#Seventeen imagines

[rosiecosy]

sleepy baby˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(ot13 x reader) — fluff

seungcheol frowns. "where is she?"

it's past midnight, and the dorm is mostly quiet—except for the members who are still awake, now on a mission to find their missing youngest. it started when jeonghan went to check on you and found your room empty, bed untouched.

"she was in the living room earlier," minghao says, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"i saw her in the kitchen after that," seokmin adds. "she was making tea."

"okay, so she couldn't have gone far," seungkwan sighs, arms crossed. "unless she got kidnapped—"

"she did not get kidnapped, seungkwan," wonwoo deadpans.

"what if she left to get snacks?" mingyu suggests.

"then she would've told us," dino says, already checking the dorm's front door. "her shoes are still here."

"so she's definitely inside," joshua confirms. "then we just have to find her."

and so begins the latest round of "find the baby," a game that has unfortunately become routine ever since the members realized you had the bizarre habit of falling asleep in the strangest places.

jun checks the living room first, peeking behind the couch.

"not here."

woozi searches the studio, but all he finds is a half-full cup of tea on the desk.

"she was here recently," he calls out.

hoshi checks the bathroom. vernon checks the laundry room. jeonghan peeks inside every closet, just in case.

no sign of you.

"okay, seriously, where—"

"uh, guys?"

everyone turns to chan, who's standing by wonwoo's bookshelf, staring at something with a mixture of amusement and concern. they rush over and follow his gaze—

there you are. curled up in the narrow space between the bottom shelf and the wall, fast asleep.

"you've got to be kidding me," seungkwan whispers.

"why is she like this?" mingyu mutters.

"how did she even fit in there?" jun asks, genuinely impressed.

seungcheol sighs, crouching down to brush a strand of hair from your face. you stir slightly but don’t wake.

"she must've been exhausted," joshua says softly.

"of course she was," jeonghan huffs. "she's been overworking herself again."

"we need to move her," seokmin says.

minghao raises an eyebrow. "you wanna wake her up?"

seokmin shuts up.

"i'll carry her," wonwoo says, surprising everyone. he carefully slides his arms under you and lifts you with ease. you instinctively nuzzle into his chest, and the entire room collectively melts.

"she's so cute when she's asleep," hoshi coos.

"she's cute all the time," minghao corrects.

wonwoo carries you to your bed while the others quietly follow. once you're tucked in, seungcheol pulls the blanket over you, and jeonghan makes sure your stuffed animal is within reach.

"she's gonna wake up confused again," dino whispers.

"as always," vernon chuckles.

they all linger for a moment, watching you breathe evenly. then, one by one, they quietly shuffle out, leaving you to sleep peacefully—until the next time they have to play "find the baby."

[cherrycheolkat]

hi! for the bingo card, how about bedsharing + big dick mingyu? maybe mc and mingyu are best friends sharing a bed on a trip, but mingyu gets hard while sleeping. when they both wake up, gyu has morning wood and mc is aroused. what better way to solve the problem than fuck it out?

anon, thanks for submitting this ask - idk why but it just scratched my brain so i kind of went ham on it 

♡ kat

bingo squares: bed sharing + big dick!mingyu

genres: f2l, fluff, one bed, confessions, smut

summary: y/n and mingyu are best friends - they go on a weekend trip, and when there is only one bed in their room, they finally give in to their feelings

word count: 3.1k

rating: NSFW | MDNI

warnings: oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, cum eating, deep-throating

the trip to the tiny hotel had been such a nightmare. first, packing for any trip is an anxious activity for you - do you pretend to be the minimalist girlie with one bag (who you know you aren’t), or just be yourself and bring like five bags with all the options. second, it started raining, which was fine until thunder and lightening decided to join in on the game of who can kill y/n’s vibe the fastest. third, you didn’t even know, but you were waiting on tenterhooks to find out, you thought sarcastically as mingyu went to check in and you waited in the car, only jumping once when lightening struck really close. 

to be fair, your best friend was the only saving grace so far. if anything, he overlooked your overpacking and reminded you of the things you did actually need, like your toothbrush. and when the weather started to freak you out, he just distracted you by asking about that one guy at work you genuinely can’t stand and what he did that week that basically ruined your life - there were at least fifty things that had made you want to smack the guy. 

you watched him pop back out of the cute hotel - it was cute - your mutual friend had picked an extremely charming place for her ‘couples’ camping weekend. when camping started to include hotels, you had no idea, but it was in a little town with mountain views, so whatever. and as always, the fact that you and mingyu were only best friends and not part of an actual couple was never mentioned. you were just lumped together, usually with separate rooms or at least rooms that included two beds, but still. plus, up until a few weeks ago, mingyu had been part of a couple, and you weren’t planning to come this time around. 

but that didn’t matter. you carried your own bags, waving him off when he offered help - it was sweet, but he didn’t need to encourage you by lightening your load. the three bags were your problem. 

he was definitely a minimalist one bag boy, which you did envy just a bit. but if you were him and could get away with two tshirts and one pair of jeans that looked like…your mind wandered way too freely as you walked behind him, and noticed the way his jeans showed off that he did have a really nice ass. 

you blinked your thoughts away quickly as you stepped into the elevator with him and tried to avoid eye contact because you knew you might laugh and give yourself away. 

“there’s just one room,” he said as he pushed the button for the fourth floor. 

you shrugged, “it is like a smaller place,” you cringed at your lame answer and glanced at the ceiling trying to think about anything besides the fact that you had stared at his ass not two minutes earlier. words like ‘firm’ and ‘tasty’ kept popping into your mind though. 

really, he had no business being as handsome as he was. and you had no business thinking about his ass. he was supposed to be here with whatever her name was, and not you.  

you needed to get it together, but it never helped that you and mingyu weren’t just best friends. you both had a habit of ping-ponging from one bad relationship to another and always in between were things like this weekend, where you appeared as stand-in dates for one another. or longer periods where you just hung out together, watching movies and ordering food and being very domestic with each other. sometimes, you wondered when it would end, and you would really have to figure out how to make certain dishes for yourself. 

you followed him down the hall to room nine and quickly realized what the third bad thing was - there was just one bed. you tried to maintain a straight face because of course there was just one bed - he had been planning to come here with someone he was with. you glanced around, hoping for a sofa or something. you were not sharing a bed with him, that was too much. 

but it was a tiny ass, dainty, fucking hotel!! you wanted to scream. because everything was clearly focused on cute and not on practicalities like two people who definitely need two beds for their sanity. 

the thing was, you were internally dying, and mingyu was completely zen. like it was just natural that there was one bed. he was already unpacking, even. 

and yes, there were things that you had grown used to - yes, he slept in underwear only, which seemed to be a courtesy to you more than anything. and sure, he had no qualms about being shirtless - you had seen him undress way too often actually. 

but your brain was virtually desensitized to seeing his body - of course he had a perfect chest and mind boggling abs and arms that could easily fold you like an origami crane - whatever, you were used to those things. but the proximity part? that was - no! you would sleep in the bath tub first. this was the hill you would die on! you were not sharing a bed with him - it wasn’t even a big bed - it was like maybe a full size. 

you finished changing in the bathroom and opened the door, knowing you both had skincare routines. and given that there was one sink and one mirror, and your three functioning brain cells were at capacity, you appreciated that he kind of worked around you. but when you slipped past him to get out of the tight space, having only done the bare minimum of moisturizing, you felt bad for being in his way.  

you also noticed that he was surprisingly wearing sweats and a tshirt. that was new. or not, he wasn’t the type to make others uncomfortable. if he could wear clothes, then maybe there was some hope, you thought. 

and then you tried the mattress. it was insanely lumpy. every spot you tried was lump city. 

when you realized he was standing over you, you sat up like you had been caught doing something dirty. 

“it’s lumpy,” you said meekly. 

he snorted, “is it?”

you nodded. 

“it’s not so bad,” he started. 

“what? no, it’s a lumpy nightmare,” you had tried every spot. 

“i meant us sharing - you’ve been panicking since we came into the room,” he said it so softly. 

“oh,” you tried to be calm, but there was nothing past your revelation of ‘oh.’

he watched you blushing slightly, “i kind of forgot about what i booked.”

his voice was weird. he sounded almost nervous, which was weird for the most confident person you knew. 

“i mean, it’s fine - totally fine - bro,” you rambled and had possibly never sounded more ridiculous in your life. 

he laughed, his cute pointy canines on display, “bro? seriously y/n,” he giggled. 

you sighed and moved around to point out where you thought the least lumpy spots were. he hummed in response, joining you on the bed. your stomach leapt into your throat just feeling the bed shift with his added weight. 

“so here,” he leaned over you pointing, “and here,” you could hear his teasing tone. at least that was normal. 

“i’m being serious,” you gave him a playful shove, “look don’t listen and wake up tomorrow complaining ‘oh y/n my back hurts’ like no, no - i won’t be listening,” you grumbled as he flopped down, his arm sliding around your waist and pulling you close. 

“but you always listen to me whine about things,” he pouted. 

“yeah, but this is avoidable,” you totally weren’t paying attention to the fact that you were lying on top of him, or that his hands were tracing along your back - this was about mattress integrity. 

he nodded, watching you, which was annoying because it always seemed to make you shut up about things somehow. just this persistent, fairly serene way he had of watching you complain about a thing was like if the sun suddenly focused only on you and you just wilted and died. 

you sighed, thinking back to. the sharing issue - “yes, it’s basically fine - neither of us will die - and for once you’re actually wearing clothes, which is kind of wild.”

he grinned at that, “i can undress if that’s what you’re getting at,” he raised his eyebrows suggestively - it was more dorky than sexy. 

“no, please, i’ve seen enough of your irl underwear model campaigns since we’ve been friends,” you huffed, completely ignoring the way your hands seemed to be busying themselves with smoothing stray hairs from his forehead. 

“mmmh, that’s funny.”

your brows knitted together, “why?”

“because you always seem totally unaware of things like that,” he answered flatly. 

you couldn’t help that you laughed, almost directly in his face, “sorry,” you started to roll away, but he held you in place. 

you laughed again, more from nervousness, “seriously - did you just say ‘i seem unaware’? you saw me looking for the lumpy part of the mattress right?” you knew you sounded offended, but anyone implying that you didn’t pay attention to things around you was an astonishing statement - groundbreaking even. 

he nodded, “yeah, but i’m not a lumpy mattress or people at work who annoy you, so,” he trailed off. 

“so what?”

“so i assume you don’t pay attention to me quiet like that - i mean i know the color of sweaters people in your hr department wear,” he sounded fully exasperated. which was very different - that he seemed annoyed with you, maybe. 

you watched him for a moment, thinking of how to say what you wanted to say, “mingyu, if i told you all the things i notice about you,” — you had no clue where that sentence was headed and could feel maybe all of the blood in your entire body rushing to your face. you were grateful that he cut you off.

“so you do notice me then?”

you blinked slowly, hearing the question in his voice, you nodded - “is there something specific?” you asked earnestly. 

“i mean, yeah,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing ever. and he was still watching you in this way that was soft? maybe, you couldn’t put your finger on it. but you were certain your heart was beating way too fast. and that the position you were in, the literal position of you lying on top of him while you chatted about something, was suddenly feeling so familiar it was almost disturbing. 

it wasn’t an issue of not noticing - noticing way easy - it was understanding what the thing you noticed meant in context. like yes, you fully knew how fit he was, and you had deep feelings for the cute beauty marks on his nose and cheek. you appreciated all the things he did for you and certainly tried to repay him. 

you flexed your hands gently, the pads of your fingers feeling his chest - the room felt so small. if you did the wrong thing, the entire moment would shatter, so instead, you thought of all the cute, sweet things he did, and you did the thing you always wanted to do to say ‘thank you’ but had never tried because he was mingyu and too perfect for you. 

you kissed him.

for a second, you thought you had done the wrong thing until he was returning your kiss with his own. his lips were softer than you imagined. you ran your fingers through his hair, rushing to touch him before whatever magical spell came with having one bed wore off. 

at least it felt that way until he swapped your positions, and it was him kissing you - your cheeks and forehead, the gentle way his lips brushed against yours that made you moan faintly because being under him, feeling his weight and his hands holding you just where he wanted you so that he could kiss you the way he wanted was beyond your capacity. it was only made worse when you felt his soft exhale against your skin before he fully kissed you. 

it went on like that, a slow back and forth of making out and dry humping one another like teenagers. which you didn’t hate in the least. especially when you palmed him through his sweats, feeling just how big his cock was. 

“like it?” he asked, whispering against your skin.

you nodded, “i always thought it would be big,” you bit your lip gently, tracing your hand along his clothed shaft, “not this big, but big, veiny, definitely requiring some prep to take, or not if you wanted it rough - exactly the kind of dick you might describe as being ‘impaled’ on,” you smiled, never had you ever imagined you would be telling him your thoughts on his dick. 

he laughed softly, “impaled on?” he asked as he sat up.

you nodded, watching him, wondering if his natural competitiveness extended to sex, too. you imagined him doing everything to shove his entire cock into you in one go, no lube. you reached out and snapped the waistband of his underwear gently.

“want help with that? you know, so we can go to sleep,” you offered.

he nodded, letting you move between his legs while he leaned back. you pulled his pants and underwear down and eyed the horse cock you had been palming before. 

“think you can take all of it?” 

you glanced up at him, seeing the slightly fucked out way he was watching you. you only smiled and leaned close, kissing the base of his cock and licking your way to his leaking tip. 

“fuck, y/n, don’t tease,” he whined softly. 

you used your hand to guide him where you needed him, and to be fair, you knew you were good at giving blow jobs. but staring down at his dick, you were starting to understand the source of his complaints about never getting good head. his dick was intimidating, but in all fairness, you couldn’t think of anyone else’s dick you would rather choke on. 

and since he didn’t want to be teased, you decided not to hide the fact that you could deep-throat. it didn’t mean you didn’t feel tears pricking the edges of your eyes as you took him in, but why not pay him back for all the dinners he had cooked you, or at least a substantial number of them. 

your jaw was beyond relaxed by the time you had him all the way in, and even though you could feel his fingers in your hair, he wasn’t applying any downward pressure - you traced the tip of your tongue against the base of cock, just so he knew he was really that deep. 

he was mumbling a string of ‘fuck’ and ‘yes’ every five seconds - especially when you started to take him a bit faster, loving the feel of his cock stretching your mouth, even when it started to ache. you wanted him to come, though, so you started teasing his balls too, massaging them and focusing on breathing through your nose. 

you felt him pull your hair roughly - you only glanced up at him, and kept sucking him off - you knew he was close. and when he came, the way his cum went down your throat and filled your mouth - you couldn’t help swallowing around him and finally pulling back. it was just so sloppy and good.

you sat back, looking at him for a moment, enjoying his dazed look as you licked your lips, your hands pressing gently into his thighs. 

he reached out and caught the front of your tshirt, pulling you down to him - he kissed you delicately for a few minutes before going to the bathroom. you were already half asleep on the least lumpy part of the bed when he came back to curl around you for sleep. 

you woke up and immediately knew your legs were tangled with mingyu’s. you stretched a bit and pressed close to him - he pulled you even closer - you heard him mumble something and ‘baby.’ it was cute. he was cute. and you had gone down on him like it was your fucking job the night before. your face flushed, remembering it. there were things that you two didn’t discuss, and while you might know that his biggest wish was for one good blow job - you certainly had no idea about the monster he kept so well hidden in his pants, nor did he have a clue about your dick-sucking abilities. 

you shivered happily when you felt him kiss the back of your neck. you turned back and kissed him without a second thought. it was apparently way too easy to end up straddling him, reaching between you to feel his morning wood, stroking him teasingly, smiling when he started to pout. 

you leaned down, nuzzling close to him, “it’s not like we have to be anywhere, right?”

he played with your hair, “i’m supposed to play a round of golf later.”

“you and golf kill me,” you mumbled, kissing his throat. 

“you could try playing again,” he squeezed your ass roughly, “you’d look so cute in a plaid skirt - i could actually teach you how to swing the right way,” his hands drifted lower to the back of your thighs, “plus i’ve always wanted to fuck on the green.”

you laughed, “this is the fantasy you’re telling me about?”

he shrugged, “i mean, you already made one happen, so why not another?”

you looked down at him, taking in his cute bedhead, “you know we could be fucking right now?”

he nodded, and sighed, “yeah, but i like just hanging out in bed with you too,” he bit his lip gently, watching you. 

“but you’re hard,” you whined softly. 

making puppy eyes at him definitely worked. you found yourself holding onto the headboard, your back pressed to his chest, while you sat on his cock, he thrusted from below, and reached around to play with your clit. you loved how huge he was and how stretched you were. it was maybe the most pleasant way a person could be ripped in half. you were a mewling mess when you came the first time, and practically gasping for air the second time when he finally came too - his cum filling your pussy entirely, dripping down your thighs even. 

it was easy to pass out after, fully knowing he would go play golf and tell everyone you were ‘finally’ dating, as he put it. 

a/n: eeee okay, genuinely hope you like this - i know it's maybe longer than expected but i really liked them ;-;

if you want to submit a bingo ask the original bingo, is [here] and new nsfw only bingo is [here] - you can ask for squares from both

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[iannmin]

WILL IT FIT ? ⋆ 전원우

🏷️ : smut, drabble, soft!dom!wonwoo x smaller!reader, size kink, first time, intentional lowercase

🗒️: really short idea i thought of,, :)

୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹ ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆

you didn’t see it coming. and no. it’s not the typical “nerdy boy but turns into a slutty man in bed” type of trope. but much to your surprise (or we say amusement), it was the complete opposite.

clumsily sliding down his half-zipped jeans was already enough of an embarrassment to the already flushed-face wonwoo but it wasn’t. it was hot. in fact you found his bulge so awfully hot it got you absolutely glued to his outline. but of course, wonwoo didn’t get the cue.

