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cheers-to-you-th · 3 days ago

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Don't Play Games (my heart is too fragile)

Pairing: Streamer!Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut !MDNI!, s2f2l (kinda)

Tags: Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, Streamer!AU, former college classmate!Seungcheol, very short period of angst, slow burn

WC: 21k

Summary: Getting addicted to watching hot men play video games was definitely not on your year's bingo card. Getting addicted to watching Choi Seungcheol of all people? The idea would have been laughable.

Warnings: Smut, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (they’re dumb, you shouldn’t be: wrap it before you tap it), pet names (princess), bigdick!Seungcheol, praise, some angst, lmk if I missed anything

taglist: @christinewithluv @cherry-zip @orngejuic @duckieo

The first time you stumbled upon Seungcheol's stream, it was an accident, a shocking one at that. It was just another boring day at work, your normal podcasts weren't doing it for you- listening about murders while writing a report on "harassment" between two employees who were simply arguing gave you some ideas that would not be very HR Manager of you- so you instead decide to go on twitch, your coworker had once told you it was perfect background noise.

You clicked on the first stream in the gaming category: Val w/coups by 'everyone_woo'. The stream had opened and the face of your old college classmate filled your screen and you nearly got whiplash from the double take you did.

Apparently the aforementioned "Coups" was the former infamous president of Chi Beta Zeta, Choi Seungcheol. It makes sense, you suppose- that they'd be friends- having been in the same frat, but the idea of shy Wonwoo from Engineering and not-so-shy Seungcheol, your fellow Communications major, was a little off-putting. That is, until you remember the other thing they had in common along with the rest of CBZ: sex.

Rumors constantly circulated: who Seungcheol brought upstairs at the last party, what girl Wonwoo was seen dragging into the supply closet near the library; although you were never a part of the rumors they spread like wildfire.

You shoved those thoughts aside as you finished the report, and when the rest of the day went by quicker than normal, you reminded yourself to thank Jeonghan later.

(And you definitely maybe went home and looked up "S.coups" on your computer before deciding his gravelly voice would be your new favorite white noise machine.)

Soon enough listening to him had become a habit; you were working? He was raging over a new fps he was trying; you were cleaning the house? He and Wonwoo were trying a new game pre-release.

—

On Wednesdays you, Minghao, and Jeonghan have a tradition: the three of you meet at a whole-in-the-wall cafe to gossip catch up with each other outside of work-talk. It started back in college, an agreement to always meet in the middle of the week for a break from everything—stress, assignments, life. Even now, years later, with jobs and responsibilities pulling you in different directions, Wednesdays remained sacred.

Today the three of you find yourselves in the same dimly lit restaurant you’ve all sworn by for years. It’s not anything fancy, but its quiet, comfortable, and, most importantly, they have a bartender who never questions the amount of time you all spend loitering at a table long after the food is gone.

Minghao is already there when you arrive, scrolling through his phone with the slight air of disinterest he always carried. Jeonghan shows up moments later, his usual carefree smile in place as he slid into the seat across from you.

“You’re late,” you tease, setting down your bag.

Jeonghan waves a hand dismissively. “Traffic.”

Minghao snorts, locking his phone. “We chose this place because it’s closer to your office so you can walk here.”

“Exactly,” Jeonghan says, grinning. “Too many people in my way.”

You roll your eyes but let it slide, already used to his antics. The three of you order your usuals, conversation flowing easily between catching up on work drama and not-work drama. It’s comfortable, familiar.

Then, as if on cue, Jeonghan’s eyes gleam with mischief, and you know what is coming before he even opens his mouth. “So,” he starts, resting his chin on his hand, “how’s our favorite Twitch streamer?”

You groan. “We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, we absolutely are,” Jeonghan counters. “Minghao, did you know our dear friend here has been religiously listening to Choi Seungcheol rage at video games?”

Minghao raises a brow, intrigued. “Seungcheol? That Seungcheol?”

You huff, sinking into your seat. “It’s just background noise. I put it on while I work.”

Jeonghan’s smirk widens at your dismissal. “Sure. Background noise. Because out of all the streams in the world, you just happened to choose your old college classmate’s?”

Minghao, ever observant, takes a sip of his drink before adding, “You know, he mentioned you a couple times.”

You blink. “What?”

Jeonghan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Back in CBZ, there was a few months where all he could talk about was you. He thought you were cute and would get really annoyed when you brushed him off. It was super funny seeing him finally get rejected, even if it was just because you were too oblivious to notice him flirting with you.”

“Dense,” Minghao supplies. “That was the word he used.”

You roll your eyes at them, “I wasn’t dense or oblivious, I don’t even remember talking to him for more than ten seconds. I was too focused on trying to graduate, plus he wasn’t my type.”

“Suuuuuure.” Jeonghan leers, “That’s why you listen to his voice on a daily basis now. Regret some things?”

You don’t roll your eyes at him, focusing intently on your drink as you swirl the liquid in your glass. “Whatever, I just thought it was more interesting to listen to someone I kind of knew instead of some random person.”

Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look that makes it clear this conversation is far from over, but, mercifully, they let it go—for now.

—

A week later they grill you about Seungcheol one more time before finally deciding to let it go, thinking finally you can live in peace.

That’s why you’re almost having a heart attack as you exit the elevator to see the very man of your dreams standing outside the apartment adjacent to yours, moving boxes in hand. Frozen, you stand there gawking looking at him. As if he can feel your gaze, Seungcheol looks over at you and raises an eyebrow in question, looking borderline nervous and irritated. It broke whatever trance you were in as you introduced yourself (trying your best not to stutter) as a former classmate. He visibly relaxed at that while his eyes lit up in recognition.

“Professor Han’s class, right? We had a study group together one time.” You nod, thinking back to how girls had glared at you during class for daring to be randomly grouped with Seungcheol. The session had gone by quickly, slipping your mind until now.

“Uh, yeah, for midterms practice I think. I’m surprised you remember.” Your response has a smile pulling at the corners of his (annoyingly perfect) lips.

“Hard to forget such a pretty face.”

His words cause your eyes to roll, some things never change you suppose. You hum in response, “Except when I first came up here and you looked like I had insulted your entire bloodline or something.”

Seungcheol’s smile, you decide, is your favorite sight. His eyes crinkle at the sides, the cutest dimples form on his cheeks when his lips curl upwards, a chuckle escaping them. “Sorry, I just thought- it doesn’t matter. It was really good seeing you again though.” A matching smile on your face, you offer to help him with any boxes but he only shakes his head.

“I was taught to never let a lady carry her own things, carrying mine? Unheard of. Although if you want to cheer me on I wouldn’t mind seeing your face more.” He winks and you just shake your head, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks. You respond with something about outdated views before excusing yourself to the safety of your apartment, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart.

—

Over the next few weeks, the two bump into each other frequently; exiting your apartments, entering the complex; each time briefly chatting before going your separate ways. Some nights you would get a notification about a stream, only to hear him talking through your bedroom wall. Part of you felt bad watching him play, guilt gnawing away at your thoughts and distracting you.

It’s fine you tell yourself as you write the marketing team’s monthly performance report.

It’s fine you delude yourself as you hand said report to your deskmate, Minghao, to review.

It’s fi-shit you finally are snapped out of your denial when Minghao hands your report back covered in red pen marks and shame. He says your name with concern lacing his voice, “Have you been doing okay? You seem kind of… off and I’ve never seen this kind of work from you before.”

You shake your head, burying your face in your hands, “Sorry Hao, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He just tilts his head and tells you that, if you ever need to talk, he’s here. That was the downside of working with your best friend– you could never hide anything from him. Normally you’d take him up on the offer- tell him your woes and such- if it wasn’t so goddamn embarrassing. You brush him off before taking a deep breath and steel yourself as you weigh your options. You could either tell Seungcheol that you watch his streams or stop watching them altogether, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be inflating his ego anymore (at least that’s the reason you tell yourself, it’s definitely not that you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around you).

The rest of the day goes by at a torturing pace, no commentary in the background to make time fly quicker. By the time you get on the bus, you’re half-asleep, and then you’re full asleep, head lulled to the side, bouncing uncomfortably on the window, not that you notice.

“..am? Ma’am this is the last stop. You need to get off now.” The driver of the bus stands in front of you while you rub the sleep out of your eyes and look around. Taking note of the darkness outside the window and unfamiliar street, you sigh and lean your head against the window again, flinching at your slightly bruised head.

Could this day get any fucking better.

You apologize to the driver, who just looks at you with pity, and get off the bus, gauging your surroundings and sighing, breath fogging in front of you. Your bus stop is one of the last ones, meaning after a second you realize where you are and groan, pulling out your phone to call a car. Except of-fucking-course your phone is dead. It’s late, the watch on your wrist reading 11:56 (thank god at least something of yours is working) and look around one more time, hoping a taxi would drive by and save you from the cold night. Shoulders slumped in resignation, you start walking towards your apartment, it’s only a few blocks away, a maybe twenty minute walk, as long as your notoriously shitty sense of direction screws you over, which it does. By the time you reach your building you’re shivering, nose and fingers red as you reach into your bag for your keys.

Keys.

Keys that you remember setting on your desk at work but don’t remember picking up. You want to scream. And cry. Mostly cry, if you’re gonna be honest because now your shitty day turned into an even shittier night. Morning, you realize as your watch now reads 12:34. A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you slump down next to the apartment complex’s glass door that seems to taunt you, as if it's rubbing in your face how close relief is and how unreachable.

You feel your throat start to tighten and tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Y/n?”

You think you’re starting to go insane from the cold until a warm hand lands on your shoulder, a shadow crouching in front of you. Looking up hesitantly, you come face to face with your new neighbor, plastic bag in hand from what you assume to be a late-night snack run. The tears in your eyes start to fall as you begin to sob, if you were in your right mind this would be the most embarrassing moment of your life, but right now you’re cold and hungry and scared and this man appeared like an angel sent from heaven just to help you.

“Oh my god, you’re freezing. What are you even- nevermind that come on.” Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you as he helps you up, getting into the building with his keys and walking with you to the elevator. When it starts to ascend, Seungcheol sets his bag on the ground and takes his jacket off, wrapping it around you. You don’t even have the strength to argue with him, all of it spent on the tears that now slowed to a stop as you look down at your feet, shame starting to kick in. You don’t want to imagine the look on his face right now, knowing it’ll be the same pitying glances you’ve received all day.

The elevator dings as it arrives on the correct floor. Your feet start moving, muscle memory kicking in until you’re at your door, realizing you still don’t have your keys. When an arm once again wraps around you, you don’t even protest, allowing Seungcheol to guide you into his apartment, where he sets blankets and pillows on his couch. When you move to lay on it, he stops you.

“What are you doing? I’m sleeping on the couch, you can take my bed.” The words seemingly bring you out of the numb trance-like state you’d been in ever since you stopped crying.

“I- what?! No, oh my god Seungcheol no, I couldn’t- I mean you’re already doing so much for me and-” A warm hand cups touches your forehead, promptly cutting off your rambling as your frantic eyes meet Seungcheol’s warm gaze. Fuck he shouldn’t look at you like that.

“No offense Y/n but you look like you’re on the verge of hypothermia, you need the bed more than I do.” His hand moves from your cheek to pat the top of your head as you huff, letting Seungcheol guide you to his room where. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch him rummage through his closet before emerging with a victorious smile and a large T-shirt.

“Wear this- before you argue,” He cuts off your protests before they can even start, “think of it as me not wanting dirty clothes on my bed and, as much as I would love to see it, you are way too cold to be sleeping in panties tonight.”

Your face flushes as you grab the shirt he holds out to you, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you Seungcheol. Really. I’m sorry that you have to do this, but I really do appreciate it.” Glancing up at him, you watch as his teasing smirk melts into something different, softer.

“Don’t apologize. I’ll always be here if you need help with something, what are neighbors for?” walking towards the door, Seungcheol looks back at you one more time, “I normally wouldn’t let you sleep without at least having a warm bath to stop a cold, but I think you’d pass out in the shower if I tried. Get a good night’s rest, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.” And even after he leaves the room, his warmth stays, the soft gaze he’d given you burned into your eyelids as you drift to sleep.

—

The scent of coffee and bacon wakes you from deep sleep. For a second, you're disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings causing a brief panic before switching to embarrassment as memories of last night flood back. You're in Seungcheol's bed, wrapped in his sheets that smell faintly of pinewood and something uniquely him.

Sunlight streams through gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across the room. You stretch away the ache in your muscles from the cold and stress of yesterday, tugging the oversized shirt Seungcheol lent you down as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.

Your bare feet hit cool hardwood, as you shuffle towards the bedroom door, following the enticing smell of breakfast. In the kitchen, Seungcheol stands at the stove, his broad back to you.

As you approach, Seungcheol turns, spatula in hand, and flashes you a heart-stopping smile. "Morning. How are you feeling?"

You run a hand through your sleep-mussed hair, suddenly self-conscious. "Better, thanks to you. I can't believe that happened."

"Hey, don’t worry about it," he chuckles. "I figured you could use the rest. Coffee?"

You nod gratefully while he pours you a steaming mug. Seungcheol plates up eggs, bacon, and toast. The domesticity of the scene isn't lost to you - here you are, in his clothes, sharing breakfast in his kitchen. It feels dangerously intimate.

"Thanks," you murmur, accepting the plate he hands you. "You really didn't have to do all this."

Seungcheol waves off your gratitude as he settles across from you at the small kitchen table. "It's no trouble. Besides, I couldn't let you face the day on an empty stomach after last night."

You take a bite of the perfectly crispy bacon, trying not to moan at how good it tastes. As you eat in companionable silence, you can't help but sneak glances at Seungcheol. His hair is slightly mussed from sleep, a slight sleepy haze in his eyes. He looks softer like this, less like the polished streamer and more like the boy you’d seen in college.

"So," he says after a while, setting down his mug. "Want to tell me what happened last night?"

You hesitate, your fork hovering over your plate. What were you supposed to say? That you had been thinking of him non-stop for the last 24 hours? That you were a mess whose sense of direction was almost as bad as your work-life balance? That you'd been caught in what was arguably one of your worst moments, by none other than the main cause of your original turmoil?

He seems to sense your internal conflict because he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. His tone softens, playful but not prying. "You don’t have to, y'know. I just figured you might want to talk about it. Seems like you had a long day, I won’t judge."

You sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion creep back in. "It’s not even that interesting," you start, avoiding his eyes. " It was just... one thing after another. Fell asleep on the bus, could’t call a taxi caus’ my phone died, forgot my keys at work; Honestly, the world was conspiring against me the whole day, I swear."

Seungcheol hums thoughtfully, swirling the last of his coffee in his mug. "Sounds rough. No one likes walking around in the freezing cold with no way to get inside. It was a good thing I went out when I did, maybe it’s a sign I should take more midnight snack runs."

You laugh softly and promptly ignore the stuttering of your heart, "Hopefully it won’t happen again," you admit. "And… either way it’s not exactly something I want to bother you with."

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "You weren’t a bother at all. Besides, I think helping you out is the bare minimum of what neighbors should do, don’t you?"

Neighbor. The word feels heavier than it should, he’s right; all you are to him is a neighbor, nothing more nothing less. You try to play off the feeling of your heart dropping into your shoes, shaking your head with a small laugh. "I have to admit, I’d never have guessed you were the knight-in-shining-armour type. At-night-in-UnderArmour maybe, but this is unexpected"

Seungcheol grins, his dimples flashing. "Hey now, don’t let the frat guy rep fool you. I’ve always been nice."

You laugh at that, the tension in your chest loosening. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

As he rinses the dishes, you take a moment to look around his apartment. It’s cozy, a mix of modern furniture and personal touches—a stack of books on the coffee table, a framed photo of what looks like his old frat brothers on a shelf, and a ridiculous number of gaming peripherals on his desk. It suits him, you think, the same way his easy smile and annoyingly perfect hair suit him.

