#dokyeom angst

[highvern]

Totally Scrooged

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader

Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut

warnings:  alcohol consumption, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), protected sex, lots of crying, mentions of cheating (not reader or seokmin), theater nerd Seokmin

Length: ~16k

Note: I was hoping to post this way earlier but alas. I got sick back to back over the holidays. ANYWAYS thank u my sweet @gyuswhore for beta reading and talking me down from the edge and @miniseokminnies for all the theater knowledge. And @ugh-yoongi bc words are hard. CHECK OUT the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios and keep an eye for our next project

summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.

At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.

Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson. 

After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.

In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.” 

They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially. 

She’s like my sister.

Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.

It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them. 

Your friends text you how much of a jerk he is, a few call but you ignore them. All you want is to wallow in self pity.

Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.

It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.

Assholes.

Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. 

Shot number seven empties the bottle.

Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”

It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.

“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.

In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.

You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.

Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.

Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.

He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze make deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.

Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”

“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”

It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark? 

Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”

Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.

“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”

Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”

“Stupid shit,” he says. “Why are you crying?”

You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. While most people preferred not to be humiliated via social media, it showed his true colors and firmly shut the door. But sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people who deserved it. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know. 

Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of losing even the tightest lips.

“My ex got engaged.”

His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flights are delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.

Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad. 

But you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving were ungodly expensive.

Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.

You say yes, following him inside.

Mr. Neighbor’s apartment is similar to yours; mirrors the layout of your cramped one bedroom except with neutral colors and a lot more decor. The couch divides the living area from the kitchen. Comfy blankets and pillows littered around. Someone actually lives here, unlike your place where the most personalized thing is fridge magnets. You didn’t feel the need to decorate an apartment you didn’t see yourself staying in very long. Even if it’d been almost a year and the lease renewal sat on your countertop, signed and ready to drop off at the leasing office.

He walks into the kitchen, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room while he fishes in the cabinet for something. You sink into one of the leather barstools and watch as he pours water from a pitcher in the sink and slides it across the counter.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You drink it all in one go while he waits, sobering up enough to realize how embarrassing this all is. You’re drunk, in your mysterious neighbor's kitchen, crying about your ex-boyfriend. But he was drunk, listening to one of the most depressing songs in history, crying about “stupid shit.” Mutually assured destruction. 

“We only broke up at Christmas last year.”

“And he’s already engaged?”

“To his best friend.”

At that, Mr. Neighbor procures another glass and pours a little bit of whiskey before presenting it to you. “That’s rough.”

This time, you don’t even wince when you swallow.

He stares, waiting for some sort of reply, tipping the bottle into his own cup but not drinking it just yet. Now that he only has one face instead of four, your face heats. Drunk, sad and a little horny because he has really nice hands, and an even better face.

You tug your phone out and push it across the counter as a distraction for you both. Not that he probably needs it, you’re a wreck. “Here look at this picture.”

Mr. Neighbor scrolls through each picture methodically. Zooming in on strangers he doesn’t even know. Mouthing the caption in silent horror. In effort not to stare at his fingers, you focus on everything else in his apartment. 

His fridge is covered in magnets and take out menus, but mixed into the collage are pictures. Photobooth strips in black and white, some large normal photos better suited for a frame. You’re too far away to decipher any of it but curiosity itches you to get a closer look. Postcards from different places, sport theme magnets. Baseball seems to be his favorite.

“He proposed to her at a Turkey Trot?” he says, like the idea is incredibly alien.

“Their families have done it since they were born. Like their moms ran it pregnant and pushed them in strollers until they could keep up.”

“That is….”

You laugh. “Insane.”

“I’m glad you said it,” he chuckles. “Who proposes after running a marathon?”

“I know!” you cry.

You tip the bottle of whiskey into your once again empty mug. There will be hell to pay in the morning but you need something to do to distract from the way your heart pinches at the sound of his laugh. The sad drunk stage is tapering into the horny drunk stage and you really don’t need to ask your nameless neighbor if he wants to make out on his couch. Although, it looks leagues comfier than the second hand lump sitting a wall over. Drinking any more will only make it worse but you need something to do with your hands that doesn’t involve touching him, or thinking about touching him.

He circles the counter and takes the barstool next to yours. Close enough you can feel the heat from his body, the smell of soap and citrus faintly tickling your nose. You want to dive into his shirt and breathe it in until you fall asleep. 

Mr. Neighbor is just a decently attractive man that has been overly generous with his time and not been a creep. That is the only reason why your brain is latching onto him right now; you know it. In a few hours, when your head hangs limp over the toilet bowl, you’ll regret this entire interaction and even more if you make it weird.

You balk, rushing away from the thought and looking for a distraction. “I’m not like…pining over him, if that's what you’re wondering. It just sucks seeing your ex who was staunchly against any long term commitment make it clear he was only against long term commitment with you.”

Mr. Neighbor seems to believe you. So many of your friends thought you harbored feelings for Sam this long after the break up but the truth is, you almost expected things to end. Not on Christmas with nothing but a text message, but it always felt like you and Sam had one foot out of the relationship. The end brought certainty and for that you almost felt relieved.

“If it’s any help, I don’t think it was a ‘you’ problem.”

For a second, you want to believe he actually believes that. He’s not just saying it because he’s being nice and letting you cry in his kitchen and drink his booze. Everything about Mr. Neighbor screams PERPETUALLY NICE. Like he saves kittens from trees and walks old ladies across the street in his spare time.

“You don’t even know me.”

“No, but he’s the one that kept you around while waiting for someone else. Sounds like an asshole to me,” he says.

“He is an asshole,” you whisper like a secret. Mr. Neighbor smiles back and you remember you don’t know his name.

He tells you without a shred of judgment.

“Seokmin.”

“I’m YN.”

“I know,” he blurts. His ears tinge pink just before his cheeks. “You had a friend come over one time, she yelled it pretty loud.”

Lydia only had two settings when talking: loud, and louder. Seokmin probably knew a lot more than just your name but was too polite to mention those sordid details.

“So, Seokmin. My drama aside, why were you crying? Or do you listen to depressing music to pregame a wild night out?”

Seokmin nods at your offer to top off his cup and chugs half of it with a wince.

“It feels kinda dumb now but I volunteer at the city theater downtown.”

That explains the framed playbills and theater tickets splashed across the living room walls. A story of all the productions he probably attended or participated in. You only recognized a few of the names. Perpetually Nice, indeed.

“Did one of them dump pig's blood on you while on stage?”

“No, nothing like that.” His mouth unzips into an amused grin. It looks much more fitting than the tears from earlier. “The director won a month-long European cruise and now I’m in charge of the winter production.”

What do people even do on a boat for that long?

“And I’m assuming you don’t want to be the director.”

“I did!” he groans. “But everyone is already emailing me and calling me, trying to bribe me into giving them bigger parts. Have you ever dealt with theater parents?”

Shaking your head, Seokmin grabs your hand with wide, terrified eyes. “They’re like dance moms on crack. I can’t handle it. Not to mention - surprise! - there’s no money for it and I have to do all the fundraising myself.”

Instead of responding, you fill each cup with another generous shot, clink glasses, and swallow them in tandem. The burn is long gone. Now, you feel like you're standing in the ocean, bobbing at the mercy of the waves as he keeps talking about the theater. How someone held him hostage after a meeting for an extra thirty minutes trying to convince him they didn’t need to audition. Someone else proposed an original production of Dracula as a break from the holiday slush every other theater planned. It glides right over your head, until he forces a glass of water into your grip.

“Sorry about my music,” he says.

“Sorry for being a bitch.”

“It’s okay. I get it.”

“Your ex also broke up with you for their childhood best friend?”

“No. The last one broke up with me for her dog walker.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah, well he’s bald now.” He shrugs and takes another swig. Water not whiskey by the lack of grimace. “She’s also trying to audition.”

At least you have the privilege of watching your ex’s new courtship through the filter of social media. Seokmin is watching it play out a few feet away from him with a constant reminder that his ex-girlfriend was onto seemingly better things with a man who picked up dog shit for a living. Small mercies.

“How long have you two…” you trail off.

“Three months.”

His tone makes it clear there is nothing else he wishes to share on the matter. You get it. Three months after Sam you weren’t ready to talk about it, still kept all the shared memories you two had together in one of the boxes shoved deep in the hall closet. It wasn’t until nearly eight months passed that you finally donated what you could of the gifts he bought you and threw the other half away. Now, you can laugh at the way you sobbed over the ugly monogrammed dish towels from your shared apartment. When his mom gifted them for your birthday, the first thought you had was to burn them. 

“So what’s your play?”

Seokmin looks grateful for the swift change in topic. “A Christmas Carol.”

“Never seen it.”

“What?” he gasps. “It’s a classic!”

Below the counter, his knee presses firmly against your thigh. Seokmin doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because it stays there. Warm and grounded and all too tempting but you don’t move away either. A trickle of embarrassment heats your body when you realize you’re wearing the pajama pants Lydia got you for Secret Santa last year. The ones with cartoon gingerbread people fucking in small print all over them. If Seokmin looked down he’d see them in flagrante.

It didn’t mean anything but it felt nice. No way he saw your frumpy clothes and puffy face, crying over your ex and thought I want a piece of that. Typically, drinking only had two paths. On a normal night, you’d go from pleasantly buzzed to “wooo girl drunk,” as Lydia put it, then horny drunk shortly before falling asleep. Tonight, crying drunk meant no woo-ing and definitely no inappropriate thoughts. But Seokmin is the first real man to stoke a tiny ember of interest in months. 

It’d be messy. Not the act itself. Maybe. You’re tipsy and he doesn’t look any better but a sloppy makeout wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. However, making out with your neighbor and then dealing with the fall out of such a clumsy entanglement probably wasn’t worth whatever his hands were capable of.

So you snuff it out.

You shrug. “Not really a big Christmas person.”

“I would invite you to come see it but at this rate I doubt we’ll even have a show to begin with.”

You discover that given the chance, Seokmin talks a lot. Shares his entire life story about moving to the city with a group of friends from college, most of them living with their partners. How he found the theater while on lunch break from his job that he didn’t hate but didn’t like. Started volunteering. Met Martha, now ex-girlfriend, there. 

He also asks question after question about you, and somehow it doesn’t feel like he’s prying even though he hardly shares about himself. Probably because you’ve reached sleepy drunk and your eyes drop shut, responding while half asleep. You tell him everything. It’s not like you can embarrass yourself any further. But Seokmin doesn't make you feel the slightest bit of shame.

How you met Sam at a friend’s wedding and Carson was his plus one. How Carson’s boyfriends never seemed to meet Sam’s standards. How she was a little too friendly towards you but Sam swore Carson liked everyone. And from your experience, everyone liked her. Then, last Christmas, you stayed at home with the flu while the annual Phan/Spencer celebration took place and woke up to a nice heartfelt text message.

“That’s so fucked up.”

“Yeah, well what’s even more fucked up is his mom posting a picture of her with Carson captioned ‘the daughter I always wanted.’” you huff. “That really sucked.”

Seokmin doesn’t say anything. Not that he can. How do you comfort a stranger about a shitty relationship with even more beneath the surface? 

Instead, you both sit in comfortable silence, locked in separate trains of thought. It isn’t until he messes with his phone and Celine Dion materializes into the room once again that you realize how weird it is to be sitting there, sharing woes with a complete stranger.

“Well, I’m just gonna…” you start, sliding off the bar stool.

“Yeah…”

You don’t look back, making a beeline for the door. “Have a goodnight! I hope you aren’t eaten by steroid fueled theater nerds.”

You’re in the hallway, lock latched firmly behind, before he can respond.

You don’t see Seokmin for another week. Not like you saw him much before but now you have a name to the face, along with hobbies and a personality. And his hands. Which don’t seem to leave your memory despite the desperate effort you put into doing so.

Even if you don’t see him though, you hear him on the other side of your living room wall shuffling around when you get home from work. 

He keeps his sad playlist to a minimum, and his singing about the same, flat rumbles through the shared wall you can easily ignore. Sometimes you don’t. Occasionally, you’ll pause whatever Netflix dating show poisoning your brain and listen, eyes closed as your mind wanders.

You hear him humming as he passes your door on the way out to work in the morning while you sip coffee and answer emails from your kitchen counter. Sometimes it's showtunes you don’t recognize, others it's Christmas carols. Seokmin has a lovely voice you realize, now free from irritation. It’s weird you never noticed before.

Apparently, Lydia noticed him long before you did.

You finish telling her about the entire debacle with Sam and Carson. Lydia doesn’t believe in social media of any kind so all of her life updates come over Bananagrams and face masks during your semi-weekly Thursday girl’s night at her apartment.

“You just hang out with your hot neighbor drunk and don’t make a move?” she tsks.

“How do you know my neighbor is hot?”

“Unlike you, I pay attention to my surroundings.” 

Part of the reason she deleted all her social media was because she wanted to be more ‘in the moment.’ This proves that maybe it actually worked. 

Grabbing more letter tiles, you brush off the taunt. “Well, unlike you, I can keep it in my pants.”

“How long has it been since you let someone under the hood?”

“Not that long,” you grumble.

“Really?” Lydia rolls her eyes at the next word you spell, S-A-D. 

“Shut up. It was the only one I could find.” You take another sip of hot cider. The hangover from last week's bender still haunts you. “Horny isn’t spelled with an ‘I’ or an ‘E’.”

“It’s been so long I thought you’d forget how it's spelled.”

A few hours and a couple of episodes of Temptation Island later, you're back home. The chilly air creeps into the mailroom, numb fingers struggling to unlock your mailbox. Bill. bill, catalogue, not yours, bill…

As the elevator carries you up to your floor, you find the last letter. A gold wax seal, velvety envelope. No. No, no, no, no, no.

But it is real and it’s exactly what you’re afraid for it to be when you rip it open right there in the hallway. The picture of Carson and Sam staring deep into each other’s eyes, love-soaked down to the finest details. His hand on her knee, both oblivious to the camera and not in the faux staged way of so many wedding announcements. 

Michael and Dena Spencer along with 

Jason and Zoya Phan 

Invite you to celebrate the marriage of their children,

Samuel Spencer and Carson Phan

You fling the card away like a venomous snake. 

What the hell is wrong with them? Is it not enough you were the collateral damage in their whirlwind romance? Now they go and rub it in your face how happy they are together. You were the last obstacle to make them realize they couldn’t live without each other, the catalyst for their happiness. And now you have a tangible reminder of the fact.

Thankfully, the hallway is empty so no one witnesses your mental breakdown. A silent stand off with a glossy wedding announcement. You’re tempted to leave it there, let Sam and Carson get trodded on until they’re nothing but limp confetti. 

But you can’t. You snatch the announcement from the floor and bolt to your door, key scraping the lock again and again. You just need to get inside. Get inside and then you can go DEFCON 1, shred the entire letter and do something else rash like give yourself bangs you’ll regret in the morning.

The key still won’t find home in the lock and you’re on the verge of giving up when you realize Seokmin is singing along to some record just a few feet away.

You don’t know him well enough to go banging on his door. One drunken bitch session did not a friend make. Even if the drunk bitch session involved recounting life stories and embarrassing childhood moments. Or pajamas with gingerbread people fucking which he definitely noticed.

But you can’t be left alone with this bomb.

Seokmin is standing before you barely a second after knocking, eyebrows scrunched together. You shove the invite into his chest and wait.

“How does he have your address?” he asks.

You shrug. “I made him mail most of my stuff.”

“Why?” Seokmin turns back into his apartment, the door open in invitation as he falls onto the couch.

“Because he cheated on me. The least I could get was him paying three hundred bucks in shipping.”

“You are a very scary woman.”

You follow. This time, you notice more details. His record player is tucked in the corner, crates of vinyl stacked next to it. The candle burning on the coffee table fills the room with the scent of teak and orange. You recognize it as the same one Lydia got you for your birthday; ‘the boyfriend scent’ as she called it. Of course, he’d have it.

“Thank you.”

Now that you’re here, you’re not sure what to do. Seokmin keeps looking at the invite like some puzzle. Like some underlying explanation is written in invisible ink. There isn’t one. The reason for the invite is clear: your feelings don’t matter and they never did. 

“I can’t believe they sent you a wedding invite. That’s so fucked up.”

“I’m probably gonna see all the pictures on Instagram soon anyway. At least, this ripped the band aid off. It just sucks they get to rub it in my face.”

“You still follow them, do they follow you?”

They do. Carson and Sam both follow you but you haven’t posted a single picture since the break up so it’s not like they’re reminded of your presence. Not the same way they remind you. There hasn’t been much worth posting either. You go to work, come home, shower, sleep, repeat. The occasional weekend at the farmers market or trip to the bookstore breaks up the monotony don’t inspire you to post. 

“Why?” you ask.

“You want something to rub in their faces.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“Is there anything he hated doing while you guys dated?”

You laugh at the irony of the one thing Sam hated more than anything else. “He hated being posted on social media.”

“I have an idea.”

“Does it involve more Celine Dion and whiskey?”

“No,” he smiles. “It’s called a ‘soft launch'. One of the high schoolers explained it to me today.”

“Why are you talking to highschoolers about relationships? Actually, nevermind.” You snatch the invite away from his hands and flip it face down onto the couch. “And what is the point of me soft launching a nonexistent relationship?”

“He sent you a wedding invitation.”

“Okay?”

“So he’s either insane or isn’t completely over you. This is a way to show him you don’t care.”

“He broke up with me on Christmas while I was dying of the stomach flu. I don’t think he cares.”

Seokmin rises from the couch and heads towards the kitchen. “Do you want some wine?”

“Just water.”

He’s wearing the same costume as last week, sweatpants and a sweater. But his hair is a little wet and falls over his glasses. The look, the boyfriend candle, everything Lydia suggested… You should go home before making an idiot of yourself.

Seokmin returns with two glasses, places them both on the coffee table before tossing you a blanket. How can you leave now? It’d be rude. Besides, you want to find out where his offer is going.

“As I was saying: soft launch.”

“I still don’t understand where this is going.”

“You post it on your story, he sees, feels like a huge idiot, and then—”

“And then what? I don’t want him back.” But the thought of making Sam squirm is a validating one. Let him see you the way he’s forced you to see him. Happily moved on with someone else. Even if it isn’t real. “Fuck it. Let’s do it.”

It’s an easy photo. In theory. Nothing too suggestive, nothing that shows his face. But should you be touching? How much touching is appropriate for a man you’ve talked to twice? Seokmin doesn’t seem to know either. He searches the internet for inspo, some far too intimate for you to dream of. Sitting on his lap? Absolutely not. Having him hold you around the waist? No way. None of it would be believable.

“Okay, what about this one?” he asks after twenty minutes of scrolling.

On the surface, it’s nothing bad. The picture is relatively innocent with Person A’s legs draped over Person B’s lap, hand placed on Person A’s shin. Nothing crazy. At this point, you just want it over with.

“Fine.”

You wore semi-decent sweatpants this time so you don’t worry about that. It’s the entire premise of touching Seokmin so casually and having him touch you in return. But you take it in stride as you both maneuver and twist until you're a perfect copy of the already existing image.

Opening the camera on your phone, you snap a pic and hand it to Seokmin for approval.

“Eh…”

“‘Eh’? What does ‘eh’ mean?”

Apparently, ‘eh’ means Seokmin is wrapping his entire hand around your knee, the other hand on your ankle, and pulling you closer until your butt rests flush against the outside of his thigh. And then he doesn’t move either hand while waiting for you to snap a new picture. It feels like a thousand  pounds.

When you’re done, he leans over to assess the photo and you’re stuck with the image of him hovering over you. The picture goes up on your story, embellished with a heart emoji and Seokmin leaves your space but only barely.

“Should I RSVP too?” you joke. It’s weak, your voice thin because you don’t know if he can tell your sweating. 

He leaves even more space between you at that, scratching the back of his neck. “Ugh—”

“I wouldn’t actually go but I like the idea of them wasting money.”

“You know what? Do it. Did they give you a plus one?”

You jolt at the idea of Seokmin filling in the role. Focus. 

Their wedding site is filled with Pinterest inspiration level engagement photos. You ignore the fact it’s at the park Sam took you to for your first date. You don’t own Emerald Park, or the fountain in the background of their pictures where you and Sam first kissed, and you certainly didn’t own the botanical gardens frozen around them as they walked hand in hand. Hundreds of other couples, you and Sam included, visited Emerald Park all the time. It just feels tacky they would do a full photoshoot where half a dozen of your relationship landmarks lay. But Carson probably owned those spots well before you came into the picture.

Once you hit ‘Yes’ on the RVSP, including your fake plus one, things peter out into awkward silence. You’re still draped over Seokmin’s lap, his hands absentmindedly running up your shin, smoothing the wrinkles in your pants.

Who gets turned on from having their shin fondled?

“How is your play going?” you ask.

“Not horrible.”

“But?”

“Our sets are old, we don’t have costumes and we open in three weeks.” 

Seokmin seems to be in the acceptance stage of his grief. At least he isn’t wailing any more Now That’s What I Call Depressing music.

“So it’s not too late for that space idea then?”

He cracks up at that and you feel glowy from the sound of his laugh, the way his chest shakes. He squeezes your ankle. You preen. He still has his hand on your knee, thumb burning uneven circles through the thick fabric.

“I don’t know if anyone wants to see Scrooge in a space suit.”

“Who?”

Seokmin takes the question as a personal affront and decides you can’t leave his apartment without watching at least one version of A Christmas Carol. 

You try not to read into things but there aren’t many explanations available. The TV plays the animated version with Jim Carry starring in almost every role which is apparently second only to the muppets version.. Seokmin popped popcorn. And when he came back to the couch, he pulled your legs back over his lap like it was normal. You’re rusty on dating but the amount of times your hand brushes his in the popcorn bowl is starting to border on ridiculous.

Instead of focusing on how this feels a lot like a date, you focus on the movie. Or try to. It helps that Seokmin remains unaware of your inner turmoil, he’s too busy gauging whether you hate or love the movie and looking for your reaction every time one of the ghosts appears. 

The angle isn’t conducive to watching the movie either. You can’t turn without straining your neck, unless you pull away from his hold which you don’t want to do at all. And Seokmin is so focused on your reactions that he isn’t catching much of the film either.

He clearly loves it, and wants you to love it too. So you act extra interested but it’s not difficult because clearly he sees something spectacular happening on screen and it makes you eager to see it too. Even if only to distract from his thumb slipping beneath your sock and circling the knob of your ankle.

The movie fades to black, Scrooge is redeemed and your neighbor is watching you with bated breath.

“So…”

You smile at his eagerness. “It was good.”

“Isn’t it? It’s a classic.”

Something about his sheer enthusiasm tugs at your heart strings. 

“I’ll help you.”

Everything in your body screeches WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Seokmin must think the same thing, face slack in disbelief. Too late, you’ve already committed. 

“My company is always throwing money at stuff during the holidays,” you rush, face heating. “Maybe they could sponsor you guys to help with the sets or something.”

He keeps staring and you keep talking because you’re not sure if this crosses some invisible line. Unlike the touching, or the picture, or the ugly crying last week. Slowly, amazement rooted on his face.  Even in your rumpled clothes, he looks at you like you’ve dropped nothing short of a miracle in his lap.

In a flurry of motion, Seokmin drags you into a hug, arms tight around your back, crushing you into his chest. The baggy sweaters you’d seen him in all of once hid firm ridges of muscle. You try not to indulge but your hands are wedged tightly between your bodies, and you’re practically sitting in his lap at this point. 

And as fast as it happened, he lets you go and nearly flings himself off the opposite end of the couch. 

“Sorry! I just—” His head cocked to the side. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated—”

“I love taking money from people who don’t need it. It’s one of the few joys in my life actually,” you say. “And if they don’t sign a check, we can always try armed robbery. Do you own a ski mask?”

He pretends to think before smiling. “Funnily enough, I don’t. But something tells me you do.”

“A woman never reveals her secrets.”

The next few days pass uneventfully. You hear Seokmin come home later and later, pointedly aware that you’re aware of his coming and going. Occasionally, when it’s still early, he knocks an odd rhythm on the wall separating your living rooms and you learn it's a summons. He wants to watch a movie, or share dinner because he made too much, or hear something about your day that didn’t involve a six year old attempting an accent for their character and sounding like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins. 

Even when you give him your number, he still knocks. Everytime you fight the urge to squeal like you’re back in high school.

The show is going as well as it can. People have their parts (with minimal complaining). Most of the costumes are free of mold (he sent you pictures wearing half the wardrobe). And Seokmin is maintaining his sanity. Barely.

In the rush of it all, you made a promise not to fuck where you eat. One messy break up requiring a move was enough for a lifetime. While Lydia took every update as another sign he was into you, the risk was too much. What if you misread everything? What if Seokmin wasn’t completely over his ex-girlfriend? She hadn’t come up again since that first night but that didn’t mean anything. At that stage of your break-up you hardly talked about Sam. Maybe Seokmin was still pining for her and you were just there. Or vice versa. He could see you were having a difficult time with the engagement and offered a shoulder to cry on.

Even worse, what if you did sleep with him and it was bad. So bad you could never look him in the eye again. Or he could have a weird dick. Or cry after sex. What if he secretly had a piss kink and that was the real reason Marta broke up with him? The lack of red flags only point to some flaw below the surface you hadn’t learned about yet.

Lydia thought it was ridiculous.

“I will bet my first edition Hobbit that his dick is completely normal,” she huffs through the speaker, the sound of her stationary bike echoing in the background.

Your Friday nights are usually spent curled up on the couch with wine and a movie but you couldn’t wait to give Seokmin the envelope containing a metaphorical golden ticket. The downtown streets are crowded near the theater where the entire cast and crew are spending the evening polishing up the existing set pieces but you brave it, if only to see the look on his face at the number of zeroes on the check.

“You just want me to sleep with him.”

“Is it so wrong I want my best friend to sleep with a nice, attractive man? Do you know how rare those are in this city?”

Your eyes roll. “He is my neighbor.”

“Your hot neighbor. Who has a normal dick and listens to Celine Dion when he’s sad.”

Something stopped you from telling her about the picture, and how Seokmin stayed cuddled up to you the rest of the night. Probably because you know she’d add it to the mounting pile of reasons to ruin whatever tentative friendship built between you. 

You find a parking spot and bid Lydia goodbye.

The building lobby, with sleek marble archways and a dusty chandelier the size of your living room, is empty sans a lone security guard scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t try to stop you as you stroll right past and into the auditorium. You don’t want to be a creep that watches from the dark but the sight of your neighbor stops you in your tracks. To hear about his work was one thing, however, seeing him in his element is another. 

He’s got paint all over his shirt and jeans and his hair is a mess from running his hands through it but he addresses the entire cast with confidence. Answers their questions, points the crew in the right direction, scans his binder next to someone with a headset who must be important. 

Everyone is caught up in their work so they don’t notice as you approach from the aisles, footsteps muffled by the carpeted floors. You’ve never been here before but the history of the building isn’t lost on you. The walls and ceiling stretch high above, intricate moldings weaving up to frame large murals of greek-style motifs. The cushioned seats had seen better days. Red velvet crushed flat, ripped seams and stained with time. But it has a charm to it.

It was easy to imagine Seokmin finding home in this place. Losing himself on stage, spending hours and hours hidden away with a script.

He finally notices your presence when you approach one of the side stage staircases.

“And what do I owe the honor?” he asks, lips unzipping into a grin you can’t help but return.

You wave the white envelope in response, bowing comically low. “I come bearing a gift.”

“Is that—“

You nod solemnly, forcing it into his hands. “Open it!”

Seokmin stares at the envelope the same way he stared at you the night you offered to help him out. A small miracle in the palm of his hand. Your boss signed the check without question. It was a good look to sponsor local events, great publicity and a tax write off. The second you mentioned there were children in the cast and it was volunteer only he doubled the donation.

Seokmin opens the envelope, pausing to read. His eyes bulge. “Two grand? Are you serious?”

“Yep. All it took was the promise of two pages in the back of the program. So if you could get that message passed along.”

He hasn’t looked away from the check as a flush rises up his neck. “I’ll get their logo tattooed on my forehead if they want.”

“Tried that…” you joke. “They went up to two thousand with the promise you wouldn’t..”

“This is…” 

You’re swept into a hug tight enough to pop something in your back. Too tight, with your arms wedged between your chests like the first time but you don’t mind. Seokmin is warm

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chants, spinning you around.

You soak in the contact for as long as you can. Seokmin gives great hugs, better than great. You didn’t realize you craved the firm comfort of his arms until you had it once again and now that you do, you don’t want him to stop.

You notice someone watching over Seokmin’s shoulder. She’s pretty. Dark curly hair, button nose, big doll eyes boiling with indignation. 

“Is that her?” you whisper into his neck.

“Her who?”

“Mrs. Bald dog walker.”

Seokmin loosens his grip just enough to look.  “Yeah. Why?”

You bury your face back into the crook of his and give him a squeeze. Seokmin returns it instinctively, arms slug across the small of your waist like a puzzle piece. 

“Marta isn’t the jealous type,” he whispers.

“Huh, that’s weird.” Your lips purse. “Because she just stormed off.”

Seokmin whips around to look at the now vacant spot where his ex-girlfriend once stood.

“Consider it as my thank you for the soft launch.”

“Did that actually work?” he asks.

You can’t admit you forgot to check if either Carson or Sam looked at your post. Coincidentally enough, you were too wrapped up in thoughts of the man before you to remember the entire reason he touched you so casually that night was for petty revenge and not because he actually wanted to.

“Who cares?” you bluff. “Anyway, I was thinking of another fundraiser. Maybe it can give you guys some money for some updated set pieces.”

They could definitely use it. One of the stagehands staples fabric across a hole in the couch so wide you’d bet money the next person who sits on it would sink straight through to the ground, another slathers a thick layer of white paint on a dry rotted board. What good are new costumes without good props?

“If you keep helping us out, they’re gonna have to change the name of the building.” Seokmin smiles down at you. His hand is still at the small of your back but even through the many layers protecting you from the chill you can feel the heat of his touch.

“I’ve always wanted a theater named after me. Like a Rockefeller or something.”

“So what is this idea?”

You gaze at him expectantly. “How many of your friends are single?”

It took little convincing for your plan. Seokmin turns out to be a bartender and his boss agrees to host it (pending a small cut of the proceeds), and several of his friends volunteer to help a good cause.

You’ve never been to this bar either but it somehow fits him too. Not a complete dive but cozy and well weathered. Multicolored string lights hang from the rafters so thick you can’t even see the ceiling, and posters, neon signs, and other decor obscure the walls. A low platform in one corner clearly meant for live entertainment becomes the auctioneer block with a banner strewn above reading THEATER FUNDRAISER in painted bubble letters.

Most of the people in the crowd are involved in the theater one way or another. Volunteers, cast and crew, a few parents coming for the drink specials and a show. A few outsiders mix in with the batch; regulars, people who saw the chalkboard sign on the street and got curious. Seokmin’s friends linger around the pool table in the corner, nervously shuffling around.

You’re on your way over to finalize the order when Seokmin and Lydia intercept you. 

“Small problem,” he says.

“What?” 

Lydia sighs. “Mingyu has a girlfriend.”

“Since when?” you ask.

“Apparently fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh,” you say. “Good for him.”

“Except we’re a man down.”

“I’ll do it,” Seokmin interjects.

Your gut curls. The idea of someone, not you, going on a date with him leaves a sour note in your mouth. But you’re not in a position to say anything. 

But it doesn’t stop you.

“You can’t!” you blurt.

“Why not?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Lydia looks down right maniacal at your outburst. No way are you going to admit whatever feelings you have for Seokmin right now. 

“Who is gonna be the host if you’re busy?”

“I’ll do it,” Lydia says. There’s a dare in her gaze. She can smell bullshit a mile away. “Unless there’s some other reason Seokmin needs to host.”

She bats her eyelashes with all the innocence of the devil.

“Fine,” you nod.

Lydia snags the mic from Seokmin and bolts for the stage. “Alright, settle in! Tonight we’re raising money for a good cause. So let’s get this show on the road, and remember—no refunds, no takesies backsies, and no funny business! We take Venmo or cash. No checks! Now, first up, we have Seungcheol!”

Seungcheol steps up to the stage, body lax as the crowd eyes him up and down. He was the first person to volunteer when you explained your idea – spawned from many sorority fundraisers in college – to Seokmin. The others followed suit shortly after, giving you six men in total willing to go on a date (no funny business) in the name of supporting the arts.

“Twenty dollars!” a woman in a dark jacket calls.

“At least let me tell you about him before going at him like a piece of meat!” Lydia jokes.

Someone else interjects. “Forty dollars!”

Lydia ignores her. “He enjoys camping, sports, and long walks on the beach,” she reads off the notecard. “And he can fix your car courtesy of Choi Mechanics.”

“Seventy five.”

People keep increasing their bids, Seungcheol clearly enjoying the attention as he jokes and winks towards the more eager ones. He’s preening while you and Seokmin watch in giddy amusement by the pool table, faces hidden in your drinks.

“Two hundred dollars!” someone near the back calls.

“Two fifty!”

“That’s Seungcheol’s girlfriend,” Seokmin whispers from your side.

You try to get a better look but Seungcheol’s girlfriend remains hidden at a table behind several others. 

“Then why is he doing this?”

Seungkwan comes up beside you. “Because they’re exhibitionists.”

“Sold!” Seungcheol yells.

“I’m the one with the gavel,” Lydia objects. She pounds the gavel to emphasize her power. “Sold for two hundred and fifty dollars!”

Seungcheol drops a wad of cash from his own wallet into the bucket at the front of the stage and disappears into the corner of the room where his girlfriend waits. You make a mental note to avoid that side of the bar for the rest of the night, just in case.

The other guys go easy, thriving on the momentum of Seungcheol. Soonyoung gets a date with a woman old enough to be your mother but he looks positively thrilled. Even Mingyu stops by to drop a couple bucks into your hand as an apology. Then it’s Seokmin’s turn.

“He can cook, he’s good with kids, and he makes a mean mojito,” Lydia announces. “Give it up for our favorite bartender, Seokmin!”

The crowd has mellowed out but remains enthusiastic, regulars and theater people alike clapping as he comes forward. Even his boss behind the bar rings a large bell mounted on the wall reserved for good tippers. Someone wolf whistles and Seokmin goes red.

“Let’s start the bidding at thirty bucks,” Lydia says.

“Fifty!” someone calls.

By some feat of the universe, Seokmin transforms into a maroon faced mess.

You look around the bar and spot her at a table close to the edge of the stage. That ugly gut punch from earlier rears its head again at the gleam in her eyes, like she can’t wait to sink her teeth into Seokmin the first chance she gets. You don’t want Seokmin going on a date with her. You don’t want him going on a date with anyone.

Your mouth is open before you realize. “A hundred.”

Seokmin, Lydia, and just about everyone else in the bar whip their head in your direction. You refuse to look at any of them, staring down your competition as she raises her hand to counter.

“One fifty.”

“Two hundred.”

“Three fifty,” she says, smirking at you.

Lydia levels you with expectant looks. Seokmin watches you like you’re a wild animal, unsure of your next move. You’re in too deep now. 

“Four hundred dollars.”

Your competition opens her mouth to rebut; however, Lydia is already swinging the gavel, “Sold! To the beautiful woman in the ugly sweater. Come get your man!”

Seokmin catches your arm before you can open your purse. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s for a good cause. Besides, think of it as a thank you for saving me from spending all my money on take out.”

He stares at you for a second too long, frozen in his own disbelief. You’re lying and you both know it but to admit that him going on a date with someone else, even for a good cause, made you jealous ventures over a line you’re not ready to cross just yet.

“Alright, that was our last man of the night,” Lydia announces into the mic. “Which means we’ve raised a whopping two thousand six hundred dollars for our local theater.”

Everyone cheers once again. The atmosphere is light but the bubble surrounding you and Seokmin is anything but. 

He raises an eyebrow skeptically as you shove bills into the collection bucket, pointedly looking anywhere but him lest your face match the red of his own. It doesn’t matter though. You can feel the heat on your cheeks, the sweat at your hairline. Four hundred dollars to go out with a guy. 

At least it’s for a good cause.

Seungkwan saves you from whatever questions Seokmin has, pushing his friend back to work behind the bar before cornering you into conversation.

“You,” Seungkwan says.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I’m having a pre-game at my house tomorrow night. You’re invited.”

“Oh,” you blink. “I’m not really a partier.”

“It’ll be a small thing. Most of the guys here and my roommate. We’re going to Jane’s after.”

“I’ve never been there before.”

Seungkwan stomps indignantly. “You’ve never been to Jane’s? Jane’s is a neighborhood institution.”

“I guess I never got around to exploring much,” you shrug.

“Why not?”

A creature of habit such as yourself, you rarely went to new places. You liked the places you already knew, the ones you didn’t have to guess if you liked. Besides, you hadn’t felt like going out much in the past few months, something always coming up including reasons, such as: you liked your apartment with cheaper drinks, less cigarette smoke, and no strange men trying to mansplain American Psycho.

Lydia appears at your side, new drink in hand. “Did someone say party?”

“It starts at eight thirty, but don’t come until nine. Seok will give you the address.”

Seungkwan disappears into the crowd, leaving you and Lydia hovering at the edge of the stage all alone. If there was one person besides Seokmin you didn’t want to be left alone with, it was her. But it’s too late to escape.

In the face of total mortification, you try to put on a brave face.

“Four hundred? Really?” Lydia asks.

“Shut up,” you mumble into the cup of melted ice.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’ve met your friends before,” you snort.

Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, but they can be a lot and that’s coming from me.”

You refused to let the car ride on the way over be awkward, plowing through whatever cobwebs lingered between you two. Luckily, Seokmin went along, recalling horror stories from Seungkwan’s yearly holiday pre-game. There was the year Soonyoung attempted making hot cider and gave everyone food poisoning. The year after where Mingyu ended up breaking the bathroom doorknob resulting in the fire department coming out to free him because he got stuck trying to crawl out the window above the shower. And most recently, Jeonghan – who you haven’t met yet – hid under the couch for the sole purpose of grabbing people’s ankles as they walked by; except he fell asleep and Seungkwan found him the next morning while cleaning.

Nothing you couldn’t handle.

“Well, if it's too much I’ll send you some code to leave.”

“What should I be looking for exactly?” he asks, lips quirked.

“I’ll start making ghost noises.”

Seokmin snorts when you start demonstrating. “But that happens so frequently. How about morse code?”

“How about I scream at the top of my lungs?” you grin.

“Works for me.”

Seokmin knocks against the dark wood door leading to Seungkwan’s apartment.

“COME IN!” Seungkwan belts, flinging the door open wide. “For me?”

You hand over the bottle of wine with flourish. Heaven forbid you show up anywhere empty handed, a habit hammered in by your mother. “For you.”

Seungkwan pulls you inside. “I like you more and more. Come on, everyone else is already here.”

The doorway leads straight into the crowded living room. You recognize Seungcheol, a woman his same height tucked into his side as they chat with Lydia on the couch. Coincidentally, she lives two floors above Seungkwan and Vernon and was thrilled to discover mailroom guy had a name and good taste in music.

You quickly scan beneath the couch for any full grown men and are mildly disappointed to find none.

Seokmin gets caught up in ‘hellos’ while you pad down the hallway after Seungkwan; into the kitchen where Mingyu stirs something on the stove.  Cocoa and vanilla flood your nose, the warmth of the kitchen driving away the lingering chill from outside. Seungkwan puts the wine on the counter before pulling mugs out of the cabinets. 

“What’s this?” you ask.

“Spiked hot chocolate,” Mingyu says. He adds a splash of peppermint schnapps to the pot and starts stirring again before pouring two mugs: one for you and one for Seokmin. “There’s whipped cream over there.”

You’re shaking the can of whipped cream when an arm reaches over your shoulder and pulls it out of your grip.

“Just say when,” Seokmin says.

He piles a comical mountain of whipped cream into your mug, and then a matching one on his own. There are sprinkles as well as chocolate shavings and you both artfully decorate your drinks with handfuls of each.

“I think we have more whipped cream than hot chocolate,” you say.

“There’s no such thing as too much whipped cream.” 

You both take a long sip and when he’s done you choke. He’s got whipped cream on his nose, his lips, and his cheeks. 

“What?” Seokmin asks.

“You’ve got,” you laugh. “Let me help.”

He stands perfectly still as you wipe his face with a paper towel. You’ve been this close to Seokmin before but with amusement instead of nerves clouding your system, you notice details you hadn’t before. The mole of his cheek. Two. One a little more pronounced than the other. Cute.

“Alright, all done,” you announce, finally noticing the way he stares down at you softly. So much for not having any nerves. “C’mon, I wanna see if Jeonghan is hiding under the couch before we leave.”

You lead him out of the kitchen, looking for anyway to cut the tension—

“KISS!” Lydia demands. 

You scan the room for who she’s screaming at in an apartment full of strangers only to find her finger pointed straight above your head.

Mistletoe.

Mingyu barrels out of the kitchen to join in on the chaos.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” they all chant. Soonyoung cups his hands around his mouth and belts it loud enough your heart lurches. 

“We don’t have to,” Seokmin whispers, cheeks and ears bright red.

“It’s fine.”

You plan for a quick peck on the cheek but Seokmin goes for his left while you go for your left and you’re not kissing but something dangerously close to it. The sticky residue of sugar and chocolate registers against your lips, a little bit of stubble missed when he shaved this morning. Barely a second of contact, just the edge of his mouth against yours but the world spins backwards and you nearly fall over. 

As fast as it happens, you both draw back, staunchly avoiding eye contact but staying pressed close.

Seokmin wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you against his check. “You okay?”

His breath skims over your lips. The temptation to roll on to your toes and kiss him for real sends your heart racing. Your chin lifts. Seokmin looks at your mouth. And…

“Who's ready to party?” Chan calls, breaking the atmosphere. 

The walk to Jane’s is nothing short of hell. Snow falls in thin sheets, frigid air sneaking past the lining of your coat and straight into your bones. In the middle of the pack you aren’t as exposed thanks to Seokmin to your right, Lydia on the other side, and a gaggle of the others walking in front. 

Your hand keeps accidentally brushing Seokmin’s, sending a rush of pins and needles up your arm each time. You both pretend to ignore it.

The barren street outside the bar doesn’t hint at what waits within except for the dull hum of life sneaking past the door. It feels like half the city is packed inside, forcing everyone to slither past each other because there is simply no room. 

