venomous snake. 
What the hell is wrong with them? Is it not enough you were the collateral damage in their whirlwind romance? Now they go and rub it in your face how happy they are together. You were the last obstacle to make them realize they couldn’t live without each other, the catalyst for their happiness. And now you have a tangible reminder of the fact.
Thankfully, the hallway is empty so no one witnesses your mental breakdown. A silent stand off with a glossy wedding announcement. You’re tempted to leave it there, let Sam and Carson get trodded on until they’re nothing but limp confetti. 
But you can’t. You snatch the announcement from the floor and bolt to your door, key scraping the lock again and again. You just need to get inside. Get inside and then you can go DEFCON 1, shred the entire letter and do something else rash like give yourself bangs you’ll regret in the morning.
The key still won’t find home in the lock and you’re on the verge of giving up when you realize Seokmin is singing along to some record just a few feet away.
You don’t know him well enough to go banging on his door. One drunken bitch session did not a friend make. Even if the drunk bitch session involved recounting life stories and embarrassing childhood moments. Or pajamas with gingerbread people fucking which he definitely noticed.
But you can’t be left alone with this bomb.
Seokmin is standing before you barely a second after knocking, eyebrows scrunched together. You shove the invite into his chest and wait.
“How does he have your address?” he asks.
You shrug. “I made him mail most of my stuff.”
“Why?” Seokmin turns back into his apartment, the door open in invitation as he falls onto the couch.
“Because he cheated on me. The least I could get was him paying three hundred bucks in shipping.”
“You are a very scary woman.”
You follow. This time, you notice more details. His record player is tucked in the corner, crates of vinyl stacked next to it. The candle burning on the coffee table fills the room with the scent of teak and orange. You recognize it as the same one Lydia got you for your birthday; ‘the boyfriend scent’ as she called it. Of course, he’d have it.
“Thank you.”
Now that you’re here, you’re not sure what to do. Seokmin keeps looking at the invite like some puzzle. Like some underlying explanation is written in invisible ink. There isn’t one. The reason for the invite is clear: your feelings don’t matter and they never did. 
“I can’t believe they sent you a wedding invite. That’s so fucked up.”
“I’m probably gonna see all the pictures on Instagram soon anyway. At least, this ripped the band aid off. It just sucks they get to rub it in my face.”
“You still follow them, do they follow you?”
They do. Carson and Sam both follow you but you haven’t posted a single picture since the break up so it’s not like they’re reminded of your presence. Not the same way they remind you. There hasn’t been much worth posting either. You go to work, come home, shower, sleep, repeat. The occasional weekend at the farmers market or trip to the bookstore breaks up the monotony don’t inspire you to post. 
“Why?” you ask.
“You want something to rub in their faces.”
“And what exactly would that be?”
“Is there anything he hated doing while you guys dated?”
You laugh at the irony of the one thing Sam hated more than anything else. “He hated being posted on social media.”
“I have an idea.”
“Does it involve more Celine Dion and whiskey?”
“No,” he smiles. “It’s called a ‘soft launch'. One of the high schoolers explained it to me today.”
“Why are you talking to highschoolers about relationships? Actually, nevermind.” You snatch the invite away from his hands and flip it face down onto the couch. “And what is the point of me soft launching a nonexistent relationship?”
“He sent you a wedding invitation.”
“Okay?”
“So he’s either insane or isn’t completely over you. This is a way to show him you don’t care.”
“He broke up with me on Christmas while I was dying of the stomach flu. I don’t think he cares.”
Seokmin rises from the couch and heads towards the kitchen. “Do you want some wine?”
“Just water.”
He’s wearing the same costume as last week, sweatpants and a sweater. But his hair is a little wet and falls over his glasses. The look, the boyfriend candle, everything Lydia suggested… You should go home before making an idiot of yourself.
Seokmin returns with two glasses, places them both on the coffee table before tossing you a blanket. How can you leave now? It’d be rude. Besides, you want to find out where his offer is going.
“As I was saying: soft launch.”
“I still don’t understand where this is going.”
“You post it on your story, he sees, feels like a huge idiot, and then—”
“And then what? I don’t want him back.” But the thought of making Sam squirm is a validating one. Let him see you the way he’s forced you to see him. Happily moved on with someone else. Even if it isn’t real. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”
It’s an easy photo. In theory. Nothing too suggestive, nothing that shows his face. But should you be touching? How much touching is appropriate for a man you’ve talked to twice? Seokmin doesn’t seem to know either. He searches the internet for inspo, some far too intimate for you to dream of. Sitting on his lap? Absolutely not. Having him hold you around the waist? No way. None of it would be believable.
“Okay, what about this one?” he asks after twenty minutes of scrolling.
On the surface, it’s nothing bad. The picture is relatively innocent with Person A’s legs draped over Person B’s lap, hand placed on Person A’s shin. Nothing crazy. At this point, you just want it over with.
“Fine.”
You wore semi-decent sweatpants this time so you don’t worry about that. It’s the entire premise of touching Seokmin so casually and having him touch you in return. But you take it in stride as you both maneuver and twist until you're a perfect copy of the already existing image.
Opening the camera on your phone, you snap a pic and hand it to Seokmin for approval.
“Eh…”
“‘Eh’? What does ‘eh’ mean?”
Apparently, ‘eh’ means Seokmin is wrapping his entire hand around your knee, the other hand on your ankle, and pulling you closer until your butt rests flush against the outside of his thigh. And then he doesn’t move either hand while waiting for you to snap a new picture. It feels like a thousand  pounds.
When you’re done, he leans over to assess the photo and you’re stuck with the image of him hovering over you. The picture goes up on your story, embellished with a heart emoji and Seokmin leaves your space but only barely.
“Should I RSVP too?” you joke. It’s weak, your voice thin because you don’t know if he can tell your sweating. 
He leaves even more space between you at that, scratching the back of his neck. “Ugh—”
“I wouldn’t actually go but I like the idea of them wasting money.”
“You know what? Do it. Did they give you a plus one?”
You jolt at the idea of Seokmin filling in the role. Focus. 
Their wedding site is filled with Pinterest inspiration level engagement photos. You ignore the fact it’s at the park Sam took you to for your first date. You don’t own Emerald Park, or the fountain in the background of their pictures where you and Sam first kissed, and you certainly didn’t own the botanical gardens frozen around them as they walked hand in hand. Hundreds of other couples, you and Sam included, visited Emerald Park all the time. It just feels tacky they would do a full photoshoot where half a dozen of your relationship landmarks lay. But Carson probably owned those spots well before you came into the picture.
Once you hit ‘Yes’ on the RVSP, including your fake plus one, things peter out into awkward silence. You’re still draped over Seokmin’s lap, his hands absentmindedly running up your shin, smoothing the wrinkles in your pants.
Who gets turned on from having their shin fondled?
“How is your play going?” you ask.
“Not horrible.”
“But?”
“Our sets are old, we don’t have costumes and we open in three weeks.” 
Seokmin seems to be in the acceptance stage of his grief. At least he isn’t wailing any more Now That’s What I Call Depressing music.
“So it’s not too late for that space idea then?”
He cracks up at that and you feel glowy from the sound of his laugh, the way his chest shakes. He squeezes your ankle. You preen. He still has his hand on your knee, thumb burning uneven circles through the thick fabric.
“I don’t know if anyone wants to see Scrooge in a space suit.”
“Who?”
Seokmin takes the question as a personal affront and decides you can’t leave his apartment without watching at least one version of A Christmas Carol. 
You try not to read into things but there aren’t many explanations available. The TV plays the animated version with Jim Carry starring in almost every role which is apparently second only to the muppets version.. Seokmin popped popcorn. And when he came back to the couch, he pulled your legs back over his lap like it was normal. You’re rusty on dating but the amount of times your hand brushes his in the popcorn bowl is starting to border on ridiculous.
Instead of focusing on how this feels a lot like a date, you focus on the movie. Or try to. It helps that Seokmin remains unaware of your inner turmoil, he’s too busy gauging whether you hate or love the movie and looking for your reaction every time one of the ghosts appears. 
The angle isn’t conducive to watching the movie either. You can’t turn without straining your neck, unless you pull away from his hold which you don’t want to do at all. And Seokmin is so focused on your reactions that he isn’t catching much of the film either.
He clearly loves it, and wants you to love it too. So you act extra interested but it’s not difficult because clearly he sees something spectacular happening on screen and it makes you eager to see it too. Even if only to distract from his thumb slipping beneath your sock and circling the knob of your ankle.
The movie fades to black, Scrooge is redeemed and your neighbor is watching you with bated breath.
“So…”
You smile at his eagerness. “It was good.”
“Isn’t it? It’s a classic.”
Something about his sheer enthusiasm tugs at your heart strings. 
“I’ll help you.”
Everything in your body screeches WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
Seokmin must think the same thing, face slack in disbelief. Too late, you’ve already committed. 
“My company is always throwing money at stuff during the holidays,” you rush, face heating. “Maybe they could sponsor you guys to help with the sets or something.”
He keeps staring and you keep talking because you’re not sure if this crosses some invisible line. Unlike the touching, or the picture, or the ugly crying last week. Slowly, amazement rooted on his face.  Even in your rumpled clothes, he looks at you like you’ve dropped nothing short of a miracle in his lap.
In a flurry of motion, Seokmin drags you into a hug, arms tight around your back, crushing you into his chest. The baggy sweaters you’d seen him in all of once hid firm ridges of muscle. You try not to indulge but your hands are wedged tightly between your bodies, and you’re practically sitting in his lap at this point. 
And as fast as it happened, he lets you go and nearly flings himself off the opposite end of the couch. 
“Sorry! I just—” His head cocked to the side. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated—”
“I love taking money from people who don’t need it. It’s one of the few joys in my life actually,” you say. “And if they don’t sign a check, we can always try armed robbery. Do you own a ski mask?”