"So," Seungcheol says, drying his hands before turning to face you. "Any plans today? Or are you planning to crash and catch up on sleep?"

"Work," you groan, already dreading the thought of going back to the office. "I have to deal with a report I butchered yesterday."

"Rough," he says, leaning against the counter. "Tell you what—after work, if you’re up for it, I’ll make dinner. Consider it part two of my neighborly duties."

The offer catches you off guard, but you manage to nod despite the sudden flutter in your stomach. "You don��t have to keep feeding me, you know."

Seungcheol just shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye. "I know. But I want to. Plus, you owe me. You cried on my shirt last night, remember?"

Your jaw drops, heat rushing to your face as you groan. "I did not—!"

"You totally did," he interrupts with a laugh, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "It’s okay, though. It’s a good story."

"You’d better not go spreading this around mister." you say, pointing a warning finger at him. But the smile tugging at your lips betrays you, and Seungcheol just grins wider.

"Hmm I make no promises madam."

As you gather your things and prepare to face the day, Seungcheol’s warm gaze and easy laughter lingers in your mind, making you feel giddy and guilty at the same time. And as you step out of his apartment, you realize you’re already looking forward to the evening.

—

The day drags on slower than you’d like, each hour feeling like an eternity between the mountain of emails, the endless meetings, and the painstakingly slow process of fixing your stupid report.

By the time you get back to your apartment (with your keys this time, thank god), exhaustion is settled deep in your bones. You drop your bag by the door and kick off your shoes, barely making it to the couch before collapsing in a heap. The thought of getting up, even to change out of your work clothes, feels like an impossible task.

A soft knock at your door jolts you out of your half-asleep state. For a split second, you consider ignoring it, but then you remember Seungcheol’s offer(demand?) from this morning. With a groan, you drag yourself up and shuffle to the door, opening it to find him standing there, a grin on his face and a grocery bag in hand.

"Thought you might be too tired to make it over," he says, holding up the bag. "So, I figured I’d bring the dinner to you."

You blink at him, caught off guard. "You… didn’t have to do that," you mumble, though the smell wafting from the bag has your stomach growling in protest.

He laughs, brushing past you into the apartment. "I know. But you seemed like you had a long day, and I wasn’t about to let you skip a proper meal. Plus, I’m not sure I trust you to make anything edible in your state."

"Hey!" you protest, following him into the kitchen. "I’m perfectly capable of cooking, thank you very much."

He raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning your kitchen clearly unconvinced. "Sure you are. When was the last time you had something that wasn’t instant ramen or takeout?"

You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue because… well, the empty takeout boxes in your kitchen speak enough. Instead, you cross your arms and huff. "Fine. You win. But only because I’m too tired to argue."

"Glad we’re on the same page," he says, already unpacking the bag and setting up in your kitchen like he owns the place. You watch as he moves with practiced ease, pulling out ingredients and utensils like he’s done this a million times before.

It’s oddly comforting, watching him work. The kitchen feels warmer, cozier, with him in it. You find yourself leaning against the counter, a small smile tugging at your lips as he chats about his day—about how his coworker accidentally sent an email to the entire company, or how he nearly slipped on ice outside his building.

Before you know it, the smell of something delicious fills the air, and your stomach growls loudly, earning a laugh from Seungcheol.

"I guess you’re hungry," he teases, sliding a plate in front of you.

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin as you pick up your fork. "If this is bad, I’m never letting you live it down."

He smirks, leaning against the counter as he watches you take your first bite. The flavors hit your tongue, and you can’t help the satisfied hum that escapes you.

"Okay, fine," you admit, reluctantly. "This is… not bad."

"Sure, not bad. Dare you say good?" he says, his grin widening. "You’re welcome, by the way."

The two of you eat together, the conversation flowing easily. It’s light and playful, with just the right amount of teasing to keep you on your toes. By the time the plates are empty, you realize you’re smiling more than you have in days.

As he helps you clean up, you find yourself glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he laughs, that makes your chest feel a little too tight and your thoughts a little too scattered.

"Thanks for this," you say softly as he dries the last plate. "I really needed it."

He looks at you, his expression softening. "Anytime," he says simply. "That’s what neighbors are for, right?"

Neighbor. There it is again, that word. But this time, it doesn’t feel as heavy. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s not about what you are to each other now, but about what you could be.

—

A few days pass in a blurry haze. Seungcheol’s number was now saved in your phone, his occasional texts making you more giddy than you’d like to admit. The two of you occasionally see each other in the hallway, tonight he knocks on your door with food in hand, claiming he made too much and offering you some. You invite him in to share the meal (you’re just being a good neighbor), laughing and joking around as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And honestly, it kind of was.

Seungcheol insists on brewing you a cup of tea before he leaves, claiming it’s the perfect way to wind down after a long day. You let him, mostly because you’re too tired to argue but also because, well… It's nice having him here.

He chats while the kettle heats up, leaning casually against the counter like he belongs in your kitchen. The way he speaks, the rhythm of his voice, fills the quiet space in a way that feels natural—like he’s not just filling silence but adding something to it.

When he hands you the steaming mug, his fingers brush yours briefly, and you try not to overthink the spark of warmth that lingers long after he pulls away.

"So, any big plans tomorrow?" he asks, settling into a chair at your kitchen table. It feels oddly domestic, like this is something the two of you do all the time. You shake your head, cradling the mug in your hands. "Just work. Again. Though I’m praying for fewer disasters this time."

He chuckles, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you. "Sounds like you could use a break. Maybe take the weekend off, do something fun."

You snort softly. “Like what, go clubbing or something? Not really my vibe."

"Doesn’t have to be that extreme," he says, grinning. "It could be something simple. A walk in the park, binge-watching a terrible reality show, or trying out that café down the street you keep mentioning but never go to."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you suggesting I take myself on a date?"

"Hey, self-care is important," he says with a shrug, though the teasing glint in his eye suggests he’s enjoying himself. "But if you need a plus-one, I might be available."

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you’re not entirely sure how to respond. Is he joking? Probably. But there’s a softness in his expression that makes you wonder if there’s more to it than that.

"I’ll think about it," you say finally, trying to sound casual. "But don’t get your hopes up, Cheol. I’m not easy to impress."

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. "So it’s Cheol now, huh? Don’t apologize- I like it." he once again practically reads your thoughts, “And here, once you’re done thinking, let me know, yeah? Or in case you get locked out again.” Seungcheol slides over his phone with a new contact open as you roll your eyes, typing your number in anyways.

It’s late by the time he finally leaves, the mug you used now washed and drying on the counter. As you close the door behind him, your apartment feels quieter than it did before. Not in a bad way— the kind of quiet that lets you think. You find yourself replaying the evening in your head: his laugh, the way he somehow managed to turn your chaotic kitchen into a space that felt warm and inviting, the way his gaze didn’t leave you once when the two of you talked.

Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus on getting ready for bed. It’s nothing, you tell yourself. He’s probably just trying to make some new friends in the neighborhood.

But as you crawl under the covers, your mind drifts back to his earlier word, "If you need a plus-one, I might be available." The thought lingers, a soft thread of warmth that wraps around your chest as you grab your phone, typing a message before you can change your mind. Your fingers hover over the screen for a moment before you close your eyes and press send.

You: So how about that date?

The text felt heavier as the three little dots that blink back at you in reply. You hold your breath, heartbeat thudding in your ears.

When his text pops up on your phone, a shy smile automatically spreads across your face as you read it.

Seungcheol: How about Saturday?

Seungcheol: I’ll plan it—just be ready by 10.

The squeal you let out could rival one of a teenage girl on her first date as you kick your feet giddily in bed. Fuck, you were already down so bad. When you hear a chuckle through the wall your phone drops to the floor with a thud as it buzzes again..

Seungcheol: Careful, I might start to hope you’re looking forward to seeing me

This arrogant correct motherfucker. Your fingers type a quick response, trying to save whatever dignity you have left.

You: Saw a spider

You: Anyways where should I meet you?

His response makes your eyes roll with endearment annoyance.

Seungcheol: I think your memories are getting mixed up, spider was what everyone called Hoshi, not me. And no spoilers, just dress comfortably.

—

Two days later, Saturday morning rolls around, and you’re standing in front of your mirror, staring at your outfit for the third time. He said casual, so why are you frantically searching for the perfect attire?

It’s fine, you think, not over the top. He doesn’t know what your closet looks like anyways, for all he knows you always wear this kind of clothes.

Your cozy beige sweater is paired with jeans and ankle boots, casual but still nice. Your makeup is light, natural.

A knock on your door makes your heart jolt. Grabbing your bag, you take a steadying breath before opening it.

Seungcheol stands there, hands casually tucked in his jacket pocket, a grin already spreading across his face. His eyes flick up and down your body once, twice, hitching in some areas before finally settling on your eyes.

“You-” He clears his throat, “You look really good.” His eyes flick away from yours briefly, you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of too good but it must be your imagination, flustered by how the man in front of you seems almost shy.

“Thanks,” you reply, giving him a similar once over to the one he’d subjected you to earlier.

Black cargo pants with a dark denim jacket (that somehow looks warm) over a white graphic T. The outfit might look sloppy on someone else, but Seungcheol makes it look like he should be on a runway, the clothes draping over him perfectly as though everything was custom-made for him.

“You don’t look half bad yourself.”

“You really are hard to impress huh?” he teases. “Lucky for you I’m always happy to deliver. Ready to go?”

The two of you walk to the parking outside as you chat, getting into his annoyingly nice car. You can’t help but wonder where he’s taking you as the roads out the window blur. No matter how hard you try to pry the information out of him, he doesn’t budge. A lesson in patience, he tells you. When the car finally stops, you look around, surprised– an amusement park.

“Seriously?” you ask, poorly trying to hide your smile as you stare at him.

“What? Too childish for you princess?” he says with a sly grin. You just hum in faux indignation, giving up on any attempt at hiding your smile.

The park is alive with bright lights, lively music; the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes wafting through the chilly air. You wander through the attractions, playing a few games and riding the tamer rides to start. At one of the stands, Seungcheol picks up two pairs of animal ears, holding them where you can’t see.

“Pick a side.” he states with a sparkle in his eyes, hands behind his back.

You roll your eyes at his antics and do as he asks.

“Good choice,” he said, handing you a pair of floppy bunny ears, putting the other set- wolf ears- on his own head. “How do I look?”

You snort. “Ridiculous.”

“Come on princess, I think yours suit you perfectly,” he teased, tugging gently on one of the ears now perched on your head. He drags you over to one of the photo-booths scattered around the park and pulls you inside as you laugh.

His arm is wrapped around you, who instinctively leans into his shoulder as the screen counts down. After some more silly shots, the last timer runs on the screen. The two of you are posing when you impulsively turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek as the flash goes off. Before you can try and see Seungcheols expression you quickly get out of the booth, crouching down to wait for the photos to print. A shadow surrounds you but you ignore it, grabbing the two photo stips and standing up, actively avoiding looking at the man behind you until you feel strong arms circle around your waist.

“Don’t get shy on me now, princess.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and quiet, his breath tickling you neck. He gently turns you around in his arms, forcing you to face him. When you do, you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.

His eyebrows raise, expression soft and questioning as you raise your hand to his cheek. “You’ve uh.. Got a little something on here.” Before you can wipe off the lipstick mark a hand grabbing your wrist stops you. Seungcheol just hums, the smile on his face growing as he responds. “Leave it there, I like it.”

You look away, flustered, “It might stain.”

His smile only grows further as his hands squeeze your waist reassuringly, “Even better.”

A few more hours fly by in a blur of laughter, shared glances, and the occasional screaming as you ride a roller coaster. As the day winds down, Seungcheol leads you toward the Ferris wheel.

“Ending with a Ferris wheel ride at sunset huh?” you tease with a smirk. “Classic.”

He chuckles. “You’re smiling, so I think it’s worth being cheesy.”

Your face flushes as you step into the car with him, the soft glow of the park lights casting everything in a dreamy haze. As the wheel lifts you higher, you take in the moment—simple, sweet, and perfect.

The car sways gently as it begins to ascend, the world growing smaller beneath your feet. Seungcheol leans back in the seat across from you, his arm casually draped across the edge, as though the intimacy of the situation didn’t seem to bother him at all. Meanwhile, your heart is racing, the memories of the day making it difficult to keep your composure as you keep your eyes trained on the park as it gets smaller and smaller.

“Nice view,” the man across from you murmurs. When you sneak a glance at him, his eyes aren’t on the horizon—they’re focused on you, his soft expression making your breath hitch.

You bite the inside of your cheek, turning to face the window again. “Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you agree, your voice coming out shakier than intended. The warmth of the sunset casts a golden glow across the park below, lights beginning to twinkle as the day faded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungcheol shift slightly closer. “You’ve been smiling all day,” he comments. “Do I get some credit for that, or was it just the funnel cakes?”

You laugh, turning back to meet his gaze. “Oh definitely the funnel cake, But you’re decent company too, I guess.”

He grins, leaning forward just slightly. “Decent? Come on, you can do better than that.”

You raise a brow, trying to hold your ground despite how his closeness makes you feel like melting into the seat. “Don’t push your luck.”

For a moment, there’s nothing but the distant hum of the park and the creak of the Ferris wheel as it carries you higher. His expression softens, and he tilts his head slightly, as though weighing his next words carefully. “You know,” he starts, his voice low, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I hoped you were looking forward to seeing me.”

Your breath catches, and you search his face for any trace of teasing, but his expression is nothing but sincerity with a tinge of nervousness. “Maybe I was,” you admit quietly.

His smile widens, dimples returning with full force as the confidence that had momentarily wavered in his eyes returns. “I’m glad. Maybe I was hoping to see you too.”

The car comes to a stop at the top of the wheel, leaving the two of you suspended in the sky. The view is breathtaking, but all you can focus on is the way Seungcheol’s eyes shine, on the curve of his nose, where your lips are stamped on his cheek, how soft and welcoming his own lips look. His fingers brush your own and your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and steady, as if sensing your hesitation.

You nod, your gaze flicking between his eyes and the hand now gently covering yours. “Yeah. Just… you make me nervous.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to jump out of the ferris wheel.

He chuckles softly, the sound halting your thoughts. “Ditto.” he remarks and you swear your heart stops as he leans closer, his voice barely above a whisper. His face is inches from yours, the space between you charged with tension. You could feel the warmth of his breath mixing with your own, the weight of his presence grounding you and making your head spin all at once.

And then, as though the universe decided it hated you, the car jolts slightly, the Ferris wheel beginning its descent. The tension clears, and you both laugh as it dissolves into something softer and more familiar. When you both reach the ground, Seungcheol offers you a hand as you step out of the gondola, not letting go until the two of you reach his car.

Seungcheol opens the passenger door for you, his hand lingering on the frame as you step in. He waits until you’re settled, closing the door with a gentle thud before walking around to the driver’s side. As he slides into the seat, the soft click of the doors locking echoes in the quiet night.

The drive home is comfortable, the radio humming a mellow tune as the city lights streak past the windows. Neither of you speak much, but for once you don’t mind the silence, it’s comfortable, as if the events of the day are still settling in your minds.

When the two of you finally arrive at your adjacent apartments, he turns to look at you.

“So,” he begins, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt, “did I live up to your standards of being ‘decent company’?”

You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. “I guess you weren’t terrible,” you reply, feigning nonchalance.

He chuckles, shaking his head as he leans against the wall. “I’ll take it. Progress is progress.”

The silence that follows isn’t awkward—it’s heavy with the weight of the day, the laughter, the quiet moments, and the words that neither of you seems quite ready to say.