Seungkwan wasn’t lying when he said it was a neighborhood institution. A stage is set up at the far wall, drunks belting their hearts out. Your group fans out to the bar, snagging drinks before taking the pilgrimage to a small table near the stage. Seokmin keeps you close the entire time. Guiding you to a seat, insisting on standing right behind the chair and talking to his friends over your shoulder.

You sag in your seat, content to soak in everyone else's conversations. The edge of your mouth still burns from the contact of the kiss, the same sensation everywhere Seokmin touches. You crave more. Like a sunflower searching for the sun. You lean against the back of the chair for a chance to feel his chest against your back. He doesn’t shy away when you do either. You can’t see his face but Lydia sits across the table watching with a pleased smirk. 

“A toast,” Seokmin starts as the song fades and the next group to the stage. Someone wrangled a tray of red and green shots to the table and Seungkwan passes them around. “To Y/N. We wouldn’t have a show without her.”

“Yes, you would,” you correct.

“But we wouldn’t have new costumes,” says Seungkwan. “Do you know how old the costumes we were gonna wear are?”

“And we have new sets. We haven’t bought a new set piece in like fifty years,” Chan interjects. 

Soonyoung speaks up next. “And I got a date!”

Seokmin slings an arm over your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. “You’re a miracle worker.”

Cheeks hot, you hide your smile at the bottom of the shot glass.

Focus shifts as Soonyoung, Seokmin, and Seungkwan take the stage for “No Scrubs” the entire bar signs along to. They’re born performers. Soaking in every minute of attention, riling the crowd up until your ears go numb.

You try not to think of the almost kiss but it’s hopeless. Two drinks down and the only thing on your mind is the eclectic feeling on his mouth on your skin. 

You’re so deep in your thoughts, you don’t notice Seokmin has come back to the table with a new drink for you until he’s nudging your shoulder with his.

“How do you like it?”

“Way better than the depression playlist,” you joke.

“Celine Dion is a classic.”

“Yeah, but after the first five times she loses her edge.”

Seokmin shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Blasphemy.”

Vernon and Seungkwan are singing Crazy in Love. Or, Seungkwan is singing and Vernon is head banging to the beat. Just watching makes your neck hurt.

Someone bumps into you from behind, sending you reeling straight into Seokmin’s chest.

“Woah, you okay?”

You nod into his chest but don’t let go. 

The shots earlier were a mistake. Seokmin looks good under the neon lights of the bar, better with the swirly haze of alcohol. You want to kiss him so bad it’s embarrassing.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice husky.

When you look up at him, something dances across his face. There and gone before you can figure out what it is. Home sounds like a great idea. Better to lock yourself in your apartment where your mind can run wild before you do something stupid – like drag Seokmin into a corner to make out – in front of all your new friends.

You step out of his grip. “I can get home on my own. You don’t have to come with me.”

“I’m good to go. Promise.”

Not willing to brave a thirty minute walk home in the snow, Seokmin orders an Uber while you say goodbye.

Once outside, Seokmin wraps his arm back around you. Away from prying eyes, you let yourself indulge with the excuse of sharing body heat. Friends share body heat all the time. There is nothing wrong with a platonic penguin huddle.

Too soon, he pulls away as a car pulls up to the curb. “This is us.”

Seokmin makes conversation with the driver while you stare out the window as the city whips by. He’s just being nice, treating you the same way he would all his friends. Touching and almost kissing aside, Seokmin is your friend and you don’t want to jeopardize it with complications.

“YN?”

“Huh?’

“We’re home.”

You stumble through the cold, Seokmin hot on your heels through the lobby and into the elevator. It’s a fragile type of silence between you. 

“I’ll see you later?”

“Night,” Seokmin says.

“Goodnight, Seok,” you murmur back, pushing open your door.

“Fuck,” he curses. “I left my keys at Kwan’s.”

“Should we call them?”

You invite Seokmin into your apartment while he tries to get ahold of his friends. Shinx offers timid emotional support by curling up in his lap, purring loudly as scratches under her chin. Now you’re jealous of a cat. 

How dmbarrassing.

Calling proves futile. Seungkwan’s phone goes straight to voicemail and Vernon doesn’t answer either. He tries texting them with the same results.

“You can sleep on the couch,” you offer.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna impose.”

“I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re sitting in the hall all night,” you say. “Let me get you a blanket.”

In your room, you quickly change out of your bar clothes and into pajamas. It takes some time to dig out a pair of sweats and a tshirt that’ll fit Seokmin but you eventually find something for him. Snagging a pillow from your bed and an extra blanket from the linen closet. you head into the living room.

You force the clothes into his chest. “Here. Get changed and I’ll make your bed.”

A dark look glazes his face and for a second you think he might kiss you. Or you hope he’s thinking about it half as much as you are. But the moment passes. He locks himself in your room while you busy making the lumpy, itchy couch somewhat comfortable for him. 

“Wanna watch a movie?”

You settle on Krampus. Neither of you have seen it but even after tonight you doubt you’d be able to recall a single detail. Seokmin pulls your legs over his lap like second nature, covering you both in the blanket, his hands resting on your shin. Choosing shorts over pants was a mistake. The heat of his thigh against the back of yours makes you squirm. The calluses on his palms scratch an itch leading straight between your legs as he rubs up and down absentmindedly, never trailing higher than your knee.

You’re shaking. His hand squeezes and you nearly heave.

“Cold?” 

No.

But you nod anyway. 

Seokmin pulls another blanket off the back of the couch, carefully layering it over the first, tucking you in tight before putting his arms back over your legs.

“You know, you’re a really good guy, Seok.”

“Thanks.”

It’s shameful. How bad you want to kiss him, for him to kiss you. 

“I mean it.”

“I don’t know if it's true though.”

Instead of asking what he means, you lean closer. Then Seokmin does too. You’re too busy staring at his mouth to notice him doing the same. All your thoughts hone in on if he was as good a kisser as you imagined. And if you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? If you touched him, would he touch you too?

Someone moves first. It doesn’t matter who because his nose nudges against yours, then you're swallowing his sigh, and you both practically melt at the relief. 

It’s better than anything you could have cooked up in your head. His lips are soft, the rough pads of his fingers gentle as he tips your chin. You like it. You like him. 

Your lips catch on his bottom lip by accident but it's the first domino to topple into a chain reaction. Seokmin’s lips part, your hands bury in his hair. His thumb hones in on the strip of skin between your top and your shorts. You maneuver into his lap, fingers cataloguing the expanse of his shoulders, his neck. Back into his hair. Close as you are, it isn’t close enough. You arch into him, dragging your lips across the line of his throat when his head falls back.

His hands are everywhere. The small of your waist, the base of your spine, lifting your shirt until it’s tossed to the floor and your topless in his lap, shaking with anticipation.

“Fuck,” he mumbles. His eyes lock on your nipples, tight from just a few light touches.

Seokmin pulls you back down, kissing you slow and heavy while his hands touch you with gentle reverence. 

Clothes come off. The borrowed sweater he’s wearing reveals so much skin you don’t know where to start. But Seokmin doesn’t let you linger too long because he’s taking off your bottoms until you’re completely naked. Seokmin eases his body over yours, heavy between your thighs. 

A particularly harsh pass of his hips pulls a wire down your spine, back arching painfully, moaning at the ceiling. 

“Ha,” you waver under his teeth, his tongue worshiping your chest, leaving broad strokes you imagine will feel amazing on other parts of your body. Head tipped back, you display yourself openly for him to touch and tease.

“Take your pants off,” you beg.

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” he says, mouthing against the sensitive spot below your jaw. His smile is clear. “We don’t have to do anything.”

You make a sound between a whine and a grunt. You want to have sex with him. Right here, on your shitty couch. But you aren’t willing to take the risk, no matter how badly you want it. Even if he does have a weird dick which you doubt based on the feeling of it against your naked cunt.

“You think my dick is weird?” he asks, half shocked and half amused.

“No! I—” you scramble. “I don’t think your dick is weird.”

“But you’ve thought about my dick?”

“I’m not supposed to.”

Seokmin grins, clearly amused. “Why not?”

“Because you’re my neighbor.”

“Oh.” He rushes to rise off you, kneeling between your spread legs. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

“I do want to. That's the problem,” you whine.

He hums in acknowledgment, body shaking with barely suppressed giggles. 

You thrash. “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not, I've just…never had someone be so eager.”

He kisses you like he’s the eager one, tongue tracing your bottom lip until you welcome him in with a lewd suck. It only lasts for a second before he’s back down your chest and then kneeling in front of the couch, nuzzling the meat of your thigh while his fingers stroke against your wetness timidly.

“Is this okay?”

“Yep!” you choke. “Great.”

Your legs verge on numbness from being bent in half for so long but Seokmin keeps finding those spots that make it worth it. You need something to hold onto; his hair, the cushions, your own breasts. Seokmin seems to love that the most. Grunting into your pussy as he watches with reverence as you play with yourself.

“Taste so good,” he rasps. “You’re so hot.”

Fingers thrusting, Seokmin strings you out. When he crooks the digits buried deep inside you, your back breaks in half. The hand pinning your waist down holds tights, the lean muscles flexing in your view. 

“J-just like that,” you hiccup. 

He never falters. Seokmin does exactly as you ask until you curl and come wet and hot on his face with a cry. It’s not until you push him off that he stops completely, rubbing the mess of his fingers on his pants and crowding you back into the couch cushion to taste yourself off his tongue. 

You moan against his mouth. “Wanna taste you.”

“I’m good.”

“I want to,” you beg.

“No like—”

You paw at his crotch only for the enticing hardness to be absent. He’s soft. Confusion furrows your brows for a brief second until the rosy tint to his cheeks registers. 

Seokmin hides in the crook of your neck, sigh ruffling your hair as he gets cozy in the warm space and allows his nose to trace the curve of your shoulder. “It usually doesn’t happen like that. I don’t—”

“That's so hot,” you mumble. The heat of his body combined with an orgasm and the last bit of your blood lulls you closer to sleep with every second.  

Seokmin tugs your shirt back over your head before pulling you close, his bare chest against your back, legs tangled beneath a quilt. Pure content tickles across your senses, followed by the warm drag of sleep.

Seokmin is gone by the time you wake up.

Shuffling from the couch into the bedroom, you accept he probably left early to get his keys from Seungkwan and didn’t want to wake you. Your head pounds in time with your pulse, stomach turning at the thought of getting off the couch. Thank God he didn’t try to wake you. There’s nothing less attractive than wanting to lay on the floor and wait for the sweet release of death.

The second time you wake up is to the sound of Shinx shredding a scrap of paper at the foot of your bed.

“You bastard,” you groan.

A set of large eyes stares back at you for a moment, before she meows and gets back to work on her kill. You nudge her off the edge of the bed with your foot. She bolts for the living room while you hide back into the pillows until it’s dark outside once again.

When you start feeling human enough to shower and eat, you check your phone. A text from Lydia and a few other notifications greet you but none from Seokmin. Not a call, or a text, or anything. Complete radio silence.

You hear him come home, the shuffle of his feet down the hallway and the slam of his front door. But there's no singing; not even so much as a hum. No knocking on the shared wall. You can’t hear a single thing from his side even when – embarrassingly – you press your ear against the wall like an eavesdropper. 

It’s like that for days.

Seokmin leaves his apartment after you get home. Or when you come back from work you hear him rush to turn down his music like he wants you to believe he’s out. He’s avoiding you. And you don’t know why.

You’ve thought about trying to catch him in the act; waiting by the door and popping out to ask him what his problem is. But you’re not sure if you want the answer to that question. He probably regrets kissing you. He definitely regrets kissing you if he's acting like this. But you don’t want to rush to conclusions either. The show opens Friday night and being director requires all hands on deck. Seokmin probably doesn’t even have time to brush his teeth let alone think about whatever it is between you too. Add the fact the actor for Scrooge broke his leg just before the auction and the only person comfortable enough with the role is also directing, he’s under a lot of pressure.

But none of the reassuring thoughts get you to leave the house the night of the show.

It wasn’t as if you had to be there. You helped fundraise but you weren’t cast or crew so your attendance was optional, even if there were two tickets waiting for you at willcall. Missed calls and texts rack up on your phone screen. Lydia, Seungkwan, Chan… But none from Seokmin. You should have turned your phone off to avoid the fall out from ditching. 

Instead, you accidentally pick up Lydia’s call. 

“Where are you?” Lydia screeches through the speaker. “The show's about to start.”

“I’m…I’m sick.”

You even fake cough but Lydia doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“Get your ass down here or I swear to god I’ll drag you by your hair.”

“Why would I go? He hasn’t talked to me all week?”

“So? Who cares!” she huffs, “You worked really hard to make sure this all got done. They wouldn’t have costumes or a set without everything you did. Forget Seokmin, come see it for yourself.”

“I—”

“Listen. Whatever happened between you two happened. But don’t let that chase you away from this. We can plot revenge tomorrow but tonight you should celebrate how hard you worked to make this happen.”

“Alright.”

You race to dress somewhat appropriately. Sweater, leggings, and a nice coat are all you can manage if you want to make it before intermission ends. It’s a miracle you’re not pulled over for speeding or running through yellow lights at the last minute but you get downtown in record time.

The street outside the theater is quiet, fog rising from the damp pavement. Through the glass doors into the theater, people mill about. You missed the first half of the show but there’s still time.

Lydia waits on the steps, exhaling a foggy breath when she finds you.  “Thank god.”

“How's it so far?”

“Good. I can’t believe I’ve never come to one of these before.” She types furiously on her phone before locking it and tossing it back into her purse. “The costumes look so good.”

The theater is packed to the brim, the lobby practically bursting at the seams as people chat through intermission. The costumes look better than good and so do the sets. Seokmin plays a more than convincing Scrooge, even better than the ones you’ve seen in the million movie versions of the play you’ve watched together. There’s no way he can see you with the bright stage lights but more than once it feels like he’s staring right where you sit, looking for someone. Looking for you.

Your eyes remain glued to the stage, unable to blink just in case you miss a second. It's dizzying watching him perform, as if you're staring up at the sky for too long and starting to feel unmoored; like you can't look away, can't accept that something so captivating exists.

After another hour, the lights go up, the cast take their bows. Without warning, you’re blinking into a harsh spotlight.

“Stand up,” Lydia whispers, prodding your side.

“What the hell is going on?”

“This production wouldn’t have been possible without Y/N. We’re so thankful for someone like her.”

You smile awkwardly and wait for the clapping to die down as the spotlight moves back to the stage. The second it's over, you’re up the aisle and into the lobby.

Straight into Seungkwan, who is subtly guarding the door like he knew you’d run at the first chance.

“You’re coming to the after party, right?” he asks.

Other people start filtering in from the auditorium. Maybe, you can lose him in the chaos and go home. 

“Of course she is,” Lydia interjects. Her arm weaves through yours, a firm threat that she’ll drag you if she has to.

The after party is for cast and crew of legal drinking age at Jane’s. Lydia and Seungkwan ride with you, another silent threat looming in the air.  They chat the entire way, undeterred by your silence. It's nice having friends that care but all you want is to hide under a blanket on your couch and spend the rest of the night crying while Shinx watches you with unveiled disgust.

Outside the bar, you promise one drink, claiming that you really are sick and want to go home. Which might be true. You’re off kilter, head spinning, stomach twisted into untangleable knots. But that might be because you can hear Seokmin’s laugh as you enter and your muscles twitch to dive beneath a table until he leaves.

You manage to find a stool in the corner. Even in an attempt to remain unseen more than half the bar stops by to thank you; crew members you haven’t met or cast you’ve seen in passing. Lydia stays by your side throughout, a steady presence as you lose yourself in the party. You can almost forget who is floating around the outskirts of the bar like a ghost. 

“Vernon sent me to ask if you want to play pool,” Seungkwan says to Lydia.

She sends you a sideways glance. Not asking for permission but like you’re a kid she can’t leave alone.

“Go,” you say, brushing her away. “I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t leave without telling me.”

“I’m leaving right now,” you tell her.

“Fine,” she sighs. Then she pulls you into a hug. Lydia isn’t a hugger, in the years you’ve known her you can count on your fingers the number of times it’s happened. “But you should clear the air before you go.”

“I live next to him. There are plenty of opportunities.”

She gives you an extra squeeze, fully aware you’ll continue pretending he doesn’t exist until everything smooths over and you and Seokmin are back to neighbors who tolerate each other's existence in fragile silence.

Which would work if the second you turn around to leave you don’t run straight into him.

He rubs the side of his head. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say. “Can we talk?”

He nods before turning to leave the bar, not waiting to see if you follow but you do. 

The party inside the bar echoes out onto the snowy street. It seems no one else is crazy enough to have an overdue conversation in a snowstorm, but better here than anywhere else. At least after Seokmin lets you down, you can run back to your apartment and pretend he doesn’t exist anymore.

Seokmin stands a few paces away, barely illuminated in neon signs and string lights strewn across the street. You aren’t drunk, not even tipsy. Alcohol would make this conversation worse but it’d take the edge off your nerves and dull a little bit of the cold.

You shove both hands in your pockets, unsure what to say now that you have him all alone.

“The play was good.”

“Thanks. Next time you’ll have to see the first act.”

It comes out like a joke but you can feel the vitriol like a bucket of ice water. Ouch.

“I—”

“If you’re not over your ex it’s okay,” he winces. “We can stay friends.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Sam. You still have feelings for him. It’s fine if you do, I get it. I’m not mad or anything I just thought…”

“I am over Sam.”

“Well, congrats on getting over him I guess,” Seokmin shrugs but his grin is forced. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“Are you serious?” you scoff, venom stinging the tip of your tongue. 

His face glazes with annoyance. “What else is there?”

“Why did you leave?”

“I had work.”

You want to smack to frown off his face. 

“But you didn’t text me or leave a note. I woke up and you were gone and then didn’t hear anything from you.”

“I did leave a note. You iced me out,” he argues.

“Where? Because from where I’m standing you left as soon as you could and then ignored me like it never happened.”

“My phone died so I left a note on the counter. And you never texted me or anything so I thought you were trying to let me down easy.”

He left you a note. The shredded paper on your bed…

“Oh my god,” you gasp, ire evaporating. “Shinx.”

“Your cat?”

Laughter bubbles out of your throat, so thick you choke on your next words. “I think she ate your note.”

The realization hangs in the air, Seokmin froze as your words sink in. He stares at you for a moment, still recovering from the absurdity of it all, before he finally exhales a long breath.

“I thought she liked me,” he whines, face lit up with the beginning of a smile. 

“Shinx is loyal to no one.”

His body meets yours, like cards precariously leaned against one another to prevent a topple as you both shake with laughter. The cold of the street disappears in the warmth of his touch. 

“You’re not that kind of guy. I know that. I shouldn’t have—”

“I could’ve texted you after I went to Kwan’s,” he interjects. 

“I could’ve called you.”

Seokmin’s gaze roams across your face. “How about we start over?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, closing the scant amount of space left between your bodies. 

“Me too.”

Your lips brush against his, the faintest contact sending a storm of butterflies through your stomach. You’re both smiling too much for it to count as a real kiss but neither of you seem to care. His hand slips around the back of your neck, holding you closer just for a moment longer.

Seokmin convinces you to stay at the bar for a few more hours. He holds your hand, keeps you under his arm, looks at you after each joke to make sure you’re laughing too. Seokmin is nothing like Sam. You’ve known that all along but the fear lingered and you refused to acknowledge it. He’s someone you actually could fall for if you let yourself. 

He might hurt you but the potential for something great outweighs the bad in spades.

As the night drags on, you end up closer; sitting on his laps, his hands protectively wrapped around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder and you lean back against him. The slow burn between you roars to a boil when you trace mindless shapes against his palm, Seokmin’s breath shaky in his chest.

“Ready to go home?” he whispers huskily. His breath rushes down your neck, goosebumps bloom in its wake. 

You shift closer – the seam of your jeans only further worsening your arousal – and nod.

Once outside, you’re tangled in each other once again, limbs indecipherable. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Seokmin orders an Uber and immediately focuses back on you the second he can. You catch a text on his screen before he can lock his phone. Seokmin holds you the same as before but it’s different this time. You’re both waiting for the damn to break and the flood to wash away whatever tension lingers between you. 

[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: do not fuck this up

[10:56PM] Mr. Boo: lydia said she would kill you and i think she’s serious

The cab ride home is a blur. You’re focused on not scandalizing the drive while Seokmin keeps a hand firmly on your knee, perfectly proper if it wasn’t for the grit in his jaw when you return the touch just high enough for your pinky to graze his zipper. 

The second the car stops, you throw the door open and pull Seokmin out and inside the lobby, straight to the elevator where he grabs your waist and uses the leverage to kiss you with so much heat you sweat.

He tries pressing you into the wall but you beat him to the punch, crowding him into the corner, front flush with him from head to toe. Seokmin groans, pushing back as you grind over his thigh. One of you pushes the button to your floor.

When the doors open, he gains the upper hand. Tugging you down the hall, he bypasses your door and goes straight for his own. He fumbles with the keys from the way you suck at his pulse but after a few tries he succeeds, pulling you inside and pressing you into the wall of the hallway.

“I like you,” he admits, rushing to unzip your coat and stuff his freezing hands inside, curling them against your waist. “This isn’t just sex.”

You nod dumbly. “I know. I like you, too.”

“And we should – hmmm – go on a date sometime.”

“Okay,” you rasp. 

His thigh slots back between yours. All those memories of his mouth and fingers rush to the forefront, teasing you with the fantasy of Seokmin on his knees right here, eating you out next to his front door. 

He presses hard against your core, fingers tracing the seam of your pants. Your hands reach beneath his shirt; pulling, squeezing. Nails digging into his tense stomach with each bump against your covered clit.

“Seokmin,” you whimper.

You're pulled off the wall. A trail of clothing is left in your wake to his room. Hats, coats, sweaters, undershirts. Seokmin manages to keep his pants on but allows you to unbutton them for a weak handjob over his briefs.

“God,” he exhales close to your ear.

In all the nights you two have hung out you’ve never been in his room. You try to take in as many details as possible but Seokmin dedicates himself to driving you insane with his lips on your neck, gently nipping and sucking until you shiver.

If you had any foresight this was going to happen then you would have at least picked matching underwear. But he seems thrilled as he crowds you into the bed. 

His mouth replaces his hand, lapping at your nipple, completely disregarding the fabric of your bra, before sucking it into his mouth. The hand that was on your chest dips beneath your panties. Fingertips circle your clit, gliding through the wet mess, dipping shallowly inside you.

Your hips rut into the touch. You want more. Need more. And you know Seokmin can give you what you need.

You guide his mouth to your neglected nipple, pushing the cup out of the way and arching as he gives it the same attention. “Please.”

“I got you,” he promises.

Seokmin melts down between your legs, kneeling at the side of the bed; one on his shoulder, the other pressed up your chest. Your hands bury in his hair as he licks a long strip up your core. Each pathetic sound fleeing your lips is rewarded with a deeper curl of his fingers, a harsher lap of his tongue. He leaves wet kisses on your thighs, spreading the mess of arousal and spit before diving back.

You squeeze tight on his fingers. “O-oh, oh fuck.”

Your hips stutter into his mouth. It washes over you, muscles clenched so hard it hurts. The way your heels dig into his back must hurt too but you don’t care. Neither does Seokmin. He doesn’t stop as you claw at him, following that inferno scorching through every tissue, begging him to keep going until you wilt into the sheets.

The ceiling comes slowly into focus, dots floating across your vision. You’re sweating despite the chill hanging in the air. Thankfully, Seokmin blankets you in his heat as he kisses across your hips, then your sternum, then buries his face into your neck. Your shivers have nothing to do with the cold.

“Wow,” you pant. 

Seokmin’s face cracks into a tired grin. Fatigue ghosts over the room but you're not done yet. The weight of his cock between your legs demands attention, and you’re all too eager to touch him.

He doesn’t object when you push him onto his back, or to the trail of soft kisses down his front, allowing you to mark up the smooth expanse of his chest and belly how you see fit. You savor the warmth of his body with each touch. Allow your fingers to gently wash away each press of your lips and warm him up for what's to come.

You suck the head of his cock through the fabric, teasing him with your tongue until the taste of pre-cum floods your mouth. 

He sinks into the bed. A hand finds its way into your hair, unsure if he wants to pull you off or sink deeper into the heat of your mouth, even if it is just a tease. You tug his underwear out of the way and continue torturing him. Thrilled by the way his stomach tense with each desperate whine from the way your tongue traces every ridge.

He gently guides you back and forth, taking the strain off your neck as you take more and more before he pulls you off. “Wait, shit.”

“What–”

“I was gonna come,” Seokmin explains, pulling you up his chest to drop placating kisses against your chin.

“That’s okay,” you smile. “I want you to.”

“But I want to fuck you.”

“Next time?”

“Fuck yes, next time,” he pants as he rolls you on to your back.

He keeps his mouth on yours, tongue sliding hotly against your own while blindly searching for a condom in the bedside table. 

Your hips angle and so do his, a little wiggle and then he’s inside you and it ruins your life. Just the first inch seals your eyes shut, vision filled with stars. You can feel everything; full in a way you’ve never felt before.

Seokmin draws back timidly, allowing you both to watch the way your body takes him so easily.

Somehow he manages to rock deeper, stretch you at just the right angle. Surges right into that spot that curls your chest tight with rough fluidity. The muscles in your thighs are at war with whether to spread wider or squeeze around his waist.

“I wanna ride you.”

There are so many things you want to do with him. To him. But you start with this, taking command of his lap, sinking back on his dick with another tight stretch; glowing as Seokmin watches slack-jawed.

“God, you’re perfect,” he praises.

You fuck yourself on him, knees digging into the mattress as you grind back and forth and all Seokmin can do is watch. A loose grip on your hips as his face glazes over. Your thighs cramp but the way he looks against the pillows, hazy around the edges, hair flat at one side and wild on the other, encourages you to finish what you started.

“Touch me,” you beg.

His neck goes red, ears too, when his hand wedges back between your thighs. “Wanna see you come again. Fuck, you’re so pretty when you come for me.”

Your hips cant wildly, stuttering under his free flowing praise. Too full, too much. You nearly scramble off his lap to snatch at your sanity drifting away.

He kisses you gently, sweet praise ghosting over your lips. “That’s it. Just like that.”

You’re not even moving. Seokmin works your clit raw, fucks up into you with limited motion as you choke on another orgasm that leaves you wet at the eyes and the room spinning. 

“U-ugh. Fuck,” you shiver, collapsing into his chest.

“Can,” he chokes. “Can I—”

An imperceivable dip of your chin and Seokmin rolls you back over and flattens your thighs open; hard rushes of his hips, stomach taunt.

“Come for me. Want you to come inside me,” you sigh. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” he chants as he shakes beneath your hands before slumping over.

You rebound faster than Seokmin; he’s almost snoring against your chest as you rake a hand through the tangled mess of his hair, melting under the weight on your lips against his hairline.

“You’re pretty when you come, too,” you tease. 

He swats your hand away, rising off you to dispose of the condom in the bathroom before rushing back into bed to clean you with a washcloth. When he’s done, he throws it into some forgotten corner of the room where the rest of your clothes hide and dives under the covers with you in tow. 

Your limbs lace with his, all nude skin on skin. 

“I would like to take you out for real sometime,” Seokmin whispers.

“Good thing I have a four hundred dollar date to cash in on.”

“You know,” he smiles into your cheek. “You could have asked me for free.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @/miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @wobblewobble822

@futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin

@isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy @lukeys-giggle

@aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee  @bokk-minnie

@cookiearmy  @moonlightwonu @kyeomofhearts

@melonacco @lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope

@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @champagnenoona

[eoieopda]

triple-dog dare | lsm

“Bambi.”

The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

pairing: lee seokmin x reader summary: when you're left off the guest list to seokmin's parent's thirtieth anniversary party, you're content to keep your questions to yourself and stay home. seokmin, on the other hand, is not content. in fact, he pulls the one card he knows will always win. au: childhood best friends to lovers genre: fluff, angst, smut type: one-shot rating: 18+ only. minors do not have my consent to interact. wc: 13k cw: pov switches, complicated sibling dynamics (seokmin’s), there is in fact one (1) bed, halmonis gone wild, stupid childhood nicknames, fingering (v), oral sex (m receiving), multiple orgasms, implied penetrative sex (p in v). reader notes: afab, uses she/her pronouns, wears a dress/heels to the party, is implicitly an only child. the setting is intentionally ambiguous, so she's not implicitly korean and/or asian. there are no descriptions of body shape/size, complexion, etc. a/n: thank you to the incomparable @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this! it's been a long damn time since i've written anything, so this might not have seen the light of day without jo, the hype-man. on that note, i suck at summaries; just read the fic, lmao. svt masterlist. svt permanent taglist. multi permanent taglist.

For being the walking disaster that he is, there have been shockingly few moments in Lee Seokmin’s life where he’s needed to shove his oversized foot into his oversized mouth.

Prior to the incident at your apartment, the last time he’d embarrassed himself like this was when he’d asked his oldest sister, Soyeon, in earnest whether or not she was pregnant, only to learn that she was just bloated; and he’s just an ass.

To your credit, you’re far from cruel when he slips up, but that almost makes it worse. You visibly deflate when he asks his well-intentioned but ill-fated question, rather than letting him have it the way his two siblings would have done.

The day in question went like this:

He asked, “Did you reserve your room yet for the 31st? If not, we can double up. It’ll be a lot cheaper.”

And you blinked, stunned like you’d been slapped. “Have I what?”

It dawned on you both at that moment that, for whatever reason, his parents’ thirtieth anniversary party was in fact news to you. Two things then happened at once: you tried to hide your surprise and the twinge of pain that comes with being excluded; and he racked his stupid brain to find any explanation for why you had to feel either one of those things.

The best option he found was to gently toss his middle sister, Seonmi, under the metaphorical bus. 

“Seonmi’s been working on something special for them. You know how she gets,” he waved dismissively. “So obsessed with finding the perfect napkins — ” He wiggled his fingers for emphasis. “— and creating custom cocktails, that she misses the forest for the trees.”

You didn’t look convinced. Likewise, you didn’t look any less uncomfortable.

Fuck.

“I’m sure it was an honest mistake.” To drive his point home, he reached from his spot on your couch to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. “I have a plus-one, so it’s not like it’ll be a logistical problem. You belong there as much as we do.”

And he meant it, wholeheartedly. 

All his life, the running joke has been that Soonyi and Minseok Lee have four kids: two biological daughters, a younger son, and his otherwise unrelated twin, who spent more time sleeping on his top bunk than in her own home next door. 

The way he saw it — and the way he’s sure his parents would see it — is that no family gathering is complete without you. That’s a hill he’d die on if need be.

You shifted in your seat, which caused his hand to slip off your knee, whether or not you meant for it to happen. Glancing uneasily out your window, you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, mumbling, “I don’t know…”

Seokmin frowned. You didn’t see it, though, and therefore weren’t moved by it. Instead, you cycled through your anxious thoughts at high velocity. If he was still touching you, he’d be worried that your sparking brain might catch him on fire.

“What if it’s not a mistake? I mean, what if it’s a couples thing?” 

He couldn’t even classify these questions as rhetorical because he wasn’t meant to hear them in the first place. Though you asked out loud, each one of them was for your ears only. From his half of the couch — miles away — his frown deepened, unbeknownst to you.

“You know, Seonmi follows me on Instagram; she’d know that Kai and I broke up a few months ago. Maybe she doesn’t want me to feel awkward? Even if I went, and I didn’t feel weird about that, her expecting it to be weird might make it weird, right?”

Fuck.

You’d spiral all day if Seokmin didn’t stop you. As much as he loves how thoughtful you are, he knows better than most that you have a tendency to take it too far, inflicting that relentless consideration on yourself until it wounds. 

“Bambi.”

The sternness of his tone surprised both of you, so much so that when you snapped to look at him, both of you froze. Your moon-sized eyes were further proof that your childhood nickname still rings true to date, although your being the deer made him the oncoming car in this scenario. 

He didn’t love that analogy.

Recovering quickly, he pulled the Ace from his sleeve: the surefire way for one of you to get the other onboard:

“I triple-dog dare you to come with me.”

Begrudgingly, you’d conceded, just like Seokmin hoped you would. You sat with him while he figured out travel plans to the mountain resort, helped him visualize what the hell he needed to wear to an event like this. When the time came, you sent him half the cost for the room he booked, even though he repeatedly insisted that you didn’t need to chip in.

Now, that unsolicited sum sits untouched in his Venmo balance. You sit next to him on the night train out of town.

Sit, he thinks, is a bit of an understatement. You’re barely upright, so exhausted from your work day that his shoulder and side are bearing most of your weight. His arm went from tingling to numb an hour ago, but Seokmin doesn’t mind. There isn’t a burden he wouldn’t carry for you, up to and including you yourself.

Besides, he’s not worse off for being left to his own devices. In fact, he keeps himself thoroughly entertained by taking selfies of the pair of you. The aftermath will stay securely in his camera roll — largely because you’d kill him if you saw how squishy your face is, pressed against his coat, or how your little pout trembles slightly, almost as if you’re trying to talk through your sleep — but he still finds it worth the risk. This mochi-cheeked version of you is one of his favorites.

When Seokmin has amassed enough silly photos to comprise a dossier, he tucks his phone back into his pocket with a self-satisfied smile. You’re still out cold, so you don’t stir at his subtle movements or the sound of the concession trolley rattling your way down the aisle.

The girl manning said trolley is significantly outweighed by the thing itself. She hardly looks old enough to have graduated high school, he figures, and he can’t imagine how it is that she’s working at this hour — or how she got stuck doing this job, when it takes all she’s got to maneuver the giant metal contraption through all the train cars.

“Anything, sir?” She asks politely, albeit slightly out-of-breath. 

Even though she’s speaking to him, her gaze is directed squarely at his hat, leading him to believe that she may also be too shy for her job. Nonetheless, it’s been two entire hours since his dinner, and he’s on the brink of starving to death, so he coughs up a few bills in exchange for several different snacks. 

She could do him the kindness of assuming his massive pile of food is for sharing, but she doesn’t. She gestures to you and whispers, “Anything for your —?”

Seokmin intercepts the question, knowing exactly where it’s headed: in the same direction as the million others like it that he’s heard over the years. 

“— parole officer?” He supplies with a smile, “No, this nap is fueled by a lot of crab rangoon. She’ll be out for the duration, I fear.”

Both halves of his response seem to stun her, which means he has to cover his inevitable laugh with a fake cough. 

This bit of yours will truly never get old, although the implications that prompt it did a long time ago. It was a stroke of genius on your part, dodging inaccurate references to your relationship status by offering up something too absurd to converse around.

“You two make such a cute couple,” an Uber driver once told you.

“He’s not in a relationship,” you’d politely corrected him. “He’s in witness protection. I’m duty-bound to keep him and his identity safe.”

The silence turns awkward, so Seokmin thanks the girl and gives her a smile he hopes says, “you’re allowed to run away from me now; I won’t take it personally.” She bows her head a little too eagerly, then skitters off with a grimace, like she pulled something in her neck.

Alone again with you, he wiggles gently upright in his seat so that you can rest more comfortably against his pectoral, rather than his shoulder bone. Even though you’re still asleep, Seokmin swears he hears a quiet mmpfh, as if you’re expressing gratitude. He bites his lips to keep from smiling, knowing that smiling in your proximity is one step away from laughter: the only thing you’ve never been able to sleep through.

Instead of giving into the urge, he murmurs, “You should get paid royalties whenever we use that joke. Being as smart as you are should pay off.”

Now, he knows he’s not simply hearing things because you’re just barely loud enough to overcome your own mumbling. 

“Agreed,” you sigh on an exhale before slipping to sleep off again.

“Well?” 

There are two beats between his first question and his next: the unfilled gap you’ve left in the conversation and the cab’s trunk shutting firmly. “‘s that cool with you?”

Seokmin stares at you, staring at him. His expression is soft, like your lack of responsiveness is something to be fond of, rather than annoyed by. It’s unexpectant, too, leaving the door wide open.

You blink. “Sorry — I — What did you say?” 

Hitting him when he least expects it, you shift your suitcase from your dominant hand so you can gesture properly to the bright, poorly crocheted bucket hat flopping over his forehead. “It’s a bit hard to hear you. That hat is so loud.”

His quizzically raised eyebrows drop in an instant. Likewise, that airy smile of his flattens into a straight line. 

Bullseye.

“Is it me that you hate?” He asks, tone dead serious as he points his finger towards his own chest. “Or is it the very concept of whimsy?”

You’re too busy biting back a grin to protest when, without being asked, Seokmin reaches out and takes the handle of your suitcase into his own hand, as well as the garment bag you’d draped over your arm. Before turning away to abscond with both sets of luggage in addition to his own, he shoots you an incredulous look. It dissolves entirely before his face even disappears from view. 

“This is an objectively delightful hat,” he mutters, nonetheless, in furtherance of the bit.

He spots a member of hotel staff standing on the sidewalk directly outside the hotel’s double doors and pleads his case to them. “She made me this hat, you know,” he announces, gesturing back to you with a nod.

The valet’s uniform hat casts a shadow under the lamplight, but it doesn’t do enough to hide the expression on their face. It is abundantly clear — even in the dark — that they didn’t hear a single word Seokmin said before he offered up that bit of trivia, seemingly apropos of nothing. They muster up a customer-service smile that doesn’t reach their eyes and tell him it’s a wonderful hat. Meanwhile, you roll your eyes from behind because nothing either of them just said is true.

That hat is the byproduct of delusions of grandeur and innumerable skeins of color-conflicting yarn. You made it for yourself, believing that you were the kind of cute and kitschy person who could pull it off; and inconsolable weeping Christ, were you wrong. It was — no, is — your greatest fiber arts failure.

Frankenstein’s floral monster would be in a secondhand shop somewhere if you’d had any say in the matter. It isn’t because you didn’t. Seokmin “rescued” it from the “to donate” pile on your bedroom floor. Since then, he’s worn it at every — public — opportunity, season be damned.

Admittedly, he’s exactly the kind of cute and kitschy person who can pull it off, but you’ve decided out of sheer pettiness to keep that appraisal to yourself.

You take your time catching up to him, both because his long legs make it hard to keep pace; and because the room is reserved under his name. After all, he’s the welcomed guest, not the reluctant party-crasher. The receptionist is already handing him a white keycard when you finally reach the desk. Seokmin holds it up between his index and middle fingers, closed-eye grin sparkling in a matching shade of ivory.

Though the journey up to your shared room is long, the real trip is being confined to an elevator with mirrors for walls. 

No matter how hard you try to avert your eyes, you manage to keep finding some new, horrible angle of your stale, post-train state. It’s torture. Three versions of you stare back with deep, dark undereye circles; and all you can think about is how dull your complexion is — especially in comparison to Seokmin, who may as well be bioluminescent with the way he glows from the inside out.

It’s joy, you know, his primary state of being and something he radiates like no other. He’s happy to be here, happy that you’re here, and happy to be happy. Whether or not he means it to be, it’s infectious. Now, you feel yourself starting to smile, too.

Despite your quiet observation, you must have missed him looking at you. Seemingly out of nowhere, he carefully sets down your belongings, raises his now-empty hand, and cups the right side of your jaw. Unaware that you’ve frozen solid, he swipes his thumb carefully over your cheek, tilting his own head to the side and frowning.

“I got you bad, huh?”

You blink.

“The zipper on my coat,” he explains, laughing. “Looks like it took a bite out of you when you used me as a pillow on the train.”

For reasons you can’t possibly explain, the only word to roll off your tongue is a sheepish, “Sorry.”

For a second, Seokmin is just as confused as you are about whether you’re needlessly apologizing to him or his coat. He chuckles quietly at how easily distracted you both are, then he gets back to the point: “Does it hurt?”

“No.” 

Your response comes unnaturally quick. Your pulse does, too, when you finally make eye contact with him. After clearing your throat, you give him a half-hearted smile, ignoring whatever medical event you seem to be experiencing. “I didn’t know it was there until now.”

He hums in acknowledgment, then rescinds his hand. You watch in silence while he re-encumbers himself with your luggage and turns back to face the elevator doors, which open almost immediately.

Seokmin steps out easily, like the weight of your respective burdens doesn’t mean a thing. “I’d say this way, please, but I’ve already forgotten the room number,” he admits with a sheepish laugh. “The keycard’s in my pocket.”

You take his cue and reach into the front, right pocket of his coat for the keycard. As soon as you see the room number, you snort.

“You booked room number 218 because that’s your birthday, and then… what? You forgot your own birthday?” 

“I’m deeply flawed.” He sighs, put-upon. “Now, let’s go, Bambi. It feels like you packed a week’s worth of bricks.”

There’s no time to point out that you never asked him to carry your suitcase or bag for you in the first place. Likewise, there’s no opportunity to ask exactly how many bricks is a week’s worth. He’s on the move again before you can blink, energy evident in each step regardless of how late it is.

Once again, you follow Seokmin’s lead. Despite the signage, which is clearly visible on the wall, he walks confidently in the wrong direction, prompting you to grab him gently by the elbow and steer him the opposite way. His smile doesn’t falter; he plays it off as if he was just testing how closely you’re paying attention. 

It takes several turns down several additional hallways before the pair of you reach your target. When you come to room 218, you tap the keycard against the reader, causing the lock to click open. You turn the handle, push the door open into the room, and step awkwardly out of the way so your personal bellhop can get by.

“This is what I was trying to tell you when you so viciously insulted my favorite accessory.” Seokmin nods his head towards the center of the room. “All of the rooms Seonmi included in the reservation block have a king-sized bed — singular. The rooms outside the block are criminally overpriced for ski season.”

It’s far from the first time you’ve doubled up, so you shrug. “Just like old times, right? Like, when you thought your house was haunted, and you forced your way into the top bunk with me?”

“First of all,” he says as he sets both of your suitcases down and places one hand on his hip, the other pointing at you. “We were six.”

After locking the door behind you, you toe off your shoes, smirking at him from over your shoulder. “What’s your second point?”

“It was haunted —” He insists. Then his stern expression melts into something smug, the way it always does when he’s about to blatantly rewrite history. “— and you asked me to come up there because you were scared.”

A laugh slips out of you automatically, but you selflessly decide to let him have this. Crossing to him, you pat him on the bicep, patronizingly simpering all the while, “You are the brave one.”

Even though you’re both cowards, and he knows it, he pockets this little victory with a pleased hum and a grin.

Turning away from him, you make a beeline for the closet area near the door. There, you shuck off your coat and hang it up, out of the way. While you do, Seokmin passes you both your garment bag and his. From there, the pair of you work in efficient silence: you, pulling your respective formal wear from their bags and smoothing out any wrinkles; him, tucking away your extensive collection of toiletries in the bathroom.