He pretends to think before smiling. “Funnily enough, I don’t. But something tells me you do.”
“A woman never reveals her secrets.”
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The next few days pass uneventfully. You hear Seokmin come home later and later, pointedly aware that you’re aware of his coming and going. Occasionally, when it’s still early, he knocks an odd rhythm on the wall separating your living rooms and you learn it's a summons. He wants to watch a movie, or share dinner because he made too much, or hear something about your day that didn’t involve a six year old attempting an accent for their character and sounding like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. 
Even when you give him your number, he still knocks. Everytime you fight the urge to squeal like you’re back in high school.
The show is going as well as it can. People have their parts (with minimal complaining). Most of the costumes are free of mold (he sent you pictures wearing half the wardrobe). And Seokmin is maintaining his sanity. Barely.
In the rush of it all, you made a promise not to fuck where you eat. One messy break up requiring a move was enough for a lifetime. While Lydia took every update as another sign he was into you, the risk was too much. What if you misread everything? What if Seokmin wasn’t completely over his ex-girlfriend? She hadn’t come up again since that first night but that didn’t mean anything. At that stage of your break-up you hardly talked about Sam. Maybe Seokmin was still pining for her and you were just there. Or vice versa. He could see you were having a difficult time with the engagement and offered a shoulder to cry on.
Even worse, what if you did sleep with him and it was bad. So bad you could never look him in the eye again. Or he could have a weird dick. Or cry after sex. What if he secretly had a piss kink and that was the real reason Marta broke up with him? The lack of red flags only point to some flaw below the surface you hadn’t learned about yet.
Lydia thought it was ridiculous.
“I will bet my first edition Hobbit that his dick is completely normal,” she huffs through the speaker, the sound of her stationary bike echoing in the background.
Your Friday nights are usually spent curled up on the couch with wine and a movie but you couldn’t wait to give Seokmin the envelope containing a metaphorical golden ticket. The downtown streets are crowded near the theater where the entire cast and crew are spending the evening polishing up the existing set pieces but you brave it, if only to see the look on his face at the number of zeroes on the check.
“You just want me to sleep with him.”
“Is it so wrong I want my best friend to sleep with a nice, attractive man? Do you know how rare those are in this city?”
Your eyes roll. “He is my neighbor.”
“Your hot neighbor. Who has a normal dick and listens to Celine Dion when he’s sad.”
Something stopped you from telling her about the picture, and how Seokmin stayed cuddled up to you the rest of the night. Probably because you know she’d add it to the mounting pile of reasons to ruin whatever tentative friendship built between you. 
You find a parking spot and bid Lydia goodbye.
The building lobby, with sleek marble archways and a dusty chandelier the size of your living room, is empty sans a lone security guard scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t try to stop you as you stroll right past and into the auditorium. You don’t want to be a creep that watches from the dark but the sight of your neighbor stops you in your tracks. To hear about his work was one thing, however, seeing him in his element is another. 
He’s got paint all over his shirt and jeans and his hair is a mess from running his hands through it but he addresses the entire cast with confidence. Answers their questions, points the crew in the right direction, scans his binder next to someone with a headset who must be important. 
Everyone is caught up in their work so they don’t notice as you approach from the aisles, footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. You’ve never been here before but the history of the building isn’t lost on you. The walls and ceiling stretch high above, intricate moldings weaving up to frame large murals of greek-style motifs. The cushioned seats had seen better days. Red velvet crushed flat, ripped seams and stained with time. But it has a charm to it.
It was easy to imagine Seokmin finding home in this place. Losing himself on stage, spending hours and hours hidden away with a script.
He finally notices your presence when you approach one of the side stage staircases.
“And what do I owe the honor?” he asks, lips unzipping into a grin you can’t help but return.
You wave the white envelope in response, bowing comically low. “I come bearing a gift.”
“Is that—“
You nod solemnly, forcing it into his hands. “Open it!”
Seokmin stares at the envelope the same way he stared at you the night you offered to help him out. A small miracle in the palm of his hand. Your boss signed the check without question. It was a good look to sponsor local events, great publicity and a tax write off. The second you mentioned there were children in the cast and it was volunteer only he doubled the donation.
Seokmin opens the envelope, pausing to read. His eyes bulge. “Two grand? Are you serious?”
“Yep. All it took was the promise of two pages in the back of the program. So if you could get that message passed along.”
He hasn’t looked away from the check as a flush rises up his neck. “I’ll get their logo tattooed on my forehead if they want.”
“Tried that…” you joke. “They went up to two thousand with the promise you wouldn’t..”
“This is…” 
You’re swept into a hug tight enough to pop something in your back. Too tight, with your arms wedged between your chests like the first time but you don’t mind. Seokmin is warm
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, spinning you around.
You soak in the contact for as long as you can. Seokmin gives great hugs, better than great. You didn’t realize you craved the firm comfort of his arms until you had it once again and now that you do, you don’t want him to stop.
You notice someone watching over Seokmin’s shoulder. She’s pretty. Dark curly hair, button nose, big doll eyes boiling with indignation. 
“Is that her?” you whisper into his neck.
“Her who?”
“Mrs. Bald dog walker.”
Seokmin loosens his grip just enough to look.  “Yeah. Why?”
You bury your face back into the crook of his and give him a squeeze. Seokmin returns it instinctively, arms slug across the small of your waist like a puzzle piece. 
“Marta isn’t the jealous type,” he whispers.
“Huh, that’s weird.” Your lips purse. “Because she just stormed off.”
Seokmin whips around to look at the now vacant spot where his ex-girlfriend once stood.
“Consider it as my thank you for the soft launch.”
“Did that actually work?” he asks.
You can’t admit you forgot to check if either Carson or Sam looked at your post. Coincidentally enough, you were too wrapped up in thoughts of the man before you to remember the entire reason he touched you so casually that night was for petty revenge and not because he actually wanted to.
“Who cares?” you bluff. “Anyway, I was thinking of another fundraiser. Maybe it can give you guys some money for some updated set pieces.”
They could definitely use it. One of the stagehands staples fabric across a hole in the couch so wide you’d bet money the next person who sits on it would sink straight through to the ground, another slathers a thick layer of white paint on a dry rotted board. What good are new costumes without good props?
“If you keep helping us out, they’re gonna have to change the name of the building.” Seokmin smiles down at you. His hand is still at the small of your back but even through the many layers protecting you from the chill you can feel the heat of his touch.
“I’ve always wanted a theater named after me. Like a Rockefeller or something.”
“So what is this idea?”
You gaze at him expectantly. “How many of your friends are single?”
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It took little convincing for your plan. Seokmin turns out to be a bartender and his boss agrees to host it (pending a small cut of the proceeds), and several of his friends volunteer to help a good cause.
You’ve never been to this bar either but it somehow fits him too. Not a complete dive but cozy and well weathered. Multicolored string lights hang from the rafters so thick you can’t even see the ceiling, and posters, neon signs, and other decor obscure the walls. A low platform in one corner clearly meant for live entertainment becomes the auctioneer block with a banner strewn above reading THEATER FUNDRAISER in painted bubble letters.
Most of the people in the crowd are involved in the theater one way or another. Volunteers, cast and crew, a few parents coming for the drink specials and a show. A few outsiders mix in with the batch; regulars, people who saw the chalkboard sign on the street and got curious. Seokmin’s friends linger around the pool table in the corner, nervously shuffling around.
You’re on your way over to finalize the order when Seokmin and Lydia intercept you. 
“Small problem,” he says.
“What?” 
Lydia sighs. “Mingyu has a girlfriend.”
“Since when?” you ask.
“Apparently fifteen minutes ago.”
“Oh,” you say. “Good for him.”
“Except we’re a man down.”
“I’ll do it,” Seokmin interjects.
Your gut curls. The idea of someone, not you, going on a date with him leaves a sour note in your mouth. But you’re not in a position to say anything. 
But it doesn’t stop you.
“You can’t!” you blurt.
“Why not?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.
Lydia looks down right maniacal at your outburst. No way are you going to admit whatever feelings you have for Seokmin right now. 
“Who is gonna be the host if you’re busy?”
“I’ll do it,” Lydia says. There’s a dare in her gaze. She can smell bullshit a mile away. “Unless there’s some other reason Seokmin needs to host.”
She bats her eyelashes with all the innocence of the devil.
“Fine,” you nod.
Lydia snags the mic from Seokmin and bolts for the stage. “Alright, settle in! Tonight we’re raising money for a good cause. So let’s get this show on the road, and remember—no refunds, no takesies backsies, and no funny business! We take Venmo or cash. No checks! Now, first up, we have Seungcheol!”
Seungcheol steps up to the stage, body lax as the crowd eyes him up and down. He was the first person to volunteer when you explained your idea – spawned from many sorority fundraisers in college – to Seokmin. The others followed suit shortly after, giving you six men in total willing to go on a date (no funny business) in the name of supporting the arts.
“Twenty dollars!” a woman in a dark jacket calls.
“At least let me tell you about him before going at him like a piece of meat!” Lydia jokes.
Someone else interjects. “Forty dollars!”
Lydia ignores her. “He enjoys camping, sports, and long walks on the beach,” she reads off the notecard. “And he can fix your car courtesy of Choi Mechanics.”
“Seventy five.”
People keep increasing their bids, Seungcheol clearly enjoying the attention as he jokes and winks towards the more eager ones. He’s preening while you and Seokmin watch in giddy amusement by the pool table, faces hidden in your drinks.
“Two hundred dollars!” someone near the back calls.
“Two fifty!”
“That’s Seungcheol’s girlfriend,” Seokmin whispers from your side.
You try to get a better look but Seungcheol’s girlfriend remains hidden at a table behind several others. 
“Then why is he doing this?”
Seungkwan comes up beside you. “Because they’re exhibitionists.”
“Sold!” Seungcheol yells.