“Well,” you finally say, your hand moving to the door handle, “thanks for today. I really needed it.”

Seungcheol doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the photo strip from earlier at the amusement park. He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing yours when you take it.

You glance down at the photos—the silly poses, the bunny ears, the surprised look on his face as you kissed his cheek—and your chest tightens in the best way possible. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the stillness.

When you look back up, he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. He shifts, fingers lightly grazing yours.

“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice steadier than you feel. “If you’re up for it… we should do this again sometime.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. “Yeah,” you manage, your voice soft. “I’d like that too.”

His smile grows, and for a split second, you think he might lean in, but instead, he squeezes your hand gently before pulling back. “Get some rest.” he says, his tone light but his eyes lingering on yours.

As you open your door, the apartment inside feels emptier than normal. You pause, glancing back at Seungcheol.

“Text me when you’re free,” he says, his grin now fully teasing. “Or, you know, just knock on the wall or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you softly close the door. Your heart races as you lean against it, the photo strip still clutched in your hand. You glance down at the images, your smile widening as you run your thumb over the glossy surface.

You were screwed—completely and utterly fucked—but for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind one bit.

—

Jeonghan is late again, you’d think he’d learn to use his time better on Wednesdays but some things never change, you suppose. You sit across from Hao, sipping on your coffee as he eyes you suspiciously.

“So,” he begins, placing his tea on the table, his voice carrying that signature teasing lilt. “You went on a date.”

You nearly choke, coughing into your hand as you set your drink down. “Excuse me? How do you know that?”

He just smirks, leaning back in his chair with an air of triumph. “I was just guessing but you just confirmed it.”

Your jaw drops at his audacity. “That’s not fair—you tricked me!”

“Hardly,” he replies, stirring his tea with mock innocence. “You’re just too easy to read. So was it good?”

Before you can fire back, a familiar voice cuts in, smooth and teasing. “What’s this about a date?”

You turn to see Jeonghan strolling toward your table, his blazer slung over one shoulder and his hair annoyingly perfect, as if he’d stepped out of a magazine, not his office. He grins as he pulls out a chair to join you.

“Oh, great,” you mutter, sinking into your seat. “Now it’s both of you.”

Jeonghan raises a brow, clearly delighted. “Both of us? This sounds like a story. Go on, I’m listening.”

Minghao smirks, pointing at you with his spoon. “She went on a date.”

“Stop saying it like that,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Ooh, let me guess, the new neighbor you told us about?”

You sigh, knowing you’re outnumbered. “Okay, okay fine. Yes, with the neighbor, and it was nice. That’s all you’re getting.”

“Nice?” Jeonghan repeats, feigning disappointment. “That’s all? Come on, you can do better than that. You haven’t been on a date in god-knows how long and all you can say is ‘nice’?”

“Why are you even here?” you snap, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped through.

Minghao tilts his head thoughtfully. “Was it ‘okay’ good or ‘planning another date’ good?”

“I’m betting it’s the second one.” Jeonghan said, his voice lilting.

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “Why do I tell either of you anything?”

Jeonghan flashes his signature cheshire smile, nudging your arm. “Because we’re your favorite. Now, come on. Was there a spark? A magical moment? Did you trip over something and land in his arms? Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Nothing like that, you dork.” you respond, trying to hide your smile but failing miserably. “It was just... fun. Exciting. Better than I thought it would be.” Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look, one of those silent, unspoken conversations that only the three of you could understand.

“Definitely planning date two,” Minghao says, deadpan.

You groan again, but the warmth of their teasing—playful and supportive—makes it impossible to be annoyed. “I hate you guys,” you mumble, though your laugh gives you away.

“And yet,” Jeonghan teases, raising an imaginary glass, “you keep us around. To your nice, hot neighbor for finally getting you out of your apartment!”

Minghao raises his tea to join in. “Cheers to that.”

Rolling your eyes, you clink your mug against theirs. “You’re both insufferable.”

“For sure,” Minghao says with a smile, “that’s why you love us.”

—

Weeks pass in a blur of updating your nosy friends and texting Seungcheol, soon enough you find yourself looking forward to his messages, giddy feelings replaced with warmth and comfort. The banter is light but always at the edge of something more lingering between every word.

Cheol: So u finally going to admit that you miss me?You: I don’t wanna lie to you Cheol.Cheol: You say that now, but wait until this weekend. You’ll be begging for more.You: Oh? What if I have plans this weekend? You know, being busy and all that.Cheol: Then I guess I’ll have to cancel my dinner reservations :(You: We can't have that can we?

The next message is an address and the words: 7pm

Saturday evening comes faster than you expected, and when you glance at the clock, the realization hits that you’re running behind. You rush to get ready, a mix of excitement and nerves churning in your stomach as you pick out an outfit matching the nice restaurant Seungcheol had sent you. You want to show him a side of yourself that’s more than you coming home or leaving for work.

You choose a dark red dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. The neckline dips just low enough, an elegant slit running up the side. Paired with black heels and a sleek necklace dangling almost dangerously low, it feels just right. You spend a little extra time on makeup, defining each feature and topping it off with a red lip that matches your dress. By the time you’re finished, you feel more confident than you have in a while.

A knock at your door sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins.You check the mirror one last time before stepping toward the door, trying to keep your composure.

When the door opens Seungcheol just stands there for a second, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. The intensity of the gaze almost has you feeling self-conscious, until you see the way his eyes take on a slightly glazed quality instead of the usual teasing glint.

“Damn,” he finally breathes out, his voice low and shaky. “You look… wow.”

You bite back your smile, feeling your cheeks heat up at his gaze. “Thanks,” you say, trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably.

He steps closer, his gaze still lingering on you, and you can almost feel magnetic pull in the space between you. “I… ” His eyes flick down to your heels and then back up to your face, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I might need to take a second to adjust.”

You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hands burning your hips through the fabric of your dress, “Well, would you look at that? Choi Seungcheol is actually tongue-tied.”

Seungcheol’s grin widens, “How could I not be speechless when you look like that?”, he asks before taking your hand and leading you to his car. The ride is short, but this time, it feels different. The air between you is thick with anticipation, neither of you speaking much—words feel unnecessary when the moment speaks for itself.

When you arrive at the restaurant, the valet greets Seungcheol like an old friend, and you can’t help but notice the way he carries himself—confident, composed, like he belongs in this world. He guides you through the entrance, a small smile on his face as gently takes your hand.

The restaurant has an air of quiet elegance, the kind that feels effortlessly luxurious. The lighting is soft, casting a golden glow on the crisp white table-cloths, the flickering candlelight adding a comforting warmth. The faint murmur of conversation fills the background, but you feel as if the two of you are in your own little world.

Seungcheol pulls your chair out for you as you sit, and you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural he makes everything feel, despite the grandeur of the setting. You settle into your seat, your hand instinctively resting on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing the silverware as you glance around. The atmosphere is luxurious, yes, but there’s something reassuring about the way Seungcheol carries himself, like he’s right at home here.

Once the menus are set in front of you, Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate. He scans the offerings with a casual air but glances over at you as you study the menu in your hands. "Don't let the fancy setting fool you. The food here is surprisingly good. I’ve been here more than once.” he says, his voice smooth and low, the confidence he carries in all things evident in the casual mention.

You chuckle, glancing up at him. “Take a lot of your dates here, do you?”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Only one.”

You can’t help the shy smile that spreads across your face, “Who would have known you’re secretly a softy.”

He leans forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “I’ve got layers, princess. Lots of layers.”

The way he says it, so effortlessly confident, causes your stomach to flutter a lot little. You take a sip of your water, trying not to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “I’m sure. I bet you’re the life of the party at places like this.”

Seungcheol smirks and leans back in his chair, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I can be. But I also know when to appreciate the quiet nights. Sometimes it’s better to enjoy the little things.” His gaze shifts to meet yours then, a quiet intensity in his eyes. It’s a subtle change, but one that makes your heart race.

You swallow, suddenly acutely aware of his gaze. You glance at the menu again, though you haven’t truly registered anything on it. “I’ll take your word for it,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.

When the waiter returns to take your order, Seungcheol speaks for both of you, his choices seemingly effortless. You take the time to fully appreciate the man in front of you; the way his red tie is the same hue as your dress, how his white button up stretches across his chest giving an outline of a fit physique further supported in the way his sleeves strain against his arms.

Seungcheol clears his throat, and you realize you’ve been caught red-handed, so you decide to just shrug because yeah, he’s hot. There’s something more serious about the way Seungcheol watches you now, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the way the candlelight plays in your hair. It’s as if the energy in the room has shifted, becoming a little more personal.

“I have to admit,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer than before, “I’m having a really good time.”

You laugh, but it’s not from nervousness. It’s a genuine sound. “You’ve been teasing me nonstop for days. I’d hope you at least had a good time after all that hard work.”

His lips curve into that familiar teasing smile. “I’ve been doing more than teasing. You just don’t realize it yet.” He tilts his head slightly. “I’m glad you came, though. Really.”

The words, simple as they are, catch you off guard. It’s one thing for him to be flirty, but for him to show this side of him, this quiet sincerity... you weren’t prepared for it.

Before you can respond, the drinks arrive—a crisp white wine for you, a rich red for him. The clink of glass as it’s set on the table draws you back into the moment. Seungcheol raises his glass, his eyes locked on yours. "To good company," he says, his tone earnest but playful.

You smile and clink your glass against his, the material cool against your fingers. “To good company,” you repeat, your voice just as soft.

The conversation flows easy after that, not forced, but natural. He talks about his favorite restaurants, his travels, and how he’s surprisingly fond of quiet nights. You find yourself opening up more than you intended, sharing stories about your childhood, what drives you, what you love most about your work. He listens intently, his gaze never wavering, his attention fully on you. As if every word matters to him, every sentence is important.

It’s hard not to notice how his gaze shifts from playful to something more thoughtful as you speak, his eyes locking on yours with an unreadable emotion that makes your breath catch every time. You don’t want to admit it, but his attention feels like a constant pull on your thoughts, something that you can’t seem to escape.

When your meal arrives, the soft clink of silverware against the fine china is the only sound for a moment. You both pause, then Seungcheol leans back slightly, eyeing your plate with a mischievous grin. “You’re not going to finish that, are you?” he teases. “I’ll be happy to help.”

You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a playful glance. “I think I’ll manage just fine.”

The two of you laugh easily over the shared dish, the comfortable intimacy of it all settling around you like a familiar blanket. It’s rare to feel so at ease with someone in this kind of setting, but with Seungcheol, it’s effortless.

At some point during dessert, Seungcheol reaches across the table and gently runs his thumb along your hand. The motion is slow, deliberate, and for the first time, he’s not teasing. His touch is softer, and his eyes—god those eyes—hold a sincerity that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the room–in the whole world even.

“You know,” he murmurs, “I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.”

You hum, feeling a flutter deep in your chest. “So you’ve mentioned.”

After a moment you respond again, “I am too.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, the tension between you now wrapping around your mind and dulling the outside world. The soft clink of glasses, the quiet hum of the restaurant, the distant murmur of conversations... it all fades into the background.

Finally, after a long moment of simply looking at each other, Seungcheol stands and walks around to your side of the table, offering his hand. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice low but steady.

By the time you’re at the door to your apartment, the tension between the two of you is almost suffocating. You invite him inside, and Seungcheol takes a deep breath, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.”

And when you lean close to his ear and tell him then don’t, it’s like floodgates open. Seungcheol shuts the door behind him, crowding you against it as he leans close to you, hands finding your hips and breath warm against your ear. “Do you even know what you’ve been doing to me all night?” he asks, voice so low it's almost a growl.

You smile, hands trailing up his torso to wrap around his neck, “I guess I clean up well.”

Seungcheol chuckles darkly, experimentally squeezing your hips, “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty again.”

When he tilts your chin up to meet his lips, you expect the kiss to be hungry, as desperate as he has you feeling, instead Seungcheol kisses you slowly, tenderly with a sweetness rivaling ambrosia. Your arms wind themselves around his neck, pressing yourself harder against him as if even a second apart would be painful because, quite frankly, that’s how kissing him felt. He takes his time to savor each brush of your lips on his, each sigh that you breathe into his mouth.

Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. His pupils are blown out, hair messy with your hands in it and red lipstick smeared on his swollen lips. You’re sure you don’t look much different, as the two of you crash back together at the same time. This kiss is how you expected the first to be, hungry, desperate, and hard.

Even when your lungs burn for air your lips chase after him when he separates from you, pupils blown out, hair messy, your lipstick smeared across his mouth, Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined.

The only thing you can hear is breathlessness before you’re tangling your fingers into his hair to crash your lips together again. Seungcheol presses into even more, hands pushing against your door as he intoxicates you once more. The kiss isn’t soft this time, lust taking over and pulling the two of you into each other. His hand moves to your jaw, switching the angle and taking away any last bit of brain function you have because even when kissing you with such passion Seungcheol still isn’t rough with you. He kisses you with a confidence and control that has you whimpering into his lips.

The sound clearly affects him, his tongue prodding at your lips and a small breath leaving him when you open your mouth further. He starts exploring your mouth as his hands move to explore your body, sliding up and down your waist to your thighs, where he squeezes before lifting you up seemingly effortlessly.

“Your room?” Seungcheol murmurs into your mouth. You break apart from him once again, hands on either side of his face, forehead resting against his. “Same layout as your apartment.” You recall, resuming the kiss once more as he carries you over to your bed, gently setting you down on the edge.

He drinks the breathy sound that leaves your mouth when his fingers find the zipper on your back, slowly drawing it down and caressing each new plane of skin revealed to him. You lift your hips, helping him get the dress fully off your body and thrown somewhere on the floor. You try to pull him in closer to you but Seungcheol is frozen. You wiggle impatiently and he just shakes his head at you, a breathy laugh leaving his kiss swollen lips.

“Be patient baby, let me appreciate you, fuck.” The last word comes from a deep place in his chest, an almost guttural sound as his hands gently trace up your legs, hips, waist, settling just below your dark red lace bra that matches your now discarded dress. He looks at you with an awe equal to that of meeting a deity, as if he’d never seen anything more captivating and never will in this lifetime. His gaze makes you flush because you’re just you, sure you put on a pretty matching set but even then you didn’t think he’d be this into it. You apparently verbalize your thoughts unintentionally because Seungcheol looks up at you once more, this time gaze filled with disbelief.

“Just you? Just you? God, you really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you, princess?” The nickname causes a shiver to go down your spine, his hands gently as they move behind you, unclipping your bra. “So perfect, so pretty for me.” His words are accompanied by his hands slowly massaging your now bare chest before he dives into you, mouth ravishing every inch on your skin as he pulls sounds from you. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging when he nips at your skin. After thoroughly stealing your breath his lips start making their way down to where you need him most. His nose presses against your core causing an embarrassingly depraved whimper to leave you.

“Fuck princess, you’re so ready for me,” he says as he pulls your panties away from your body, holding them up for you to see the ruined fabric. You don’t have time to think about them as he starts to leave hot open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh before dipping his tongue ever so slightly into your weeping hole. Your hands tug slightly on his hair and seemingly break whatever resolve he has as he starts to devour you. He knows exactly when to slow down, licking your cunt up and sucking in ways that have your head spinning. Your insides clench around nothing, leaking arousal as his lips wrap around your clit. He drinks all of your juices, his tongue collecting your wetness like water.

When he focuses his tongue on your hole, prodding timidly inside you as your walls beg to be stretched, your hands tug harshly at his hair, making him moan right into your cunt, as if he’s enjoying the pull of his hair as you use him for your pleasure. Your orgasm approaches at the speed of light, quicker than you’d ever thought a man could pull from you.