When everything is in its place, you turn back around and notice for the first time how beautiful the room actually is. Though the shades of the floor-to-ceiling windows are almost completely drawn, the snow-covered mountains are at least partially visible through the gap in fabric. If you had the time, you’d spend all day tomorrow sitting on the forest green, velvet chaise directly in front of the window, staring at frosty peaks so massive, they feel close enough to touch.

To your right, an electric fireplace heats the room, while a portrait-framed television hovers on the wall above the mantle, flipping through famous artworks as a screensaver. In between flashes of Van Gogh’s Almond Blossoms and Klimt’s The Kiss, you catch a glimpse of Seokmin’s smile reflecting on the black screen.

Awestruck, you turn to him and sigh, “Don’t let me get used to this.”

He jerks his thumb to his right, gesturing towards the bathroom. “Don’t judge me if I steal one of the bathrobes. They’re probably more expensive than half the shit in my apartment.”

“I won’t, but they’ll bill you for it when they figure it out,” you warn him. “On that note, do you need to shower or anything before I start my skincare side quest?”

Seokmin shakes his head, causing the crocheted abomination to flop. “All yours. My hair’ll get weird if I don’t deal with it tomorrow before we head out.”

And with that mental image of his insurmountable cowlick, you quickly grab your pajamas and shuffle off towards the bathroom.

The first few seconds after you close the door are spent gawking at the insanely intricate, geometric tile pattern in the walk-in shower. Thinking of how much time it must’ve taken to lay each one of them, you set to work on your own tedious task: your ten-step regimen of cleansers, toners, serums, and moisturizers. Seokmin says otherwise, but you don’t think any of them truly make a difference. As stupid as you know it is, the routine itself is therapeutic, even if your skin is no more bouncy and glowy than it was before.

When it’s all said and done, you emerge from the bathroom to find your best friend stretched out on the half of the bed nearest the door with his eyes fixed on his phone screen. It’s the side of the room he always chooses, claiming that it’s to protect you from any intruders, but you know the truth: he’s too much of a freeze baby to sleep near the window, and he knows you like it cold.

“Feeling refreshed?” He mumbles to the best of his ability; his sweatshirt hood is pulled up and drawn so tightly that it squishes his cheeks and chin, restricting his movement.

Chuckling quietly as you go, you pad over to your half of the bed and slip under the comforter. Like a moth to a flame, the other occupant sends his last text, tosses his phone to the side, and scoots closer to you, eager to siphon whatever extra body heat he can. His head winds up on your shoulder, while your cheek rests against the top of his head.

“Before you tell me that I look it, I’d encourage you to stare long into the abyss that is my under-eye circles.”

When he laughs, it’s merely a puff of air from his nose. “You never look as tired as you feel,” he says distractedly, fiddling with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “Pretty miraculous, given how little sleep you get.”

That comment warms you up so thoroughly, you wonder if he can feel it. Then, you wonder if that was the point. You intend to tease him for that, but then it dawns on you how fidgety he’s being. It’s rare for him.

“You okay, Thumper?”

It feels silly, using that nickname after so long. Your clumsiness stuck around for the ride, continuing Bambi into perpetuity; but he grew out of his companion name when he hit puberty, and his giant feet were suddenly proportional to the rest of him. 

He’s certainly no bunny, nor is he a child, but the low ebb of anxiety rolling off of him reminds you of the scared little neighbor boy you used to know. It fits, even if it is silly.

At first, Seokmin begins his explanation without peeling his gaze off his restless fingers. “Apparently, Seungcheol and Mingyu are in town.”  Then, his eyes slowly lift up to find you peering down at him. “They want to meet up to go snowboarding before we leave.”

Ah.

There it is: the top-secret look in his eye that only you can decipher. The one he’s been practicing for years, at your insistence, for moments like this, when he needs to be talked into something. When he needs to be brave and avoid missing out on something he’d love, solely because it freaks him out.

You respond the same way you always have; the way you once pinky-promised you always would: “I triple-dog dare you.”

He sighs deeply, neither fully resigned nor relieved, but then he nods. His head knocks slightly against your shoulder as he does. “I’ll do it.”

And that’s that; it’s settled.

Or so you think.

A beat passes in silence, until Seokmin suddenly pipes up again, “But you’re going to have to hold my hand on the chair lift, or I’ll pass out and fall to my death.”

“Deal.” 

You grab his hand now in consideration of your promise and scratch affectionately at his palm. Surprisingly, his thoughts haven’t made him clammy. His skin is even softer than usual, likely due to the expensive hotel lotion he’s undoubtedly now harboring in his suitcase. Tongue firmly in cheek, you look at him sideways. 

“Just — leave the hat in your suitcase, okay? The snow will be blinding enough.”

Seokmin’s been dressed and ready for at least thirty minutes, but you’re still standing exactly where you have been for the last forty-five. Face pinched, you turn this way and that in front of the mirror, smoothing fabric that’s already wrinkle-free, apparently for the hell of it.

“I’m oh-for-three.” Your exasperated sigh is punctuated by your bare, right foot stomping on the carpet. It doesn’t make the impact you likely hope it will, at least sonically. It does, however, speak volumes about how close to the ledge you are.

“All of them looked good,” he says earnestly. “I think this one is my favorite, though, if that means anything.”

Apparently, this is the wrong answer. Your wild-eyed gaze lifts from your own reflection until you’re staring him dead in the eye through the mirror.

“Why did I even pack this?” You ask, “Do you see this?”

Suddenly, you lift a manicured hand to point at your neckline, from which he’d admittedly been averting his eyes. “This is too much cleavage for a family function, isn’t it?”

As quickly as you glanced at him in the first place, you go right back to fussing with your dress, thankfully missing the way he swallows thickly.

Fuck, now he’s staring — but you’re the one that made him look in the first place — and he can feel heat rising to his ears, a dead giveaway. His sudden silence does enough to communicate his struggle. He has no idea how to respond without vaulting over the boundaries of your friendship.

Is it hot in here?

Deciding to rely on his usual tactic, he jokes his way out.

“If you think I’ll ever side against tiddie…” He forces a grimace, shaking his head gravely. “Then you really don’t know me at all.”

You laugh loudly, and whatever one-sided tension filled the room snaps like a twig. Better still, the smile you give him stays on your face while you reassess your dress. Seokmin takes it as a personal victory that you commit to his choice, rather than cycle back through your options for the second time. 

While this means that you’ll both be able to hit the open bar sooner rather than later, the biggest upside is that he no longer has to keep excusing himself to the bathroom so you can change again, and again, and again.

You finish up quickly, tossing on jewelry, and then turn to him. His shoulder keeps you steady while you slip into your devilishly high heels. Seokmin pays them little mind now, however; his attention is drawn to the accessories you’ve chosen. Sure, they match perfectly with the rest of your outfit, but that’s not what strikes him. It’s the fact that everything you’ve picked was gifted to you by his parents at one point or another.

Unable to stop himself, he reaches out and gently taps on one of your dangling earrings. “Eighteenth birthday,” he muses to himself. 

Then, both his gaze and his hand lower to your necklace. He skims his fingertip along the delicate, gold chain, inadvertently making you freeze up. “Christmas 2019?”

You shake your head slightly, though it barely counts as movement.

“Ah,” Seokmin corrects himself. “2020.”

Sensing that he’s somehow made you uncomfortable, he reels himself back in and clears his throat. “Shall we?” He asks, furnishing you with a bent arm to loop yours through.

You take his cue, link your arm to his, and sigh, “I suppose we shall.”

The walk to the elevator is quiet, in that neither one of you says a thing. Seokmin can hear the gears in your head turning, though, without any conversation to drown them out. 

You step inside that glorified, mirrored box; and for a few minutes, he lets you work through the thing he knows ruined your sleep last night. That is, until he hears your breathing come a little quicker than usual.

“Hey.” 

It was supposed to be a jumping off point. He was going to go from there and reiterate that you belong here with him. The plan was to reassure you for as long as it takes to get you to believe it, but you look up at him almost helplessly, and his Etch-a-Sketch brain is wiped clean in an instant.

The very best he can do is smile and offer a single word: “Hi.”

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes twinkling. 

Your plagued frown curves slightly back in the right direction. The creeping shroud of doom lightens, if only a little bit.

“That’ll do, pig.” You swat his arm, but he says it again, emphatically, “That’ll do.”

Halfway through you scolding him for quoting Babe at a time like this, the elevator door reopens, ready to regurgitate the pair of you out onto the ballroom level. 

Unlike the lobby, which sits only one floor below, this floor looks like it was ripped straight from the pages of a fantasy novel. Everywhere he turns, there’s something new — and vaguely elven — to look at. Fairy lights hang in perfectly spaced arches from the lofted ceiling, delicately illuminating the exposed, wooden beams above. The chandeliers — plural — are crafted out of antlers of some kind, cutting between rugged and highly refined.

As stunning as it all is, Seokmin’s mind snags on a single conclusion. You’re the one who voices it, though, much to his surprise.

“This is the most Seonmi thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you whisper to him, all without taking your eyes off the extravagance in front of you. “Is this a dress rehearsal for her wedding next year?”

He bites down on his lips hard to keep his laughter to himself. Of course, you’re dead on. Nothing about this space feels like his parents, who are supposed to be the sole focus of this entire event. He already found it odd that they agreed to such a big to-do in the first place — especially when it would require their loved ones to go out of their way, literally and financially — but this is….

“Am I being petty, or is this kind of… selfish?”

Petty, no. 

Psychic? Probably.

“You’re right, and you should say it.” Seokmin nods and withdraws his arm from yours so that he can drape it properly around your shoulder. “This way to the beer, please. We’ll need it.”

Merely four steps in the direction to the bar, and a screech rings out from somewhere neither of you can locate. In fact, Seokmin’s head is turned the opposite way when someone launches themself at you, damn near ripping you from his hold.

“Oh, my god! I knew you’d come!”

Soyeon’s relief in seeing you is palpable. Seokmin can practically feel his bones being crushed as she hugs you tight, swaying from side to side. He catches a glimpse of your expression, which barely peeks through the curtain of his oldest sister’s hair; you’re far happier now than you were in the elevator.

His sister kisses the side of your head. “I missed you so fucking much. I love my residency program, but I hate how far away it keeps me.”

A solid minute passes by like this. When it starts to get unbearable, Seokmin clears his throat, hoping to remind his sister that she hasn’t seen him in months, either; and he’s also standing right here.

Instead of greeting him, Soyeon shoots you a wry smile. “Who is he today? A fugitive you’re harboring?”

In tandem, the two of you appraise him with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. See, this he didn’t miss: being both of his sisters’ least favorite younger sibling.

“Oh, no, though I can see why you think that.” You shake your head, then reach out to pat his shoulder patronizingly. “If anyone asks, this is a foreign diplomat, and I’m the interpreter he can’t understand a word without. Best not say hi to him; he won’t know what you’re saying.”

Soyeon nods, though Seokmin wonders if she truly  gets what you’re trying to achieve. Not quite, he realizes a moment later. Instead, she covers his chin with her hand so she can squeeze both his cheeks at once.

“He’s adorable,” she coos. “Doesn’t look old enough or mature enough for diplomacy, though.”

Seokmin rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be doctors, can we?”

Again, in tandem, all eyes on him widen with feigned shock. Between overlapping gasps of “he does understand!” and “someone’s been studying!”, he shakes off his sister’s touch and scowls.

“If you’re going to keep bullying me, can you at least do it at the bar? That way, I can numb my suffering with booze.”

At this, Soyeon drops the charade and pulls him into a hug like a vice grip. She holds him so tightly that his vision starts to get spotty. It’s not until he gently pats her back, begging for air, that she lets him go.

“I missed you too, Thumper,” she swears, prompting you to snicker.

Now, he’s annoyed for a completely different reason — one that makes even less sense to him. That nickname hasn’t bothered him in the last decade, so it shouldn’t now. Then again, the only person who’s called him Thumper since middle school is you.

The rules are different for you, if they exist at all.

“And I promise to catch up with you later, but I’ve got five thousand questions for Bambi, and the answers aren’t half as juicy with you around.”

Just like that, his plus-one is subtracted.

As much as you love Soyeon, she’s no Seokmin. With him, talking is easy; he never rushes to fill silences, doesn’t steer the conversation with a white-knuckled grip. 

On the contrary, his oldest sister comes forward with a pickaxe, smashing through small talk while she mines for the wild stories she thinks she’s missed out on since moving away.

You don’t blame her, really. If you spent all your hours in a hospital, only sleeping in the lulls between other people’s trauma, you’d probably become just as intense — the human equivalent of a cracked-open fire hydrant — in the search for closeness, too.

In the thirty minutes you sit with her, you brief her on all the cliffhangers you’d left her with the last time you saw her.

Yes, you’re still stuck with your lease in the same apartment; and the old lady next door still regularly sets off the building’s fire alarm by accident.

No, you decided not to stay with Kai and haven’t spoken since the breakup; he needed more of your time and energy than you wanted to sacrifice for him.

No, Seokmin still hasn’t gone out with anyone that you know of in months. In fact, it’s been so long since either of you have touched on this topic, especially compared to how little time he and the last girl were together, that you can’t even remember her name. 

Beyond that first, limited fact, you keep your mouth shut about the rest. It’s not your business to share; and it wouldn’t kill her to ask Seokmin about himself for once.

The longer you spend with her, the more frustrated you find yourself getting, although you keep this fact to yourself, too. Soyeon and Seonmi have both spent their lives fussing about Seokmin, talking about him like he’s some helpless baby, without doing much to get to know him.

That’s it.

If you were at all confident that Soyeon would take the initiative, you’d let her find all of this out on her own. She won’t, you know, but maybe it’ll sink in if she hears it from you.

“Seokmin’s doing really well, now that you mention it,” you offer, though she barely mentioned him in the first place. “He got promoted last month; he’s now lead architect on that massive commercial lot downtown. Apparently, it’s still a secret, whatever it is they’re putting there. Must be something special.”

Seokmin is something special, you all but yell inside your head.

Soyeon’s eyes brighten. 

Nobody loves secrets quite like she does. You wait for the barrage, anticipating all the questions to which you’ll have to respond with “seriously, I don’t know,” but they don’t come.

Instead, she puts her drink back on its coaster, reaches out, and squeezes your wrist with her slightly chilled hand. “I’m grateful that he’s always had you, Bambi. If he didn’t, I don’t know if he’d lean in to opportunities like that.”

The look on her face tells you she means it. Maybe that’s what makes your stomach sour: that she can sit there, hearing of Seokmin’s accomplishments, and still find a way not to credit him for them.

Anger ignites inside of you. The flames lick up your esophagus, ready to explode, and you suck in a breath with every intention of letting her burn.

But then an arm slinks around your waist. Seokmin’s head bumps slightly against yours until you’re cheek to cheek.

“I hope I’m interrupting something.”

For a second, you think his slight tipsiness caused him to misspeak. Tilting your head to the side the best you can, you look at him out of the corner of your eye and catch his very subtle wink.

Soyeon opens her mouth, but Seokmin makes his wish a reality.

“Sorry, sis,” Seokmin says, entirely unapologetically. “I just found out that the band takes requests; and I’ll be goddamned if Bambi and I don’t show you clowns the meaning of dance.”

It takes no encouragement whatsoever for you to slip off your stool, get to your feet, and inch your way closer to his side. Then, like a starting gun was fired, the two of you bolt clumsily away from the bar, with you shouting “sorry!” over your shoulder as you go.

Your heels skid against the dance floor when you finally reach it, but Seokmin steadies you before you can eat shit in front of god and everyone.

“You’re way too expressive, you know that?” The fact that he’s out-of-breath doesn’t keep him from laughing. “I could’ve seen that grumpy turtle face of yours from space.”

Unintentionally, you prove his point, drawing your eyebrows together and frowning. “I do not —”

“— Also, I lied,” he interrupts yet again.

This, coupled with the everything else going on, leaves you too stunned to speak.

“This band is all trot, all the time. They don’t take requests — trust me, I tried — but if you stay here with me long enough, we can kill two birds with one stone.”

Seokmin doesn’t wait for you to answer because he knows it’s a yes. He doesn’t wait for you to assume your position, either, and instead holds your left hand in his right before placing your right on his left shoulder. This close, you feel the urge to tell him how handsome he looks with his hair parted off his forehead. You don’t, however.

The music swells behind you. Seokmin leads, and you follow, swaying slowly and moving across the floor.

“Two birds?” You remember to ask, one eyebrow arched.

His right arm lifts. “Spin,” he whispers. You step under his arm, then twirl. While you’re facing the opposite direction, he continues, “There. Do you see it?”

“Oh, my god.”

You do.

The bar stool you were just occupying is now filled by Seokmin’s great-uncle, Hajoon, while his new and much younger girlfriend, Yunhee, hovers near his shoulder. Even from this distance, you can see the look of abject distress on Soyeon’s face, totally unhidden by her attempt to seem engaged.

You return to your position in front of Seokmin, your hand accidentally landing on his bicep, rather than his shoulder. Flustered by the deceptive bulk there, you immediately scoot your palm back to where it belongs.

He leans in so that only you can hear him. It doesn’t feel necessary at all, given how loud the band’s horn section is, but you don’t recoil this time. 

“They had me trapped over by the appetizers,” he explains, low voice making you shiver involuntarily. “Every time he started a story with when I was your age, I wanted to point out that Yunhee hadn’t been born yet.”

You can’t help the laugh that erupts out of you and therefore can’t pull your head away from Seokmin’s ear in time to save him. Instead of wincing or complaining, he looks at you and breaks into laughter of his own as soon as your eyes meet. The effect doubles, and before you know it, both of you are teary-eyed.

“How the hell did you get away from him?”

It’s a feat you've never once managed. Uncle Hajoon’s inability to read a room is equal parts due to his horrible hearing and his tendency to never stop talking. Even if he did leave space in the conversation for you to excuse yourself, you’d never successfully get the message across.

Seokmin lifts his arm again but not for you. He takes his leave to spin himself, simpering as he goes, “That’s where Yunhee came in handy, actually. I didn’t know she had it in her, but she’s not as much of a dud as we initially thought.”

“Oh?”

“She told him that I should be able to dance with my girlfriend, and he shouldn’t keep me any longer.” He shrugs. “It didn’t seem like the time to correct her.”

All the heat in your body goes straight to your cheeks. Nonetheless, you attribute it to the dancing and choke out, “No royalties for me, then.”

“Not this time.” Seokmin shakes his head. “I said that Soyeon was trying to catch up with everyone and would love to hear his stories.”

You bite back a grin. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Maybe.” He smiles with every single one of his teeth. “But you’re free.”

“Surprisingly so. I haven’t felt the Eye of Sauron on me at all yet.” Just in case your statement serves as a jinx, you glance around the room for Seonmi. The tension you’ve been keeping in each one of your muscles slackens when, once again, your radar is blip-free.

“Dinner was supposed to start ten minutes ago. If I had to guess, she’s either leaving a scathing Yelp review or personally waterboarding the chef as we speak.”

“Both at the same time,” you counter, earning a wry smile. “She inherited your mom’s self-assuredness. If she believes she can, she will.”

After the pair of you dance through two more songs, the band breaks, and the hotel’s battalion of waiters come in, bearing domed, silver trays. Seokmin takes off in a hurry for your assigned table in the far corner of the ballroom, so famished that he barely remembers to tug you along behind him.

Through the meal and all its complimentary wine pairings, you do your best to focus on the conversation. Seokmin introduced you to the few people sitting with you that you haven’t had the occasion to meet yet. While he does what comes naturally to him, charming them with ease, you struggle for the first time to pay attention to him.

A few tables over, Seonmi sits down with her fiancé, joining the company of her parents; Soyeon and her date are there, too, leaving Seokmin out by design. Like an insane person, you can only watch her, rather than Seokmin’s blatant theft of bites from your plate. She laughs at whatever jokes her mother cracks, but you’d recognize that look of veiled angst anywhere. She isn’t happy, you realize. You can’t avoid the feeling that you’re the reason why she isn’t.

Time passes, somehow too quickly and too slowly. The plates are emptied, then cleared away by the wait staff — except for your half-empty glass, which is your third. Much like the other guests at your table, the joyful buzz you’d been feeling so far leaves, too.

All that’s left is you, Seokmin, and that ominous, storm cloud you can’t seem to shake.

“You’ll probably feel better if you talk to her.”

He’s always more observant than you give him credit for. You snap out of your zoned-out stare across the room in order to look at him. You frown. “I doubt it. She already looks pissed. Me parading my presence here despite her isn’t going to help anything.”

“Bambi,” Seokmin sighs, not impatient but gentle. “She’s not exactly warm, but she has always liked you. There’s literally no reason why she wouldn’t be happy to see you —”

You open your mouth to argue.

“— that happened over twenty years ago, and you really need to stop feeling guilty about it —”

You close your mouth, cross your arms self-consciously, and sink in your seat. Despite yourself, you glance over at him and catch the way he’s looking at you. He doesn’t need to say the words out loud for you to hear them.

It’s either the unspoken dare, his reassuring, soft-eyed smile, or all the blasted merlot that does you in. You’re not sure which of the three was the coup de grâce, and as you slink off towards her table, you realize it doesn’t matter. For one reason or another, you’ve decided that fear isn’t going to get the better of you this time.

Seonmi somehow senses you coming. Even without the band underscoring your movement, your timid steps across the mahogany parquet should’ve been impossible for anyone to pick up on. 

Must be an older sister thing, you think, being doomed to keep a perpetual eye on others. 

She doesn’t say anything when you slip into the chair next to her, which doesn’t bode well but isn’t a deal breaker, in and of itself. The important thing is that she doesn’t get up to leave. You tell yourself that this is a good sign. The knot in your stomach begs to differ, however.

Say something.

Say anything.

“Everything’s… lovely, Seonmi, seriously.” You gesture around you, smiling, but she only gives you a cursory look. “You’ve really outdone yourself with this one.”

Seonmi takes a sip of her cocktail — something bitter, the petty voice in your head assumes — and lets the corner of her mouth rise slightly. If it’s the closest thing you’ll get to a smile, you’ll take it. She hasn’t granted you a proper one in the decades since you got gum in her favorite Barbie’s hair.

“Thanks, kid,” she sighs, setting the drink back down on her personalized, cardboard coaster.

You can’t remember the last time she called you “Bambi”, let alone your real name. Just like Seokmin, you’ve always been a child to her. Apparently, you always will be, no matter what you do.

Her grip around the glass remains rigid, not unlike her overall posture. Condensation weeps under and around her manicured fingers, uninhibited. You watch those droplets soak through the coaster’s design, darkening her parents’ initials and wedding date, while you mull over whose turn it is to talk.

Ultimately, as is usually the case, Seonmi makes this decision for you. Without so much as a glance at you out of the corner of her eye, she muses, “It was a lot of work, getting all the details ironed out.”

You pick up on the subtext immediately. One of those details would’ve been the guest list; another, the invitations. Seokmin assumed it was all an accident and said as much to you no fewer than a hundred times, but this little comment from his sister blows his assurances to smithereens. 

Your exclusion wasn’t an accident at all.

Suddenly, somehow, the room is twenty degrees colder. You shoot a panicked glance over to where Seokmin was just sitting, wanting nothing more than to slink back to his warmth with your tail between your legs; but he’s not where you left him. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found.

Fuck.

“Ah,” is the best you can do.

And then the two of you sit awkwardly in silence while the seconds age in dog years.

You should’ve brought a drink over with you so you’d have something to do with your hands. Or your phone — except you left it on its charger, you idiot — or a time machine, so you can revoke your bullshit decision to walk over here in the first —

“He deserves that, don’t you think?”

The combined suddenness of her voice and the switch in topics makes you jolt ever so slightly. You try to pass it off, to pretend that you’re simply adjusting the skirt of your dress, but your efforts go unnoticed. Seonmi is too busy pointing casually ahead, drawing your focus to the center of the dance floor.

Like absolutely no one else is watching, Mr. Lee twirls around his laughing wife, his heart-shaped smile beaming so brightly that it almost hurts your eyes. The love of his life has to hold one of her hands over her mouth to keep her laughter from bursting out; the other hand is raised with the rest of that arm, allowing her husband to spin himself underneath. When he’s halfway through, she surprises him, drops her arm down, and embraces him fully, giggling all the while.

It almost makes you tear up — Mr. Lee’s unabashed, silly love, and how much it reminds you of his spitting-image of a son; the way Seokmin’s mother’s eyes sparkle in the same blissful, radiant way his do. Maybe the same can’t be said for his older sisters, but it’s abundantly clear where Seokmin came from. It’s even clearer where he should end up.

“Yes,” you breathe, and it almost sounds like a laugh because of course, he does. Before you can stop yourself, you ask, “Is that really a question?”

No, you realize too late, it’s bait.

Without batting an eye, she counters, “Is it really so hard for you to let him have that?”

Seonmi turns her head to look you dead in the eye. Confusingly, despite her words, there’s nothing in her tone or gaze that reads like malice. If anything, the slight furrow of her brow shouts concern.

Your mind is spinning too fast to keep up with. Whatever her next move is, you’re too dizzy now to see it coming and too disoriented to follow it. With the knot in your stomach tightening further, you stammer, “Is — what?”

“God,” Seonmi drops her face into her hands. “You don’t get it, do you?”

A fish on dry land, all you seem to know how to do is open and close your mouth. You may not be literally flailing, but with the state your mind is in, you may as well start.

“Seokmin loves love.” 

She says each of these words slowly, like she’s trying to hammer each nail through a thick skull. 

“It’s the one thing he’s wanted most since he was a kid, yet I can count on one hand the number of short-term relationships he’s been in. He doesn’t ever bring anyone home to meet us; he doesn’t bring anyone to weddings, or parties, or holidays; he just brings you.”

Of course, you’ve been right there through all of his situationships. He’s always scant on details when they end — and you’ve never pressed for any — but you know better than anyone that nothing has stuck long-term. 

You’ve never thought about how odd this really is, but with Seonmi spelling it out for you now, you can’t come up with a single, good reason why someone as objectively incredible as Seokmin can’t make these things work — or why, even as you rack your brain, the only constant you can find in his life is you.

She glares now, as if she’s daring you to speak; as if you’ve got anything she’d deem worth adding. The bulldozer revs up again, whether you’re ready or not: “You’ve always been the only person he saves space for, whether or not there’s a place for you, and he has no room left in his life for someone to love him like that —” 

Seonmi points again to her parents, who are circling slowly on the dance floor, talking softly to one another. 

“So, what is it? Do you truly not see what he’s missing, or are you choosing not to because you like his attention?”

Your eyes burn with tears, but you can’t let them fall, and you can’t wrap your head around why that is. 

Who are you hiding them from: Seonmi or yourself?

The longer she stares at you, the muddier it gets. You don’t want her to be right. You don’t want to be the kind of person she’s describing; but there’s something awful whispering in the back of your mind, saying that you might be. 

You’ve left every relationship you’ve been in, telling everyone who asks in the aftermath that you like being on your own better. But that’s bullshit. It’s not your own company that you keep when you’re single; it Seokmin’s. 

He makes sure that you never spend a day feeling alone, that he’s always available over the phone in the rare times he’s not physically with you. As his best friend, he treats you better than every single one of your exes ever has. Like you’re worth more than anyone else will credit you.

What kind of friend are you if you feel relieved whenever his relationships expire?

Seonmi’s hand drops, landing half-heartedly clenched on the tabletop. Just the same, her voice drops until it’s almost a whisper. 

“I am begging you,” she pleads, eyes narrowing desperately as they search yours. “If you don’t want him, someone else will. Please just —  get the hell out of their way.”

By the time you reach the elevator, all you’re left with is a blur. You’ve already forgotten how the conversation ended, or which one of you was the first to get up. If she said anything else to you, it was drowned out by your own hammering pulse and a looping chorus of voices validating your biggest fear, stating in no uncertain terms that you don’t belong.

You’re shaking when you reach your floor. Heels clicking under unsteady footsteps, you make for room 218; and as you go, you shove your hand into the well-concealed pocket of your dress for the keycard Seokmin forgot to grab himself on the way out earlier.

He’s certainly not in the room when you finally step inside, although you have no clue where he’s gone. It’s for the best. The door closes behind you, and with no one to see it happen, you burst into tears.

All rational thought flies out the window, shaken off by the tornado of utter confusion tearing through your brain. You grab your suitcase, needing nothing more than to be anywhere else, and begin haphazardly throwing your things back inside of it.

Why did you still come with him, knowing it wouldn’t end well? It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told him no; he would’ve listened if you truly meant it.

If you didn’t mean it when you initially tried to squirrel your way out of this, why not? Was it just your friend asking sincerely that won you over without a fight; or was it because you knew, deep down, it’d hurt to see him bring someone else?

Why would it hurt?

The answer to that will crack the foundation of everything the two of you have built, but only if you admit it to yourself. It can’t threaten you if you don’t say it out loud, don’t make it real.

So, you won’t. 

You’ll bury it deeply enough to forget about, repour the concrete, and tiptoe through the rest of your life with your best friend still at your side.

That is, if your friendship survives the weekend — rather, your sudden departure from it — at all.

“Halmoni, it’s time to go back to your hotel, okay?” 

He coos this, as if he’s pleading with a toddler at bedtime, because that’s exactly what it feels like to wrangle the drunk, 80-year-old clinging to his arm.

Physically, she needs to hold onto Seokmin to keep herself steady. Mentally, she’s ready to run and has made several attempts to do just that when she thinks his guard is down. It’s no wonder the hotel staff cornered him and begged him for help; she’s too wily for those who don’t know her.

The manager had at least done him the courtesy of hailing a cab. It sits out front, warm and waiting, while he shepherds his grandmother through the lobby.

“— and another thing!” She slurs.

There is never not another thing. She shouldn’t bother concluding her sentences in the first place; she’s never done talking.

“I told your sister — I said, Sunny —”

Seonmi, he dares to presume, although he doesn’t dare to correct her.

“— you can’t have stuff like this —” She gestures animatedly, albeit vaguely around her. “— in places like this and expect retirees to pay for it! I said — oh, what did I say? — Ah, I said, ‘find me the cheapest motel in the area, or I’ll be staying in your room with you’ —”

Her kitten heels hit the brick outside with an angry thwump.

Seokmin can’t help himself. “She didn’t go for that?”

“No!” His grandmother squawks. 

The driver sees the ball of a woman wobbling his way and quickly exits the cab, skirts around it, and flings the back door open for her. 

“I can’t imagine why, halmoni,” he lies through his teeth, which shine down on her in his best, least sincere smile. “You’re a blast in a glass.”

She roars with laughter, even while two grown adults work together to pour her into the backseat without bumping her head on the doorframe. “Glast in a blass!”

“Exactly. Can you —?”

He gives up before he finishes voicing his request; it’s no use. Instead, he bends down to hug her and finagles the buckle of her seatbelt while she’s too distracted to fight him off. That click is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, after the clunk of the door shutting her in.

By the time Seokmin turns to the cab driver, his grandmother is fully slumped in her seat, pilled peacoat rising and falling with every wine-laced breath.

“I am so sorry.” He sighs, which devolves into a sheepish laugh, and fishes all of the cash out of his pocket. No tip could possibly cover the emotional toll of this ordeal, so he does his best and gives the driver everything he has.

The driver’s eyes widen. Seokmin gets the impression that he doesn’t quite understand the task he’s undertaking. 

Poor bastard.

Seokmin continues, “My grandfather is at the inn already; he didn’t feel well enough to come here, but he’ll be ready to get her inside once you drop her off.”

“Sounds easy enough.” The driver smiles and holds out his hand to shake. 

Seokmin reciprocates, and he declines to explain just how wrong that assessment is. He thanks the man and chirps a quick goodbye to his grandmother before rushing back inside.

Walking into the ballroom, he hopes to find you and Seonmi laughing about whatever misunderstanding had gotten in your way before. At the very least, he expects you to still be sitting next to each other at the same table. That would be good enough, he thinks; he could assist in repairing the situation from there.

The problem, it seems, is beyond his help. Neither one of you occupies the same table. If his quick scan tells him anything, you’re not even in the same room.

No matter which way he turns, he can’t spot you. His sister, on the other hand, is near the far corner, having what looks like a nightmarish conversation with their parents. There are approximately five billion things Seokmin would rather do than get in the middle of that, but you don’t have your phone on you, and he has no other way to find out where you went.

Above the heads of the two women, Seokmin’s father catches sight of his approach. They lock eyes; there’s something insane in his father’s gaze. The older man shakes his head, mouthing “no.”

Seokmin stops short, raises his hands with the palms up to get across his confusion, and mouths back, “Bambi?”

In response, his father extends a single finger and points upwards. He then makes a shooing motion with his hand. His wife and daughter are so engrossed in their argument that neither of them catches the pantomime or Seokmin’s quick exit, back the way he came.

On the elevator ride upstairs, Seokmin worries. The most likely explanation is that you went to find your phone so that you could find him – but you haven’t texted or called him in the time he’s been looking for you, so he supposes it isn’t likely after all. 

Maybe, he thinks, the wine caught up to you. You’re not as strong a drinker as you think you are. While he walks down the hallway to room 218, he steels himself. Even though you both hate it, he’s ready to hold your hair if he walks in and finds you with your head in the toilet. That dress looks too good on you not to be expensive; he’d rather talk you out of your embarrassment tomorrow than have you shell out for dry-cleaning.

You didn’t deadbolt the door behind you, which strikes him as odd. In fact, you didn’t even close it properly; it isn’t latched. All he has to do is tap on it for the door to open.

“Bambi?” He calls out before stepping inside entirely, thinking it’s only decent to confirm in advance that he’s not an intruder. “Sorry for disappearing. I had to pour my grandmother into a cab – it was exactly as awful as it sounds.”

The faint rustling sound he hears isn’t coming from the bathroom, which is both dark and unoccupied. Part of him wants to take this as a good sign, but the rest of him wonders if he’s walking in on a burglary. That flicker of fear is followed by a stupid sense of validation: 

You always laugh at him when he cites this as his reason for choosing the bed closest to the door; you claim it’s statistically unlikely. Finally being able to say “I told you so” after a robbery wouldn’t make either of your belongings magically reappear, of course. That said, it might make him feel a little better.

But the figure rooting through your suitcase isn’t a bandit at all. It’s you with your coat on.

“Um,” he starts, unintentionally startling you. “What is….” 

His question peters out when you look up at him. There are broken mascara tracks down your cheeks, as if you tried to wipe them off without actually looking at them. Above them, your wide eyes are wet, like you’re seconds away from crying all over again. Even worse, you’re trembling.

Seokmin’s only instinct is to reach for you. Before he can wrap his arms around you, you jerk away from him. “Please don’t.”

So, he stops, though he doesn’t understand why. This is quite literally the only time in your life that you’ve pushed him away.

“What’s going on?” Ideally, he’d project calm at a time like this. He just sounds desperate. “What happened with Seonmi?”

“She — um, she didn’t — It wasn’t that bad; I’m just… You know how sensitive I get when I drink wine.”

Like a switch flips, a half-hearted smile takes over the bottom half of your face. It’s not real; if it was, your eyes would light up and crinkle at the corners. Whatever that look is, it’s bullshit.

Seokmin gestures to your suitcase, where everything you brought with you has been unceremoniously shoved. “Sensitive enough to, what, run away? No. I’m not buying it. She said something — or did something — to make you this upset. Bambi, what happened?”

His urgency is selfish, he knows it. Seonmi’s always been way too intuitive for her own good. There’s no way she hasn’t noticed the way he looks at you when you aren’t looking; how god-awful he is at acting platonic.

He tries — has been trying, for a long time now — to shake these feelings off because he knows you’re not emotionally available. Because he knows who he’s supposed to be for you, and how devastating it would be if he threw your friendship away.

That devastation is right in front of him now; and it’ll  push you out of his life forever if he doesn’t shut it down. He has to get in front of it.

You strike first, though. “Seokmin, why didn’t you bring anyone else?”

There are two ways for him to interpret that question: with the emphasis on anyone, meaning not you; or as an escape route. For your sake, he chooses the latter.

“She gave me a plus-one, not a plus-two,” he says softly.

Despite his tone, it must hit you like a punch. You nod curtly, once. “Got it. Basic math. Thanks, Seokmin; that was never my strongest subject.”

Foot, meet mouth.

You immediately set back to work, reaching for the lid of your suitcase to close and zip. Before he thinks once, let alone twice, his hand darts out and flattens against the mesh inner pocket on the top, preventing you from doing so.

“No.” He shakes his head firmly. “Not happening.”

You don’t scowl at him the way he expects, nor do you even stop to look at him. It’s far worse than that; your eyes start swimming, focused helplessly on your suitcase. 

When you speak, your voice cracks. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place. I knew that this invitation shit wasn’t an accident; I knew I wasn’t welcome to —”

“— You came anyway.” Seokmin doesn’t mean to snap at you, but the point is moot. Softening at the edges, he quickly continues, “And I’m glad that you did because I don’t want to be here with ‘anyone else’.”

It’s not the whole truth, so it may as well be a lie. You know him too well for him to get away with it; it was stupid of him to try. Your head turns, and the slight narrow of your eyes says it all.

I triple-dog dare you to tell me the truth.

This fork in the road has two dead ends. His only options are to do just that or double down and lie straight to your face, while you see straight through him. Either option pulls the pin, he figures, so it’s no longer a question of who gets hurt; it’s who gets hurt worse.

Seokmin jumps on the grenade.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else!”

It comes out too loudly, startling you. In a way, it’s angry, too. He wishes could project that anger onto Seonmi for starting shit, as usual, but the person he’s maddest at is himself for putting you both in this position.

For the first time ever, he can’t decipher the expression on your face. He’d shove his foot into his mouth to try and keep himself quiet, but his adrenaline is firing on all cylinders, and he can’t seem to stop shouting.

“And I’m really fucking sorry to say it because I know you don’t want to hear it, not from me or anyone else. So, you can leave, alright? I’m not going to stop you.”

The force of the surprise almost knocks the air out of him, so quick that Seokmin can’t process what’s happening until his back is flush to the wall behind him — until your hands, flat against his white button-up, curl to grip the fabric, and you kiss him so hard that he sees stars.

You’re surprised too, it seems. When you pull away, chest heaving, you freeze in the same way he does. Eyes searching the other’s, unsure of what to do now that twenty-plus years’ worth of boundaries have been blown to bits.

You whisper, “Are you still sorry?”

Of the five million feelings swelling inside of him — fear, kind of; joy, yes; fucked up by your blown-out pupils, definitely — regret isn’t one of them.

Actually…

He cups your face in his hands like water from a spring, drinks down the sight of you in this new and perfect light. “I’m only sorry that it took me this long to tell you,” he confesses before kissing you back twice as hard.

You’d ask Seokmin to pinch you and prove to you that you’re not dreaming, but the fear you feel at the thought of waking up is too overwhelming. 

Even if it wasn’t, he can’t help you, can he? 

His hands are far too busy.

Your pretty dress is long gone now, having been shucked off and tossed somewhere out of sight. In its place, it’s Seokmin’s body that now drapes over yours, warm in touch and tone, like molten gold. 

His middle and marriage fingers curl inside you, working you up again; and all you can do is cling desperately to his hair, whimper, and wait for the fall.

“I take back what I said earlier,” he murmurs between nips and kisses at your neck.

You can’t ask him to elaborate. You’re too close to careening over the edge for the second time tonight; too busy babbling fucking nonsense.

His simper against your throat reverberates all the way down, lights up your every nerve in tandem like a switchboard. “Only an idiot would tell you to be less expressive.”

The pad of his thumb swirls over your clit; its movement synchronizes with his middle finger inside of you, targeting your weak spot. He presses down on that spongy patch of nerves, and your hips buck involuntarily, a hallmark of your body begging for you while your words fail.

“You were right, though.” 

You summon all your concentration. “I’m always right,” you counter. Seokmin pulls his mouth away from the underside of your jaw just to look at you pointedly. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

He picks up the pace of his ministrations, pulling no punches. You’re teetering on the ledge with no real ability to lift your own neck; your head crashes back against the pillow as you wail, clenching and gushing around his fingers.

“I do know how sensitive you get,” he snickers before slipping his fingers from you and sweeping down to kiss you sweetly.

The ringing in your ears has barely subsided, but you’ve decided not to take anymore of his teasing laying down. Slipping your fingers from his hair, you move your hands to his shoulders; and with whatever muscle control you still maintain, you flip him off of you, onto his back.

“How long —” 

You climb over his lap and straddle him, placing your palms flat against his chest. It’s as much a show of dominance as it is a carefully disguised trick for balance. 

“— have you been waiting to say that?”

Caught red handed, Seokmin shoots you that trademark, heart-shaped smile. His cheeks were already flushed from the effort he just expended on you; that perfect pink only deepens when he blushes and laughs, “What, you think I can’t come up with killer lines in the heat of the moment?”

You scratch your nails gently down the lines of his abdominal muscles. “Nope,” you purr.

Sitting up on his elbows, Seokmin tilts his head to the side and narrows his dark eyes at you. You’re nowhere near used to seeing him look at you like this, like you’re something to be devoured. The feeling of being wanted so badly makes your stomach flip.

“Give me some credit, won’t you?” He asks, voice low. “You’re a knockout; you’re naked in front of me for the first time; and it’s a miracle I can talk at all when I feel this concussed.”

When you lean in, he licks his lips expectantly. You’re close enough to kiss him, of course, but you stop a few millimeters shy of your mark and watch him fight the urge to pout. His eyes search yours, almost pleadingly.

“Is that why you’re still not naked?”

Seokmin’s next move is to reach for the black briefs he’s still got on, but you stop him, encircling each of his wrists with your hands.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tut with a patronizing shake of your head. “You’re fired. I’m in control now.”

If the little sigh he lets out is any indication, he is very much on board with your self-promotion.

He takes your cue and reels himself in, allowing you to move further down his body, your fingertips hooking under his elastic waistband and tugging as you go. When his length finally springs free, you duck your head to take him into your mouth, beyond eager to feel his weight on your tongue.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, eyelids fluttering, while you swirl your tongue around his head. “Feels s-so —”

The rest of his sentence gets stuck in his throat; you take what you can of him down your own throat, working whatever remains with your hand. 

Seokmin wants so badly to watch, you know he does, but he’s sensitive, too. His head tips back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open.

It’s messy, the spit dribbling down your chin and the sound brought forth by the suction of your mouth around him. The obscenity of it all spurs you on. Nothing inspires you quite like Seokmin’s breathy whines and low moans, though. Above all else, it’s his reaction to you that slicks the inside of your thighs.