“I’m the one with the gavel,” Lydia objects. She pounds the gavel to emphasize her power. “Sold for two hundred and fifty dollars!”
Seungcheol drops a wad of cash from his own wallet into the bucket at the front of the stage and disappears into the corner of the room where his girlfriend waits. You make a mental note to avoid that side of the bar for the rest of the night, just in case.
The other guys go easy, thriving on the momentum of Seungcheol. Soonyoung gets a date with a woman old enough to be your mother but he looks positively thrilled. Even Mingyu stops by to drop a couple bucks into your hand as an apology. Then it’s Seokmin’s turn.
“He can cook, he’s good with kids, and he makes a mean mojito,” Lydia announces. “Give it up for our favorite bartender, Seokmin!”
The crowd has mellowed out but remains enthusiastic, regulars and theater people alike clapping as he comes forward. Even his boss behind the bar rings a large bell mounted on the wall reserved for good tippers. Someone wolf whistles and Seokmin goes red.
“Let’s start the bidding at thirty bucks,” Lydia says.
“Fifty!” someone calls.
By some feat of the universe, Seokmin transforms into a maroon faced mess.
You look around the bar and spot her at a table close to the edge of the stage. That ugly gut punch from earlier rears its head again at the gleam in her eyes, like she can’t wait to sink her teeth into Seokmin the first chance she gets. You don’t want Seokmin going on a date with her. You don’t want him going on a date with anyone.
Your mouth is open before you realize. “A hundred.”
Seokmin, Lydia, and just about everyone else in the bar whip their head in your direction. You refuse to look at any of them, staring down your competition as she raises her hand to counter.
“One fifty.”
“Two hundred.”
“Three fifty,” she says, smirking at you.
Lydia levels you with expectant looks. Seokmin watches you like you’re a wild animal, unsure of your next move. You’re in too deep now. 
“Four hundred dollars.”
Your competition opens her mouth to rebut; however, Lydia is already swinging the gavel, “Sold! To the beautiful woman in the ugly sweater. Come get your man!”
Seokmin catches your arm before you can open your purse. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s for a good cause. Besides, think of it as a thank you for saving me from spending all my money on take out.”
He stares at you for a second too long, frozen in his own disbelief. You’re lying and you both know it but to admit that him going on a date with someone else, even for a good cause, made you jealous ventures over a line you’re not ready to cross just yet.
“Alright, that was our last man of the night,” Lydia announces into the mic. “Which means we’ve raised a whopping two thousand six hundred dollars for our local theater.”
Everyone cheers once again. The atmosphere is light but the bubble surrounding you and Seokmin is anything but. 
He raises an eyebrow skeptically as you shove bills into the collection bucket, pointedly looking anywhere but him lest your face match the red of his own. It doesn’t matter though. You can feel the heat on your cheeks, the sweat at your hairline. Four hundred dollars to go out with a guy. 
At least it’s for a good cause.
Seungkwan saves you from whatever questions Seokmin has, pushing his friend back to work behind the bar before cornering you into conversation.
“You,” Seungkwan says.
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I’m having a pre-game at my house tomorrow night. You’re invited.”
“Oh,” you blink. “I’m not really a partier.”
“It’ll be a small thing. Most of the guys here and my roommate. We’re going to Jane’s after.”
“I’ve never been there before.”
Seungkwan stomps indignantly. “You’ve never been to Jane’s? Jane’s is a neighborhood institution.”
“I guess I never got around to exploring much,” you shrug.
“Why not?”
A creature of habit such as yourself, you rarely went to new places. You liked the places you already knew, the ones you didn’t have to guess if you liked. Besides, you hadn’t felt like going out much in the past few months, something always coming up including reasons, such as: you liked your apartment with cheaper drinks, less cigarette smoke, and no strange men trying to mansplain American Psycho.
Lydia appears at your side, new drink in hand. “Did someone say party?”
“It starts at eight thirty, but don’t come until nine. Seok will give you the address.”
Seungkwan disappears into the crowd, leaving you and Lydia hovering at the edge of the stage all alone. If there was one person besides Seokmin you didn’t want to be left alone with, it was her. But it’s too late to escape.
In the face of total mortification, you try to put on a brave face.
“Four hundred? Really?” Lydia asks.
“Shut up,” you mumble into the cup of melted ice.
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“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I’ve met your friends before,” you snort.
Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, but they can be a lot and that’s coming from me.”
You refused to let the car ride on the way over be awkward, plowing through whatever cobwebs lingered between you two. Luckily, Seokmin went along, recalling horror stories from Seungkwan’s yearly holiday pre-game. There was the year Soonyoung attempted making hot cider and gave everyone food poisoning. The year after where Mingyu ended up breaking the bathroom doorknob resulting in the fire department coming out to free him because he got stuck trying to crawl out the window above the shower. And most recently, Jeonghan – who you haven’t met yet – hid under the couch for the sole purpose of grabbing people’s ankles as they walked by; except he fell asleep and Seungkwan found him the next morning while cleaning.
Nothing you couldn’t handle.
“Well, if it's too much I’ll send you some code to leave.”
“What should I be looking for exactly?” he asks, lips quirked.
“I’ll start making ghost noises.”
Seokmin snorts when you start demonstrating. “But that happens so frequently. How about morse code?”
“How about I scream at the top of my lungs?” you grin.
“Works for me.”
Seokmin knocks against the dark wood door leading to Seungkwan’s apartment.
“COME IN!” Seungkwan belts, flinging the door open wide. “For me?”
You hand over the bottle of wine with flourish. Heaven forbid you show up anywhere empty handed, a habit hammered in by your mother. “For you.”
Seungkwan pulls you inside. “I like you more and more. Come on, everyone else is already here.”
The doorway leads straight into the crowded living room. You recognize Seungcheol, a woman his same height tucked into his side as they chat with Lydia on the couch. Coincidentally, she lives two floors above Seungkwan and Vernon and was thrilled to discover mailroom guy had a name and good taste in music.
You quickly scan beneath the couch for any full grown men and are mildly disappointed to find none.
Seokmin gets caught up in ‘hellos’ while you pad down the hallway after Seungkwan; into the kitchen where Mingyu stirs something on the stove.  Cocoa and vanilla flood your nose, the warmth of the kitchen driving away the lingering chill from outside. Seungkwan puts the wine on the counter before pulling mugs out of the cabinets. 
“What’s this?” you ask.
“Spiked hot chocolate,” Mingyu says. He adds a splash of peppermint schnapps to the pot and starts stirring again before pouring two mugs: one for you and one for Seokmin. “There’s whipped cream over there.”
You’re shaking the can of whipped cream when an arm reaches over your shoulder and pulls it out of your grip.
“Just say when,” Seokmin says.
He piles a comical mountain of whipped cream into your mug, and then a matching one on his own. There are sprinkles as well as chocolate shavings and you both artfully decorate your drinks with handfuls of each.
“I think we have more whipped cream than hot chocolate,” you say.
“There’s no such thing as too much whipped cream.” 
You both take a long sip and when he’s done you choke. He’s got whipped cream on his nose, his lips, and his cheeks. 
“What?” Seokmin asks.
“You’ve got,” you laugh. “Let me help.”
He stands perfectly still as you wipe his face with a paper towel. You’ve been this close to Seokmin before but with amusement instead of nerves clouding your system, you notice details you hadn’t before. The mole of his cheek. Two. One a little more pronounced than the other. Cute.
“Alright, all done,” you announce, finally noticing the way he stares down at you softly. So much for not having any nerves. “C’mon, I wanna see if Jeonghan is hiding under the couch before we leave.”
You lead him out of the kitchen, looking for anyway to cut the tension—
“KISS!” Lydia demands. 
You scan the room for who she’s screaming at in an apartment full of strangers only to find her finger pointed straight above your head.
Mistletoe.
Mingyu barrels out of the kitchen to join in on the chaos.
“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” they all chant. Soonyoung cups his hands around his mouth and belts it loud enough your heart lurches. 
“We don’t have to,” Seokmin whispers, cheeks and ears bright red.
“It’s fine.”
You plan for a quick peck on the cheek but Seokmin goes for his left while you go for your left and you’re not kissing but something dangerously close to it. The sticky residue of sugar and chocolate registers against your lips, a little bit of stubble missed when he shaved this morning. Barely a second of contact, just the edge of his mouth against yours but the world spins backwards and you nearly fall over. 
As fast as it happens, you both draw back, staunchly avoiding eye contact but staying pressed close.
Seokmin wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you against his check. “You okay?”
His breath skims over your lips. The temptation to roll on to your toes and kiss him for real sends your heart racing. Your chin lifts. Seokmin looks at your mouth. And…
“Who's ready to party?” Chan calls, breaking the atmosphere. 
The walk to Jane’s is nothing short of hell. Snow falls in thin sheets, frigid air sneaking past the lining of your coat and straight into your bones. In the middle of the pack you aren’t as exposed thanks to Seokmin to your right, Lydia on the other side, and a gaggle of the others walking in front. 
Your hand keeps accidentally brushing Seokmin’s, sending a rush of pins and needles up your arm each time. You both pretend to ignore it.
The barren street outside the bar doesn’t hint at what waits within except for the dull hum of life sneaking past the door. It feels like half the city is packed inside, forcing everyone to slither past each other because there is simply no room. 
Seungkwan wasn’t lying when he said it was a neighborhood institution. A stage is set up at the far wall, drunks belting their hearts out. Your group fans out to the bar, snagging drinks before taking the pilgrimage to a small table near the stage. Seokmin keeps you close the entire time. Guiding you to a seat, insisting on standing right behind the chair and talking to his friends over your shoulder.
You sag in your seat, content to soak in everyone else's conversations. The edge of your mouth still burns from the contact of the kiss, the same sensation everywhere Seokmin touches. You crave more. Like a sunflower searching for the sun. You lean against the back of the chair for a chance to feel his chest against your back. He doesn’t shy away when you do either. You can’t see his face but Lydia sits across the table watching with a pleased smirk. 
“A toast,” Seokmin starts as the song fades and the next group to the stage. Someone wrangled a tray of red and green shots to the table and Seungkwan passes them around. “To Y/N. We wouldn’t have a show without her.”
“Yes, you would,” you correct.
“But we wouldn’t have new costumes,” says Seungkwan. “Do you know how old the costumes we were gonna wear are?”
“And we have new sets. We haven’t bought a new set piece in like fifty years,” Chan interjects. 
Soonyoung speaks up next. “And I got a date!”
Seokmin slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. “You’re a miracle worker.”
Cheeks hot, you hide your smile at the bottom of the shot glass.
Focus shifts as Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan take the stage for “No Scrubs” the entire bar signs along to. They’re born performers. Soaking in every minute of attention, riling the crowd up until your ears go numb.
You try not to think of the almost kiss but it’s hopeless. Two drinks down and the only thing on your mind is the eclectic feeling on his mouth on your skin. 
You’re so deep in your thoughts, you don’t notice Seokmin has come back to the table with a new drink for you until he’s nudging your shoulder with his.
“How do you like it?”
“Way better than the depression playlist,” you joke.
“Celine Dion is a classic.”
“Yeah, but after the first five times she loses her edge.”
Seokmin shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Blasphemy.”
Vernon and Seungkwan are singing Crazy in Love. Or, Seungkwan is singing and Vernon is head banging to the beat. Just watching makes your neck hurt.
Someone bumps into you from behind, sending you reeling straight into Seokmin’s chest.
“Woah, you okay?”
You nod into his chest but don’t let go. 
The shots earlier were a mistake. Seokmin looks good under the neon lights of the bar, better with the swirly haze of alcohol. You want to kiss him so bad it’s embarrassing.
“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice husky.
When you look up at him, something dances across his face. There and gone before you can figure out what it is. Home sounds like a great idea. Better to lock yourself in your apartment where your mind can run wild before you do something stupid – like drag Seokmin into a corner to make out – in front of all your new friends.
You step out of his grip. “I can get home on my own. You don’t have to come with me.”
“I’m good to go. Promise.”
Not willing to brave a thirty minute walk home in the snow, Seokmin orders an Uber while you say goodbye.
Once outside, Seokmin wraps his arm back around you. Away from prying eyes, you let yourself indulge with the excuse of sharing body heat. Friends share body heat all the time. There is nothing wrong with a platonic penguin huddle.
Too soon, he pulls away as a car pulls up to the curb. “This is us.”
Seokmin makes conversation with the driver while you stare out the window as the city whips by. He’s just being nice, treating you the same way he would all his friends. Touching and almost kissing aside, Seokmin is your friend and you don’t want to jeopardize it with complications.
“YN?”
“Huh?’
“We’re home.”
You stumble through the cold, Seokmin hot on your heels through the lobby and into the elevator. It’s a fragile type of silence between you. 
“I’ll see you later?”
“Night,” Seokmin says.
“Goodnight, Seok,” you murmur back, pushing open your door.
“Fuck,” he curses. “I left my keys at Kwan’s.”
“Should we call them?”
You invite Seokmin into your apartment while he tries to get ahold of his friends. Shinx offers timid emotional support by curling up in his lap, purring loudly as scratches under her chin. Now you’re jealous of a cat. 
How dmbarrassing.
Calling proves futile. Seungkwan’s phone goes straight to voicemail and Vernon doesn’t answer either. He tries texting them with the same results.
“You can sleep on the couch,” you offer.
“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose.”
“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re sitting in the hall all night,” you say. “Let me get you a blanket.”
In your room, you quickly change out of your bar clothes and into pajamas. It takes some time to dig out a pair of sweats and a tshirt that’ll fit Seokmin but you eventually find something for him. Snagging a pillow from your bed and an extra blanket from the linen closet. you head into the living room.
You force the clothes into his chest. “Here. Get changed and I’ll make your bed.”
A dark look glazes his face and for a second you think he might kiss you. Or you hope he’s thinking about it half as much as you are. But the moment passes. He locks himself in your room while you busy making the lumpy, itchy couch somewhat comfortable for him. 
“Wanna watch a movie?”
You settle on Krampus. Neither of you have seen it but even after tonight you doubt you’d be able to recall a single detail. Seokmin pulls your legs over his lap like second nature, covering you both in the blanket, his hands resting on your shin. Choosing shorts over pants was a mistake. The heat of his thigh against the back of yours makes you squirm. The calluses on his palms scratch an itch leading straight between your legs as he rubs up and down absentmindedly, never trailing higher than your knee.
You’re shaking. His hand squeezes and you nearly heave.
“Cold?” 
No.
But you nod anyway. 
Seokmin pulls another blanket off the back of the couch, carefully layering it over the first, tucking you in tight before putting his arms back over your legs.
“You know, you’re a really good guy, Seok.”
“Thanks.”
It’s shameful. How bad you want to kiss him, for him to kiss you. 
“I mean it.”
“I don’t know if it's true though.”
Instead of asking what he means, you lean closer. Then Seokmin does too. You’re too busy staring at his mouth to notice him doing the same. All your thoughts hone in on if he was as good a kisser as you imagined. And if you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? If you touched him, would he touch you too?
Someone moves first. It doesn’t matter who because his nose nudges against yours, then you're swallowing his sigh, and you both practically melt at the relief. 
It’s better than anything you could have cooked up in your head. His lips are soft, the rough pads of his fingers gentle as he tips your chin. You like it. You like him. 
Your lips catch on his bottom lip by accident but it's the first domino to topple into a chain reaction. Seokmin’s lips part, your hands bury in his hair. His thumb hones in on the strip of skin between your top and your shorts. You maneuver into his lap, fingers cataloguing the expanse of his shoulders, his neck. Back into his hair. Close as you are, it isn’t close enough. You arch into him, dragging your lips across the line of his throat when his head falls back.
His hands are everywhere. The small of your waist, the base of your spine, lifting your shirt until it’s tossed to the floor and your topless in his lap, shaking with anticipation.
“Fuck,” he mumbles. His eyes lock on your nipples, tight from just a few light touches.
Seokmin pulls you back down, kissing you slow and heavy while his hands touch you with gentle reverence. 
Clothes come off. The borrowed sweater he’s wearing reveals so much skin you don’t know where to start. But Seokmin doesn’t let you linger too long because he’s taking off your bottoms until you’re completely naked. Seokmin eases his body over yours, heavy between your thighs. 
A particularly harsh pass of his hips pulls a wire down your spine, back arching painfully, moaning at the ceiling. 
“Ha,” you waver under his teeth, his tongue worshiping your chest, leaving broad strokes you imagine will feel amazing on other parts of your body. Head tipped back, you display yourself openly for him to touch and tease.
“Take your pants off,” you beg.
“I don’t have a condom.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay,” he says, mouthing against the sensitive spot below your jaw. His smile is clear. “We don’t have to do anything.”
You make a sound between a whine and a grunt. You want to have sex with him. Right here, on your shitty couch. But you aren’t willing to take the risk, no matter how badly you want it. Even if he does have a weird dick which you doubt based on the feeling of it against your naked cunt.
“You think my dick is weird?” he asks, half shocked and half amused.
“No! I—” you scramble. “I don’t think your dick is weird.”
“But you’ve thought about my dick?”
“I’m not supposed to.”
Seokmin grins, clearly amused. “Why not?”
“Because you’re my neighbor.”
“Oh.” He rushes to rise off you, kneeling between your spread legs. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”
“I do want to. That's the problem,” you whine.
He hums in acknowledgment, body shaking with barely suppressed giggles. 
You thrash. “Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not, I've just…never had someone be so eager.”
He kisses you like he’s the eager one, tongue tracing your bottom lip until you welcome him in with a lewd suck. It only lasts for a second before he’s back down your chest and then kneeling in front of the couch, nuzzling the meat of your thigh while his fingers stroke against your wetness timidly.
“Is this okay?”
“Yep!” you choke. “Great.”
Your legs verge on numbness from being bent in half for so long but Seokmin keeps finding those spots that make it worth it. You need something to hold onto; his hair, the cushions, your own breasts. Seokmin seems to love that the most. Grunting into your pussy as he watches with reverence as you play with yourself.
“Taste so good,” he rasps. “You’re so hot.”
Fingers thrusting, Seokmin strings you out. When he crooks the digits buried deep inside you, your back breaks in half. The hand pinning your waist down holds tights, the lean muscles flexing in your view. 
“J-just like that,” you hiccup. 
He never falters. Seokmin does exactly as you ask until you curl and come wet and hot on his face with a cry. It’s not until you push him off that he stops completely, rubbing the mess of his fingers on his pants and crowding you back into the couch cushion to taste yourself off his tongue. 
You moan against his mouth. “Wanna taste you.”
“I’m good.”
“I want to,” you beg.
“No like—”
You paw at his crotch only for the enticing hardness to be absent. He’s soft. Confusion furrows your brows for a brief second until the rosy tint to his cheeks registers. 
Seokmin hides in the crook of your neck, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder. “It usually doesn’t happen like that. I don’t—”
“That's so hot,” you mumble. The heat of his body combined with an orgasm and the last bit of your blood lulls you closer to sleep with every second.  
Seokmin tugs your shirt back over your head before pulling you close, his bare chest against your back, legs tangled beneath a quilt. Pure content tickles across your senses, followed by the warm drag of sleep.
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Seokmin is gone by the time you wake up.
Shuffling from the couch into the bedroom, you accept he probably left early to get his keys from Seungkwan and didn’t want to wake you. Your head pounds in time with your pulse, stomach turning at the thought of getting off the couch. Thank God he didn’t try to wake you. There’s nothing less attractive than wanting to lay on the floor and wait for the sweet release of death.
The second time you wake up is to the sound of Shinx shredding a scrap of paper at the foot of your bed.
“You bastard,” you groan.
A set of large eyes stares back at you for a moment, before she meows and gets back to work on her kill. You nudge her off the edge of the bed with your foot. She bolts for the living room while you hide back into the pillows until it’s dark outside once again.
When you start feeling human enough to shower and eat, you check your phone. A text from Lydia and a few other notifications greet you but none from Seokmin. Not a call, or a text, or anything. Complete radio silence.
You hear him come home, the shuffle of his feet down the hallway and the slam of his front door. But there's no singing; not even so much as a hum. No knocking on the shared wall. You can’t hear a single thing from his side even when – embarrassingly – you press your ear against the wall like an eavesdropper. 
It’s like that for days.
Seokmin leaves his apartment after you get home. Or when you come back from work you hear him rush to turn down his music like he wants you to believe he’s out. He’s avoiding you. And you don’t know why.
You’ve thought about trying to catch him in the act; waiting by the door and popping out to ask him what his problem is. But you’re not sure if you want the answer to that question. He probably regrets kissing you. He definitely regrets kissing you if he's acting like this. But you don’t want to rush to conclusions either. The show opens Friday night and being director requires all hands on deck. Seokmin probably doesn’t even have time to brush his teeth let alone think about whatever it is between you too. Add the fact the actor for Scrooge broke his leg just before the auction and the only person comfortable enough with the role is also directing, he’s under a lot of pressure.
But none of the reassuring thoughts get you to leave the house the night of the show.
It wasn’t as if you had to be there. You helped fundraise but you weren’t cast or crew so your attendance was optional, even if there were two tickets waiting for you at willcall. Missed calls and texts rack up on your phone screen. Lydia, Seungkwan, Chan… But none from Seokmin. You should have turned your phone off to avoid the fall out from ditching. 
Instead, you accidentally pick up Lydia’s call. 
“Where are you?” Lydia screeches through the speaker. “The show's about to start.”
“I’m…I’m sick.”
You even fake cough but Lydia doesn’t buy it for a second.
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“Get your ass down here or I swear to god I’ll drag you by your hair.”
“Why would I go? He hasn’t talked to me all week?”
“So? Who cares!” she huffs, “You worked really hard to make sure this all got done. They wouldn’t have costumes or a set without everything you did. Forget Seokmin, come see it for yourself.”
“I—”
“Listen. Whatever happened between you two happened. But don’t let that chase you away from this. We can plot revenge tomorrow but tonight you should celebrate how hard you worked to make this happen.”
“Alright.”
You race to dress somewhat appropriately. Sweater, leggings, and a nice coat are all you can manage if you want to make it before intermission ends. It’s a miracle you’re not pulled over for speeding or running through yellow lights at the last minute but you get downtown in record time.
The street outside the theater is quiet, fog rising from the damp pavement. Through the glass doors into the theater, people mill about. You missed the first half of the show but there’s still time.
Lydia waits on the steps, exhaling a foggy breath when she finds you.  “Thank god.”
“How's it so far?”
“Good. I can’t believe I’ve never come to one of these before.” She types furiously on her phone before locking it and tossing it back into her purse. “The costumes look so good.”
The theater is packed to the brim, the lobby practically bursting at the seams as people chat through intermission. The costumes look better than good and so do the sets. Seokmin plays a more than convincing Scrooge, even better than the ones you’ve seen in the million movie versions of the play you’ve watched together. There’s no way he can see you with the bright stage lights but more than once it feels like he’s staring right where you sit, looking for someone. Looking for you.
Your eyes remain glued to the stage, unable to blink just in case you miss a second. It's dizzying watching him perform, as if you're staring up at the sky for too long and starting to feel unmoored; like you can't look away, can't accept that something so captivating exists.
After another hour, the lights go up, the cast take their bows. Without warning, you’re blinking into a harsh spotlight.
“Stand up,” Lydia whispers, prodding your side.
“What the hell is going on?”
“This production wouldn’t have been possible without Y/N. We’re so thankful for someone like her.”
You smile awkwardly and wait for the clapping to die down as the spotlight moves back to the stage. The second it's over, you’re up the aisle and into the lobby.
Straight into Seungkwan, who is subtly guarding the door like he knew you’d run at the first chance.
“You’re coming to the after party, right?” he asks.
Other people start filtering in from the auditorium. Maybe, you can lose him in the chaos and go home. 
“Of course she is,” Lydia interjects. Her arm weaves through yours, a firm threat that she’ll drag you if she has to.
The after party is for cast and crew of legal drinking age at Jane’s. Lydia and Seungkwan ride with you, another silent threat looming in the air.  They chat the entire way, undeterred by your silence. It's nice having friends that care but all you want is to hide under a blanket on your couch and spend the rest of the night crying while Shinx watches you with unveiled disgust.
Outside the bar, you promise one drink, claiming that you really are sick and want to go home. Which might be true. You’re off kilter, head spinning, stomach twisted into untangleable knots. But that might be because you can hear Seokmin’s laugh as you enter and your muscles twitch to dive beneath a table until he leaves.
You manage to find a stool in the corner. Even in an attempt to remain unseen more than half the bar stops by to thank you; crew members you haven’t met or cast you’ve seen in passing. Lydia stays by your side throughout, a steady presence as you lose yourself in the party. You can almost forget who is floating around the outskirts of the bar like a ghost. 
“Vernon sent me to ask if you want to play pool,” Seungkwan says to Lydia.
She sends you a sideways glance. Not asking for permission but like you’re a kid she can’t leave alone.
“Go,” you say, brushing her away. “I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t leave without telling me.”
“I’m leaving right now,” you tell her.
“Fine,” she sighs. Then she pulls you into a hug. Lydia isn’t a hugger, in the years you’ve known her you can count on your fingers the number of times it’s happened. “But you should clear the air before you go.”
“I live next to him. There are plenty of opportunities.”
She gives you an extra squeeze, fully aware you’ll continue pretending he doesn’t exist until everything smooths over and you and Seokmin are back to neighbors who tolerate each other's existence in fragile silence.
Which would work if the second you turn around to leave you don’t run straight into him.
He rubs the side of his head. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you say. “Can we talk?”
He nods before turning to leave the bar, not waiting to see if you follow but you do. 
The party inside the bar echoes out onto the snowy street. It seems no one else is crazy enough to have an overdue conversation in a snowstorm, but better here than anywhere else. At least after Seokmin lets you down, you can run back to your apartment and pretend he doesn’t exist anymore.
Seokmin stands a few paces away, barely illuminated in neon signs and string lights strewn across the street. You aren’t drunk, not even tipsy. Alcohol would make this conversation worse but it’d take the edge off your nerves and dull a little bit of the cold.
You shove both hands in your pockets, unsure what to say now that you have him all alone.
“The play was good.”
“Thanks. Next time you’ll have to see the first act.”
It comes out like a joke but you can feel the vitriol like a bucket of ice water. Ouch.
“I—”
“If you’re not over your ex it’s okay,” he winces. “We can stay friends.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Sam. You still have feelings for him. It’s fine if you do, I get it. I’m not mad or anything I just thought…”
“I am over Sam.”
“Well, congrats on getting over him I guess,” Seokmin shrugs but his grin is forced. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”
“Are you serious?” you scoff, venom stinging the tip of your tongue. 
His face glazes with annoyance. “What else is there?”
“Why did you leave?”
“I had work.”
You want to smack to frown off his face. 
“But you didn’t text me or leave a note. I woke up and you were gone and then didn’t hear anything from you.”
“I did leave a note. You iced me out,” he argues.
“Where? Because from where I’m standing you left as soon as you could and then ignored me like it never happened.”
“My phone died so I left a note on the counter. And you never texted me or anything so I thought you were trying to let me down easy.”
He left you a note. The shredded paper on your bed…
“Oh my god,” you gasp, ire evaporating. “Shinx.”
“Your cat?”
Laughter bubbles out of your throat, so thick you choke on your next words. “I think she ate your note.”
The realization hangs in the air, Seokmin froze as your words sink in. He stares at you for a moment, still recovering from the absurdity of it all, before he finally exhales a long breath.
“I thought she liked me,” he whines, face lit up with the beginning of a smile. 
“Shinx is loyal to no one.”
His body meets yours, like cards precariously leaned against one another to prevent a topple as you both shake with laughter. The cold of the street disappears in the warmth of his touch. 
“You’re not that kind of guy. I know that. I shouldn’t have—”
“I could’ve texted you after I went to Kwan’s,” he interjects. 
“I could’ve called you.”
Seokmin’s gaze roams across your face. “How about we start over?”
“I’d like that,” you smile, closing the scant amount of space left between your bodies. 
“Me too.”
Your lips brush against his, the faintest contact sending a storm of butterflies through your stomach. You’re both smiling too much for it to count as a real kiss but neither of you seem to care. His hand slips around the back of your neck, holding you closer just for a moment longer.
Seokmin convinces you to stay at the bar for a few more hours. He holds your hand, keeps you under his arm, looks at you after each joke to make sure you’re laughing too. Seokmin is nothing like Sam. You’ve known that all along but the fear lingered and you refused to acknowledge it. He’s someone you actually could fall for if you let yourself. 
He might hurt you but the potential for something great outweighs the bad in spades.
As the night drags on, you end up closer; sitting on his laps, his hands protectively wrapped around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder and you lean back against him. The slow burn between you roars to a boil when you trace mindless shapes against his palm, Seokmin’s breath shaky in his chest.
“Ready to go home?” he whispers huskily. His breath rushes down your neck, goosebumps bloom in its wake. 
You shift closer – the seam of your jeans only further worsening your arousal – and nod.
Once outside, you’re tangled in each other once again, limbs indecipherable. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Seokmin orders an Uber and immediately focuses back on you the second he can. You catch a text on his screen before he can lock his phone. Seokmin holds you the same as before but it’s different this time. You’re both waiting for the damn to break and the flood to wash away whatever tension lingers between you. 
[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: do not fuck this up
[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: lydia said she would kill you and i think she’s serious
The cab ride home is a blur. You’re focused on not scandalizing the drive while Seokmin keeps a hand firmly on your knee, perfectly proper if it wasn’t for the grit in his jaw when you return the touch just high enough for your pinky to graze his zipper. 
The second the car stops, you throw the door open and pull Seokmin out and inside the lobby, straight to the elevator where he grabs your waist and uses the leverage to kiss you with so much heat you sweat.
He tries pressing you into the wall but you beat him to the punch, crowding him into the corner, front flush with him from head to toe. Seokmin groans, pushing back as you grind over his thigh. One of you pushes the button to your floor.
When the doors open, he gains the upper hand. Tugging you down the hall, he bypasses your door and goes straight for his own. He fumbles with the keys from the way you suck at his pulse but after a few tries he succeeds, pulling you inside and pressing you into the wall of the hallway.
“I like you,” he admits, rushing to unzip your coat and stuff his freezing hands inside, curling them against your waist. “This isn’t just sex.”
You nod dumbly. “I know. I like you, too.”
“And we should – hmmm – go on a date sometime.”
“Okay,” you rasp. 
His thigh slots back between yours. All those memories of his mouth and fingers rush to the forefront, teasing you with the fantasy of Seokmin on his knees right here, eating you out next to his front door. 
He presses hard against your core, fingers tracing the seam of your pants. Your hands reach beneath his shirt; pulling, squeezing. Nails digging into his tense stomach with each bump against your covered clit.
“Seokmin,” you whimper.
You're pulled off the wall. A trail of clothing is left in your wake to his room. Hats, coats, sweaters, undershirts. Seokmin manages to keep his pants on but allows you to unbutton them for a weak handjob over his briefs.
“God,” he exhales close to your ear.
In all the nights you two have hung out you’ve never been in his room. You try to take in as many details as possible but Seokmin dedicates himself to driving you insane with his lips on your neck, gently nipping and sucking until you shiver.
If you had any foresight this was going to happen then you would have at least picked matching underwear. But he seems thrilled as he crowds you into the bed. 
His mouth replaces his hand, lapping at your nipple, completely disregarding the fabric of your bra, before sucking it into his mouth. The hand that was on your chest dips beneath your panties. Fingertips circle your clit, gliding through the wet mess, dipping shallowly inside you.
Your hips rut into the touch. You want more. Need more. And you know Seokmin can give you what you need.
You guide his mouth to your neglected nipple, pushing the cup out of the way and arching as he gives it the same attention. “Please.”
“I got you,” he promises.
Seokmin melts down between your legs, kneeling at the side of the bed; one on his shoulder, the other pressed up your chest. Your hands bury in his hair as he licks a long strip up your core. Each pathetic sound fleeing your lips is rewarded with a deeper curl of his fingers, a harsher lap of his tongue. He leaves wet kisses on your thighs, spreading the mess of arousal and spit before diving back.
You squeeze tight on his fingers. “O-oh, oh fuck.”
Your hips stutter into his mouth. It washes over you, muscles clenched so hard it hurts. The way your heels dig into his back must hurt too but you don’t care. Neither does Seokmin. He doesn’t stop as you claw at him, following that inferno scorching through every tissue, begging him to keep going until you wilt into the sheets.
The ceiling comes slowly into focus, dots floating across your vision. You’re sweating despite the chill hanging in the air. Thankfully, Seokmin blankets you in his heat as he kisses across your hips, then your sternum, then buries his face into your neck. Your shivers have nothing to do with the cold.
“Wow,” you pant. 
Seokmin’s face cracks into a tired grin. Fatigue ghosts over the room but you're not done yet. The weight of his cock between your legs demands attention, and you’re all too eager to touch him.
He doesn’t object when you push him onto his back, or to the trail of soft kisses down his front, allowing you to mark up the smooth expanse of his chest and belly how you see fit. You savor the warmth of his body with each touch. Allow your fingers to gently wash away each press of your lips and warm him up for what's to come.
You suck the head of his cock through the fabric, teasing him with your tongue until the taste of pre-cum floods your mouth. 
He sinks into the bed. A hand finds its way into your hair, unsure if he wants to pull you off or sink deeper into the heat of your mouth, even if it is just a tease. You tug his underwear out of the way and continue torturing him. Thrilled by the way his stomach tense with each desperate whine from the way your tongue traces every ridge.
He gently guides you back and forth, taking the strain off your neck as you take more and more before he pulls you off. “Wait, shit.”
“What–”
“I was gonna come,” Seokmin explains, pulling you up his chest to drop placating kisses against your chin.
“That’s okay,” you smile. “I want you to.”
“But I want to fuck you.”
“Next time?”
“Fuck yes, next time,” he pants as he rolls you on to your back.
He keeps his mouth on yours, tongue sliding hotly against your own while blindly searching for a condom in the bedside table. 
Your hips angle and so do his, a little wiggle and then he’s inside you and it ruins your life. Just the first inch seals your eyes shut, vision filled with stars. You can feel everything; full in a way you’ve never felt before.
Seokmin draws back timidly, allowing you both to watch the way your body takes him so easily.
Somehow he manages to rock deeper, stretch you at just the right angle. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. The muscles in your thighs are at war with whether to spread wider or squeeze around his waist.
“I wanna ride you.”
There are so many things you want to do with him. To him. But you start with this, taking command of his lap, sinking back on his dick with another tight stretch; glowing as Seokmin watches slack-jawed.
“God, you’re perfect,” he praises.
You fuck yourself on him, knees digging into the mattress as you grind back and forth and all Seokmin can do is watch. A loose grip on your hips as his face glazes over. Your thighs cramp but the way he looks against the pillows, hazy around the edges, hair flat at one side and wild on the other, encourages you to finish what you started.
“Touch me,” you beg.
His neck goes red, ears too, when his hand wedges back between your thighs. “Wanna see you come again. Fuck, you’re so pretty when you come for me.”
Your hips cant wildly, stuttering under his free flowing praise. Too full, too much. You nearly scramble off his lap to snatch at your sanity drifting away.
He kisses you gently, sweet praise ghosting over your lips. “That’s it. Just like that.”
You’re not even moving. Seokmin works your clit raw, fucks up into you with limited motion as you choke on another orgasm that leaves you wet at the eyes and the room spinning. 
“U-ugh. Fuck,” you shiver, collapsing into his chest.
“Can,” he chokes. “Can I—”
An imperceivable dip of your chin and Seokmin rolls you back over and flattens your thighs open; hard rushes of his hips, stomach taunt.
“Come for me. Want you to come inside me,” you sigh. 
“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants as he shakes beneath your hands before slumping over.
You rebound faster than Seokmin; he’s almost snoring against your chest as you rake a hand through the tangled mess of his hair, melting under the weight on your lips against his hairline.
“You’re pretty when you come, too,” you tease. 
He swats your hand away, rising off you to dispose of the condom in the bathroom before rushing back into bed to clean you with a washcloth. When he’s done, he throws it into some forgotten corner of the room where the rest of your clothes hide and dives under the covers with you in tow. 
Your limbs lace with his, all nude skin on skin. 
“I would like to take you out for real sometime,” Seokmin whispers.
“Good thing I have a four hundred dollar date to cash in on.”
“You know,” he smiles into your cheek. “You could have asked me for free.”
“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”
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vernonverse · 14 hours ago
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📲 Bf!Seventeen finding out they aren't your bias | MAKNAE LINE VER.
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ⓘ CONTENT INFO: paring. seventeen x f!reader. genre | tags. fake texts, reactions, humor/comedy. warnings. jealousy, swearing, suggestive, member dissing member (just playfully), a kmsf joke. requested: yes/no.
NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | HYUNG LINE VER.
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💌 Tags: @bmo-bri, @perfectiondazesworld, @chromequette, @lunaryoongie, @codeinebelle, @starlight-constellation, @ojuwme, @paradiseoflosers, @tinyelfperson, @dcrlingyou, @my-atiny-kookie-rkive, @theidontknowmehn, @haaruki, @bath1lda, @hoshstruck, @wubbz05, @jihoonsbbygirl, @smiileflower, @tastyluvr, @gyuguys, @nerdycheol, @christinewithluv, @jesauiin, @bookyeom, @najaeminluvbot, @ughokmyg, @raggedypansexual, @caratcak3, @ateez-atiny380, @meowchella, @jeonsfries, @whoisbaek15, @damnedangel98.
©VERNONVERSE. I do not condone reposting, plagiarizing or translating my work in any form.
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xinganhao · 5 months ago
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xinganhao 🌟 shared a moment with you: "seokmin x reader"
seokmin joins a lookalike contest. it doesn't go as planned.
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mingyuisthevictimofsvt · 4 days ago
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Sunshine in Human Form
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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.
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onlymingyus · 20 hours ago
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Harder (patreon exclusive drabble teaser)
Hi this is a surprise drabble! While I am finishing up my May fic I saw this picture here on Tumblr and couldn't get the concept out of my mind.
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pairing; dokyeom x f reader x joshua
genre; smut (minor dni)
smut warnings; oral (f recieving), fingering, unprotected sex, language barrier (but we are all lucky cause shua is here!)
w/c; 886 words (teaser 128 words)
a/n; thank you to my @junkissed for proofreading! thank you to @moomumu for posting the picture here on Tumblr.
this fic is a Patreon exclusive bonus drabble – to read this drabble subscribe to my Patreon and click here
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Your skin was on fire and yet goosebumps were spreading along your body. This hadn’t been the plan. You weren’t the type of girl to go to a club and ditch her friends for a guy, but then you had met Dokyeom. He was sweet, gorgeous, and incredibly attentive—now you were lying in the middle of his hotel bed. 
Biting your bottom lip, you take a deep breath through your nose as Dokyeom’s nose nudges against your thighs, signaling for you to spread your legs further. You feel your cheeks burn when he mutters something against your wet folds. You can feel the smile on his lips as he looks up the length of your body at you before cursing under his breath. 
“He said you are beautiful.”
READ THE DRABBLE HERE
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seokminfilm · 17 days ago
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killshot ── lee seokmin
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🤍 pairing, lee seokmin x reader
🤍 warnings, non-idol au, fluff, lots of kissing (the whole fic is just kissing tbh), pg-13 (suggestive), could they be considered to be making out???, seokmin is a tease, lots of flirting, skinship, reader calls seokmin by his nicknames, seokmin calls reader love, they're in love your honor (can you tell these gifs have me tweaking out?)
🤍 summary, seokmin couldn't keep his hands or lips off of you, and you weren't about to stop him.
🤍 author's note, yall i'm not even going to lie that seokmin gifset i reposted has me tweaking out 🧍 he looks so damn fine and i'm not gonna sit here and not write something about him i'm just not 😭 please enjoy this because i'm gonna crash out if i don't write it. i have to vent about how good he looks i'm sorry.
🤍 now playing, killshot (magdalena bay)
🤍 word count, 766 | for @kstrucknet, @maestro-net
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seokmin's full lips press kisses to your bare thighs as you giggle at him, hands in his gelled hair as he smiles against your warm skin. the smirk he wears on his face is one of pure confidence, and his glasses slide down his strong nose as he runs his slender fingers along your now burning skin as you shuffle on the bed.
"do you trust me?" seokmin's voice is low, a tease as he looks up at you with dark brown eyes, smooth and rich like chocolate. his tone sends goosebumps up your body, and you soften immediately, sighing as seokmin kisses your knees softly.
"should i?" you easily match his flirtatious tone, a laugh falling past your lips as seokmin stands up, hands on either side of your body as he cages you with his broad frame. his eyebrows raise slightly, teasing as he whispers his answer.
"that's up to you, love." seokmin lets a happy giggle spill past his lips, quickly breaking whatever character he came up with as you laugh with him. you quickly wrap your arms around seokmin's neck, letting him lay you on the bed.
"i do trust you, though," you say softly, and seokmin smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.
"good. let me make you feel nice, love." seokmin's voice is sweet, malleable as he pats the empty space beside you. "roll on your stomach for me."
you do as he says without a second thought, giggling as you feel seokmin's cold fingers slip under your oversized shirt and trace circles into your hips. the material slides up slightly, allowing seokmin to lean down and press kisses to your lower back.
"you continue to find new ways to surprise me, seok." you whisper quietly, too scared to ruin the intimate moment between you two.
seokmin chuckles lowly, leaving your bare back alone to press his body against you and kiss the tip of your ear. "do you like them? the surprises i give you?" he asks, voice soft for a change as he goes back to massaging your hips with his hands.
"i love it," you smile, eyes fluttering shut as seokmin continues his ministrations, kissing your lower back as his glossy lips brush against your skin.
the atmostphere of your shared room is charged with affection, soft music playing in the background as seokmin makes you feel good. moments like these were your favorites—moments where seokmin gained a bit of confidence he didn't usually have and made it his priority to make you feel loved and wanted.
"you're so beautiful, love. so perfect." seokmin softly flips you over on your back, lips slowly finding their place on your exposed stomach.
you giggle at the warm contact, hands going to seokmin's hair as you sigh dreamily. he continues to kiss and caress your body, taking great care to pay attention to your reactions as you stare down at him.
"not as gorgeous as you, though," you fire back, and seokmin laughs a laugh of joy, hands brushing against your upper thighs as you sigh again.
"oh, stop it. i'm showering you in compliments—not the other way around," the pout that decorates seokmin's features makes him even cuter, and you can't help but study him, noting his full eyebrows and tanned skin.
"you're so pretty." you say without thinking, and seokmin becomes flustered quickly, cheeks heating up as his eyebrows raise slightly. "you're not even listening to me, are you?"
you blink at him, shaking your head as you pull yourself up yet again, wrapping your arms around seokmin's neck as you lean in, just inches away from seokmin's full lips as you shake your head. "no, not really. sorry, minnie."
seokmin doesn't even try to refute you, letting his eyes fall shut as you press a kiss to his smirking lips, tasting the chapstick he had put on minutes earlier. he presses your thighs to the bed, hands warm and splayed across your skin as you let your fingers run through his hair.
"you know, no one would believe me if i told them how much of a flirt you are." you say after pulling away, and seokmin chuckles, letting his forehead touch yours as his sharp nose presses against yours.
"you think so?" the question in his voice is cute to you, and you nod, letting your eyes close as the two of you bask in the moment.
"yeah. i know so." the laugh that falls from your lips makes seokmin melt a bit more, and he quietly swears to himself that he'll live to make nights like these all about you.
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pochaccoups · 7 months ago
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things you do that make svt bust quick (nsfw)
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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.
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seokmn · 2 months ago
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SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS ₊˚⊹ ࿔
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pairing: seokmin x fem!reader wc: 1.4k words warnings: none lua's note: in brazil, the birthday person gives the first slice of cake to a special person to them
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"sometimes i wish that i could freeze the picture and save it from the funny tricks of times"
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It was your son’s birthday, also known as Seokmin’s happiest and most depressing day of the year.
You and Seokmin woke up early to make the most amazing breakfast for the little boy with all the foods he absolutely loves.
“Honey, are you already crying?” You dropped the bowl and got closer to your husband, hugging him from behind and tilting your head to take a look at the tears threatening to flow down his cheeks. “No, it’s the onion, darling. I’m okay.”
“Oh, Seokmin,” you pouted and held back a smile. “You’re cutting bananas and strawberries.”
He let out a little laugh, feeling a bit ridiculous of how bad and stupid his lie was. “You know I get a little bit emotional on this day.”
“I know, I know,” you pecked his cheek before stepping back and paying attention to the bowl once again. “It’s cute, did you know that?”
“I just hate accepting that he’s growing up. Soon enough he won’t need my help anymore, I’ll be a useless dad for him.”
“That’s so not true, he will always see you as his precious father that would do anything to see him happy.”
Seokmin sighed and wiped his tears with the back of his hand before just focusing on his task of cutting the fruits.
Once the breakfast table was set, you went to your son’s bedroom and started singing the happy birthday song in a low tone to not scare him. The sight of your now 5 years old boy smiling even before opening his little eyes made your heart melt and even tear up a little bit.
“It’s my birthday…!” He said while sitting up in bed and looking at his parents with shiny eyes and a huge grin
“Yes it is, my big boy,” Seokmin hugged him as if the boy would fade away if he let go of him. “Happy birthday, buddy.”
“Are you hungry, sweetie? Mommy and daddy made breakfast for you,” your voice was softer than usual as you took in the sight of the boys of your life hugging each other with so much love in their hearts.
Your son’s eyes lit up as he looked up at you and broke the hug, leaving the bed in a matter of milliseconds and rushing to the breakfast table, letting out a loud woah when he saw the table full of his favorite foods.
“I won’t make it until the end of the day.”
“Get it together, my love,” you patted Seokmin’s back. “Get it together.”
He took a deep breath, took your hand in his and followed his son.
[…]
His birthday party was amazing to him, it was a baseball themed birthday party. A passion he shared with his dad that you have always found it so cute.
He spent the entire day playing with his friends while you and Seokmin talked to your friends and the kids’ parents. You couldn’t even count the amount of times someone talked to Seokmin, but he didn’t listen because he was watching his son from afar, watching him having fun with his friends and not with his dad. It hurt him, but it also comforted him somehow.
Ever since you gave birth to your son, Seokmin never left his side. He grew up very attached to Seokmin, which was fine, since he never failed to let you know he loves you as much as he loves Seokmin.
Your husband wants to see the kid grow up well and loved, to become a respectful man in every aspect, but it also hurts him to see his little baby growing up so fast right in front of his eyes. It makes him feel like he’s losing him little by little.
“Hey,” you spoke up softly, rubbing Seokmin’s thigh to gain his attention. Once he looked at you, you smiled. “Go ask him and his friends to come over, it’s time for the cake.”
“Sure, my love,” he took your hand, intertwining your fingers with his before kissing the back of your hand and letting it go. “I’ll be right back.”
You stood up and started to place the candles on the cake. The guests were starting to gather around the table while waiting for the birthday boy to arrive so they could start singing the traditional birthday song.
You looked to the side and saw the kids running and Seokmin giving your son a piggyback ride towards the table.
Everyone sang along while you and your family stood on the other side of the table, Seokmin holding the boy close to the cake. “Okay, buddy. Make a wish and blow out the candles!”
The little boy shut his eyes for a moment and blew out the candles, clapping along with the guests right after. You took a slice of the cake, placed it on a plate and gave it to him. “Who is going to receive the first piece of cake, sweetie?”
“Hmmm, mommy and daddy! Because I love you and I love being your son!”
Seokmin, who was holding back his tears since the boy blew out the candles, couldn’t fight back anymore and started to cry. Some of the guests chuckled at the heartwarming sight as you took the plate to free your son’s hands and let him wrap his arms around his dad’s neck and tell him to not cry.
You fed your sobbing husband a piece of the cake and laughed when you heard him humming. “The cake is delicious,” another sob left from his mouth. “I love you so much, my little boy.” Seokmin hugged him tighter before looking at you and bringing you closer, hugging you as well.
[…]
“Good night, sweetie. Mommy promises you that you’ll open all of your gifts tomorrow morning after breakfast, okay? Sweet dreams.” You placed a kiss on his forehead.
“Okay, mommy. Good night! And tell daddy to stop crying so much, I don’t like seeing him crying. He always cries a lot on my birthday.”
“He only cried that much today because he loves you so much that his love overflowed and it came out as tears, but I’ll tell him to stop crying so much, if that’s what you want.”
He immediately shook his head, a pout forming in his lips. “If he cries because he loves me, then if you tell him to stop crying he will stop loving me… I want daddy to love him forever.”
You chuckled, finding his thought so endearing. “He will never stop loving you, silly, just like I will never stop loving you. Pinky promise.”
“I will never stop loving you and daddy too, mommy!”
You kissed his forehead once again and smiled. “Pinky promise?”
“Pinky promise!”
You patted his head and left his bedroom after turning off the lights. You walked towards the living room, knowing that Seokmin would be waiting for you on the couch, probably with the remote on his lap.
“Is it time?” You sat down beside him, linking your arms around his and resting your head on his shoulders.
“I was just waiting for you, can I press play?”
“Yes.”
Seokmin pressed the play button on the remote and a video of your son starting playing on the TV. Every year Seokmin would make a compilation video about your little boy with videos and pictures of him followed by the song Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA. He knew that that song was about a mom and his daughter, but everytime he listened to it, he would cry thinking about the boy.
The video started with your son as a little baby and ended with the last video he recorded of the little boy being 4 years old. And you know that next year will be the same thing, but it’ll end with the last video Seokmin recorded of him being 5 years old.
“He’s growing up so fast,” Seokmin said between his sobs after the video ended. “Why can’t he be 3 forever?”
You kept your head on his shoulder and started to caress his hand while tears streamed down your face. The video held so many emotions, it felt like it was yesterday that you gave birth to your son, but it’s been five years.
“But he will always be our little boy in our eyes, no matter what.”
“You’re right, love,” Seokmin hugged you and kept crying with his face hidden in the crook of your neck. “He will always be our little boy.”
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chugging-antiseptic-dye · 2 months ago
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seventeen with a crocheter! so 🧶:
a/n: for @lovetaroandtaemin, my favourite crocheter and someone who always indulges all my ramblings 💕
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blue-jisungs · 9 months ago
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[ 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 ] 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)
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┆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
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buntanteen · 2 months ago
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svt fic recs list <3 - svt units & age lines - sfw & nsfw ver.
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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
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lovingseventeen · 6 months ago
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Hi 💕💕💕 could you write hcs on how the members make y/n’s heart flutter? Like talking close to their ear…wiping something on the corner of their mouth then licking it off their own finger…standing reaaaaallly close to you at all times 😉 the more feet kicking screaming into my pillow cringe the better! Thank you! 💖💖
svt making your heart flutter
a/n: .... am i still welcome back here LOL. i'm always just apologizing on here whoops. hope this makes up for things. OH! and i saw svt on their svt right here tour in the u.s.! maybe i even met one of y'all and you didn't know it was me hehe. also writing this is making me feel terribly single oh my. ok i tried with this one, i hope yall enjoy.
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seungcheol: 
❥ i think about this one going seventeen moment a lot just because i saw someone point it out.
❥ say you're standing on a chair to reach something and he notices you. he just has to approach you and hug you around the waist, resting his chin right around your belly.
❥ he'll probably even give you a little squeeze as you run your hands through his hair.
❥ "hi pretty, what're you looking for?" i'm gonna gnaw on my own fist
jeonghan: 
❥ totally would be the kind to wipe something off the corner of your mouth and lick it off his finger.
❥ he'd do it so casually too, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.
❥ he wouldn't even say a word while doing it, just effortlessly reaching over to trace your chin with a finger first before wiping off the icing of your cake off the corner of your lips.
joshua: 
❥ if the two of you are talking on a couch he's resting the arm closer to you on the top of the sofa. not necessarily to put an arm around you but to have easy access to play with your hair.
❥ whether it's tucking a stray hair behind your ear or just to casually run a hand through your hair to soothe you, he likes doing both.
❥ sometimes his hand will linger too, "your hair is getting longer now, huh?" he observes (not as a hint for what you should do with it, he's just pointing it out)
jun: 
❥ leans into you to hear you better, supposedly.
❥ "what was that?"
❥ really, it's just a method to get up close to you. he'll lean in a little closer just to talk to you too.
❥ as he's telling you something close to your ear, you can feel him looking at you, taking in all of your features.
hoshi: 
❥ always makes his presence known to you physically.
❥ it could be a hand on the small of your back, a light grip on your arm as you walk through a crowd, or his arm just around your shoulder.
❥ what really got your heart fluttering was his hand on your thigh though. it's so subtle but it immediately grabs your attention.
❥ during a group dinner, it's a hidden gesture under the table. it's nice to have a physical reminder of him even if you're each having your own separate conversations.
wonwoo: 
❥ the kind to tower over you by leaning on a table, i just know it.
❥ something about him just casually making his presence known has your heart picking up a little.
❥ maybe you're laying out a project you're working on and you're asking him for his opinion.
❥ "wonu, come look at this" "hm?"
❥ he makes his way to genuinely check out what you're preparing, fixing his glasses to rest on his face better too. but as he's observing and resting his hand on the table, his body is still more so facing you, opened to you.
❥ so of course, when he turns his full attention to you, you're already invading each other's personal space.
woozi:
❥ he likes to take care of you in any way that he can and sometimes it comes through in buying something for you.
❥ "you like that sweater? go get it" he'll tell you casually when he notices you lingering on it at the store. "it'll look nice on you."
❥ "let me just try it on first" you reply, him nodding along. when you're checking how it fits in the mirror, he's coming behind you to just lightly smooth out the sweater on your shoulders, hands resting on your biceps.
❥ "see it looks good."
dokyeom: 
❥ definitely not brain rotting from his recent photoshoot
❥ of course you think your boyfriend is attractive, but you also know that he isn't quite the type to wear things that are too revealing or even fitted.
❥ but one chilly day he comes over and your house is warmer than expected. so naturally, he has to take off his sweater and he's wearing one of those fitted thermal shirts underneath.
❥ as he's taking off his sweater his shirt lifts upwards, exposing a toned stomach. But even when he adjusts his shirt back to normal, it still hugs his chest leaving very little to the imagination.
❥ "baby, what're you looking at?" he asks innocently when he catches you staring (maybe you fall in love a little more because he's like this).
mingyu:
❥ had to put in his strength in here sorry not sorry.
❥ when your seat is feeling a little too far from him he'll just change that.
❥ he'll grab the underside of your seat and just pull you closer to him using one arm
minghao:
❥ the eye contact with hao must be insane.
❥ he's a very big believer in listening to you thoroughly.
❥ he's always nodding along as you're talking or humming in agreement, so you know he's actively paying attention. you deserve it.
❥ his gaze is so strong it could almost be intimidating if the way he looked at you wasn't so filled with adoration.
seungkwan:
❥ you know he's a gorgeous singer and how he can belt his heart out.
❥ but in those moments you're just home alone together, you'll catch him humming the sweetest little melody when he thinks no one can hear him.
❥ maybe you wait a second to enter the kitchen and you just take in this little secret performance.
vernon: 
❥ you're both stealing glances at each other while you watch a movie and of course you notice that he's so pretty.
❥ what gets your heart racing every time though, is when he leans in to your ear to tell you something.
❥ he'll lean back away just to see your reaction but you really don't miss how his eyes glance at your lips for a fleeting second.
dino:
❥ something about hearing his full belly laugh for the first time made your heart flutter.
❥ maybe it was the way he was letting loose in front of you. you knew it meant he was comfortable. maybe it's the way you could see his genuine joy so plastered on his face.
❥ maybe it's the way he comes back to you after all the giggles, ready to tune back into you.
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fallingcoups · 16 days ago
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Whoops? Wrong sent, Gone wrong?😧
Dokyeom SMAU
Part 1
Dokyeom's POV
The moment Seungcheol hyung said “Excuse me?????”, I malfunctioned I genuinely started considering early retirement from idol life and went far far away from the city and live in the mountains but then he said "you’re lucky she talks about you too."
Excuse me.
Excuse me?
EXCUSE ME!?!
He can't just drop that and logged out in the middle of my emotional crisis.
So I did what any sane man would do.
I panicked and messaged her.
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English is not my first language, sorry if my grammar is incorrect. 🗡️
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cherrynpink · 10 days ago
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just "friends"
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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"
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.”
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seungcheorry · 4 months ago
Text
"baby, remind me to buy some more lotion tomorrow, we're running out of it", dokyeom says as he walks out of the bathroom, finding you already snuggled up in bed.
"yeah, sure."
he murmurs a tiny 'thank you', plugging his phone to the charger and getting ready to sleep himself. when he shuts the lights off, you can't help but groan a little, shrinking in bed as your body automatically responds to the darkness.
it's not that you're a kid, you know there are no monsters under the bed and that your blanket can't protect you from everything; but total darkness does make you anxious, it feels like it brings out all of your insecurities and intrusive thoughts and your body can't seem to relax, your mind wondering if there's anything hidden in the shadows even though you know the physical limits the walls gives you.
so you're already preparing yourself mentally to another long night - and you don't blame dokyeom, because if he likes to sleep in total darkness in his own house then it's okay -, when said boyfriend clicks at something, and suddenly there's a soft, comfortable light coming from a moon shaped lamp at the corner of his room. it isn't bright, but it's enough to not make you hold your breath as you can see the whole room now.
"what is that?", you softly ask him.
"a lamp, i hope", dokyeom jokes, finally laying on the bed beside you. "i bought it yesterday, for when you're here."
"why?"
dokyeom looks at you, a confused expression on his face.
"what do you mean 'why', baby? you don't like sleeping in the dark, so i bought it for you."
he doesn't miss the way you pout at his soft words. "you didn't have to..."
"nah, i wanted to", dokyeom pulls you close by wrapping an arm around your hips. "i noticed how you keep rolling around the bed when you sleep here, and how there's always a light on when we sleep in your place. it's okay."
again, you pout - and this time, dokyeom kisses your lips with a chuckle. "cutie."
"thank you for this, it means a lot", you sincerely say, looking back at the lamp.
"you're welcome, my love."
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