“does it look disgusting? should we just stop here? it’s totally alright, we can just go back to playing computer games”

you didn’t listen. like some sort of mantra or spell that he magically put you under, you were straddling his thighs in a split second, not to mention, exposed too. and when poor wonwoo peeked down to have a good look at the little hole of yours, he was yet sent into another endless spiral of monologues.

“oh my goodness, it’s not gonna fit!”

“im gonna hurt you, I don’t wanna do that”

“how?”

but all words fell flat on his tongue as he watched your pussy absolutely stretch to accommodate his length, and in this situation he was put under, he learned for the first time that in fact “nothing is impossible”.

a slight “o” forming with his mouth, coupled with your breathless whimpers was enough to heighten the experience of feeling you inside, wrapped around him. and that was enough to drive him crazy, on the edge of his high, fingers digging into both sides of your waist. to you, it felt no different. wonwoo was undeniably big, probably a little bit too big for your comfort but the way his raw length dragged in and out of your hole felt too good. too fucking good.

[scoupsakakitty]

Hii I love your content! Was wondering if you could write about svt 14th member having a crazy and dangerous male sasaeng that breaks into her hotel room when they’re on tour?

Intruder in the Dark | Seventeen x 14thMember | angst

The night in Beijing was eerily quiet. The tour had been exhausting, and the entire Seventeen team—members and staff alike—were fast asleep in their hotel rooms. Y/N had passed out almost instantly, exhaustion washing over her as soon as she lay down. The dim glow of the bedside lamp flickered slightly, casting soft shadows across the room.

Then came the noise.

A soft click. The unmistakable sound of a door handle turning. It wasn’t loud, but in the silence of the night, it sent a strange shiver down her spine. Half-asleep, Y/N assumed it was just one of the boys. Maybe Woozi had misplaced his key card again, or Mingyu had come to steal snacks. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She turned onto her side, pulling the covers up, too exhausted to even check. But the sound didn’t stop. The door creaked open, slow and deliberate. Y/N’s brows furrowed. That was odd. The guys didn’t usually hesitate like this. They just barged in, announced themselves with little regard for volume, and left just as chaotically.

Something was wrong.

The air in the room shifted, a presence thickening the atmosphere. Y/N’s heart began to pick up speed. She held her breath. Maybe it was just staff. But no—staff never entered unannounced in the middle of the night.

The door clicked shut.

And then, footsteps.

Slow. Measured. Too cautious to be anyone familiar.

Fear gripped her, ice-cold and suffocating. Her breath hitched as she squeezed her eyes shut, feigning sleep, hoping—praying—that whoever it was would just leave.

But they didn’t.

The footsteps approached the bed. Closer. Closer.

A dark silhouette loomed over her.

And then, a voice.

“I finally found you.”

A nightmare come to life.

Y/N’s eyes shot open, and she froze in horror. The man standing before her was no stranger. She had seen that face before—too many times. The same twisted, obsessive eyes that followed her at airports, at venues, lurking in the shadows, always watching. A sasaeng.

Her sasaeng.

She gasped, scrambling backward on the bed, panic crashing over her in waves.

“No—No, no, no—”

The man grinned—a slow, sickening curl of his lips. “Shh, don’t be scared. I’m here now.”

Her stomach churned. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be real.

She did the only thing her body allowed her to do.

She screamed.

Loud. Desperate. Terrified.

The man lunged, his hand clamping over her mouth. “Shh—”

Y/N thrashed wildly, clawing at his arms, kicking at him with every ounce of strength she had. Panic fueled her, adrenaline surging through her veins. She bit down hard on his hand, tasting blood, and he yelped in pain, yanking his hand away.

She screamed again. “MINGYU! SEUNGKWAN! JOSHUA! HELP!”

The hallway outside was silent for a moment. Too long. Too terrifyingly long.

Then—

Footsteps. Rushed. Heavy.

The door burst open with a deafening bang.

Seungkwan and Joshua were first, eyes wide with alarm. Their gazes darted to the scene—the trembling Y/N, the sasaeng inches from her, the sheer terror in her expression.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!”

Joshua lunged first, shoving the man back. But the sasaeng fought back, pushing Joshua off and taking a wild swing. Chaos erupted. Seungkwan yelled something incomprehensible, grabbing the nearest object—a lamp—and hurling it at the intruder.

It shattered on impact, sending the sasaeng stumbling.

Y/N scrambled off the bed, her entire body shaking. She bolted towards the door, but before she could reach it, the man recovered, grabbing her wrist in a bruising grip. She screamed again, her voice raw, as she tried to wrench herself free.

Then, another voice.

“LET HER GO.”

Mingyu.

A second later, Mingyu barreled into the room, eyes blazing with fury. He didn’t hesitate. He tackled the sasaeng, sending them both crashing to the floor. Fists flew. The sound of knuckles connecting with flesh, grunts of pain, the scuffle of limbs.

The other members poured in. Security wasn’t far behind.

Outside in the hallway, Jeonghan, DK, Vernon, Dino, Woozi, Hoshi, Wonwoo, Jun, The8, and S.Coups had already been startled awake by the noise. Vernon, still groggy, frowned and asked, "Is that Y/N?"

And just as he spoke, the door to her room flew open, and Y/N came running out, tears streaming down her face. Without hesitation, she fell into the arms of the remaining ten members, shaking uncontrollably.

“What happened?” Jeonghan asked, voice laced with concern. “Are you hurt?”

“Someone broke into my room,” Y/N sobbed, gripping onto them. “A sasaeng. Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Joshua are fighting him—”

They didn’t need to hear more. Without another word, DK, Vernon, Dino, Hoshi, and Jun stormed into her room, faces set with fury.

S.Coups and The8 sprinted downstairs to get security, while Jeonghan, Woozi, and Wonwoo stayed behind with Y/N, holding her tightly as she trembled in their arms.

It took three guards and the entire force of Seventeen to restrain the sasaeng. He thrashed, screamed, but he was overpowered. Staff members called the police. The man was dragged away, his crazed eyes still locked on Y/N as he disappeared down the hall.

And then—silence.

Later, as Y/N sat on her bed, still shaking, she whispered, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Mingyu, standing beside her, nodded without hesitation. “You won’t be.”

He lay down next to her, staying alert, but as she curled up beside him, he gently ran his fingers through her hair. Slowly, her breathing steadied. And then, a soft sound—a tiny, barely audible snore.

His heart clenched. Grief. Rage. But also relief.

She was safe.

After the rest had left, they gathered outside her door, whispering angrily about what had just happened.

“We can’t let this happen again,” Hoshi hissed.

“This was way too close,” Jeonghan murmured.

“The security in this hotel is a joke,” S.Coups growled. “How did he even get in?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo said coldly. “It won’t happen again.”

Dino, still visibly shaken, suddenly sat down right outside her door. “I’m staying here tonight,” he declared. “No one gets past me.”

No one argued. Instead, they each took turns pacing, talking about reinforcing security, making sure Y/N felt safe, and ensuring something like this never happened again.

For tonight, Dino would stand guard.

And for always, they would protect her.

[pi-pop]

This was so unexpectedly good. I love how there was no backtracking on an already established plot. Like the mc was leaving meant she was leaving.

Stupid Drunken Call | C.Sc

Genre: fluff, office au!

Summary: After submitting your resignation letter, you drunkenly called your boss of seven years. After that, his behavior toward you changed unexpectedly.

You heard the elevator ding softly in the hallway—the unmistakable signal that your superior had arrived, as he did every morning at precisely this time. You stood from your desk, smoothing your blazer and preparing to greet him as usual. Moments later, he appeared: Choi Seungcheol, followed closely by Jeonghan, your colleague and his main secretary, who read the day’s schedule to him in a steady, practiced voice. Confidence radiated from both men as they walked, commanding the room's attention without trying.

When Seungcheol passed by your desk, you bowed politely, offering a respectful, “Good morning, Mr. Choi.”

He paused, surprising you by stopping in front of your desk rather than continuing down the corridor. “Morning,” he replied, his voice low but steady. After a brief pause, he glanced at you and asked, “Where’s Mingyu? Isn’t today his first day of training?”

You nodded, feeling a twinge of something bittersweet. Mingyu, a new recruit with undeniable talent, was here to train as your replacement. After seven years of routine mornings, assisting the superiors through countless meetings, projects, and unexpected crises, you were leaving. Resigning had been your choice, but the weight of this change hadn’t truly hit you until now, standing here in the familiar morning light of the office.

“Yes, Mr. Choi,” you replied with a slight smile, “He should be arriving shortly. I’ll bring him over as soon as he does.”

Seungcheol gave you a curt nod, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes before he continued down the corridor.

“Mingyu… That guy should know to be on time,” Seungcheol muttered, a hint of irritation in his voice. “His training is two months, right?”

You nodded as Jeonghan stepped out of Seungcheol’s office behind him, finally able to relax. He let out a sigh. “I can’t believe you’re really leaving.”

You offered him a knowing smile. “Me either. But it’s been seven years.”

Seven years ago, you and Jeonghan had been recruited and trained together to assist Mr. Choi, Seungcheol’s father. When Mr. Choi passed away, the board quickly assigned Seungcheol to take his father’s place. Thankfully, he was gracious enough to retain both you and Jeonghan as part of his secretary team, easing the transition for everyone.

Jeonghan suddenly looked at you with a hint of panic in his eyes. “Did you book the restaurant I asked about? Mr. Choi has that lunch meeting with the client, remember?”

You gave him a thumbs-up. “All set. I even double-checked that they have vegan options on the menu.”

Jeonghan clutched his chest dramatically. “I have no idea how I’ll manage after you leave me with Mingyu!”

Just then, a tall, slightly disheveled guy with a backpack hurriedly appeared, out of breath and looking a little flustered. “Sorry I’m late!” Mingyu panted, giving you both a quick nod. “There was an accident—the bus I took lost a wheel!”

You and Jeonghan exchanged unimpressed glances, trying not to laugh at Mingyu’s unusual excuse. He was here to take over your position, but it was clear he had some big shoes to fill—and that he might need a few more lessons in time management.

After the lunch meeting, Jeonghan placed a takeout box on your desk, right as you were deeply focused on the manual you were putting together for Mingyu. You glanced up, intrigued by the unexpected treat.

“Mr. Choi finally declared his favorite secretary,” Jeonghan announced, leaning casually against your desk with a sly grin.

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Really?” you asked, your tone dripping with doubt. In all your years working for Seungcheol, he had never done anything like this.

Jeonghan nodded, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Is there something going on between the two of you that I don’t know about?” His tone was teasing, hinting at the kind of office romance you'd only read about in novels.

Rolling your eyes, you smirked. “You wish. Besides, you know he’s dating that model,” you replied, thinking of the stunning woman Seungcheol had brought to a recent social event.

Jeonghan shrugged nonchalantly. “Maybe he’s softened up since you handed in your resignation. Maybe he’s finally realized what an incredible secretary he’s losing.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Shut up!”

Before Jeonghan could reply, your phone rang, interrupting the moment. On the third ring, you picked it up, recognizing Seungcheol’s deep voice on the other end, summoning you to his office. Through the glass wall of his office, you noticed him looking—no, glaring—your way. You weren’t entirely sure what he was thinking, but the intensity of his gaze made you stand up quickly, leaving no time for second-guessing.

“He called. Gotta go,” you said to Jeonghan, setting down the phone and straightening your blazer.

He gave you an exaggerated nod and moved back to his own desk across from yours. “Alright, Ms. Secretary,” he called after you with a wink, making it clear that the teasing was far from over.

You knocked on the office door before opening it and stepping inside. Seungcheol was there, his suit jacket draped over his chair, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The sight of him in this more casual state threw you off, even if only for a moment—you were never fond of this job, but professionalism kept you grounded.

You bowed politely, standing a respectful two meters from his desk, hands clasped in front of you. As he looked up from his paperwork, his gaze lingered on you, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. You felt oddly exposed under his scrutiny.

“Are you always this rigid, Ms. Ji?” he asked, a slight scoff in his voice.

You blinked, caught off guard. Had you been? “I’ve always been this way, sir,” you replied, keeping your tone professional. You prided yourself on maintaining boundaries; that’s why you were leaving—to stay true to your professionalism.

He nodded thoughtfully. “What do you think of Mingyu?”

Resting his chin on his clasped hands, he watched you intently as you spoke. “From what I’ve seen, he’s quick, sharp, and adaptable, which is promising. He’s also retained everything I’ve shown him so far, so I don’t think you need to worry.”

Seungcheol nodded, but you caught a hint of dissatisfaction in his expression. It seemed there was something he didn’t quite like about Mingyu, though he didn’t say so outright.

“He can be a little clumsy,” you admitted, recalling with a slight grimace how Mingyu had spilled Seungcheol’s coffee that morning. “But he’s working on it.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “Yes, please guide him well. Are you sure two months will be enough?”

After this morning, you weren't so sure. But prolonging your stay here wasn’t an option you wanted to consider. “I’ll ensure he makes significant progress within two weeks, sir. If more time is needed, I’ll let you know.”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, and you took this as your cue to leave. But you couldn’t help noting how strange this was. Oddity number two: he rarely called you into his office; normally, communication was handled over phone or email. That, combined with the unexpected lunch takeout, left you wondering if this was all coincidence—or if something had shifted in Seungcheol's usual demeanor.

“You can go, Y/n,” Jeonghan called out as he wrapped up his final check of the materials for tomorrow’s meeting, catching you by surprise.

“Who says?” You turned, eyes wide.

“The boss himself,” he replied with a smirk. “I know he’s been acting a little strange. Face it, Y/n—he’s trying to keep you here. I think he’s finally realized just how essential you are to this place,” Jeonghan added playfully.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you grabbed your things. “I’m flattered, but I’m taking this as my cue to go. It’s been so long since I finished work at this hour,” you said, smiling as you headed for the elevator.

Once outside, you flagged down a cab, sinking into the back seat as it pulled away. You couldn’t help but reflect on the day. Oddity number three: Seungcheol letting you go home early.

Staring out the window at the city lights, you resolved to stay focused. You’d given this company seven years—enough was enough. You were moving forward, and no amount of unexpected gestures could change your decision.

*

You sat uncomfortably in Seungcheol's car as he drove the two of you to a lunch meeting with Hong Group. Normally, you'd be the one arranging transportation, but today you hadn’t. In fact, you couldn't—because you didn’t know how to drive. You still remembered the brief flash of surprise in his eyes before he smoothly took the driver’s seat, saving you the trouble of calling a driver at the last minute.

“I’m sorry, sir, I should’ve arranged for a driver earlier,” you mumbled, embarrassed. For the first time in your career, you felt humiliated by something so trivial. Maybe you really should take driving lessons after this.

Seungcheol only chuckled behind the wheel. Ahead, a sea of cars sat at a standstill in traffic, making you curse yourself a little more for this uncomfortable situation.

“It’s alright,” he reassured, glancing over. “It’s been a while since I’ve driven myself, actually. Jeonghan usually handles it—and he’s a great driver.”

As he turned his attention back to the road, you recalled Jeonghan’s parting words before you left the office. “See? I told you—he’s trying to win your heart, Y/n,” Jeonghan had teased, though you’d brushed it off.

The silence stretched, until Seungcheol finally broke it. “Is it rude to ask why you don’t drive?” He sounded curious, as if this was unusual for someone in your position.

“Oh, it’s just... a bit of a silly reason,” you admitted. “I’m actually scared of driving.” You glanced down, hesitating. Even just sitting in the front seat made your heart race a little; the thought of being behind the wheel terrified you.

He seemed to take that in, and then, with surprising gentleness, asked, “But are you comfortable now? You seem a bit tense.”

You were caught off guard but exhaled, realizing he’d noticed your fidgeting hands and the way you avoided looking at the road ahead. “I’m fine, sir. I’m sorry if I seem distracted,” you said quickly, grateful when the restaurant finally came into view.

Inside, Seungcheol introduced you to Mr. Hong and his son, Joshua. As the three men began discussing business, you took notes on key points. Seungcheol was interested in investing in Joshua’s new automotive line, and you tried to focus, but following the conversation was difficult. Every so often, Mr. Hong or Joshua would turn to you for your opinion, and you felt your confidence waver. This wasn’t your area of expertise; Jeonghan was the one who shone in meetings like these. You started to regret agreeing to join the lunch.

“You didn’t seem to enjoy lunch earlier,” Seungcheol commented as the two of you headed back to the office, now seated in the back while the driver took over. You were relieved you’d managed to arrange a driver before the meal ended, sparing you from any more time on the front seat.

“Oh, no, sir. I enjoyed it very much,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. But even as you spoke, you had the strange feeling that he’d seen through you.

Seungcheol sighed softly, then spoke to the driver, instructing him to close the soundproof partition between the front and back seats. Your curiosity stirred—why would he need privacy? But the next thing he did startled you even more. He turned, looking at you with an expression you’d never seen on his face before: a mix of hesitation and vulnerability.

“Let me be honest,” he began, his voice low and sincere. “When you first submitted your resignation letter, I wasn’t bothered. I thought you simply wanted to develop your career in ways that maybe our company couldn’t provide.”

Your breath caught, heart thudding as you tried to anticipate where he was going with this.

“But when you called that night…” he continued, pausing as if weighing his next words. “I—I felt like a very bad person. I didn’t realize how my actions might have affected you, and for that, I want to apologize, Ms. Ji.”

His words struck you like a bolt, leaving you reeling. What was he talking about? What call?

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since,” he went on, his gaze never leaving yours. “And your idea… it seemed very tempting. So if the offer is still valid, I’d like to take you up on it.”

What on earth was he talking about?

You felt panic creeping in as you tried to process his words. You called him? You couldn’t remember ever calling Seungcheol outside of office hours, let alone making him an offer. And what kind of offer could you possibly make to someone who, practically speaking, owned your career for the next two months?

Heart pounding, you took a steadying breath, unsure of what to say. Yet the words slipped from your lips before you could stop them. “Of course, sir…” you heard yourself reply.

A small, almost relieved smile crept onto Seungcheol’s face as he turned his gaze to the window. He seemed content, as if a weight had lifted from him.