You’d give him the ending he deserves, right down the back of your throat, but you feel his fingertips graze your shoulder, beckoning you to look up at him.

Voice rough, he pleads, “Come here.”

With his steadying hands on you, you move back into your original position with your bent knees on either side of him. You immediately spot the indent his teeth have left on his lower lip, which is now slightly swollen. Delicately, you brush your thumb over the mark. “Oh, you’re a goner.”

Seokmin looks at you pointedly. Though you tease, you’re even worse off: drunk on the taste of him, as much as the sight of him underneath you, wanting you just as badly.

“Alright, alright,” you concede. “I am, too.” 

The hand you use to wave dismissively at him then reaches down between your thighs, fingers wrapping around his cock and lining it up with your entrance.

“But I’m taking you down with me.”

And you do.

So thoroughly that you barely recall him staggering off to the bathroom when all is said and done, the wash cloth he returns with to clean you up, or the way you slump into his waiting arms before promptly falling asleep.

You sleep so soundly, in fact, that you don’t stir when the sun blares through the open curtains. Likewise, when Seokmin carefully maneuvers himself out of the tangle of your limbs and places your head on a real pillow instead, you’re none the wiser.

What finally gets to you is the clatter of the expensive, hotel-issued shampoo clattering against the floor of the shower, echoing off the tile like a sonic boom. You sit bolt upright in bed, staring bleary-eyed in the direction of the bathroom. 

As if on cue, Seokmin pokes his head out of the doorway to see if you managed to sleep through the noise. Damp hair splays over his forehead, hanging just as loosely as his lazily-knotted bathrobe. If you weren’t still too sleepy to function, you’d love nothing more than to grab him by that tie and drag him back to bed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, Bambi,” he coos, though his mouth is full of both toothpaste and a toothbrush in a distinctly greener shade of blue than usual.

You merely point at his mouth with a half-powered look of distress, otherwise unable to put your suspicion into words. He doesn’t get it; he glances down at his chest, looking for what he assumes is a stray glob of paste.

When you finally do speak, it’s a prayer: “Please tell me that’s not mine.”

Seokmin blinks at you, then down his nose at the toothbrush he’s using. He cocks his head to the side, opens his mouth to assure you it isn’t, and finally, when the realization makes his eyes widen, he groans.

You wail, “Noooooo!”

Memories of your last trip together clash before your mind — specifically, attempting to navigate a drug store in a foreign language while you shopped for the replacement toothbrush Seokmin is currently holding.

Ears bright red with embarrassment, he ducks back into the bathroom. Immediately, you hear a rush of water from the tap, which nearly drowns out his feeble cry of “I’m sorry!”

“I know it’s an honest mistake, but how do you make it twice?” 

You collapse back onto the pillows and bury your face in your palms; and you stay that way, even when you hear him padding softly over to you. The mattress shifts under his weight as he makes his way, one knee at a time, until you feel him looming over you. His hands reach out and gently pull yours from your face.

Before you can get any ideas, Seokmin flattens himself on top of you; a weighted blanket, smelling like vanilla and spearmint. He folds his arms across your chest and props his chin up on the top of his right wrist, bright eyes sparkling as he peers up at you.

Suddenly, you find it very difficult to be annoyed with him. The worst part is that none of this is by design. He always just looks at you this way, not to get out of trouble but because you’re you.

Your hand reaches out of its own accord and brushes the remaining damp strands off his forehead. When your touch lingers, Seokmin leans into it, warming your palm with his cheek.

“Hey,” you say, after failing to come up with anything better.

He beams. “Hi.”

“Why are we awake at this hour?”

That smile of his evaporates slowly, giving way to a grimace you’ve seen before. “Seungcheol and Mingyu want to meet up at the ski lodge before the post-brunch crowd gets there,” he explains. “And I told my parents we’d get breakfast with them first, since yesterday was… well, mostly a disaster.”

“And it will conveniently provide you with time to think of a way out of snowboarding?” You chuckle quietly and pat his cheek.

Seokmin shakes his head firmly, then stretches his neck enough to kiss you.

“No,” he mumbles defiantly against your lips. “I never back down from a triple-dog dare.”

[gyuswhore]

Shut Up (don't)

anniversary event [closed]

lee seokmin x reader

prompt(s): carrying on the argument between sloppy kisses and heavy make out

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), mean words are thrown at one another while they're fighting, heavy makeouts, fingering (f. rec), breast play, p in v, unprotected sex, soff ending bc im a sap

[a/n]: i have nothing to say. enjoy.

masterlist

Nearly getting rearended, and then breaking the heel of your shoe, to becoming the receiving end of another plethora of snarky remarks from the department weasel; it was all beginning to spill over the rim of your too warm, too full cup. 

All you wanted was to eat a good meal in front of another mindless TV show and nap the weekend away in the arms of your favourite person. Hence why the excitement at your front door was overflowing, creaking the door open to find a darker than usual hallway. You can only slip off your broken shoes and deposit your keys and bag so quickly, barely considering the amount of noise you’re making with all the shuffling and clanging in the doorway. 

“Seok! Babe, are you home?” you raise your voice a little as you enter the kitchen, slamming the grocery bags down on the counter with a loud huff. You peek out the door into the dark halls, brows furrowed. 

Opting to put away the perishables first, you grunt as you stand back up after stuffing all the frozen packages into the freezer, hand supporting your lower back. You were more tired than you’d initally thought.

Shuffling into the living room, your turn on the lights, remaining confused as ever as to why they were off. Even in an empty house, at least one of the lights would remain on. 

You nearly jump out of your skin when you register the lump on the now visible couch, taking a moment to realise it was your boyfriend, still in the clothes he had left in this morning. 

He’s shifting, groaning as he comes around to reveal his face, eyes bleary and face slightly red from sleep. 

“Oh,” he grimaces as he realises you were the one to turn the lights back on. “You’re home.”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch? Have you eaten yet?” you ask your boyfriend who’s now attempting rub the sleep out of his eyes. 

“No,” he confirms, voice still scratchy. “I’m gonna change and go to bed.” 

“Wait, I did the groceries before coming home. I can make you your favourite. You can go to bed after you eat,” you insist. 

He doesn’t answer as he simply rises and makes his way towards the hall leading the bedroom. 

“Seok? Honey, I’ll be quick, I promise. Twenty minutes tops and then you can go to bed.”

Catching up to him, you grab his hand in an attempt to get him to look at you, which he does. Except he looks…annoyed? He brushes another hand across his hair and face, looking more exasperated by the second. 

“I’m not hungry,” he says, slower than usual. Like it was taking an effort to get the words out. “Now can you please just—”

“You can’t go to bed empty stomached, you’ll wake up with a headache!”

“You’re giving me a fucking headache right now.”

You freeze. 

On instinct, you drop his hand, letting it ball into fists at his side. He blinks for a long moment, pinching his nose bridge, before turning around entirely to continue his retreat back into the bedroom. 

It’s like you’ve snapped out of a daze when you register his retreating form, zero comment from either of you after the bomb he’d planted in the room. 

“You don’t get to say that to me and then walk away,” you say, and he’s still not stopping. “You aren’t the only one who’s had a shit day, at least I’m not being an ass about it.”

That seems to do it for him, turning around with furrowed brows and an open mouth that’s ready to shoot back. “This is your problem, you can’t leave things alone.” 

“I’m sorry that I care if my boyfriend’s starving himself?” Your voice comes out louder than intended, the heat of the situation creating an emerging buzz in your head. 

“Don’t care then! Your idea of helping is whatever you want done for you, have you considered that I just want to be left alone?” He tries to control his arms movements but they explode into some waving motion anyway, eyes meeting yours in a wide, angry, accusatory hold.

“Seokmin.” His name leaves your mouth in an unbelievable laugh. “Are you listening to yourself?”

“How can I over all that clanging and banging you do the minute you step foot into this house?!” 

“You know what?” you begin.

“God, just shut up, I can’t do this with you right now.”

“This is beginning to sound like you have a problem with me.”

“I just said—”

“No! Just fucking say it. Moving in together was a bad idea and you wish you’d never asked!” You know you sound hysterical, arms thrown over head as you fight the urge to push something over. 

“Stop it.”

“I’m trying to make this work with our schedules but if you’re gonna blow up anytime you don’t get your way—” 

Seokmin tries to shut you up again, only this time he succeeds. 

In the midst of your rampage he’d crossed the distance between the both of you, opting to slam his mouth onto yours instead of using his words. 

Both of his hands have gotten hold of your face, keeping you from moving your mouth in an way except against his own. He’s taken away your power, your hands come up to grasp his forearms. 

“Seok—” you start again, but he only plants his lips on you again, sliding his tongue at the seam of your mouth to intrude even further. 

You’re mad at him. It’s taking alot to remind yourself of that. He’s trying to shut you up. He doesn’t want to listen to you. He…

Even Seokmin, with all his other worldly breath control, can’t keep his mouth on your forever, leaving your swollen lips to let you both breathe for a moment. 

“What the fuck is this supposed to be doing?’ you ask, breathless but angry.

“Shutting you up,” he reponds, gripping your waist so hard it almost hurts, shoving your entire body right into his personal space. 

You aren’t any better than him, bringing your hands up to his hair, tugging at the strands just to have something to grip on to. 

“This isn’t over,” you mumble between wet, sloppy kisses, already half gone. 

“Like hell it isn’t,” Seokmin grunts, letting go only to pull you onto the warm couch, caging you between the armrest and his own overbearing body. He’s taking over you from all sides, the muddle of your mind unbecoming of the anger that coursed through you just minutes prior. 

Pairing that with your existing exhaustion, your mind seems to be skipping over most of the filler scenes that unfold. 

Your top is gone to wind before you can register his fingers working the buttons. His hands have reached underneath your tight skirt, fiddling with the waistband of your stockings. He’s struggling with the overlapping fabrics, the existing difficulty of handling stockings earning a dissatisfied grunt from his throat. 

Opening your eyes, shifting them to focus on Seokmin’s face, you don’t doubt you look just as fucked out as he does. Pupils dilated, hair dishevelled and sticking out from everywhere, clothes barely framing where they belong. He’s growing frustrated as he instead attempts to shuck your skirt off. 

“Just—” He cuts you off again, even as you try to help with the wretched zipper. 

“Not a word out of your mouth,” he says, almost like it’s a plea, shielded under his scratchy growl. “Not until I’m done.”

This is nothing like you’ve ever seen before, your sweet, gentle boyfriend had turned into some deep monster from hell, like the events of tonight unsheathed some unfed entity that only festered on its ignorance. Despite everything, you can’t seem to complain, enjoying every bit of this as every passing moment only stacks the already leaning tower. 

And when you thought he couldn’t get any more unhinged, you hear the distinct sound of a rip! 

He’s ripped your tights. 

“Seok, I just bought those!” you blurt before you can stop yourself. 

He doesn’t answer you this time, opting to let his fingers do the talking. You feel a distinct pressure on your hot core, and you’re immediately putty. Seokmin is rubbing slow circles over the damp crotch of your panties, steady, but just enough to have you bucking your hips uncontrollably every so couple seconds. Your breathing is loud, bordering whimpers as you squeeze your eyes shut. 

It’s criminal the way he pushes into your core, stuffing you with bulk of his finger and the fabric of your underwear. And just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, he removes hands entirely. 

You nearly scream, the ache becoming near unbearable. He’s shuffling around to take his clothes off but you couldn’t care less if he fucked you half dressed. He’s naked before you can do something about it yourself, immediately planting himself back on you. 

“Put that mouth to better use,” he whispers, bringing two of his fingers to your lips, letting them push past and rest on your tongue. You start sucking on them instantly, tongue running over his long, beautiful fingers, letting him shove them as far as you’d let him. 

When he relents, he only slips them somewhere else. You watch between your flushed bodies as his sticky, glistening fingers disappear, sliding inside your ready, coated walls. Hands finding purchase on the bulk of his shoulders, he lets you dig your nails into his pristine tan skin as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Throwing your head back you can only groan into the empty ceiling at the feeling. 

“God, Seok that feels so good.”

He goes faster, deeper, separating his fingers inside you to test your limits. Finding that spongy spot, he shows no signs of relenting, now pistoning into you. 

When he stops, you come round to watch him line his hard member up to your entrance, not giving you a moment to register the emptiness. Except, you stop him. 

“Wait,” you breathe out, pushing yourself on your elbows. 

“What?” he asks, like he’s been snapped out of a trance. You maintain eye contact as you push him into a sitting position on the couch, letting his back hit the plush of the pillows. You take the opportunity to slide out of your torn and tattered tights, feeling the muscle of his thighs as you sit on his lap. 

“Fuck,” he curses when he realises what you’re doing. 

You readjust, grabbing his hard shaft, pumping him slowly as you prepare to line him up to your entrance again. Pushing your chest into his face during the process, he wastes no time in latching his mouth over the lace of your bra, licking over the fabric, pushing the tip of his tongue right where your nipple was. 

It send waves of shocks right into your core, busying the tip of his cock to rub itself on your dropping hole, savouring the feeling. Seokmin’s thrown your bra away, his mouth now in full contact with your breasts, tongue flicking across the nipple as he nips and sucks to his heart’s content. His fingers flick over your other nipple, pinching and stimulating it just the same. The sight of his fingers is doing so much to you, enough to encourage you to sink into his cock with finality. 

It’s a stretch, but nothing you haven’t been practiced to handle. He has a hand low on your hips, guiding your ass to sit on him fully. When you move it’s easier, the pleasure returning in its waves and sparks. 

“Fuck, Seok,” you whimper, as you start moving faster, bouncing on his cock, ass slapping his thighs. 

You find a place holder behind you on his knee, reaching one of your hands back to clasp his skin, the other finds reprieve in his hair, mouth still sucking on your breast. 

His palm rests on your ass, guiding you up and down his shaft in a constant rhythm, moaning into the plump of your breast. Letting go of your nipple, he throws his head back in a guttural moan, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your walls engulfing him whole. He continues to play with the swell of your breasts, fondling and groping. 

Taking advantage of the access, you lean into neck, pressing kisses onto the expanse, suckling on a spot near his ear, savouring the salt of his skin on your tongue. Your hips continue to bounce on him, but inevitably slow as you feel the burn on your thighs and hips. 

One particular landing is felt with a harsh buck of Seokmin’s own hips and you realise with a loud moan that he’s meeting you halfway, finishing what you started. Soon he’s created a pace of his own, thrusting his well oiled hips into you so good it has you blinking away the gleam of stars. 

“Baby,” your voice comes out pleading, and he knows exactly what you’re trying to say. 

“Come, baby, it’s alright. Come all over me.”

Taking his words to your cunt, you oblige, letting yourself come undone. It’s loud, it’s desperate and it’s raw, needing to wrap your arms around him in a latch for support. He smells like him, and it’s making the high continue to wreck your body in waves that won’t end. 

Seokmin cums just as your coming down from your own high, tightening his hold on you as he rams his cock into your overstimulated cunt to get his own fill of pleasure. His thighs stutter beneath you, his sounds deep and loud.

By the time he’s done neither of you have enough air in your lungs to say a word, slumped over one another as you catch your breaths. 

Seokmin is the first to recover, and your fluttering eyelids drift open at the feeling of his lips on your shoulders, leaving butterfly kisses as you remain curled into his chest, head on the crook of his neck. 

You’re uncomfortably warm, but you cuddle into his chest closer, feeling the heat that radiates off of his body. His lips have found your temple, seemingly not caring for your sticky, sweaty skin as he trails his kisses to your cheek, right next to your ear. 

“I’m sorry for blowing up on you like that. I always want you to care, please forget about what I said,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s enough to have you shuffle impossibly closer into his naked chest. It’s like you’ve molded into each other’s skin. 

“I’m sorry too, for not being understand and for blowing up on you as well. I should’ve handled my emotions better.” You lift your head for a moment to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s jaw, and then find his lips. 

He kisses you so softly it hurts, pecks of affirmation between his “sorry”s. 

“I love you,” he mumbles into your lips, and you cup his jaw as he pulls away ever so slightly. 

You can see a stretch at the corner of his lips and you realise he’s smiling; you almost weep at the sight. 

Kissing him again, you whisper right back, “I love you more.”

“Please don’t ever leave.”

“Never.”

“Promise?” 

You let out a little giggle, “Promise. As long as you won’t ever leave me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, nothing but love in his eyes.

“We still have to talk about what happened,” you say, brushing the pad of your finger across his cheek. 

“I know, and we will,” he gulps. “I think we need to sleep on it.”

You agree quietly, but quip anyway. “If I had to take a shot, I’d bet it on all that pent up energy you just unleashed. I think you feel better right now.”

He exhales through his nose, slightly embarrassed at being called out, but replies nonetheless. “It…it probably was. I do feel less tense.”

“Hm,” you hum, bringing you arms to wrap around his neck, tucking your mouth right near his ear. You trace a lone finger down the center of his chest. 

“Since we’ve decided this is a topic for tomorrow, do you think you’ve got a little more frustration in there to let out?” 

He’s still sheathed inside you, and you can feel his length begin to harden. 

You don’t realise what’s happening as you feel yourself being jerked forward, suddenly suspended in his arms as he struts towards the bedroom. Arms tightened, a hint of a squeal escapes you, and you can only giggle as he tickles whispered promises into your neck. 

Promises that you can count on him to fulfill. 

[daisymbin]

my biggest secret! - lee seokmin

warnings: none! oh, "dumbass" used once if that counts as a warning?

pairings: lee seokmin x reader

genre: drunken confession, friends to lovers

wc: 1.3k

a/n: this fic might be fluff but irl I'm barking over those abs PLEASE just one chance lee seokmin

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist! // seokmin's m.list

seokmin was in high spirits as usual, his laugh booming and eyes crinkling as he clung onto your arm, already tipsy and far more affectionate than usual.

“i love you, you know that?” he declared, leaning his head onto your shoulder. you rolled your eyes but smiled, used to seokmin’s clinginess when he drank.

“yeah, yeah, you’ve said that ten times already tonight,” you teased, but seokmin only tightened his grip, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“but it’s true,” he mumbled, the warmth of his breath tickling her skin. “you’re so great.”

meanwhile, mingyu, seungkwan, soonyoung & jeonghan started a game of truth or dare, and soon seokmin was pulled back into the chaos, dragging you along with him, your hands still intertwined. his need for physical contact didn’t go unnoticed, and his friends exchanged knowing smiles as seokmin refused to let go, giggling and clinging to you as if his life depended on it.

“alright, seokmin!” mingyu called out with a mischievous grin. “truth or dare?”

seokmin’s eyes sparkled with a challenge. “dare,” he said, puffing out his chest dramatically, earning laughter from everyone.

“i dare you… to do your most embarrassing dance move in front of all of us,” mingyu said, barely holding back his laughter.

seokmin’s eyes widened, and he groaned loudly. “nooooo, mingyu, why?” he whined, but his smile never wavered. reluctantly, he lets go of your hand just long enough to stumble to his feet and perform the silliest, most exaggerated dance move he could muster, waving his arms around and flailing like a muppet. everyone burst into laughter, the room filling with cheers and claps as seokmin collapsed onto the floor in mock exhaustion.

you couldn’t help but laugh, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. seokmin, red-faced and still giggling, crawled back over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your lap. “did i impress you?” he asked, looking up at you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“definitely,” you said, running a hand through his messy hair. he hummed contentedly, closing his eyes and nuzzling closer.

“okay, okay, your turn!” soonyoung said, pointing at you. “truth or dare?”

you smirked. “truth.”

“boring!” soonyoung groaned, but he leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “what’s the most embarrassing thing seokmin’s ever done in front of you?”

seokmin’s eyes shot open, and he sat up, clinging even tighter to you. “nooooo, don’t tell them!” he begged, his voice cracking in mock terror.

you chuckled, looking at him fondly. “be careful! we don't want to have to deal with a sulky & pouty seokmin.” seungkwan warned.

“okay, fine. but remember that time you tried to serenade me with that cheesy love song and tripped over your guitar case in the middle of the chorus?” you teased.

seokmin’s face turned even redder, and he groaned, hiding his face in your lap. “why would you bring that up?” he whined, making everyone laugh even harder.

the game continued, the atmosphere buzzing with laughter and energy. seokmin’s clinginess only intensified, and he kept his hands on you—holding your hand, leaning his head against your shoulder, & even playing with the ends of your hair absentmindedly; as if it was all so natural for him. he was practically glued to you, and his cheeks were flushed a deep red from both the alcohol and his constant smiles.

“alright, seokmin, truth or dare?” jeonghan asked, his voice smooth and teasing.

seokmin perked up, a little too enthusiastically. “truth!” he declared, squeezing your hand like he needed the extra courage.

jeonghan’s eyes gleamed with mischief, “what’s the biggest secret you’ve been keeping from all of us?”

the room went silent for a split second before bursting into oohs and curious whispers. seokmin bit his lip, glancing nervously at you. his grip on your hand tightened, and his laughter suddenly seemed forced, his eyes betraying his inner turmoil.

“biggest secret?” he echoed, stalling for time. he swallowed hard, and you could feel his palm starting to sweat. you glanced over at him, eyebrows raised, and whispered, “you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

but seokmin shook his head, the playfulness draining from his expression. he was quiet for a moment, the tension thick in the air, before he turned to face you fully. his eyes were glassy, and he let out a nervous laugh.

“my biggest secret,” he began, voice cracking, “is that i’m completely, hopelessly in love with you.”

the room fell silent, and all eyes turned to the two of you. seokmin’s face was a deep shade of red, and he looked like he was about to burst into tears as the realisation of what he said dawned on him. he immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with horror. “oh no,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “oh no, oh no, oh no.”

you were frozen in place, heart pounding so loud in your chest you could hear it in your ears. “s-seokmin-ah…” you whispered, but he shook his head frantically, his other hand reaching out to grip your arm like it was a lifeline.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. “i didn’t mean to say it like that, not when i’m drunk, not like this.” his words began to tumble out faster, voice cracking with panic. “i ruined everything, didn’t i? you’re gonna hate me now that i ruined out friendship like this and-and i just-”

before he could finish, you leaned in and kissed him, cutting off his frantic rambling, hoping this somehow reassures him. his eyes widened in shock, but then they fluttered shut, and he melted into the kiss, kissing you back instinctively, his grip on you tightening impossibly more. the cheers and whoops from your friends faded into the background as you pulled away just enough to rest your forehead against his, your faces inches apart.

“you didn’t ruin anything,” you whispered as you smiled up at him. you pray he doesnt notice the trembling in your voice.

seokmin’s eyes were still dazed, his lips parted as he tried to process what had just happened. “you… kissed me,” he said softly, his voice full of wonder, almost as if he still doesn't understand why you kissed him.

you nodded, cheeks flushed. “i did.”

his eyes slowly lit up as he starts to understand why, a smile breaking through his glassy eyes, and he let out the loudest, happiest laugh, his joy so contagious that the boys around him couldn’t help but smile. he leaned into your touch, his heart bursting with love and relief, and whispered, “this is the best truth or dare ever.”

“okay okay very sweet, really,” soonyoung said, “but I asked you, what's the biggest secret you've been keeping from us, you still didn't answer us!”

“what do you mean?” seokmin asked.

“it means we all knew you were in love with her, you dumbass! it was so obvious to everyone!” soongoing exclaimed, genuinely in shock that seokmin thinks he's slick. “come on, answer us and finish the game!” soonyoung whined.

seokmin’s laughter rang out again, filling the room with warmth. he looked around at his friends, still clinging to you like you were the only thing grounding him. “fine, fine,” he said, the last traces of his embarrassment melting away as he gazed back at you with stars in his eyes. “my biggest secret? it’s that i’m the luckiest guy in the world... because the person i've been in love with for the past 3 years just kissed me.”

your friends groaned and cheered in equal measure, and you couldn’t help but join in the laughter, your heart feeling lighter than ever.

[haoboutyou]

lee seokmin + "marry me. right here. right now."

@bluehoodiewoozi has a prompt wheel. i told her i wanted to break the wheel

divider credit

“marry me.” seokmin’s eyes are hopeful as they stare back at your wide ones.

“you’re insane, min.”

and you’re right. seokmin is insane for proposing to you now.

“c’mon. right here, right now. what do we have to lose?”

another meteor flies above your heads. you’re fairly certain the blast would’ve caused ringing in your ears, if your left eardrum hadn’t burst from an earlier explosion. you stumble into his arms from its impact as the giant space rock crashing into the next neighbourhood over. a protective hand pulls you flush against his chest, shielding your head against the sudden dusty winds.

you know you could always trust on seokmin to catch you.

still, his words ring clear in your mind. you push him away with what little strength you have left. your knuckles whiten along with the death grip you have on his shirt. “min, stop with the nonsense!”

for once, ever since the world’s end was announced, seokmin stops smiling. oh, you realise. he’s not joking. “…y/n, please.” he kneels down before you, offering up a ring as he clasps his hands in yours. it’s a flower ring, you note. you noticed he was twisting the poor flower earlier, but you didn’t know it was for this.

ferocious winds whip your hair back, the charred fabric of your shirt flapping in the wind. you try to urge seokmin to stand up, to run away from the oncoming blaze, but he’s still staring up at you with that stupid, dopey smile of his.

“seokmin, get up! we have to go!”

your words fly over him. “please? we can get wonwoo to officiate. hao and gyu can be our flower girls!”

he’s smiling widely at you, but there are tears pooling in his eyes.

“lee seokmin…” your free hand cups his chin. he nuzzles into it, eyes closed with content. your throat tightens up as you choke your next words out. “the world is falling apart.” you sniff. “we can’t–“

“we can! right here, right now…” he scrambles to his feet, this time both his hands enveloping yours. it’s a familiar comfort, how his thumbs rub over your knuckles. they’ve gotten rough with scratches, but your heart tugs at how gentle he’s treating you still. he slides the flower onto your ring finger, and you can’t help but choke back a sob.

he’s right: what more is there to lose? at the very least, you’ll be going out as lee seokmin’s wife; is that so bad? it’s a title you thought you would hold in at least a few more years.

you finally nod, tears falling freely down your face. from the corner of your eye, you spot wonwoo frantically waving at the both of you to run to safety… not that anywhere seemed safe enough anymore. you wear your own toothy grin, the very one seokmin falls in love everyday with, and you give his hands a tight squeeze.

“…okay. let’s get married.”

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday - vu

hhu, vu, pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.

part 2

wc: 4537

a/n: thank u to the people who requested this <3 so sorry its so longshdkks pls lmk if u want a pt. 2 with a resolution. not proofread btw </3

masterlist

jeonghan -

jeonghan wasn't a big drinker by any means. sure, he enjoyed the occasional drink with his friends, but it wasnt much of a habit. being a member of seventeen, however, it was quite often that he found himself around alcohol. quite a few of his members enjoyed sharing drinks with one another whenever their schedules allowed. jeonghan, being jeonghan, would always join them, enjoying nothing more than to be around the company of his most loved ones. unfortunately, during these instances he was also away from you, seeing as drinks with his friends tended to be right after work, just before he arrived home to you. this would cause him to make his way into your arms later than usual on the days his friends dragged him away to a pub. you didn't usually mind this, only occasionally pouting at him when he'd come home a bit later than usual without texting you about it beforehand.

today was one of the many days in which jeonghan had found himself at a discreet pub in seoul, accompanied by none other than mingyu, seokmin, chan, seungcheol and joshua, who were all pretty heavy drinkers whenever the mood struck them. jeonghan had prior plans today; it was your birthday tomorrow, so he knew he needed to get home at a timely hour in order to allow you to fall asleep in his arms as your birthday celebrations began. those plans were, however, slightly interrupted by the insistence of a choi seungcheol who adored jeonghan's company and insisted he tag along, even if only for a little while. jeonghan didn't see any harm in this, knowing he didn't have much of a tendency of getting drunk at these gatherings. he could easily make an appearance for one or two hours before excusing himself to go find refuge in your arms.

except that did not happen.

jeonghan wasn't sure how events had turned this way. he had lost most of his sense of self five shots in (what the hell was mingyu feeding him?). he began to go in and out of consciousness, still being aware of his surroundings, but not having many more thoughts past that. the one thing that did manage to slip his mind, however, was his plan to go home to you before the clock struck 12, as it was now 1 in the am. he had fully disregarded his phone too, too distracted with his friends to notice the vibrations on the table.

he woke up the next morning at about 12pm, insane headache and in familiar surroundings. it was joshua's house, he was pretty sure. and he wasn't alone. seungcheol and the rest were also located in different areas of the living room which jeonghan had awoken in. how did he even get here, he wondered. must've called a cab last night. but wait, his phone was out of battery last time he checked it. must've been one of the boys then.

none of these things mattered to jeonghan right now, so he simply got up and charged his phone, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water as he made conversation with joshua, who was the only other member awake at the moment. as soon as his phone charged, jeonghan headed over to grab it, immediately noticing a total tally of 19 notifications, all from you. had something happened? you didn't tend to message him so much. he immediately worried, hurrying to open the messages.

turned out he was right, something had happened.

it clicked almost immediately, with the tone of your texts expressing varying emotions as time progressed, and the date above the messages confirming his suspicions; it was your birthday today, and jeonghan was hung over at his best friend's house. he had no idea how he'd been so irresponsible. he knew he'd be a bit later than usual, but he was so sure he'd still make it home to you before midnight. but that had clearly been wrong. jeonghan dreaded it, but he decided to call you, to at least assess if your mood was as sour as the messages showed.

you picked up within three rings, immediately voicing your concerns at him.

"jeonghan? are you okay? you didnt come home last night," okay, you were worried about him! that was a good sign, right?

"i- angel, i'm so sorry. i'm okay. time got away from me and i ended up blacked out at shua's. shit, i'm so sorry, angel. i'll-"

"were you just drinking the whole time?", you paused, sighing before continuing, "you couldn't even message me or anything? you ditched me today of all days to get black out drunk with your friends? are you serious?", you paused again, not giving him enough time to respond, "you made me spend my birthday worried you didn't make it home. with no communication. jesus christ, jeonghan ..."

"angel. fuck. i'm so fucking sorry. i'll come home right now. it's still your birthday! let me make it up to you, yeah? i'll do whatever you want, just-"

"you know what, han? ... just stay there. we can do this some other day. i'm not really in the mood right now. i'll call you later today, okay? love you."

"wait, angel, no. just let me-"

he wasnt able to complete his sentence, as he was met with a beeping sound, informing him the line was disconnected. he stood there dumbfounded at what had just happened, not knowing how to react.

"man, you're fucked," chuckled joshua, who had heard the whole conversation.

yeah, he had fucked up big time.

joshua -

today was a terrible day. well, no. it was an amazing day actually. it was your birthday. it shouldve been an amazing day. except due to uncontrollable circumstances, your boyfriend joshua had to be away from you for the entirety of the week. there was an award show going on overseas, in which your boyfriend and the rest of seventeen had to be in attendance.

he had planned a beautiful day for you, really. he had wanted to spend the whole day with you, tending to your every need. he was going to wake you up with breakfast - prepared by himself, of course. then he would take you out to a secluded restaurant to ensure privacy. he had even planned to give you a serenade (he knew you would just call him corny, but could be be blamed for being in love?). he had communicated all this to you as he lamented his sudden absence to you a week before the day of his departure. you had accepted it, being touched by the mere thought. he'd promised you he would still be with you on your special day. although the award show was that same day, he promised to come back to the hotel as soon as time would allow and provide you with his company even if it was only through the phone.

and now it was that time. seeing as he was in japan and you in his home back in korea, there was no timezone to worry about. you'd simply have to wait at home for him to return and give you a call. it was now 6pm. it was understandable he would still be busy. you knew he had packed rehearsals all morning, so his only chance to call you would be later in the night. he had still sent you a few messages congratulating you on your big day and reminding you to be ready for him at around 8pm.

it was now 8:33pm. you had expected him to be a bit late, so you didn't mind it. the award show had been live, and it had ended at around 7:30. however, you knew it would likely take him a while to get ready and to get back to the hotel. so you waited patiently, knowing your boyfriend to always stand by his word.

it was at 9:33 that you began to worry. you had already sent him a few texts, not wanting to bother him in case something was going on. you pondered about texting his members just to make sure everything was okay, but decided against it. you didn't want to be pushy.

it wasn't until the clock hit midnight that you'd given up. by then you had already called a few times, only being met by his voicemail. at 12:18 you called his manager, knowing that was your last resort. the response you received was disheartening to say the least. he had informed you that your boyfriend and his group had been taken to an after party, claiming it had been a last minute thing, but that they'd all seemed pretty enthusiastic about it. you decided not to voice your annoyance to joshua's unsuspecting manager, instead choosing to go to sleep, sad and dejected.

the next morning when you woke up to 28 messages and 5 missed calls from joshua, you turned off your phone, disregarding him in the same way he had you. happy birthday to you.

jihoon -

despite popular belief, jihoon was not as emotionally constipated as he seemed. he was a great boyfriend, always making sure you felt loved and tended to. you were always one his top priorities, so he would do his best to spend as much time with you despite his packed schedule. you were also one of the only people who made him want to clock out at the end of the day, knowing you'd always be home waiting for him with open arms. jihoon, however, still had the tendency of sometimes holing himself up in his studio. during these periods of time, jihoon would cut off most contact from the outside world, being hard to reach for a few days as he stayed over at his studio without ever making it home.

this week was one of those times. jihoon never really scheduled these occasions. they'd just somehow end up happening whenever he had a spurt of inspiration, being able to conjure an entire series of songs he believed would perform well together. he liked to keep things organized, after all. any time he disappeared for over 24 hours, you could safely assume he was in his studio, not even allowing himself the simple pleasure of going on his phone to message you. for entertainment, he would sometimes allow himself some anime in between work, but not much more than that. he'd still leave the studio occasionally to show up to dance practice and such, but he would not interact with anyone other than his members, his manager, and maybe some staff if need be.

he knew this might be a bit too much, but it was all part of the creative process. as of today, it had been three days since he had left the hybe building, having given his manager full control over his phone as he wished to remain as productive as possible. he knew that one single text from you and he'd haul ass back home, too lost in the bliss of your presence to get himself to do any work. he missed you, of course, but this was not your first rodeo. the two of you had gone through this before, and it seemed like you accepted his weird work habits, having never complained nor shown discomfort over them. which was why he was quite shocked upon finally exiting the building four days later and calling you up in order to finally check in on you, but not finding the usual response.

the first thing he did as soon as he got his phone back was he call a few times, but he had received no response, which was quite strange from you. he knew it was kind of hypocritical to expect an immediate response considering he had gone off the grid for a few days, but he also knew you were usually free at this hour, so he had expected the usual reaction in which you'd jokingly curse him out for ghosting you followed by an invitation to come over.

he decided then to open his imessage, choosing to instead text you and maybe check in on any of the notifications that never arrived due to having kept his phone muted and away from his reach for the past few days. that was when he realized his grave mistake.

from: my love ❤️‍🩹

(sun) baby

(sun) babyyyy

(sun) where are you? i thought u were gonna sleep over tonight? did u forget about tomorrow?

(sun) okay i called u and ur not picking up im gonna assume ur busy. ill call u again tmrrw then. gn hoonie <3

(mon) okay i gave u most of the morning but its 12 now ... i assumed you'd come back yesterday night. are u at the studio?

(mon) are u rlly holed up there today of all days?? we talked about today last week.

(mon) baby :((

(mon) i dont wanna bother u. take ur time. call me whenever ur done i guess :(

that was when your texts had stopped, two days ago after you had seemingly realized he did not have his phone on him. he also noticed a few missed calls from you during those two days, halting upon the second day of no responses from him.

it had not clicked at first, until he noticed the date above the first text, detailing a day before your birthday. the rest of the messages were sent on the date itself, stopping that same day at his lack of response. the realization made jihoon stop in his tracks. how could it have slipped his mind? not only had he forgotten but he had literally left you in the dark during your special day, even continuing his lack of contact for the next two days. his spiraling thoughts were interrupted by you finally calling him back, something that filled jihoon with hope that you weren't angry at him.

"jiho-"

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. i swear to you it just slipped my mind. i'll go home right now and make it up to you, i promise," he interrupted you before you could say anything.

you paused before responding, "jihoon. was work that important? was i that easy to forget? i respect your job, but you decided that day of all days?"

"it wasnt on purpose! baby, please just let me- let me come over and i swear we can have the day together. ill take off tomorrow too. the whole week! im so sorry."

"im ... im not really in the mood to see you right now, hoonie. it's been three days. i thought about just barging in your studio, but i didnt want to be that type of person. i had the stupid hope that you'd show up, that it wasnt that easy to just disregard me, but i was wrong. clearly."

"baby ... im so so sorry. i .. i'll give you your space. can i .. can i see you tomorrow then? please?"

"i'll call you to let you know, okay?"

jihoon held his breath at this, but quietly accepted your request, "i .. okay, baby. i love you."

"yeah, love you too," except your tone was cold, followed by the beeping of the phone, signaling the call had been disconnected.

seokmin -

many people knew seokmin as the embodiment of boyfriend material. or that was at least what many of his fans called him. in reality, he was even better than what cameras showed. he was the nicest, most respectful boyfriend imaginable, always providing you with everything you could ever need and more. he'd come home with flowers on a regular basis, he'd call you every single day to check in on you. he'd make you breakfast any time he had to leave before you, wanting to make sure you were well fed before a new day. he'd go above and beyond on any and every ordinary day in order to show you his utmost affections for you. don't even get you started on your birthday, which was a national holiday in seokmin's eyes. a day dedicated exclusively to celebrating the birth of his beloved? sign him up! nothing beat a day in which he could freely express all types of love towards you. he was over the moon every 365 days, knowing his favorite day would come again and again.

he had a huge day planned for you this year. there was a carnival in town, so he had planned to grab his manager and sneak out there with you for an hour or so before taking you back home. he also planned a cute moonlit dinner out on his balcony upon arriving home. it was all perfectly romantic, just like every other of his gestures towards you. he had the day marked on his calendar, only counting down the days until it finally arrived.

unfortunately for you both, your birthday landed on a work day for seokmin, who actually worked every day, really. but it was fine! seokmin had planned around that. he had his regular rehearsals plus a public appearance at a fashion show in the evening, along with a quick appearance at the afterparty, but after that he was all yours. he had to stay at the dorms this past week, having an extremely packed schedule, but he had made sure to text you a huge good morning paragraph detailing his love for you and how thankful he was you were his (just usual seokmin behavior, to be honest).

the fashion show had passed by quickly, having only taken a few hours. the after party, however, had been dragging a bit. it was now 6:04pm. he had promised you he would be home by 6:30, giving you enough time for the quick outing he had planned, plus a romantic dinner afterwards. he knew he still had time, but he was still worried he might not be able to follow through with his plans. the last thing he wanted was to be late. he currently had no way to communicate with you either, as his manager had possession of his phone while he was in such public schedules.

he lingered a little, making conversation with anyone he knew. there were many familiar faces, with a majority being that of actors who were also ambassadors of the various luxury brands at the event. he even saw a few actors he had been dying to meet. he felt badly at having such a good time while you were at home probably awaiting his return, but that thought left his mind as soon as a few of his musical performer friends approached him, engaging him in conversation. if there was anything seokmin was, it was overly friendly. he never said no to a conversation with friends, always being the energy maker in any and every relationship. however, it was easy for him to lose track of time and space whenever he found himself in conversation with friends, which was how time once again got away from him.

seokmin hadn't realized time had escaped him so quickly until his manager came up to him, quietly interrupting seokmin's lively conversation with his friends to inform him that his phone had been vibrating nonstop. fuck. he completely spaced out. checking his phone, he realized it was now 8:47pm. how had time passed by so quickly? he wad a bit buzzed, but he had no idea how he got caught up in conversation for so long. it was now too late to take you to the carnival, but he could still make it home for the romantic dinner. yes, okay. everything was fine. or at least that's what he thought until finally reading the 10 unanswered messages on his phone (while wincing at the 6 unanswered calls, also from you).

from: my love 😍

(5:32) cant wait for tonight baby <33

(5:32) i even bought a new dress hehe hope u like it ;)

(6:38) baby, are you gonna be running a bit late? it's fine, no rush! just pls let me know so i dont worry haha

(6:49) minnie ... is everything okay?

(7:14) minnie :(( are you coming soon?

(7:45) okay i called u a few times now ... do you not have ur phone on you? idk ur manager's number baby idk how to reach u rn :(

(7:53) they close the carnival at 8, i guess thats not happening anymore is it

(8:16) its so unlike u to keep me in the dark like this. i checked ur location and ur still at the event .. im assuming it ran late?

(8:23) its mean of u to keep me unaware of whats going on minnie

(8:35) okay nvm. u can just stay there. ill see if one of my friends wants to go out. goodnight.

the messages kept getting worse the more he read. he couldn't believe it slipped his mind like this. he planned it for weeks, even adjusting his schedule for it. and now he had ruined it all just because he felt like catching up with some friends.

he wasnt sure what to do. he had kept you in the dark all night, not even letting you know he wouldnt have his phone on him for a majority of it. he knew this was just an accidental slip of his mind, but that still didnt remove the way he hurt you. all he could do now was run home and await for your own return, hoping that you'd understand his mistake.

seungkwan -

such an outgoing guy like seungkwan always had high demand. they did call him the energy maker for a reason. his presence would always light up a room, which was one of the things you loved most about him. you'd met him in a very public setting, being able to witness first-hand how well he got along with, well, everyone.

however, his outgoing personality did come with some faults. due to having such high demand among friends and colleagues, it was sometimes a bit difficult to share seungkwan. yes, he was not yours per say, but he was your boyfriend. you liked to think you had special privileges that gave you exclusive access to his company that not everyone else had. and you did. seungkwan always gave you top priority when it came to sharing his time. he'd always let you know how much he cared for you, always babying you and tending to your every need. there was nothing in this world he loved more than you, his beloved, which was why it was easy for him to put everything aside whenever necessary.

now, you were not one to hog your boyfriend. you never wanted to be that person who insisted on having access to your boyfriend 24/7, nor would you ever want to keep him away from his friends. it was with this mentality that you had let your boyfriend know it was fine if he had previous engagements on the day of your birthday, letting him know that you'd be more than happy that day as long as he came home to you for a nice night together. he'd informed you that he'd be done with work that day at around 4pm, letting you know that he'd pay a quick visit to some of his 98-liner friends afterwards before going home to you. he had apologized to you for the bad timing over and over again, telling you that this was the only day they all had a day off all at once and would not be able to to gather for a few months after that. he'd insisted he would be quick, wanting nothing more than to head back to you as soon as possible. you'd assured him it was okay, being happy he'd be with you on your special day at all.

so now you were waiting. you'd spent part of the day with friends and family, not having seen seungkwan since the prior day due to his stay at the dorms this past week. you didn't mind this, though, as you were used to occasional separation due to his career. he had sent you a message in the morning, wishing you a happy birthday and once more confirming he'd be back home soon, prepared to celebrate your day. when it became a bit later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to continue to wait, not wanting to be pushy while he was with friends. when it became a lot later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to message him. but your messages went unanswered. you then began to call, receiving no response. it went like this until around 10pm, when you had finally chose to just change into your pajamas, only to be interrupted by a call from the man himself.