You spasm with each swipe of his tongue that gets faster as he notices how close you are. When he decides to focus on teasing your clit, something snaps in you and you come undone on his tongue.

He practically makes out with your cunt, stretching out your orgasm and making your legs tremble at his sides. You can feel the big smirk across his lips through your pleasure-induced haze. He doesn’t move away even when you start to feel over stimulated, you tug on his hair.

“You can give me one more, right princess?” He looks like something straight out of a porno, mouth covered in you, hair messy between your fingers, how could you possibly resist such a sight, especially when his finger runs up and down your entrance teasingly.

“Please” is all you have to say before he disappears once more between your legs. His fingers start to stretch out your walls, tongue lapping up any juices that escape. The pounding of his fingers inside you drag you close to the edge faster than before, and when his fingers graze one spot you’re seeing stars.

“There, right there fuck Cheol please–” your words get cut off by a breathy moan as he sucks on your clit, vision going blurry as you come on his fingers. When you’re coming down from the high, you watch as he takes said fingers and licks them clean with a groan, “You might just be my new favorite meal, princess.”

Your eyes roll at the comments as you shakily climb to your knees, earning a raised eyebrow from Cheol as you grab his shirt to pull him towards you, “You’re looking way too clothed to be saying that right now.” You mutter, making quick work of his buttons. His laugh turns into a groan when you press a kiss to his neck, sliding his shirt off of him and running your hands across the expanse of his torso. His muscles are firm and defined, and you don’t resist the urge to bend over and softly bite his chest, reveling in the choked sound he makes. His hands grab your head, pulling you into a wet kiss as you pull at his pants and boxers, sliding them down his legs to free his hard cock. As you look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, long, thick, deliciously curved, this man will be the end of you.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips. A whimper escapes you, and Seungcheol hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, princess. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he thrusts his hips up, causing your movements to stutter as you gag. “You can take a bit more, yeah?” his question ends with a groan, his fingers tightening on your hair.

You lower your head further in response, taking in another more of him. His hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair.

“Fuck, just like that baby, want you to choke on it,” his voice is gravely and low, the sound going straight to your core. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and your eyes start to water. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure.

“Fuck my throat,” you beg ask, “Please”

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips as he guides himself into your mouth, smirking at how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

You whimper around him, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. Suddenly he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with a sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. He crashes his lips to yours in response before pulling away suddenly.

His eyes widen as he looks around, suddenly looking frantic, “Shit, condoms. Stay here, I’ll quickly get dressed and run to my–”

“Are you clean?”

Seungcheol’s eyes go wide at your suggestion before slowly nodding, “I got tested last month, you’re not suggesting…” His voice trails off.

Have you ever let anyone hit it raw? Absolutely not. Did you have the patience for him to go to his apartment and grab condoms? Also absolutely not.

“I’m on birth control, clean, and way too fucking horny for you to be anywhere except inside me.” You state blankly. He shakes his head in astonishment before climbing on top of you, kissing you once more.

“God, you’re perfect.” he sighs, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks at you one more time for approval. “Ready?”

“Please— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head slides inside you, eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. He barely pulls out before fucking into you with a little more force. “Shit, you’re so tight, fuck.”

“Cheol please,” you gasp, not quite sure what you're asking for when you latch onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. You’ve never felt this full in your life as Seungcheol waits for you to adjust, pussy spasming around him in ways that make his eyes roll back. When you give him the okay he pulls out slowly, so you can feel every vein as it drags on your walls before he fucks back into you.

His pace starts to get faster and the sounds from both of you sound straight from a porno, but you don’t care because all you can think about is how good his dick feels inside you, how full you feel. From this position, you can see the way his face contorts in pleasure, brows furrowed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips and sucks hard. “Fuck princess, you’re so perfect shit– pretty pussy made for me, huh?”

“For you,” you pant, thoughts reduced to just the feeling of him inside you. “All for you Cheol.”

His mouth curves into a soft smile as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Seugcheol’s hand slides down to grasp your hip, squeezing the soft skin and pulling you harder against him, impossibly closer.

“You’re perfect princess, my perfect pretty baby,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he repeats, more to himself than to you, voice strained as he tries to hold himself back, chasing your release before his own.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening, and you’re sure you look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, but the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Cheol, I’m—”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you baby, let go for me. I’ll take care of you,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall (thank god his room is the only one next to yours). Your body obeys him, a gast tearing through you as you moan Seungcheols name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, his expression as wrecked as you feel. “Tell me where—.”

“Inside.”

“Shit, are you sure?”

“Fill me up Cheol, please. Want it so bad.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. He buries himself inside you, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls. He ruts against you, his body trembling against yours before he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently. You almost cry when he slips out of you, hating the feeling of being empty as he finds your bathroom and returns with a towel to clean you up, eventually lulling you to sleep.

—

The first thing you register when you wake up is warmth— you soft sheets tangled around your limbs, the lingering scent of cologne woven into the fabric. The second thing is weight, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek, an arm draped around your waist, fingers splayed possessively over your hip.

Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you’re disoriented. The golden morning light filters through the curtains, casting lazy patterns across the room, but it takes another second for reality to catch up.

Seungcheol.

His presence is unmistakable, the solid warmth of him anchoring you even before you tilt your head up to look at him. His face is relaxed in sleep, soft in a way you don’t think you’ve seen before. His lashes rest against his cheeks, lips slightly parted, one hand still gripping your waist as if unconsciously keeping you close .

You take a slow breath, careful not to wake him just yet, allowing yourself the luxury of watching him like this. The confidence he always carries, the sharp smirks and teasing remarks—none of it is present in this moment. Right now, he’s just Seungcheol.

Your fingers move instinctively, tracing the curve of his nose, the contour of his lips. His grip on your waist tightens slightly in response, and you hear the low, raspy sound of his voice.

“Mmm.” A deep inhale, then a groggy mumble. “It’s too early.”

You laugh softly, then for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the quiet of the morning stretching between you. His fingers skim along your spine absentmindedly, tracing patterns into your skin. It’s dangerously intimate, this kind of quiet closeness, and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to say something.

When he finally does, his voice is softer than before. “Did you sleep well?”

You nod against him. “Yeah. You?”

His thumb brushes over your hip, slow and deliberate. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”

There’s something unspoken in his words, something that lingers between the two of you, but neither of you address it. Not yet. Instead, you stay like this for a while longer, wrapped in each other. Eventually, though, reality has to creep back in. You sigh, shifting slightly. “We should probably get up.”

Seungcheol groans dramatically, pulling you tighter against him. “Or we could just stay like this.”

You laugh, pushing at his chest again, this time with more force. “You have things to do, and I—”

“—have to stay here and cuddle me,” he finishes smoothly, peeking one eye open again and giving you a peck on the lips. “Sounds like the perfect plan, right?”

You roll your eyes but don’t immediately pull away, allowing yourself one more stolen moment of peace before finally sitting up. Seungcheol watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded, filled with something you can’t quite name. Then, just as you’re about to move off the bed, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you.

You glance back at him, and his expression is unreadable for a beat before he smirks, tugging you down just enough to brush his lips against yours.

“Morning,” he murmurs, and it feels dangerously close to something more.

You swallow, the weight of the moment settling over you, but instead of overthinking it, you smile. “Morning.”

—

A week later you find yourself lying in the same bed, missing the man who had laid with you. The two of you haven’t seen each other since—your schedules never quite aligning—but the texts haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve only gotten more frequent and flirtatious.

Cheol: You avoiding me or just giving me time to miss you? You: Are those the only options? Cheol: Unless you’d rather admit you can’t stop thinking about me. You: You’re so full of yourself. Cheol: And you love it.

You hate how much you do love it.

You turn and nearly walk into two people standing in the hallway.

“Whoa—careful,” a deep voice says as a steady hand catches your elbow.

It’s Seungcheol. Of course, it’s Seungcheol. He’s standing in front of you, that familiar grin spreading across his face. Standing next to him is a man you instantly recognize—Wonwoo. His calm, sharp features are exactly as you remember, though he seems a little more refined since college. You school your expression, feigning polite curiosity.

“Hey,” you manage, adjusting your grip on the bag.

“Hey yourself,” Seungcheol says, his grin widening. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Uh, I live here,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden thumping in your chest.

Wonwoo clears his throat, glancing between the two of you. “Cheol, are you going to introduce me, or should I do it myself?”

“Right.” Seungcheol gestures toward him. “This is Wonwoo—friend, buddy, compadre, if you will, and frequent pain in my ass. Wonwoo, this is…” He pauses, “Her.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow but extends a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, ‘Her.’ Or, nice to see you again, I guess.”

You laugh, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you too. I’d remind you of my real name, but apparently Seungcheol forgot it.”

“Hardly, you’re the only thing he’s been talking about recently. You were friends with Kwan’, right? I think I crashed your study sessions a few times.”

The mention of Seungkwan brings a smile to your face, he’s now roommates with Jeonghan, even though he’s grown so much since you first met him the younger boy will always have a special place in your heart, “Yeah probably, he always had someone tagging along with him. That kid was a real social butterfly.” Wonwoo opens his mouth to respond but Seungcheol cuts him off.

“Yeah, great, glad you guys are close.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he studies you. ”Small world and such.”

Your stomach twists slightly, but you keep your expression neutral. “Yeah, crazy coincidence. It’s almost like we went to the same school.” you say sarcastically, “So, what games will you be playing today?”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you, “Who said anything about playing games?”

You swear your heart stops at that moment.

“Oh-uh,” Think, think, think, “Well the walls don’t do a very good job at masking your swearing at night, just assumed that’s what was going on.”

Wonwoo, ever the observant one, stays quiet, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—like he’s connecting dots that you’d rather he didn’t.

“Sure,” Seungcheol responds, still watching you closely. “Anyways, we should get going.”

You nod, stepping back toward your door. “Yeah, it was nice seeing you both. I should put these away before they melt.”

“Uh huh,” Seungcheol mutters, stepping aside. Wonwoo simply nods politely, his expression calm but unreadable.

Once inside your apartment, you set the groceries down with a sigh, your mind racing. You didn’t slip up that bad, right? At least you had covered your mistake pretty well? Still, there was something about the way Seungcheol looked at you– like he was trying to piece together a puzzle– that left a sinking feeling in your stomach.

—

Another few days pass before you hear from Seungcheol outside of the usual teasing texts. You’re curled up on your couch when your phone buzzes.

Cheol: So, are you going to keep eavesdropping through the walls, or are you finally going to come over and play?

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

You: Who says I want to play?

Cheol: You wound me. But fine, if you’re too scared to lose, I understand.

You: Oh, please. Like you could actually beat me at anything.

Cheol: Prove it. Tonight. My place.

You hesitate for a moment. It’s one thing to comment on him playing games, but actually playing with him? You can’t be sure you won’t slip up again. But then again, you can’t let him think you’re scared.

You: Fine. What time?

Cheol: 8. Wonwoo will be there. And a few others. Don’t be late.

You stare at your screen for a moment before shaking your head. There’s no way this is a good idea, but you’re already getting up to change.

—

At 8:03, you knock on Seungcheol’s door. He opens it almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you.

“You’re late,” he says, pouting slightly.

“It’s literally been three minutes, you big baby.”

“Three minutes too long.” He steps aside, letting you in. “Come on, the others are already here.”

His apartment is warm and filled with an easy kind of chaos. Wonwoo is lounging on the couch, a controller in hand, looking perfectly unbothered as he glances up at you. “She showed.”

“She did,” Seungcheol confirms, closing the door behind you.

At the other end of the room, four other guys are gathered, already deep into conversation. Seungcheol gestures toward them. “These are the guys. That’s Jihoon—" he points to the one sitting cross-legged on the floor, focused on a laptop. Jihoon barely glances up, offering only a short nod. “Vernon—” the boy next to Jihoon gives a small wave, expression relaxed. “Mingyu—” the tall one grins and throws an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder. “And Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung—who you recognize from random campus events back in college—immediately brightens. “Wait, I know you! You were friends with Seungkwan, right?”

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah, that was me.”

“Small world, huh?”

Seungcheol claps his hands together. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get down to business.”

“Games,” Mingyu supplies helpfully.

“Winning,” Seungcheol corrects, looking directly at you.

You raise an eyebrow. “You wish.”

He grins. “We’ll see.”

—

The first game is an intense round of Mario Kart, and to no one’s surprise, Wonwoo dominates. “You guys suck,” he mutters as he crosses the finish line first yet again (as if you and Seungcheol weren’t on his tail the whole time).

“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol says, waving a hand. “Let’s switch it up. How about teams?”

You find yourself paired with Jihoon, who simply shrugs. “You ready?”

You smirk. “Let’s kick some ass.”

“Hell yeah.”

The match starts, and it’s immediately clear that Seungcheol is more competitive than he let on. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of victory, and groans of defeat. Soonyoung nearly falls off the couch at one point, yelling dramatically when your car pulls ahead of him.

Through it all, you feel yourself relaxing, the nervous energy from earlier fading away. When you glance at Seungcheol, he’s already watching you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he grins again.

—

As the night stretches on, the games gradually give way to easy conversation and laughter, drinks appearing in everyone's hands. Mingyu pours shots for everyone, insisting on a toast to new friends, while Soonyoung—already a little tipsy—challenges Jihoon to a battle of wits (which mostly consists of Jihoon sighing heavily while Soonyoung rambles on).

You find yourself nestled into the couch, comfortably warm from the drinks, the buzz of conversation wrapping around you. Seungcheol drops down next to you, draping an arm along the back of the couch. “Having fun?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You let out a quiet laugh. “Guess you’re not as unbearable as I thought.”

“High praise.” He grins, taking a sip from his glass.

Eventually, the night winds down, one by one, the others heading out or claiming their spots to crash for the night. You stretch, standing up to grab your things. Seungcheol watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Need someone to walk you home?”

You raise an eyebrow, a huffed laugh leaving you. “What, for the whole two feet I need to walk?”

“Exactly,” he says, standing up and smirking. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in the five steps it takes to get there.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips as he walks you to your door anyways. As you turn the key to your apartment, you look back at him, maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, or maybe it’s the confidence from meeting his friends that has you leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips, “Goodnight, gamer boy.”

You realize your mistake the next morning, hoping he didn’t.

—

Still, life goes on, months pass by with you and Seungcheol seeing each other but never giving what you have a label. Your affection for the man starts to pile more by the day along with your guilt, feeling as if you’re betraying him with every brush of your skin on his. Tonight you’re curled up comfortably by his side, his TV playing some rom-com in the background as the two of you feast on fried chicken and soju, a perfect evening. You don’t know when your conversation became talking about your childhood, but you don’t care as Seungcheol tells you a story of the messes he got into with his older brother.

“You’ve always been a trouble-maker haven’t you?” you exclaim, kissing the tip of his nose. He giggles, humming in response and you admire the way it makes his face light up, warming your heart. Everything is so perfect, the way his arms wrap around you, the way the alcohol makes your brain slightly fuzzy. How he presses kisses all over your face as you laugh, finally getting a real kiss pressed to your lips as he lays you down on his couch. Sweet, gentle, and full of an emotion you don’t want to name. When he pulls back the same emotion fills his eyes.

“I really like you, you know?” he says shyly. You nod in response, smiling up at him. “We should make things official then, yeah?” You’re about to nod when the guilt you’ve been suppressing comes back stronger than ever, “I- I’m sorry.” You tell him. Before he can question you further, you stand up, rathering your stuff, “I’m really sorry Cheol.” You say once again before leaving his apartment, too drunk and too scared to face him.

The next day, as much as you try to avoid him, you run into Seungcheol in the hallway and he stops you. His teeth worry at his bottom lip, brow furrowed, “We need to talk about last night. Did I do something? I thought we– I thought things were going well but– just.. Tell me what I can do. Please?”