Was it about your resignation? Had you asked to delay your departure without remembering it? Jeonghan had hinted that Seungcheol might not want you to leave. Or was it something else entirely? Questions buzzed through your mind as the car pulled up to the company building.

“Talk to you later, Ms. Ji,” Seungcheol said, his face lighting up with the dopiest smile you’d ever seen on him as he exited the car.

Jeonghan, waiting by the entrance, raised an eyebrow, clearly as perplexed as you felt. Mingyu, the new hire, looked at you like he’d seen a ghost, noting the stunned expression on your face and your unusually pale complexion.

*

You did call him.

You really did, the night after you submitted your resignation letter—the night when you grabbed can after can of beer, drowning yourself in them like a madwoman, trying to forget everything.

You let out a heavy sigh, collapsing onto the bed. What happened that night when you called him? Why was he suddenly treating you so differently? And what exactly was the offer he mentioned this afternoon?

You felt the weight of the questions pressing down on you, swirling in your mind, but no answers came. Just more confusion.

Your phone rang, startling you. The caller ID displayed Choi Seungcheol, your very boss himself, calling you outside of working hours.

"Good evening, Mr. Choi. Is something wrong?" you answered, your voice betraying a hint of confusion.

You could hear him chuckling on the other end. "I can't call you?"

The casual tone caught you off guard. "Yes—I mean, no! I just thought… you never call at this hour, so I assumed you needed help with something."

"Actually, I do. I was looking over the presentation you sent me this morning, and I need you to get it ready by tomorrow morning."

Wait, he sent you home early, yet now he expected you to work overtime?

You couldn’t help but wonder: Is this the reason I wanted to leave this company?

"Please let me know which section you want me to edit," you said, trying to remain professional.

"No, actually… I’m in the office right now. Come in, and I’ll show you exactly what I need."

Great, you thought to yourself.

"Alright… I'll be there," you replied, hanging up.

Thirty minutes later, you arrived at the office. The lights in Seungcheol’s office were on, and you could feel a knot forming in your stomach. You knocked on the door, announcing your presence.

"I'm sorry to drag you back here," Seungcheol said as you entered. "I need this material first thing in the morning."

You walked over to his desk, studying the part of the presentation he wanted changed. As you did, he stood and stepped aside, letting you sit in his chair to examine the presentation on his computer—he hadn’t printed anything out.

"Jeonghan had to leave. Today’s his anniversary with his girlfriend," Seungcheol added, his tone almost apologetic.

You nodded in acknowledgment. "You know, I didn’t want to be the jerk boss who makes him stay late on his anniversary," Seungcheol said.

You tilted your head slightly, waiting for him to continue.

"I called you because, well… I’m already the jerk boss to you," he added, his voice lighter than before.

"Sorry?" Your hand froze over the mouse as you processed his words.

Seungcheol let out a soft, almost playful laugh. "You called me a jerk boss that night, Ms. Ji."

Your heart skipped a beat. His casual tone, combined with the unexpected mention of that night, made you feel a sudden heat rise to your cheeks.

You had a blind date that night—the first one in seven years, after working yourself to the bone for Seungcheol. But just as you were getting ready, Seungcheol sent you a voice note an hour before you were supposed to leave. He needed you to reschedule his entire agenda for next week because he was taking a vacation.

A vacation. Was it with the supermodel girlfriend he’d brought to the last social event?

With a heavy sigh, you dove into his agenda, making calls, negotiating with a dozen third parties. It took far longer than you expected. And by the time you finally finished, you received a text from your date.

"If you're too busy with your work, let’s cancel our date."

The words hit you harder than you expected. You remembered crying all week because of Seungcheol, how he had treated you so poorly, despite everything you had done for the company. That was it. You were done. You made up your mind—you were going to resign. You wrote up your resignation letter and handed it to him first thing in the morning.

The night after, you drowned yourself in cans of beer. And somewhere between the haze of alcohol and frustration, you remembered calling him.

“Jerk!”

You heard nothing on the other end.

“Jerk! Are you there?” you called again, louder this time, the anger boiling in your voice. Finally, he responded, his voice tight with confusion. “Ms. Ji, are you drunk?”

“Don’t ask me if I’m drunk! The reason I’m drunk right now is you!” you snapped.

“Ms. Ji? Where are you?” His voice softened, but you could hear the undercurrent of concern.

You chuckled bitterly. “Don’t act like you care. All you’ve done these years is take advantage of your quiet secretary. You’ve never treated me fairly, but I’ve been doing everything for you, bending over backward for the company. You're a jerk!"

And then the words you’d held in for so long spilled out in a rush. “And what? You’re going off on a vacation with your model girlfriend while I’m stuck here, working my ass off on your schedule? You’re a total jerk, Choi Seungcheol! You heard that?”

*

You gasped as the memory of that conversation came rushing back, like a freight train you couldn’t escape. Your hands shot up to cover your mouth, and your eyes widened. You did call him a jerk.

"I missed my blind date last week because of you, Choi Seungcheol! Do you know how lonely I've been, working for you? I bet you don’t, because you're off gallivanting with your supermodel girlfriend while I’m stuck with your endless schedule!"

"Ms. Ji, I don’t have a—" Seungcheol started, but you cut him off, your words coming faster than your brain could keep up.

"How are you going to take responsibility for that, huh, Mr. Choi? Do you even want to be my date? No? Well, then there’s no reason for me to stick around. I’m out of here! I’m leaving, you jerk! You big, dumb, heartless jerk boss!"

You leaned back in his chair like you were starring in your own drama series, dramatic pause and all. Of course, you tried to keep your distance, but Seungcheol was standing right next to you, practically breathing down your neck. The closest you could get to escaping was a meter away—one meter—as if that would be enough to save you from this mortifying moment. You could practically hear the earth laughing at you, but not helping you disappear.

"You remember now?" Seungcheol’s voice was amused, like he’d just stumbled upon a hidden gem. "I see, you forgot about it. No wonder you’ve been acting all... normal since then."

You should’ve been taking a dramatic exit, but instead, your brain was screaming for you to run to the nearest plane out of the country. You were so done.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Choi. It was... I mean, I... It’s just..." You froze, completely out of words. The awkward silence between you was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. You shoved your hands over your face, wishing you could just melt into the desk.

You quickly tried to apologize, your voice trembling slightly. "I—I'm really sorry, Mr. Choi. I didn’t mean to... to... say all that. It was just the alcohol talking, you know? I wasn’t thinking clearly."

Seungcheol paused for a moment, his expression shifting from teasing to something more thoughtful. He didn’t look angry. In fact, he seemed... grateful? “You know, I actually appreciate your honesty. I didn’t realize how badly I’ve been treating you.” His eyes softened as he continued, “I guess it took you saying all that for me to really get it.”

You blinked, not sure how to respond. Was this really happening? Did Seungcheol just thank you for calling him a jerk? You were still in shock, but it felt... different now. Not bad, just unexpected.

Seungcheol leaned forward, his voice suddenly turning serious. “You called me a jerk, but... about that offer to be your date—" He paused, glancing at you with a small, almost mischievous smile. "I meant it."

You immediately shook your head, trying to dismiss the idea. "Oh, no, no, no," you quickly interjected, waving your hands dismissively. "Please, forget that, Mr. Choi. Besides, you have a girlfriend. I’m not about to get mixed up in that drama."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, unfazed. He didn’t back down. “I’m serious, Ms. Ji. I want to take you out. No work, no obligations, just you and me. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

You looked at him incredulously, half-laughing to yourself. "Are you... are you really serious right now?"

Seungcheol nodded, his voice low and sincere. “Dead serious. I know I messed up, but I’d like a chance to make it right. To be something more than just your boss. So, what do you say?”

You immediately felt a strange flutter of something in your chest. The idea of dating Seungcheol seemed ridiculous—too complicated, too messy. You had spent so much time thinking about leaving, about cutting ties with this company. You had worked your ass off for him, and now he was here, offering something completely different. Something unexpected.

You quickly shook your head again, trying to keep your composure. "I—I'm not sure what you're trying to do here, but I don't think dating you is the solution to this... whatever this is."

Seungcheol’s expression softened. “I’m not trying to fix anything, Ms. Ji. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t leave with regrets... especially when it comes to me.” His gaze held yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “So, just think about it, alright? No pressure.”

The words hung in the air, and despite your best efforts to shake the idea off, a small voice inside you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like...

Seungcheol let out a small, knowing smile as you kept shaking your head, clearly trying to dismiss the idea. "You know," he began, his tone suddenly light, "I don't actually have a girlfriend."

You froze, your hand halfway through waving him off. "What?"

"I don’t have a supermodel girlfriend," he repeated, leaning back slightly, his arms crossing casually over his chest. "I mean, I might’ve brought someone to a social event, but that doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend. You assumed a lot, didn’t you?"

*

"What's going on between you and him?" Jeonghan asked, raising an eyebrow as he stepped out of Seungcheol's office this morning.

You glanced at him, raising your own brows. "What do you mean?"

Jeonghan rolled his eyes with a knowing smirk. "I saw you two stepping out of his car with a driver."

You shrugged nonchalantly. "We met on our way."

Jeonghan hummed, unconvinced. "He always drives himself to work, but today he brings a driver? Suspicious," he said, walking back to his desk with a grin.

You tried to shake off Jeonghan’s teasing and focused on your work. You walked over to Mingyu’s desk, where he was already sorting through some papers. "These two haven’t fixed yet, so you need to make a call and finalize the date and time with the other party," you instructed. Mingyu immediately nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

As you turned back to your desk, your phone rang, and you quickly rushed to pick it up. Your eyes flickered to Seungcheol’s office, where he was standing by the door. You answered the call just as he made eye contact with you.

"Ms. Ji?" Seungcheol’s voice was calm but warm.

"Yes, Mr. Choi?" you replied.

"Do you have any plans for lunch?" he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

You paused for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected question. "Uh, no, not yet," you answered, trying to keep your voice steady. "Why?"

"Great. Come to my office, then. I’d like to discuss something with you," he said, before hanging up.

You knocked softly on Seungcheol's office door before stepping inside. He was sitting at his desk, looking as composed as ever, but there was a warmth in his expression when he saw you.

"Ms. Ji," he greeted, his voice smooth. "Come in. Have a seat."

You hesitated for a moment, then took a seat across from him. The silence lingered briefly before he spoke again, his tone more casual than usual.

"I was thinking, since it’s almost lunch hour, why don’t we go out and grab something to eat?" he suggested, leaning back in his chair slightly. "I’ll let you pick the place. Anywhere you want."

You blinked, caught off guard by the offer. This was... unexpected. Was he being genuine? Or was this just another one of his attempts to be "nice" when it suited him? You tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help the feeling of unease creeping in.

"You... want me to pick the place?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?"

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. "Of course. I’m sure you know better than I do what’s good around here."

You thought for a moment. Choosing a lunch spot was something you usually did for Seungcheol, not with Seungcheol. Usually, lunch was a quick, impersonal affair—grab something from the café downstairs or eat at your desk. But today, the offer felt different. You couldn’t deny that a part of you was curious about what he was really up to.

"Alright, I’ll choose," you said, feeling a little bold. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you if it turns out to be something too casual for your taste."

Seungcheol raised his hands in mock surrender. "I’ll trust your judgment," he said with a grin. "Lead the way."

You nodded and stood up, your mind already racing through the possibilities of where to go.

"Thanks for the meal, Mr. Choi!" Mingyu cheered as he eagerly began inhaling his food, Jeonghan following suit with a satisfied hum. Seungcheol, however, sat at the head of the table with a polite but strained smile, poking at his food with none of Mingyu's enthusiasm.

You leaned closer, lowering your voice. "Is it to your liking, Mr. Choi?"

He sighed, briefly meeting your gaze before nodding curtly. "It’s fine," he replied, though his tone suggested otherwise.

It dawned on you too late that you might have misunderstood him earlier. When he said he wanted to have lunch, you assumed it was a casual team lunch with all the secretaries—Mingyu and Jeonghan included. So, you’d taken the liberty of booking a four-seat table at a decent restaurant and informing everyone.

You hadn’t noticed until now that Seungcheol’s face had been slightly sour since stepping out of his office.

"Is this one of those farewell lunches for Ms. Ji?" Mingyu asked innocently in the middle of the meal, completely oblivious to the tension brewing.

Everyone froze. Jeonghan shot Mingyu a sharp look, and you cringed, knowing full well your resignation was still a sensitive topic for Seungcheol. It had only been three weeks since your notice, and the new secretary-in-training was nowhere near your level of efficiency. No boss wanted to lose a competent staff member, especially not one they relied on as much as Seungcheol relied on you.

Seungcheol’s fork paused mid-air before he cleared his throat and shook his head. "If this were a farewell lunch, it would need to be much grander than this, don’t you think, Mr. Yoon?"

Jeonghan immediately nodded, catching on to the unspoken signal. "Absolutely, Mr. Choi. I’ll start planning one later. Ms. Ji has been with you for seven years—it’s only fitting to make it a big celebration."

Your eyes widened in surprise as you shook your head. "No, no. Really, there’s no need for that. It’s not exactly something to celebrate," you insisted, feeling a mix of awkwardness and guilt.

Seungcheol set down his fork and leaned back slightly, his gaze firmly on you. His lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, don’t be like that, Ms. Ji. I’d like to treat you to something you’ll never forget."

You froze, feeling your face heat up at the deliberate weight of his words. Before you could process what he’d just said, you choked on your food, your eyes watering as you coughed violently. Jeonghan jumped into action, handing you a glass of water while Mingyu leaned forward in concern.

"Are you okay?" Mingyu asked, looking genuinely worried.

You nodded hastily, gulping down the water while avoiding Seungcheol’s gaze. Meanwhile, the man in question calmly resumed eating his meal, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, as if he hadn’t just dropped that bombshell in front of his other staff.

Jeonghan and Mingyu exchanged curious glances, clearly aware that something unusual was going on. You, however, were too busy trying to regain your composure to notice. This lunch was not turning out the way you’d imagined.

"Ms. Ji... I'll drive you home," Seungcheol announced as he stepped out of his office, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

You glanced up, startled, and then looked around the empty office. Jeonghan and Mingyu had already left, leaving you alone to crosscheck everything before calling it a day. "I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Choi. I’ll just take the bus," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Seungcheol frowned, clearly displeased. "Why? The bus is going to be packed at this hour." He checked his watch, then shifted his gaze back to you. His expression softened, but his stance remained firm as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"And besides," he continued, his lips curving into an easy smile, "I want that dinner date. Just the two of us."

Your breath hitched before you could stop it. "Mr. Choi... I..." You trailed off, your brain scrambling to process his words. A dinner date? With him? The thought sent your heart racing in ways you didn’t want to admit.

He shrugged, utterly unbothered by your flustered state. "I told you, Ms. Ji, I’d like to be your date. I want to get to know you better," he said, his tone so casual it was almost maddening.

Then, as if he had just decided on the matter, he clapped his hands together and straightened up. "Alright then, I’ll book a restaurant for dinner. We can watch the sunset beforehand." Without waiting for your response, he turned on his heel and disappeared into his office, leaving you standing there, utterly baffled.

Dinner? Sunset? With your soon-to-be ex-boss? Your mind raced. This was either going to be the most surreal experience of your life—or a disaster waiting to happen.

*

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.

All the material for this morning’s meeting had disappeared from your computer, and to make matters worse, it seemed like your system had been attacked by a virus. Your computer was practically frozen and would need time to be repaired. Glancing at your watch, you realized there was only an hour left before the meeting started. Panic clawed at your chest as you made a beeline for Seungcheol’s office.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing you,” you blurted out, cutting into Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s morning conversation as you barged into the room, not bothering with pleasantries.

“What’s wrong, Ms. Ji?” Seungcheol asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

“My computer’s been attacked by a virus, and I can’t access the materials for the morning meeting. Is it okay if I use your computer, Mr. Choi?”

Without hesitation, Seungcheol stood from his chair, gesturing for you to take his place. “Go ahead.”

You quickly logged into his system and started searching, your fingers flying over the keyboard. But as you combed through his files, a sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “You can’t find it either?” Seungcheol’s voice broke the tense silence, sounding as baffled as you felt. “I’m sure I finalized the file and saved it. It should be here.”

“It’s gone,” you said grimly, turning to look at him. “Even the recycle bin is empty.”

“What about Mingyu? Does he have a backup?” Jeonghan asked as you all hurried out of Seungcheol’s office, heading to the workstation to regroup.

You shook your head in frustration. “I haven’t handed the final version over yet. Mingyu only manages the schedules and documents that need signing."

Jeonghan patted your shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay, don’t panic. We’ll figure it out. We can finish this in 30 minutes if we work together.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and sat at Jeonghan’s desk, taking over his computer. Opening the last version of the file, you began revising it at a frantic pace. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately,” you muttered, your fingers trembling slightly as you typed. “Maybe I’ve been too distracted.”

Jeonghan shook his head, offering a small smile. “You’ve been juggling so much; it’s bound to happen. Just focus—we’ve got this.”

The clock ticked closer to the meeting time, and the pressure mounted. Mingyu darted into the room, his face lined with worry. “The printer broke down,” he said apologetically. “She’s trying to fix it, but it’ll take at least five more minutes.”

Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Great. Just what we needed.”

In the meeting room, heads of departments and their assistants were already seated, shuffling in their chairs as they sipped coffee and waited. Mingyu quickly returned, distributing refreshments in an effort to keep them placated.

“Is everything settled?” Seungcheol asked as Jeonghan re-entered his office, his voice calm but tinged with impatience.

“I’m afraid we’ll need to delay the meeting. It’s taking longer than expected to fix everything,” Jeonghan admitted.

Seungcheol nodded thoughtfully, glancing at his watch. “Announce to everyone that the meeting will start in fifteen minutes. I’ll handle the delay personally.”

Jeonghan gave a quick nod, rushing out to relay the message, while you continued frantically typing at Jeonghan’s desk. Though the tension was palpable, you reminded yourself to stay calm. There wasn’t any room for error now.

“Focus, Ms. Ji,” you whispered to yourself, steeling your nerves as you worked against the clock.

“The meeting is delayed for 15 minutes, and you printed out the wrong document?” Mr. Park, the head of the marketing department, raised his voice, his tone cutting through the tense air as you handed out the material.

You froze, glancing down at the section he was pointing at. Your heart dropped when you realized he was right. The document you printed wasn’t their presentation—it was entirely unrelated. You were sure it was the correct file when you sent it to print, but now, staring at it, there was no denying the mistake.

“I’m so sorry. I’ll fix it imme—”

Before you could finish, Mr. Park threw the paper onto the table with a loud thud. “This is unacceptable! How do we expect to run a successful meeting with this level of incompetence? I knew something like this would happen when they decided to overburden the director’s secretary team instead of hiring specialized staff for each department.”

You flinched at his words, bowing your head in shame. Whispers broke out among the other heads of departments. Some seemed to agree with Mr. Park, nodding subtly, while others exchanged concerned looks.

The door opened, and Seungcheol stepped in, his commanding presence making everyone rise to their feet. His sharp eyes scanned the room, immediately locking onto you, standing there with your head lowered, tension radiating off your frame. Papers were scattered across the table, a clear sign of discord.

Seungcheol’s gaze flicked to Mingyu, who leaned in to whisper a quick explanation. As Seungcheol listened, his jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. Straightening his posture, he addressed the room with a calm but authoritative tone.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Ji, for your hard work,” he began, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “Someone from the marketing department, please accompany Ms. Ji to ensure the correct material is printed this time.”

His eyes shifted to Mr. Park, who immediately lowered his gaze, uncomfortable under Seungcheol’s direct attention. “It takes patience to get things right,” Seungcheol added, his tone firm but controlled, “and patience is something we all need to practice.”

You felt a rush of gratitude and embarrassment as Seungcheol diffused the situation, taking the spotlight off you. Nodding quickly, you turned to one of the marketing assistants, signaling them to follow you out of the room.

As you left, Seungcheol’s calm but commanding words lingered in the room, leaving no space for further criticism. Instead, the atmosphere shifted as everyone quietly reorganized themselves for the meeting ahead.

*

"You're not taking lunch," Seungcheol observed as he stepped out of his office, heading to grab a meal. He glanced around, noticing that both Mingyu and Jeonghan were nowhere to be seen—they must have left already, leaving you alone.

You shook your head, adjusting your posture in your seat. "I’m fine, Mr. Choi," you replied, your face carefully composed with professional restraint.

Seungcheol frowned slightly but took a few steps closer, leaning his frame casually against the edge of your desk. "Is it because of what happened this morning?" he asked, his tone softer now.

You hesitated before shrugging, unable to completely mask the frustration bubbling under your calm exterior. "I mean... I can’t just shake it off like nothing happened. And honestly, I’m sorry for messing up like that."

He crossed his arms and tilted his head, studying your face. "This is the first time, isn’t it?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I can’t believe it myself. Seven years without a major mistake, and then this happens," you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Seungcheol let out a quiet chuckle, the sound both warm and reassuring. "That’s an improvement, then. No one goes seven years without a single mistake—it just means you’re human."

You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a faint, tired smile. "And that’s exactly the point, Mr. Choi. I’ve set a standard for myself, and now I’ve blown it. Maybe Mr. Park was right—I might really be incompetent."

His expression hardened at your words, and he straightened slightly. "That’s not how I see it, Ms. Ji," he said firmly. "Whatever Mr. Park said has no bearing on your competence. I supervise you, and I know the quality of your work better than anyone here."

His confidence in you was disarming, and you found yourself relaxing just a little under his steady gaze. "Thank you, Mr. Choi. That means more than you realize," you admitted softly, your voice almost breaking with relief.

Seungcheol glanced at his watch and then back at you. "We’ve got thirty minutes left before the break ends," he said thoughtfully. His eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "What do you say we grab some sandwiches together? My treat."

The offer caught you off guard. You blinked up at him, unsure whether to accept or refuse. "Are you sure?" you asked cautiously, not wanting to impose.

"Positive," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You’ve been beating yourself up all morning. A good sandwich and some fresh air might do you good. Come on."

With a reluctant but grateful nod, you stood up. For the first time since the chaotic meeting earlier, you felt a flicker of comfort creeping back into your day.

"I thought we were going to sit down and eat," you said, taking a bite of your sandwich while walking back to the company building.

Seungcheol’s suit had been left behind in his office, leaving him in a dark grey dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His tie was loosened slightly, giving him an unexpectedly casual air as he took a bite of his own sandwich. He shook his head at your comment, chewing quickly. "We don’t have time for that," he said, his voice muffled.

You giggled at the sight of him, noticing a crumb stuck on his cheek. "You’ve got something on your face," you said, pointing.

He immediately tried to wipe it off but missed.

"Here, let me," you offered, stepping closer. Without a second thought, you used a napkin to gently clean his cheek. Your fingers brushed his skin briefly, and Seungcheol froze mid-chew, his eyes locking on yours.

"All clean," you said, stepping back with a smile before taking another bite of your sandwich, oblivious to the faint blush creeping up his neck.

"I told you not to call me Mr. Choi when we’re outside," he teased, trying to mask his flustered expression.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "It’s weird to call you casually when I’ve been calling you Mr. Choi for the past seven years."

Seungcheol’s expression shifted slightly, a thoughtful look settling on his face. "Last night," he began, his voice softer now. "When you told me why you don’t drive anymore…"

Your steps faltered for a moment, but he stopped completely at the crosswalk as the pedestrian signal turned red.

"Did it happen here?" he asked gently, his eyes scanning the intersection.

You nodded, the food in your hand suddenly feeling much heavier. The memory, though buried, resurfaced vividly as if it had happened yesterday.

Seven years ago. You’d just started working with Seungcheol after his father had passed away, and the transition had been anything but smooth. Unlike his father, Seungcheol had seemed colder, more distant. His way of doing things clashed with what you were used to, and the tension in the secretary team had been palpable—especially for you.

That morning, your car had broken down, and you’d decided to walk to get Seungcheol’s favorite coffee. You were already flustered, trying to make a good impression despite your frustrations with him. Then, everything changed.

You had witnessed it—a car collision right before your eyes. The screeching tires, the bone-chilling sound of impact, the desperate cries of onlookers. And then, the blood. You still remembered how it splattered onto your blouse and face, how your legs had frozen in place, unable to move.

"Y/n? Where are you? We have a meeting in an hour, and Mr. Choi has been asking for his coffee," Jeonghan had called, his voice impatient through the phone.

You’d managed to drag yourself to the office after buying a new blouse, your hands trembling the entire time. Yet, instead of compassion, you’d been met with Seungcheol’s sharp reprimand for forgetting his coffee. The sting of that moment had stayed with you for years.

And now, you couldn’t believe you had shared it all with him last night, over casual conversation, when he’d asked why you no longer drove.

The pedestrian signal turned green, snapping you out of your thoughts. But before you could move, a hand gently gripped yours.

Seungcheol’s warm fingers curled around yours, grounding you in the present. He led you across the road, his pace steady, his grip firm yet comforting.

You glanced at him, surprised by the gesture. His gaze remained forward, focused on the path ahead. Yet, the warmth of his hand in yours spoke volumes, a quiet reassurance that lingered even after you’d crossed the street.

*

The complaints began to pour in like an unrelenting tide. Every time you opened your inbox, you found more emails from department heads, their tone varying from formal discontent to outright disdain. Words like incompetence, unprofessional, and unacceptable were repeated so often they seemed to blur together, creating a cloud of frustration and doubt in your mind.

What made it worse were the thinly veiled accusations of favoritism. Several emails implied that Seungcheol’s supposed bias toward you was undermining the secretary team’s performance and credibility. The insinuation was like a dagger, cutting into the team’s morale and creating an atmosphere heavy with unease.

It wasn’t long before you noticed the shift among your colleagues. Mingyu, usually cheerful and talkative, had grown quieter. His usual playful remarks were absent during lunch breaks, replaced by an awkward silence. Even Jeonghan, who always maintained an easygoing demeanor, seemed troubled, though he tried to hide it behind his usual smirks and teasing words.

“Ignore those emails,” Jeonghan said one afternoon, leaning against your desk. He spoke casually, but his eyes held a seriousness that betrayed his concern. “It’s the marketing department stirring up trouble again. They’ve been trying to undermine the secretary team for years.”

You glanced at him, startled. “Why would they do that? What do they have to gain?”

Jeonghan shrugged, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Power dynamics, politics, control—you name it. Ever since Mr. Choi took over, the marketing department hasn’t been happy. They thrived under his father’s management because they were given more autonomy, but Mr. Choi’s stricter policies clipped their wings. They’ve been retaliating ever since.”

“And we’re caught in the middle,” you murmured, feeling the weight of the situation settle over you.

Jeonghan nodded. “Exactly. They’re using the secretary team as a scapegoat to make Mr. Choi look bad. And now that they’ve noticed how close you and him seem lately, they’re exploiting it to fuel their narrative.”

Your stomach churned at his words. The accusations weren’t just baseless; they were carefully orchestrated attacks designed to destabilize the entire team.

“But what can we do?” you asked, your voice tinged with helplessness. “If this continues, it’ll ruin our reputation—and Mr. Choi’s.”

Jeonghan leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We fight back, but carefully. First, we need to fix the immediate issues—no more mistakes, no more complaints. Then, we gather evidence. If we can prove the marketing department is behind this sabotage, we’ll turn the tables on them.”

Seungcheol walked you to your door after he drove you home, his steps calm but purposeful. "You don’t have to worry about all the complaints," he said, his voice smooth, but there was a knowing look in his eyes as he bid you goodbye.

"You saw them too?" you asked, your voice a little strained from the weight of it all. He nodded with a small grin. "Receiving complaints is part of my job, you know," he teased, throwing you a wink as if he were trying to make light of the situation.

"So you know they’re all from Mr. Park’s people?" you asked, unable to hide the slight bitterness in your voice.

He smiled, that reassuring smile of his. "I told you, you don’t have to worry about that," he said, his tone confident, almost as if he already had everything under control.

You lowered your head, feeling the weight of it all. You were involved now, and the rumors were only growing. Whispers of your relationship with him were circulating the office, and worse, someone had posted pictures of the two of you on the company community page. It felt impossible to escape.

Seungcheol seemed to sense your unease. "Hey," he said, his voice gentle, "it’s just a month left before you leave. A little plot twist will make it great, right?" His words were meant to lighten the mood, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

He reached for your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "We’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry."

You hesitated for a moment, then asked, "You want to come inside?" You bit your lip, unsure of how he’d respond. Would he take the offer seriously, or was it too much, too soon?

After a brief pause, he sent a quick message to his driver. Moments later, he was already seated on your couch, his suit jacket and tie discarded, his sleeves rolled up casually.

"I expect this kind of vibe," Seungcheol remarked as his eyes wandered around your apartment, taking in the cozy space. His gaze lingered on everything, from the soft lighting to the quiet hum of your personal sanctuary.

"Two rooms?" he asked, a curious glint in his eyes. You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"Sometimes my brother visits. He lives in a dorm, but he stays here on his days off," you explained, your voice casual, but you felt a little self-conscious explaining it. You weren't sure why, but it felt like you were giving him a piece of your personal life you hadn’t shared with anyone before.

"He's still training for the national team?" Seungcheol asked, and you looked at him, surprised that he remembered.

"You remembered?" you asked, your voice soft with disbelief.

Seungcheol nodded, his smile warm. "Of course, it’s you."

It was a casual evening after work, everyone gathered in the break room. Jeonghan and Seungcheol had just returned from a trip, and he couldn’t wait to share some exciting news.

"My sister just got accepted into one of the top companies!" Jeonghan had announced, beaming with pride. "We’re celebrating this weekend!"

The team cheered, raising their glasses in a toast. It was a happy moment, and you couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic for the simplicity of those times.

Seungcheol had joined in, his voice nonchalant but with a hint of pride. "My brother decided to go into the culinary field instead of business," he had mentioned. "Can you believe it? A chef, not a businessman."

You’d overheard it all, and for some reason, it had stayed with you—how casually everyone shared their family stories, how different yet similar your lives were.

Seungcheol’s voice broke through your thoughts. "Do you have siblings, Ms. Ji?" he asked, his tone playful, though there was a touch of curiosity beneath the words.

"She has a brother," Jeonghan had added once, with a wink. "Do you know Ji Chang Wook, the former football player? That’s her brother."

Seungcheol raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. "Really?" he asked, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and admiration.

You nodded shyly. "He now works for the national team as their coach."

Seungcheol’s eyes softened, impressed. "That’s incredible," he said. "You’re surrounded by greatness."

You smiled at his words, feeling a swell of pride for your brother. As the conversation shifted back to the present, you placed a glass of iced tea on the coffee table for Seungcheol before settling back onto the couch next to him.

"How am i as a boyfriend?" Seungcheol suddenly asked, his question coming out of nowhere. You let out a soft chuckle at his unexpected inquiry. His gaze was playful, yet there was something deeper beneath it, as if he was genuinely waiting for your answer.

You paused, thinking about how to answer. "I don’t know that you’d be willing to go down with a mere secretary staff like me, Mr. Choi," you teased, trying to mask the flutter of uncertainty in your chest.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the "Mr. Choi." He had been correcting you ever since the beginning, insisting you call him Seungcheol.

"Can I ask you a question?" you asked, your voice tentative. He nodded, leaning in slightly, his expression serious.

"Why were you being an asshole at the beginning?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. It wasn’t the most delicate way to phrase it, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Seungcheol closed his eyes, clearly not thrilled about being reminded of his past behavior. "I was a lowly bastard, wasn’t I?" he admitted, his voice quiet, almost regretful. "I’m sorry... I was just very insecure."

"Insecure?" you repeated, surprised by his honesty.

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to brush a stray hair from your face. "My father passed away, and my brother didn’t want to take over the business. I didn’t have enough experience to rule a company. I was just trying to figure things out."

You blinked, caught off guard. "I had no idea about that."

Seungcheol nodded again, his gaze softening. "I made sure no one knew about it. But I broke down at one point, and Jeonghan helped me a lot. You did, too. You always did your best at work. But I just..." He trailed off, his fingers grazing your skin as he continued, "I didn’t want to get distracted by you. Maybe that’s why I treated you so badly."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Distracted? By me? How come?" You chuckled, still processing the idea. Was it really possible?

Seungcheol’s smile deepened, and his gaze softened. "I used to like you a lot. My father always spoke highly of you, and I couldn’t help but admire you."

"No way," you whispered, your eyes widening in disbelief.

"I’m serious," he said, his voice steady and sincere. "You were always shining at that desk of yours."

You laughed, the sound a mix of disbelief and warmth. "Since when?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

"Since you visited my house," he said, his tone turning nostalgic. "I saw how you treated my father—so professional, yet so graceful. I tried to find a secretary like you, but I guess there’s only one of you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at him, the realization settling in. Despite all the tension and confusion, there was something undeniably genuine about his words, and for the first time in a while, it felt like things between you and Seungcheol might finally be falling into place.

Seungcheol leaned in closer, his eyes fixed on your lips, the moment growing more intimate with every passing second. Just as you felt your breath hitch, the sound of someone punching in the passcode to your door broke the tension, startling both of you.

“Y/n! I brought some—” The baritone voice trailed off abruptly as the door swung open, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man carrying two plastic bags. His steps halted, and his eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. His sister, tangled up with a stranger on the couch, looking far too close for comfort.

You and Seungcheol scrambled apart, both of you stumbling to your feet as if caught red-handed.

“Did I interrupt something?” the man asked, his tone sharp and accusatory. His gaze darted between you and Seungcheol before settling on you. “Who’s this, Y/n?”

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you tried to compose yourself. “Uh... this is Choi Seungcheol, my... my boss,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol extended a hand, his expression polite and composed despite the awkwardness of the situation. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m—”

“Your boss?” the man interrupted, completely ignoring the handshake. His eyes narrowed as he turned his attention back to you. “He’s the one who made you work overtime and miss my birthday?”

You froze. Shoot. You had vented about Seungcheol to your brother countless times, never expecting him to meet the man himself.

“Oppa, it’s not like that,” you tried to explain, but your brother wasn’t having it.

“You talked ill of him to me all the time,” Changwook said, his tone laced with disbelief and a hint of anger. His grip on your arm tightened slightly as he pulled you further away from Seungcheol. “Why is he here now? In your apartment?”

Your mind raced, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t make things worse. “We’re... umm...” You waved your hands in the air helplessly, your words failing you.

Seungcheol, however, didn’t hesitate. “I’m her boyfriend,” he said firmly, his voice steady and confident as he stepped forward.

Your eyes widened in shock at his bold declaration. “That’s—” you started, but the words died in your throat as your brother’s gaze hardened, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Boyfriend?” Changwook echoed, his voice filled with skepticism as he gave Seungcheol a once-over. “Since when? And why am I just now hearing about this?”

You cringed inwardly, feeling trapped between Seungcheol’s unexpected claim and your brother’s scrutiny. The fact that you’d spent months complaining about Seungcheol didn’t help. How did I end up here?

“Changwook, calm down,” you said, trying to diffuse the situation. “It’s... new.”

“New?” your brother repeated, his frown deepening as his eyes bored into you. “How new? And why would you date your boss of all people? Especially someone you’ve always badmouthed?”

You felt the blood drain from your face. You’re dead, your mind screamed at you, but before you could even attempt a defense, your brother turned to you with an authoritative wave of his hand.

“Go to your room,” Changwook said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “This is a men’s conversation.”

*

You were trapped between two drunken men. Changwook, still pouring himself another shot of soju, mumbled incoherently about everything under the sun, while Seungcheol, clearly in no better condition, had his head dropped onto your shoulder. The weight of him was comforting yet overwhelming, especially with the alcohol fumes wafting off him.

"Our Y/n couldn’t drink dairy, so you have to make sure her latte is always with oat milk,” Changwook slurred, his words slightly jumbled as he tried to sit up straight. He pointed a wobbly finger at Seungcheol as though delivering a life-or-death instruction.

Seungcheol gasped dramatically, his head lifting momentarily before snuggling back into the crook of your neck. “Our Y/n can’t handle dairy? Oh my god, poor Y/n!” His words came out in a hushed, exaggerated whisper. “I’ll buy you tons of oat milk, Y/n. Gallons of it! So you’ll never, ever get a stomachache again!”

You tried to suppress your laugh, but a chuckle escaped as Seungcheol tightened his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck like a sleepy puppy. He smelled like soju mixed with the faint remnants of his cologne—a mix that somehow still made your heart skip.

“Alright, Mr. Gallant Knight,” you murmured, brushing his hair back gently. “Let’s get you home before you start a crusade against all dairy products.”

“Nooo,” Seungcheol whined softly, his voice muffled against your skin. “Let me stay here. I promise I won’t do anything! I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to, cross my heart.”

You shook your head, unable to contain your amusement. He was far too cute like this. “Alright, fine,” you relented with a small smile. “But we’re at least getting you into bed. Let’s get up on the count of three, okay?”

Seungcheol groaned in protest, but you felt him adjust slightly, his arms loosening around your waist.

“One,” you began, bracing yourself. “Two… three—"

You tried to pull him up, but Seungcheol, true to his drunken state, flopped back onto the couch like a boneless doll.

“Too heavy,” he mumbled, pouting. “You have to help me, Y/n. I’m weak, but you’re strong.”

“Strong?” you repeated with a laugh. “What are you even talking about? You’re twice my size!”

“Exactly,” Seungcheol replied, his tone overly serious. “That’s why you’re amazing. You’re tiny but mighty.”

From across the room, Changwook let out a grunt as he finally rose from his seat, wobbling slightly before glaring at Seungcheol. “Stop flirting with my sister, you lightweight,” he muttered, pointing a finger at him before stumbling toward his room. “And don’t you dare think about sharing a bed with her!”

“Noted, Coach Ji,” Seungcheol mumbled sleepily, waving his hand in the air.

You sighed, shaking your head as you tugged at Seungcheol’s arm again. “Come on, big guy. Let’s at least get you lying down before Changwook comes back with a lecture.”

Seungcheol finally complied, leaning heavily on you as you helped him to your room. “Thanks, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice soft. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling nonetheless. “Just don’t puke on my bed, okay?”

“I’d never,” he promised, his words slurring as he flopped onto your mattress, instantly dozing off.

You sighed again, pulling a blanket over him before retreating to the couch. As you settled in, you couldn’t help but smile at the chaos that was your life—and at the man now snoring softly in your bed.

“Where’s Mr. Choi? He’s not here yet?” Mingyu’s voice broke the usual morning buzz of the office. He glanced around, noting the conspicuous absence of the boss. It was already 8 a.m., and Mr. Choi was typically seated at his desk by 7:45, meticulously reviewing his schedule or flipping through a book.

Jeonghan checked his watch and frowned. “I know, right? He hasn’t called or texted me either. Do you think he’s sick or something?” he wondered aloud, a hint of concern creeping into his tone.

“He’s late,” you mumbled, barely glancing up from your phone as you replied.

“How do you know that?!” Mingyu and Jeonghan exclaimed in unison, their voices tinged with surprise.

“He texted me,” you replied nonchalantly, still focused on your phone.

Mingyu’s jaw dropped, and he pouted, looking genuinely hurt. “He texted you? But not me? He still doesn’t trust me with his schedule. What if he hates me?” he whined, the last part almost a whisper.

You chuckled softly, grabbing a stack of documents from your desk and placing them in front of him. “That’s why I’m tutoring you today. We’re going over how to prepare presentation materials and manage other tasks.”

Mingyu sighed dramatically but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Alright…” He reluctantly took the documents, the pout still lingering on his face, but his determination to improve was clear.

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s voice interrupted the moment. “Oh…”

Both you and Mingyu turned toward him, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” you asked, stepping over to Jeonghan’s desk.

Jeonghan didn’t answer immediately, his eyes fixed on his computer screen. His lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at something. Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned in to look.

On the screen was a post from the company’s internal community. The headline read, “Mr. Park Is Caught!” Beneath it was a photo of Seungcheol standing in the marketing department alongside the head of HR.

Your brows knitted together. “What’s that supposed to mean? Is Mr. Choi investigating him behind our backs?”

Jeonghan bit his lip, his gaze still glued to the screen. “Looks like it…” he murmured.

You quickly scanned the comments below the post. Employees from the marketing department were sharing snippets of gossip. Someone had claimed that Mr. Park had been caught falsifying records and embezzling departmental funds.

Mingyu, who had walked over to peek at the screen, let out a low whistle. “Wow. I didn’t think Mr. Park would actually get caught.”

You frowned, a mix of surprise and worry swirling in your chest. “He didn’t mention any of this to us,” you said softly, almost to yourself.

Jeonghan finally looked away from the screen, his expression thoughtful. “If he’s handling this personally, it must be serious.”

Mingyu crossed his arms, tilting his head. “Well, if Mr. Park’s really guilty, it’s good that Mr. Choi’s taking action. But why keep it so secretive? I mean, we’re his team.”

Jeonghan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It’s probably because this involves embezzlement. You know how sensitive that kind of accusation is. He probably didn’t want anyone tipping Mr. Park off before he had solid evidence.”

You nodded slowly, processing everything. “Still, I hope Mr. Choi’s being careful. This kind of situation can get messy.”

Jeonghan gave you a knowing look but didn’t say anything. Mingyu, however, turned to you with a cheeky grin. “Wow, you’re so concerned about him. Are you sure you’re not his girlfriend”

You shot him a glare, heat rising to your cheeks. “Shut up and get back to your documents, Mingyu.”

He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But seriously, I’m curious how this all plays out.”

Jeonghan nodded, his gaze returning to the screen. “Me too. If Mr. Park’s really guilty, this could shake things up in the company.”

You bit your lip, silently hoping Seungcheol would return soon—with answers.

Seungcheol’s arrival on the floor sent a wave of tension through the secretary team. His usual composed demeanor was even more rigid than usual, and without wasting a second, he summoned Jeonghan into his office. The atmosphere was thick with curiosity and unease, but you kept your head down, silently supervising Mingyu as he prepared materials for tomorrow’s meeting with all the department heads.

“So, what’s Mr. Park’s status now?” Mingyu asked, flipping through a document from the marketing department. His voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed his curiosity.

You shook your head. “I don’t know, Mingyu, and honestly, I don’t want to fill my head with too much right now. I’m leaving this company in a week, remember?”

Mingyu sighed, setting his pen down. “Yeah, I remember… But you know what? As much as I believe in myself, I can’t help but worry. What if I can’t replace you?”

You gave him a reassuring smile and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mingyu. It took me seven years to get to where I am. You’ll get there too.”

Mingyu bit his lip, nodding. “You’re right… You’re really good at comforting people, Ms. Ji,” he said playfully, his usual pout returning.

You laughed. “Of course, I am! Now, finish this and send it to me before lunch.”

Just then, Jeonghan stepped out of Seungcheol’s office, his expression unreadable. The entire team turned their attention to him as he cleared his throat.

“Mr. Park has officially been fired as of today. HR has concluded the investigation, and with all the evidence gathered, there was no room for negotiation. A replacement needs to be found as soon as possible. There’s already a potential candidate, but the final decision still needs to be made.”

A murmur spread across the room, but before you could react, Jeonghan turned to you. “Can we talk in private, Y/n?”

You blinked at him but nodded, following him to the pantry. The moment the door shut behind you, Jeonghan exhaled deeply, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Mr. Choi mentioned your name as the potential head of the marketing department.”

Your eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Jeonghan sighed, looking at you seriously. “I know it’s sudden, but he has his reasons. And honestly? After hearing him out, I found myself agreeing with him.” He still seemed surprised at himself for admitting that.

“But… next week is my last day!” you protested, your voice rising slightly in disbelief.

Jeonghan placed a firm grip on your arms, steadying you. “Listen to me—HR and Mr. Choi are definitely going to call you soon. You need to prepare yourself.”

You let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s too much responsibility! You know I was planning to travel across Asia after this.”

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head. “And that’s what you’re most worried about, huh?” His tone was amused, but there was also a hint of admiration in his eyes. “Look, whatever decision you make, I’ll support you. But just think about it, alright?”

Your mind was already spinning with the weight of the unexpected offer. A promotion just as you were about to leave? It was almost ironic.

"Ms. Ji, can you come to my office for a sec?"

You nearly jumped from your seat at the sudden sound of Seungcheol’s voice filling the secretary team’s office. The room fell silent as all eyes darted toward him. He stood behind his office door, only half of his body visible as he peeked outside, waiting for you.

You stole a glance at Jeonghan, who was already looking at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes silently sending you a thousand words of encouragement. You sighed, smoothing down your blazer before standing up and making your way to Seungcheol’s office.

The moment you stepped inside, you noticed that the blinds had been down since this morning. You figured after the confrontation with Mr. Park, he must have needed some privacy.

"Mr. Choi," you called his name softly as you stopped in front of his desk.

Without a word, Seungcheol handed you a file. You hesitated for a moment before taking it, flipping it open to find pages upon pages of evidence—proof of Mr. Park’s embezzlement during his tenure as the head of the marketing department. Your brows furrowed. This file was supposed to be confidential, a matter strictly between him and HR. So why was he showing it to you? Especially when you were set to leave in just a week?

"You told me about this last night," he said, his voice calm but firm.

Your mind raced back to your conversation with him the night before. You had mentioned it—your suspicions about the marketing department’s financial discrepancies. You had noticed missing reports from the past two years that didn’t sit right with you. And despite your reluctance, you had handed him the findings you had gathered over time.

Wait.

Your eyes flickered up to Seungcheol, your expression shifting. "You weren’t drunk?"

He smirked, leaning against the edge of his desk. "I was just acting."

Your breath hitched as the realization hit you. The way he had suddenly become lighter when he was supposedly dead weight on your shoulder last night. The way he had pulled you aside, listening intently as you spoke about the missing reports.

You didn’t remember much about how the conversation had unfolded, but somehow, in that moment, you had found the courage to show him everything.

"And you were right," Seungcheol continued, pulling out another document from his desk—your resignation letter.

Your heartbeat quickened.

"I have an offer for you," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "Be our new head of the marketing department."

Silence hung in the air.

You stood frozen, the weight of his words sinking in.

"You’re probably the only person who knows the ins and outs of the marketing department better than anyone else," he reasoned, his voice steady. And he wasn’t wrong. You had spent the past seven years collecting reports, reviewing files, and meticulously studying every department before handing them over to him. You knew how the department functioned, where its strengths and weaknesses lay.

But despite the logic in his argument, you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. Not now. It was too sudden, too unexpected. You knew Seungcheol always had a plan—he never made decisions lightly. But the real question was, were you ready for more?

"What do you think, Ms. Ji?" His voice was softer now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath before finally speaking. "I’ll think about it, sir."

Seungcheol studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding. "Alright. You can go back."

That was your cue to leave. You turned on your heels, stepping out of his office, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

Why did everything suddenly lead to this?

*

"Want to talk about it?" Seungcheol’s voice was soft as he cuddled you close, his warmth seeping into your skin. His hand moved lazily through your hair, fingers tracing slow, comforting patterns.

He had invited you over tonight after you received a text from your brother, letting you know he was having friends over. You hadn’t wanted to be home with all the noise, and without asking too many questions, Seungcheol had offered his place. Now, nestled against him, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm draped around his torso, you felt the weight of the day pressing down on you.

"I'm all ears," he murmured, sensing your hesitation about his earlier offer.

Doubt flickered through you before you finally spoke. "Are you..." You hesitated. "Are you going to listen to me as my boss or as my boyfriend?"

Seungcheol hummed thoughtfully. "I'll decide after."

His answer caught you off guard. It sounded too neutral, almost detached, and something about it stung more than you expected. Without thinking, you shifted away from him, turning your back.

"Hey," Seungcheol's arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against him. His grip was firm yet gentle, grounding.

"Tell me, baby," he coaxed, his breath warm against the back of your neck. "I'll listen to you as your partner. Go ahead."

Slowly, you turned back to face him, meeting his steady gaze. "I don’t want to accept the offer."

Seungcheol said nothing, only watching you carefully, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist, a silent sign that he was listening.

"It’s too much for me," you admitted. "A big responsibility. And I don’t think I’m cut out for that—I’m not that passionate about it."

Seungcheol frowned. "You're a very passionate person, Y/n."

You shook your head. "Not about this. Not anymore." A deep sigh left your lips. "I'm tired of working, Cheol. I just want to travel the world, maybe get a job with less responsibility. Something that doesn’t drain me like this."

Seungcheol remained quiet, his dark eyes locked onto yours, absorbing every word. His fingers traced absentminded circles on your waist, a silent reminder that he was there, that he heard you.

"I need a break," you whispered, voice barely audible. "Before I break."

Something flickered in Seungcheol’s expression—regret, concern, maybe even guilt. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "I’m sorry," he murmured, his lips lingering for a moment. "I didn’t realize how much you’ve been carrying. And I—" He exhaled sharply. "I’ve been a jerk, haven’t I?"

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I think I wore myself out, Cheol. I hit my limit."

Seungcheol nodded, his thumb brushing along your cheek. "Then you should rest. You need to rest. Or else you’re going to—"

"Explode," you finished for him, smiling faintly. "Like when I called you drunk months ago."

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, the tension in the air easing. "I should thank your drunk self. If not for that, I wouldn’t have known my secretary wanted me to be her date.

You rolled your eyes, fingers threading through his hair. "That’s what you took from that?"

He grinned. "Well, that, and the fact that you can’t handle your alcohol."

You swatted his arm playfully, and he caught your wrist, tugging you closer.

"I just want to stay home for a while," you murmured, your voice softer now. "Do things I actually enjoy. Maybe pick up a hobby. Get a pet." You sighed as if the mere thought of it was a relief. "And none of it involves going back to work anytime soon."

Seungcheol studied you, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You sound like a good wife."

You chuckled, raising a brow. "I would make a good wife."

His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Really?"

Before you could answer, he tackled you onto the bed, his hands finding your sides as he tickled you mercilessly. Laughter filled the room as you squirmed beneath him, the weight of your earlier worries momentarily forgotten.

Your heart raced as Seungcheol hovered above you, his eyes dark with warmth and something deeper—something that made your breath hitch. His weight against you was comforting rather than overwhelming, his presence grounding.

"You tried my cooking earlier," you teased, giggling when he trailed soft kisses across your face—your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose. Each touch was featherlight, sending a shiver down your spine.

Seungcheol hummed in agreement, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered, "You’ll make a good wife."

Before you could react, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss—slow and deliberate, as if savoring every second. His hand cradled your cheek, thumb stroking gently, while his other arm held you firmly against him, as if he never wanted to let go.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

*

It was your favorite place—a simple barbecue restaurant where you and Jeonghan used to have dinner together during your early years at the company. The scent of grilled meat filled the air, blending with the warmth of laughter and chatter. Tonight, the atmosphere buzzed with a mix of celebration and bittersweet goodbyes as everyone gathered for your farewell party.

Seated around the long wooden tables were your colleagues—the secretary team members, department representatives, and even a few unexpected guests. Among them was Seungcheol, his presence instantly commanding attention. It was rare to see him at casual company gatherings like this, and his attendance left many curious. But since it was you—one of his most trusted employees—who was leaving, everyone assumed that was the reason he sat beside you, his presence a quiet yet significant statement.

After a while, you stood, clearing your throat as conversations died down. With a grateful smile, you delivered your speech—thanking everyone for their support, for the years of teamwork and shared challenges, and apologizing for any moments you might have fallen short.

When you finished, the room erupted into cheers and applause, glasses raised in a heartfelt toast. Laughter followed, but beneath it all was an unspoken truth: this chapter was ending, and things would never quite be the same again.

Seungcheol cleared his throat, the deep sound cutting through the lingering laughter and drawing everyone's attention like a switch had been flipped. Conversations faded, and all eyes turned to him.

He sat upright, his expression composed yet sincere. "First of all, I want to thank Ms. Ji for her hard work all these years," he began, his voice steady but carrying weight. "She’s been one of the most dedicated people in this company, and honestly, it’s hard to imagine this place without her. We’re losing not just a talented employee but also someone who made things run smoother for all of us."

A murmur of agreement swept through the group, and you felt a mix of pride and guilt settle in your chest.

Seungcheol glanced at you briefly before continuing. "And... I also want to take this chance to apologize," he said, his tone softening. "For any unnecessary pressure, for the late nights, for expecting too much sometimes. I know I wasn’t always the easiest boss to work with."

You shook your head slightly, about to reassure him, but before you could say anything, he inhaled deeply and, with absolute confidence, added,

"Also, since we’re all here, I think now’s a good time to make an announcement."

You frowned, confused, and Jeonghan—who was sipping his drink beside you—arched an eyebrow.

Seungcheol’s gaze met yours, then he turned back to the room. "Ms. Ji and I are dating."

A moment of silence. Then—

"What?!" Mingyu choked on his drink, coughing as Jeonghan patted his back. Gasps and murmurs spread through the group like wildfire. Even the usually composed members of the secretary team looked at each other in shock.

You stiffened, your body going rigid as the realization sank in. Your fingers clutched at the fabric of your dress under the table, your pulse hammering in your ears. Slowly, almost mechanically, you turned to Seungcheol, your voice barely above a whisper.

"What—why would you—"

"Wait, wait, wait." Jeonghan put a hand up, smirking. "That's expected. Since when?"

Seungcheol chuckled, resting his arm on the back of your chair. "For a while now."

Meanwhile, Jeonghan just sat there, utterly amused, swirling his drink in his glass before finally saying, "So this is why you’ve been sneaking around, huh?"

"Jeonghan!" You hissed, shooting him a glare, but he only shrugged, clearly enjoying your suffering.

Mingyu, still coughing slightly, gaped at Seungcheol like he had just grown a second head. "Wait, wait, wait—you two?! Since when?! And why didn’t I know?!"

Your face burned as everyone’s eyes darted between you and him, trying to process the sudden revelation. Someone from marketing whispered, That explains why he’s actually here tonight.

"You could’ve warned me first," you hissed under your breath, still reeling from the shock.

Seungcheol leaned in slightly, his voice teasing, "Where's the fun in that?"

The room exploded into a mix of cheers, teasing remarks, and incredulous laughter. Some congratulated you, others demanded details, and Mingyu, still processing, just groaned, "Why am I always the last to know?!"

You sighed, covering your face, but despite the initial embarrassment, you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips. Seungcheol had just made sure this farewell party was one no one would forget.

Your fingers twitched. If there weren’t so many witnesses, you might have actually smacked him.

"So you two have actually been together this whole time?" One of the HR reps asked, her mouth still slightly open in disbelief. "Like, during work hours? During meetings? While she was still his secretary?"

Oh no. That was a dangerous line of questioning.

You opened your mouth, scrambling to regain some sort of control over the situation, but Seungcheol, of course, was faster.

"It started after work," he clarified, his voice smooth and nonchalant. "And it’s not like she’s breaking any rules. She’s leaving the company, after all."

The way he said it—so effortlessly confident—made your stomach twist. You wanted to argue, to regain some control over this mess he had just thrown you into, but then you caught the way he was looking at you.

There was something possessive in his gaze, a quiet certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t ashamed. He wasn’t hiding.

And suddenly, the tension shifted.

"You’re unbelievable," you muttered, barely able to contain the heat rising to your cheeks.

He chuckled, finally turning back to his drink. "And yet, you’re still here."

The table erupted into laughter, cheers, and even a few claps. Someone from the legal department shouted, "Well, damn. We need to drink to this!"

"Oh—another thing to celebrate," Seungcheol announced, his voice effortlessly cutting through the laughter and clinking glasses.

You turned to him, sensing something in his tone, but before you could ask, he raised his glass.

"Congratulations to Mr. Yoon, our new Marketing Department Head."

A moment of silence hung in the air before the entire table erupted in cheers and applause.

"What?!" Mingyu nearly knocked over his drink in shock. "Jeonghan-hyung? When did this happen?"

Jeonghan, ever composed, simply smirked as he leaned back in his chair. "A while ago."

"You knew?!" Mingyu gawked at him before turning to Seungcheol. "And no one thought to tell me?!"

Seungcheol chuckled, completely unfazed. "HR finalized it this afternoon. He was my first choice from the start."

"But—but—" Mingyu stammered, looking between you and Jeonghan. "I thought she was the best candidate?!"

You smiled, lifting your drink. "I’m leaving, remember?"

Jeonghan shrugged, tapping his fingers against his glass. "And someone had to clean up after her, so here I am."

Laughter filled the table, and soon, everyone was raising their drinks toward Jeonghan, congratulating him on the promotion.

Seungcheol leaned in closer to you, his hand finding yours under the table. His voice was low, meant only for you.

"Now you really have no reason to stay at work."

You rolled your eyes playfully but squeezed his hand in return. "You planned all of this, didn’t you?"

He smirked, his thumb brushing against your fingers. "Maybe. But I also knew it was what’s best for everyone."

You sighed, glancing at Jeonghan, who was basking in the attention, and then at Seungcheol, who was watching you with that knowing look.

Despite everything, you couldn’t deny it—this felt right.

*

It had been ten months since you left the company, but something about Mingyu working as Seungcheol’s secretary still didn’t sit right with you. This morning only confirmed your suspicions. Seungcheol, who once carried himself with unwavering composure, now sat at the breakfast table with noticeable dark circles under his eyes. You couldn’t recall a single time in the past when he looked this tired.

“What’s your schedule like today?” you asked, setting a plate of breakfast in front of him along with a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

Seungcheol gave you a faint smile before replying, “Just a quick briefing with finance. I’ll probably be home late; I have a meeting with Joshua over dinner."

Your arms crossed as you stood beside the table, watching him. “You never memorize your own schedule,” you pointed out, your tone laced with concern.

He nodded in agreement, his attention on his food. “I used to have Jeonghan to remind me about everything. And you,” he added, glancing up at you with a soft smile. “You made sure everything ran smoothly.”

You watched him take another bite before leaning against the table. “How many staff members is Mingyu working with?” you asked, your tone more curious this time.

Seungcheol chuckled, wiping the corner of his mouth. “Why are you asking?”

“Because it’s obvious you’re overworking yourself, babe,” you said bluntly, crossing your arms again.

He paused, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I’m fine, love. Don’t worry,” he reassured, though his voice didn’t quite convince you. “Mingyu’s my only secretary now, but the system’s changed. He’s managing just fine.”

You sighed and sat down in front of him, resting your chin on your hand. “Is Mingyu still an idiot?”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but laugh, his tired expression lifting just a little. “He is,” he admitted, shaking his head. “But he’s getting better, I promise. You’d be surprised.”

You weren’t entirely convinced, and your frustration showed as you frowned at him. “You used to come home looking less like a zombie,” you muttered.

Seungcheol reached across the table and took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know you’re worried,” he said, his voice soft. “But really, I’ve got this. Mingyu may be a work in progress, but we’re managing.”

You squeezed his hand in return, but your concern lingered. “Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, alright?”

He smiled at you, a warmth in his eyes that made you feel just a little more at ease. “I won’t. I promise.”

As Seungcheol finished the last bite of his breakfast, he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as it shifted to you. "How’s the baking class going?" he asked, his tone casual but genuinely curious.

You perked up slightly at his question, a smile tugging at your lips. "It’s going really well. I finally mastered the chiffon cake yesterday," you said, your excitement seeping into your voice.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "The one you said was impossible to get right?"

You nodded eagerly. "Yep. It took me three tries, but I did it. The instructor even said I nailed the texture and flavor."

He smiled, the fatigue on his face momentarily fading as he watched you talk. "Look at you, becoming a pro baker already," he teased, though there was an unmistakable pride in his tone.

You chuckled, waving off his comment. "I wouldn’t say ‘pro,’ but it’s been fun. I didn’t think I’d enjoy baking as much as I do now."

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he looked at you. "So, when are you going to let me taste this famous chiffon cake?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning back in your chair. "Soon. I just want to perfect it a little more before I let you try it. You’re too honest with your feedback," you said, narrowing your eyes at him with mock suspicion.

He laughed, the deep sound filling the room and making your chest warm. "You know I only critique because I care," he said, reaching out to poke your arm. "But fine. I’ll wait until you think it’s ready."

You smirked, crossing your arms. "You better. No sneaking bites when I’m not looking."

"I wouldn’t dare," he replied, his tone exaggeratedly serious.

The two of you fell into an easy silence for a moment, the tension from earlier easing as you both enjoyed the quiet morning together.

"Maybe," Seungcheol began, breaking the silence, "you could make a batch of something for Joshua’s dinner meeting. He has a sweet tooth, you know."

You raised an eyebrow at him, pretending to be skeptical. "Are you volunteering me to impress your business partner with baked goods now?"

"Maybe," he admitted with a cheeky grin. "But only because I know you’d knock it out of the park."

You shook your head with a laugh, but you couldn’t deny how his words filled you with a small sense of pride. "Fine," you said. "I’ll make some cookies or brownies. But you owe me."

Seungcheol smirked. "Deal. I’ll make it worth your while."

The restaurant was dimly lit, with soft jazz music playing in the background. Seungcheol sat across from Joshua at the private dining table, his posture relaxed but still exuding authority. Mingyu, seated beside him, diligently took notes and managed the documents for the formal part of the meeting.

The discussion went smoothly, with both parties agreeing on the next steps for their partnership. As the waiter cleared their plates and brought out coffee and dessert, the atmosphere gradually shifted to a more casual tone. Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, finally allowing himself to relax.

Joshua stirred his coffee, a friendly smile on his face as he looked at Mingyu. "I have to say, Mingyu, you’ve really grown into your role. The professionalism you’ve shown tonight is impressive. So different from how you were!"

Mingyu let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "Well, I had to step up, didn’t I? Working for Seungcheol hyung isn’t exactly a walk in the park."

Seungcheol chuckled, glancing at Mingyu with a raised eyebrow. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all!" Mingyu quickly replied, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I’m just saying, I had to adapt."

Joshua laughed, clearly amused by their dynamic. "It’s good to see, though. I remember the Mingyu who couldn’t sit still in meetings or keep track of his tasks. Now look at you—organized, professional, and confident."

Mingyu puffed out his chest jokingly, but there was a hint of genuine pride in his smile. "Well, I had a great mentor," he said, nodding toward Seungcheol.

Seungcheol scoffed, though a small smile played on his lips. "Don’t get too cocky, Mingyu. You still have a long way to go."

Joshua tilted his head, a curious expression crossing his face. "By the way, how did Mingyu end up working for you, Seungcheol?"

"Trust me," Seungcheol said, a playful glint in his eye, "I didn’t want to hire him at first. But he insisted, and I figured if he was going to work anywhere, it might as well be under someone who wouldn’t go easy on him."

"And he doesn’t go easy on me," Mingyu added, holding up his hands. "This man is tough."

Joshua laughed, clearly entertained. "Well, I have to say, it’s working. You’ve come a long way, Mingyu. But I bet it’s also a little intimidating, working for your family."

"It is," Mingyu admitted, "but it’s also motivating. I can’t slack off when my boss knows everything about me, including my bad habits."

Seungcheol shook his head, though his expression softened. "To be fair, he’s proven himself. He’s still Mingyu, though, so he keeps things interesting."

Seungcheol chuckled to himself as he sipped his coffee, the memory of that day playing vividly in his mind. It was his aunt's anniversary, and the gathering at his house was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to his family. At least, that was his plan.

You had looked stunning that day, wearing a soft pastel dress that complimented you beautifully. Yet, your nervousness was unmistakable—the way your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your bag, the quick glances you stole at Seungcheol for reassurance, and the tiny, hesitant smile that melted his heart every time he caught you looking at him.

He remembered how your confidence faltered the moment you stepped into the living room, where the cheerful buzz of conversation filled the space. His family greeted you warmly, but then your eyes landed on Mingyu standing casually by the snack table.

Your reaction was priceless. Your eyes widened as if you'd seen a ghost, and before you could stop yourself, you mouthed to Seungcheol, What is he doing here?

Mingyu’s face lit up instantly when he noticed you. "Noona!" he called out excitedly, leaving his spot to approach you.

Seungcheol stifled a laugh as you turned to him, utterly baffled, while Mingyu pulled you into a friendly hug. "What... what is happening?" you whispered urgently to Seungcheol as Mingyu grinned beside you.

Seungcheol smirked, enjoying your confusion. "Mingyu is my cousin," he explained casually. "He’s my aunt’s son."

You blinked in shock, staring at both men as if the pieces of a puzzle were suddenly falling into place. "That explains a lot," you muttered, earning a laugh from Seungcheol and a curious look from Mingyu.

From that day on, your dynamic with Mingyu took a playful turn. What started as harmless teasing quickly became your favorite way to keep him on his toes, especially after he became Seungcheol’s secretary.

"You should work harder, Mingyu," you had told him one day when he stopped by your place to drop off some files for Seungcheol. Leaning against the doorframe, you smirked knowingly at him. "You only got that job because the boss is your cousin. Nepo baby."

Mingyu groaned dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "Noona, you can’t keep calling me that! I’m actually working really hard, you know."

"You better," you shot back, grinning mischievously. "I worked hard supervising you."

Seungcheol, who had been silently observing the exchange from the couch, couldn’t hide his amusement. "Don’t go too hard on him, love," he teased, though his tone was far from serious.

Mingyu pouted, looking between the two of you. "Great. Now I have two bosses to impress."

"You should be honored," you quipped, sending him a wink before heading back to the kitchen.

As Seungcheol watched Mingyu’s exasperated expression, he couldn’t help but smile. Despite all the teasing, the camaraderie between you and Mingyu warmed his heart. It was proof of how naturally you had integrated into his life—his family—and how, even in moments of chaos, you brought lightness and joy to everything you touched.

End.

[wheeboo]

seventeen and their reaction to you after wisdom teeth surgery

PAIRING. seventeen (o13) x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, crack/humour, established relationship WARNINGS. mention of wisdom teeth removal, mention of surgery, mention of blood and gauze, mention of IV sedation WORD COUNT. 1.1k

notes: it would be day 2 post-op of my wisdom teeth surgery as of the posting of this. ik everyone's experience is different but i was given IV sedation for my procedure and it was literally like coming up from a nap istg HAHA. i've been quite literally devastated that i cant eat anything so i've decided to make this lol for funsies to cope i hope u all enjoy!!!

choi seungcheol

becomes your knight in shining armour literally. holds your hand while they stick the IV in your arm, insists to stay and watch over you but then the oral surgeon kicks him out of the room LMAO. when the surgery is done, he's literally picking you up bridal style all the way into the car and pampers and spoils you so hard for the rest of your recovery :(( he hates seeing his precious baby in so much pain. you'd wake him up in the middle of the night to take your medicine and he always makes sure to stay by your side

yoon jeonghan

ngl mfer would probably be laughing at you 💀 they'd wheel you up all the way to his car, still loopy from the anesthesia and numbing stuff. you end up saying something like "woww, the skies are sooo blue," and he'd just say "if you look closer, there's unicorns in the sky," and you're like "REALLY??????????" nonetheless he'd still be very very caring, just be aware of him talking about what food he should eat for dinner and you're glaring at him with your tiny cup of applesauce

joshua hong

just the SWEETEST, and maybe a bit of a tease as well (unsurprisingly), and def isn't secretly recording your cute moments to show you later on since you won't really remember. he'd be like "yeah, you told me you wanted to marry me on the ride back home." pushes back your hair and gives you the softest smile ever when you wake up from the anesthesia, and you couldn't help but mumble something about him looking like an angel who came down from heaven

wen junhui

he would be so amused by everything you're saying post-surgery. will be giggling alongside you at the most nonsensical things. due to the numbing you'd mumble something about how your tongue is gone, and he'd just gasp, "WHERE DID IT GO?" then immediately goes to reassure you, "wait, wait, it's still there, don't worry." will very much be doting on you the entire day, constantly promising to cook your favourite meals for you when you're finally able to

kwon soonyoung

man is a combination of hyping you and up and being in constant panic mode. he'd be cheering for you so happily after getting through the surgery, but by the time you're in the car and start mumbling nonsense, he'd be so so confused, trying to figure out what you're saying. you'd say like "i want jdsfklsjfd" with the bloody gauze and he's like "??????" is constantly reviewing over the oral surgeon's notes and googling stuff just to be extra safe. would try to make soup but somehow burns it?

jeon wonwoo

quietly yet determined. he always makes sure to take your pain meds on time, always helps spoon feed you and give water when you need it, always lets you hold onto him when you're uncomfortable. would be silently amused by your silly antics, to be honest. feels bad that you aren't able to eat but is constantly reassuring you with kisses to the head that you'll be better soon, running his hands through your hair until you doze off

lee jihoon

appears unfazed but honestly he might be freaking the freak out, constantly watching over you like a hawk. hates seeing you in pain and uncomfortable and wants to do everything he can just to make you not feel that way. pours all his love and care into creating soft meals that you're able to eat. you can tell him "jihoonie, it hurts :(" and he's absolutely melting. would definitely give you a little sigh and eye roll when you say something all groggily, but still loves it of course

xu minghao

is very patient and literally prepared everything beforehand. he has all the foods lined up for you to eat, all the meds scheduled at the right time you'd need to take them, your bed and pillows already adjusted to the right level. has all the herbal teas ready to help you relax. in the car, you'd ask him for a kiss and he's like "my love, the doctor said i can't give you one," and you give him a big old pout. he won't be able to help himself, and plants a kiss to your knuckles instead. overall, he's just very gentle eugh

kim mingyu

mother mode: activated. baby talks you the whole time, even when you're just loopily staring at him like "??????" carries you to the car if you're too weak to walk with your arms wrapped around his neck and legs wrapped around his torso, tucks you in with five blankets and five pillows propped to level your body, and brings you all the softest foods he can find. insists on feeding you even though you can do it yourself. honestly probably insists on doing almost everything for you: helping you eat, putting cold/warm compresses to your face, anything

lee seokmin

he's laughing. so much. but also giving you a cute little forehead kisse every few minutes. you wake up from the anesthesia and he's grinning so hard at you because you look so cutely dazed and confused, blinking up at him like he's some sort of a divine being (which he is, honestly). you probably say something like "wowwww you're soo handsome," and the dental assistants tell you that he's your boyfriend, causing you to be shocked, and he would just absolutely melt

boo seungkwan

oh my baby is loud but loving. he's wheeling you out of the office and going, "oh my god, my poor baby, you did so well!!" and immediately starts recording when you say something dumb. the moment you start whining, he's all over you omfg, fussing about your comfort, adjusting your pillows, and if you refuse to take your meds he'd be nagging your ass. if you start crying about not eating real food, he's crying with you honestly

vernon chwe

of course he's very chill but is very entertained and also kinda worried for you. probably records funny moments of you to send to the svt groupchat and keep in his memories to show you later on. always looks out for the little signs you might be in pain, and would fetch your meds and some water wordlessly. the first thing he'd get you after surgery would be a milkshake or smoothie, but insists to take the first sip to make sure "it's safe" (he just wanted an excuse to taste it)

lee chan

super caring but also the type to play along with anything you say. if you go "the ceiling is moving," he just gasps and goes, "no way! it is!" but of course he's really gentle with you, carefully buckling your seatbelt and rubbing your back when you get frustrated about not being able to eat solid food. might also carry you piggyback style if you're still out of it from the anesthesia. when you nap, he stays close by just in case you need anything

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@fujiswn

[gotta-winwin]

(𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋) how seokmin falls in love

⭐ starring: seokmin

💌 genre: fluff | wc: 1.8k

💬 preview: House SEVENTEEN grapples with the idea that their resident bachelor might be in love…as all the signs start to show up.

tw/cw: college au, inspired by the song ‘ when emma falls in love’, lowkey crack!seventeen

🪽fic rating: pg

☁️ masterlist & a/n: this is partly a homage to b0y - every sign you see in this fic has been something he’s done for me - yes, he has a fic with him written all over it. yes, he’s still on thin ice :) anyways...another instalment of our 500 followers event!

p.s thank you so much to @diamonddaze01 for beta reading <33

this is a part of my 500 followers event

When Seokmin falls in love, it’s fast-- nearly instant, exploding his world with color and song. Everyone around him is greeted by the sudden glare and it’s certainly hard not to notice. 

Seungcheol knew Seokmin had fallen in love when he started extending his bed time. 

Seokmin had always been an avid preacher of sleep early, wake early. He’s up by six in the morning making coffee for the rest of them and in bed by 10pm, his lights dimmed down and a satin eye mask over his face. 

So when it’s already past midnight and Seungcheol could still hear talking from Seokmin’s room, he paused.

“No, it’s great.” 

Seungcheol hovered in the hallway, his ears straining to hear past Seokmin’s closed door. 

“I think you look beautiful.” 

Seungcheol’s eyebrows raise. Seokmin was calling a girl, because no straight man would call a bro beautiful. 

Then Seokmin giggled and Seungcheol decided that was his sign to go to bed.

“No, I’m telling you, he fucking giggled.” 

Jeonghan shook his head, licking the residue of burger sauce off his finger. “Seokmin doesn’t giggle. He laughs, sure, but in a witchy cackle, not a giggle.” 

“It was definitely a giggle.” Seungcheol stood his ground. “I heard him last night when I got home from my shift at the bar.” 

Jeonghan frowned. “Didn’t you work closing? You would’ve gotten home past midnight and we both know Seokmin has never seen that kind of time on a clock before.” 

“That’s exactly my point.” Seungcheol set his cup down on the counter as if to emphasize his point. “He stayed up late on the phone with some girl and he also giggled. He’s in love.” 

Jeonghan shook his head again. “I still think you were just hallucinating. Seokmin doesn’t talk to girls.” 

Seungcheol knew he was right. The last time Seokmin had contributed to House SEVENTEEN’s love life was in elementary school, and anyone knew romances that young were meaningless. “Maybe I was hallucinating. I was pretty out of it last night-- some guy was mucking up the bar and I nearly lost it.” 

Jeonghan shot him a sympathetic smile. “Maybe you heard the ghost giggle.” 

“For the fucking last time-- our house does not have a ghost.” 

“Tell that to Chan, he still sleeps with the small light on.” 

“Did you hear the thing about Seokmin being on the phone with some girl a couple nights ago?” The word was spreading like wildfire around the house, Joshua being one of the last ones to hear it. 

“Yeah, man.” Soonyoung nodded. “We all heard from Seungcheol last night.”

“How come no one told me till today?” 

Chan shrugged. “You would’ve heard if you had come to beer night-- which you didn’t.” 

“Okay.” Joshua raised his hands in acknowledgement. “But I’ve been noticing some odd things about Seokmin for a while now.”

Joshua had accidentally taken a glance at Seokmin’s browsing history-- that one time he had been in the washroom taking the longest shit and had left Joshua unattended with his phone unlocked. 

“No single guy searches up ‘how to wrap a bouquet’ and ‘best pasta place in town.’” 

Soonyoung slapped Chan on the back. “Bro’s in love.” 

“Then why hasn’t he said anything to us?” 

Joshua laughed. “Maybe because he knows he’ll be teased for it?” Exiting out of his research paper and closing his laptop, Joshua got up to leave. “Got a shift at the library, I’ll see you guys at home.”

He fails to mention the fact that he had spotted flowers sitting in the back of Seokmin’s closet just last night-- a plethora of pink and red roses, carnations and baby breath. 

Jun liked to keep to himself as often as possible, although he couldn’t help but nose his way into Seokmin’s business when he stepped into his room and realized the place was spotless. 

“You cleaned your room?” He wondered aloud, noticing how the handful of empty cups and the usual heaps of clothes on the floor were gone. 

Seokmin nodded. “Yeah.”

“And you changed your bedsheets?” 

“Yeah…?” Seokmin glanced at Jun oddly from the corner of his eye. “What about it?” 

“Nothing.” Jun mumbled, sitting down on the crisp bed sheets, trying to shake the feeling that something was off about his housemate. “I just haven’t seen your floors this clean since…well, since we moved in.” 

Seokmin shrugged. “Thought I’d get my shit together, y’know?” 

“Yeah. Yeah.” 

Me: something’s wrong with seok. 

Hao (housemate #8): wdym? 

Me: i think he’s dating someone. 

Hao (housemate #8): ykw you might be right.

Minghao had caught Seokmin leaving the library late one night, his bag swung over his shoulder and an unusual pep in his step. He had never seen anyone leave a library looking that joyful, let alone Seokmin, who hated studying and anything scholarly. 

A girl had left with the same glowing look on her face just 10 minutes later. 

Minghao had chalked it up to mere coincidence, a million other reasons running through his head. Maybe Wonwoo had forgotten something at home and had employed Seokmin to get it for him. Maybe Seokmin had finally turned over a new leaf and decided school was worth working hard for. Or maybe, just maybe- Jun was right and Seokmin had been there to meet a girl. 

“No, you’re not listening to me.” Seungkwan waved his hands in agitation. “I saw Seokmin holding a girl’s drink after class today.” 

“How do you even know it’s a girl’s?” Mingyu questioned through a mouthful of soup, gently balancing a spoonful for Wonwoo, who was standing next to him. “It could’ve just been his.”

“Mingyu’s right, Kwan.” Wonwoo accepted the soup from Mingyu. “Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“It was a venti white mocha, quad shot, 2 shots on bottom, two on top. Almond milk, caramel drizzle.” Seungkwan recited. “Don’t tell me that isn’t a girl drink.”

Wonwoo frowned. “How do you even know all that?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Seungkwan brushed their questioning looks aside. “I’m telling you, Seokmin has a girlfriend.”

“He would’ve told us.” Mingyu defended his friend. 

“No, he wouldn’t.” Wonwoo muttered from the side, knowing full well Seokmin wouldn’t. He might be one of the more naive ones in the group but he was still smart enough to know that information like this was passed around at the speed of light. If he wanted any privacy with this girl-- Seokmin would keep his mouth shut. 

“Maybe we should just ask him.” Mingyu proposed the idea hesitantly. “What harm can it do?” 

“No!” Seungkwan shook his head, hitting Mingyu’s shoulder. “Not until we get more proof.” 

“Guys.” Chan walked in, waving various pieces of white paper in his hands. “I found something.”

Chan had gone through Seokmin’s trash, setting down three crinkled receipts onto the kitchen island. 

One to a fancy restaurant down the street, another for an escape room booking for two, and one for a We’re Not Really Strangers card game. 

“You went through his trash??” Seungkwan shot him a look. “What are you, a raccoon?” 

Chan shrugged. “They say you can really understand a man by looking through his trash.” 

“Yeah, in serial killer movies.” Wonwoo mentioned, although he had leaned down to check out the receipts for himself. “Oh yeah, Seok’s definitely not single.”

“He got the card game for us.” Mingyu offered. “Was talking about it for our next wine night.”

“Okay,” Chan wasn’t ready to give up. “But the restaurant and escape room were definitely dates, right?”

“I’m keeping these as evidence.” Seungkwan gathered the receipts up and folded them into his wallet. “Good job team.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “This is not Brooklyn 99, Seungkwan.” 

Soonyoung and Vernon made it barely ten steps out of the house before they were both sprayed down with a garden hose. 

“What-”

Seokmin smiled at them apologetically through their blurred vision. “Sorry, guys. Trying to wash my car.”

Vernon frowned. “Why?”

“Picking up a friend and the car was kind of musty so I thought I’d rinse it down.” 

Soonyoung and Vernon exchanged a knowing glance. 

“A friend?” 

Seokmin nodded, redirecting the water jet to spray against the passenger door. “Yeah, from Physics 200.” 

“What’s their name?” Soonyoung pushed, and Vernon nudged him from behind. They had all promised not to broach the subject. 

Seokmin shook his head. “You wouldn’t know them.” 

“Washing his car to go pick up a friend.” Soonyoung mimicked Seokmin’s lovesick voice in an exaggerated rendition as they walked further up the street. “He’s so seeing a girl.”

Vernon frowned. “Maybe he was just picking up a friend.” 

“Friends other than us?” Soonyoung scoffed. “As if.”

“Wonwoo!”

The boy in question raised his head, pausing the music that was coming from his headphones. “What’s up, Seok?” 

Seokmin slid onto the bench directly opposite him, an imploring look on his face. “I need a book rec.”

Wonwoo blinked, pushing his glasses up with the back of his hand and closing his medical textbook. “You,” he paused, enunciating his words as slowly as possible. “Need a book. To read?”

Seokmin nodded. “Yes, to read. What’s the best book you can give me?”

Wonwoo thought for a moment, as his conversation with Seungkwan and the others resurfaced in his mind. “Seok, are you sure? I don’t think I’ve seen you pick up a book since…middle school.” 

Seokmin let out a huff of annoyance. “Just give me a book, please?”

“Okay, what genre of literature are you looking for?”

Seokmin blanked. “Um…just- a book?” 

Wonwoo sighed, an amused laugh escaping from his lungs. He had been skeptical about the whole ‘Seokmin in love’ theory at first, but now it was becoming increasingly hard to avoid. “Seok, be honest. Is this for a girl or something?”

“Yes.” Seokmin’s shoulders sagged. “I really need her to like me. And she loves reading so-”

“Go pick up Gatsby.” Wonwoo pointed Seokmin towards the section of the library that he knew the book was housed in. “It’ll work if she’s a girl worth chasing.” 

All this talk about Seungkwan and his silly theory about Seokmin being in love had left Jihoon with no option but to leave the house, too annoyed by all the delusional conversations and Seungkwan imitating Captain Raymond Holt. 

Maybe it was because none of them had ever seen Seokmin with a girl before-- not even remotely interested in one. For the longest time, they had been carrying a bet that he might just not like girls. Or maybe he didn’t like anyone at all. 

“Oh my fucking-” Jihoon dropped his protein shake, the contents spilling over the concrete floor. 

There he was, in the middle of the school courtyard, arms around a girl’s waist, a bright smile on his face. Jihoon watched, horrified, as Seokmin leaned in for a kiss, his lips meeting hers in a passionate embrace. 

Jihoon pulled out his phone to send exactly one message into the groupchat. 

Me: everyone owes Seungkwan $10. 

[amourcheol]

blurring the lines (teaser)

❝Why learn the complexities of desire all by yourself, when your dearest friend can merely teach you?❞

bridgerton! au | friends with benefits! au | smut, fluff | approx. 30k words (1.6k words for teaser)

s u m m a r y : you think you know everything about your best friend, dashing bachelor joshua hong. when you stumble upon his suggestive literature from his recent travels, however, reading even an extract is enough to make you question everything. unsure of your newfound feelings, you turn to your confidante, unaware of just how much knowledge—and experience—he has to offer.

c o n t e n t : best friend! joshua, best friend! soonyoung too, references of real erotic literature from the 1700s because this is not an amourcheol fic without historical accuracy, references of other members, lady whistledown will be present, soonyoung is the real mvp in this fic, shua acts like a man </3 mature warnings -> tons of sexual tension, making out, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (regency protection is goofy mb), mc experiences crazy overstimulation, corruption kink (!!!), more tba

a u t h o r ' s n o t e : bonjour hola bridgerton s4 sneak peak dropped which means i ofc had to drop a sneak peak of my own !! even tho i am over a week late !! send an ask if you wish to be tagged! hope you enjoy the teaser ;)

playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

"WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS?"

Involuntarily your eyes flickered to the table, and he followed, turning his head to the study, which he noticed immediately was tidied—tampered with. "You went through my things?”

“I did not mean to!” you exclaimed, gaping at his sudden charge towards the desk, you hot at his heels. “I just thought it looked like a mess, so I tried cleaning it—”

“You are not a servant,” he cut off, darting over the new order of his account books, as well as the fiction which you had assembled. “You are not required to look after me like that.”

“I know, but—”

“And sneaking out with my possessions? Without my permission?” He smacked the book on the table, making you flinch. “I thought you better than that.”

You were better than that—well, at least until tonight. You ransacked your mind for an excuse, any form of escape, except your words were absolutely pathetic. “You have never minded me reading your novels before,” you attempted. “In fact, you encouraged me to scour your shelves.”

He looked at the book again—a moment too long—and went back to set a slight glare upon you. “Well, my journal is not a trivial novel. It was private…not meant for you.”

You knew that. What did not settle well, though, was that your dearest friend, who had shared his every worry, his every confession to you, had been doing things you had no inkling of, things that incited such…extraordinary feelings from you. 

You had to know what more lay in those pages—and why you had felt the way you felt in those pages which your eyes did scour. “I read it.”

His glare faltered. “How much?”

That question was answered with another. “What was it, Joshua?” You stepped forward, a timid gesture, so you could catch a look at the hardback again. “I…I read some pages, and…what was she doing?”

His hand on his journal pushed it back. “I do not know.”

“Liar,” you got out, and he pursed his lips. You knew him irritatingly well. “You are keeping things from me.” 

“It is not keeping things from you,” he countered, frustration rising in his voice. “It is…protecting you from those…things.” 

“Tell me what those things are, Joshua,” you demanded, quietly but not softly. “It has rattled you enough. That has never happened to you.”

But he was silent. Eerily quiet, merely the rustle of his clothes, the soft thunk of his novella settled back with the French novels which raised your suspicions. A boundary made—a rejection established. 

Perhaps you would have respected it in another lifetime—in a world where you had not indulged your curiosity, set your eyes upon entities which were not for you to explore. Perhaps you would have respected it even if Joshua had offered to enlighten you—maybe blushed and ran away, and vowed never to look through his possessions again. 

The writings had rattled you, though, more than he realised. Social etiquette—good common sense would have expected you to respect his opinion, opinions of society, and drop the subject. 

Joshua Hong, however, was your greatest friend. No societal expectation could change that. 

So you opted to push the limits. Refuse the silence to be the end of this matter.

“I read enough, you know. To feel…” A pause. “I cannot even describe to you how I felt, because I have never felt that way before.” You tried to find the right words, a single confession out of order and he would stop listening—or so you thought. “There was an extract you wrote, Joshua, which had certain…descriptions…” Burning. Pleasure. Naked. Fire. Ecstasy. “There was a girl who was doing something. I am unsure what she was doing specifically, but…what she felt watching them…”

A soft exhale released from you, and almost instinctively Joshua released his own breath. “I think I…um, I think I felt a remnant of it.” 

He blurted out, barely a whisper, “You what?”

You looked at him—barely managed a nod. “I do not…don’t even know what she was doing with her fingers—” Joshua’s sudden coughing interrupted you, holding a fist to his lips to stop himself—“But whatever it was…I want to know what it was.” 

You watched the man stay deathly still, yet the emotions racing behind his face were certain. Not only were you rattled, but had passed this strange sensation to him. Had he never felt it before? You wondered, surprised by the similarity of his reaction to yours. 

He then responded to you, and you realised your mistake. “You cannot.”

Another boundary. Another opportunity to cross it. “Why?” This time, you stepped closer to him. “Why can I not know?” He was silent once more, and this time, you would not accept it. “Why are you hiding from me?”

“Because you are a lady!” he finally cut out, an agitated sigh coming straight after. “You are not to know such…such material.”

A lady…that you were aware of, but that still did not answer the question. Joshua watched, Joshua did whatever he had done to a lady. The answer was not good enough.

Judging by the increasing agitation in your friend’s countenance, he knew it too. It was at that point, though, when you truly noticed his harsh sighs, the tight fists—one at his mouth now trudging to the table, and the other secured at his hip—figure rigid. How affected he was by your questioning.

As if he mirrored the same sensations as you experienced.

“Is it…” You pursed your lips. “Is it because you were feeling them too?” 

A blink back—the only recognition of shock. You held onto this, continuing, “Tell me the truth, Joshua. You said yourself, no? That a lady cannot know, but you did not say a gentleman cannot either. You were feeling it too, were you not?”

His eyes were widening with your every word, and he stepped back, almost as if to run away. You did not need an answer from him now—it was abundantly clear that he had undergone such passions, as if it was not certain as you read it. There was only one question left in your arsenal now.

Joshua could have collapsed to the study floor. He heard the questions, and suddenly all he could do was gape at you. The determined curiosity in your eyes, the resolute stature of your body, closer than he last remembered. Oh, he would die before answering such a thing to you. He could not. He could not. 

“_____, it is late,” he began after a long time. The slight hope on your face leaving instinctively dampened his spirits. “It is already rash that you came here without a chaperone and I refuse to let you become the centre of ill conversation.”

And there it was. The supposed end. 

You did not realise how disappointed you were until you found your voice again, much graver than you expected. “So that is how it will be.”

Fine. If your best friend would not entrust you with such information, you would find the next person who would not be so apprehensive. A fortunate situation that you already had a man in mind.

As you turned on your heel, you heard him ask, “Where are you going?”

You did not stop your walk away, looking over your shoulder as you retorted, “To Soonyoung. At least he will be honest with me, if you choose not to be.”

He must have said something, but you did not deign to hear, only looking to the door, which was slightly ajar. You held your hand out, ready to open it further. 

Another force—another hand, larger than yours, slammed the door shut, jumping you out of your skin. Quickly you swivelled to see Joshua, breathing slightly uneven as his hand stayed right beside your head, resting against the wood. “Good God,” you got out, “What was that for?”

“You cannot go to Soonyoung,” he said instead, gaze frantic. 

You furrowed your brows. “Why?” 

He frowned. He could tell from your irritation that you assumed it was jealousy, a worse morphing of cowardice. It was not jealousy—nothing like that. Soonyoung was like a brother to him, and he knew that if there was anyone else you could have gone to without eliciting scandal, then it was that eccentric. He would explain everything to his friend, and be done with it without furthering his own curiosity. 

With that in mind, he would also tell you everything. Joshua was aware that there were skeletons in the closet of such matters, and your door was already slightly ajar. Should you go to Soonyoung to seek counsel, he would break down the doors, and suffocate you with the bones of such sensitive information.

What you asked was no normal feat. What you asked was sensitive. Precious. Soonyoung was trustworthy, but he was not careful. 

Joshua, on the other hand, was careful. Very careful, if he thought so himself. 

“He would not…explain it properly,” he offered instead. 

“At least he will explain it,” you countered, twisting your mouth. “I’d rather something than nothing at all.” 

His brows knitted together, desperation rising. “You have to understand me, _____.”

“Not after this.” You tried to avert his gaze, but his eyes—for the very first time—were incredibly hard to ignore. “Let me out the door.”

His reply, although perturbed, was clear. “I cannot.”

“Then tell me, Joshua,” you demanded. “Tell me what she was doing.” 

He should have stayed silent forever. What he should have done—as a gentleman, as you yourself had deemed him—was keep his mouth shut. 

A semblance of his sanity slipped once he uttered the fated words.

“She was touching herself.”

s e r i e s t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @smiileflower @ourkivee @alyssa19123456 @xylatox @lexyraeworld @fancypeacepersona @tjjth @zezedoesshit @ochidize @sankriin @okiedokrie-main @reiofsuns2001 @gyuguys @livixxn @livelaughloveseventeen @peepeepoopooharrie @shinaely @uhdrienne @maple249

[zeroseuniverse]

Love Consumes

Word Count: 688 Summary: "Why do you care?" His voice came out sharper than he intended. You just smiled, unfazed. "Because I do." Pairing: Woozi X Reader

Navigation

Woozi had never been the type to let anyone in.

It wasn’t that he hated people—he just had no time for them. His life revolved around his work, his music, and the ruthless perfectionism that ensured no one could touch him. He was respected, admired, even feared by some, but never close to anyone. That was how he liked it.

Then you came along.

At first, he didn't take you seriously. You were too carefree, too reckless with your heart, too unbothered by the walls he had built. You were the kind of person who smiled too easily, who laughed at things he found unremarkable, who walked into a room and made it feel lighter. He told himself he was indifferent, that you were just another person passing through his orbit.

But indifference didn’t explain why his eyes always sought you in a crowded room. It didn’t explain the way his heartbeat changed when you called his name, the way his hands lingered when they brushed against yours, the way he found himself staying just a little longer whenever you were around.

One night, after an exhausting studio session, he found you waiting outside, coffee in hand. "You need to eat," you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He stared at you, something unrecognizable twisting in his chest. "Why do you care?" His voice came out sharper than he intended.

You just smiled, unfazed. "Because I do."

Something cracked inside him. Something terrifying.

He had spent his entire life untouchable, untamed by sentiment, unshaken by love. But you—somehow, effortlessly—you disarmed him. And as he stood there, staring at you in the dim glow of the streetlights, realization settled like a weight in his bones.

Oh.

Oh.

His love for you was going to destroy him.

Woozi had always been careful. Always in control. He built his world with precision, every detail fine-tuned, every note of his life composed exactly the way he wanted.

But you were an unscripted melody. A song that refused to fit into his perfect structure.

That night, after you handed him the coffee, you didn’t push him for conversation. You just stood there beside him, sipping your own drink like it was the most natural thing in the world to be waiting for him at 2 a.m. in the cold.

Woozi should have left. Should have told you to go home. Should have reinforced the distance he had always maintained with everyone else.

Instead, he found himself saying, "You shouldn’t wait up for me."

You hummed thoughtfully, eyes flickering up to his. "I know."

"Then why do it?"

You exhaled softly, tilting your head. "Because you never wait for anyone to take care of you. So someone has to."

His grip tightened around the coffee cup. He didn’t know what to do with that. With you. With the quiet, effortless way you wove yourself into his life, slipping through his defenses before he even realized he had let you in.

It was frustrating. Maddening. Addictive.

And it only got worse.

The late nights turned into early mornings. Passing moments turned into long conversations, stolen in the rare gaps between his endless work. And before he knew it, you weren’t just someone in his life—you were a necessity.

One evening, after another exhausting day in the studio, he found himself at your door instead of his own. He didn’t even remember making the decision to come. It was instinct now—like a magnet pulling him toward you.

You opened the door, surprised but not displeased. "Woozi?"

He stared at you for a long moment, something raw and unfamiliar burning in his chest. "I don’t know what you’ve done to me," he admitted, voice quieter than usual. "But I don’t think I can go back to how I was before."

Your expression softened, warmth filling your eyes as you reached for his hand. "Then don’t."

And for the first time in his life, Woozi let himself fall.

Because love like this was terrifying, overwhelming, all-consuming.

But if it was you—if you were the one destroying him—then maybe he didn’t mind breaking.

[rosiecosy]

ghosted˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(ot13 x reader) — fluff

a/n — fun fact ! i was inspired to write this fic after i watched smile 2 w my friends. we defo should've watched tangled AHAHAHAH

you should’ve known this was a bad idea.

the night had started off so well—everyone piled into the living room with pillows and blankets, a ridiculous amount of snacks spread across the table. seungcheol had promised a chill movie night, so you let your guard down, thinking it’d be harmless fun.

you were wrong.

"okay, next movie!" seokmin announces, holding up the remote.

"let’s watch something fun this time," you mumble sleepily, snuggling into a blanket.

jeonghan hums. "or… we could watch a horror movie."

you sit up immediately. "no."

"yes," he grins.

"hyung, she’s gonna cry," seungkwan points out, already looking at you like you’re a wounded animal.

"which is exactly why we should watch it," jeonghan says. "she gets all cute and clingy when she’s scared."

"i do not," you argue, even though you know you totally do.

"yes, you do," woozi says, not even looking up from his phone.

the vote is cast. the horror movie wins.

—

forty minutes later, you’re regretting everything.

the movie is terrifying. every shadow in the room suddenly feels like it’s moving, and even though you know you’re safe, your brain is convinced that something is about to grab you from behind.

you cling to the closest person—who happens to be wonwoo. he doesn’t seem to mind, just lets you grip his arm like your life depends on it.

"you’re shaking," he murmurs, barely audible over the tense music playing on screen.

"shut up," you whisper back, too scared to move.

the worst part? jeonghan notices.

"aww, are you scared?" he teases, nudging your side.

you don’t respond. mostly because you’re trying not to scream.

then—

a sudden jumpscare.

you do scream.

the entire dorm explodes into chaos.

mingyu yells and throws his popcorn into the air. hoshi launches himself over the back of the couch. seokmin and seungkwan are shriek-laughing, rolling onto the floor.

and you?

you bolt.

without thinking, you make a break for it, dashing out of the living room and into the safety of your room. you don’t stop until you’ve thrown yourself into bed, yanking the blanket over your head.

silence.

then—footsteps.

your door creaks open.

"…she actually ran away," vernon says, amused.

"i told you guys she’d freak out," joshua sighs.

"hey, you okay?" seungcheol’s voice is gentle.

"no," you whine from under the blanket.

a weight dips the bed. then another. then several. before you can even react, the members are piling in, shoving and squishing themselves onto your bed.

"what are you doing?" you ask, peeking out.

"staying with you," dino grins.

"we broke her, so now we have to fix her," minghao deadpans.

"we should’ve just watched tangled," woozi mutters, clearly blaming jeonghan for all of this.

you huff but don’t argue. as much as you hate to admit it, having them all here makes you feel better.

"…fine," you mumble. "but if any of you snore, i’m kicking you out."

"no promises," hoshi laughs, already making himself comfortable.

you sigh, knowing you’re not getting rid of them anytime soon. but as you drift off, squished between your thirteen brothers, you decide that maybe this sleepover wasn’t so bad after all.

[cheollvrs]

WARNING 🔞 NSFW AUDIO

🎀 sucking both of them at the same time .ᐟ

© CHEOLLVRS

[cherrycheolkat]

Hi there! For ur bingo, would it be fine request worship with praise kink? With reader being kinda crazy over mingyu's abs/stomach... (idk if you've seen his new ck photos are wild!!!!)

hiii - yes i did see them - he looks so good ^^ and i hope you like this drabble

♡ kat

bingo squares: worship + praise kink

pairing: mingyu x f!reader

word count: 0.8k

rating: NSFW | MDNI

warnings: smut, implied squirting, ab riding (thigh riding but abs), two-year age gap

you had seen him run his hand over his stomach a million times. it was maybe the one plus to having your baby brother - mingyu was his best friend, which meant every summer, you got to watch mingyu hanging out poolside. and in your mind, his body only got better every time you saw him. 

but this summer was maybe the peak summer for his ab game. they were truly mouthwatering. you had even picked up darker sunglasses just to feel more comfortable ogling him from your lounge chair. 

because why not? he was the one taking his shirt off at every opportunity and never seeming to put it back on, and you were just a pleased onlooker. one of many, you might add. 

besides, you knew him well enough to know all the awards he won for science fairs - he wasn’t unaware of his effect on anyone. in fact, you were fairly sure that he enjoyed his ability to have almost anyone openly stare at him in appreciation. you did not count yourself amongst the people who openly stared - you were less obvious - always hiding behind sunglasses, a book, and a hat. he did not need you feeding his oversized ego. 

the only issue was that he seemed to want your attention. he would go for a swim and then come to sit next to you, all wet and dripping and annoying. not to mention, he always wanted to know what you were reading. and the number of times you found yourself alone with him in the kitchen was a bit sus too - it was like he knew when you were going to your secret caprisun stash. and then you had to share so he wouldn’t tell anyone. 

it seemed to all come to a head one afternoon though - there was something about the middle of the day when really no one was outside - even with the pool and the ocean within walking distance, it was just the time to head inside. unless you had kim mingyu quizzing you over your current book, since he wanted an update on the drama. 

“you could just read it when i’m finished,” you groaned, happy that you were at least sitting in an oversized covered chair and avoiding the worst of the sun. 

“it’s better when i ask you - you have all your own little thoughts and commentary,” he whispered, his fingers tracing lightly along your side. 

you swatted his hand away, “rude,” you huffed. 

he smiled, “at least i don’t try to hide how much i watch you,” his voice was still gentle. 

“i don’t think there’s anyone hiding how much they look at you,” you turned onto your stomach, wanting to end the conversation. but you were literally in a little covered bubble with him, and turning over only meant you gave him tacit permission to touch your ass. 

you were quick to sit up and glare at him. but he didn’t shrink back like normal. he wasn’t exactly afraid of the person who had once been his babysitter - a two-year age gap didn’t really qualify you as more adult anymore, but it had always been just enough to lord over your brother and his friends when they annoyed you. he only looked amused now as he leaned close, tracing his fingers along the underside of your breast as his lips made contact with yours. 

things progressed quickly. 

and you found yourself straddling him, riding his abs, while he pushed the crotch of your bikini bottom out of the way to see your pussy. you couldn’t help that they were maybe your favorite part of his body, and since he had no issue with you rutting against him, you weren’t going to pass up the chance.

“so fucking hot,” you mumbled.

he grinned, “yeah?” his gaze flicking between your face and your pussy. 

you nodded, grinding your hips slowly over him, feeling just how defined his muscles were, every ridge helping you get closer to what you wanted, to come all over his perfect stomach. 

you could feel his hand shift to your hip, urging you on, “so good, baby girl,” he whispered as he watched you. 

you gasped when he touched your clit, “let me help, yeah?” 

you flushed but didn’t stop him - he was always helpful. it only took a few moments of his ministrations, and you felt the tightening in your stomach and your cunt - your thighs squeezed against him, “ fuck, mingyu, right there,” you whined, knowing your fingernails were leaving little half-moon marks on his chest. you didn't exactly mind the idea of anyone seeing those.

your orgasm was like a sudden flash, leaving you moaning and shaking as you came. you shivered gently, as he pulled you down to him, kissing you, “so good for me,” he whispered as his lips pressed to yours.

a/n: so i can write drabbles under certain conditions - sorry, i did have to sit with this a bit - i like when they have some litltle background thing going on ^^ and yessss, they're soft for each other ;-; i am who i am lol

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo ask the original bingo, is [here] and new nsfw only bingo is [here] - you can ask for squares from both

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @starlit-rin

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

[mi9yuz]

folded ✸ jww

Cursing, overthinking, mentions of kissing, sasaengs | masterlist

📞 love GRAMs: @seokmn @wonkierideul @kissbyoon @paradiseoflosers @savemyheart101 @reiofsuns2001 @ateez-atiny380 @peraltasvibe @raintapestry @jihoonsbbygirl @fluerchive

[scoupsakakitty]

Helloo! Can I request a story like this: Seungcheol and YN (a soloist) are secretly dating. They're both idols, but from different companies. YN's company has been treating her poorly. For example, when they went to an award show like MAMA, YN's company didn't provide her with any security guards. As a result, fans swarmed her at the airport. Seventeen happened to be at the airport at the same time, and Seungcheol saw YN trying to escape from the fans.

Lost In The Crowd | idol!scoups x idol!reader | angst, fluff

The airport was a warzone.

Fans, flashing cameras, and relentless shouts filled the space, suffocating in its chaos. The moment Y/N stepped into the arrival hall, a swarm of people surrounded her like a tidal wave crashing down. Her breath hitched as she tried to navigate through the crowd, her hands gripping the strap of her bag tightly.

Where were her security guards?

Right. There weren’t any.

SM hadn’t provided her with any. Again.

This wasn’t the first time they had neglected her safety, but it was certainly one of the worst instances. Hands reached out, pulling at her sleeves, tugging at her hair. She flinched at the aggressive push and pull, trying to force her way through the suffocating crowd. The flashing lights of cameras blinded her vision, and the cacophony of screaming voices made her ears ring.

She wasn’t going to make it. Her body was trembling, her breath quickening with panic. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.

And then—

“Y/N!”

That voice.

Her head snapped up, and there he was. Seungcheol.

He wasn’t supposed to be here. But he was. And he was running toward her.

Seungcheol didn’t hesitate. He pushed through the crowd, his larger frame making it easier to shove past the people swarming her. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a brief second, she saw the storm raging in them—anger, concern, desperation.

“Cheol,” she gasped when he reached her. She didn’t even realize her hands had automatically reached for him, seeking comfort, seeking safety.

His heart clenched at the way her voice trembled, at the sheer panic in her eyes. He had never seen her this afraid before, and it made his blood boil.

“I’m here,” he murmured, instantly pulling her into his arms. His hold was firm, reassuring. Protective. “I’ve got you.”

The crowd didn’t matter anymore. The flashing cameras, the prying eyes, the risk of exposing their relationship—none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was her.

She buried her face into his chest, gripping onto the fabric of his jacket as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “I was so scared,” she admitted in a broken whisper. “They just kept coming—I couldn’t get away.”

His jaw tightened. He ran a hand over her hair, trying to calm her, trying to will away the fear in her voice. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He wasn’t going to let her suffer through this alone.

But he also wasn’t going to let himself be reckless.

That’s when he heard them.

“Hyung!”

Seungcheol turned his head just in time to see Jeonghan, Mingyu, Dino, and Seungkwan making their way through the mass of people. They had seen him rush off and had immediately followed.

Jeonghan was the first to reach them, his sharp eyes scanning the situation. “This is bad,” he muttered, looking at the growing crowd. “We need to get out of here.”

Mingyu didn’t hesitate to step beside Seungcheol, shielding Y/N with his broad frame. “Noona, are you okay?”

Y/N managed a small nod, though her grip on Seungcheol hadn’t loosened. “Just… overwhelmed.”

Dino placed a hand on her shoulder, his usual playful demeanor replaced with pure concern. “Don’t worry, noona. We’ve got you.”

Seungkwan, ever the quick thinker, pulled his cap lower and glanced around. “If we don’t move now, we’re going to get completely trapped.”

Seungcheol nodded. “Let’s go.”

Together, they moved as a unit, shielding Y/N from the suffocating crowd. Cameras flashed, fans screamed, but they didn’t stop. They didn’t let go.

And in that moment, Y/N realized something.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

Seungcheol had made sure of that.

[blue-jisungs]

perchance minghao sketchbook for the ask game 😼

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! here u gooo! sorry its shortish, im staring to fall into writers blovk again lmfao + lowkey self indulgent. i really think art is such an intimate thing <3 EUGH he so gets it!!!

[ extras ! ] wc 177 + @kstrucknet <3

[ 9:28pm ] minghao entered the room, two cups of warm tea in his hands. 

“oh, you’re drawing?” he asked quietly and you looked up, halting your movements. 

“mhm” you hummed, pondering for a moment. 

minghao put the steaming cup on your desk, far enough it won’t get knocked accidentally. he rested his free hand on your shoulder, admiring your art with pride. 

he knew you were struggling with art block for the past few weeks. as an artist himself, he knew how discouraging that could be. 

“do you wanna see it? my sketchbook, i mean?” you asked quietly, almost shyly. 

his heart skipped a beat. you haven’t showed him his art yet, maybe some chosen sketches. 

a sketchbook is like one’s gateway to their soul. he knew how personal it can be; intimate even. 

“i’d love to” minghao couldn’t contain his smile, feeling proud that you felt comfortable enough to share your art with him. “can you talk me through it as well?” 

and he swore you looked at him like an excited puppy, happiness beaming from your features. 

m.list

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,,

@weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,,@mine-gyu ,, @nonononranghaee

@gyuwrites ,, @bbangbies ,, @hhaechansmoless ,, @jvkeslvr

[jinmindeulle]

xu minghao as your baby daddy | text au

you are on a work trip and your hubby keeps you updated! ming's version

baby daddy aus here!