"baby! i'm so sorry, i just got your messages. i lost track of time, i swear! eunwoo and mingyu called me up while i was with my friends, and they were on live, so i had to go or else it'd look bad. don't be mad at gyu! he had no idea. i was supposed to just stay for a bit, but the live kept on dragging. i swear im on my way right now, i'll be there in-"

"kwan," you sighed, "not even a text? i dont understand. i didnt want to be pushy but .. today? i cant even lie to you. i'm disappointed."

"baby .. i'm so sorry. i completely spaced out. it's totally my fault. i got too caught up with my friends and then when mingyu called, i was too buzzed to even think straight. i- im sorry. i love you. please don't be mad," you could hear him pout from across the line, a bit frantic as he explained.

you sighed again, frustrated since you did tell him it was okay for him to be with his friends, but still sad he had forgotten you so easily, "i'm not mad, kwannie. just sad. i wish you'd called me to let me know you wouldnt be here at all today."

"but i will be! i'm heading there right now, baby, i swear!"

"i dont ... i dont think i wanna do anything anymore, kwan. im sorry," you felt childish and immature, but you really did not want to see him right now. you knew your emotions would only get the best of you. having your boyfriend choose to be away from you on your birthday was beginning to get to you.

"oh," he paused for a beat before continuing, "i- i understand. can i ... can i come over tomorrow morning, then?"

"you have work tomorrow. you have work every day, kwan. you dont have to-"

"please? let me see you tomorrow?"

"i- yeah. okay. i'll see you then."

"thank you ... happy birthday, my love. i love you. please dont forget that."

"love you too, kwannie," you felt sad as you said it, but you knew you still meant it. you just needed to sleep on it to ease the disappointment. or so you hoped.

[chheolie]

i kinda dreamed i was having a big argument with seokmin, so i decided to write down how it went….. sorry, it turned into a bit of an angst

the muffled sound of the crowd in the stadium seeped into the backstage dressing room as the staff adjusted your outfit. you tried to focus on the conversation with your group members, but this definitely wasn’t your day. you did vocal warm-ups, trying to concentrate solely on the show that was about to begin.

you knew he was there; you heard him greeting everyone with his sweet and gentle manner, but you forced yourself not to glance back at him.

“i came to wish you a good show, love,” he said, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“thank you,” you pulled away from his embrace, pretending to adjust your bracelets.

he frowned, noticing how strange you were acting. “is everything okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you, but you moved away.

“yes, everything’s fine. i’m just trying to focus,” you replied without looking at him, your tone colder than you intended.

seokmin remained silent for a moment, thoughts beginning to swirl in his mind. he didn’t understand the reason for your coldness but decided not to press you at that moment. “alright. i’ll be watching you,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

“okay,” you said before heading toward the stage. seokmin stood there, watching you walk away with a strange feeling gnawing at his mind. something was wrong, and he had no idea what.

as you performed, seokmin watched you from the side of the stage with a few members. while the guys cheered, seokmin, although admiring you immensely on stage, was distracted, filled with questions. why were you avoiding him? what could he have done to make you act this way?

when the performance ended, you left the stage with a deep sigh of relief, glad you had managed to get through it without faltering, without showing the audience that you were not okay.

the guys congratulated you, what seokmin wanted most was to be there doing the same, but you had built a wall between you recently.

“what happened, y/n?” he asked cautiously, when he could finally be alone with you. “why do i feel like you don’t want me around?”

you sighed, trying to balance the tension you were feeling. “we’ll talk later, you still have a show to perform.” you turned to the mirror to remove your accessories. “i don’t want to distract you.”

“distract me from what? please, y/n, i’m going crazy trying to figure out what’s going on in your head.” he was losing patience with your mystery.

reluctantly, you started to speak. “it’s about yesterday…”

“what about yesterday?” he leaned on the vanity, standing next to you, looking at you, hoping you would look at him too.

his presence there, so close, drew your attention. his gaze pleaded for an answer. you took a deep breath, feeling defeated.

you went to your bag and took out your phone, opened the group chat you have with your members, and showed him one of the photos that had been sent there. then you turned the screen so he could see.

he looked at the photo and then back at you, waiting for an explanation.

“why wasn’t i there?” you asked with sadness in your voice.

before he could answer, you continued, “i didn’t even know you guys went out. i was left out, and it feels like… like i don’t matter.”

you felt deeply hurt when you opened the messages and saw that photo. in it, your boyfriend was happy with some members of his group and yours. you weren’t there; no one asked if you wanted to join. seokmin simply forgot about you.

seokmin blinked, surprised. “love… i thought you just didn’t want to go.”

“of course, it makes perfect sense for me to think it’s fine for you all to be so close in that photo while i’m in my hotel room doing nothing,” you replied sarcastically.

you were referring to a member of your group who is a close friend of seokmin, a friendship that often shakes your insecurities.

“y/n, i didn’t even notice… i was just with my friends. you’re overreacting,” he was shocked by how you were reacting.

“sure…” you took your phone from his hand and turned away, complaining. “you don’t understand how i feel, so we don’t need to continue this…” you bent down to put your phone in the corner of the room.

“this is ridiculous.” his voice came out loudly, making you turn to look at him. “you’re making something out of nothing. just stop!”

you felt a pang in your heart and the urge to cry started to rise, but you refused to break down in front of him.

“ridiculous? what’s ridiculous? my feelings?” you asked, still bent over, staring into his eyes. “it’s fine, seokmin, keep ignoring how i feel.”

“i’m not ignoring it, but i can’t control how you feel. this is your insecurity, not my fault,” he retorted, not realizing the weight of his words until it was too late.

you were left speechless, unable to respond. you had reached your limit. you blinked, feeling tears run down, but you refused to let them fall completely. “i… never mind. have a good show, seokmin,” was all you could say before turning and walking out, leaving him standing there, slowly realizing the impact of what he had said.

he went on stage feeling a heavy weight on his shoulders. throughout the show, he managed, as best as he could, to keep things together, although it wasn’t easy to be the playful, energetic dk he used to be on stage. but at one specific moment, he faltered.

it was when jeonghan asked if the audience enjoyed the previous show. seokmin was overwhelmed with emotion, realizing how insensitive he had been to you. the regret was so strong that he couldn’t hold back the tears.

when they finally got off stage, the members went to check what had happened to leave him in such a state. he still hadn’t shared with them because he didn’t want to think about it too much.

“i just need to talk to y/n,” he replied, as he sobbed.

“did you two have a fight?” seungcheol asked calmly, touching his member’s shoulder.

seokmin nodded, “and i was an idiot.” he could barely speak.

“don’t worry, you love each other… i know you’ll be able to work it out.” the leader tried to reassure his member, who had a desperate look on his face.

“hyung, where is y/n?” seokmin asked as the manager approached.

“uh… she left shortly after you went on stage,” he answered awkwardly.

“she left…?” seokmin asked with a trembling voice, and the manager nodded with concern.

you were in your hotel room. you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, so you began your skincare routine to prepare your skin for a night’s sleep, which you knew wouldn’t be very restful.

seokmin going out with his friends without you isn’t something that bothers you that much, really. but whenever she is involved, things feel different for you. it’s as if you’re haunted. she’s a member of your group, and you have a great relationship. but because she’s so beautiful, so sociable, and incredibly talented, sometimes you weigh yourself and wonder why seokmin is still with you.

but, of course, he only has eyes for you, and you are the only one who holds his heart. you caught him from the very first time you saw each other, and he’s so in love with you that your insecurity makes no sense to him. he simply cannot envision a scenario where he would have to choose between someone and you. because, for him, it has always been you. since day one.

the sound of the door unlocking jolted you from your thoughts. you knew it was him. although you weren’t sharing the same room, both of you had access to each other’s rooms.

“y/n… i…” his voice was trembling, clearly afraid of intruding on your space. “can we talk?” he asked.

“what’s left to say, seokmin? isn’t it enough for today?” you asked, looking at him through the reflection of the mirror, remembering how harshly he had scolded you.

“i’m sorry, i hurt you and i’m regretting it.” he took long strides toward you but stopped at the distance you had imposed earlier.

you nodded, tired and lacking the energy to start another round of arguments. but seokmin wanted to make sure you knew just how much he loved you before the day ended.

“i just don’t want to go to bed without you knowing that i love you so much, and at no point did i ever think about replacing you,” he started, his voice filled with sincerity.

“you are unique in my heart and in my thoughts,” he continued, his eyes shining with intensity. “damn, y/n, only you give me what i need, when no one else even notices my wants.”

the tears you had been holding began to fall, his words touching deeply in your heart, which seemed to ache from the love you felt for him.

“what do i need to do for you to understand that there is no one but you?” he asked, defeated.

you approached him cautiously, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him. he immediately wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, holding you as if he never wanted to let you go.

“i’m sorry for doubting your feelings, my love,” you said with your voice muffled, your face buried in his neck. “i love you so much that sometimes i feel like i don’t deserve you.”

“never say that again,” he gently scolded you, still holding you close.

“that i love you?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of humor.

“the other part,” he replied, with a slight laugh. “i’m sorry for not inviting you to hang out with us. i thought the girls had already talked to you.”

“normally, i prefer to stay in the room when we’re on tour, so they don’t even consider inviting me out anymore… they’re used to it,” you explained.

“ah… then i feel twice as guilty,” he admitted, still with a guilty smile on his lips.

“why?” you pulled away a little to look him in the eyes.

“first, for not inviting you, and second, because i usually go out with the guys after the show,” he replied, trying to keep it light.

“hmm… it’s good that we’re on tour together, i’m learning more about what my boyfriend is like when i’m away,” you said, joking.

“am i in trouble?” he asked, his eyes still red from crying minutes earlier.

you responded with a long, calm kiss, your hands stroking his hair, while feeling his smile forming between your lips. seokmin held you, pulling you even closer, as he murmured between kisses: “i love you… i love you so much.”

[miabebe]

Where you're convenient (II)

Scenario - Yes it was circumstances that forced these arrangements but why was it that at its breaking point, all you want to do is hold on to it?

Pairing - Husband! Seokmin × reader

Genre - smut with lots of plot, fluff fluff fluff cause there's a kid 👀, and angsty angsty pining hehe

Word Count - 11K (as usual, I apologise)

Warnings - oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (well there's babies wanted here so), riding, cum eating

A/n -  part 2 is finally here! These keep getting longer idk why 😭 I'm gonna take a small break and shift attention to my series before I return for part 3 (woozi)!

P.s all 3 parts are not related, they can be read individually, they simply share the same trope of marriage of convenience which I'm an absolute sucker for 🙃 Read Joshua's here!

The moment Seokmin’s eyes fell on the entrance of the overpriced restaurant, he knew exactly why his sister insisted on this meeting.

Sighing deeply, he parked his car in a vacant lot and ran his fingers through his untamed hair, glancing at his reflection of the mirror. There was no need to look his best for this meeting, just presentable would do - after all, he was not here to impress. Grabbing the bag you handed him earlier today, he made his way in, eyes falling on his sister and her company - a pretty woman, definitely around his age since clearly, this was yet another attempt to set him up on a date.

He greeted them with his usual sweet smile before hugging his devil of a sister, whispering a bunch of obscene words in her ear which she coolly ignored, habituated to his reaction to such meetings over time. Although he was already prepared to leave, he slid across the boxes of cupcakes you made and took a seat, pulling out his phone, while his sister raved to her friend about how you made the best cupcakes in the world.

Seokmin 17:48: Just met Minseo. Should be home in an hour. Traffic's really bad.

And then his sister began her usual business of introducing her friend to him, then him to her, then mentioning how 'surprisingly' the two of them were so similar, subtly hinting how they would be so compatible.

Seokmin rolled his eyes, familiar with this drill, listening to her blabber with a struggling, polite smile. This was quite a frequent occurrence - every now and then Minseo would bring a friend or colleague to introduce them, afraid that her useless brother would die single given how uninterested he was in dating. Today's friend was Sumi, her colleague from the first ever company she worked in, who was apparently his age, recently single, also loved pizza and working out. Barely interested in the ongoing conversation, Seokmin kept glancing at his phone time and again, relieved when it finally buzzed.

You 18:04: Okay, have fun with MinSeo, tell her I said hi!

You 18:04: Also, look at this [attachment]

It was a photo of Aera, her mouth, hands and clothes covered in a light pink frosting as she laughed at the camera both innocently and mischievously.

You 18:05: I swear to god, I can't look away from her for a second.

"Are you even listening Min-ah?

Seokmin looked up at both ladies staring at him with a tinge of annoyance and turned his phone to show them the picture that was making him smile so ridiculously. Instantly, they broke out into a series of awws and little praises making his heart swell with pride. That was his daughter after all.

"Isn't she the cutest?" Sumi looked up from his phone. "She's two and a half right?"

"Actually she's 2 years and 10 months." Seokmin took back his phone, taking another look at the love of his life. "Born in May."

"A Taurus baby?"

"Gemini." He corrected. "Last week of May."

"She must be quite the troublemaker huh?"

"You have no idea." Seokmin laughed typing a reply.

Seokmin 18:08: What have you done to my sweet angel?

"Shall we order food first?" Minseo picked the menu card. "What about pizza-"

"Not for me." Seokmin shook his head. "I'm not eating. In fact, I have to leave soon."

"Min-ah, come on, you're seeing me after so long-"

"I literally saw you last week, at mum's place."

"But it's your first time meeting Sumi, don't be rude."

Seokmin turned to her friend. "I'm sorry, I would stay longer but I haven't seen my daughter all day and I'm sure there's food at home already." He glanced at his sister before turning back. "I don't know if you know, but my wife makes really good food, she's a chef."

"A pastry chef." His sister corrected. "I mean no one makes desserts better than her but you're the better cook. "

You 18:10: Angel? She's the devil spawn, this little thing.

Seokmin 18:11: Are you calling me the devil? How dare you

"Maybe," He looked up from his phone. "But I always eat dinner made by my wife."

Minseo rolled her eyes yet again, but Sumi nodded understandingly. When the two women discussed for 20 whole minutes, finally placed an order for themselves and Sumi excused herself to the washroom, Seokmin turned to his sister.

"Why won't you give up?"

"Why won't you give in?"

"Because, everyone you try to set me up with is not my type.."

"Really?" Minseo raised an eyebrow. "What about Sumi is not your type? You two are literally the same people."

"Yeah well, did you see her nails? Clearly she loves manicures and stuff like that."

His sister blinked, lost. "And that's a problem because?"

"I have a child you idiot, I can't have those claws around her?"

"So she'll stop getting them done. That should solve your issue."

"I don't want anyone to change themselves or give up on things they like because of me."

"I'm about to kick your ass Lee Seokmin." She muttered angrily. "I have tried to set you up with all kinds of women yet no one is good enough. What do you want Min-ah?"

"What do you want? Why do you keep dragging me to these-"

"Because I want to see you happy!"

"I am happy!"

"Say what you want Seokmin, that's not a happy marriage."

He sighed. "What problem do you have with Y/n?"

"With Y/n?" She looked at him perplexed. "Not one damn thing. In fact when you leave her, I might just ask her to marry me, I love that woman so much. The question is......do you?"

Seokmin blinked, not finding the words. Love? Sure he had a crush on you a couple of years ago but to be honest, nearly everyone did. He was in his final year of culinary school when he caught sight of you at the freshers party, walking in in that tight silver dress, looking like a dream. Rumor was you already had a boyfriend so Seokmin simply introduced himself and walked away, letting that little crush of his fade over time. Soon after, he successfully graduated, got a job at a Michelin star restaurant and life was good until he met you again, almost 4 years later at an alumni party.

Now, did Seokmin still have a crush on you? He didn't know really, he didn't even have the time to sort his feelings, not when you were giving him the flirtiest eyes, hands and body moving not very decently on the dance floor and especially not when you dragged him by the collar to a nearby room and the two of you fucked for hours.

"You always go silent when I ask you this Min-ah. It's a simple yes or no question."

Minseo looked expectantly at her brother who had now diverted his attention to the notification bar and time on his phone - you had still not replied to him. Panic slightly bubbled in his chest. Was something wrong?

He quickly downed the glass of water before of him and grabbed his bag.

"I'm sorry noona, I should head home. I think Y/n needs me."

Before she could reply, he dropped a kiss on her forehead and ran out to the parking, leaving his sighing sister behind. Through the glass she watched her brother rush away in his car, wondering how many more of such set ups it would take before he admitted what he felt for you.

Though Seokmin wanted to get back home as soon as possible, with all that traffic, all he could do was wait, fingers tapping on the wheel, mind getting restless. It was not like you to take so long to reply, he knew that much. Sinking back into the car seat, he glanced out at the streets that he no longer walked down ever since he became a father. The life of leisure he once lived was no longer a possibility because now he lived only for his daughter. And you.

It wasn't a part of his life plan to become a father so young but apparently, things have their own way of panning out. He was supposed to become a famous chef, open his own chain of restaurants, establish himself as a successful businessman and retire by 45. Instead, he found himself getting a phone call from an unknown number about 2 months after that fateful night of the alumni party. It was you.

It was indeed strange that you asked to meet up at your workplace considering the two of you had made it very clear to each other that this was a one time thing, but he went regardless. Over a cup of coffee and a piece of cake you broke the news that you were pregnant and the child was his. Now Seokmin knew condoms were not 100% effective but that night the two of you had used quite a few of them, given how many rounds went down.

You told him you were going to have the child and if he wanted, he could be a part of the baby's life too. Of course he wanted to, even though this entirely threw off his life plan, of course he would be a part of his child's life, there was no question. Seokmin had grown up without the presence of a father his whole life and he knew what the felt like - there was not a chance he would let that child go through the same as well. So he told you he was there for whatever you needed and however you needed him.

The first trimester was quite uneventful. Seokmin had barely seen you after that meeting in the cafe - the two of you would just keep in touch via texts. He would check up to make sure you were eating on time and that the morning sickness wasn't too much. You would simply answer his questions and thank him. But you didn't ever ask much of him.

By your second trimester, he had moved into the building across yours so he could be near you for anything you wanted and everything you needed. He helped drive you to and from your prenatal visits, did grocery runs whenever you worked too late, carried your bags and boxes up the stairs. It was all on his own though, you still had asked for any favours.

The first thing you had ever asked of him was nearly a month later, around the 7th month of your pregnancy. In the middle of a rainy night, with a small bag slung over your shoulder, you had knocked on this door, mildly drenched and shivering. Seokmin instantly panicked even though you repeatedly assured him you were alright. The problem was your dick of an ex boyfriend, constantly knocking down your front door leaving you no choice but to take the fire escape and come here. That man had been behind you for months, insisting you take him back into your life, not taking no for an answer. His persistence had forced you to even change homes and numbers over the last year but now somehow, he had managed to find you again. You asked if you could stay here for a day or two till he stopped bothering you and Seokmin immediately agreed. He had no idea you were going through all this.

One day turned to two and two became a week. Seokmin had now began accompanying you almost everywhere, constantly keeping an eye on your surroundings and it was a miracle he hadn't landed a punch on that slime ball of an ex of yours. That man would harass and embarrass you publicly, he would turn up drunk at the doorstep and create a scene, throwing up and passing out, he would follow you to your workplace and just sit in the store hours on end. Things became exponentially worse when he found out that you and Seokmin were not in fact in a relationship, just expecting a child together - he went ballistic with his attempts to get you back.

Panic rose in Seokmins chest just thinking about those days years ago, hoping to god everything was fine at home. He glanced at his phone again as he parked his car and rushed out, bolting up the stairs, unable to wait for the lift. When he opened the door of his apartment, toys and books and things were scattered everywhere, in the middle of the living room, a bunch of disorganised chairs and sheets haphazardly thrown around.

Seokmin slowly and quietly approached the mess pushing everything aside, heart racing in his chest, thoughts plaguing his mind till he spotted you and his little girl, fast asleep in what was clearly a blanket fort, making him sigh in relief. Your phone was lying next to you and Aera was lying on top, head snuggled in your chest, raising and falling rhythmically. You looked so beautiful tired, sleeping with your hair askew and mouth slightly open - seeing the mess all around, Seokmin knew it must have been one of Aera's uncontrollably active days. He smiled at the way your arm protectively wrapped around her and how she clung onto you - watching the two of you together was always his favourite thing to do. But he knew it must hurt to carry her weight on top for so long so he slowly crouched and quietly tried to take his daughter into his arms but the moment he lifted her-

"Daddy!"

Seokmin laughed as his girl, now somehow fully awake, began excitedly moving in his arms in a little dance to welcome him home, giggling away. He stood up, hugging her back and peppering her tiny face with kisses as she proceeded to sing loudly in joy. (She truly did take after him.) He watched her amused, trying to make out what in the world she was saying, when you let out a soft groan, making him turn. As you stretched awake, yawning and sighing, eyes slowly fluttering open, flashing him a sleepy smile, Seokmin felt his heart flip in his chest.

"Why, why, why doesn't your daughter sleep Mr. Lee?"

He chuckled. "I think she takes after you Ms. L/n."

"Oh no no, I was always the obedient child in the house. Your sister told me you were the troublemaker."

"You're calling this cutie a troublemaker?" Seokmin scrunched the cheeks of his daughter earning the cutest laugh. "She looks like the best baby in the world to me."

You sighed, getting up and rubbing soft circles her tummy.

"You're always gonna be daddy's baby girl aren't you?"

You could too if you want to.

Seokmin ignored his stupid mind voice and glanced at your tired self, slightly worried. "How was your day?"

"Decent." You smiled. "I was working on orders in the morning - there was a baby shower I had to cater for in the afternoon. I swear, I stepped out into the balcony to take a call for literally 5 minutes and your 'best' baby here had lathered herself in all the frosting I made. Then I had to sit make another batch while while the sugar turned your daughter into a hyperactive destruction machine. She didn't even sleep in the afternoon and I had just managed to get her to sleep when..."

"Sorry." Seokmin gushed sheepishly. "I thought I was helping-"

"No, no that's okay, she needs to bathe and eat anyways. Better you wake her up, she gets all cranky otherwise."

Seokmin dropped a sweet kiss on his child's cheek as she continued to search for something in his ear lobe with utmost seriousness.

"How was your day? How's Minseo?"

"Oh same old, just complaining about her kids and mom, the usual." He didn't need you to know the exact details of what happened. Not when it didn't matter to him anyways. "She said she had dinner prepared at home so we didn't really eat anything."

"Oh no, you must be so hungry? I have a few orders to pack for tomorrow, let me quickly finish that up, then we can do dinner yeah?"

Seokmin nodded as you walked away to the kitchen, sleep barely shaken away.

The good thing about Seokmin's apartment was the large pantry, which when you first came to this house was merely a storeroom but over time, it had become your working station. After you had graduated, given your sweet tooth, you had traveled around, meeting different chefs, taking small courses and mastered the art of dessert making. Not only did that trip help get away from and over your ex boyfriend but it had also solidified your skill set as a pâtissier. After coming back to Seoul, an old senior and friend had contacted you, offering you a job in her bakery cafe till you worked on your own business plan and all was going well till that alumni party.

Sure, when Seokmin introduced himself to you in your freshmen year you thought he was possibly the most gorgeous person you'd ever laid your eyes on. He didn't seem too interested in you and that was fine, given you were already in a relationship with your high school boyfriend. Meeting him again, so many years later, finding out he had gotten oh so much hotter and having suffered a dry spell for so long, you had managed to somehow get into his pants for what was the best night you had ever had. You had quite literally fucked him out of your mind, and were happily moving on with your life when the news of the pregnancy hit.

You did go to work in the initial months but as the third trimester approached, it was hard to balance your well being and the strain that came from working. Your boss was kind enough to let you keep your job and that's how for the last 2 odd years, you found yourself working from home, only preparing and delivering on custom orders the shop received, allowing you to keep both your passion alive and make decent money.

"I was going to give Aera a bath-"

"Okay!"

"-but the neighbour's kids want to take her downstairs to play."

Normally, you wouldn't let her go down when it was late and dark outside but she needed to get that sugar out of her system and you needed to be alone with Seokmin for a bit. There was something you wanted to talk to him for a while now.

The giggles of your daughter faded in the background as Seokmin walked into the kitchen, pulling out a tub of something from his bag.

"I'm going to make the best ravioli you've ever had for dinner."

You smiled watching him wash up and put on an apron, getting ready to bustle away in the kitchen. You loved watching Seokmin cook - there was something so elegant and attractive about how well he navigated around while cooking, smoothly chopping and stirring away. He never let you make dinner. Though he slogged in the kitchen restaurant from day break till the evening cooking away, Seokmin never let you cook when he was home. He'd say you didn't have to worry about it when he was there. Actually, as long as he was around, you never worried about anything.

You didn't think there would come a point where Seokmin would become your partner for life but here you are. Years ago, when your ex was tormenting you, you had contemplated just moving out of the city but it was Seokmin who held your hand and asked you to face him bravely. You did, you really tried, but it didn't matter when the other man was such a terrible pain in the ass - nothing changed. It was then that Seokmin’s mother suggested that the two of you get married, hoping that would settle things once and for all but you refused.

As idealistic as that seemed, it was never your intention to bind Seokmin with you in such a permanent relationship but he didn't seem to think so. If a marriage was what it would take to keep his child safe, he was willing to do it. It took a few more months, a few more threats from your ex and a reasonable suggestion from your sister for you to finally agree to it. Within a few days the two of you were married with a set of promises said out loud and a set of them silently agreed upon

One, this would be an open marriage - two of you were free to see and be with other people and two, 3 years later, you would reassess where this relationship stood and what it's future would be.

You had agreed on this arrangement for Seokmin more than for yourself. Once you gave birth, you knew you'd be busy with your child and work, but you didn't want Seokmin to feel trapped because of one night's decision. True enough, after Aera came along, you didn't even have the time to look at another man, forget thinking about one. Sometimes you wondered if Seokmin found someone but from the intel that had reached you, it didn't seem like he had. He'd always come home immediately after work, he didn't usually go out anywhere on the weekends, his friends always complained to you that they never saw him around - Seokmin spent every breathing minute he had free with his daughter.

You glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall beside Seokmin for the nth time this month, noting each day that your wedding anniversary was approaching. It would soon be time to reevaluate your marriage with him but if you didn't find anyone and if he didn't find anyone, you wondered what he thought about your idea. One that you had been nurturing for a while now.....

Seokmin could feel your eyes burning into his back and knew you wanted to say something. By the time he walked into the kitchen you were already done with your orders which meant the last 20 minutes he spent cooking, you were simply lost in thought about something. Something Seokmin had a feeling he knew.

Ever since a month ago, when the restraining order against your ex was finally approved and the threat on you had been lifted, Seokmin had a gnawing feeling about the future of this relationship. You were not interested in a marriage to begin with, now you didn't have a reason to continue in it either. That could only mean one thing - you were going to leave him. The time had come.

Seokmin held his breath as you approached him,

"Seokmin, I was thinking...."

Please don't say you wanna leave me. Please don't say it. Please don't say it.

"It's been almost 3 years since we've gotten married and had Aera. She's not all grown up yet, but she's grown up quite a bit and....."

Please. Please. Please.

"I was thinking maybe it's time we...."

Seokmin took a deep breath preparing himself. This was it.

"Get a cat or something?"

Seokmin turned to you surprised. "A what?"

"A cat, or a dog if you prefer that, any pet actually."

"So you're not leaving me?"

"Huh?"

"I mean" Seokmin mentally smacked himself, rambling to his defence. "You're.... leaving that decision to me? To get a pet? Why? I mean why a pet, I mean why so suddenly?"

You sighed, leaning against the counter. "Aera constantly needs me around because she gets bored. She's young, she needs company and I'm hoping a pet can give her that? I mean obviously the better option would be if we.... I mean if she....."

Seokmin looked at you confused. "If she?"

Well, fingers crossed, here we go.

"I don't know, could have a sibling? Kids need company to grow up and I think it would be nice if Aera could have a little brother or sister....."

Seokmin stared at you, his expression unreadable before his voice softened, leaving him uncertain. "Do you really want that? Another child?"

"I think I'm ready for another one?..... if you want one that is." You add quickly. "I don't want you to feel compelled or anything. We can still just get a pet-"

"No..." Seokmin shook his head, clearing his throat before continuing. "I don't mind. I don't mind having another child. It's just....I don't know how complicated the adoption process is-"

"Oh." You scratched the back of your neck. This conversation was a lot harder than you had anticipated. "I wasn't thinking about adoption actually..... I mean it's great and everything but I was thinking more of a child of my own..... our child."

Seokmin blinked rapidly. "O-ours?"

"I mean we already have one together, I think it'll be a lot less complicated if I were to have another one that.....you be the father?" 

.

.

.

That would not make anything less complicated.

"Your silence is scaring me Seokmin. There's no compulsion, it's only if you want. I might be the one giving birth but your preference matters too. If you don't want this then we'll just forget this conversation ever happened."

It was ridiculous you thought he might not want a future, a bigger family with you when he had been dreaming of this for the last 3 years.

"I love Aera more than anything in this world. If I could have another child that's part me, especially if it'll make Aera happy, of course I'd want that. It's just...."

"What?"

"How...." He refused to meet your questioning eyes. "How are you and supposed to.....you know?"

"Oh." Of course there would be a discussion about the process and of course you're flushed a violent shade of pink. "I uh looked into that, there's a few fertility clinics here that do a procedure called IUI, intrauterine insemination or something like that, basically it's an artificial process of.....sex?"

"Ah....." He nods slowly. "That sounds-"

You wanted to know what he's thinking, you wanted to know what he wanted but the doorbell rang, pulling you away from the conversation. Knowing the delivery person was here for today's orders you quickly excused yourself and turned your attention to your work, bringing out the orders, taking them down to load the van. By the time you're done and ready to listen to him again, Seokmin has already finished up in the kitchen and has his eyes glued to his phone.

He didn't acknowledge your presence, which is rather odd because Seokmin is always so reactive to you. Realising that he was perhaps not comfortable or in a disagreement with the discussion, you decided to end it and not being it up anymore. Instead, you resorted to cleaning up the mess in the living room, pointlessly might I add, for within minutes, your daughter came barging in, done with her playtime, ready to make a mess again. Before she could topple over the box of toys, Seokmin appeared out of nowhere, swooping her into this arms, protecting your just cleaned zone. He flashed you a smile, continuing to play a game of Aera-plane with her as you hugged your knees and watched them.

Seokmin was a great father and that was the reason you wanted to have another child with him. That and the fact that he was also a great person - one could scour the whole earth and not find a man even half as good as him. Though you had entered this marriage with the idea that it could end anytime, with each passing day, that turned into a strange fear - a fear of him leaving you, especially now that you and Aera were no longer in danger. When even your marriage could not keep your ex away from you, Seokmin decided to take things in a legal direction to finally get him out of the way. Now that all of that was successfully done, the number of things binding this marriage had reduced.

When you discussed the idea of having another baby with your sister, she asked if this was an attempt to add to the list of reasons keeping this marriage together. Oh hell no. If anything it was the exact opposite. Having another child with Seokmin would only lead to one thing - you falling in love with him all over again and him not feeling the same for you yet again. It would make ending this relationship, whenever the time came for it, that much harder. But you knew for Aera this decision made sense - it was only for her sake.

Seokmin and Aera had now switched to the game of Aera-train, the two of them crawling all around the space on their knees, making you laugh at their antics. You grabbed your little girl and pulled her into your lap, smothering her cute face with kisses as she wriggled in your grip. Exhausted, Seokmin lied down beside you, mouthing a thank you.

"How much more playtime is it going to take before you burn all that sugar missy?"

"Hide and seek!" Aera clapped, still not understanding how exhausted the two of you were. "You and daddy hide, I count."

"Aera, you need to shower-"

Not listening, she slipped out of your lap, plastering herself against at wall, closing her eyes.

"One, two-"

"Sweetheart-"

"Seven, ten, twelve-"

Seokmin looked up. "Who the hell is teaching her numbers?"

"Thirty, forty-"

Laughing you quickly pulled Seokmin to his feet, the two of your scrambling to find a place to hide and in the hurry, settling in the tiny gap between the closet and the bathroom, bodies pressed against each other. As the laughter faded, you realised just how close you were, faces inches apart, breath held and heart racing.

Hearts.

With your hands pressed against his pecs, you could feel his racing too.

"Should have hidden in different places huh" Seokmin whispered, earning a short nod from you.

"It's too late. We're stuck, I guess."

Seokmin couldn't tell what exactly you were talking about, somehow it's different. You gulped the phantom lump in your throat, trying to look away but there's only so much you could look at around you. When you looked at him again, he was lost in thought.

"What are you thinking?"

"I uh." Seokmin cleared his throat. "I was reading up about this Intra- thing."

Oh. So the conversation wasn't done. "Uh huh."

"It's expensive."

"Yeah it is...." You had already done all the research for it of course. "Which sucks because it doesn't have a very high chance of success either."

"Not to mention, it requires many tests and appointments."

"Yeah, it would interrupt with both our work schedules too."

"Exactly.....so I'm not sure if it's really the best option for us?"

You looked at him straight in the eye. What was going on in his head? Why was a completely wild thought entering your head?

You nodded slowly. "Maybe we should look into the alternatives. Try and do a little more research?"

"And find an option that's affordable, efficient, and not very time consuming."

"That would be ideal.....I wonder what that could be."

Both of you knew what it could be. Both of you knew exactly what it could be.

"The only way I can think of is," You tried not to let your voice shake. "The way everyone usually does this...."

Seokmin frowned, "There are other ways?"

How could a man this fine be this stupid?

"The way we already made a child Seokmin."

Just the memory of that night sends blood rushing down Seokmin’s body. That was not an event of loving baby making.

"You want to do t-that again?"

Your stomach literally wanted to hurl its contents. "Do you?"

"I mean," He could feel the sweat drip down the groove of his back. "If that's the best way to have another child. It does seem like the practical, logical, reasonable choice."

"Yeah..." You met his eyes, hoping to god he could tell you were lying. "That's the only reason why...."

The thick, unresolved tension makes you shiver, prompting you to shift in the space, and Seokmin's arms immediately grabbed you at the waist to keep you steady - he was terrified that the secret in his pants would expose him for what he truly was.....absolutely and fatally, gone for you.

If you had ever given him even the slightest indication that you wanted him, Seokmin knew for a fact that he would have given you a whole lot of babies by now - there was nothing more he wanted than a life and a family with you. But you only ever smiled at him sweetly, never letting on anything further and Seokmin was okay with that too. He was okay with whatever you wanted. Now you wanted him to put another baby in you and he had no idea how he was going to stay sane doing that. Or after that.

"Speaking of which...." You pulled away from him, looking concerned. "Where's the child we already made?"

It had to have been a while by now and Aera was usually much better than this at hide and seek, making the two of you panic and rush out of your hiding space, calling out to her. In less than a minute, Seokmin found her curled up in the couch fast asleep, snoring away.

You groaned. "She hasn't showered or eaten-"

"Shh, it's okay." Seokmin crouched beside her, attempting to carry her to her bed. "We can just-"

"Caught you!"

Much to Seokmin's disappointment, your daughter jumped out of the couch, kicking her feet, ecstatic that she had him fooled. You covered your mouth so Seokmin could not see you struggling to hold back your laughter as Aera ran around chanting, caught you, caught you.

"Well isn't she a smartass." You noted, trying to soothe his annoyance.

"Yeah, we need to stop letting her hang out with Yoon Jeonghan." He muttered as he picked up his running daughter, seating her on the side of his hip, squeezing her cheeks. "And I caught you so now playtime is over. It's shower time, you little pig."

Aera whined, trying to reach for you to save her and you stepped back. "No, no, you've done enough today. You've to sleep soon-"

"Not sleepy." She groaned, snuggling her head into Seokmin’s neck, as he walked away, shaking his head.

"You're not gonna let mommy and daddy sleep tonight are you?"

You froze in the middle of the hall hearing his words.

Tonight?

You were not really sure what came over you when you suggested having sex again to make another baby. Maybe it was the proximity of the space or the fact that he was already so on board with the idea or just because you've been wanting to jump this man for 3 years now. You don't really know. You didn't know how you were even going to sleep with him just one more time. Or how to handle things after that. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

Of course it was a terrible idea. And it was only further proven when you grabbed Aera's night clothes and walked into the bathroom to find both father and daughter settled in the bathtub, engaged in a waterfight, making you raise your eye brows in question.

"She put water all over me!" Seokmin justified as Aera covered her face in soap bubbles, hiding from you. "It's not my fault, she insisted I get in with her."

Yes but why did he have to take his shirt off for that? And why did your eyes have to follow those little rivets of water running down his bicep and chest? You tore your gaze away from him and quickly pulled your child out of the tub, and the moment you set her down, she giggled and bolted, making you sigh.

"I'm banning sugar in this house." Seokmin laughed.

"She usually gets sleepy after a meal." You threw him a towel too and looked away as he caught it. "Shouldn't disturb us too much tonight."

Seokmin stared at you as you left. Tonight?

You wanted to do this tonight? Hell no. He needed time. He needed to convince himself to not let this one time raises his hopes, to not let himself fall more miserably in love with you. How was he ever going to do that? Everything you did only made him that much more whipped for you. Even now, after he washed himself up and walked out, he saw you softly drying Aera's hair, singing her favourite song, and leaned against the door frame, smiling fondly. Just the thought of another child, part you part him, running across this space made his heart swell with joy. He really wanted that.

When you meet his eye and smiled, he returned it, ignoring his racing heart and walked off to heat the sauces for dinner - a non spicy one for Aera and another spicy one for the two of you. Your eyes followed him, noticing that he had donned a new pair of grey sweatpants which were hanging low on his hips, coupled with a white tank top that was doing a terrible job of hiding his pecs. God this man wanted to end you.

By the time you put Aera in her baby chair, he had already set everything on the table and true to his word it is the best damn ravioli in the world.  You told him that and that was all the conversation that took place - dinner was unusually silent. Maybe because the both of you had the same set of thoughts running through your minds, both apprehensive about what would go down in the coming few hours. Even Aera had noticed the silence, her head turning between the two of you, her expression confused all through dinner. Yawning, she watched her parents awkwardly move around each other in the kitchen, even more polite and formal than they usually were as they cleaned it up.

You left Seokmin to put Aera to sleep as you headed to the shower to wash up for the night. Staring at the mirror, you stripped out of your clothes, observing everything that had changed over the last three years - you hadn't really cared for the post pregnancy effects on your body but somehow today you were feeling conscious. Taking a deep breath you convinced yourself that it was fine - that this was a one time thing anyways, that this was just to procreate, nothing else. Still, you quickly shaved yourself, used your best smelling soap and wore a new night suit - a pink one, with tiny flowers all over the shirt and shorts.

By the time you returned, Seokmin had already put Aera to sleep and settled in front of the TV, ready to play the next episode of masterchef, the one show the two of you being professionals thoroughly enjoyed. You wondered if you has misread his statement and had unnecessarily readied yourself for tonight and contemplated changing into something different when Seokmin sensed your presence behind him and asked you to hurry up. Biting your lip out of embarrassment, you walked over and settled down on the other end of the couch where you usually sat, not noticing the way his eyes trailed down your body before gulping and looking away.

"You're wearing a new night suit." He observed, avoiding mentioning that he also noticed you smelt different than usual - sweeter, more addicting.

"You're wearing a new track pant too." You added so it didn't seem like you were the only one who was prepared for tonight.

"I.... didn't really notice. Just grabbed the first thing I could find and..." Lies. Pure lies. Seokmin deliberately wore the most loose sweatpants he could find hoping to god it would hide the raging boner he was housing between his legs. Even though he had already jerked off prior to showering to avoid being caught, he knew just the thought of what might happen tonight was enough to bring it back and sure enough, just your scent was enough to do that. He pulled a pillow onto his lap, starting the episode to divert the topic.

As the show continued, the two of you did your usual drill of discussing the recipes, how you'd do it differently and what he'd change to improve it. The thought hadn't stopped running in the back of your mind though, about whether tonight was indeed the night. About who was going to bring it up, how you were going to do....it.

"That guy, he's got a great future as a pâtissier." Seokmin pointed at the screen. "If he ever opens a shop, I bet his dessert will be some of the most in demand in the city." He turned to you smiling. "Unless you enter the business. Then nobody stands a chance."

You laughed a little sadder than you intended to. "Having my own business feels like a once upon a dream now. With Aera now, I'm not sure how I can handle a whole business by myself-"

"Of course you won't be by yourself. I'll be there, with you, for you." He tilted his head. "Always."

"You've always wanted to have a restaurant of your own too. What about your dream?"

"I'm already working in one of the best restaurants in the city. I'm living half of it already. I wish you could live yours too."

How did he always place you before him? Why was he always so good to you?

You turned to face him, leaning against the armrest. "What if we both had one dream? We could open a small business of our own which could feature both my desserts and your food."

"That would work." Seokmin nodded. "But it would require an extensive kitchen, we both need a ton of very different equipment, a lot more investment and time on our hands too. I mean if both of us are busy, with not fixed working hours, who'll take care of the kid?" He paused for a moment before reminding himself and you. "Kids."

Your heart felt like it was in your mouth.

"If they're of school going age, it shouldn't be so hard to handle should it?"

He mirrored your posture, more interested in the prospect now that it seemed possible and you continued.

"I wanted to have my own shop by the time I was 30, which means we have another 6 years for that. Aera will start going to school when she's 5, so there's another 2 years for that."

"Which means if we want our second child to also be of school going age by that time then we should have one by....." Seokmin did the math on his fingers. "Early next year."

You nodded, doing math of your own. "Given it will take 9 months to get one out, it means I have to get pregnant by latest...."

"March." Seokmin concluded, staring at his hands. "Which is this month."

Fuck.

"And given the best time to get pregnant is when I'm most fertile and that's..." You glanced at the date on your phone screen and looked up at him just as he lifted his head. "Now."