His words shatter any resolve you had to keep things from him.

“I know you stream.” the words fall from your mouth and make the man in front of you go ridged, “I mean, I’ve watched you a few times– more than a few– I found you a few months before you moved in and didn’t really know what to do.” You wring your hands together, too nervous to look him in the eye.

A few moments pass before he replies, “So what, you just planned on never telling me? Even after we started hanging out? After we… after everything?” His voice sounds defeated, broken. You shake your head but no sound comes out of your mouth. What could you say? Had you ever planned on telling him? You never knew things would get this far, if you did would you have told him sooner. You can feel Seungcheols heavy gaze on you, prompting you to speak, “I— I don’t know Cheol. I’m really sorry I just- I don’t know.”

He nods in response, and you can practically feel your heart drop, “Give me some time.” Is all he says before walking away, leaving you feeling empty.

Another week passes without a word from Seungcheol. Then another. Guilt is eating you from the inside, you don’t know what Seungcheol is thinking, if he’ll ever talk to you again. You can’t say you’d blame him if he didn’t. Once again at work you start slipping up, eventually Minghao decides that enough is enough.

“Spill, now.” He says when you take your usual seat across from him. You try to convince him to wait until Jeonghan arrives but he’s firm in his insistence.

“Tell me what's going on, from the beginning. No lies, no excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out on my own’ bullshit.” And so you do. You start from the beginning, Jeonghan's recommendation, the comfort it had brought you until your new neighbor appeared, the dates, the late-nights, the avoidance. You spill your guts out and Minghao listens. When you finish your tangent he just shakes his head.

“I know I’m an idiot Hao, but what was I supposed to do?” You defend yourself, from what exactly, you aren’t sure. Your throat starts to tighten and Minghao places his hand atop yours on the table, “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re overthinking it.” He talks the panic out of you like he has so many times before, guides your breathing and soothes your nerves.

“Just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean you can’t fix things.” His statement makes you laugh, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “Trust me, I’m sure you and your little gamer boy can work things out. Just tell him the truth, the same way you just told it to me.” You nod in response. The rest of the break the two of you talk like you always do, laughing and jabbing your coworkers as Minghao just rolls his eyes at you.

“Y/n?”

Your name from across the room breaks the comfortable bubble you’d been in with your friend. Seungcheol stands a few feet away from your table, betrayal evident in his eyes. You stand up to go towards him, but his scoff makes you stop in your tracks. He turns on his heel and walks out.

“What are you doing? Go after him, dumbass.” Broken out of your trance you hurry out the door, ignoring how the cold wind bites at your skin, your jacket left behind you. Seungcheol’s back is towards you as you chase after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face you.

“Wait a second, I-”

You’re cut off when he yanks his arm from your grip. Your chest aches when you see the look in his eyes. It’s unfamiliar, the face of the man you once found comfort in contorted into something else, something that scared you.

“Don’t start with me Y/n,” his tone is harsh, cutting through the cold air straight into your chest, “I trusted you, you know that? I really trusted you, I thought- it doesn’t even matter because you turned out to be the same as everyone else. This is all, what, some sort of twisted game? You wanted to get into my life and have a piece of me like every other crazy bitch that watches me, right? Well congradu-fucking-lations, you win. Your sick game is over now.” His eyes looked at you, filled with anger, betrayal, hatred, “And to think, after I started to believe that maybe, just maybe you had a reason to lie to me, that you actually cared about me, I see you with another guy. You can’t even go one week without finding a new boy-toy to play with, can you? You’re just another attention-seeking whore.”

His words hit you like a slap in the face. Here you are, freezing your ass off to try and explain yourself all for what? Finally all the emotions that have been boiling under the surface start to bubble over, “Excuse me?” Your voice comes out dangerously calm, seemingly stopping Seungcheol’s next sentence.

“First of all,” you clarify, “you’re the one who moved in next to me, let's not get things twisted. And yeah, I didn’t tell you I knew who you were, you wanna know why? Because the first time I saw you it looked like you were about to have a nervous breakdown because I recognized you. Of fucking course I said I knew you from college, I wasn’t about to make you more uncomfortable than you already were! I haven’t watched a single video since that day out of respect for you and your privacy. You are the one who kept talking to me, you are the one who asked me out, you are the one who kept doing things that would make it impossible for me to not start falling for you. A whore? I’ve been so worried about you that I make stupid mistakes in the simplest fucking tasks at work and my coworkers started to get worried, my friends started to get worried. So I finally tell them what's going on and when they convince me to come clean and explain everything to you, you decide to jump to conclusions. You can say whatever you want, Choi Seungcheol, but don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t care about you.” Hot tears stream down your face, but you don’t care, the words come pouring out from you, and you watch as Seungcheols expression morphs from anger, looking away before you can see what it turns into. His hand reaches out for yours but you pull away, not looking at him because you know if you do it’ll change your mind. “I hope you can find an attention-seeking whore to play with Seungcheol because I can’t do this. Not anymore.”

When you return to the cafe, Minghao doesn’t scold you for letting your emotions control you, offering instead to cover for you so you could go home but you refuse. Because what is home, you think, without Seungcheol.

You stay at Jeonghans for the next few days, calling out sick from work to instead watch dramas with Seungkwan. He doesn’t question your sudden appearance, nor the tears that fall whenever the drama leads would interact, which you’re thankful for. He gives you a steady shoulder to cry on and a reliable source of laughter to cheer you up. The two of you are currently huddled under a blanket, watching as Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams run towards each other in the rain. Your hands are holding his tightly under the blanket as you both squeal when they kiss. When the movie ends tears stream down both of your faces and Seungkwan bumps your shoulder lightly, “Whatever you’re going through must be serious, you never cry during The Notebook.”

You roll your eyes at his statement, laughing along with him as you turn the T.V. off. He turns to face you, suddenly serious and you know what's coming.

“You’re not kicking me out, are you?” The smile accompanying your joke doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and Seungkwan notices with a sigh.

“You know I would never, but you also know you can’t avoid going back forever. Eventually you’ll need to go back to your apartment.” He gives a pointed look at your too-big hoodie and sweats courtesy of Jeonghan. “Listen Y/n, you know I love you but–”

“I know Kwan’, I know. I’m just scared. Even if I know you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready to face him yet.” You cut him off, tears welling in your eyes once more. Seungkwan clasps your hands in his.

“Remember my senior year when I had a mental breakdown and called you at ass-O’-clock in the morning?” You nod, the memory vague but there. He continues, “I went over to your house and told you I was scared, that suddenly everything felt so real with job applications, interviews, and graduation getting closer. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t ready to be an adult yet and suddenly life was being shoved in my face and I didn’t know how to cope. Do you remember what you said to me?” A small smile forms on your face among the tears, Seungkwan giving you a reassuring one in response.

“There are some things you’ll never be ready for, but the clock still ticks and the Earth still spins, no matter how terrified you are. You just have to do it scared.”

You recite the words with him, words your parents had told you when you were eighteen and unprepared for college life, words you lived by since then, that had gotten you through your darkest times and happiest moments. Words that you had somehow lost in the chaos of adulting.

You wipe your face on your sleeve, small laughs replacing your sobs as you look at your lap, “Thanks Kwan.”

You don’t need to say anything else, he knows, like he always does. Like all of your friends always do because at the end of the day no matter how tough things get you will always have an amazing support system full of amazing friends. No man could change that, no amount of distance could break the bond your little entourage have. Because they, you realize, are home.

Seungkwan wraps you in a warm embrace as you tear up some more, not sad this time. The two of you rock back and forth for a while before pulling away and making eye contact.

“Tomorrow?”

“Can’t we wait until the weekend?”

“Fine, you stubborn pain in the ass. Saturday. Morning.”

You groan in response but don’t bother to hide the smile on your lips.

—

Saturday morning comes faster than you’d like. The moment your eyes flutter open, reality crashes into you like a wave, heavy and unrelenting. For a fleeting moment, you consider burying yourself deeper into the blankets, pretending that you could stay in Jeonghan’s guest room forever. But Seungkwan’s words from the night before echo in your mind. You just have to do it scared.

With a deep breath, you push yourself out of bed. Jeonghan is already in the kitchen, sipping his coffee with an all-knowing smirk when you walk in. "So, today’s the big day, huh?"

You roll your eyes, reaching for the mug he’s already set out for you. “You act like I’m about to get married.”

“Considering the dramatics, it might as well be.”

You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. “Can you not?”

Jeonghan chuckles, patting the top of your head before walking away. “Just rip the bandaid off, Y/n. You’ll feel better once you do.”

You’re not sure about that, but you know he’s right.

By the time you reach your apartment complex, your heart is pounding so loudly that you can hear it in your ears. The familiar hallway feels foreign, your feet carrying you toward your door on autopilot. You turn the key in your apartment door, the familiar creak of the hinges sounding louder than usual in the quiet hallway. The space is just as you left it—dim, still, and eerily empty. It feels foreign, like you don’t quite belong here anymore. Maybe because, for the past few days, you didn’t. With a heavy sigh, you drop your bag by the door and toe off your shoes, making your way to the couch. The exhaustion from carrying the weight of everything settles into your bones. You lean back, eyes fluttering shut, trying to steady your breathing.

It takes a few days for you to settle back into your apartment. At first, everything feels too quiet. You find yourself reaching for your phone to text Seungcheol before remembering the way things ended. You distract yourself with work, with cleaning, with anything to keep your mind from wandering to the ache in your chest. But no matter how much you try to push it down, it lingers.

—

You haven’t seen him since that night. You don’t expect to. Instead you go back to how things had been before he moved in, ignoring the ache in your chest whenever you hear him through your thin apartment walls.

Some nights, you lie awake, staring at the photo you had taken with him on your first date, wishing to go back in time. You listen to the faint sounds of his life bleeding through the walls, wondering if he does the same, or if he threw the picture away all together. The murmur of his voice on the phone, the clink of dishes in the sink, the low hum of his TV. It’s almost cruel how easily he seems to slip back into routine while you feel like you’re unraveling. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you’ll get used to it. But the silence in your own apartment is deafening, and the space he left behind feels colder than it should.

You start wearing headphones more often. It helps, a little. Drowns out the ghost of his presence. Keeps you from wondering if he ever pauses, mid-conversation, mid-laugh, mid-breath, thinking about you. You don’t let yourself hope.

But late one night, when you’re standing at your sink rinsing out a mug, you hear it—your name. Soft, hesitant. Muffled by the wall but unmistakable. Your breath catches, fingers tightening around the ceramic. You wait, straining to hear more. A part of you wants to move closer, to press your ear against the wall, to pretend that he’s just on the other side, that nothing has changed. But then you hear footsteps, the creak of his door opening.

And then nothing.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You tell yourself it was nothing.

But you don’t wear your headphones that night.

—

The next morning, you wake up with the imprint of your phone against your cheek, the playlist you put on last night long finished. Your first thought is that you dreamed it—his voice, his hesitation. That your mind is just playing tricks on you because it wants so badly to believe he still thinks about you.

But then, as you move through your morning routine, you catch yourself hesitating near the front door. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the weight in your chest, the feeling of stepping into the world once again without him waiting to greet you. You push the feelings aside.

When you finally open the door, you nearly step on something– small and familiar, sitting right in the center of your doorstep.

Your scarf.

You freeze. Your fingers twitch at your sides.

The scarf you’d left at his place weeks ago, back when you still had a place there too. It’s neatly folded, like he took care with it, but there’s no note, no explanation. Just the scarf. You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the fabric as you pick it up. It still smells like his apartment, like the faint trace of his cologne, like something that used to feel like home.

You stand there too long, cold air slipping into your apartment through the open door, numbing your fingers, your face. Your mind races with all the possibilities—did he find it by accident? Did he mean to leave it for you himself? Did he hesitate, just like you are now?

You don’t know what to do with it.

So you do what you always do—you tuck it away, shove it into the depths of your closet like you can bury the feelings that come with it.

But that night, when you curl into bed, your hand drifts toward the closet door. Before you can stop yourself, you pull the scarf back out. Hold it in your lap. Press it between your fingers. Like maybe, if you close your eyes, you can pretend—for just a little while—that you never had lied to him in the first place.

—

The scarf stays on your nightstand after that. You don’t wear it. You don’t even move it. But you don’t put it back in the closet, either.

It’s stupid, you tell yourself. It’s just fabric. Just something that happened to be left behind. He probably didn’t think twice about it. He was just returning something that wasn’t his, nothing more.

You keep going to work, settling disputes with coworkers who seem to have nothing better to do than fight (you ignore the way you almost reach for your phone to listen to Seungcheols voice as you work).

You keep meeting Jeonghan and Minghao on Wednesdays, occasionally Seungkwan joins the three of you (you ignore the way they glance at you with pity).

Everything is where it’s supposed to be (you ignore how everything you do feels like it’s missing something).

It’s late, and you’re lying in bed, not really asleep, not really awake. The walls between your apartments have always been thin—thin enough that sometimes you can catch pieces of his voice, low and tired, when he’s on the phone late at night.

But this time, there’s no conversation. Just footsteps. The sound of a drawer opening, then closing. A pause. And then, so quiet you almost miss it—your name.

Your stomach twists.

You tell yourself it was just in your imagination, don’t let yourself dwell on why he might have said that because he didn’t (you ignore how you know that’s a lie).

The next morning, you wake up feeling like you never really slept at all. Your body is heavy, your mind clouded with something you don’t want to name. You go about your day like normal—like nothing happened. Like you didn’t hear him say your name. Like it didn’t send a crack through the carefully constructed distance you’ve been trying to build.

But it lingers.

You don’t mean to, but you start listening to him more. Not on purpose—at least, that’s what you tell yourself—but your ears tune in anyway. You notice the little things: the way he moves around his apartment, the late nights he stays up, the mornings he leaves just a little later than he used to.

And then one evening, when you step out of your apartment to grab something from the corner store, you nearly run into him.

You freeze.

So does he.

For a moment, neither of you speak. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well either. Like maybe he’s been feeling the same weight pressing down on him. Your throat is tight. You should say something. You should walk away.

But then his gaze flickers, just briefly, to your door. To you.

When he starts to turn around Seungkwan’s reminder rings in your head.

Do it scared.

And before you can stop yourself, before you can think better of it, his name slips past your lips, “Seungcheol.”

His breath catches.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, “We should talk.”

Seungcheol freezes, hand hovering above his door knob for a second before dropping to his side. When he looks up at you his eyes are full of so many emotions it makes your heart ache; shame, regret, hurt, hesitation. It almost makes you change your mind, but then you see it, the tiniest sliver of hope behind his gaze, that helps you keep going, inviting him into your apartment. He hesitates before entering, you walk in after him, closing the door.

Seungcheol doesn’t sit, so you don’t either. Instead, you stand near the couch, gripping your hands together to keep them from shaking. It’s silent for a moment, you aren’t used to his presence anymore.

“I meant what I said before,” you begin hesitantly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

His gaze flickers with something unreadable. He responds softly, voice sounding almost broken, “Then why didn’t you just tell me?”

You exhale, the numbed frustration and regret rising again in your chest. “At first I thought it wasn’t important, you were just my neighbor, and you looked nervous when we first met so I figured you’d rather stay anonymous. But then we started to get to know each other and suddenly I was keeping a huge secret and I didn’t know what to do. I-,” You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and stop your rambling, “I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin whatever this was—whatever we were. I thought if I told you the truth, you’d push me away.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Looks like I managed to do that anyway.”

Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “You should’ve given me the chance to decide how I felt about it instead of lying to me.”

You nod slowly, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “I know,” you whisper. “I should’ve told you the truth. I should have done so many things differently, but I didn’t, and I hurt you.” You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though it makes your stomach twist. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Seungcheol looks at you, nodding, “Me too. For what I said.”

“Don’t worry, I get it, you had every right to be mad.” You protest.

He flinches, shaking his head. “Not like that.” His hands ball into fists at his sides before he sighs, running one through his hair. “Yeah, you should have told me. And yeah, it hurt. But what I said to you?” His jaw clenches. “That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that.” His voice is thick with guilt, his brows furrowed in frustration—at himself, not at you as he looks away. “Did you- when we would be together who were you thinking of?”

You tilt your head in confusion, so he elaborates, “I guess what I’m asking is if you just thought of me as S.coups, if you thought it was just another game.” When he meets your gaze once more it’s as if all the confidence was drained from him, he looked unsure, raw vulnerability in the way he bites his lip and wrings his hands together.

“It was never a game, not for me at least. To me you’ve always been Seungcheol, even when you first moved in, I didn’t really think about your job other than being worried that I would make you uncomfortable by knowing. Even when I’d watch you play, when you were having fun you were Seungcheol playing games like you used to during class. On days you didn’t seem as into it you were Seungcheol doing your job.”

You hear Seungcheol inhale sharply as you continue, “Back then and now you mean so much to me, I never meant to hurt you, but I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me just because I apologized. If you still hate me that fi–”

You’re cut off by lips on yours, gentle and nervous until you kiss back. After so long it feels like the world finally clicks into place, a hand sliding into yours gently as your tears mix with his.

When you separate Seungcheol’s hand grips yours tightly, eyes still closed as if he’s scared you’ll be gone when he opens them. “I don’t hate you, Y/n.” His voice is softer now, barely a whisper. “I never did.” This time you lean into him, pressing your lips together once more. His free hand moves to cradle your face, yours lightly gripping the front of his shirt. Muttered ‘I missed you’s are scattered between kisses as you make your way to the couch, placing yourself on Seungcheol’s lap when he sits. Neither of you can help the tears on your faces.

After who-knows-how-long you’re still in Seungcheol’s embrace, his strong arms wrapped around you, drawing slow patterns on your back as the two of you sway back and forth gently. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a quiet rhythm that makes you feel like you can finally breathe easy. You don’t know how long you sit there, tangled together on your couch, his arms around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. Maybe he is. Maybe you are too.

“Thank you. For coming back.” Seungcheol murmurs into your hair. His voice is soft, careful, like he’s afraid of saying too much, of pushing too hard.

You shift slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes are still damp, lashes clumped together, and the sight of it twists something in your chest. “Always,” you whisper. “I’ll be here as long as you still want me.”

His breath shudders as he exhales. “I do.” He presses his forehead against yours, voice thick with emotion. “Always did, always will.”

You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth of him, the weight of his hands resting at your waist, grounding you. “No more hiding. No more running.” you say softly.

Seungcheol nods, his grip tightening like he’s holding onto something fragile. “No more running,” he agrees. For a while, neither of you speak. You just exist in the quiet, in the warmth of each other, letting the weight of everything settle. Eventually, Seungcheol chuckles, breath fanning against your cheek. “I don’t want to move,” he admits.

You smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Then don’t.”

His lips twitch into a grin. “You’ll let me stay?”

You pretend to consider it, tilting your head. “Depends. Are you planning on stealing all the blankets again?”

Seungcheol laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin. “No promises.”

You sigh dramatically. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”

His arms tighten around you, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can let go just yet.”

Neither do you.

—

“You ready to lose again?” Seungcheol asks, raising an eyebrow, the usual playful confidence in his voice.

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “In your dreams, Cheol.”

It’s silly, how normal it is, how easy it was to slip into the rhythm of this again. Your friends around you in his apartment, all laughing and having fun.

"Hoshi, I’m going to kick your ass!" Seungkwan yells from across the room, his voice high-pitched with mock frustration.

"You've got a lot of nerve talking, considering you're in last place," Soonyoung teases back, his grin wide and infectious.

"I can’t believe we’re playing this game again," Mingyu groans dramatically, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself despite the complaints.

"You’re just mad because I hit you with a shell. Like this," Jihoon shoots another shell at Mingyu’s cart, the corner of his lips curving upward as he hears Mingyu’s swears.

Seungcheol laughs, his usual confidence shining through as he skillfully handles his character. Every now and then, his hand would brush yours, and in those moments, it felt like time had slowed just enough for you to savor the simple joy of being surrounded by friends—by family.

"You’re about to lose!" Jeonghan said, voice full of amusement as he leaned over to look at the screen.

Seungcheol shot him a mock glare. "You’re not even playing."

But despite the teasing, the tension was long gone. No more waiting for the right moment to speak, no more hiding. It isn’t perfect—nothing ever is—but it's real. And that's enough.

You lean back against the couch, your head resting against Seungcheol’s shoulder as you pull into fourth place with a groan.

Seungcheol leans in, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “So, when do you plan on winning?” he teases, his grin wider than before.

You glare at him, but the corners of your mouth betray you, lifting into a smile you can’t fight. “I’ll win when I’m good and ready, it’s not my fault my boyfriend is a professional.” you reply, your voice playful as you pout at the man in front of you. He laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, “Boyfriend, huh? You’re trying to use my weaknesses against me aren’t you?” You look up at him with the best innocent face you can manage, “That depends, my dear, is it working?”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, get a room, you two.” Seungkwan’s complaints cause a wave of laughter as Seungcheol just pulls you closer into his side, sticking his tongue out at the younger boy. The teasing continues for a while longer, but you can feel how the warmth in the room isn’t just coming from the shared space or the game. It’s the laughter, the familiarity, and that makes a smile spread onto your lips. No distance, no walls. Just warmth, joy, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. People who you knew would be by your side through thick and thin because the clocks still tick and the Earth still spins, time moves forward with them by your side to move with it.

A/N: Wooo she’s finally done!! Thx @orngejuic for being my beta reader ilysm.

#seventeen #svt #choi seungcheol #seventeen seungcheol #svt imagines #svt x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #angst #seungcheol angst #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol imagines #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan

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pretzel-box · 3 months ago

Text

Ride or Die

Streamer AU Chapter 9 (?)

Tags: Fluff, Romance, Date, Reader is shorter than Seb in this one.

Words: 4k

Authors Note: Final Chapter drops around Wednesday. Painters Route will be discontinued due the lack of interest from the readers side and the authors side. Materlist will update once all chapters are out.

The sound of the front door creaking open caught your attention, pulling you from the pages of your book during this late afternoon. You quickly glanced up just in time to see Sebastian step through the threshold, his presence immediately filling the room with a quiet, effortless confidence. His black hair was tied back neatly, though a few locks had rebelliously slipped free to frame his face. His usual black leather jacket clung to his broad shoulders, hiding his favourite band shirt, and he set down his sleek black helmet. You noticed many details on him, now that your head was free of worries. He seems more laid back, returning to his old habits. His face seems softer, his hair was getting longer and somehow the faint gleam of his ear piercings in the light caught your eyes.

Without saying a word, he held up a white takeout bag, giving you one of his charming smiles, his bright eyes glinting with mischief. You could already smell the delicious food inside, but before you could ask him anything, he turned and headed toward the kitchen, the bag swinging from his hand.

Curiosity immediately got the better of you. Tossing your book aside, already forgetting about the interesting plot, you jumped up from the couch and followed him, trying to catch a quick glimpse of what he'd brought. „What did you get?“ You asked playfully, reaching out to take a peek inside the bag. But Sebastian, ever quick, lifted the bag higher, well out of your reach. You tried again, hopping slightly to grab it, but he just smirked, holding it teasingly above you.

„Sebastian!“ You protested, laughing, stretching your arms higher to reach the bag and yet he only raised an eyebrow at your failed try. His smile widening as he watched you struggle in front of him, clearly enjoying the little game. Just as you thought you might get close, his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You wanted to protest and speak out but before you could react, his lips were on yours, firm and gentle at the same time, slightly tasting of cherry coke, stealing your breath away.

Your hands, which had been reaching for the takeout, slid slowly to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your fingers. His scent—leather mixed with something darker and warm, maybe a hint of cologne—filled the air between you, grounding you in his embrace. Your fingers curled instinctively, holding onto his favorite shirt as if you could draw him even closer, deepening the kiss with a tenderness that felt as natural as breathing.

His hand, still wrapped around your waist, tightened slightly, pulling you flush against him. His other hand came up to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. Everything around you faded—the hum of the fridge, the soft glow of the kitchen light, the faint buzz of city sounds outside. For a moment, it was just him, the warmth of his touch, and the way his lips molded to yours as if they’d always belonged there.

When he finally pulled back, you saw a playful glint in his eyes, tempered by an unmistakable affection. “I have to kidnap you today, Jel.” He murmured, his voice low and soft, sending a shiver through you. The familiar nickname from your streaming account felt strangely intimate on his lips, like a bridge between the life you shared online and the one you’d carefully built together in real life. He paused, his mouth close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. “But for now, get the TV ready, our favorite show starts soon.”

You blinked, a little dazed, as his words registered. The idea of him “kidnapping” you, though a surprise, sparked a warmth in your chest. He hadn’t mentioned any plans for today, and the spontaneity felt exhilarating, like a break from the everyday routine you’d fallen into. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind, from your return to the streaming scene to the careful, cautious steps you’d taken toward becoming something more than just roommates.

You took a moment, eyes drifting over his relaxed, unguarded expression. So much had shifted between you. What once felt distant had evolved into something soft and grounded, and every look, every touch had become a quiet confirmation of what you both wanted. You felt grateful for these small, stolen moments in between everything else.

“Okay, but this time don't give me chopsticks.” You teased, shooting him a smile as you stepped back to grab the remote. As you started setting up the TV, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of anticipation for whatever he had planned.

The late afternoon had melted into the kind of cozy haze that only shared laughter, easy conversation, and warm food could create. With takeout boxes scattered across the coffee table and the last of your favorite show playing in the background, you found yourself leaning against Sebastian, feeling the warmth of his arm draped casually over your shoulders. Each laugh, each shared smile, felt like a little piece of something you’d both built together. As the credits finally rolled, you felt his hand slip over yours, warm and grounding. He gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a slow, thoughtful way.

When you glanced up, he was already looking at you, his dark eyes soft yet brimming with that familiar glint of mischief. He leaned in, close enough that his voice was a warm murmur against your skin. “Ready for that kidnapping?”

The words sent a spark of excitement through you, and you found yourself nodding before he even finished. Sebastian disappeared into his room and returned with a spare helmet, which he slipped into your hands. Before you knew it, you were seated behind him on his motorbike, holding on tight as he revved the engine and the city lights blurred into life around you.

The cool air rushed past as the motorbike glided through the streets. Neon lights reflected off sleek buildings and glinted in windows, casting streaks of color across the dark pavement. You felt the thrum of the engine beneath you, the steady rhythm of Sebastian’s breathing in front of you, and the familiar warmth of his back as you held on tight, your arms wrapped securely around his waist. The sights and sounds of the city swept by, creating a vivid, living backdrop that felt like something out of a movie.

Each twist and turn of the road brought you deeper into the vibrant heart of the city. You caught glimpses of street musicians, food vendors, and groups of people laughing as they passed under colorful lights. For a moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the steady beat of the engine, the wind tugging gently at your hair, and the sensation of Sebastian’s hand covering yours for a brief, grounding squeeze as he paused at a stoplight.

Finally, he pulled up in front of a retro-style building framed by bright neon signs and softly flickering lights. The arcade was buzzing with life and energy even before you stepped inside. Rows of games stretched across the room, casting a warm, nostalgic glow that spilled out onto the sidewalk. When you hopped off the bike, you laughed, realizing just how much he’d surprised you.

“An arcade?” you teased, glancing over at him with a grin. “You really know how to impress.”

“Nothing but the best.” He replied with a smirk, his gaze softening just slightly as he took in your reaction. “Come on, I have a few rounds to win,” he teased, and his hand found yours, leading you into the neon-lit world of the arcade.

Inside, the place was alive with a retro energy that brought a rush of excitement. The hum of machines, bursts of laughter, and classic 8-bit tunes filled the air, immersing you in a world far removed from the everyday. Sebastian wasted no time, his eyes scanning the rows of games until he landed on one he seemed particularly excited about. Grinning, he led you to a classic racing game, two side-by-side seats waiting for you both. He slid into his, already poised at the controls, and turned to flash you a grin, one eyebrow arched with challenge. “Think you can keep up?”

“Oh, you’re on.” You shot back, slipping into the seat next to him and gripping the wheel with determination. As the countdown began on screen, you cast him a quick, confident smile. But just as the race started, he leaned over, nudging you lightly to throw you off balance. You shot him a playful glare as you swerved back into place, determined not to let him get ahead.

Laughter and excitement filled each round as you both fought for the top spot, your cars swerving and crashing in friendly competition. Each time one of you took the lead, the other would find a way to sabotage it—Sebastian reaching over to tap at your controls or you nudging his elbow just enough to throw off his focus. By the end, the race was almost neck and neck, the screen displaying your car mere inches ahead of his. You threw your hands up in victory, grinning wide.

“Luck.” He muttered with a mock pout, trying to hide a smile. But his eyes gleamed with amusement, and he quickly recovered, pointing to a game across the room.

“Alright, rematch. Air hockey this time.” He challenged, guiding you over to the table. The machine lit up as you each took your positions, hands hovering above the smooth plastic surface. You tapped the puck lightly, sending it Sebastian’s way with a smirk.

His expression shifted, his eyes narrowing with a glint of competitive fire, as he struck the puck with a swift, practiced move that sent it whizzing toward your goal. You reacted in an instant, blocking it with a quick flick of your wrist, and hit it back with equal speed, smirking as it glided right toward his side of the table. The game settled into a fast rhythm, each of you predicting and countering the other’s moves, laughter punctuating each near-miss and each score.

As the puck zipped back and forth, your intensity only grew, and every time one of you scored, the other would make a grand show of defeat—groaning dramatically, pressing a hand to their chest, or offering a bow as if this were some grand tournament. Sebastian even threw in a few theatrical moves, flourishing an imaginary cape whenever he blocked one of your shots, leaving you giggling too hard to focus.

“Come on.” He taunted with a smirk, leaning in slightly as he prepared to strike. “Is that all you’ve got, Jelly?” It was clear that his inner streaming persona was showing and it felt like all the times before, when it was just two streamers joking around behind cameras.

“Oh, it’s on!” you shot back, grinning as you managed to block his next attempt and return the puck with a surprising spin. He blinked in mock surprise, then let out an exaggerated groan as it slipped past him, right into the goal.

The longer you played, the less you cared about the score. It became more about outsmarting each other, your laughter filling the air each time one of you pulled an unexpected move. When he managed a particularly clever shot, he flashed you a triumphant grin, winking just to see your feigned irritation. And when you’d score, he’d pretend to be absolutely stunned, holding a hand over his heart as if in shock.

After several rounds, you were both breathless, barely able to keep count of who had won or lost. Your cheeks ached from smiling, your voice hoarse from laughing. The air around you felt charged, the world beyond the arcade blurred into the background as you both lingered in the glow of the night.

Finally, you both leaned against the air hockey table, catching your breath, sharing a laugh that seemed to echo through the room, filling it with warmth and familiarity. You looked over at him, still grinning, and he met your gaze with that familiar glint, his own face flushed with excitement.

Finally, he led you to the claw machine, his eyes gleaming with playful determination. “Watch and learn.” He declared with a smirk, slipping a few coins into the slot. His fingers rested confidently on the controls as he focused on a small, round cat plush tucked among the pile. He maneuvered the claw with impressive precision, eyes narrowing as it hovered above the plush, then descended with a smooth, practiced grip. For a heart-stopping moment, it clamped onto the toy and lifted it an inch—only for the claw to loosen at the last second, sending the plush tumbling back into the heap.

Sebastian sighed, tossing a mock-pained look your way, as if devastated. “It’s rigged, obviously.” He deadpanned, and you stifled a laugh at his exaggerated frustration.

“You almost had it.” You teased, reaching over to nudge him. He raised an eyebrow, casting a skeptical glance at the machine, and gestured for you to give it a shot. “Alright, let’s see the pro at work.” He said, his tone laced with playful doubt.

You stepped up, taking the controls with a concentrated look, and fed in another coin. The claw moved tentatively at first, and on the first two tries, it dropped the plush in the exact same spot. But on your third attempt, you took a deep breath, aimed carefully, and held your breath as the claw descended. It caught the plush firmly, lifting it with just enough steadiness to bring it over the prize bin. The plush landed with a satisfying thud, and you let out a triumphant cheer, turning to see Sebastian’s face light up in genuine surprise.

“Victory!” you exclaimed, holding the round cat plush high with a grin. He broke into a wide smile, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause, his gaze softening as he watched you clutch the plush to your chest.

Sebastian stepped closer, his smile shifting to something more tender as he looked down at you holding your prize. The playful energy that had been bubbling between you both all evening softened, replaced by a quiet, lingering warmth. He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingertips lingering just slightly against your cheek.

“Not bad.” He murmured, his voice softer now, his eyes holding yours with a gaze that seemed to melt right through the sounds of the arcade around you.

In that quiet moment, with the flashing lights casting soft hues across his face and the round little plush snug in your hands, you felt the whole world narrow to just the two of you, standing close in the heart of the city’s vibrant night.

As you and Sebastian stepped out of the arcade, the evening air wrapped around you like a cozy blanket, refreshing yet pleasantly warm. The sky had deepened into a rich indigo, dotted with twinkling stars, while the city around you glowed with a kaleidoscope of lights—neon signs, street lamps, and the soft glimmer of windows reflecting the night.

Sebastian paused for a moment, looking out over the bustling street, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Hey.” He said, glancing back at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “How about a little stroll instead of heading straight back?”You blinked in surprise, a smile blooming on your face. “Really? You’re not taking me back to the bike?”

“Nope.” He replied with a charming grin. “Trust me, I have a plan.”

Curiosity piqued, you nodded, and he gently took your hand, leading you away from the arcade. The two of you wandered through the lively streets, the sounds of laughter and chatter surrounding you as you passed by outdoor cafés and little shops still open for the night. Every so often, he’d glance over at you, his expression warm and genuine, making your heart flutter.

As you walked, you could feel the energy of the city buzzing around you, but everything else faded into the background as you focused on him. The air was fragrant with the scent of street food, mingling with the crispness of the evening. Sebastian occasionally pointed out quirky little shops or interesting street performers, drawing you into the moment with his playful enthusiasm.

He led you down a quieter street, lined with trees that were strung with fairy lights, creating a magical canopy overhead. The lights flickered softly, casting a warm glow that danced on the pavement, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder as you walked beneath them.

“You know,” he said, his voice softening, “I planned this for a long time.” He looked down at you, his expression earnest, and you felt your heart swell at the sincerity in his gaze.

“And you did well,” you admitted, your cheeks warming under his intense stare. “I had fun.”

“N-No, Jel.” His grip tightened around your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he took a deep breath. “I actually planned to take you out because it’s time to make it official.” A flicker of nervousness crossed his face, and you could see the vulnerability lurking beneath his confident exterior. His gaze fell to the ground, a quick flash of uncertainty hushed over his eyes. “I was terrible in the past. I was so incredibly blind, and I hate myself for it.”

You sensed the weight of his words, the gravity of what he was admitting. You didn’t want to interrupt; you wanted him to express everything he felt, to let the truth spill out unfiltered.

“And we are on the way to fixing things,” he continued, voice slightly shaking. “But I planned all of this to officially ask you out. You are so much more than a roommate or a streaming friend to me.” He paused, taking a moment to collect himself, the intensity of the moment building between you. “And I know we’re unofficially together, sharing all those touches and kisses, but... I want to hear it. I want you to accept my feelings openly with words.”

His large frame shifted to face you completely, his gaze lifting to meet yours, searching for something, and in that moment, everything around you seemed to fade away. Your heart raced as you held his steady gaze, the air thick with emotion and unspoken desires.

“Sebastian,” you breathed, feeling the weight of what he was asking, the gravity of the moment wrapping around you both like a soft blanket. “I—I feel the same way. You mean so much to me. I’ve wanted this, too.”

A flicker of relief crossed his features, a subtle transformation that made your heart flutter. His eyes sparkled with something deeper now, a mix of hope and affection. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yes.” You replied, your voice steadying as you leaned in closer. “You’ve always been more than just a roommate to me. You’re my best friend, and these past few weeks… they’ve shown me just how much I care for you.”

His expression softened, and you could see a rush of emotions flood through him—joy, relief, love. He shifted even closer, his warmth enveloping you as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your cheek.

“Then let’s make it official.” He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want you to be mine, Jel, officially. No more hiding how we feel. I want everyone to know how much you mean to me.”

In that moment, the world around you faded completely, leaving only the two of you under the starlit sky, surrounded by the vibrant hum of the city. You could feel your heart swell with an overwhelming sense of happiness, knowing that this was the beginning of something beautiful.

“Yes, I want that, too.” you murmured, feeling the truth of your words resonate deep within you. And as he leaned in, capturing your lips with his, everything felt right—like this was where you were meant to be all along. When his lips finally met yours, it was like the stars had aligned, igniting a spark that lit up the night. The kiss was soft and tender at first, a delicate exploration that sent shivers racing down your spine. You melted against him, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his presence envelop you. His hands cradled your face, thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment.

You responded instinctively, leaning into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, a mingling of sweetness and longing, as if all the unsaid words and emotions were pouring into this one moment. Time seemed to stretch, the universe narrowing down to just the two of you lost in each other, surrounded by the glow of the city.

His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency, igniting a fire within you that made your heart race. You could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in your ears, a steady reminder of the connection you were forging. In that kiss, you felt all the love, all the promise of what was to come, binding you together in an intimate embrace.

As you finally pulled away, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathless, hearts racing, eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes.

Sebastian intertwined his fingers with yours, his grip gentle yet firm, and together, you began to walk back toward the motorcycle. The city lights twinkled like stars, casting a magical ambiance around you as you strolled side by side. Each step felt light, filled with the joy of your newfound connection.

“So, are you officially my girlfriend now?” He asked playfully, casting a sidelong glance at you, his lips curled into a teasing smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up like a melody. “I think that’s a fair assumption.” You replied, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “I mean, after that kiss, how could I say no?”

Sebastian chuckled, a deep, warm sound that resonated in your chest, making you feel giddy. “Good, because I’m definitely not letting you go.” He said, his voice low and sincere. He turned to look at you, his eyes reflecting the shimmering lights around. “You make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand tighter. “I feel the same way. I never expected to feel this way about you, but it just feels… right.”

As you approached the motorcycle, the evening air felt charged with a sweet tension, the promise of many more moments like this to come. Sebastian let go of your hand for a moment to grab his helmet and yours, but the moment he put it on, he turned back to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Ready for the ride of your life?” he asked, his voice muffled slightly by the helmet.

“Always.” you replied, smiling brightly.

He climbed onto the bike and motioned for you to join him, and as you settled in behind him, the warmth of his body radiated through the leather of his jacket. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the comforting strength of him beneath your fingertips, and rested your head against his back.

With a soft rumble, the engine roared to life, and he turned his head slightly to call over his shoulder, “Hold on tight!”

As he accelerated into the night, you felt the wind rush past, a whirlwind of freedom and exhilaration. The city lights blurred into streaks of color around you, but in this moment, nothing compared to the feeling of being so close to him.

#roblox pressure #sebastian solace #pressure #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace fanfic #pressure x reader

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lonely-north-star · 7 months ago

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"I lose my voice when I look at you

Can't make a noise though I'm trying to

Tell you all the right words

Waiting on the right words"

@/NemesisNoda (ON TWITTER) HAS DONE IT AGAIN !!!! BROUGHT MY DREAMS (SILLY COFFEE SHOP AU) TO LIFE !!!

i literally went to her with a sketch like "hey 👉👈" AND SHE AGREED !! I'M SO HAPPY WITH THIS COMM !!!!

if you don't know, or maybe you do bc you've seen me ramble in CC's (@/misc-obeyme) ask box under ✨ anon, THIS IS MY COFFEE SHOP AU WITH MAMMON, SOLOMON, AND MC AND HOW THEY INEVITABLY END UP TOGETHER !!! <333 my silly lil poly ship

Mammon as a barista/owner, Solomon as a college student, and my mc as a record shop owner. Mammon short circuits on a Wednesday (Solomon never shows up on Wednesdays) because the two people he finds a little too attractive are both a counter's width away (for the first time, at the same time) and he can't handle it. Fate (a late bus and upcoming exams) brought them together on this day.

I have so many ideas and lore and other characters make varying appearances (fashion student asmo, tattoo artist/piercer thirteen, streamer levi, photographer belphie LIKE ASDKDDJ. IT'S FICTION OKAY AND POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS WHEN YOU'RE HAVING FUN).

I'm so crazy about this AU, i daydream about it at work but have not managed to put words to paper </3 fanfic coming soon™ hopefully. if you ask me about it i will probably end up writing an essay because I have too much to say (will also profusely sob bc i can't fathom people being into my ideas)

And Solomon is a little shit who teases both of them, but is also the only reason this slow burn isn't slower. My poor mc is both oblivious and scared of their feelings </3. Mammon stress bakes and loses sleep over how two regulars wormed their ways into his heart without even trying.

BUT IT'S OKAY BECAUSE THEY'LL END UP HAPPY AND TOGETHER (right? :D)

Lucky Brew AU is one step closer to being real !!!! WHEEE

#commission #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me solomon #obey me mc #mammon #solomon #my mc #lucky brew au #my silly lil poly ship #mammon x solomon #solomams #not sure what else to tag #mammon x solomon x mc #i guess ??#mc paula

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balladeerssong · 5 months ago

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| SYNOPSIS | being a uni student and a streamer at the same time, let alone doing well in both, is wonderful. but if one gets too much, the other does as well, leading to unexpected difficulties. what happenes if two strangers fall into this exact same trouble, at the exact same time?

a Scaramouche x fem!Reader, social media au.

| WARNINGS | swearing, suggestive themes, family-related trauma, love triangles, friend group dramas.

| MASTERLIST |

profiles I.

profiles II.

extra profiles

part I. - work, work, work!

part II. - wednesday?

part III. - worried.

part IV. - withdrawal.

part V. - who?

part VI. - a poem

part VII. - anony-mouche?

part VIII. - ajax..

part IX. - almost. (written part)

part X. - an invitation?

part XI. - nexus. (written part)

part XII. - no words.

part XIII. - normal

part XIV. - no. stay. (written part)

part XV. -

part XVI. -

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #wanderer #wanderer x reader #scaramouche smau #scaramouche x reader smau #balladeerfic

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vaniloqu3nce · 2 years ago

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*giggles* make them play It Takes Two.

Streamer Enid AU where Enid manages to rope Wednesday into playing one of those 2 player challenge games like Cuphead, then sits there in slack-jawed awe as Wednesday proceeds to stomp all the bosses in three tries or less.

“Wednesday! I didn’t know you were this good at video games!”

“Once you identify their frankly poorly formulated attack patterns, avoiding them becomes trivial. If they wished to defeat me they should do more than the same 3 to 5 things over and over again.”

(Inside Wednesday is preening at all the praise from Enid.)

#wenclair #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #enid x wednesday #wenid #eniday #streamer au

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aisclosed · 1 year ago

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the art of purrsuasion - y. jungwon

jungwon has the purrfect solution for your unfurtunate situation

PAIRING: non idol! y. jungwon x reader GENRE: university au , fluff, friends to lovers | WORDCOUNT: 3.9 k WARNINGS: mild language? nothing rlly

Birthday Café Event!

Jungwon blinks at the sign hanging over the door to his favorite café, willing the mirage to change before his eyes. Not that it would do much considering the walls plastered with large posters of some k-pop idol in various poses, accompanied by balloons and streamers hanging obnoxiously from the ceiling.

The once cozy shop, tucked away in a less traveled street near his classes, had become a constant in his weekly routine. He found comfort in the quaint tables, the soft notes of music and the aroma of fresh baked goods flooding his senses as he grinded through his work. And yet, the café was betraying him now, the bustling crowd of fans indicating that today, his favorite latte and croissant wouldn't be there to soothe the sting of a 5 page requirement.

“Jungwon!” a voice calls in greeting, and he whips around to meet your eyes, catching your quickly falling expression as you take in the packed café. “Woah…what the hell is going on?”

You were another new constant in his life, ever since the first day of the semester. You had stumbled into class late, your hair whipping wildly around you as you quickly slid into the nearest available seat. Luckily for Jungwon, it just so happened to be the seat next to his own. He had slid his notes over to you, receiving a grateful beam in return that had his stomach churning and his cheeks heating.

That same seat was occupied by you the next day, and the day after that, and the next. Until, sometime between the muffled snorts at your professor’s sad attempts at jokes and whispered, “what the fuck does that even mean’s, the pair of you had become friends.

Jungwon was all for trying new things, but what he craved was stability, playing by the rules, routine. You were the opposite, a whirlwind of a person coming into his life with all the force of a hurricane.

Instead of putting up his walls to maintain some semblance of security, Jungwon found himself swept away by your gusts of change, and happily so. Where he once had to drag himself out of bed, fighting the urge to skip his 8am lecture, he now woke even before his alarm had a chance to ring. You were his new routine. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday he would rush to get to class to see you, and every Tuesday and Thursday he would count the minutes until he could see you again.

In a stroke of genius and a slight desperation to see you more often, Jungwon had suggested study dates sessions. You had regarded him with a smile tugging at the corner of your lips and mirth dancing in your eyes. Heat had licked at the apples of his cheeks and he had begun to stutter out an excuse when you had cut him off “Yeah, I’d like that, text me when and where.”

And so, another piece of you slotted into Jungwon’s schedule, study sessions at the café whenever the two of you could squeeze one in. Maybe the two of you had slight ulterior motives but your grades weren’t complaining and you certainly weren't either. Jungwon much preferred your “dates” to class time. It was the only time he could listen to you freely ramble about everything, from your kitten Dalgona to your frustrations, without the sharp glare your professor was privy to shooting at him.

Now, it's been a particularly challenging week, with never ending assignments, a frustrating project and a three hour long lab on top of it all. Jungwon really needs this. Jungwon really needs you.

You can almost visualize a darkening cloud thundering over Jungwon’s head as he shoots daggers at the café. Letting out a laugh, you bump your hip against his to grab his attention, “Hey it’s alright, we can find somewhere else to study, no need to commit arson.”

Jungwon tilts his head inquisitively, “Yeah, but where? They’re doing construction by the Library Annex and the Main Library is across campus. We don’t have many options besides the big cafes but those are just as busy.”

“My dorm is like five minutes away and my roomie’s gone home for the week,” you offer, Jungwon’s eyes widening comically in response. “Unlessssss, you want to stay at this café? Who knows, maybe you’ll get scouted by some big shot k-pop company. Get some fans of your own,” you tease.

Jungwon scoffs, pushing you lightly as his cheeks flush with color. “As if. Alright, if you’re sure it won’t be an inconvenience let’s go to yours.” Beaming in satisfaction, you tug at his hoodie sleeve, leading him towards the direction of your dorm.

He admires you silently, the way your hair bounces slightly with each step and the swift glances you give when you think he’s not looking. As if you think he might get lost despite the firm grip you have on the fabric of his sleeve. For a second Jungwon considers shifting his arm slightly to just interlock his fingers with yours, but before he can, you’ve come to a halt, looking at him in horror.

“Wait! I forgot all about your cat allergy, will you be okay with Dalgona there? Maybe we should just look for another place?” you ask, your eyes round with worry. Jungwon looks down at you, trying his best to stop from melting at your cute expression.

He shakes his head softly in denial, “My allergy isn’t that severe, I think I can handle a couple hours. Plus I’ve been wanting to meet Dalgona for ages anyways.” Jungwon gestures for you to continue leading the way but you merely squint at him skeptically. Huffing in false exasperation he takes your hand in his, pulling you forward. “Come on, I’ll be fine. I mean it.”

Your pupils dilate at the action, flickering to where your hands are now joined. A wave of embarrassment washes over Jungwon and he laughs awkwardly, hurriedly trying to release his hold on your hand.

Before he can, you’ve already interlocked your fingers with his own, holding onto him firmly as you begin continuing your journey to your dorm. For a second, Jungwon allows himself to be tugged along like a rag doll after you.

Even from behind he can see the slight blush on your ears and cheeks as you desperately try to maintain your composure. The wind tousles your hair gently, pushing the strands back to reveal your features illuminated softly by the sunlight. Jungwon feels as if the air has just been stolen out of his lungs and he thinks that if it meant he got to see this view, he would gladly follow you to the ends of the Earth.

It's not until the pair of you have reached your building and are waiting for the elevator, hands still linked, that something odd occurs to Jungwon. Glancing at the receptionist across the lobby, he leans down to whisper into the shell of your ear. “Y/N,” you startle at the feeling of his breath against your skin, looking up at him inquisitively, “Aren’t pets prohibited in student housing? Unless it's a service animal.”

You glance worriedly at the receptionist, signaling to Jungwon to wait for your answer. The elevator door opens with a chime and you hurry in, pulling Jungwon with you.

It's only when the door shuts securely that you begin whispering conspiratorially, “Ok, yes technically Dalgona isn't allowed to be here. But I'm working on getting him written off as an emotional support companion. You don't understand, I need him,” you pout at Jungwon pleadingly.

“Alright,” Jungwon chuckles, swinging your hands together as you exit the elevator, coming to a stop in front of your room, “It’s not like I was gonna report you, I just don't want you getting into any trouble with housing.”

“It should be fine honestly, Dalgona is a really sweet kitty, he doesn't get into much trouble. The only real issue is my RA Renjun,” you gesture at the floor monitor's door down the hall, fit with a shiny plaque and complaints box. “He’s really nice though, he’s just a bit of a stickler for the rules. Which is his whole job so I don’t really have much place to complain.”

You come to a stop in front of your door, shifting to grab the keys from your bag. Jungwon reluctantly releases your hand and you finally fish out your keys, opening the door and leading him in. “He’s been pretty close to catching me, sometimes Dalgona meows really loudly near the door and Renjun knocks. I just act like I’m not here and he gives up. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague,” you giggle and Jungwon shakes his head in exasperation.

Jungwon takes in his surroundings while you set down your bag and fiddle with your speaker until Wave to Earth plays quietly in the background. Your room is cute, a large bed equipped with a fluffy duvet and numerous plushies pushed to one corner, and walls and shelves littered with albums, trinkets and plants. On your pillow sits a small calico kitten, his stare trained on the unfamiliar figure in his territory. Suddenly Jungwon’s caught in an intense stare off, sharp green eyes meet rounded brown eyes, both unwilling to be the first to break away.

The tension is shattered when you suddenly chuckle at the scene, “What are you two doing honestly,” you giggle, scooping up Dalgona into your arms. “I’ve always agreed you were cat-like Wonnie, but I didn’t expect to see this feline face off,” you walk over to Jungwon, lifting Dalgona slightly, “Say hi to Jungwon baby,” you coo softly.

Jungwon offers his fingers for Dalgona to sniff and he does so tentatively, before deeming the new intruder acceptable and nuzzling into his palm. “He likes you!” you squeal happily, looking up to find Jungwon already looking at you with a soft smile. Suddenly you’re all too aware of the lack of distance between your faces, the way his broad stature looms over you and the way his eyes draw you in.

Laughing nervously, you stumble back, nearly tripping on your rug as you try to regain some semblance of normalcy. “Woah, careful,” Jungwon steadies you, his hand resting against the small of your back.

“Thanks,” you breathe out, Dalgona leaps out of your arms with a meow, affronted by your jolts. The movement snaps the two of you out of your daze and you clear your throat awkwardly and step away from him. “You wanna get started on the review outline?” You gather your laptop and notebooks, settling onto your bed and beckoning Jungwon to come join you.

Jungwon nods stiffly, and sits gingerly at the edge of your bed despite there being ample space for him to scoot closer. It's silent, an uncomfortable tension that you’ve never experienced with him stifling the air. Jungwon leans in slightly from his position, struggling to read the notes on the screen and you meet eyes.

You're blinking owlishly at each other when suddenly you both break into laughter, Jungwon doubling over until he's laying flat on the bed, right next to you. “What's wrong with us today?” you wheeze, wiping a stray tear from the force of your laughs.

“I have no clue,” Jungwon smiled sheepishly, “We’re just being a little silly, I don't know why it’s so awkward. Maybe it's the new setting that's throwing us off.” You roll back into your back, mimicking Jungwon’s position until you're looking back into his eyes.

“Yeah maybe it is, we really should get to working though, this assignment is gonna kill us if we push it off any longer,” you grumble shifting back to look at the papers. Jungwon nods in agreement, and this time the silence that settles is warm, accompanied only by the faint sounds of music and Dalgona playing with his toys.

It's hours later and Jungwon’s eyes have started to sting, the letters and words all blurring together. He lets out a sigh, throwing his head back dramatically to rest against your shoulder. You look at him in amusement, knocking your head against his playfully, “Am I losing you to the deathly grips of literary analysis Wonnie?”

Jungwon only groans in response, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck. Absentmindedly, he thinks that you smell good, warm and slightly sweet, nothing like the scents that usually overpower his sensitive nose. It's kind of intoxicating, like the smell of fresh baked treats at the café, and Jungwon finds himself inhaling you subconsciously.

“Jungwon… did you just sniff me?”

He halts, a prickling heat crawling up his neck, “No?” Jungwon denies meekly, unwilling to lift his head up.

“Oh my god you were sniffing me!” you giggle gleefully, “I don't think you can get any closer to being an actual cat Won, what's next will you meow for me?” Jungwon releases a sound of indignation, backing to splutter a series of denials, when Dalgona starts meowing rather loudly near the door.

Immediately you shoot up from the bed, “Baby! Please don’t.” You grab his favorite toy on the way picking him up and trying best to mollify whatever was bothering him.

There's a loud knocking on the door. You freeze, looking in horror at Jungwon who stares back, equally helpless.

“Y/N! It's Renjun!” you scrunch your face in panic, cursing your luck. “Come on, Y/N you can’t act like you're not here this time, I literally just heard your voice in there. Open up or I’m going to have to get the building supervisor and really don’t want to have to do that.”

“Oh my god,” you whimper, quickly placing Dalgona in your bathroom, equipped with toys and a mat to hopefully keep him occupied while you figure out how to save your academic life. You shut the door as quietly as you can and Jungwon walks over, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“Don’t worry we’ll come up with something,” Jungwon whispers comfortingly, but you’re not sure he believes it himself. You smooth your hair, plastering on your most disarming smile and swing the door open.

Renjun’s stood with his hand hovering over the air, clearly poised to knock again. “Heyyyyy Renjun Oppa, it's been a while. I never see you anymore, I almost thought you were avoiding me,” you say brightly, hoping he doesn't see right through your ploy. The hand Jungwon has still resting on your waist tightens just a fraction at your words, before returning again to its ministrations.

“Uh huh I’m sure you did Y/N,” Renjun says dryly, “Can I come in, we need to talk.” Your smile stiffens but you simply nod, inviting him in. He walks in, giving Jungwon a nod in greeting, Renjun doesn't say anything but you don’t miss the way his eyes scour the place, looking for any sign of an prohibited presence.

With a sigh he pivots and turns to you, “Look Y/N I’m sorry to do this when you have company but you know what this is about. I keep hearing meowing from your room and you know pets are against policy. As much as I want to make an exception for you, I can’t. I don't want to get you in any trouble but I will have to file an official report for this.”

Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as you begin to plead with him, “Wait Renjun please I can explain-”

“It was me.”

Both you and Renjun turn in unison to look at Jungwon incredulously. His cheeks are slightly flushed but his brow is set with determination. “The meowing, it was me.”

“Jungwon, stop you don't have to do this-,” you start but he waves you off, stepping in front of Renjun.

“I, uh get compared to a cat a lot,” Jungwon gestures at his face shyly but Renjun only stares blankly in response. “So I kind of have this habit of meowing, and Y/N finds it cute so I was just doing it to impress her. She just didn't open the door for you before because she wanted to save me from the humiliation.”

At this point you’ve faded into the background, hand clamped in disbelief over your mouth as your eyes dart furiously back and forth between Renjun and Jungwon.

Renjun narrows his eyes, assessing Jungwon fully.

“You do look like a cat, I'll give you that, but you truly honestly expect me to believe that all this time the meowing I've heard from this room has been you and Y/N doing some weird kinky furry shit.”

“I do not have a furry kink,” you protest fervently but are silenced by both guys shooting you a sharp glare, one that clearly says keep quiet.

“It's really not a kink,” Jungwon mumbles before meeting Renjun’s eyes defiantly, “But yes, that's the truth.”

Renjun scoffs in disbelief at the situation, crossing his arms across his chest. “Alright then, prove it.”

“Okay come on, that's too far, Jungwon you don’t-”

“Alright I will,” Jungwon cuts you off brazenly, clearing his throat before releasing a set of meows that sound almost entirely too similar to your kitten’s. Your jaw unhinges and you let out a strangled noise, you’re unsure whether to laugh, cry, or coo at Jungwon. His cheeks are now a bright pink, his hands instinctively coming up to make a claws, his sweater forming cute paws to accompany the image. It's all too cute, and he's doing it all for you, if Renjun doesn’t kick you out first you think you might melt into a puddle on the dormitory floor.

Renjun sighs, pinching his nose bridge before letting his hand drag down his face. “You know what I give up. I can’t afford to be sitting here dissecting whether you guys are actually furries or not. I have an exam coming. Y/N I don't want either of us getting in trouble so if you are hiding a pet, please resolve the issue, or at least find a way to be more discreet.”

You nod feverously, thanking Renjun for not filing a report and basically pushing him out the door. He’s just crossed the threshold when Dalgona lets out a very untimely meow from the bathroom. Renjun freezes, swiveling around to question you further but Jungwon quickly intercepts, “Just saying bye, Renjun hyung!”

Renjun looks as if he’s aged 5 years by the end of your interaction and so he surrenders with a grimace, giving a half hearted wave and walking towards his room. Jungwon and you wait with air lodged in your throats, ears pressed against the wood door until you hear the faint creak and click of Renjun’s room closing with finality.

You face each other, giving a simultaneous cheer of celebration before you jump onto Jungwon. He accepts your hug with open arms, lifting you and spinning you around in utter delight. The rush of adrenaline settles into a lingering flutter, and Jungwon sways you gently from side to side in his embrace.

You're still nuzzled into the soft fabric of his hoodie, when you mumble, “I can’t believe you actually did that. And that it worked. Yang Jungwon, I could quite literally kiss you right now.”

“Maybe you should,” he whispers so faintly, that for a second you question whether you even heard it at all. It isn't until Jungwon’s hand finds your chin, tilting it up to face him and his thumb swipes gently against your parted lips that you realize it's real.

It's with baited breath that you wait, painstakingly, for Jungwon to make a move. “What do you think hm Y/N?” he asks you with a smirk settled onto his face, “Don’t I deserve a kiss baby?” Instead, Jungwon’s rolled the ball back into your court, the decision is yours to make, and there's really never been any other choice. Not with him. Not for you.

You lean in and he meets you halfway, nose brushing against your cheek as he presses a soft kiss against your lips. Jungwon pulls back to look at your expression, the way your breath is stuttered, your flushed cheeks and your widened pupils.

“I’ve been wanting this for so long,” Jungwon mumbles against your lips, capturing them in a proper kiss. The phrase makes your head reel with thoughts, but it's too difficult to try and dissect what he means when his fingers are buried into your hair and he tastes so good on your tongue.

You don't break away until your lungs are burning, parting with a gasp. For a moment you both stare at each other, watching the rise and fall of your chests, not sure what to make of what just occurred, not sure what comes after. Jungwon’s suddenly filled with humiliation at the memory of earlier and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “I can’t believe it took me meowing to finally confess to you,” he whines softly.

You let out a sharp guffaw, the tremors of your giggles shaking Jungwon’s head. He turns to look at you from his position, pouting playfully at being the subject of your glee. “Was that really a confession, Wonnie? All you did was ask me for a kiss,” you tease as you brush his bangs away from his eyes.

He takes your teasing challenge in stride, straightening to look at you properly, his hands resting on your hips. “I like you Y/N. A lot. You're all I think about and all I look forward to being with. You’ve completely wrecked my schedule, my life and my dignity. Not only have I meowed for you but I'd even go as far as to bark,” he jokes, pinching your waist as you swat at him playfully.

“I know you’ve already got your hands full with one kitty in your life,” Jungwon continues smiling fondly, “but if you’ll have me I’d love to be the second.”

Your face might split from the smile you give him, eyes curling up cutely into crescents. “I like you too, Yang Jungwon. A lot. Honestly, I don't even like coffee, so if I can bear drinking those nasty drinks for you, I definitely think I can handle another kitty. Especially one as cute as you.”

Jungwon beams at the compliment, grabbing your cheeks gently to peck your face all over, when a rather loud meow resonates from the bathroom.

“Dalgona!” You gasp in panic, breaking away from Jungwon to gather your kitty, checking to make sure he’s okay. Jungwon leans against the door frame watching you coddle Dalgona, giving the feline the kisses that were supposed to be his. He scoffs at the smug look Dalgona shoots him at having received all your attention.

You look up at the sound, smiling at the envy painted so clearly on Jungwon’s face. Leaving Dalgona to roam on his own, you cup Jungwon’s cheeks allowing him to lean into your palm. “What’s it take for a guy to get some affection from his girl around here,” Jungwon sighs theatrically in false annoyance.

A laugh escapes you, and you tug Jungwon forward by the fabric of his jacket until he’s flush against your body, his lips a millimeter distance. “You’ll figure it out, I find you can be rather purrsuasive when you need to be.

a/n: overwrote again,,, but this was inspired by @alouettesque 's promptlist ! hope u guys enjoyed it :)

getting back into writing regularly so send an ask or fill out the form to be added to my taglist! see u guys soon mwah

perm taglist: @hoonsunivrs @pkjay @thatfeelinwhenyou @lacimolela @ttalgi @cieluna @ahnneyong @luvlee1313 @meowmeowhoon @llama-lyna @dmoki @w3bqrl @16doie @itsvynnie @tniastwon @given8taken @yakjw @miukityy @meowwonie @simp4jakesim @teddywons @flowertothejungwon @skywithf1 @yur1a1 @nyeonglover @fallingenluvv @run2seob

*if you changed ur @ pls send in another submission :(

#enhanet #kflixnet #k-labels #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #jungwon x reader #enhypen scenarios #jungwon oneshots #yang jungwon #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines #enha x reader #enha smau #enhypen smau #jungwon fluff #enhypen fluff

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