The two of you stared at each other in the silence as the end credits of the episode rolled on the screen, the next one waiting to be played.

"Is..." Seokmin took a deep breath. "Is that the future you really want? Running a business together, having 2 kids.... us?"

You really really really wanted that.

You nodded slowly. "If you want it too."

Seokmin took a whole minute to stare at the floor before turning off the TV, submerging the two of you in the dimness of the night lights.

"I do." He tossed the remote aside, slowly meeting your eye. "So, we do this.... right now?"

You glanced around the house. "Well, we are done for the day. All we have left to do is head to bed....."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was really happening?

"Wait," Seokmin panicked. "I don't have any condoms, I'll need to buy-."

"Lee Seokmin."

Oh no. "Yeah?" Had he messed up already? Did you not want to any more?

"We're trying to have a baby."

"I know....." and when the realisation hit, Seokmin felt all the blood leave his brain and shoot straight to his dick.

"So I..... so we're....I'm gonna do this raw?"

You looked at him, just a little amused. "That's kinda how getting pregnant works."

"What if you don't get pregnant?"

"Considering I got pregnant even when we did it with condoms, I don't know if that's going to be such a huge problem."

"Things don't always work out the same right? What if you don't get pregnant?"

"Then....we're going to have to do this till I get pregnant."

"This as in I...." Seokmin held his breath. "We have sex raw and...."

Your stomach flipped inside you. "And you come inside me, yes"

"I'm gonna fucking die." He muttered under his breath.

"Huh?"

He looked at your confused face, having not heard him. If you were going to let him re-live this, you deserved it too.

"Well, we have to do this right."

"What right?"

Seokmin ran his hand through his hair knowing he was digging his own grave with this.

"Come here." He tossed the pillow aside and held his hand out, pulling you closer as you took it, guiding you to straddle his lap. Both of you let out a soft groan as you felt his hard length under you and he could feel how soaked you were, through both your shorts and his pants.

"I know we're doing this to get you pregnant but when was the last time you...." slept with someone.

"With you." You confessed. "3 years ago."

Seokmin nodded slowly. "Then it's only right I make sure you feel good."

"What about you?" You stared at his collar bone instead, absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his tank top, wondering what the answer would be. Dreading what it would be.

"With you."

You looked up a little surprised. "You didn't see anyone else? In 3 years?"

"You didn't either."

"I didn't have the time."

"And I didn't have the need." He looked at you so earnestly, you wanted to bury this man in you and never let him go. "I'm happy with my life. I'm happy with Aera, I'm...." He smiled softly. "I'm happy with you. I'm not seeking anything else."

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb across the bone. How did you get so lucky?

"Seokmin." He hummed as you let your hands wrap around his neck. "Hurry up and put a baby inside me."

Groaning, he hooked his hands under your thighs, lifting you into his arms with surprising ease. Moving to the room with soft footfall and gently dropping you onto the bed, he watched as looked at him, pupils blown, reminding him of that night all those years ago. Fuck he really wanted to be inside you.

"Move back." He tapped your leg, clambering on the bed slowly as you obeyed, scooting behind, letting him slide his fingers between the elastic of your shorts. "Up."

As you raised your hips, he pulled down both your shorts and your panties in one go, leaving you feeling both strangely exposed and admired.

"You didn't have to." He muttered and you know he's talking about you shaving as he ran his hands up and down your thighs softly, before meeting your eye. "You're unbelievably beautiful, no matter what." A shiver ran down your spine as he leaned to drop a small kiss on your belly.

"Seokmin please..." You whined, pulling him up, unable to take the wait anymore. "Please just...."

"You don't have to beg sweetheart." He dropped another kiss on your forehead, then your jaw. "Let me make you feel good first, then I'll fill you up." His finger slipped between your soaked folds. "....and then again, just to be sure."

You let out the most unholy moan as his words shot straight to your core and his fingers easily found your clit, drawing soft circles, driving you insane in all ways possible. Seokmin looked at you with the softest eyes, laced with a hint of undeniable desire, like he was craving you. "Is it okay if I go down on you?"

Okay? It took all the sanity left in you to nod slowly, like you weren't eagerly throbbing just at the thought of it.

As you propped yourself on your elbows, he slowly slid down between your legs, pulling them over this shoulders, holding back a groan at the sight of the wet mess you'd made - you were dripping and he revelled in it. Eyes still locked with yours, his tongue ran up your folds, making you grip the sheets below, mouth falling open in a not so silent sigh. Fuck you hadn't been touched properly in so long and the fact that it was Seokmin again of all people was making it so much better. You'd been wanting him for way too long now.

"You need to keep it down baby." It took everything in you to turn the moan that left you into a whimper. How on earth were you supposed to that when he was saying such things??? "Our daughter is asleep next door."

You nod hurriedly, lacing your hand through his thick hair, as he went down on your again, smiling against your skin. He knew you needed him, badly, and God he wanted you so much too, he wanted you in entirely.

His nose brushed against your clit, making you almost writhe at the overstimulation, stopped only by the tight grip of his hands around your thighs. Unable to grab much of the sheets with your free hand, you slid it under your shirt, grabbing a boob, squeezing it pathetically as Seokmin watched you, nearly cumming in his pants. Maybe one day he would admit this out loud, but the first year after Aera was born, watching you feed her with your breasts spilling out of your bra always drove him certifiably insane. As pathetic as it sounded, he was jealous of his months old daughter but now..... Seokmin slid his hand up your body, feeling how perfectly your free breast filled his hand, the moan he let go against your clit vibrating through your body, pulling out the sexiest gasp he'd ever heard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you were going to be the end of him.

"More." You moaned, pushing your hips up, desperate to be filled. "Seokmin, just a little more-"

And that's when letting go his ministrations on your boob, he brought his hand back down to your entrance, pushing a finger in. And then another. And God, though you were throbbing and practically dying to be filled, the intrusion sent the pain of the stretch shooting up you, making you wince and grab all you had your hands on a lot tighter. Sensing your discomfort, Seokmin stopped immediately, raising himself up, his face hovering over yours, concerned.

"Did I hurt you?" He hadn't touched you in so long, honestly he had no idea how to touch you either - what you liked, what you wanted, he didn't have a clue. He'll learn, he swears if you let him, he'd memorise every small detail, every single sign.

"Just...." You panted, feeling the pain ebb into pleasure. "No, no, you didn't, please don't stop."

Obeying, Seokmin instantly began pumping his fingers, still watching you closely. Under his gaze you felt so exposed, like if he looked a little deeper into your eyes he would see the unbelievable amount of love you had for him. Would that be such a bad thing though?.....

Fisting the material of his tank top, you pulled him down, pressing your forehead against his, letting your moans spill right into his ears. Chest swelling with pride, Seokmin picked up the pace, alternating between scissoring you open and pushing his fingers knuckle deep. Lord why was he so good at this?

Seokmin watched as your breaths got shallow and quick, knowing you were nearly there and brushed his thumb over your clit with just enough pressure to push you over the edge. Back arching off the bed, you clenched around him, feeling wave after wave of pleasure erupt across your being as though every nerve in your body was set on fire. Seokmin stopped but did not pull out, eyes fixed on the way you were a panting mess under him, still struggling to ground yourself.

"That...." You focused your vision on him, a slight smile dancing your lips. "That was fucking good."

"Hmm language." Seokmin laughed, finally and unfortunately pulling his fingers out leaving you empty and wanting. You turned to him as he buried his elbow into the mattress beside your face, propping his head on his hand, glancing down at you. You looked at him and he looked at you, blinking slowly, letting so many unsaid things pass in the silence. Bringing your hand up, you traced the outline of his features with a strange sadness that when all this was over there was going to be distance between the two of you again.

Seokmin needed you to stop that. He needed you stop looking at him, to stop touching him like that, there was only so much he could control himself. He knew he wouldn't get this chance over and over again and he wanted to make it count as much as possible. For you and for him.

"Didn't actually get to eat you out." He muttered in your ear, running his fingers between folds, gathering your release, spreading it around your throbbing hole. "Wanna make you come on my tongue."

To his momentary disappointment, you shook your head. "Some other time." What? "Right now I need you to get inside me."

"Just one-"

He stuttered to a stop when you ran your hand down his torso, palming his erection, it's thickness literally making you salivate. God you wanted him in your mouth so bad but you needed him inside you a lot more desperately. You had slept with him him before, you knew he felt like heaven and you had waited long enough.

"Seokmin please." You squeezed his length, earning a low growl from him. "I want that baby. I really want it." When he moved, hovering over you once again, palms planted beside you, you didn't even realise the words that left you. "I really want you."

Seokmins eyes widened, processing your words, but that was before you clawed the material of his tank top on his back, making him sit up and strip out if it in a flash. He didn't have it in him to get out of the bed and step put of his track pants, opting to pull his length out of them instead, stroking it, spreading his precum all over it. He watched your eyes fixed on his movements, mouth slight open, before you blinked up at him, sighing like you couldn't wait. Mirroring your desperation, Seokmin slowly pushed himself into you, slipping in with a satisfying ease, bottoming out with a groan. Your nails raked his bare back, struggling to ground yourself as he filled that emptiness in you oh so well.

"Move." You moaned, adding a please at the end as though he wouldn't happily bury himself in you again and again. Though he needed a minute. He needed to memorise the feeling of you so warm and tight around him. Fuck you were a dream.

When you whimpered his name again he finally started moving, pulling back a little and pushing himself all the way in again and again. You slid your hands up, hooking them onto his shoulders, feeling every bit of him inside you, walls throbbing with every drag against it. It took everything in Seokmin to not empty himself entirely in you when you clenched around him, slowly approaching your high.

"A little longer." He pleaded. He didn't want this to end yet. "Hang in there a little longer for me beautiful. Come with me."

Then maybe he should have shut his mouth. His words had your heart racing as you felt that familiar build up in you, the one that has your toes curling. Seokmin knew you were going to come soon with the way your kept fluttering around him, squeezing and releasing him in a way that was testing his sanity.

"Shit." He muttered, burying his face in the crook of your neck and pulling your leg, guiding it towards his waist, making you wrap both of them around him, his length reaching spots you didn't even know were possible. It only took a few more strokes of increasing speed before you felt that knot tightening in you rapidly unravel, pushing wave after wave of please coursing through your body, literally blinding you for a minute there.

By the time you regained your composure Seokmin was still in the same position, buried deep inside you, his breath softly caressing the skin of your neck, face hidden from you. You slowly ran your hands up and down his back, letting him know you were okay. In fact you were better than okay, something told you if he fucked you a little longer you would fall apart around him all over again.

"Go on." You tightened your legs around his waist, feeling how he was still so painfully hard inside you. "Do it Seokmin, come inside me."

To your surprise, you felt him sigh, as he attempted to pull out but remained unsuccessful given the way you had locked him against you.

"What's wrong?" You could feel your heart thump in your chest at his uncertainty.

"Can I be honest with you?"

Oh no. "Of course."

Please don't end this.

"I....."

Please don't say you don't want this.

"I don't want you to get pregnant again."

The way you immediately let him go makes him quickly pull up, his eyes meeting yours which look devastated. Was all he wanted just sex? 

"Yet!" He added hurriedly, panicking at your misinterpretation. "I don't want you to get pregnant again yet. Not that I don't want to have another child with you, God no, there's nothing I want more, just....." He gulped looking away. "Not yet."

His words don't offer you much comfort.

"Why not?" You whispered, terrified of where this conversation was going. "I thought we both thought the timing was right...."

"It is. Its absolutely right. It makes absolute sense. It's just..." Did us making this future together not make sense? "I don't know what this is going to make you think of me but I can't keep pretending anymore. It's going to sound incredibly selfish of me but...."

Please please please don't say you don't want me anymore.

"I want you." You looked at him surprised. "I want you entirely. I don't want you to just be the mother of my children, I want you to be my woman. Mine." He sighed, refusing to meet your eye, terrified to learn what you think of him. "If you get pregnant now, it'll be another few months of dealing with the pregnancy, then the baby and I love the thought of that, god I really do, but a part of me just wants you to myself for a while. To have you as my wife, as a partner, to make love to you again and again and-"

"Wait." You stopped him, unable to take the weight of his words. Did this mean he.... "Look at me." You held his face in both your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. God, if only you both had just a little more courage, this could've happened years ago. But clearly, it was still not too late.

"Seokmin."

"Hmm."

.

.

.

.

"I love you."

Your husband's eyes widened with a whole range of emotions. "Y-you do?"

"Fuck Seokmin, I love you so much. I've been in love with you for so long. How could I not? There's not a thing about you that doesn't make my soul crave for you. I just thought I was a burden, a responsibility you had no choice but to fulfill-"

"No choice?" Seokmin looked at you incredulously. "You are who I would pick over and over and over again, till my last breath, God I love you so much it drives me insane-"

Before he can say anything more you pulled him down into what you realised was your first ever kiss, and he immediately kissed you back, like he wanted this more than he needed to breathe. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer like you couldn't bear to part from him as his hands found your waist, pressing you against him. You didn't want to stop, neither did he, until he pulled away, burying his face in your neck, holding you in a tight hug, one that felt so complete and made you realise how perfectly they two of you fit against each other. And that this entire time Seokmin was still inside you, waiting to finish. As you involuntary clenched around him, Seokmin groaned in your ear.

"Lie on your back."

He pulled back at your words, raising an eyebrow. You gently pushed him off you, his back hitting the mattress.

"Off." You patted his pants, and he quickly lifted hips and kicked it off just before you swung your legs around his waist, straddling him. Seokmin let out a low whistle, slightly smiling at the sight of you above him. You ran your hands down his pecs to his abs as he tucked an arm under his head, watching you.

"Hey."

You hummed in response, tilting your head at him.

"I love you." He looked at you earnestly. "I really really do."

"I love you too." You confessed again, leaning down to drop him a quick kiss, your hand wrapping around his length. "But right now, let me make you come big boy."

Seokmin somehow felt himself get more hard, if that was even possible, as you pumped his length in your hand a few times before raising yourself and aligning it against your entrance, slowly sinking down on it. As your mouth dropped open in a silent sigh feeling him fill both your body and your heart, Seokmin moaned, his free hand running up your thigh. Rocking your hips, slowly readjusting to his thickness, you threw your head back, baring your neck in a way that made Seokmin's mouth water. As he tried to bring his hand up to strip you of your shirt, you beat him to it, slowly unbuttoning it and sliding it off your shoulders, allowing Seokmin to sit up and wrap his mouth around your breast. You ran your hand up the nape of his neck, relishing the way his tongue swirled around your nipple, wondering how in the world the two of you managed to keep your hands off each other all these years. You didn't think you could do more than a while without this man's touch from now.

Pulling him from you, you pushed him back once more, holding onto his shoulders for support as you began moving your hips up and down his length. Seokmin cursed under his breath as he gripped the flesh of your ass, guiding your movements. Honestly, he didn't even need you to ride him to finish, just the look on your face, the perfect combination of love and lust, flushed red, slightly shining with sweat, fuck that was enough for him. He held on for as long as he could, hating the idea of not being in you anymore, but when you bit your lower lip, eyes hooded, he couldn't stop himself anymore.

"Fuck, I'm cumming."

To his surprise you immediately pulled yourself off him, stroking his dick in your hand, as he finally lost it, his cum splaying all over his abs and your stomach. He looked at you eyebrows raised as you, collected his cum with a finger and slipped it your mouth.

"Do not." Seokmin groaned at the sight. "Don't make me go again, I might just break you."

You laughed, dropping into the space beside him as he put his arm around you, pulling you closer.

"Why though? Wasn't all this for baby number two?"

"Yeah well, I don't think any of what we did was part of traditional baby making."

Seokmin laughed. "You're not wrong there but what about the plan then..."

"I think we can give ourselves some time before we execute our perfect life plan." You cupped his cheek. "Besides, I think everything is perfect already with you by my side."

You had no idea how long the two of made out after that, simply entangled with each other. Maybe it was until you both realised how desperately you needed to shower (though you continued to kiss and giggle under the water.) You only stopped when you stepped out and heard a soft whimpering in the baby monitor, prompting you to quickly get dressed and rush to Aera's room, Seokmin following behind.

He stood, leaning against the door as he watched you lift her into your arms and holding her against your chest.

"Why won't your daughter sleep Mr. Lee?"

"Again, I think she's taken after you Ms.L/n."

"It's Mrs. Lee." You corrected, making him smile.

As he watched you put your child to sleep, be didn't think he could love you any more. Little did he know, in a little over 9 months, mini Seokmin would make his way into this world, and Seokmin loved you more than ever.

[seokminfilm]

call me by your name | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, boyfriend!seokmin, crying!seokmin, some pouting, minor misunderstanding, mentions of feeling inadequate, mentions of jealousy, lots of kissing, fluff (and angst if you squint a bit), petnames ("sweetheart", "sweetpea")

now playing: futile devices, sufjan stevens

"Seokmin, can you come here for a minute?"

It had happened again.

Seokmin's deep brown eyes were pulled away from his phone as he shuffled his way into the kitchen, fluffy socks dragging against the ground as he approached you with wide, worried eyes. He wore a brown button-up, horn-rimmed glasses greeting you as he appeared behind you.

You hadn't called him his usual nicknames—Min, Minnie, and Seok—all day today, and you continued to refer to him as just Seokmin. You never did that unless you were angry, sad, or feeling another strong emotion, and you hadn't said anything to him about it yet.

He was waiting for you to say something to let him know what was wrong, but you said nothing. In fact, you were smiling and acting like your usual self, which meant you weren't sad or angry about anything.

Seokmin tried not to overthink, of course, but he couldn't help it: what if he had said something earlier that hurt you? What if he screwed something up without knowing? What if he had did something that made you feel unloved? Is that why you stopped calling him by his nicknames?

"Yes?" Seokmin's voice was pitched up a bit as he came and rested his head on your shoulder, to which you leaned your head on his.

He said nothing, but his heart broke a little more, confusion etching his features as his lips pursed together in a little pout (that you couldn't see).

"Which one would you like?" You offered a paper menu to him, phone open to Doordash as you were choosing your order from a Korean takeout place. He picked something absentmindedly, brain still flying a mile a minute trying to figure out why you were calling him by his whole name.

"Okay, Seokmin, thank you." You pecked his cheek quickly, closing the menu as you started to input your orders in. His eyes were watering now, and his nose was starting to run as he fell quiet, obviously not wanting to be loud or annoying to you.

Seokmin shuffled his way back to the couch, tears flowing freely now. He didn't know why he felt so strongly about the fact you weren't calling him Minnie or Seok, but it really did make him worry.

He felt inadequate at this moment, feeling as if he didn't offer you enough love to be called by his nicknames. Seokmin felt jealous, jealous that there could be other people out there—other males out there—making you feel better than he could.

After you finished placing the order, you went into the living room, stopping short at the sight of your boyfriend crying to himself.

You were confused beyond belief—why was your boyfriend crying? He didn't seem sad or bothered by anything, so why did he start sobbing out of the blue? Did you do something to him? Did you say something to him that hurt his feelings? Did you ignore him for too long?

"Oh my god, Seokmin? What's—what's wrong?" You asked, rushing to his side as you collapsed on the couch beside him. He fell silent, still sobbing as he pawed at his eyes like an agitated child.

You were confused as to why he was crying, hand on his thigh as you shushed him, pushing his hair away from his tear-streaked cheeks. He continued to cry into his hands until you finally got him to quiet down, and you then took your hands in his, still wiping at his wettened cheeks.

"Seokmin?" You asked again, and he removed his hands away from his eyes, gaze sharp and pressing as he muttered "It's that."

"What?" You pressed, confused, and Seokmin sighed, lips quivering as he continued. "You keep calling me Seokmin." He said his name with such venom you almost jumped at the sheer emotion you felt from his words, and you tried your hardest to understand, eyes falling to his hands that were laying limply in yours. He wasn't even holding them.

"Why do you keep calling me Seokmin? You always call me Minnie, Seok, Kyeom, or some other nickname you come up with for me, but today you've not said one. You've only called me Seokmin. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something that—that hurt you? I don't even know what I did—why aren't you calling me by my names? What did I even do?" Seokmin started to ramble, voice growing higher and his speed picking up as you watched him in surprise, taking his hands in yours once again.

"Hey, hey, Seok." You released a breath you didn't know you were holding, and your boyfriend looked back up at you from his shoes, tears falling again as his eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"I'm not mad at you, and you didn't say or do anything wrong," You reassured him, scooting closer as you turned his face to yours softly as he looked at you with wide, lost brown eyes.

"I just got caught up in my day. I was so busy with finishing work and cleaning the house and ordering us dinner that I just—I just forgot about you. I forgot the most important thing." You sighed, hands trailing down Seokmin's face as your fingertips tickled his jaw.

"If anything, I thought you were mad at me. You were crying, and you never cry without telling me why." You say softly, and Seokmin shakes his head softly, barely moving as you pressed a kiss to his still-quivering lips.

"I love you, you know that? Whether I call you Seokmin, Minnie, Kyeom, or baby, know that I'll love you forever and always tell you if something's wrong. You never have to wonder about me, okay? Always ask me." You pleaded, and Seokmin nodded again, sighing as you took him in for another kiss.

"I'm sorry again, Minnie." You apologize, and Seokmin wipes the tears from his face, nodding as his cheeks stain a red color. "I forgive you. I'm sorry that I overreacted."

"You didn't overreact. I would react the same way if you stopped calling me sweetpea or sweetheart." You smiled, and Seokmin's hand slipped around your waist as he smiled, kissing your lips softly as his chapstick tickled your kiss-swollen ones.

"I won't ever stop." Seokmin promises, smiling again as you lean in and kiss him again, and again, and again—as if apologizing for every nickname you have that you hadn't called him in ages.

taglist: @oojiehae @kyeomssant @realmofclouds (please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!)

reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated! thank you for reading <3

[bitchlessdino]

Sexy DK request time: He's tied to the bed and you do a strip show for him, he can't touch you, can only see your sexy af self, you can take this anywhere you like- Sam @dkakapizzaboy

Pairing: husband of mistress seokmin x fem married!reader Genre: angst, smut, slight fluff Word count:7.7k tags: insecure seokmin, mutual infidelity, unprotective sex, sub!seokmin, dom!reader, strip teases, male bondage, mention of fem oral, blow jobs, "ma'am" svt member!husband, let me know if I’m missing any! Summary: With the mutual understanding being cheated on, Seokmin finds solace in you, the beautiful stranger with ties to man that ruined his marriaged, Fortunately, light peeks out of the most inconvenient of circumstance. author note: still on hiatus but finally got this ok. sorry for teh wait sam my arch nemesis, thank you my darling wife @wongyuseokie for beta reading 💗

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic @seokgyuu

Unknown number: hi. you may not know me but my wife knows your husband and I think they’re having an affair.

You've stared at the message for hours on end and just about lost your mind with every letter of every word. You could practically recite it without a beat, the sound of glass shattering in the distance every time you’re met at the end.

You didn’t believe it at first—part of the reason being you don’t want to—but it would logically explain his recent changes. The late nights. The woman’s perfume. The infrequent time at home.

You feel numb.

Buried in a weighted blanket of deceit and betrayal, you wallow in the depths of your sheets until the words seep into the deepest dark abyss of your chest, squeezing your heart until it feels like it pops. A few more notifications followed the initial, going off at a nervous pace. The sender's agitation is abundantly clear.

You think to ignore it. You think to forget whatever you read and go about your married life as normal, but it gnaws at you. A violating parasite crawls around the wrinkles of your brain, biting, chewing, and consuming your perturbed consciousness. It leaks out of you in tears, sorrow, and a pervasive bodily ache.

Eventually, your hand finds your phone thrown to the ground and claims it in your vice grip before reading the incoming messages.

Unknown number: I read her messages

Unknown number: it’s been months it looks like

Unknown number: me and her have been married for less than a year

Unknown number: I won’t be too affected by this

Unknown number: I think

Unknown number: but are you ok?

No. No, you weren’t.

Unknown number: if it’s ok, I’d like you to meet with me. 

Unknown number: see the proof in person.

You know you'd be stupid to meet with a stranger you connected with through the phone. He could be a liar, murderer, stalker—you have no idea. However, if he's telling the honest truth, he'd be the only person right now who would understand your excruciating pain more than anyone else. He'd serve as proof that the life-sucking sensation coursing through your body is a sad reality, and facing that terrifies you.

However, reality manifests as a beautiful man. A beautiful man with a heart-shattering expression that makes you want to pick him up in the palms of your hands to tend to his invisible wounds.

You're perplexed. You weren’t sure if there was love that existed for you, but for him, love should’ve been guaranteed. He looks as if he deserves every star dedicated to him for every second he breathes. Every tear he shed. Every word he spoke. In another world, he’s someone’s muse, not someone’s victim of infidelity. Surely. Surely this was all some misunderstanding.

“Did you want that decaf?”

Your eyes flutter in his direction, registering the spoken words on his tongue. Sputter on your lips, you work the softness of your jaw in a gentle nod and swallow the words hitch down your throat. He splays a warm, but small smile, and gets up to head in the direction of the counter. His long, broad stature leans against the edge. His chest bellowing out of his diaphragm and out his lips, he softly mutters the drink orders to the cafe attendant.

Your eyes bat gently, observing him in slow motion, a coiling sensation in your gut. You exhale out of your nose in retreat, averting your gaze to your lap, jolting yourself out of the sudden fixation. You know you shouldn’t have been doing that. You have better self-control than that. Now was not the time for that.

His footsteps retreat toward you, and he settles your drink by your side of the table. Your eyes flit up at him, gaze descending as he modestly takes a seat across from you. His wide-toothed grin is polite but noticeably strained. "Thank you for meeting with me." His hands fiddle in his lap, visibly as disoriented as you are.

“I’m glad you texted me,” You respond cordially, “Those pictures were a hard pill to swallow…but I’m glad I saw them.”

He dryly chuckles, a solemn look of anguish etched on his face. "Yeah, I felt the same way."

Accepting the drink, you bring it against your lips. Despite being decaf, it proves as bitter as regular—an unexpected comfort, considering the usual presence of excess cream and sugar have felt overwhelming lately. The bitterness numbs your tongue, and you sense it traveling in a lump down your throat as you swallow.

"Sorry." His apology shakes you into clarity, his eyes quivering as they settle on you. "I'd seen photos of you—finding your husband, of course, because I didn't—um, okay. It's just strange to see you in front of me. Makes everything more..."

“Real,” You say, completing his sentence. “Yeah.”

His adam’s apple shifts in a nervous gulp. “How long were you together?”

“Five years. If you counted the last four,” you answer with a lingering chuckle. “I had an idea that’s what he was doing, but ideas are harmless until you’re true.”

“That’s—wow—impressive.”

You wave your hand dismissively. “Don’t. Considering the circumstances, it’s nothing to be proud about. If I had known earlier I would’ve shoved those papers in his face a long time ago.”

“But you’re so…strong. How do you get like that? After five years?”

You shrug, shrinking under his charged gaze, glistening in a sheen of genuine admiration. “Practice. If you stayed a little longer, you’d learn it too.”

“I don’t think I could’ve survived that.” 

“Well, you contacted the spouse of the man sleeping with your wife. That’s pretty fucking strong.”

He’s bashful again, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoids your eyes. All he can do is nod in response, not used to attention so warm and encouraging. So unlike Ami.

He discovers that you are far less deserving of betrayal than he had imagined. Your eloquent and poised conversations impress him, and the admirable lightness in your solemn tone adds to your appeal. From the moment he became aware of your existence, he felt compelled to meet you. While he initially rationalized it as a civic duty, there's an underlying motive that continues to fester in selfish desire, even when the topic of divorce is raised.

“Can we do this again?” he suggests timidly, hopeful you’ll agree. "Until the papers are final, at least. It’s kind of freeing talking about this with someone in the same shoes.”

Your lips softly curl up at the ends. “I’d like that.”

There's a substantial list of tasks to tackle before everything is finalized. You imagine how grueling it’d be to navigate through this by yourself and appreciate you weren’t alone on this. Recognizing that he's undergoing the same steps in grieving his failed union, it feels almost instinctive to join forces. Partners in divorce, each navigating the end of each of their own unhappy marriages. 

“Sorry, I just had to get something.”

You had come remarkably close, and the opportunity to accompany him home practically fell into your lap. Stepping into his space for the first time, you were immediately captivated by the photos adorning the walls, each one capturing her in a stunning, large white gown. In the enlarged picture on the wall, she radiates happiness, her joy undoubtedly amplified by standing next to Seokmin, who stands tall and sharp, his pride and happiness evident. As your eyes take in the scene, you find yourself amazed by the sheer elegance and warmth emanating from the photograph. A couple epitomizing love. So why—

“Found it,” he says, his fingers clutching the file between them. His gaze lands on your location, and as he registers the reason for your silence, he adds with a chuckle, “Oh, yeah. Ha-ha. That was really expensive.”

He approaches you with deliberate steps, both of you studying the wedding portrait together. "A thousand pictures, three hours editing, five hours of sifting through them, and a couple of grand later, this turned out to be the best one," he remarks. There's a hint of wry humor in his voice as he adds, "She jokes that it was the best thing to come out of this marriage. Now, I'm starting to wonder if it was a joke at all."

“Well, it’s so fucking amazing work. You look incredible.”

He acknowledges your sincerity. Naturally. It's a meticulously composed photo with thousand-dollar lighting, and makeup seamlessly blended into both of their skin. It was crafted to be admired, despite the evident imperfections concealed beneath the surface. Nonetheless, Seokmin's cheeks color at your commentary, a warmth palpable to the touch. "Thank you. Um, shall we?"

As you invest more time with him, the lingering question persists. Seokmin embodies perfection in every conceivable aspect, surpassing the qualities your husband ever possessed. The puzzle remains: Why? Why would his wife betray someone so genuinely kind and undeserving of such disloyalty? The enigma of her actions deepens with each passing moment spent in Seokmin's company.

Had you been in her shoes, you would grant him whatever he desires. The lengths you'd take to show your deep appreciation for him would extend endlessly, reaching far and lasting indefinitely. With complete faith, there wasn’t one damn rotten bone in his body, and he’s proven time and time he’s a sweetheart in and out. And although you were the one you were lucky enough to take his wife’s place, the least you could do is show him the courtesy of a friend. A friend who is cultivating feelings that start to transcend the simplicity of amicability.

“You know I can’t remember the last time I’ve had a home-cooked meal like this.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t feed my award-winning dish to just anyone.”

“It’s delicious. Like every bite filled with a mother’s hug. The best thing I ever put in my mouth.”

The way he says that tightens you in knots as you scrape off the remaining bit of your meal into the trash, letting the hot water from your faucet run down your plate. “A-an honor.”

You hear the scratch of his chair dragging on the floor as his padded feet approach you. “Let me help you with that.”

“You don’t need to—“

“You made dinner, let me in your humble abode, the least I can do as a guest.”

As your eyes follow the sequence of events, his long limbs gracefully extend over, prompting you to delicately set aside the dish with a self-assured smile. "You've done plenty. Let the host handle things."

He chuckles in disbelief. “Come on.”

“Stop it.” You giggle, splashing water at him.

He scoffs, splashing back. “You stop. Come on.”

“Seokmin!”

In a playful exchange, you engage in a subtle power struggle while fighting over the task. As he attempts to take control, you defy his dominance, completing the task before he can assert authority. Tension mounts as you press him against the counter, feeling the taut surface of his abdomen beneath your palm. A breathless moment ensues, and you slowly withdraw, leaving the air thick with anticipation.

You don’t notice the expression on Seokmin’s face when you unintentionally feel him up. The patter in his chest when it stroked down as you let go. The twitch in his pants when he notices your eyes are still glued to his body. He wishes he’d stop you from resisting, let you have him where you wanted. Move your body against him. 

But you're married, just like him. Albeit unhappily, but he must've confused trauma bonding for affection, lust, and longing. He wasn't actually falling for you; he's just lonely. Needy. Horny.

Seokmin just needs a good wank. A proper one with mood music and the lotion that smells like lavender or roses. All the romantic shit because that’s the type of guy he was. A romantic.

The challenge is doing it without your face popping in his head. 

For the longest time, he’d only thought of his wife. Although met through an arrangement via each other's parents, he thought he could love her, live with kids of their own, and live a happy life. For a moment he thought it was possible.

And then it came sex. Again and again, it would fail. And the smaller, the smaller he’d become. Like a shitty moldy piece of gum on the back of her shoe. Fuck it if she made him feel smaller than he should’ve. He knows he doesn't deserve it, and maybe it’s why your presence is so comforting. 

A breath of fresh air. A change of pace.

The attempt at forgetting your face with his hand around his cock becomes a failed one, spreading his failure all over his abdomen as he slumps in his chair. his nipples stand erect in the cool draft.

He feels the need to see you again, a necessary step in clearing his conscience.

“Seokmin!”

“Hey! Ready for apartment shopping?” 

“You bet. I just have one more thing to get in my bedroom. My wallet, it’s somewhere in there. Would you mind helping?”

“Oh yeah, sure. Uh…”

Entering the house, he allows the door to gently close, his footsteps echoing softly behind you. Observing the calm chaos of the room, he notices you tending to one side of your bedroom, and he contemplates, “In a drawer maybe?”

“Maybe? Just anywhere but—Wait, not there!”

He heeds your warning a second too late, pulling open a drawer revealing an array of toys too numerous to count—silicone, glass, plastic, and leather alike. The drawer houses an endless collection of items, all meticulously encased as if stored for display. One in particular catches his eye—a beautiful set of restraints that appear velvety soft to the touch. "Holy—"

Swiftly, you close the drawer, shielding its contents from prying eyes, and gently push him aside. “Hey! Don’t judge. He’s always been one buy these things, not like anything’s wrong with them. They were fun, at first at least.”

“I’m not judging, but backtrack. Ropes?”

Hesitancy singes the tip of your tongue. “He said silk ties slip off too easy to escape out of.” Your hand rests on your other wrist, reliving the memory somewhat fondly until it sinks down in your gut. “Rope leaves burns to remember how they felt. Like I said, they were fun. Until it became only what he wanted. Because it has always been what he wanted, and when I wouldn’t give it to him anymore, well…we all know how he handled that.”

“...Yeah I do.”

For the first time, a glimpse of sadness graces your expression in Seokmin’s presence, as if your relationship bears an unspoken sorrow. The furrow of your brows accentuates the subtle sighs and mild frown that follow. He yearns to soothe those features, wishing to impart a gentle reassurance, to convey it wasn't your fault if that was a concern. However, silence prevails as he observes you swiftly refocus on finding your missing item.

“Come on. Let’s keep looking.”

Complying with your request, Seokmin sifts through your belongings, eventually retrieving the misplaced wallet from beneath the bed. Announcing his discovery, you release a breath of relief and claim it back at your fingertips. He prizes the brief smile on your face before proceeding with the rest of today's plans.

The search for fortitude after it was all over went as well as expected, with most encounters with potential sellers assuming that you were looking for places with Seokmin, not just with Seokmin as each other's company. After the fifth apartment for sale, correcting them becomes less of an effort, and you find yourself momentarily forgetting that all of this is for your own distant, separate futures.

You arrive home, starved and parched from your scheming and Seokmin, ever the gentleman, playfully suggests that he takes charge of the evening’s dinner. You, as usual, politely resist, already taking the initiative a step before he could, following his lighthearted protests. Eventually, you compromise, allowing him the duty of gathering produce from the fridge and placing them on the kitchen island.

The absence of your spouse during these dinners has become a common occurrence, allowing his presence replaced by a string of repetitive excuses that you could only assume were to cover up his ongoing affair. It’d still leave a resonating ache in the pit of your stomach, but you’d be lying if you said the sensation hadn’t dulled since meeting Seokmin. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, you said it hurt.”

“What did?”

"The ropes—if that's okay to ask! I—" His cheek flushes into a furious red, and bashfully, the surface of his palm covers the lower half of his face. Chuckling anxiously to himself, a glimpse of regret becomes evident on his face. "You know what? Never mind."

“No, what? You can ask, it's ok.”

“It’s just. I’m just a little curious.”

“Yes?”

“Being tied down for you was…arousing?”

You softly giggle, “For a bit it did. That’s when I still had a bit of input.”

“When did that stop?”

“Maybe when he got frustrated. I became less willing to do it. I wanted to try other things and he wouldn’t budge either.”

“...Like what?”

“He was always the one in control,” You shrug, “Wanted to try it out for once. He felt insulted.”

“That’s stupid.”

“I know right.” You shake your head. “He was different since. And so was sex. The little we had anyway.”

“...Ami said I was a pussy.”

You pause in your movement, turning your head towards him, observing as his head drops past his shoulders.

“She said I wasn’t a real man. ‘Out of all the men I was arranged to marry, why was it the most pathetic one?’”

You meet eyes, recognizing quiet sorrow in them. “That’s not true.”

“It is. I could be stronger, I could be manlier.”

“You’re very manly, Seokmin,” you reassure.

“Really?”

“Of course you are.”

“...Even if I wondering what it’s like to have those ropes to tie me down? Am I still manly then?”

A surprised and nervous tone colors your words as you feel a response catch in your throat. "Are you serious?"

“Gravely,” he says without thinking. "But, you know, it's just a random thought—"

“Would you like to experience it for yourself?”

“Are you serious?”

“Gravely,” you imitate, grinning.

He gives a tentative nod, the blush now unhidden by his hands. "Okay."

Guiding him back to your bedroom, the soft glow of the lamp casts a warm ambiance. You open the drawer he inadvertently discovered earlier today, its contents revealing an array of intriguing items. With deliberate care, you extract the rope from its designated spot, feeling its smooth texture under your fingertips. The room holds a hushed anticipation as you methodically untangle the rope, each loop a dance of shadows and highlights. You observe Seokmin's gaze, noting the subtle shifts in his expression as he follows the intricate journey of each strand unfurling in the dim light.

A subtle fire charges the air, palpable in the way his breath catches and his eyes widen. There's a flicker of uncertainty in his expression, a nervous anticipation that surfaces as he watches the rope unfold. The gravity of the situation settles in, and you can sense his apprehension growing with each meticulous loop you release. It's as if the sight of the rope carries an unspoken weight, stirring a mixture of curiosity and anxiety in him.

“You look nervous.”

He takes a pronounced swallow, hand coming around his other wrist. “You’ve never done this before, right?”

“I've seen it enough times to mimic it.” You walk towards him cautiously, the subtle rustle of the rope in your hands. "Do you trust me?"

Hesitantly, he nods.

Obediently, he pins his wrists to one another, your fingertips coming around to loop around either one. As you secure the knot, you notice the subtle tension in his shoulders, curiosity playing across his features. The room is filled with a quiet intensity, broken only by the hushed sound of your movements.

"How’s that feel?" You ask, adjusting the knot.

"Kind of tight?"

"Oh, sorry–"

"No, don’t be. It’s interesting," He replies, fingers exploring the texture of the material.

"Interesting, like it feels good?"

"I think so, but…"

"But?"

He hesitated, her gaze shifting toward the window. "How different is it tied to something? Like a bed frame?"

“Pretty different. You have a bit of control with just your wrists tied. When it’s against something…like a bed frame…there’s none of it. You’re kind of helpless.”

“Helpless,” he echoes breathlessly.

“Is that something you want to try too?”

Silently, he nods, his eyes flickering with anticipation. As you start to untangle the ropes, you internally count your breaths, and then lead him to the bed. Your knee sinks into the soft cushion of the mattress, sensing Seokmin's deliberate movement as he gradually takes over the center. His eyes, wide and lucid, silently observe your actions. A concentrated, half-lidded scrutiny follows as you maneuver between his legs, your heart pounding in your chest. With determination, you reach for one wrist, swiftly pinning it to one corner.

As the rope winds its way around his wrist, a subtle shiver courses through him, betraying the nerves that have taken residence beneath his skin. His hands, once steady, now exhibit a discernible tremor, a physical manifestation of the anxious anticipation that tightens every muscle. Then it comes to his second wrist. Each loop seems to tighten the grip of uncertainty, and you can almost hear the accelerated beat of his heart as the binding becomes more tangible. The quiet room amplifies the rustle of the rope, echoing the unease that dances in his eyes, creating a palpable tension that hangs in the air. 

His eyes flutter at the pace of his heart, swallowing tension built in his throat, and a shallow breath escapes him. You limply part from your work, reluctant to meet his eyes, as yours bat erratically. Your lips part to speak, but all that escapes is a breathless awe, hardly forming an unsteady “T-there.”

You find yourself unable to avert your gaze, observing as he grapples with the situation. The sight of his struggle seems to compound his embarrassment, evident in his feeble attempts to break free—though it becomes apparent that success is an elusive feat, even with earnest effort.

The memory of your first time is what initially pops into your mind. You remember how anxious you felt–feeling your heart race even between your legs as if it were possible–yet elated to do something so different, and then the pleasure. The sensation of feeling everything at once. Sweat pilled on your skin humiliatingly, only your cries used to fight back. You haven’t thought positively about that experience until now, seeing it reflected onto Seokmin.

“They are really hard to get out of actually,” he chuckles defeatedly, but not so much so that doesn’t find himself enjoying the circumstance.

A nervous hum leaves your nose as you exhale, clenching the arousal between your legs cautiously. “Good now you know. So I guess—”

“I’m really helpless like this…can’t even get out of these on my own.” You perceive the audible constriction in his throat, a subtle indication that becomes evident as he articulates his words. Although unsteady, he isn’t scared. Something else flickers in his vision. Something that almost scares you.

Ultimately, you quietly acknowledge him with a mumble, reaching over to one side to undo your knots, but he stops you with a single word. With your hands trembling, your focus intensifies on the intricate task of trying to loosen the binds that restrain him. Your gaze remains fixed on the knots, avoiding direct eye contact, as the palpable tension in the room mirrors the shackles you’ve put yourselves in: his being physical, while yours are mental.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.

“You look at me differently now don’t you?”

You shake your head apprehensively, your grip tightening around the ropes, half-expecting them to bind you physically, yet realizing it's the thoughts swirling in your mind that truly threaten to restrain you. “Why do you say that?”

There’s a soft scoff that makes its way to your ears, registering his disbelief. “You can’t even meet my eyes…are you embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t you look at me?” He asks poignantly.

“I’ve never been in this out position before.”

“In control?”

You take a moment to yourself to breathe, dropping your head, still gripping around the rope lethally. “Seokmin.”

“Look at me,” there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. “I’d feel less shameful if you do… what are you thinking?”

You raise your head and meet his eyes, a blend of vulnerability and determination flickering in your gaze. A myriad of words that could have been spoken in response swirl within you, yet each one remains submerged, reluctant to surface and make its presence known. The weight of unspoken sentiments lingers heavily, creating a palpable silence between you.

In the quiet intensity of the moment, his fingertips hand in the charges air, sifting to move between your digits and lock them together. The unspoken tension between you both transforms into something tangible, hanging in the air like a delicate thread, on the verge of snapping. As your eyes linger on one another, a mutual message is exchanged, and without a word, the distance closes. 

The kiss is gentle at first, before the heat of his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, softly pulling it towards him. Your lip lock only intensifies as your body presses against his, responding to the desperation that has woven its way through the conversation. The room, once filled with fervency, now holds the soft symphony of a connection finding its place.

As the moment stretches, you muster the strength to finally pull away, cognizant that the power to do so rests solely with you. A gentle reluctance permeates the atmosphere, tinting it with a subdued pink rather than the earlier flickering intensity of red, as you gradually draw back.

Your gazes linger for a fleeting moment, exchanging unspoken promises and silently acknowledging the connection that perhaps shouldn't have been forged. The room retains the echo of the shared intensity, leaving both of you contemplating the significance of what had just transpired.

You release yourself from his touch, the sensation lingering on your skin as your mind wanders, assessing the unfolding actions and the potential consequences. However, despite your attempt at detachment, his words persistently weave through the corridors of your thoughts, rendering any escape from their influence seemingly impossible. “You like being in control?”

You eventually nod.

“Act like it.”

“How?” You question, eyes searching for guidance.

“However you want?” 

You seize a fleeting moment, the world around you momentarily suspended, as you deliberate, attempting to release the grip of your inhibitions. The soft murmur of your surroundings becomes a distant echo, drowned out by the internal dialogue that unfolds as you grapple with the decision to unshackle yourself from the mental constraints that have held you captive. It's someone else's job now, not yours. After a thoughtful pause, you finally exhale, uttering a simple but profound, "Okay."

You press yourself against him, your knees locking him at his waist. “Just don’t go whining about it. Or do.” Your hand glides over his restrained wrist, fingering over the vein revealed from his uncuffed sleeve dropping to his forearm, as your other hand claims his face. Initially soft and cool, your touch carries an understated gentleness. Yet, beneath its surface lies a latent warmth that simmers on the skin, gradually intensifying like a path of hellfire. A burgeoning confidence unfolds in you like a delicate bud blossoming into a vibrant bloom. It unfolds gradually but with a definite determination, poised to flourish. “There’s not much else you can do anyway. Isn’t that how you like it?”

"Yes," he confesses, his lungs momentarily devoid of air, the admission hanging in the space like a weighty secret reluctantly released.

The corners of your lips gracefully curl upwards, imparting a subtle but undeniable sense of amusement or satisfaction. “To answer your question earlier, being tied down does still make you manly.” Your hand runs down the length of his arm, settling against the structure of his collarbone, closing the distance between your lips and his honey-glazed skin. "I believe the epitome of true masculinity is found in the act of surrender. It's about willingly placing oneself in a position of trust, embracing vulnerability with unwavering courage."

"Really," he challenges, doubt injecting a sharp edge into his words. "You think that highly of me? Even though you’re the one that can do whatever you want with me?”

“I do.”

You pull apart from him, distancing your bodies and sinking into the bed once you find its edge. You bat your eyes back at him slowly as your hand lands on the top of your chest, releasing a slow and steady breath. “It is simply your form of expression, and in return, I’ll show you mine.”

You fiddle with your buttons, exposing skin bit by bit. Your chest heaves and your legs shift to raise your upper body, anchored by your calves and ankles. Your blouse drops down your shoulders to leave your body, and your cladded breasts are what Seokmin gravitates to first.

Seokmin’s eyes ventured from your lines, the curves once hidden underneath the barrier of your clothes, now in plain sight like art mounted for display. He processes the fullness of your thighs as they drop against your hind legs, and he doesn’t hear the whimper that makes it past his contorted lips.

Hands gripping the sheets, you crawl in prowess towards him wide-eyed until you’re between his legs once again. “Nervous?”

He takes a gulp, his voice tight. “Not in the slightest.”

“Good.” Your fingers move similarly to before, now with your pants which have clung to your body since you’ve worn them. 

Seokmin doesn’t for a moment think of a thing as the fabric pulls over your thighs, skin revealing like the first appearance of colored television, nothing short of a visual marvel. He feels gutted, grappling with his restraints. As the sight of you draws near, the longing for your touch bolsters, and an undeniable compulsion surges within him. He barely manages to make out your name in timid haste.

“I’m curious what is like for you to touch my body. How’d you stroke my skin, or caress my legs,” You softly tease, pleased to see the effect you’ve made as he visibly clenched his abdomen. “but I wonder more what it's like for you unable to do a thing as I undress myself.”

"Devastating, truly," he remarks with a chuckle, the irony hanging heavier in the air than any spoken words could convey. “I never thought I’d despise being on the receiving end of a strip tease. Emphasis on tease.”

The pants hit the floor as you shrug them off, “Well, that’s the point of tying you up. You wondered what it was like.” You grinned impishly, “Can’t say you’re disappointed because you didn’t get what you wanted”

“Well, I wouldn’t. Though, I’d appreciate it if—“ Your itching hand grazes the top of his dress shirt, finding the top button and delicately allowing it to come apart. “—if. Ahem. Uh…”

“Yes?”

“I, uh…” he never does finish that sentence, too preoccupied with every button displaced, slowly revealing the tension of his bare torso. He shivers as a brisk draft ripples through his body, his shirt with its open flaps curtaining his taut body, flexing in suspense. “I lost my train of thought…”

You softly chortle as the tip of your nail travels down his concave valleys in interest. “I bet you did.”

Inescapably, you find yourself drawing closer with only a whisper of space between the two of you. Unseen, the sound of Seokmin’s belt unravels, and his eyes widen in shock—catching him off guard. You watch him hauntingly while your hands admire him in a way he’s never even dreamt of. 

You roll his erect nipples between your fingers. “Does it excite you? To get doted on? All the attention on you?”

He whimpers quietly, a sigh weakly following. “Yes.”

Your smile lifts up from one end, parting your lips curiously as you tighten your fingers. He winces with short bursts of gasps following and his legs writhe in place while his eyes gloss over in teary awe. “Like when I compliment you? Or when I’m teasing your pretty little parts?”

“Yes. Both.” You wrapped your lips on his bud, the front of your teeth grazing his sensitive skin, and you sucked in your breath. He emits the lightest, airiest of sighs and dips his lower torso into the bed. The rope's friction bit into his skin, undoubtedly causing a burning sensation, only further enticing him.

You softly scoff, leveling your face with him. Your hand glides soothingly over his cheek, cooled by sweat pilling on his forehead, now your inadvertent warmth contrasting against him. “I'm honestly surprised by you, Seokmin. If you wanted me to tie you up, you should’ve just said so. I’d easily comply.”

He nuzzles against your touch, the tip of his nose tracing the crevice of your palm. “I’m sorry.” 

You offer him a gentle, welcoming smile. “Don’t be. You’re under my care now.”

“…Am I?”

“Well, are you?”

He moans your name again, longing your hands against his body as you only caress his skin without so much an inkling of moving lower. “Please, that's all I want.”

“What is it you want then?” You grab his chin between your thumb and index. “Tell me everything.”

“Whatever you want to do with me.”

“And if I wanted to just play all evening?” You tested.

He nods back determined. “I’d let you.” 

“If I’d sit on your face?”

His breath cuts off in his throat, losing sanity over the potential of your arousal drowning him in bliss. “I’d make sure I’m a proper seat.”

“If I don’t let you cum?”

He clenches his fists, exhaling as you meet your knee with his crotch, where a tent pitched itself right in his trousers. It moves anxiously, already submerging himself in the power of your words. “I’d wait my turn. No matter how long it takes.”

“…And if I want to milk you dry.”

“I’d give you my lifeline…I’m yours.”

In that fleeting moment, the rest of the world dissolves into insignificance. You find yourself yielding to the warmth of his gaze, entranced by the cadence of his language and the resonance of his tone. Finally, you did just what was inevitable. 

As Seokmin is bare down to his skin, your hand travels down to the base of his shaft and glides up delicately to his tip. Your lips pressed generously against his collarbone, nipping at his smooth and flustered skin. Your thumb strokes over his veins, grip squeezing his girth, and inadvertently he whines out of his control.

“You’re teasing me…”

“Is that not what you wanted?” Your lips gradually trail down his chest, lowering to hover right over his length that stands mere inches away from your face. “Or are you wanting something more?”

“Of course, I want what you want. I’m s-sorry…”

The tip of his cock kisses against your lips and twitches upon contact. You feign innocence in his gaze and purse your lips. “I can’t help but think, you want me to wrap my lips around your cock. Stuff down my throat. Spill your hot cum inside me.”

“Please,” he moans.

You slot him between your lips and suck on his sensitivity. You hum his name, every syllable vibrating around his skin. He groans observing you, nearly thrusting into your mouth before you decide to slam down his thighs. “Mmh-Mhh, you know better than to do that.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeatedly mumbles, “You’re just so pretty there.”

“Though that may be, you chose to trust me, and now I need to trust you. Behave.”

He swallows apprehensively. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll apprehend you if you don't. I have more than one set of ropes.”

Seokmin’s heart slightly twitches at that, but he decides to obey for now, hoping there’s another opportunity another day. He wouldn’t want to test his limits.

His cock has made its way between your lips once again, exploring deeper until you meet halfway down his length. With your free hand, you tend to his remaining size, feeling it pulse in your touch. His groans become the background music for his symphony of arousal, while the sensation of your hallowed cheeks tug against him.

You allow him to plunge deeper, wide eyes peering at him for his reaction, and you feel the impulsive thrust of his hips again. Only this time, you let him. You feel every inch consume you, lodged far down your airways, traveling at a needy–even desperate–pace. You shut your eyes, feeling your tears burn your skin. Ultimately, you pull out before he gets close, registering his pink cheeks and bite-swollen lips after regaining your sight. You cough away from him, catching your breath and the apology leaving Seokmin’s lips once again.

“I’m so sorry! Fuck! I–”

“I said I’d apprehend you, didn't I?”

You make good on your promise and another pair of ropes makes an appearance, pinning him at either corners of the bed and splaying him like a starfish, rendering him completely defenseless. 

He deserves this, he thought, unable to resist the inexplicable thrill that coursed through him. He’d struggle against the rope had it not been for the remainder of your strip show. The slow slip of your bra strap, the release of your clasp, baring you raw in your gorgeous glory. If he had his fists, he’d be biting them. Hell, if he had any control of his limbs, he’d worship you on the very floor you walk on, crushed under you the ball of your feet, and using his hands for your pleasure and your pleasure only.

Perhaps that’s why he could not help but be more aroused like a teenager discovering porn for the first time. That was the beauty of it. It was something Ami never understood. She wanted him to do it all: be the dominant partner all the time, be a one-and-done fucking machine. You are willing to explore things, even with him, and you didng make him feel small about it. He can’t help but feel eternally grateful it's with him.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but he had already fallen for you the moment his eyes laid on your photos. He couldn’t believe the sight you were nor the fact that you were on the receiving end of this distress. He knew he had to meet you. He just hadn’t factor in what it’d do to him when it happens.

Even as your legs border either of his side, he’s in disbelief. Your pretty cunt stares back at him in want, aching for his presence just as he aches to explore you. He can feel the drool make it past the corner of his lips as your heat radiates off you, just before letting his raw length part your walls.

A hearty moan escapes you, and all Seokmin can think of how sweet it sounds in company with the moisture of your arousal. Your knees dig into the mattress as you adjust to his size, hips naturally grinding against him before he fully is plunged inside. Drinking in his groans, you slightly fall forward and find your grip on the bedframe, not realizing how easy it is to claim Seokmin’s hands.

A smile tugs at your lips as you delicately weave your fingers through his. You rest your forehead against his, softly cooing back at him. “You’re being so good for me.”

“Anything for you," he responds, his voice filled with a tender, intimate sincerity.

“Mmh, Seokmin...”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Would you like the control of your hands again?”

His eyes flicker back at you, seeing the certainty in your eyes, before hesitatingly nodding. Carefully, you release him, gently soothing the red marks on either wrist. Pleadingly, he asks for your permission to touch you, and easily you oblige, taking his hands. You guide him where he may touch, letting them stroke up your sides. You softly sigh as you let him regain his power, letting it surge through him as he replenishes feeling in his arms.

He balls your flesh in fists, pushing deeper inside you as his tongue grows more possessive. You clench around him, hands accessing his body like free real estate, playing with all the amenities. “Are you that happy? Touching me like I’m yours?”

He throws his head back, assessing his grip on you to pull you forward, giving you a long awaited liplock. He rediscovers your plush tongue, retracing its pattern as he pushes you closer against him to the best of his abilities with his contradicted ankles. He claims you from your lower back, rolling his hips against you, as your furnace-hot body intoxicates him like a drug. “I’m elated. You make me so happy. You have no idea.”

Your exuberant sounds fold over one another, building the tension off your bodies until you’ve reach their highest form. Seokmin was the first to express it. Even before he mumbles how close he is, he’s embracing you tighter as his hot breath fans down your flustered body. To that, you say the first response that comes to mind. “Cum in me.”

“W-without a—“

You tense tighter around him, legs clutching around him desperately. “Cum inside me, Seokmin.”

You get what you want in the end. The streams of white warmth painting your inside are perfection. Like bursts of ribbons in a festive air, he releases a lingering sense of ecstasy. Falling against his chest, you count his pants by the heave of his chest, drifting off from fatigue. 

With the bit of energy you had left, you undo Seokmin’s knots, and rest comes easy, no matter how early into the night it still is. 

You don’t remember the last time you were held like this. You don’t know if you were held ever like this. His eyes, though weary, radiate a smile that mirrors the gentle curve of his lips. A hand slides behind your head, fingers gently stroking, and his soft sighs become a melodic comfort, conveying solace without the need for words. In his presence, a profound sense of peace envelops you, creating a reluctance to part from this moment of tranquility.

Dinner, once a fleeting moment before the spontaneous decision of sex, turns into a midnight meal, a meal draped in each other comfort. Seokmin effortlessly slips into your comforting pair of sweatpants, while you envelop yourself in his once-abandoned dress shirt, a tangible reminder of the intimacy shared. Together, you concoct a pot of instant ramen, opting for the simplicity of a quick meal rather than the meticulousness of a dish crafted from scratch.

“That smells delicious,” he compliments.

“Sorry, it couldn’t be better.”

His hands find a secure hold on your body, his head gently resting over your shoulder. "It's no bother at all. Plus, you've already worked up quite an appetite."

His kisses, soft against your temple, coincide with the casual embrace of his arms around your waist. Your curves seamlessly mold into the contours of his body, like two pieces naturally falling into place, creating a comforting bond between your bodies.

“Stil, you deserve better than ramen.”

“It’s Shin ramen. It's the best of its kind. I’m more than honored.”

“You’re silly…I like that.”

“Good. I like you. I’m glad that I got to meet you.” His words are accompanied by a gentle squeeze of your hand.

You grin. “Me too…but we can’t do that again.”

“Oh, well why not?”

"Well, for now." You playfully tap his nose with a chopstick. "Let's wait until everything is done. Until we’re both free again.”

He sighs, dejected at your request. “You’re right, but…”

He effortlessly lifts you from the ground and you drop your utensils on the ground. Abruptly, he settles you onto the kitchen counter. The coolness from the marble is chilling as the surface provides a sudden, invigorating contrast to your warm skin. Startled, your eyes flutter back at him, steadying yourself with hands resting on his shoulders. You succumb to the warmth in his eyes, a honeyed allure that wraps you in the comforting embrace of his touch.

“How do you expect me to live on without you in my arms? I’ll never know peace like it.” Seokmin's voice carries a warmth that wraps around you like a blanket, one that is not weighted with darkness and anxiety, but instead laden with love and good faith.

You respond by pulling him into a tight embrace, legs playfully anchoring around his torso. A smile graces your lips as you enjoy the closeness. “A test of faith. Then we can truly enjoy each other's company.”

“I’ll be counting the days then,” he says with a smile

You persist in meeting Seokmin, navigating the divorce process until you're on the verge of its completion. Ironically, amidst the dissolution's purpose, you sense the blossoming of a new connection amid the ruins of another.

“You didn’t have to take me home. You know how risky it is.”

He sighs, squeezing your hand in his, dreading the moment you have to leave. He has grown accustomed to your presence, and every night without you feels like a painful void in his heart, as he awaits the arrival of the following morning. "I can't wait until this is all over."

“Me too. I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after and the day after—“

“Lord knows how we get any work done,” he giggles.

"I know, right." You let the moment linger a second longer before sharing a final embrace, stealing a kiss on his cheek as you slip away from his grasp. Through the tinted windows, you smile, aware of the blush you've ignited on his face.

Arriving home, the joy is dampened by the sight of familiar shoes. Suppressing your unease, you greet your husband with a forced smile, avoiding eye contact. "Mingyu? Honey? Is that you? No overtime tonight?

You're met with a stern expression and a decisive declaration. Devoid of warmth, he slams a stack of papers onto the kitchen counter–documents that have become all too familiar over these past few weeks.

“I want a divorce.”

[highvern]

Totally Scrooged TEASER

Pairing: Lee Seokmin x f!reader

Genre: neighbor!au, idiots to lovers, fluff/angst/smut

warnings:  alcohol consumption, others tbd

Teaser Length: ~1.5k | Full Fic Length: ~20k

Note: it's christmas timeeeee!!!!!! i missed DK so dearly since Teach Me so I had to bring him back for the holidays. everyone, check out the rest of the fics on @camandemstudios everyone worked so hard and im so excited to read them. thank u @gyuswhore and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-ing this teaser

summary: When your ex decides to propose to his best friend he told you not to worry about only eleven months after your breakup, you decide the holidays aren’t worth it this year. You’re dedicated to ignoring the red and green splashed on every surface, but your neighbor has a way of convincing you maybe the holidays aren’t totally bad.

collab m.list || m.list

Comment to be tagged when the fic is posted later this month!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Shot number four is about the time you realize drinking your sorrows alone in your apartment on a Saturday night is a little bit pathetic. But you unlock your phone out of habit and the same picture of your ex down on one knee in the middle of the street in marathon gear stares back at you, and a fifth shot sounds exactly like what you need.

At least the burn of peppermint schnapps is festive.

Ten months. You and Sam split barely ten months and he’s already engaged to Carson. 

After three years of dating, getting Sam to talk about plans further than a month out was like pulling teeth. When he asked you to move in with him you thought there was a very real chance he suffered some head injury that day. Sam and long term commitment didn’t mix. Your entire relationship felt like borrowed time. His engagement proved it was the truth.

In hindsight, you should’ve trusted your gut about Sam’s “platonic” “childhood” “best” “friend.” 

They did everything together. Their families vacationed in Montauk every summer, they alternated who hosted which major holiday despite living next door, there isn’t a single milestone either achieved without the other. Every time you visited his parents house the plethora of photos of your boyfriend and his best friend from cradle to present day seemed to grow exponentially. 

She’s like my sister.

Most people would frown upon dating a sibling after breaking up with their long term girlfriend, who was sick at home with the flu during Christmas, via text but what do you know? You’re the one sitting on your couch in a tiny apartment you can barely afford wallowing in drunk sorrows while they’re out celebrating.

It’s addicting. Scrolling through all the comments on their engagement photos, with a blanket over your head like some fairytale witch. Sam’s friends you tried so hard to bond with flood the comments, gushing about how cute he and Carson are, how happy they are for them. 

Your friends texted you how big of a jerk he was, a few calls but you ignored them. All you want is to wallow in self pity. 

Like the judgemental diva she is, Shinx watches from her tower in the corner, green eyes disdainful. She never liked Sam anyway.

It’d be better if Carson wasn’t objectively likable. Everyone liked her, you included. At least, until your boyfriend dumped you in a three sentence text and she posted a picture of them together on her Instagram not twenty four hours later with the caption “the best things take a while” – color coordinated for the Spencer family photo shoot in front of their lake house.

Assholes.

Even when she isn’t dolled up for pictures, you can’t even pretend she isn’t pretty. Carson looks like she belongs on a Hollywood set, even after running a 5k at the crack of dawn. Perfect messy ponytail, face rosie but not too red. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. 

Shot number seven empties the bottle.

Through the living room wall your neighbor belts the lyrics to Celine Dione’s “All By Myself.”

It was ignorable the first few times he replayed it – a little poetic even given the circumstances – but it’s been nearly twenty minutes and you don’t need to be reminded how alone you are. You rocket off the couch and land against the wall with a thud.

“Keep,” knock. “It.” Knock. “Down.” Knock. Knock. KNOCK.

Mr. Neighbor, because you don’t know his name, sings louder.

In the months you’ve lived in this apartment you’ve met your neighbor exactly twice. When you first moved in only two weeks after your break up because Sam’s name was on the lease - not yours – and this was the only place you could find on such short notice in the middle of winter. You had the unfortunate privilege of riding the elevator with him in complete silence, only the sound of your pathetic cries as you moved soggy box after box. He was at least polite enough to take the stairs afterwards. And last month, during a building-wide fire drill because someone on the second floor fell asleep while making boiled eggs. Neither of you felt very chatty at four in the morning.

You couldn’t care less about splotchy cheeks or if your eyes were bloodshot. In your drunken righteousness, you don’t care that there’s mascara running down your face or the sweatshirt billowing around you has grease stains. Something snapped in you. Gritting your teeth, you rush out to the hall and straight for the neighboring door.

Your knuckles sting with each knock but he doesn’t answer until you escalate to pounding against the metal door like the police.

Mr. Neighbor must hear that because Celine cuts off mid-belt. Seconds later the door flies open.

He’s taller than you remember, your eyes level with a hole in the collar of his sweater. When you drag your gaze away from the dip of his throat the combination of tears and booze makes deciphering his face incredibly difficult because he has four of them and they keep moving back and forth in blurry circles. His dark hair sticks up in a million directions. Like he put his finger in an electric socket and then tried to fix the mess himself.

Mr. Neighbor stares at you, expression unreadable. “Can I help you?”

“You know,” you start, teetering on drunk feet as you shove an indignant finger into his chest. “Some of us just want to come home from work and relax! Not listen to their neighbors screaming at the top of their lungs.”

“I didn’t realize it was that loud,” he hiccups. “I’ll turn it down.”

It’s hard to be angry when he looks like a mirror image of you. Wet, red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling nose. There’s booze in the air which could be yours but with the state he’s in it’s doubtful. Who listens to “All by Myself” ten times if they aren’t also sobbing alone in the dark? 

Guilt squeezes your chest. “Sorry, I’m just…rough day.”

Mr. Neighbor doesn’t say anything for a long time, appraising you silently. If you weren’t drunk off your rocker then the fact you aren’t wearing a bra and the old sweater you tossed on does nothing to hide that fact might be embarrassing. Or how you aren’t even wearing shoes, just fuzzy socks with a hole in the ankle. You also smell like a drunk elf who escaped the North Pole.

“It’s okay. Sorry about the music.”

Mouth moving before you know what comes out, you stop him from leaving just yet. “Why are you crying?”

“Stupid shit. Why are you crying?”

You want to brush it off. You’re not looking for pity. Sam objectively sucked, and your relationship would’ve ended one way or another. Sometimes, it just feels good to cry all the frustration out and wish the worst on people. And you really would prefer not to do either of those things with your neighbor you hardly know. 

Especially, when you realize he’s objectively hot even through the blur of tears and intoxication. But alcohol has a way of loosening even the tightest lips.

“My ex got engaged.”

His eyes widened in shock before softening in pity. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

You don’t sense any ulterior motive. Mr. Neighbor has the vibe of someone who never met a stranger, one of those people you tell your life story to in the airport when your flight’s delayed only to leave and realize the only thing you learned about him was he also hated airline food and thought flying first class on domestic flights was a waste of money.

Maybe whatever “stupid shit” he was crying over can be a distraction from your own baggage. If it can’t, at least the invite to complain to a person completely unexposed to the drama of your love life wasn’t half bad. 

However, you don’t know him. His stupid shit could be infinitely worse and then you look like the asshole while he’s crying over his childhood pet passing away back at his parents house while he’s stuck in his apartment because flights during Thanksgiving are ungodly expensive.

Either way, another person to whine about the world with sounded nice.

You say yes.

taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @wobblewobble822

@futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin

@isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy @lukeys-giggle

@aaa-sia @tinkerbell460 @gyuhao365 @ourkivee  @bokk-minnie

@cookiearmy  @AliceFortescue @moonlightwonu @Ateez-atiny380 @LexyRaeWorld

@melonacco @lllucere @wwjagabeee @syluslittlecrows @yourbimbohope

@whrryuu @wonrangwoo @xchaenx @Nuttywastelandmentality @champagnenoona

@kyeomofhearts @gyuchanator @archivistworld @spookyeomgoose @very-important-army

[seokmn]

SAUDADE

its another friday night, but this time youre alone. there’s no friday-night-movies-and-cuddling anymore since you and seokmin broke up, which left you feeling lonely.

you found yourself scrolling through your pictures of when you were still together, you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your heart and let some tears flow down your face.

you missed the way he would do anything to make you happy, maybe it hurt him more seeing you sad than you feeling the sadness yourself. you missed his long and full of love texts, he would never reply to your text in a dry way, instead he would always send heartwarming texts with heart emojis and cute emoticons to reassure you that he loves you and is not mad. you missed his selfies, the selfies he would send you after waking up, going to work, eating, getting back to work and going to bed.

you stared at the picture of you two eating his homemade food, oh how you missed his food. the way he always made sure you had at least one proper meal. his quiet and melodic humming becoming singing and filling the kitchen with his soft voice while hes focused on chopping the vegetables, the way you would hug him from the back while hes cooking, one hand mixing the ingredients and the other reaching out for your hands, making sure that you wouldnt break the hug so soon.

and your late night talks? you loved so much, always talking about your feelings or talking about anything that would turn into a deep conversation or to you giggling while he kisses your neck and pulls you closer telling how much he loves you.

at this point you were missing even your arguments, the only way of you two moving on from the argument being you peppering him with kisses, starting with his cheeks, moving to his forehead, going back to his cheeks, following to his chin, then one kiss on the tip of his nose and one sweet and gentle, but yet full of love, kiss on his lips. he would always immediately melt into your kiss and press his forehead against yours while caressing your cheek and whispering softly “im sorry.. i love you”.

but mostly of all, you missed his touch and his gentle love. his hands always reaching out for your hands or your cheeks. the way he used to caress your hair in such a gentle and slow pace to make sure he wouldnt mess your hair up when your head was laying on his lap. his fingers traveling through your body, focusing on your “imperfections”, which to him they were far away from being imperfections and it always hurt him when you said you dont like something about your body, while telling you how perfect you are.

he loved you with all his heart and soul and was never scared to show you that love, but you took him for granted and now all you can do is miss him and wonder how things would have turned out if you didnt change around him out of nowhere because your insecurities, not letting him in and refusing to be vulnerable around him.

[wheeboo]

i miss you, don't call me | lee seokmin

SYNOPSIS. in which a particular boy has been clouding your mind lately, and you decide to drink away the thought of him𑁋when that isn't the right choice. PAIRING. ex!lee seokmin x gn!reader GENRE. angst, hurt/comfort... but also not really WARNINGS. drinking, swearing WORD COUNT. 2.5k

notes: kinda inspired from the song "i miss you, don't call me" by alessia cara. just wanna say i am forever guilty and full of shame for writing angst for this man. it feels completely out of character to write angst for him 😭😭

You hate the taste of alcohol.

You hate the way it lingers a bitter aftertaste on your lips, the way it burns like a smoldering ember down your throat that refuses to be extinguished, the way it wraps its tendrils around your senses and makes the world spin so merry around you.

You hate the taste of alcohol, yet there's a certain fascination in the way it blurs the edges of reality and a strange comfort in its familiarity. You were never usually one to drink in general, but tonight was different, and you find yourself caught between the resistance and the surrender, tip-toeing on the edge of clarity and a spellbound haze.

This is supposed to make you forget. Forget the deadlines, the expectations, the responsibilities, the miniscule hole in your chest that you have been trying to close. This is supposed to propel you in the right direction𑁋at least, that's what you convinced yourself in the hours before you wounded up in the middle of your living room with a half-empty glass in your hand. It's midnight, or something, you don't know for sure, and you couldn't be bothered to even check anyway.

This is supposed to help you forget him. He did nothing wrong, or anything wrong for the matter. His smile was always so bright like the sun, so full of life. He's like a bruise that refuses to fade, yet merely painful to the touch. You take another sip, and the amber liquid seems to carry with it the warmth of his laughter. And when you close your eyes just for a few seconds, you swear you can feel the warmth of that figurative sun on your face. Or maybe it's the alcohol. Or both.

It's been almost a year since you let him go. The reasons were complicated𑁋or simply, you both were just different𑁋and the echoes of that choice still reverberate in the quiet corners of your heart. You were convinced it was for the best for both of you, and all it took was two sentences for that line to be cut right on the same couch that you sat on.

And yet, the ache of his absence persists, leaving a void in your chest that you couldn't stitch up yourself.

Does he... still think about you from time to time?

It's a question you've asked yourself in the quiet moments before sleep. You wonder if he ever glances at the same moon that hangs in the night sky and thinks of the moments you shared under its wake.

You try to bury the thought away under the weight of another sip, but it resurfaces like an insistent tide as you let out a heated hiss to its taste. The room around you sways slightly, your head is starting to pound, and your thoughts are restless with nothing but just him.

The screen to your phone lights up on the coffee table, and you glance down at it, suddenly contemplating the idea of reaching out to him. Maybe it's the alcohol whispering in your ear, urging you to seek closure, or perhaps, rekindle a flame that was never truly extinguished.

The unanswered question lingers like a spectre in the room. Does he still think about you? The question gnaws angrily at your skin, and you find yourself reaching for the phone almost instinctively, as if drawn by a sudden invisible force.

With a deep breath, you unlock your phone. His contact is still there, his slightly blurry name staring right back at you like an open invitation. You tap a few times before landing on his number, and with a mixture of intoxication and courage, you press the call button.

The phone rings, each tone amplifying the drumming in your head. Your heartbeat quickens with each ring, the sound of it echoing in your ears. The haze in your mind seems to intensify, and you realise you might be crossing a line, but it's too late to turn back now.

The seconds tick away, and just as you begin to think about hanging up, he answers.

"Hello?"

His voice reaches through the phone and into your clouded consciousness. For a moment, you freeze, caught between the impulse to speak and the weight of the drunken-induced courage that made you make this call.

"Hey, Seokmin." Your voice comes out smaller and weaker than you anticipated.

A beat of silence follows your words. The weight of his name hangs in the air. You can almost sense Seokmin trying to process the unexpected call.

"Y/N?" His voice carries a mix of surprise and concern. "Is that really you?"

"Yeah," You reply, your words sounding less sure than you intended. "It's me."

There's another pause, and you can almost feel the distance between you two through the phone.

Then his voice comes through again, gentle and cautious, "Is everything okay?"

"Um..." You croak out, your thoughts stumbling over the words. "I just... I just needed to hear your voice."

Another pause. The only thing you could hear is the faint static on the other line.

"My voi𑁋Wait, are... are you drunk?"

A nervous laugh escapes your lips. "Uh, maybe a little," You admit embarrassingly.

Seokmin lets out a soft sigh on the other end of the line. You can't tell if it's from relief, concern, or disappointment, but the weight of it presses against your chest. It's almost suffocating.

"I just..." You start, the words hanging in the air. "is it bad to... to say that I miss you?"

The silence that follows is almost deafening. You can nearly imagine his face on the other end𑁋the ever expressive sunshine Lee Seokmin whom you spent nearly all of your college years with. A faint smile tugs at your lips at the thought of it, the thought of him. Sure, you've wondered how he has been from time to time, but tonight felt different. You can't tell if the alcohol is confusing missing with longing, or if it's amplifying a truth you've kept buried for too long.

"Y/N, you... We don't even live in the same city anymore." Seokmin's voice breaks the heavy silence. There's some suppression to his voice, like he's trying to hold something back, but you don't seem to notice. "Things have changed."

You bite your lip unconsciously, almost too hard you think it might bruise and bleed. The reality of it all settles in𑁋that you live hundreds of miles away from each other𑁋and a knot forms in your stomach. You take another sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol can provide some sort of shield for the vulnerability seeping through.

"I'm... I'm not asking to get back together, I..." Your voice trails off again, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "Things here have been awful, and I couldn't help... couldn't help but think of you, I guess."

Seokmin's side of the line remains quiet for a moment, absorbing the weight of your words. You can almost envision the wheels turning in his mind. There's a siren that wails outside your apartment for a few seconds, before fading away in the distance.

"You're drunk, Y/N," Seokmin states. "This isn't the best time to talk𑁋"

"I just wanted to know if you still thought about me too," You interrupt him, voice firm. The words are forcing themselves out at this point, and there's an urgency in your tone, almost as if the alcohol has taken control of your tongue.

Seokmin sighs audibly on the other end, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair.

"This... this isn't fair," he finally responds. "You can't just... call me in the middle of the night and tell me all this now."

His words sting, not because they're harsh, but because they're true.

"You were... you were always so cheery, you know?" You chuckle, words slurring slightly. "Even when I was drowning in stress, you had... th-this way of making everything feel lighter. And right now, I... I'm looking for a new job. Everything's been a fucking nightmare, and you... were the first person I thought of and..."

You stop your track in your words, gulping down an imaginary mass wedged down your throat. When your cast your eyes around your dark apartment, all you could see are the remnants of a life you used to share with him, and the mess you were left to clean up with.

You tighten your grip on your phone slightly. "Do you remember when, um... we used to stay up late, working on our assignments together? It... it feels like a lifetime ago."

There's a soft laughter you hear on the other end, and you think for a moment you might just have made him smile. You feel a little bit lighter at the thought.

"And... the pizza boxes that we turned into little tables because our dorm room couldn't fit all of our textbooks and a decent eating space?" You add on, finding yourself smiling to the visual. Just a tiny bit.

There's some shifting on the other side. He's remembering all of it too.

"We were a little messy back then, weren't we?" he chuckles fondly.

You bite your lip nervously again. "But... it was our mess, right?"

"Yeah," You hear him say, and there's a warmth in his voice. "Our mess that we somehow made work."

You take a sip of your drink again, even though you really shouldn't. But you can't help it. The alcohol seems to fuel your courage, or perhaps it's the shared nostalgia that wraps around your conversation like a comforting blanket. The messiness, the laughter, the late-night talks with his arms around you𑁋they were all part of a chapter that shaped both of you.

Your mind is hazy, but you press on, driven by a longing you can't quite articulate.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I called," You confess, voice trembling. "I just felt this emptiness, and I thought... I thought hearing your voice might fill it, even for just a second."

"It's okay," Seokmin is quick to reassure gently and soothingly. "You don't need to say sorry; it does... feel nice hearing you. But calling me in the middle of the night, when you're drunk... it's not the solution, okay?"

You nod, even though he can't see you. There's some heat that prickles at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, trying to contain yourself. You've already made an enough mess of yourself this entire night.

"I know it wasn't..." You clench and unclench your other hand, nails digging into your skin. "I just... needed someone to talk to, and you were that person for me."

"But... I'm not that person anymore," Seokmin clarifies, and his words seems to hit a nerve. "You have to be that person for yourself."

You inhale shakily, realising that you've been clinging to a version of him that exists only in memories. For a moment, you're suspended between the past and the present. The truth in his statement stings, but the pain is necessary. You've been using this idea of him, the memories you shared, to help ground you.

You wish you could reach through the phone and touch the past, rewrite the script, and undo the choices that led to this painful distance. But you already know you can't. It's too late.

Seokmin's right𑁋things have changed.

"Can you... just answer what I asked before?" You ask softly, carefully, tapping your fingers nervously against the glass in your hand. "If you... if you still thought about me."

There's a sound on the other end. You're not sure what it is𑁋a sigh, a chair shifting, or perhaps the subtle closing of his eyes. Whatever it is, it heightens the anticipation.

"Of course I... I do think about you," Seokmin admits, and that particular weakness to his voice paralyses you. Your heart catches in your throat. "I can never forget about what we had. But... we've both moved forward, Y/N. Life took us in different directions."

His words hit you like a cold breeze. It doesn't bring the comfort you expected; instead, it leaves you with a mix of emotions𑁋vulnerability, acceptance, and a tinge of sorrow.

"Maybe... in a different universe?" You hear the uncertainty in your own voice, a wistful hope that hangs in the heavy air around you.

You try to think you imagine a smile to his face when you say that, but the silence on the other end stretches out, and reality settles in again.

"Maybe," he concedes, and the word hangs there, suspended between what once was and what could have been. Just not in this one. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Y/N. I need you to be happy, even if it's without me. Life keeps moving, and we have to move with it. You're one of the strongest people I know, okay? You can get through this. I believe in you. I always have, and I always will."

You deserve happiness too, Seokmin.

Despite the gloominess to your thoughts, every single one of his words echoes within your head. And it hurts, your head throbbing from the alcohol and emotions. The truth tastes like a bitter pill, and you swallow it down, the sting lingering in your chest.

"I miss you," You admit before you could think straight, slipping out like a confession in the dark, suddenly feeling all too exposed.

"I... I miss you too," Seokmin responds hesitantly, softly; you can hear the small, hint of a smile in his voice. You wonder if he's been smiling like the sun these days. "but... I don't want you to call me like this. Not when you're hurting and drunk. It's not healthy for either of us."

His words carry a gentle yet firm tone, a reminder of the boundaries that now exist between you. You can feel the reality of the situation settling in and the pages that turned since you both went your separate ways.

"I know," You murmur. "I just... needed to say it out loud."

For a minute, you both don't say anything. It's oddly comfortable, yet fragile with an unspoken sadness.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay?" Seokmin's voice breaks through the quiet. It's a request, a plea.

"I promise," You respond, the sincerity cutting through the haze. "And you take care too, Seokmin."

The conversation lingers for a moment, as if both of you are reluctant to sever the weak tie that binds you in this moment.

"Goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Seokmin."

When the call disconnects, you sit there for a while, phone in hand, the room now silent except for the distant sounds of the city outside.

You glance down at the almost-empty glass down in your hand, and in a swift movement, down the rest of the drink down your throat, feeling the familiar burn as it goes down. The room seems to sway a bit more than before, and you clutch your phone a bit more tighter as if it might steady you.

Then you shoot your eyes back down at your phone, seeing the way it turns on when you tap the screen, the sudden brightness of the screen stinging your eyes.

Impulsively, you navigate to your messages, and without thinking too much, you find Seokmin's contact and start typing.

[y/n] i love you, i'm sorry

With a deep breath, you hit send, and flip your phone over. Fuck, what did you just do? You're going insane.

Then your phone vibrates again, and you quickly grab it, heart racing.

But then your heart drops. It's not a message; it's a notification.

The number you have reached is no longer available.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts

[onlymingyus]

Falling for U: Seokmin

pairing; lee seokmin (dk) x f reader (best friend!seungcheol)

genre; fluff, angst, smut (minors dni)

warnings; eating/drinking, dogs (reader is not allergic to dogs), reader is smaller than seokmin, feelings of self deprecation/not feeling good enough, talk about loneliness, smut warnings -- heaving pettings, grinding, fingering/teasing, dirty talk, cumming in pants

w/c; 7.6k and some change

bout you master list

a/n; thank you to @playmetheclassics @wonwussy @onlyseokmins @junkissed-replies for beta reading this -- i have decided to release this one in parts

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“Do you think there is something wrong with me?” 

Seungcheol had just put a Twizzler in his mouth when you spoke, flopping yourself down on your sofa dramatically. Your head now resting against the arm of the chair, Seungcheol watches you as he chews on the cherry candy, raising a brow before shaking his head. 

“In what way? Like in the way you are being annoyingly dramatic and cryptic right now, or…?” 

Shooting a dirty look at your best friend, you reach over to swipe one of his Twizzlers as you speak. “As in why I am still single, but maybe those are the reasons.” 

For all your faults, Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile at your words, shaking his head as he watched you gnaw almost sadly on the candy between your lips. Sighing softly, he moves from the chair across from you to smack at your arm so you will sit up, letting him sit with you. Patting his lap, Seungcheol lets you rest your head back down on his legs as he leans his head back and to the side on the back of the sofa so he can look down at you while he speaks softly. 

“You are single because you choose to be. Maybe not consciously, but you work too fucking hard and too much. You don’t make yourself available to many people, so how are they supposed to know how amazing you are?” 

Scoffing, you bite off a piece of the Twizzler in your hand, almost angrily, at Seungcheol’s words before pouting at him. You knew he was right about most of what he had said. You weren’t so sure about “how amazing” you were, but it was kind of him to say. 

“You are literally contractually obligated to be nice to me as my best friend, Choi Seungcheol. You have to say all these things to make me feel better about myself, and as grateful as I am, it doesn’t help my situation. If I’m honest, I’m lonely.” 

A sigh falls from your lips once again, Seungcheol’s hand moving over the top of your head as he furrows his brows in thought. He hated that you felt lonely; he knew that you hadn’t meant that against him, but it still stung a little bit. 

Chewing on his lip, Seungcheol watches you for a moment before speaking, “Y/N, I know some people. Some good guys... if you’d be interested in meeting some of them? I could maybe, like, set up some blind dates?” 

Your brows furrow at Seungcheol’s words. While you didn't mind meeting some of his friends, he had always been protective of you. Before he could even speak with you, he told his friend Mingyu that you were out of his league. What was different about these men? 

“Uh, what? Who are they? You never want me to date any of your friends, Cheol. You treat me like your little sister that they are gonna defile.” 

With his nose wrinkling at the idea, Seungcheol sighs, leaning his head back against the sofa. “Maybe I’m just... listen, alright? You said you were lonely. I want you to be happy, and this is different than meeting some of my dumbass friends at a party. The guys I have in mind are all—okay, let me backtrack; they, for the most part, have good heads on their shoulders. Do you know what I’m saying? They have jobs, they are smart, and I’ve never seen them mistreat anyone. Like I said, they are good guys. Maybe one of them could be, I don’t know... your Mr. Right?” 

Mr. Right. That makes your stomach do a flip. Your lips pull up in a smile before you can’t help but laugh, causing Seungcheol to do the same. “You are such an idiot. I don’t know if I believe in Mr. Right, but I…fuck it. Fine, you said guys, plural, so how many are we talking about, and do I at least get to know the names of the guys you are thinking of?” 

Seungcheol grins a bit at your curiosity, his teeth catching his bottom lip like a cat who caught a canary as he decides how much information to give you. With a small exhale, your best friend purses his lips and shrugs. 

“There are five guys I have in mind. That should give you plenty of options. At least one of them has to be less of a fuckup than the others by statistical standards. But as for their names, no. I think we will keep it completely blind. I’ll let you know their name before your date.” 

You watch Seungcheol shift a bit, a look of pride washing over his face as he considers his plan and how smart he feels at coming up with it. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his internal preening, eliciting a laugh from the man when he notices the look on your face. 

“It’ll be fun, Y/N. You need some fun and some spontaneity. I know you better than anyone. I promise that at least you will have a good evening with a nice guy.” Seungcheol takes a quick pause, letting out a small gruff sound and tilting his head in thought before following his words with, “Or I’ll kill him if he hurts you. Either way, it will be fun.”

Seokmin

Cheollie: Lee Seokmin

Y/N: Who is that? Am I supposed to know him?

Cheollie: Your first date. He wants to take you out on Saturday at 4 p.m. He will pick you up. 

Y/N: So soon? What sort of date? Is he cute? What is he like? What do I wear? Omg, Cheol…

Cheollie: 🙄 He’s attractive for one of my friends; I wouldn’t set you up with an ugly dude. What do you take me for? Dress in something cute but casual. That’s all you get. It’s a blind date, Dingus. Love you. 

Y/N: I hate you. 💖

You had done your best to try to find every Lee Seokmin in your local area, but there were just too many to narrow down which man would be showing up at your doorstep in just a few minutes. So, instead of staring at your phone any longer, you decided to move back to fussing about your hair and outfit. 

Seungcheol had said casual but cute, but now you were looking into the mirror, wondering if this was too casual. What if Seungcheol’s version of casual was different than Seokmin’s? This was the worst idea you had ever agreed to. With your phone in your hand, just as you were about to call Seungcheol to tell him to cancel on Seokmin, you heard the sound of your doorbell. 

“Fuck…” 

It was too late; one more glance at your phone told you it was 4:05. Seokmin was pretty prompt; you could appreciate that. Shoving your phone into your purse, you swallow hard, forcing your feet to move you toward your front door to pull it open. 

You weren’t sure what you had expected; you had looked at so many social media profiles, including his, but when Lee Seokmin smiled at you from your front door, your chest tightened. His smile was like sunshine, making you instantly feel warm—something like a hug, even though he was a few feet away and hadn’t yet spoken. 

“Y/N? I’m Seokmin…” 

Extending his hand, Seokmin bites at the inside of his bottom lip, hoping he wasn't at the wrong door. You were stunning, and he almost hated the idea that you wouldn’t be the girl he was going on a date with. You had already taken his breath away. Seungcheol had told him a little bit about you so he could have a bit of a head start, but one look at you and Seokmin’s brain was doing circles like an excited puppy. 

“Hi, yes. It’s really nice to meet you.” 

When your fingers slide over Seokmin's, you can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat. The instant feeling of electricity his skin sends through you makes you shiver slightly, causing Seokmin to tilt his head curiously. A laugh slips from your lips when you take your hand back, your lip caught between your teeth, feeling shy under his gaze. 

“I’ll just grab a sweater, and we can go. I literally know nothing about what we are doing. Seungcheol refused to tell me anything.” You put on your best Seungcheol impression, making Seokmin laugh as he watches you from your door while you pick up a sweater. “It’s a blind date, Y/N.” 

“I don’t know much myself; he only told me enough that I knew I really wanted to meet you. He is very…protective of you, but I can understand why, I think. If you are ready, I thought we could go to a cafe that I love.” 

You feel your cheeks burn at Seokmin’s words, “I can understand why”. Shaking your head to yourself, you laugh before meeting his gaze with a small nod, turning to close, and locking your door so you can walk beside him towards the sidewalk and his waiting car when Seokmin stops and reaches up to scratch the side of his head. 

“I…you know I should have asked Seungcheol, but I am a bit scatterbrained sometimes, and I can pick somewhere else if need be, but um, are you allergic to dogs?” 

Stopping as he does, you look up at Seokmin, tilting your head, only to laugh at his question. Your pretty smile makes Seokmin feel like he is floating over the ground as he stands beside you. He had only met you, but when the wind blows through your hair, causing a piece of it to move across your cheek, he can’t help but feel the urge to reach up and push it behind your ear. Instead, he keeps his hands to himself and simply smiles at you, waiting for your answer. 

“No, I’m not allergic; I love dogs. Wait, are we going to a dog cafe? Oh my god, Seokmin! I haven’t been to a dog cafe in like... years.” 

Your sudden excitement makes Seokmin’s chest tighten; he has to will his feet to move once again, so you will follow him to his car. He simply laughs softly, pulling open the passenger side door for you and letting you slip into the seat before he winks at you sweetly. 

“Guess you will just have to wait and see.” 

No amount of prodding would get Seokmin to reveal his secrets. You had to commend him for that. By the time he pulled his car into the small parking lot, you felt almost completely at ease in his presence despite the short amount of time you had spent with him. The conversation had come easy, and his smile was intoxicating and infectious. You could see why Seungcheol had chosen him as a friend and as a date for you. 

Leaning forward to look at the sign, you squeal softly, making Seokmin grin into a small, subdued laugh. He couldn’t help but be enamored by you already. The two of you had only discussed the basics, jobs, and brief family things, but the way you spoke to him made him want to be close to you. It was like you were water, and he had been wandering for days looking for you. 

“I didn’t even know they had a dog cafe on this side of town. I guess I don’t get over here often. Oh my god, Seokmin... Look at that baby. I want to hug them.” 

Seokmin follows your gestured hand to a small lab-looking dog lying in a chair near a corner of a window. The dog had perked up the moment his car had pulled in. 

“That’s a beautiful dog. You have great taste, Y/N. We can go say hi, but let’s get something to eat first.” 

You knew those were the general rules for these sorts of cafes, but having him pull you back to reality was helpful. Joining Seokmin at the front of the car, you pull your sweater around yourself to guard your skin against the spring air, making him smile at you. His hand is closest to you, hovering near your back as he leans to open the door to the cafe with the other. 

“Thank you, sir.” 

Seokmin swallows slightly into a laugh at your words, letting you go in first before following you. Glancing up at the signs, he can’t help but smile at the pictures of the dogs, finding the one you had found in the chair. 

“Y/N, there is your buddy. Looks like her name is Riley. Come on…” 

You whisper the name Riley, a tiny excited sound under your breath, moving to follow Seokmin into the somewhat crowded cafe section of the building. It's only when someone pushes past you, muttering a quick apology, that you find your hands wrapped around his forearm to keep you close to him. 

“Sorry…” 

Your quiet word causes Seokmin to glance down at you, a smile on his face as he shakes his head, leaning towards you briefly to speak before leading you towards the counter. “It’s okay; I really don’t mind.” 

Your cheeks burn lightly, but you keep your hand where it is, enjoying the warm feeling of his arm under your touch. It had been so long since you had felt this giddy, almost schoolgirl crush feeling that caused your brain to go fuzzy when you looked at Seokmin. 

Glancing over the bakery and drink options, Seokmin purses his lips, nodding to the boy behind the counter before looking back at you, only to find you still looking at him. A small laugh slips from the man’s lips, only to be bitten back when his teeth catch his bottom lip, so he can calm himself before speaking. He found himself so nervous and excited about getting your attention; feeling your fingers lightly picking at the material of his sweater only made it harder for him to focus. 

“Do you see anything you like?” 

That was a question laced with double meaning—if you had ever heard one, whether or not Seokmin had meant it that way or not. You can’t help but smile, glancing away with a smile and clearing your throat to look at the menu. 

“Uh, so much, honestly. Could I get a mocha latte? Oh, these chocolate muffins look good, but I couldn’t finish that by myself.” 

Seokmin’s face felt like he was going to overheat at your words about seeing so much that you liked. He had said it before; he had considered the possible double meaning, but your answer had really knocked him back. It’s only when you mention something you want and are unable to finish it alone that Seokmin is brought back to the present. 

“Then we can share it, and I’ll get an iced Americano.” 

Sliding into a seat, you watch Seokmin lean his shoulder against the wall, his tall frame drawing your eye from his head to his toes, causing you to let out a small sigh until he moves, hearing his name called for the order that was placed. A shy smile takes over your lips, drawing your eyes away from him to allow yourself a steady breath. You hadn’t been sure how you’d feel about dating, especially in this sort of scenario, but so far, you weren’t complaining. 

“One mocha latte, which smells delicious, by the way, and our chocolate muffin.” 

Seokmin’s words pull your gaze upward once again as he takes a seat across from you at the small table. His infectious smile spreads to your face as he leans to place his forearm on the table, picks up his drink, and takes a sip. 

“It does smell good. Is your Americano good?” 

Nodding, Seokmin tilts his head, looking at the drink as if he were appraising it. “It’s alright. I have friends who make better ones, but that isn’t really the draw of this place. I just hope you enjoy yours. I’m not sure even a cute dog could make up for a bad date.” 

Laughing, you bring your latte to your lips, take a sip, and let the warm drink slip down your throat, causing your chest and stomach to feel instantly just as warm as the cup in your grasp. 

“Mmm, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. The drink is good, but the date is going incredibly well so far, Seokmin. It’s not often that I can say that a cute guy took me on a date to see cute dogs for a date. Pretty unique.” 

Seokmin bites at his bottom lip, a quiet laugh barely audible, while his fingers peel at the liner wrapped around the muffin sitting between the two of you on the table. 

“There were a lot of compliments in that statement, Y/N. I would say I’m immune to flattery, but that’d be a lie. I have to be honest with you, though; I don’t know how I got this honor. From what I have learned about you so far, what Cheol told me, and as beautiful as you are.”

His voice trailing off, you find yourself unable to hold back your own laugh, knowing where he is going with the conversation. Shaking your head, you simply smile, taking a piece of the muffin when Seokmin offers it to you before speaking. 

“I’m not some great catch, Seokmin. We talked about work, which coincidentally is the reason my best friend is setting up blind dates for me. I don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression of me. I am looking for something… I don’t know what it is, but I’m tired of being lonely. They didn’t give us a handbook on how to be an adult, and if they did, I doubt they would have included ‘you are going to be lonely often’ inside of it.” 

Seokmin finds himself frowning slightly. He hated that you felt lonely. It wasn’t that he didn’t also share that feeling. He understood exactly where you were coming from. Friendships were great; they filled a void to a certain point, but they could only go so far. 

“No, you’re right. I doubt they’d even want that in the fine print, but I think you are selling yourself a bit short. The reasons that you seem to think that you aren’t a “great catch” make you who you are. They make you unique, and I’ll be honest, they make you one hell of a catch.” 

You weren’t even sure what to say. Instead, you just smile, taking another sip of your latte. Seokmin grins, breaking off a bite of the muffin to bring it to his lips and taking a bite of the chocolate as he watches you process his words. Both of you find yourselves sharing lowered glances and shy smiles for a moment until Seokmin finally breaks the tension, offering you a piece of the muffin. 

“It was a really good choice. It has chocolate chips, too, so it’s a bit rich. Sharing was smart.” 

Taking the piece of muffin from his fingers, you bite at your cheek when your skin brushes over his, causing electricity to pass between the two of you once again. 

“Thank you. I have my moments. Be sure to pass that along to our dear friend Cheol. I think he thinks I’m an idiot.” 

Seokmin grins before shaking his head. You watch him bring his fingers to his lips to suck a bit of melted chocolate from the tips of them. Furrowing your brows, you can’t help the way it causes you to swallow hard and stare even as he speaks. 

“You know?” 

Raising a brow, you shake your head and watch Seokmin smile at you, his head tilting almost like a curious puppy because you clearly weren’t listening to what he had said. 

“I’m so sorry. What did you say, Seokmin?” 

Biting the center of his bottom lip, Seokmin lets the skin drag through his teeth, an amused look on his face, before he leans back in his chair. Seokmin’s eyes take you in a bit more as he takes in a deep breath, speaking once again. 

“Oh, I was just saying... Seungcheol has nothing but nice things to say about you. He would never call you an idiot. Where did that pretty little mind go before, Y/N?” 

Your cheeks burn slightly at the question, causing you to laugh out of nerves. You pick up your cup, taking a sip of the drink, shrugging only to look toward where you could hear the sounds of barking in the distance. 

"Just, uh, you know, thinking about the dogs.” 

Seokmin’s head tilts in the other direction as if he knows you aren’t being truthful with him, but he isn’t going to press the subject. Instead, he smiles at you softly and nods, leaning to collect the muffin wrapper and his empty cup. 

“Mm, then we should get you to them so you can meet Riley. If you are done with your drink?” 

Nodding, you stand to join him, letting him take your cup so he can put them in their proper place along with the trash. You are thankful for the brief moment so you can regain your senses, but it is short-lived when you feel his warm hand at the small of your back guiding you toward the area where you could go see the dogs. 

“Okay, so we can choose a locker and leave our sweaters and stuff here. They don’t want us to bring in any outside food. There are treats and stuff inside; otherwise, we can go in after we wash our hands.” 

You find yourself smiling at Seokmin as you watch him shed his sweater, bundling it into a locker, before he looks towards you, offering his hand for yours. 

“You come here a lot, don’t you, Seokmin?” 

A smile spreads across his features as he takes your sweater in his hands, folding it before adding it to the locker and closing it with a small click. 

“Uh, yeah. I know it might be lame, but I can’t have animals in my apartment, but I really like dogs. So this is the best way to kind of have the best of both worlds, you know?” 

Moving with him towards the sink, you smiled at Seokmin’s explanation. There was nothing lame about it. Offering him your hands, you let him put some liquid soap into your palms before putting them under the warm water, taking turns washing your hands. 

“I think it’s sweet and the farthest thing from lame. It’s a good way to see the dogs; I mean, all of them are up for adoption, so you are doing something so good for these dogs by visiting. They are getting to meet someone so kind who is teaching them how to find a human. I love that so much.” 

Taking the paper towel from him, you smile at Seokmin as he looks down at you shyly. His stature is still so tall but so gentle, making you feel safe. 

“I really thought you might think this was the worst date you had ever been on." 

When you laugh, Seokmin can’t help but smile even brighter, letting you take his hand and pulling him towards the door so the two of you can finally make your way into the room. 

“Well, you thought wrong. This is already one of the best dates I have ever had the pleasure to be on.” 

You don’t have much time to glance around the space once the doors are shut behind you before you feel paws on your legs, drawing your attention down. Seokmin watches, feeling your hand drop from his as you lean down to coo at a small, older dog who had jumped up on your legs. 

With gray on his face and along his back, you find yourself surprised that this was the first dog up to greet you. Turning the dog's collar, you read the name Bailey on the tag as you scratch softly behind his ears, glancing up to look at Seokmin. 

“His name is Bailey. Oh my god, I love him. Come say hi." 

Seokmin grins, his head shaking at how quickly he is falling for you. You had his chest feeling tight and warm. His heart was beating so quickly as he watched you lean your face down to allow this dog to lick at the tip of your nose. 

“He likes you.” 

Your bottom lip got caught between your teeth as you laughed. You pat Bailey’s side before the dog decides to waddle over to Seokmin to get attention from the larger man. 

“And you.” 

With his fingers running through Bailey’s soft fur, Seokmin meets your eyes, only to feel his heart pick up in speed once again at how you are looking at him. He would give anything to have you look at him like that every day, possibly for the rest of his life. There was warmth in your eyes. It was as if he could picture the next 10 years with you in a single second and not even feel guilty about it. 

Clearing his throat, Seokmin smiles as he watches Bailey run off to another person making their way into the room before he offers his hand to you as he stands. 

“Let’s go find Riley, huh?” 

You laugh quietly and nod, allowing the handsome man to lead you through the room until you find who you had been most excited about seeing. The small lab-mix dog perks up when you move into the room where she is lying. Her tail wags quickly, though she doesn’t make any quick movements. 

“Riley, hi, baby. You are so pretty… Oh, my god.” 

Hearing you speak to her, the dog lifts her head and tilts it, much like you had watched Seokmin do while eating the muffin not an hour before. You laugh, moving to sit in front of the chair she had chosen, allowing her to climb down as she curiously looks from you to Seokmin before deciding she wants to lay down between the two of you, laying her head down in your lap and her body across his legs. 

“Wow…I–I didn’t expect that.” 

You shake your head at Seokmin’s words, your hand running over the dog’s head and face softly as she closes her eyes, quietly breathing against your leg. You find yourself feeling a bit sad that she isn’t your dog, causing Seokmin to notice your frown. 

“Y/N, you okay?” 

Seokmin watches you glance up at him, a smile quickly replacing your frown as you try to come up with words. His hand slid along Riley’s side to take your hand, holding your fingers and comforting you. 

“Oh yeah… I just have never had a dog act like this with me before.” You laugh and gesture with your free hand toward her and him. “Or a guy, honestly.” 

Seokmin smiles gently, his thumb caressing your palm as Riley takes in a breath shift to get more comfortable as she drifts off in your lab. 

“I can’t speak to the dog, but as for the guy, it's how you should be treated. I’m not doing anything special. I’m just being myself. I just–fuck…I like you so…you know.” 

You laugh quietly, your finger running along the ridge of Riley’s nose as you look down from Seokmin’s eyes, shyly making him use his free hand to lift your chin carefully. 

“We can come back and visit Riley. If you like her this much... and your apartment allows dogs, then maybe…” 

Seokmin trails off his question, but you nod in understanding, finding yourself afraid that she will be adopted before you can make your way back. You didn’t want to rush any decisions, which included Seokmin, even though you also found yourself having to admit that you liked him very much. 

“Yeah, maybe, but I would like to come back and visit.” 

With his thumb running along your jaw, Seokmin nods. You watch a small smile cross his lips before his hand finally drops from your face, letting you have some of your personal space back, though he doesn’t want to stop touching you. 

“Anytime, that’s if you want me to tag along.” 

It was your turn to smile, your brows furrowing at how shy Seokmin in front of you seemed to get when he tried to be subtle in asking you out again. 

“I’d really like that, Seokmin.” 

Grinning, Seokmin drops his eyes towards Riley, though your eyes stay on him and the way he seems to try to collect himself at your response. Biting your lip, you reach out to tilt his chin back up this time. Your thumb slides along his jaw as Seokmin watches you with warm, curious eyes before you lean in to gently press your lips against his. 

His breath hitching in his throat, Seokmin’s eyes close as his fingers find your wrist even as you pull away, making it clear it was just a simple chaste kiss. He wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve it, but it made him want another. You watch his Adam's apple rise and fall with a hard swallow before Seokmin laughs under his breath, finally opening his eyes to search for yours as he speaks. 

“You have a way of surprising a guy. What did I do to deserve that?” 

Smiling at his words, you relish in the feeling of his thumb rubbing in a gentle circle against the inside of your wrist as the man in front of you looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. 

“Everything and nothing. This has been a wonderful date, Seokmin. I don’t want it to end.” 

Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, Seokmin considers your words carefully before nodding. You watch his tongue gently swipe over his lips before the feeling of Riley shifting on your lap causes you to look away from Seokmin and towards the dog as she moves to lay on the floor. 

“Maybe…if you want—I mean, since you don’t want the date to end, it doesn’t have to?” 

Running your fingers over Riley’s head, you laugh at Seokmin’s words and how he talks in a circle to get to his point before looking back at him and seeing the hopeful look on his face. When you nod, his smile causes your chest to tighten. Seokmin’s smile only seems to brighten as he shifts to his knees and then his feet before he offers you his hands to help you to your feet beside him. 

Soft whispered goodbyes and promises to visit again are made to Riley before you and Seokmin make your way back to the lockers to collect your belongings and find yourselves back in his car, heading towards his apartment. Seokmin’s fingers dance along the gearshift as his eyes move from the road to your hand resting on your lap until you smile into a gentle laugh, reaching to take his hand for yourself, causing him to let out a soft, relieved sound. 

“You don’t have to be so careful with me, Seokmin. If I don’t like something, I’ll let you know. But you can hold my hand…I think it’s clear that I like you. I mean, I like you a lot.” 

Feeling his cheeks heating up at your words, Seokmin tightens his grip on your hand, glancing over at you before looking back at the road, trying to make sure he kept you both safe. Either you had no idea what effect you had on him or you were so aware that you were seeing how he would react. Seokmin’s mind was spinning already. 

"God, I like you a lot too. Like a lot. You are gorgeous, funny, and smart. I was a goner the moment I met you.” 

A hopeless romantic. If you had to describe Lee Seokmin, those are the words you would use for him already. He made your stomach erupt with butterflies and your heart beat faster with just his words. He wasn’t the only goner. Smiling, you press your lips together to stop yourself from smiling too much as he pulls his car into a parking spot, taking his hand from you to put the car into park. 

Shyly meeting your eyes, Seokmin laughs the moment you tilt your head at him. Your pretty smile catches him off guard as you sense his apprehension. Seokmin watches as you lift your hand, quirking your index finger back towards you in a come hither motion. You can’t help but laugh softly as he lets out another breathless laugh, leaning towards you to meet you halfway over the center console. He only falls silent when your lips once again find his in a gentle kiss that erases his nerves. 

With your fingers sliding along his jaw, you smile against Seokmin’s lips, pulling away only enough to speak against them, feeling him chase you ever so slightly. 

“Might not mean much right now, but it’s just me. You talked me up a lot but I’m just me… Are you gonna take me to your apartment, or are we just going to make out in your car like a couple of teenagers?” 

You feel Seokmin’s lips pull up slightly against your lips as you press a soft kiss on them once again. A quiet hum of appreciation slips from between them before he furrows his brows and forces himself to pull away from you. 

“Trust me…  You are tempting me to get into the back seat, and I haven’t done that in years. But yes, let me get you upstairs. Get you something to drink and sit somewhere comfortable.” 

Laughing under your breath, you watch Seokmin turn off the car and slide from the driver's seat before making his way around to you, opening your door, and offering you his hand. Sliding your fingers between his, you watch out of the corner of your eyes as a smile once again pulls up at his lips as he tightens his grip on your hand, walking beside you into the building and up the stairs. 

Opening the door, Seokmin takes a step to the side, letting you move inside first as he reaches to turn on the lights, allowing you to look around. He watches as your smile widens, your feet carrying you through the hallway to the living room, where you were already looking at pictures on the wall. 

“Make yourself at home. You want that drink? I have soda, water, or beer…wine?” 

Hearing the soft laugh in his voice, you can’t help but smile as you turn back towards Seokmin after looking at a few of the pictures of Seokmin and his family and friends. He looked happy and loved. Weighing your options, you purse your lips and tilt your head before finding your way to his sofa, sitting down with a small audible breath before answering. 

“A beer sounds nice, actually.” 

Grinning, Seokmin nods, turning on his heels towards his kitchen and pointing with his left hand to signify where he was going. 

“One beer coming up.” 

When you laugh at his antics, Seokmin can’t help but feel his heart beat a bit quicker as he grabs two beers from his fridge. Taking a steady breath, he mutters to himself to chill before returning to the living room and offering you the beer once he’s removed the top. 

Letting your fingers slide over his purposefully, you smile as you bring the beer to your lips, tilting it back to take a sip as Seokmin finally takes a seat near you. You can’t help but let your smile morph into a bit of a smirk when you notice he hadn’t sat as close as you had wanted, his nerves once again getting the better of him. 

Clearing his throat, Seokmin takes a long drink of his own beer before placing the bottle on the coffee table and glancing down at his hands as if searching for something to say. Opening and closing his mouth twice, you watch the man smile before shaking his head and finally looking up at you with an embarrassed look on his face. 

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve had someone back at my place. I promise I am not usually this awkward—okay, that’s a lie, but I’m less awkward once you get to know me. I’m just scared to screw this up.” 

Laughing against the lip of the beer bottle, you take one more sip before placing your bottle on the table with Seokmin’s. His eyes fixed on you. You watch his lips press together before once again lifting into a smile when you slide closer to him, reaching for his hand once again, breaking the awkward tension. 

“I told you, I’m just me. We were doing so well in the car. Hell, you said you even wanted to get in the back seat. You don’t want that any more? Did the walk upstairs get rid of all the teenage whimsy?” 

Seokmin laughs and shakes his head at your words. You watch his brows lift as he takes a deep breath, shifting on the sofa, his fingers sliding along your palm. 

“No, not at all. I just—” 

“Don’t wanna screw up?” 

Laughing again, Seokmin meets your eyes as you finish his sentence. He watches as you once again move on the sofa, testing the waters in your own way as you lift your free hand to brush it against his jaw. You normally didn’t move quickly with dates, but you weren’t willing to end this one without just a taste. 

Leaning into your touch, Seokmin tries to stifle the groan that rises in his throat when your nails run down the side of his neck, but you smile, letting him know you still heard it. Letting go of his hand, you shift once again on the sofa, moving to your knees next to Seokmin so that your lips can brush against his with ease. 

Seokmin’s hand hovers over your hip, his fingers flexing as he has a mental battle with himself about whether or not it would be okay to touch you as he meets your lips halfway. But when you whine against his lips, Seokmin’s brows furrow and he can’t help himself anymore. Fingers hold tightly over your clothes, pulling you towards him as the kiss deepens with need. 

Parting your lips for Seokmin’s tongue to glide along yours, you find yourself quickly giving into your urges with him. Sliding your leg over his, you sit in his lap, granting yourself a groan from Seokmin’s chest. He was trying hard not to let himself get too aroused, but the feeling of your warmth sliding over his was making it impossible. 

“Fuck—” 

The single word slipping from Seokmin’s lips against yours as you roll your hips down over his causes you to grip his shoulders a bit tighter. You weren’t sure how far you wanted to go with him, but it felt too good to just stop here. Resting your forehead against Seokmin's, you moan his name softly, causing him to buck his hips upwards ever so slightly. 

“Y/N…If you keep grinding on me like that, baby, you sound so pretty.” 

You weren’t even sure if Seokmin had realized he had called you “baby”, but you couldn’t help but smile at the pet name. You could feel his cock getting harder under you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not unless he wanted you to. 

“Mm, you feel good, Seokmin. Do you want me to stop?” 

Slowing your movement, you hear Seokmin whine almost in pain, his hands sliding along your sides to your hips to push you back down over his erection. It was clear you both wanted more. 

"Please, God, don’t stop. Can I—just wanna feel?” 

Leaning back, you glance down to watch Seokmin’s fingers move over the clasp of your jeans and then your zipper. Letting you lift your hips once again, Seokmin helps you wiggle out of the denim before you settle back on his lap, and his fingers slide along your bare legs. His eyes move over your face, lips parted softly, only to pull up into a smile when you let out a moan of his name as you roll your hips down over his jeans. 

“Do you wanna—mmm, oh my god, Seokmin?" 

Starting to ask if he wanted to take off his pants too, you find yourself unable to finish the sentence when Seokmin has other ideas. His fingers were sliding to the center of your legs over your panties, which were now sticking to your wet pussy. 

“This is what I want tonight. Is that okay? God, baby, you are so wet. Gonna get my jeans all messy.” 

Leaning forward once again, you rest your forehead against Seokmin's, hearing his soft groan as you moan. With each roll of your hips towards his, you could feel Seokmin’s fingers brushing your clit though your panties, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. 

Your fingers tightly gripping at his shoulders, you feel his shirt bunching under your fingers as Seokmin smiles into another groan, feeling you grind down over his cock once again. He felt like he was going crazy. He wanted inside of you so badly, and yet this was more than enough for right now. The fucked out look on your face, the moans falling out of your mouth laced with his name? Seokmin was on cloud nine as his cock leaked obscenely in his boxers. 

“Fuck, Y/N…want you to cum for me.” 

The gentle and shy man was gone, and in his place was someone almost perfect. You loved how gentle Seokmin was and how he had been talking to you before, but now he was asking you to cum for him? 

Your cheeks heating up. You smile at his words, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. You feel Seokmin’s fingers slide your panties to the side before his thumb and index finger roll around your clit, causing your back to arch. 

Seokmin groans deep in his throat, his free hand holding tightly to your side to keep you safely on his lap as his other hand works over your clit and folds sending you over the edge. His eyes stay fixed on your face, his lips parting ever so slightly as you fall apart for him. Seokmin feels the warm, wet slick of your cum on his fingers and through your panties against it begins to soak through his jeans. 

Another groan draws your attention. This one is not as deep as the last; instead, there is more breath and urgency to it. Your eyes find Seokmin’s face as his hips lift towards your warm, wet core, his hands pulling your hips down over him. You watch as a look of bliss spreads over his face before he closes his eyes and wrinkles his nose, shaking his head. 

Smiling, you reach up to run your fingers along Seokmin’s cheek and down his neck, realizing what had happened. A look of slight embarrassment registers on the man’s face as he opens one eye, looking up at you to find you looking at him in awe. 

“That was so fucking sexy, Seokmin. Oh my god…” 

Biting at his lips, Seokmin quirks a brow at you, his fingers running along your thighs, trying to figure out if you are making fun of him. When it’s clear you aren't, you watch a smile spread along his lips before a laugh escapes his lips. Lifting a hand to his face, Seokmin pushes his hair from his forehead and sighs. 

“Yeah? Well, I haven’t done that since I was a teenager, so how is that for teenage whimsy? I feel gross as hell, though, not even gonna lie.” 

Laughing, you lean to kiss Seokmin, feeling him smile against your lips. His hands slide along your sides, and you back down until you slide from his lap and start to reach for your jeans, causing him to frown. 

“Leaving?” 

You glance back up to see Seokmin’s brows furrowed deeply, a look of concern on his face. Smiling softly, you shake your head and bite at your lips. 

“Well, no…  I mean, you said you felt gross. I thought you might want a shower.” 

Reaching for you, Seokmin pulls you back into his arms and sighs against your temple as you settle against his side. 

“Yeah, in a few minutes. You can take one too before I take you home, or at least wash off or something. I know you can’t feel comfortable. But there is no need for us to rush off, unless you want to. I enjoyed this.” 

Your cheeks once again feel like you are standing too close to an oven. You find yourself smiling and nuzzling against Seokmin’s chest as he grins, feeling how warm your face has become. 

“I’m not in a rush. I enjoyed it too. I told…  I really like you, Seokmin.” 

Leaning his head back against the sofa, Seokmin grins at your words, looking up at the ceiling, feeling like he had won the lottery. He knew he wasn’t the only date you were going to go on, but he felt like his chances were pretty good. 

“Mm, and I like you. Now, tell me about Cheol as a teenager.” 

Seokmin grins as you snort into a laugh at the question. He could get used to that sound and the feeling of you in his arms. He knew it wasn’t up to him, but he was going to enjoy tonight for as long as he could stretch it out. 

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[dreamcsc]

left or right? fuck that, go up! ❧ seokmin

this is my last post of 2024 so i just wanna say, thank you guys for all the love and support you’ve show this blog over this month. i’m so grateful that i am privileged to be able to share my passion and something that is a part of me. as much as i say i love writing, i always find myself questioning my love for it because i truly believe that i suck. but at the end of the day, i always come back to my first love. i just want to encourage every one that, it’s okay to question your love for your passion. it’s a part of growth in your craft. but always, always, put your mental and physical health first. in order to be good at your craft, you must live well enough to be able to do it.

once again, not beta read. merry belated christmas / holiday to those with a heavy heart and feels stuck in life. take that breath, baby. slow down, you will be fine.

you never really put a label on anything, more of a realistic and raw kind of person, and leaving things as they were. this means that calling lee seokmin way past midnight sounded a stretch in your friendship—but seokmin always seem to be different than you expected.

because the moment he heard his phone ring exactly at one in the morning and the caller ID showed a picture he secretly took of you with one of the prettiest smile, he came running to you.

“seokmin, are you here yet?” you find yourself calling out through the phone, tears threatening to fall.

you had been stuck in your apartment, cooped up at your tiny table in your bedroom. your appearance is not presentable, you were aware of that. writer’s block had always been this bad for, had your head aching, and your expectations diminished. it took exactly an hour to write the starting sentence in the second book of your series. still, you find yourself nitpicking at the little wording of it.

seokmin’s voice responds with panting, “yes, i’m here. i’ll welcome myself in, don’t worry about getting me.” he reassures you without you needing to point out your insufficiency.

the call is cut after you gave your thanks and you lowered your head in exhaustion. questions of if writing was this difficult for you, ‘why did you even try’ comes rushing to you like storms. if writing the first part of your story is taking this much toll on you? why even try anymore?

however, it was like heaven-sent when, “oh, baby,” rings throughout your apartment. it was seokmin’s angelic voice, and in matter of seconds, you are being gently pulled into a soft embrace, and you almost melted. almost.

“how long have you been at it, love?” seokmin asks you while patting out your hair. you respond with a sigh, “more than i need to be.” you unwillingly admitted.

seokmin frowns deeply, “no breaks yet?” you nod your head, ashamed and hoping you won’t get scolded by him. it was clear you were at your last straw—one more trigger and you’ll actually jump of a cliff.

but the scoldings never came. instead, “was it difficult for you?” you hear seokmin’s angelic voice ask again. the tears are now wanting to fall once again, but you didn’t dare let them.

“you must have been struggling a lot. haven’t you? i know it all, my love. i know it all, it’s okay.” and there goes the wall you’ve built around yourself. they fell like water, flowing like storms yet so still. seokmin’s hands tightly wraps around you as words start spilling without your permission.

“i’m scared, seokmin. i’m scared that i’ll lose my passion for writing if i can’t get such small thing right. i’m scared i’ll be proving others and my parents right—that this job of mine is not worth the risk. i’m—i’m afraid i’ll be proving myself wrong. i feel like i’m forced to choose a side, and i don’t want that. it feels like i’m running an endless race if i don’t pick any sides—my passion or the expectations. i don’t know what to do anymore. i need answers. i need solutions! i don’t know what to do with myself!”

seokmin hums in acknowledgment, his hug still tight as ever. it was like he didn’t want to let go of you, didn’t want you to let go of yourself.

“my love, shh. please, slow down, breathe. take a deep breathe for me, yeah?” seokmin reassures you.

“even if you feel like you’re in an endless race, maybe, just maybe. not running can be an answer you need. running itself is tiring enough. and so what if you stop running for a while just to take a breath? it means that you’re still alive, breathing. and even if you’re stumped at which direction to head, the sky is an answer too.”

though the words seokmin says to you are serious, you couldn’t help but bitterly chuckle. “i can’t fly, seokmin. i can’t reach the stars just for this little passion of mine.”

seokmin shakes his head in disapproval and gently places his palms on the side of your cheeks, staring deeply into your eyes. a smile grace over his lips as he speaks.

“you already have the stars in your eyes, hand-picked from the sky.”

likes / reblogs / comments are appreciated.

[blue-jisungs]

ballroom extravaganza

author's note. my dudes ir might be my fav banner i’ve ever did!!

summary. he’s one step closer to you on the ballroom extravaganza

word count. 1563

warnings, genre. royal/medieval-ish vibes? kinda angsty if u look at it :) ;; lower class!dk, royal-ish!y/n, alcohol consumption

the room was beautifully decorated. good ornaments everywhere: candlesticks, long curtains falling onto the wooden floor like waterfalls, the chandeliers. the railings and cornices on the ceiling shone with a goldish glint too; even the champagne in his glass reflected with it.

seokmin examined the dresses and suits of people surrounding him, all of them wearing the most exquisite and elegant clothing. after all such a ball was an opportunity to shine. he wasn’t any different – black smoking adorning his body, the brown hair on his head styled with gel.

nevertheless, he felt uneasy; he knew he didn’t belong here. no matter the clothes he was wearing or if his hairstyle was fashionable, it was all a cover. seokmin’s heart pounded with anxiety that eventually someone will discover that he’s a simple man from the lower class.

the champagne turned bitter in his mouth as he tried to drink his thoughts away. the taste of such exclusive alcohol made him realize it’s probably the first and last time he’s drinking it.

then he came to a conclusion that he’d rather be tonight.

seokmin made up his mind (rather seungkwan, his younger assistant, knocked some sense into his head… quite literally, with his fists) and decided to confess to you.

because truth be told, he knew you two wouldn’t form a relationship even in his wildest dreams. seokmin was a very regular lower class teacher from the countryside and you; oh, you. you were the daughter of a rich landlord who held an important role in the local government.

the sudden realization hit him like gust of cold wind and yet again he felt strange in this place, where everything was huge, expensive and out of his world.

seokmin felt grateful he could even look at it or at you.

he met you through jihoon, a musical genius who once was passing by seokmin’s village and heard him singing. that’s when they met – jihoon was amazed by his voice and singing abilities, nagging him to train. he offered to do it for free at the beginning since he knew that seokmin can barely afford new shoes.

soon enough jihoon took his pupil to his musical studio in the capital. pianos, guitars, flutes… even a harp! it all made seokmin speechless. but it didn’t leave him as half as flattered in comparison with your meeting.

the delicate sound of the harp filled the room, seokmin holding his breath. he watched mesmerised how one of jihoon’s students moved his fingers and ever-so-gently nudged the strings.

jihoon’s brows were knitted as he nodded, listening carefully. as a teacher, he was terrifying. as a private person… he was scary. but despite the cold mask, seokmin saw through him and noticed a pure, gold heart. he got here somehow in the first place, no?

suddenly, there was a sound of door slamming open which halted the peaceful atmosphere. jihoon let out a sigh and looked up, seokmin’s gaze following his. then, he saw you.

your face was so beautiful that he genuinely thought like he was hallucinating. the e/c eyes sparkling with excitement and a huge smile painting on your lips, h/c hair flowing elegantly on your arms. your dress was pretty too; even from the first glance anyone could tell you’re rich. the pinks and whites contrasting together, creating a princess aura–

“jihoonah, you bastard! why didn’t you tell me you’re back in town, you little rodent?!” you whined and seokmin’s eyes widened in shock. well, he didn’t expect - and met, so far - any girl behaving like that here.

jihoon stood up and walked up to you, placing a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“ugh, can you not? we’ve talked about this before” you whined and the man just giggled.

“y/n, this is seokmin. seokmin, this is miss y/n. normally, she isn’t behaving like a spoiled brat but apparently she only does around me. now… joshua, did i tell you to stop playing?” the last question cut through air like a sharp knife. joshua, jihoon's student, quickly returned to play the harp. seokmin used this moment to steal a few more glances at you, visibly whipped.

“hello” you said shyly, realizing just now that jihoon isn’t alone. seokmin stands up and bows gently.

“it’s my pleasure to meet you” he grinned and it was so contagious that you couldn’t help but smile too.

“now, seokmin. remember when i said there’s a purpose for your presence here? you’ll be y/n’s new singing teacher. i will leave because of the upcoming opera in paris and miss y/n has to have a teacher. even though you’re not that professional, you do have a natural talent” jihoon announced, your eyes widening in shock.

“you’re… leaving?” you asked.

“me… a teacher?” seokmin muttered, flabbergasted.

suddenly the crowd had come to a halt, his eyes meeting yours across the ballroom. he smiled and you excused the person who was talking to you, approaching him.

looking beautiful, as always, his heart sped up. the puffy beige dress was elegant yet nothing too fancy to make you stand out. however, seokmin thought that you were the prettiest here; looking like royalty.

“min!” you grinned and bowed gently. all words and thoughts unexpectedly disappeared from his brain, vanishing into thin air.

“y/n… miss y/n” he stuttered out, palms staring to her sweaty. you sent him a reassuring smile.

“you must feel so… overwhelmed. you look nervous. and handsome too, by the way. let’s get some air, teacher” you put your hands together; even your posture being graceful as if you were a carved marble statue.

“no, no. i’m fine. i wanted to talk to you about one concern that… has been on my mind” seokmin finally managed to word out something. your brows furrowed ever so gently and you nodded.

“i see. i, too, have an announcement to share” a quiet mumble left your lips, almost getting lost in the rustle of the room.

now it was his turn to frown. you seemed rather upset.

“go first, please” you gestured with your head. he saw jihoon coming towards you.

“let’s go to the dance floor, i see a predator approaching” you giggled and before jihoon (the predator in question) could open his mouth, you snatched seokmin’s hand and landed in the middle of the dance floor.

“i shouldn’t… dance with you. what will people say?” he mumbled, putting his hand on your hip gently as if we was afraid that he’ll hurt you.

“i couldn’t care less, min. we’re friends. what was it you wanted to say?” you asked, looking at him through your eyelashes. he took a deep breath, hoping you didn’t feel how clammy his hands got.

“y/n, i think… no, i’m certain. i’m certain that i like you more than a friend” seokmin answered. if you were surprised, you didn’t let it show.

just swaying to the rhythm of music (that was slowly building up), you let the words sink in your mind. then he noticed your gaze wandering around the room, stopping upon a certain point.

“i- i know we wouldn’t work out but i just- i’ve been mesmerized by you ever since you bursted into jihoon’s classroom door and i can’t… can’t stop thinking about you” he breathed out, trying to save the situation.

the music tempo sped up a bit, you looked him in the eye.

“seokmin, you’re a really cute guy. perfect, if you think about it. caring, loves to work with kids, patient. and… it’s not- it’s not even about you being from the countryside” you smiled softly and when the music came to a climax, making the pairs come to a halt – and so did his heart too upon hearing your next words “jihoon proposed to me”

the world stopped. seokmin felt his smile disappear, air flowing out of his lungs. ringing in his ears got as annoying as a mosquito buzzing around his ear.

“he got filthy rich after the opera display in paris. my dad forced me to agree so… we’ll announce it today, hence the ball. and then…” you gulped, fingers drumming against his arms.

“then what?” he choked out. his heart just got crashed into millions of pieces that he will never be able to put together.

“then we’ll get married in paris and stay there. jihoon signed a contract with the theatre” you added quietly. staring at you, seokmin felt weak.

you know all the words to the play

but alliI wanted was you to stay

your time is running thin

'cause i'm falling through the cracks under your floor

“seokmin, i’m sorry but… i can’t say no” you said, voice cracking. it was getting hard to breathe but he managed to pull the best smile he coulf.

“i understand. you’re a part of me… now you’ll just be apart from me. but… it’s fine. good luck in the new chapter of your life” he hummed, heart aching so painfully he thought he’s dying.

he let you go, stepping aside.

you're one step closer to me

on the ballroom extravaganza

i know you won't find me anymore

i triеd to reach for you once more

seokmin walked away, deciding to leave the room. he only heard jihoon walking up to you. feeling your gaze burning through his back, he made a mental promise to not turn back.

but thе world came crashing to the ground.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu