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cigaretteparfum-library · 2 years ago

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I Isekai’d Myself From the Afterlife Before the Angels Had the Chance to Assign Me Heaven or Hell and Now I’m On the Run with Hot Guys in Another Dimension Because ACAB Also Includes Heaven Lapdogs

Yes, that is the title.

Genre: Isekai fantasy Rating: M(18+) Pairing: Fem!Reader/EXO Content: Isekai tropes, Fem protagonist, angels, mentions of various religious beliefs, nudity (not explicit), stupid jokes and scenarios probably only I find funny (thowwy), pretty excessive use of the word mid, Yixing and Kyungsoo got introduced in the last third, slightly inaccurate title because technically she already got assigned a place but whatever Word count: 5k

Taglist: @eternalnostos - once upon a time you said you wanted to read something I write should I eventually publish it .... Probably not what you asked for but hey. :>

01.

You were born exactly nine thousand and a hundred thirty days, twenty-three hours, and fifty-seven minutes ago—and during all those times, you have barely achieved anything remarkable.

Despite all of your best efforts, people barely spare a glance to look at you. You were such a docile child that your own parents often forgot you existed; far too occupied by your more rebellious sister only an hour older. Your grades in school were okay: always a few decimals above the minimum score to pass; maybe exactly one point if you were particularly lucky. All the clubs you tried to join during those years were either inactive, got disbanded soon, or required monthly administration fees way above your allowance. You had a few friends in elementary school, in junior high, and then high school—but none so close that you managed to stay in touch past graduation. While most of your peers continued to university or college, you settled for a below minimum wage job at a minimarket chain. Money wasn’t exactly a problem, though, because your parents still financially supported you out of obligation and societal norms. You know them only as much as they know you—which is to say: not at all. But you know a little bit more about your sister who now makes over three times what you make by working in a bank, if only because she likes to boast and will literally not leave you alone.

But the gist of it is this: You are mid. You are so mid that the word mid itself would rather not have anything to do with you. You are fine; not good, not bad—just fine. And because of that, you have only been cruising through life, letting each day pass without doing much except fulfilling the bare minimum of what you’re supposed to do.

And that is why, precisely nine thousand and a hundred thirty days, twenty-three hours, and fifty-nine minutes after you were born, walking past a construction site where they were lifting a huge metal beam that falls right above your head and killing you may be the most remarkable thing that happen in your life—

You die on the morning of your twenty-fifth birthday, but you don’t even actually make it past the last minute of your twenty-fourth year.

In a blink of an eye, you’re transported elsewhere.

You stand in a long, singular line of people in the middle of pure white nothingness, among other people who look just as confused and disoriented as you. “What’s going on?” you hear someone ask before you get the chance to. “Where am I? Who are you people?!”

YOU ARE INSIDE THE SPACE OF ASSIGNMENT, a voice booms. It comes from everywhere: it comes from your sides, from your front and back, and also inside your head. Your mind recognises it as something otherworldly, perhaps even divine—but it fills you with dread and sends a chill down your spine. Whatever the source of this voice is, you don’t like it. ALL OF YOU STANDING HERE HAVE DIED. WAIT FOR YOUR DEEDS TO BE JUDGED—YOU WILL BE ASSIGNED A PLACE IN HEAVEN OR HELL.

“What the fuck—” another voice from somewhere in the queue shouts. “I’m an atheist! You’re telling me now that god and afterlife exist?”

THEY ALWAYS HAVE.

Someone else clears their throat. “Does this mean I have attained moksha?”

I CANNOT SAY.

“From what religion are you?”

I CANNOT SAY.

Amidst all of the chaos and shouting questions and confusion, you realise that you are now able to see something far ahead: some kind of a throne; or maybe a desk is more appropriate. A massive figure sitting behind it is bathed in bright light—no, the figure is the source of that bright light. You have to squint your eyes to see, but you think that figure has a dozen of folded wings on its back and several heads above what should be its torso, looking down at whatever poor bastard is standing before it. Once every few moments one of the wings touches something in front of it, and when that happens you move closer to where that being sits.

You look behind you and there seems to be a far longer line compared to what’s in front of you. People die like flies, you realise. But the judging process—or assignment, as the voice said—goes about on par with the speed of which people are dying and appearing. The dread in your stomach multiplies by tenfold when you notice that the desk and the looming figure behind it are even closer than before. While all the new people farther behind are shouting many variations of the questions you’ve heard only moments before, you look down, trying to plant your feet on the ground—it’s no use; you keep moving forward either way.

WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO FIGHT IT? the voice asks. You look up and there it is: the source of that voice.

It’s an angel; you’re sure of it now. Four feet standing apart—your height barely reaches the middle of its shin. You crane your head back and squint against the light emanating from this figure, somewhere around its head—heads, to be precise. Two hands on each side extending to create wings that hold one massive sword—pointed directly at you.

LET GO OF YOUR FIGHT. IT IS OF NO USE.

“But I—” Your frantic eyes dart to the start of the line up ahead. You are now maybe only forty people away from it. “I’m just some gal. I never do anything good or bad. How am I going to be judged?”

One person removed from the line. YOU ARE NEITHER THE FIRST NOR THE LAST TO BE NOTHING OF REMARK.

In other words, you’re just one mid among billions of mids that the angels have judged—assigned. You shut your eyes close. Another person removed.

YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT. YOU NEED NOT TO BE ANYTHING OF SIGNIFICANCE TO HAVE YOUR PLACE ASSIGNED.

Those are the same things you’ve told yourself over and over and over and over and over again in your life. When your parents asked what will you aim to achieve in life. When your sister asked if you ever dreamed to be something more—something less boring and mundane. You always said: It’s okay to not have high achievement. There’s no sin in being mid. The remarkable are few; the mids are majority of people.

How quick death changes things. What used to soothe your insecurity is now what threatens to fling you over the edge of panic. You don’t even know panic attacks are a thing that can happen in death. You don’t even know that you can experience panic attacks.

There is no relief in those words. Suddenly you realise how little you’ve made of your life. How little you’ve done. Your life flashes before your eyes as several dozen more people removed from the line: it’s nothing. From birth to death, you can’t recall any moments that make you particularly happy, sad, or angry; moments that make you feel ashamed or proud. There is only one thing—

Regret.

Suddenly you don’t want to die. Suddenly all of this becomes real: you’ve died, and there are only nine more people before it’s your turn to be judged. How did you even die? It wasn’t some grand defeat after battling an illness for a long time, like your grandfather; it wasn’t some tragedy born out of a heroic sacrifice, like your aunt—no; you died because you got unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and you didn’t look up. The construction workers probably didn’t even notice that you were there until you went splat.

No, no, no. No no no no no. You absolutely cannot go out like this. There are so many things you have yet to do! In fact, the list is so long that you may as well say there are still everything to do. You existed, but you haven’t lived—you’ve never lived. And you can’t even blame it on other people—you were far too content to be nothing remarkable. Now, that feeling of content morphs into a feeling of loss. Fear. Regret. An insurmountable weight of regret.

Two more people left before your turn. LET GO OF THE FIGHT, the voice warns you for the last time. THERE IS NOTHING ELSE THAT YOU CAN DO NOW.

No, there’s still something. There has to be.

The seven headed angel with a dozen wings and no limbs judges the deeds, and each time it makes its decision one of its wings touches what you now can see as a golden staff laid atop the desk. When that staff is touched, the person being judged disappears and the line moves forwards. An idea strikes. Maybe it’s some sort of a transportation device. Maybe, if you’re able to touch it ….

But how? The desk is as massive as three adults standing on top of each other, and eleven more standing in a row. Only a part of it peeks through the top edge of the surface—you can’t possibly jump that high.

Then you’ll have to climb.

You move forwards once again, and as the last person standing before you is being judged, you squint your eyes against the light, trying to find something to grasp and hook your feet on to climb. Just touch it. You just need to try to touch the staff; that is your last and only hope.

The other angel that spoke to you has moved back and you’re as good as non-existent to the angel doing the judging. The feet of the desk are intricately crafted depictions of people seemingly with eternal joy on the left and unending torment on the right, with each crafted body of a person about half of your height. Before you let your dying mind think and open the gates for the second-guesses to flood in, you dash out of line and start to climb.

“Hey, look at her!”

“Oi, what the fuck?!”

“Is that allowed?!”

As commotion begins to erupt and you feel a sudden heat coming from everywhere, engulfing your entire being, you grit your teeth and keep scaling the foot of the desk. You’ve never climbed before; never had to. But the fire lit inside your chest burns with only one thought:

I want to live.

A force tries to yank you away from the leg—must be the angel. You bite down, clamping your toes on the sculpture and your fingers clawed. The force grows stronger—it’s like being sucked by gravity right behind your back—but your will is even stronger than that. Who knew you had it in you? Then you hear the whoosh of something swinging before the pain of your back being slashed explode. You scream. You climb higher.

INSOLENT HUMAN—

I want to live.

HOW DARE YOU—

I want to live.

GET BACK IN LINE.

I want to LIVE.

You get to the top and all seven heads of the angel behind the desk turn towards you. For a moment the light dims enough for you to be able to see the entirety of its seven faces, and it’s all eyes staring directly at you.

And its voice, calm, a stark difference of the other angel huffing behind and above you, simply says:

YOU HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED HELL.

“Well, fuck you!”

You leap just before the gravity sucks you back, and for a split second, your fingers touch the staff.

You touched it.

The force that has been trying to keep you away from the staff—from the judging desk—flings you back, farther back, past the blurring faces of people staring in shock, and even farther back, until you pass the last person who has died during this moment, and you don’t stop.

There is a constant sound that fills your ears as you shoot backwards, and it’s only when your throat bleeds that you realise it has been the sound of you screaming. The heat that engulfed you has morphed into fire burning your hair—your clothes—your skin—until you feel nothing as it has burnt all of your nerves and now begins to consume your bones as well. But your consciousness remains, floating somewhere inside your skull, even as you are blinded in all of your senses. And there is only one thought:

I touched it.

There are noises.

There are a lot of noises.

And the smell—of something burnt, but also: the smell of dirt. The soft smell of dense trees you never noticed until the small forest near your house was cut down in favour of new houses. The pungent smell of insects. The smell of skin, iron, and sweat.

You blink your eyes open and it explodes. Something vibrates in your throat—your vocal chords, screaming. Your limbs flail as you scramble to shut your eyes; the bright light penetrates past your lid even after you close them, and it hurts. It hurts so bad after those moments of utter blindness when you—

When you flew.

There are more noises, some that you’ve heard before: voices of people; of men. They speak in a language you don’t understand, but their tones are frantic and—maybe—worried. Hands wrapped around your arms, around your shoulders; they try to pry your hands away from your eyes but you cry and you cry and you try to push them away—or push yourself away—but you can’t make right from left and you bump into something solid and warm.

You scream. You quiver. You realise you’re as naked as a newborn. You feel something soft wrapped around your body—a cloak. The voices soften and a hood is pulled above your head. Something flat and cylindrical pressed on your lips while steady hands flat on your back between your shoulder blades. That thing pressed on your lips is tilted gently and your head follows; cold, fresh water flows in.

At that point, keeping your eyes closed, your own hands grab the water container. You expected your palms to meet a bottle, but it’s instead flat and wide. It doesn’t matter—you snatch it away from the hand that previously held it and greedily gulp down its content until you choke and you cough, spitting a little bit of water—somewhere.

You gasp and you fold your body forwards, clutching your fist to your chest, you feel the rapid heartbeat inside. Under the shades of the hood you finally dare yourself to open your eyes, and you see your thick bare legs peeking out of the cloak—and the cracked, dry ground underneath them.

You pull your hands away from your body, staring at them in awe as you curl and uncurl your fingers on your palm, not even caring about the water container you just dropped and now spills water into the ground. One foreign hand reaches out over your legs you instinctively press together to avoid contact—but it’s only interested in retrieving the container. The voice that belongs to the body behind you speaks again, calmer now, with a gentle tone that has a hint of curiosity in it.

Turning your head around, you squint to look at that person. It is indeed a man: maybe a few years older than you, but not by much; strong brows, heart-shaped lips, and short hair. He speaks again, but you only shake your head.

“I can’t—” Your voice is hoarse and it sounds alien. “I don’t understand—”

The man speaks again—or maybe it’s a question, judging by his raised brows and higher tone at the end. You shake your head, and he gestures … something. “I don’t—”

The other man speaks. He’s still cloaked and his face is shrouded with shadows, but you’re able to catch a glimpse of a dimple on his cheek and pouty bottom lips. He doesn’t speak to you—not now—and the other man on your right responds.

Both of them rise and the cloakless man offers you his hand as he speaks gently. You tighten your grip on the front of his cloak wrapped around you before accepting his help. His grip is strong and steady, but not overpowering, as he pulls you up to stand. Your legs stagger for a moment, and both men have their arms stretched to keep you steady, but your feet manage to find their footing without you falling.

Birds chirp as they fly in a group way above your head in the sky and the wind rustles the leaves and the grass—or what’s left of them anyway.

As you look around, you realise that you are standing right in the centre of a massive crater where everything in it has died. Outside the perimeter trees stand and grass softly dances on the ground; it’s all green and lush—except the circle about as big as your city hall. Some dark, big logs lie on the ground, facing away from you; sticks cracking and splintering from them. Those were trees.

“Am I alive?” you hear yourself asking. “Is this hell?”

The men speak and they try to get your attention while your mind replays the last few moments that you remember: of your entire being slowly burning away, of the gravity pulling you away in that room of white nothingness, and that seven-headed angel telling you that you were going to hell. But how is this hell? Even the sculptures on that desk of judgement depicted torment as some representation of hell. This is … this is something else.

And then you remember: you touched the staff.

The staff. Maybe it worked. Maybe your spur-in-the-moment, entirely-bonkers-completely-out-of-pure-guess method worked. Maybe the staff was a teleportation device and when you touched it—

One of the men—the one still cloaked—shouts. Your head whips towards him, then back around when you notice him pointing at something behind you, and for a split second before the impact: you see the staff flying towards you.

“OW!” It thwacks squarely on your face with enough force you send you tumbling backwards. The men move quickly to help you up again just after they assisted you to stand—but then the cloaked man accidentally touches the staff and he hisses.

He hisses?

The cloakless man throws one side of your cloak to better hide your exposed legs after you fall, but you’re too busy trying to find that staff on the ground to spare a thought about decency at the moment. It’s laying a few metres away from you; rolling off after assaulting your face and maybe after the cloaked man accidentally hit it away. You scramble on all fours to quickly reach it and—there is no doubt. This is the staff.

You hold the length in your hands. It’s much smaller now, but you remember its head—the part that peeked through the edge. It was four handles curving away from the centre like a fountain with a flat top; the base engraved with inscription snaking up to where the four handles depart from the staff. As you run your fingers over the engraving, you somehow understand what it says: Behold the power bestowed by the grace of The One, for it accomplishes function as desired.

Below the engraving is thirteen rings that reflect lights with a rainbow effect to your eyes; the gold disappearing. It stops right in the middle of the staff where it turns into a smooth and naked surface, leading to its end where it mirrors the top with the four handles; only it has one right instead of thirteen.

Slowly, you stand. You cradle the staff in your arms like a baby, then you let your grip on its girth loose until its bottom touches the ground; a booming sensation shakes you to your core.

You look at the two men and they look just as startled as you.

Your legs are still a little bit too unsteady for you to walk, even if you have been able to stand upright. The staff is quite sturdy and balanced, and while its top, reaching up to your chest, is slightly too tall for you to walk and hold it by its four handles, you can wrap your hand around the part the inscription is engraved instead.

Just before you take your first step properly on your feet, you feel that chill of dread running through your body. The men all scream as they press their hands tight to their ears and you hear your name called by that voice you still remember from the space of nothing.

YOU HAVE BEEN FOUND.

The voice—as it was previously—comes from everywhere, but without even looking you know where the angel truly comes from. You turn your head to your left and there it floats on the sky: with its three heads, four winged hands, and four feet planted flat on air as though it’s standing on something solid. Your stomach churn—you are certain all of its eyes are fixed on you.

It calls your name again with that same booming voice echoing inside your head. YOU HAVE DIED, AND YOU SHALL REMAIN DEAD. GIVE UP THE FIGHT NOW OR YOU WILL REGRET IT SOON ENOUGH.

“RUN!” you shout to the men. “Go!” You limp past them. “Run away! GO!!”

But then the wind blows and the angel floats right in front of you. That one sword—your back twitches when you remember its slash—pointed to the ground; not at you. THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING.

You hold the staff up high. When the angel speaks again, its neutral tone now carries a hint of mockery. THAT STAFF ONLY OBEYS SERVANTS OF GOD ITSELF, the angel says. AN INSIGNIFICANT HUMAN LIKE YOU—

“Behold the power bestowed!” you shout, completely ignoring what the angel is saying. “By the grace of The One! For it accomplishes—”

YOU HAVE DIED, the angel lifts its sword, its blade glinting under the midday sun. TO DEATH YOU SHALL RETURN.

“—function as desired!”

The sword swings down and the earth splits in two underneath your feet. You stare up at the angel, somehow it doesn’t look as big as it once was—then your field of vision widens when each half of your cut body drifts away from one another.

But I want to live, your halved brain thinks.

HELL IS WHERE YOU SHALL FIND YOURSELF IN, you hear the angel continues despite being sliced clean in half. NO MORE CHANCE OF BEING JUDGED OTHER—

The solemn and neutral face of the angel drops as your bodies rise and knit itself back into one. BUT THAT—

Your hand wraps around that inscription engraved to the staff, its words clear in your mind as it vibrates under your grip, releasing an odd warmth that spreads to your whole body as that fire once again lights inside your chest. But it’s different than the fire that burns you down to your core; it’s not the angel’s fire—it’s yours. And the staff has responded to you.

For the second time.

“I guess I am an angel now, too,” you hear yourself saying.

The angel finds its resolve back. It lifts the sword once again with harder determination on its faces. I SHALL NOT DETER. YOU WILL DIE—

You open your mouth to scream, “Away!” and the staff burns in your hand when you swing it hard towards the angel. It can’t have possibly made contact with it, but as though blown by a torpedo the angel is flung backwards and away, flying far into the sky until it’s nothing more than a quickly fading glint of light.

Your chest rises and falls with each deep breath that you take; the staff gradually loses its fire and with it—its warmth. You return it back to its position as a cane to keep you steady and you slowly turn around, finding the two men curled up on the ground, hands still flat on their ears, tears running down their faces.

“You guys okay?” you ask, taking one unsure step closer. They may be strangers, but since you woke they have been nothing but helping, and you feel like it would be rude to pretend like they don’t exist. “I don’t know if I can help you stand, I’m sorry—”

“What was that?!” the cloakless man shouts. “What just happened?!”

“Long story,” you say. It’s actually not. “But anyway, it’s—”

You stop. And you stare down at the two men while they try to push themselves off the ground with shaking limbs. “Wait,” you hold one hand out, “pause. I can understand you?”

This seems to also be news to them. “I can understand you,” the cloakless man responds. “No, we can understand you.”

The cloaked man tilts his head back under the hood. “You speak Wahjani? What was all that, then?”

“Wahja—no,” you correct, “you are speaking my language.”

“No,” he retorts. “You are speaking our language.”

“No, I don’t!” You fling both hands out to emphasise, and you lose your grip on the staff. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you grumble as you try to retrieve it.

One of the men speaks—but it’s back to that language you don’t know. You look at him, eyebrows knitted and eyes wide. “What?” you ask.

He blinks, staring at you perplexed. He repeats what he just said but it’s no different—you still can’t understand a word that he’s saying. “I don’t,” you say through gritted teeth, finally reaching the staff, “understand you.”

“What the hell?” the cloakless man mutters. Now it’s your turn to be perplexed. “You suddenly switch languages.”

All three of you instantly shift your gazes to the staff in your hand. “Is it …?” the cloaked man asks, doubtful but intrigued. You drop the staff back to the ground.

“Okay, now try saying something,” you tell them. They stare at you blankly, shaking their heads after a moment of silent confusion. You bend down to pick the staff up. “Okay, how about now?”

“By the Gods!” the man in cloak points. “It really is the staff!”

“It must be,” you agree, observing the decorated staff in your hand, running your thumb across the inscription. It did perform its function as desired: you wanted the angel to be gone, and it helped you accomplish that. But maybe it also fulfils other things you are not actively wishing for at the moment. Surely being able to communicate is something to want.

You’re interrupted from your thoughts by an awkward clearing of the throat. You divert your gaze and see both men are looking away, with the cloakless man vaguely pointing towards your direction. “I suppose,” he begins, “if we are able to understand each other, it’s—eh—it’s best to let you know that ….”

His voice trails off while his complexion deepens. You look down—and your borrowed cloak is open. You have been thoroughly exposed. With a yelp you turn around and fuss with the front of the cloak, trying to find a way to keep them closed. The staff has fallen off your grip—again—so while you’re able to recognise the voice that approaches you from behind to be belonging to the cloaked man, you can’t understand what he’s trying to say until he gently puts his hand above your hand, and he pulls two ties from a hidden pocket on the sides. You hold the cloak tightly closed on your chest and your stomach while he secures them with a knot above your waist. “Thank you,” you mutter, too embarrassed to look up. Then you remember that your hands are not holding anything—and the other man hands you the staff. “Thank you,” you repeat once it’s firm in your hand. “To both of you.”

They each nod while looking away. You can’t blame them—you yourself wish you can simply disappear into the ground. Your breath hitches as you quickly bring the staff to your chest. No, no, I don’t actually want that. Please don’t make me disappear into the ground.

After a beat of suspense—and perhaps recovery from the awkwardness for the men—you release your breath and hold the staff as a cane again. “Anyway,” you say in a low voice. The men lean their head in closer. “Thanks for all the help. And sorry for all the … disturbance.” You grimace. What a criminally massive understatement. “I’m—”

Then you stop. Should you introduce yourself? That surely is the right thing to do. But if this isn’t hell, and somehow your wish to live—not merely existing—has been granted by the staff upon that first touch, shouldn’t you take this chance to start anew? A clean slate where you get to decide everything to do with yourself—including your name. You never quite liked your parents’ choice, anyway.

With the men expecting you to continue, you quickly pick the first name that pops into your head. It’s just a placeholder, you reassure yourself. I can change that whenever.

But when they repeat your new name back to you slowly, as though tasting the way it’s sounding, you realise that you actually like it. Maybe even by a lot. It fits you like a glove and fills you with more joy than you can ever imagine a name is able to.

“Well, I’m Kyungsoo, that’s Yixing,” the cloakless man says. “We were just trekking through the forest when we saw a meteor falling down. When we came to check—”

“There was you,” Yixing finishes.

You heave a deep sigh as you turn to once again take in all of your surrounding: the dense and tall trees circling the crater where you wake up in the centre of. Then you aim your sight to the sky—the same spot the angel first appeared earlier. “Do you …,” Kyungsoo begins, almost unsure, “... want to tell us exactly what happened?” You look at him. “It was really confusing—there was a sound, then there was this bright light ….”

“I told you it’s a long story.”

“And the nearest town is about three days by foot,” he says. Then he adds with a nod: “Believe me—we have time.”

You consider that for a moment. He speaks as though he’s entirely sure that you’ll come along with them. Of course, that’s a logical assumption: until mere minutes ago it seemed like you couldn’t communicate with them. You are definitely not familiar with the area, and for all they know you came from outer space as a meteor. Moreover, as you assume they assume: you are a woman, naked and alone, with nothing but a staff and a borrowed cloak. They’ve seen what you’re able to do, so maybe they won’t try to do anything funny. And from your point of view, it’s clear that sticking with them would be advantageous—if nothing else, you can find your way out. You look down at the staff in your hand. Especially when you don’t even know if you’ll be able to use this staff like you did earlier.

“All right, fine,” you finally say. “Lead the way. I’ll tell you everything I remember.”

#this story idea came when i was just shitposting lmfao #but i had so much fun writing it i hope you'll find some joy reading it too ^_^#scentlacigarette #series: I Isekai'd Myself...#RPF #EXO fic #EXO x Reader #EXO/Reader #Yixing fic #Yixing x Reader #Kyungsoo fic #Kyungsoo x Reader

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babieken · 1 year ago

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Reading old fics is so funny bc the aged up character at the time is that age now kejfkdk

#I’m reading an old exo sehun x suho fic #and at one point there will be a time jump and suho is gonna be 33 #hes 32 now kdndkd #idk i just thought it was kinda funny

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kaesficrecarchive · 2 years ago

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[sehun x suho]

and the rest is rust and stardust by curledupkitten (chanyeol) (1/1 | 16,296 | E)

sehun has always been hesitant to unpack.

#sehun x suho #sehun x joonmyeon #exo #seho fic rec #one shot #wc: 10k-25k #c: kpop #to read

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li-bruh · 2 years ago

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Please do a love/relationship reading on Exo Sehun and Krystal Jung and their fs. Are they dating eo and how is their relationship going

Sehun's Love Life 13th of Dec '22

Sehun as of now seems to be distancing himself from love. I see a lot of trouble within this area of his life. So he is either close to a break up or going through one at the moment. It causes too much damage on both sides. Even though his feelings for his (ex) partner were true throughout the whole relationship the break up will be in favour of both parties. These conflicts have been dragging him down for so long, he needs time to heal now. It's sad to see but the relationship was filled with a lot of unnecessary conflicts which caused a lot of disagreements that were never solved.

Sehun's FS Love Life 13th of Dec '22

His fs is currently in a relationship that they no longer see the purpose of staying in. They both argue about small things which quickly get out of hand. It seems like a down ward spiral whenever they are caught in an argument. Both parties are too impulsive which just adds more fuel to the fire. Despite their ups and downs Sehun's fs doesn't want to give up just yet. They think the relationship can still be saved even though they see the red flags bright and clear. Somehow they are waiting for the other party to make a decision. Low key still hoping they are not giving up. Doesn't want to make the decision on their own, wants their partner to initiate.

Krystal's Love Life 13th of Dec '22

She has been in a very emotionally manipulative relationship that she is currently recovering from. Even though she was left with her heart broken into a million pieces she didn't want to give up on them. Deep down she knew it was the right thing to do. Letting go was the only option for her to finally gain back her strength and focus on her well-being. She is trying to separate the good from the bad and transform what she has experienced into "lessons learned". She will focus on learning to overcome her fear of commitment so she can finally move on and be ready for future relationships. She most definitely doesn't want to bring her trauma into a new partnership.

Krystals' FS Love Life 13th of Dec '22

Krystal's future spouse is currently too focused on work to even have time for a relationship. That's their response to all the hurt from their last relationship. They suppress their feelings in hopes the pain will fade away by its own. It has already been a while since they took some time off and enjoy some time alone. Not a day goes by where they refuse to relax. They simply don't allow themselves to rest. Sadly, their work effort also remains unnoticed. It's just a matter of time until the past will hunt them down and they are forced to deal with their unhealed trauma.

#tarot reading #exo #exo sehun #krystal jung #f(x)#f(x) kpop #f(x) krystal

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rav3nmuse · 2 years ago

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Music Suggestion While Reading

kpop fanboy!eren who runs a famous stan account for his favourite kpop group — but mostly only famous himself because most fans stan him instead

kpop fanboy!eren who regularly posts dance videos or makes fan based tiktoks about the group. kpop fanboy!eren whos even been noticed by some of the groups on twitter when they do occasional menpas.

kpop fanboy!eren who makes a group chat for a meet up at a concert for his favourite group in his city. kpop fanboy!eren who adds you into the chat, unknowing of how cute you are. he doesn’t realise at first — being chat admin comes with it’s responsibilities and for awhile he’s unaware of who you are.

but one day kpop fanboy!eren checks your account out of curiosity and it’s absolutely star struck by how pretty you are. kpop fanboy!eren who dms you privately to get to know you. kpop fanboy!eren who no longer talks in the chat but never fails to text you throughout the day.

“fuck, you’re much cuter over the screen.”

kpop fanboy!eren‘s voice is deep as you cover your giggle with the back of your hand. why exactly was he facetiming you again?

kpop fanboy!eren who’s chats are suggestive despite his constant tweets about turning down advances from other fangirls. kpop fanboy!eren who asks if youd like to meet up a few hours before the kpop concert.

kpop fanboy!eren who takes you out for a meal at the kbbq place not too far from the venue.

“damn, you’re even cuter in person” he says as he hugs you hello.

kpop fanboy!eren who tells you to slip with him into his section of the concert venue so that you’re closer to the stage. kpop fanboy!eren who tells you to come with him to the toilets real quick before the concert starts — something about one of his contacts flying out.

however, once you step out of the arean seating area, kpop fanboy!eren softly leans you up against the wall of the hallway and you have to ask him what’s wrong.

“can i kiss you right now?” he asks, breath hitched and hands warm on your waist.

“what happened to your contacts? they’re okay now?” you muse although you can feel your heart picking up at his advances.

“they were always fine.” he rolls his eyes. “just wanted an excuse to get with you alone.”

and you figure that was the idea but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. regardless, youre leaning in first so that he can get the message. kpop fanboy!eren takes the initiative and lightly kisses you as he meets you half way.

but the kiss doesn’t stay innocent for along and soon the both of you are gripping at each others faces and pressing into the other.

“okay, now i need to go to the bathroom.” he breaths and you understand what he’s getting at.

kpop fanboy!eren ends up fucking you over the sink in the communal toilets. his moans are so loud, garbling on about how he’s been waiting so long for this.

every time someone accidentally steps in, you have to abashedly cover your face because most of stan tweet were literally at this show. but kpop fanboy!eren didnt care about who saw, and that aroused you even more because he had more to lose than you did.

the both of you hear the thundering opening of the kpop act coming on stage and you want to get angry at the man but you cant! he was digging you out so good that maybe missing just the first few minutes werent so bad.

“ren…ren…t-the show.” you whine with the back of your head leaning against the mirror.

kpop fanboy!eren doesnt let up — he just continues fucking into your wet cunt.

“fuck the show. right now…im f-fucking…fucking you.”

kpop fanboy!eren pulls out at the last minute and ends up cumming onto your concert fit. you have in mind to be mad at him but the sparkling glow in his eyes and the way he still reaches in for a kiss changes your mind.

both you and kpop fanboy!eren go back to the arena area to watch the rest of the concert and you enjoy it regardless. you just both make sure to mute your usernames on the timeline once it’s finished.

#YOOOOOOO #Lol now I’m trying to figure out what gen kpop Stan eren would be #lol I think he’d be 3/4gen Stan #I FEEL LILE EREN WAS DEF A 2ne1 Stan and he prob misses ot7 of monsta x #if he was a 2nd gen he’d def be an exo fan but since he’s not Kai is still his biase #I HAD TO PUT A KOREAN SONG #like peaches or slidin by Kai would have fit too #LITERALLY KAI WHOLE DISCOGRAPHY #music suggestion while reading #eren x reader #eren jeager smut #eren x black reader #Spotify

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a-moth-to-the-light · 1 year ago

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Summer of K-pop Tag, 10 & 11

[introduction/full list of questions]

ITS FREE SLURPEE DAY !!!!!!!! I GOT COCA-COLA FLAVOR <3

Oh yeah and I think the new EXO song is a standout! It sounds especially nice in a playlist with "Sugar Rush Ride" :)

Current Obsessions:

Sugar Rush Ride -- TXT (the guitar really wins this one!)

Jump -- P1Harmony (oh i like this a LOT better than "do it like this")

History of Man -- Maisie Peters (if you liked "this love" by taylor swift)

Death By A Thousand Cuts -- Taylor Swift (it's giving the best parts of "boy with luv")

Question(s) of the Day: what’s your go-to summer song by a boy group?

I made a giant list to brainstorm this one, and then "Veronica" by Onewe came up on shuffle this morning. Deservedly, it blew all those options out of the water by the time the first chorus came around. That guitar riff alone makes me feel like the world is opening up before my eyes--it's that summer feeling of open windows on the highway; or it's that first sip of lemonade in June, right when the bitterness kicks in. Plus the string sections are borrowing from Lucy (my favorite kband, in case you were curious) in the best way possible, so it wins a BUNCH of bias points there!

exo: "love me right", "lucky one", or "the eve"?

"Lucky One" all the way! Disco EXO will always have my heart ("Gravity" is my emotional support EXO song), though I see why everyone's obsessed with "The Eve"--I've had my own phases with it, to be sure! But I love being able to dance my heart out to "Lucky One"--"The Eve" just can't quite compare to that euphoria! (Is this what they mean about exercise making you happier or whatever?)

(Also, sorry, "Love Me Right", I'm just not all that into funk yet!)

f(x): "hot summer", "electric shock", or "red light"?

"Hot Summer". For reasons I refuse to explain (mostly because I can't), I always end up coming back to this one over the other choices. Something about the sizzle of the bass and the dullness of the hook just matches my mood during, well, hot summer days-- "Hot Summer"'s specific brand of dated-sounding, mechanical weirdness is just the right match for those hollow July afternoons, especially when my chronic pain is acting up worse than usual.

what's your favorite song from f(x)'s pink tape?

"Airplane". I hate not choosing "No More" and "Signal", but "Airplane" is, at the risk of sounding overdramatic, a representation of exactly why I spend so much time (read: all of it) listening to music, and thinking about music, and generally being excited about music. I adore the way "Airplane" can make my heart soar even before the beat drop (the production is gold all the way through!!); the way it can show me, and even make me believe in, a vision of the world far more beautiful than my uncontrollable low moods allow me to see. Music, especially songs as uplifting as "Airplane", is my escape, but it's an escape that doesn't take me away from my world, instead allowing me to see the same world in brighter colors--"Airplane" brings out the best in sunshine, making everything around me shimmer just a little. It's a truly magical song!

Tomorrow: AOA!

#i think i sound meaner to 'hot summer' than i actually feel ?#i def don't think it's the best f(x) song but i do legitimately enjoy it quite a bit !!#it's catchy as all hell for one #summer of kpop 2023 #kpop asks #onewe #exo #f(x)#okay time to pass out #read: sleep #read: read too much manga and then sleep

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eruden-writes · 1 month ago

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Rayelle didn't think her life could get any worse after she was kidnapped and then abducted by aliens. When her alien abductors are slaughtered by a black-armored enemy, She believes her luck has soured even further. That doesn't mean she's going to go down without a fight, though.

Tai'dqei never anticipated finding a human when he agreed to tracking and subduing a small group of smugglers. After he completes his mission, he notices another heat signature nearby. Following signature, he finds a human caged in the cargo hold.

Too bad when Tai'dqei frees Rayelle, she flings a cup at his face and runs, which triggers his most carnal of instincts. When sense cleaves through his brain, Tai'dqei realizes something is off with this human and he soon finds out she is not only physically displaced, but temporally misplaced.

The two struggle with misunderstandings, being pursued by enemy aliens, and more in this tale of one woman getting back to her home to her own planet and her own time.

Buy the print or ebook on Amazon on October 7!

#alien romance #alien fucker #monster fucker #alien x human #bookworm #books to read #new books #forced proximity #lgbtq+ characters #the unexpected human problem #tuhp #books #book #booklr #monster x human #exo writing #exophilia #monster lover #bookish

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le-avesss · 1 year ago

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Literally the best longest one-shot I’ve ever read.

Enchanted

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: TimeTravel!au (this is the last one i swear), romance, angst, Heavily inspired by Enchanted by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 21.1k (im sorry)

Disclaimer: As mentioned, this fic is heavily inspired by the song Enchanted. This is purely fictional and not based on what happened in real life.

Summary: Tired of constant fights of your parents, you found herself in the attic where an old wardrobe stood at the corner years before your family moved in the house.

What could an antique furniture do to change your life?

Meet someone from the past?

Because you totally did.

AN: I started to write this last 30 Sep, but got busy and just finished it tonight. Anyway, I would like to wish you all a Happy New Year! Thank you for being part of my 2022. You made me realize that I still love to write. 🤍 Enjoy the celebration with your loved ones! 🥂🎉

This is not how family is supposed to feel like.

Constant arguing. Constant yelling. Constantly throwing whatever they could find at each other.

Constant discussion about divorce.

Being the eldest daughter in an Asian household was a lot to take—an overwhelming roller-coaster of emotion throughout my entire life.

I must be the sacrificial lamb amongst my siblings.

My grades must be soaring high. Anything beneath an A was totally unacceptable and I must prepare for an earful about, “not being good enough.”

Dreams? I dismissed the meaning of that word a long time ago. My only career choices are Engineer, Accountant, Lawyer, or a doctor.

Art is stupid. That was what my dad said when I was in fifth grade and wanted a camera for my birthday. I was fascinated with taking pictures when I was young. Instead, I got a sad birthday cake from the grocery store and an outdated Jansport backpack as a gift.

You might be thinking, oh, life must be financially tough for their family. I thought so, too. And that was true. But my parents would do things differently to my siblings.

I tried to be the daughter they wanted me to be and didn’t ask or think ill towards my parents. However, when I started middle school, I learned that my parents just have favoritism.

And clearly, I was not their favorite.

The middle child who was just a year younger than me got a chance to join a Taekwondo lesson as a child, not because our parents wanted him to, but because he wanted to. After a year, he switched to football. After that, he was into boxing.

Just a coincidence?

No, he was our mom’s favorite.

The youngest was three years younger than me and she was enrolled in an Art school. She also wanted to be a ballerina. My parents were supportive of her. They paid for classes and for her goddamn shoes that needed to be changed every other week.

I thought Art is stupid, dad?

Oh, right... she was his favorite.

It’d be a few more months before I graduated high school and I couldn’t be more thankful that I received a full scholarship in a university which fortunately my parents have always dreamed of.

For years, I’ve already decided that I will live away from home and opt to stay at the dorms, yet again, I don’t have the right to decide for myself, aren’t I?

My mom and my dad unanimously agreed for me to stay in their house until I get my degree. They were too afraid that I would lose track of my supposed-to-be dream of becoming an Engineer. That was their choice, not mine.

I wanted to take pictures, but they wanted me to build structures.

Tonight, was no different from the other nights.

My dad just got home from his nine to five desk job and a drinking session with his colleagues, while my mom claimed that she was so stressed from her part-time admin job and still had to cook and clean after us.

I was the one who did the grocery shopping, I do not own a car and had to ride the bus with plastic bags in my hands. I was the one who washed the dishes and threw the trash out because apparently the youngest in this household just got her nails done and the chores would ruin them.

Dad said that the middle child should be excluded in the chores because he is a man. I honestly don’t get the logic behind his words. We are in the 21st century, not in the 1900s.

Despite all the efforts I’ve made, I was still not being credited. Yet again.

Dad was an old-fashion guy. He wanted to be served by his wife and his daughter—well, only me because his precious youngest daughter can’t do shit.

I was already in my bedroom and ready to tuck myself in bed as it was a school night when dad arrived, banging on the front door behind him as he came in. It started with yelling, cursing, and throwing stuff. As usual.

Then the divorce.

It’d be like this every single time. That I could identify the scenario as a routine in this house.

The only thing I could not and could never accept, was the fact that after this night, my mom would post on her social media how perfect our family was—or more like how she would portray it to be. My family is my everything, she would caption our family photo on Facebook.

Bullshit. Everything is bullshit.

I was seated on my bed; my eyes were closed as I listened to their argument. “I don’t love you anymore, I haven’t for the past ten years,” my dad screamed, earning a violent sob from my mom.

Then I heard a glass shattering on the ground—mom probably threw another of her vase collection to our dad. “Then leave! I don’t need you here! I don’t need anyone in this family. All of you can leave for all I care!”

The only thing I could do was to bury my face in my hands to muffle my sobs. Every time I’d think that I was already numb to this situation, I’d be proven wrong. It was still painful. To be in this family.

After a while, the house turned silent. No shouting, no cursing, no objects being thrown. It was just an earie silence. Then suddenly, the door across my room was opened and closed. Then the bedroom beside mine.

Oh, right.

Mom had to comfort my brother, telling him that it was just an argument, and everything would be fine.

Obviously, dad went to my sister’s room to do the same.

I almost forgot to mention that this is also part of their routine. That they do comfort their children.

Some people might think that they would probably come into my room after they calm down their favorite child.

No. They never did.

I had to wipe my own tears because no one would do it for me.

With a heavy heart, I pushed the comforter away from my body and placed my feet on the floor. Wiping the leftover tears, I went out of my room and the only place I could think of was my safe place. The attic.

Unlike other houses, our attic is well kept, courtesy of the loner in this house—me. You barely could see dust, spiderweb, and all that stuff. This was my only escape from this house since my siblings thought they were too cool to hang out with me while my parents plainly didn’t care.

The hand pulling light bulb dangled from the ceiling as I turned on the source of brightness in these four walls.

A sigh escaped my lips while I looked around the room, inspecting if someone came in without my knowledge. When I confirmed that everything was in their place as I left them, I pulled out my iPhone from my pajama’s pocket and was glad that I charged the device before I came up here.

February 20, 2020, 01:50 AM the date and time reads.

I sat on the wooden floor with my legs crossed on top of one another as I scrolled through my gallery for the random photos I took for the past few days.

A smile automatically spread on my lips on each file. Some of them were pictures of my friends at school while most of them were pictures of trees, trails, random people on the street and such.

I was focusing on one picture I took last week. The police station that was built over a hundred years ago. It was near my house and since I was a kid, the elderly would tell stories to us that it was requested to be demolished and be relocated to a much more commercial place several times but was protected by an influential family.

I was too occupied by my thoughts that I didn’t hear the scratching noise at the corner of the room at first. It took at least ten seconds for me to grasp that there was something inside the old wardrobe placed at the very far end of the attic.

I wasn’t a scaredy cat, at least I believed I was not. But when the scratching continued, I jumped on my feet, turning on the flashlight on my phone to shine some light at the dark corner of the room. I’m praying that it was just a mouse, or a cat—anything but the G word.

“Hello?” I stupidly called in a small voice, thinking that whatever it was would respond to my greeting. It took at least five seconds before the scratching against the wooden door of the wardrobe became a bit louder.

I should have been running back to my room, screaming my lungs out for help, but instead, I took a step towards the noise, opening the door of the wardrobe in a slow movement. I exhaled before rolling my eyes when I saw the tricolor cat I adopted from the streets a few days ago. I literally had to beg on my knees to my parents to let me keep the feline.

I clicked my tongue, carrying the purring cat in my hands. “How did you get in here, you silly?”

Closing the door of the wardrobe, the old hanging light bulb suddenly went out and I could feel how my heart was pounding loudly in my chest. I hugged the kitten close to me as I fumbled on my phone to turn on the flashlight again, but before I could click the icon, the scratching noise came back.

And this time, it was louder than ever. It couldn’t be the cat I was holding. I could feel his fur while he was in my hands, his paw and nails—everything. It was not him who was making the eerie noise.

The hair on the back of my neck was reacting to the fear I was feeling and the lump in my throat was threatening to escape as a wail.

The noise was coming from behind, not from inside of the wardrobe.

I may excel in my studies, maybe the top student in our class, but when it came to survival skills, I was a loser. I was a slow-witted pathetic human being. The first thing that came to my mind was to hide in the wardrobe and close the door.

Which I did.

With my eyes closed, I hugged the kitten on my chest tighter, praying for my life rather than calling for help. I couldn’t count how many times I chanted every prayer I learned from being forced to go to church every Sunday with my family.

I waited until the noise stopped before I could open my eyes. I was too frightened to move and could only peek through my lashes. Inside the wardrobe was too dark, and I was unable to see anything. I moved my foot so it could push the door a little bit and I couldn’t help but sigh in relief when there was a light peeking through the door.

I didn’t notice when my bare feet touch wet grass instead of the wooden floor of my parent’s attic. I didn’t notice the summer breeze instead of cold winter air. I didn’t notice the bright sun and clear sky when in fact I clearly remember that it was past midnight when I went to the attic.

Not until I instinctively hugged the cat who was supposed to be in my arms when I came into the wardrobe just to find out that he was nowhere to be seen. I turned around to look inside the furniture, but my fury companion was not in there as well.

My eyes were wide as I slowly took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Empty lots, vintage cars that I could only imagine seeing inside a museum are now in the bumpy road. People are also wearing crisp suits, dresses, and fancy hats.

Passerby would give me a weird look, analyzing my current state: in shock and in my Winnie the Pooh’s pajamas.

I was too terrified to move a muscle and I couldn’t find my voice to speak out. I stood on my spot for what felt like an eternity. Trying to convince myself that this was just a dream.

It should be.

When I finally found the courage to move, a hand grabbed onto my arm, preventing me from moving from my spot. Slowly, I looked over my shoulder and saw two uniformed personnel eyeing me from head to toe.

“We received a report that an odd lady is wandering about.” The man with a badly shaved beard spoke, removing his hand from my arm and showing his baton probably to intimidate me.

“I—I’m,” I cleared my throat when my voice broke, “I’m not wandering about. I—I’m actually lost.”

The two, which I assume, police officers looked at each other before one of them nodded his head to ask me to follow them. I had no idea what was happening, or where I was, hence I just followed what they asked me to.

We arrived in a small complex where other uniformed personnel were present. All of them looked at me warily when I went in the door. I could only hang my head in mixture of fear and embarrassment as I followed the man to a small room at the back.

There was a small table and two chairs across from each other and he sat on one of them. I stood by the door waiting for an invitation to be seated.

“You may take a seat,” the policeman extended his arm towards the chair in front of him.

I obeyed and gently took a seat. I was fidgeting with the ring I was wearing on my index finger. I bought it from the street of Hongdae a few weeks ago and totally forgot to remove it before going to bed.

“Before we start,” the policeman sighed, lacing his fingers together before putting them on the table, “may I ask what you are wearing?”

I instantly inspected my clothes; it was just an ordinary pajama I bought online. It’s 100% cotton but that’s not the point.

“I—uhm... it's a pajama I ordered online, and they were on sale—”

“I beg your pardon?”

I felt my bottom lip trembles, too intimidated from the policeman interrogating me and had no idea what I was supposed to tell him. Helpless was an understatement to explain my situation.

“It’s—uh... pajama?”

He visibly fumed, pursing his lips as he eyed me with concern and at the same time exasperation. “You are unmistakably unwell, and I require to have knowledge of your origin for the reason we can have a conversation with your guardian by allowing you on loose.”

I quickly shook my head, denying his claim that I was somewhat insane by just saying the word pajama. “I’m not unwell, sir. I—I’m just… confused. I-I don’t know where I am.”

The officer squinted his eyes, his lips forming a thin line. “You don’t know where you are?”

I slowly nodded my head, unsure if I was saying the right thing at the right time. “Yes, sir.”

He let out a breath, shaking his head not so subtly. “You are currently in Jung district. We spoke the same language then I deduce that you are from this country. Unless you are espionage?”

Jung district? That means I was still within the area. But why are they assuming that I was unwell just because of my choice of sleepwear... or using words that normal people didn’t particularly use. I had to use my last few brain cells to comprehend the word espionage.

Espionage?

Wait—spying?

My eyes widened, quickly shaking my head. “N-no, sir. I’m not a spy or some sort. I’m just—I’m an ordinary student who goes to school at—”

“Silence!” The officer roared, slamming his palm on the table that separated us. His voice and action echoed across the small room, making me jump on my seat, trembling in fear.

I whimpered, my head hanging low. “I’m sorry.”

The officer was quiet for almost a good minute until I heard him sigh, making me peeked under my lashes. He was shaking his head, hands placed on the table as he stood up from his seat. “You need to be detained up until the Chief gets here. You need to substantiate that you are not a spy.”

“Wait—” I got up from the metal chair, the legs of the furniture made a screeching noise against the cement floor. I held on to his arm, which was a bad idea as he immediately grabbed both my wrist and held me on the table.

I cried out in pain when the side of my head was slammed forcefully on the surface of the table. “S-sir, please. I swear to God, I’m not what you think I am.”

My choice of words might have been another bad idea as he fumed and mumbled under his breath how I used God lightly. A tear escaped my eyes when I saw a handcuff that looked different from what I’ve seen in the television, internet, etcetera.

I was escorted to the corner of the place where there are two separate prison cells. As I entered the bars, I saw someone on the other cell. He was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees while his head was hidden on his folded arms.

My sniffling went louder when the officer who handcuffed me slammed the cell door as soon as I flopped on the floor. My figure was trembling as I instinctively hugged my knees like the man on the other cell.

I closed my eyes, mumbling a prayer that this should be a dream and I would wake up from it and should be over the second I opened my eyes. However, before I could finish my mumbling, with my eyes still closed, I heard a subtle “psst” on my left.

My left eye opened about a millimeter while shifting my head a little to where the sound came from. The man I mentioned earlier was looking at me, though his head was still leaning on his folder arms.

His hair was jet black, his eyes were droopy, his nose was exquisite, and his lips—they’re perfectly pink and glossy.

He cautiously placed his index finger on his lips, gesturing to be hushed. I slowly nodded my head, not knowing if I could trust my mouth to speak any longer—because the last time I spoke, it led me here.

My confirmation made him smile; his eyes went to the officer on the other side of the room who was busying himself with something on his desk. When the officer seemed to not care about our small movements, the man on the other cell turned his attention back to me.

“Hey,” he carefully whispered, “what brings you here?”

I shrugged, mirroring his position, leaning the side of my head on my folded arms. “Long story.” I couldn’t help the sigh escaping my nostrils.

The man noticed my distress state and sends a comforting smile.

He had the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

“What about you?” I decided to ask when he caught me staring at him longer than anyone should have.

He also shrugged, heaving a deep sigh, “Long story.”

I shut my eyes closed and bit my bottom lip so I could stop the tempted snicker that wanted to escape my mouth—he was mocking my response earlier. When I opened my eyes to look at him, he was already staring at me with a gentle smile on his face.

My cheeks started to get warm from his gaze and he probably recognized the pink shade on my skin that he silently chuckled.

We were just looking at each other, as if trying to analyze the dancing orbs that were staring at one another. I was trying to figure out why I turned calm from just looking at him, when in reality, I was an awkward person who would stutter by a simple, “How’s your day?” at the grocery store.

I opened my mouth to ask for his name, but a loud voice boomed around the corner. The man on the other cell snapped his head to the culprit at the same time as I did.

There, a man who was wearing a neat tuxedo, his almost-gray hairline receding. He looks at the man whom I was talking with a perturb look while he examined his state: sitting on the dusty cement floor, looks dehydrated and beads of sweat are visible on his forehead from the warm summer weather.

The intruder turned his head to the officer who escorted him to where the small prison cells were—and he was also the one who banged my head on the table to handcuff me, and the officer who was guarding the cells. “Do you know what you have done?”

The two officers were both in silence, their intimidating appearance slowly fading away.

“San,” the man on the other cell suddenly called, I turned to look at him and his gentle smile was gone. He shook his head to the man in the tuxedo, as if asking him to stop talking.

The man in the tuxedo—or San, sighed in defeat, not before glaring on the two officers. “He’s the youngest son of General Byun.”

I furrowed my brows; the General Byun rang a bell in the deepest corner of my brain. I swear in my pathetic life that I heard that name somewhere.

However, before I could rummage my already messed-up brain, I heard the man on my left, distantly sighing as he stood on his feet, dusting his pants in the process.

The police officers who looked absolutely terrified immediately run to open the cell door on his side. They removed their hats and bowed their heads, apologizing for keeping him in there. He must’ve been from a noble family.

I kept my mouth shut while I watched the scene in front of me. I was not moving a single muscle, too scared that I might do something wrong again that would lead me to much more trouble.

I watched him walk towards San who was holding the door open for him with my lips pursed.

I didn’t even get a chance to get his name.

Before he could walk out the door, I noticed how tense he was and turned on his heels. His eyes met mine, somewhat with sympathy. He stood in front of the officers whom heads were still hanging low, ashamed on what they had done with this man.

“She’s coming with me,” the man announced, that made me gawk, as well as San who looked at him like he suddenly had two heads connected on his neck.

“B-but sir—the girl needs to be detained until the chief—” the police officer who slammed me on the table stammered, rejecting the man’s proposal to let me out of this prison cell and to go with him.

The man just smiled, reaching out to the cell door, shaking it impatiently for the officers to open it. “I will let my father know about it. I’m confident that he would have a conversation with the chief should there be problem arises.”

San hastily walks towards the son of the General, holding his arm gently. “Sir, you cannot mingle with a criminal.”

The man let out a psssh, waving his hand to San as if he uttered the most ridiculous thing in the world before nodding his head to one of the officers to open the cell door. “She was with me when I climbed the wall and managed to run away when you whistled like there was no tomorrow.”

When both officers were still hesitant to open the cell door, the man shook the bars once again creating a loud rattling noise. The officer who slammed my head on the table scrambled to his feet, clumsily looking for the set of keys hanging on his pants.

When the door finally opened, I was still unmoving on my spot, still on the dusty cement floor and hugging my knees while I watched four men waited for me to get out.

As I previously mentioned, my survival skill was set to zero. I may be academically smart, but I knew nothing if it was not related to my studies.

That was a huge problem. I know.

My friends in school were trying to help me cope with the outside world. Though, the sources have been limited as I was not allowed to get out of the house unless it was for school matter, or chores. I literally had to beg my parents to let me go out with my friends during the weekends.

I probably took a while, lost in my thoughts, when the man held out his hands, sending me his gently smile once more. “Come?”

Sparing my last functioning brain cell, I got on my feet, my hand reaching out to his. When my palm touches his, a smile slowly spreads on my lips, my anxiousness gradually fading, replaced by a gentle breeze that soothed my nerves.

San walked in front, the police officers trailing just few steps ahead as they accompany us to the off-white bumpy vehicle that had been parked by the curb.

As the officers bowed their heads for the trouble, San opened the door, and my hand was tugged by the man who was still holding onto it. The corner of his lips quirked up from the way I was looking at him with round, probably scared eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured, his thumb unconsciously rubbed a comforting circle on the back of my hand, “I will just send you home safely.”

Relief crashed through me, and I believe he noticed it because he chuckled huskily.

Once I was seated on the leather seat of the vehicle, I realized that he was still holding on my hand. I smiled; a bit awkward when I tried to slip off his hold.

“Oh,” he gasped when he realized what I was doing, “my apologies.”

His touch lingered on my skin when I took back my hand from his hold. Embarrassed, I placed it on my lap, fiddling with my fingers, waiting for him to speak.

I heard San clearing his throat on the driver’s seat, waiting for an instruction from the man sitting beside me. The latter turned his head to look at me, and I was allured in an instant.

“Where to, my lady?”

I ignored the blush from the way he addressed me, shifting my attention to San who was waiting for a direction of where to drive me.

San scrunched up his forehead when I recited my address, and even the landmark near my house. Nevertheless, he started the vehicle and drove off the curb.

My palms started to sweat when I looked out the window and the establishments on the road that I knew by heart were not there. Instead, it was soil and tall grass all around the place.

“Apologies, madam,” San met my eyes through the rear-view mirror, “but the road you referred to does not exists I believe.”

“H-huh?” Was all I could mutter before the man beside me clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“And could you bring to my knowledge the reason you have not tell it beforehand?” the man beside me huffed, his gentle exterior had faded and turned to show his authority.

“S-sir Baekhyun, I—”

Baekhyun.

The man’s name was Baekhyun.

“She’s already terrified, San,” Baekhyun explained. “The last thing I want to happen is for her to regret coming with me.”

Unfortunately, I had the cheek to blush from his words, though I managed to ignore the fact that my cheeks were likely crimson red. “I—it’s fine,” I chuckled awkwardly, the interruption made Baekhyun turn his head in my direction.

I gave him a tight smile before asking San to pull over so I could get out of the vehicle and familiarized the surroundings to find the correct path to my house.

Baekhyun followed my suit when I stepped out, his shoe wear gravelly strides over the pebbles on the ground to walk beside my figure.

I was starting to hold my head when I realized that the area is just grass—no houses or some kind. Just pure empty land.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled under my breath and was already on the verge of crying.

Where the hell am I?

“Holy—what? I beg your pardon?”

Baekhyun was eyeing me with concern on how I’m yanking my hair out of my scalp, also probably saying things that I wasn’t supposed to say... again.

However, it wasn’t long until his fingers circled on my wrists, pulling them away from the strands of my hair. I let my muscles relax, slowly ungrasping my fingers away from my hair.

That made Baekhyun smile. He nodded his head, “We’re alright. You're alright—you’re safe.”

“Sir?” San’s voice interrupted the scene, though it went unnoticed by Baekhyun who is still looking at me intently.

“Speak to me?” his hand that was holding to my wrist travels to my palm, wrapping his fingers on my hand.

“I—” I choke on my word, having to take a deep breath so I could speak clearly, “are we in Jung district?”

Baekhyun nodded his head, confirming my question. “Yes, we are.”

Mentally crossing my fingers, I asked him another question and hoped that he would say the answer I wanted. “Jung district, South Korea?”

That made him furrow his brows and look at me like I just muttered the craziest thing he could possibly ever hear. “Were you referring to the southern part of Korea?”

“Sir, I think we should consider going back to the police station,” San walked briskly to try to pull Baekhyun away from my reach. “She could be an enemy from that country and knows who you are.”

“W-wait—” I screeched; my chest starts to heave from the information that I’m absorbing one by one. Espionage. Empty land. Old model of vehicles. Enemy. Southern part of Korea...

“Do you mind telling me the date?” My mind started to get lightheaded, but at the back of my mind, I was hoping that this was just another weird dream that I would get from time to time.

“Today’s the second day of September,” Baekhyun answered, snatching his arm from San who tried to pull him away. “Are you feeling unwell, sweetheart?”

Despite the nausea, I managed to shake my head and continued to confirm my assumption. “Wha—what year?”

Baekhyun’s frown deepened, clearly not comprehending the point of my questions. Despite that, he still answered my question, and fortunately, I was able to catch it before my vision blacked out.

“Year 1920.”

Oh, shit.

My forehead could feel a damp pressure as I slowly regained consciousness, the muscles of my fingers were flexing on their own, and I took a deep breath before shifting my eyelids open.

I blinked a couple of times before I visualized the face hovering my laying figure, eyeing my current state in concern.

Baekhyun.

“Hey,” he stopped me when I tried to sit up, his hand held my shoulder, pushing me back on the spring mattress I was lying on. Once the back of my head hits the soft cushion, he removed the dampen cloth from my forehead, brushing the hair that got stuck on my skin. “Would you like some water?”

I contemplated for few more seconds before remembering the things that I’ve been told before I passed out. I quickly sat on the mattress once again, ignoring the puzzled look on Baekhyun’s face when I scoot away from his touch until my back reaches the wall.

“I’m not dreaming?” I croaked, feeling my body tingled from another episode of panic, “I—I’m supposed to be in the attic. Who are you—where am I?”

Baekhyun sensed my fear, he withdrew his hands that were trying to reach out, instead he raised it in front him, showing me his empty palm before giving me an assuring smile. “Calm down, darling. I will not hurt you.”

“I—” I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, “who are you?”

“My name is Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun.” he answered calmly, his voice is trying to soothe my nerves.

“Baekhyun,” I repeated, although I’ve already heard his name from San, it feels nice to say his name coming out from my lips. “Where—where am I?”

“We are in my house, though I have to apologize for bringing you in the staff’s quarter as I can’t be seen carrying an unconscious lady to my chamber.”

My eyes quickly scanned the room and there were a couple of bunkbeds across the room. I had to bite my bottom lip when it trembled. “And you said that it’s year 1920?”

Baekhyun nodded his head, stating the obvious. “Is everything all right? Speak to me. I could help.”

“I’m—” I sniveled; my body trembled in fear. Baekhyun finally found the courage to reach out for my hands, holding them in his.

“Shush,” he squeezed my fingers, attempting to calm me, but when my body wouldn’t stop quivering, Baekhyun had done something that I wouldn’t expect him or anyone to do for someone you barely knew.

He bent his neck so he could press his lips on my knuckles. His lips—they were damn soft, and it lingered on my skin even when he pulled away.

When he brought his eyes to meet mine, he smiled, his eyes forming a crescent shape as he did. “I’m here. You’re all right.”

I finally managed to nod my head, though slowly as I was still hesitant about my surroundings. But somehow, despite being a stranger, he could shift every fiber in my body with serenity.

“What’s your name?” Baekhyun climbed on the mattress, sitting a few inches away from me, and surprisingly I didn’t scoot away this time.

I uttered my name as I watched his orbs dance around my facial feature. The way he repeated my name, and how he sounded made me captivated even more.

“Can you tell me where you are from?” Baekhyun continued to ask, “I could send you home. Else I can send someone to look for your family.”

“I’m—” I took a deep trembling breath so I would not have to breakdown again—hopefully, “I’m going to sound crazy, if you want to throw me back to jail, that’s fine—I understand you, but—”

“You’re rambling, love.”

I was this close on passing out again from the endearment he keeps using on me. I thought that having my name would have him call me out differently, but boy, I was wrong.

I leaned forward to his ear, and he immediately understood what I wanted to do; he tilted his head for me to reach him easily. I whispered, “I’m not from here.”

When Baekhyun leaned back to meet my eyes again, I expected him to look confused or whatever, but he looked calm, and he just nodded his head. “I realize that.”

His response made me widen my eyes. I gasped, “you do?”

“Yes,” he replied, “I would always wonder on the road and this is the first I saw you—”

“No!” I cried out, burying my face on my hands. “That’s not what I meant.”

Baekhyun held the sides of my head, gently tilting my head up for him to see my face. “I’m sorry, it was not my intention to make you distress. But can you please clarify what you meant with your statement?”

I thought San was just waiting on the other side of the door, as he bursted inside the quarters with my wail. “Sir?!”

Baekhyun hissed, peeking behind his shoulder to glare at San. “I told you to not come in.”

“No—wait, I’m sorry,” I hiccupped, touching Baekhyun’s arm to calm him down as he looked like he was going to tackle San any second. Poor man.

Baekhyun heaved a sigh before telling San to close the door behind him. The old man stayed by the door as Baekhyun waited for me to clarify my previous statement.

“Baekhyun,” I started, and the man nodded his head, urging me to continue, “please don’t freak out, okay?”

Because I’m already freaking out.

He nodded his head again, this time, interlacing our fingers together.

“I was at the attic in our house when I heard this weird noise coming from a wardrobe, so I went to look for the source of sound. Then something weird happened, the light went out and the noise went from the wardrobe to whatever was behind me and it made me hid inside the wardrobe instead of running away, or screaming for help.”

Baekhyun frowned upon hearing my choice of action—hiding in the wardrobe instead of running away. Nonetheless, he continuously nodded his head as he acknowledged my words.

“Then I waited for a few minutes before opening the wardrobe, and when I stepped out, I was already here, in this place.”

I took a glance to San who had a baffled expression, like he was trying to analyze the information I’ve just given. As well as Baekhyun, who kept looking at me with a frown on his face, still.

“Say something,” I nudged his hand that was holding mine and it made him blink before clearing his throat.

“Apologies,” he has an odd expression that I’m unable to read, “are you saying that you’ve been kidnapped? Are you from the other country?”

Hearing the other country, San widened his eyes, panic was evident on his face. “S-sir, I warned you, she might’ve been a—”

“No–no,” I shook my head, quickly denying his allegation, “I’m not a spy, or some sort.”

“In that case...” Baekhyun mumbled, my heart feels like it dropped when he untangled his fingers with mine, “what are you?”

“I’m just an ordinary human being,” I explained, my voice getting wobbly. “I’m a citizen of this country—well, not in this year, but I am.”

This time, it was San who decided to speak up, “Not in this year?”

I was never good at interrogation, especially when I was not allowed to voice out my opinion in our own home. If I ever did, my parents would never fail to invalidate my emotions.

I didn’t even know I was already crying until Baekhyun tried to wipe my cheek with his fingers. I automatically leaned away from his touch, and I think that made the man confuse as I was not rejecting his advances, not until now.

“Just let me go,” I croaked, my eyes pleading to Baekhyun as I told him, “I promise that I will not bother you any longer, or talk about how you helped me out of prison, just—please...”

The quarter was silent for a few minutes, it was just my heavy breathing and my sniffling that could be heard across the room.

“Where will you go?” Baekhyun inquired, finally deciding to speak up. “If you don’t know where you are, where will you go?”

I whimpered, “I—I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, I guess...”

To say that I was disappointed was an understatement when Baekhyun nodded his head, moving away from the mattress so I could get out of it as well.

When my feet touched the floor, that was only when I realized that I was bare feet all along. There were already scratches on the sole of my feet from walking since I got here, but I ignored the stinging pain and continued to walk out the door.

I was quite lucky that I didn’t bump into someone on my way out. I sneakily glanced around the lot, and it was huge. The staff’s quarters were separated from the manor that was built in the center of the lot.

It was already dark outside, probably because I passed out and it took a couple of hours before I regained my consciousness. The night posts on the road were few and they were not bright as they were in my time. The road was still dirt with pebbles.

If this was near the Jung district I grew up in, I would know all the alley and everything, but they were none.

It took me approximately an hour and a half of walking before the police station could be seen but instead of going straight to the cell again, I turned on the other way, hoping to find where the wardrobe was.

After another fifteen minutes of walking, I reached the old wardrobe again. My heart was pounding in my chest as my hand reached out to the knob, opening it.

It was empty. What did I even expect? A magical light bursting out of the furniture?

I was standing on my feet, unmoving. I was slowly realizing, analyzing, all that stuff in my head just now.

The police station... was that the same institution that was built near our house?

If that was the case, my feet automatically brought me here by heart. This was where my house should be.

I broke like a dam, violent sobs came out of my mouth when I saw the empty lot, even our neighbors’ houses were not there. As if to add salt to my wounds, the rain started to pour, though I didn’t want to go inside the wardrobe once more, I had no choice but to find shelter while I waited for the rain to stop.

I’ve always been afraid of the dark. Since I was a kid, I would always have a nightlight with me. My parents... they never bought me a new one.

My father once gave me a small light bulb that would be plug directly to the outlet so I could have light at night, while my precious younger sister got a ballerina lamp.

I remember my mother scolded me when the electricity went out due to bad weather and I screamed from the top of my lungs when darkness illuminated my small bedroom. “You’re not a baby anymore! You need to toughen up! You’re scaring your little brother!”

I was only eight at that time.

I never have someone on my side. No one to look out for me. Except for my friends in school. They’ve been there for me. And they gave me an adorable duck nightlight as a gift when we were freshmen. I still have it, using it, and will forever treasure it.

I was only used to my friends who would be worried about my well-being, hence when Baekhyun acted like he was going to save me from my miserable thoughts, it was awkward, but I let my guard down because he made me calm.

I wouldn’t blame him for acting distant when I narrated what actually happened that brought me here.

Who would in their right mind would believe that I came from a wardrobe like in The Chronicles of Narnia where the Pevensies hid and met Aslan.

I somehow wished it would be like that. It’d be much easier to handle than being stuck in the 1920s where there was a war going on and everyone would identify you as a spy.

Holy crap, what if they’d capture me as one? Would I be executed?

I still wanted to go to university, get my bachelor's degree, get a Masteral, and hopefully a PhD.

Thousands of thoughts ran in my head at once that I clutched the side of my face while weeping in extreme anguish, regretting the days I wished I wasn’t with my dysfunctional family.

Although I was nobody’s favorite in our household, I’d still take that over this.

As I took another deep trembling breath between my sobs, I felt a calloused, warm hand over my cold one. My shoulder jumped from the sudden contact; head whipped up in attentiveness.

“Hey.”

Baekhyun’s finger wrapped on mine as I whimpered upon recognizing him, a sense of comfort rushed through my nerves even though I barely knew him.

He tugged on my hand to make me step out from the wardrobe and I limply set my feet on the muddy ground. I could feel his gaze as he eyed me with concern when I didn’t stop sobbing, though it was more of a hiccup.

“What were you doing in there?” Baekhyun asked when I calmed down a little bit. I raised my head and looked at him in the eye, seeing San few steps behind him.

I unconsciously squeezed his hand that was holding mine, and my heart couldn’t help but flatter when he tightened his hold, tugging his bottom lip with his teeth in anticipation of my answer.

“This is the wardrobe I was talking about,” I peeked behind my shoulder to look at the strange furniture. “I swear to God, Baekhyun, I—”

“Slow down,” Baekhyun cut my sentence off, “I apologize if I let you leave earlier, but I promised that I’m not going to hurt you and let someone hurt you.”

I jutted my bottom lip, wiping my eyes with my other hand as I sniffed, finding comfort with his words. Though I stayed silent.

Baekhyun gently called my name, his thumb rubbed at the back of my hand, consolingly. “I apologize for what happened earlier. It was an unjustified action of mine. I should not have let a lady wander alone at this time of night.”

I nodded my head, accepting his apologies as I tried to look him in the eye without making my orbs quiver in fear. “I swear, I—I’m not joking around.”

“About what?” Baekhyun inquired, frowning.

“About what I’ve said earlier,” I choked a sob, sniffling like a child. “I really am not from here. I came from this furniture—” I swung my hand to gesture on the eerie wardrobe behind me and Baekhyun’s eyes shifted to look at the antique for a second.

“Would you mind expounding what you meant, sweetheart?” he straightened his back as he was bending to see my face clearly, though he was not that tall—just a few centimeters taller than I was.

I think San also got curious that he took few steps forward so he could hear clearly what my explanation would be.

I pulled away my hand from Baekhyun, rubbing my face tiredly before exhaling heavily—preparing myself in case Baekhyun and San think that I was some sort of insane being, worst—spy from another country.

“My house was supposed to be built in this lot,” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder again, indicating the empty lot behind me, “and this antique wardrobe was in our attic even before my parents purchased the house, and no one bothered to get rid of it.”

Baekhyun nodded his head but said nothing, so I decided to continue. “As I've said earlier, I hid inside when I heard something and when I opened the door, I was already here.”

I saw San from the peripheral on how he tilted his head, his eyes squinting on the empty lot I was referring to, but I tried to not look away from Baekhyun’s intense gaze. He was obviously studying my face, as if tracing any sign that I was lying.

“I’m not lying, Baekhyun, I swear,” I croaked, and I noticed how his orbs wavered upon hearing his name coming out from my mouth.

He blinked after a few moments, his tongue peeking out to moisten his bottom lip. “When you said that this is where your house was supposed to be and yet you’re not from here...” he exhaled through his nose, eyes closing for a second before looking directly into my eyes, as if begging for me to tell the truth. “Will you be able to shed light on that?”

Finding courage that Baekhyun was finally willing to listen to me without the thought that he must’ve identified me as an enemy, I nodded my head, not before clenching my fingers from what I was about to say.

“You said that we are currently in year 1920?”

Baekhyun confirmed by nodding his head, and San who was listening intently nodded as well.

I continued, “Before I went inside the wardrobe, I checked my smartphone—” I saw how Baekhyun scowled but I didn’t bother explaining, though I took a note at the back of my head that it’d be for another conversation. “And I clearly remember, the date was 20th of February...”

Baekhyun and San widened their eyes, as it were the most bizarre thing they’d ever heard in their entire life.

But I bet that was not the oddest thing they’d hear tonight.

“And the year was 2020.”

I was back at the staff’s quarter in Baekhyun’s house. I was seated on the mattress I was awoken earlier as I waited for San whom I could hear talking to other staff on how I was his niece and be working for the Byun family alongside with them.

I stared at my feet, all dirty and wounded from walking all over the place barefooted. However, I didn’t mind the stinging pain a bit. All I knew was how my heart was lightened up when Baekhyun said that he’d take care of me and instructed San to take me in while we look for an answer on how I would be able to go back to where I came from—originally where I came from.

“Do you believe me?” I whispered when I sat beside him inside their vintage vehicle while San drove us back to Baekhyun’s house.

He looked at me puzzlingly at first that it made my heart feel like it dropped to my stomach, but it quickly vanished when he smiled gently. “One thing my grandmother told me when I was still a child that remains in my mind up until today and that is: To believe the impossible.”

I heard San calling my name from the door, cutting my thoughts from earlier event. I looked up from my feet as he stood by the door, a basin and towel in his hands.

“Sir Baekhyun asked me to give these to you,” San walked beside the mattress as he set the basin with warm water and handed me the towel. “He wants to apologize for not being able to give these to you himself. They can’t be seen here, particularly when other workers are finished in the main house.”

I gave San a kind smile, lifting my feet from the floor and soaking them to the warm water. I sighed in relief when my aching muscle and skin came contact with warmth.

“Thank you, San. And don’t worry about it. I’m more than grateful that you let me stay here, and that’s more than enough.”

I scoot to the side when San asked if he could take a seat beside me. He plopped himself staring ahead, seemingly in deep thoughts as I waited for him to ask questions that I know he was keeping in as Baekhyun could be quite scary when he was around him.

“Is it improper of me to ask you if you really are from the future?” he inquired, his voice was low and quiet like he didn’t want anyone to hear our conversation.

I smile sadly, my index finger picking on my thumb—a habit that I have had since I was a child when I’d be too scared or nervous. “I also couldn’t wrap my head about it.” I tried to cover up my nervousness with an awkward laugh, but it failed. I just sounded like I was about to pee my pants any minute now. “Is it improper of me to wish that this is just a dream?”

For the first time I’ve met San, though it wasn’t that long, he chortled, and it made me beam, flashing him a toothy grin.

“What is the future looks like?” San asked before turning his head on the side to yawn. I looked at him fondly, he was such a hardworking man, especially for someone like Baekhyun who was obviously strict to his employees.

I shrugged, lifting my feet from the basin to wipe them with the towel I was given a while ago. “There’s no flying cars, don’t worry.”

My response made him cackle, he wiped his teary eyes with his hand, shaking his head while calming himself down. “I apologize if what I’m about to say would be inappropriate, however I have not thought that you are hilarious from the way you cower in fear when talking to Sir Baekhyun a while ago.”

I scrunched my nose, “I’m an awkward person to talk with, but I don’t know... I feel comfortable with you. Though you really did give me a fright when you claimed that I was a spy.”

“I apologize for that Miss, I—”

“No worries,” I shook my head, cutting him from unnecessary apology. “But yeah, Baekhyun was obviously caring and kind, but could be quite intimidating, not the bad kind of intimidating, but you know—”

“He really is,” San agreed, nodding his head probably to not make me feel bad from talking about his employer. “But he’s a good man. He was just raised to be stern, although he can be mischievous on occasions. Do you want to know why he was in the prison this afternoon?”

I was dying to know, and I was glad that I didn’t have to ask anyone about it. I quickly nodded my head, giving San a signal to tell me what happened.

“Sir Baekhyun did not agree to meet the lady his mother was forcing him to marry—” oh, boy... if I said that I didn’t feel anything upon hearing that information, I’d be a hundred percent liar. “Consequently, he ran and hid for the whole day. He came back in the middle of the day and rather than coming through the gates, he climbed on the wall at the back of the main house to furtively get to his chamber.”

I hummed as an answer as I was not able to form a proper sentence to acknowledge his words. Though, I had no relation with Baekhyun, it felt weird having some sort of connection, unconsciously, towards him.

I thought that with my lack of response, San would end the day and would retrieve to his room as it was getting late, but he must’ve been that interested with the idea of me being from their future.

“What is a smartphone?”

I felt how my lips spread a wide smile being able to explain something that I was passionate about. I’d love to discuss the technology that has developed a hundred years from now. It was late, but I didn’t mind.

It was going to be a long night.

The next few days, I was slowly grasping the routine of working for the Byun family. It was exhausting as there were three separate houses though I only attended the staff quarters and the guesthouse.

The guesthouse that mostly occupied by relatives, associate from other cities, that I was informed to stay away from.

I haven’t seen Baekhyun ever since he decided to take me in and delegate my well-being to San who was probably the nicest and most understanding person I’ve ever met in this dimension—what I liked to call it, secretly.

At first, I was downhearted that Baekhyun didn’t reach out to me, or even send a message to San like he did when the first night I came here, but when San advised that Baekhyun was in trouble about the marriage stuff with his mother’s friend’s daughter, I slowly came to realize that I was just someone whom he helped and he had other things that he needed to take care of.

“How old is he?” I asked San when I followed him at the garden built at the back of the main house. It was late afternoon and I had nothing else to do except to follow San around like a good niece I was. “I mean—if you don’t mind me asking.”

San flashed me a kind smile before inspecting a bed of Gloriosa Daisy to make sure the gardener did his job properly. I also found out that San is the butler of the Byun family for almost twenty years. “Sir Baekhyun had just turned twenty last May.”

I nodded my head, my lips forming an O shape. “He’s older than me as I expected, but we’re almost the same age.”

“It’s impolite to ask for a lady’s age, thus my lips will be sealed.”

I laughed at San’s statement. My booming voice echoed across the empty garden. The old man’s eye crinkled in delight upon seeing my reaction.

“I’m eighteen, San.” I told him my age anyway. I shrugged my shoulders when he looked at me like he was expecting me to be twelve or something. “Anyway, isn’t twenty too young to be married? Or is it normal in the olden days?”

San grimaced with my choice of words but laughed, nonetheless. “It is indeed young to get married at such age, but it’s considered as norm, particularly to prominent families.”

I was about to respond to San’s statement when my eyes travelled to the main house. There was a large window facing the garden and there he was, Baekhyun, standing inside the house. He was wearing a white dress shirt as he stared at us in the distance.

I raised my hand a bit and subtly waved at him, a tight smile on my lips. San realized the absence of my response, so he turned his head to see what other things caught my attention.

He immediately bowed his head upon seeing Baekhyun inside the house, looking at us with a blank expression on his face. Baekhyun didn’t even bat an eyelash to San and kept his eyes on me, before turning his head away and walked off from the window.

I sighed dejectedly, turning to San who just shrugged his shoulders. “Sir Baekhyun is having a difficult time with the arrangement he’s requiring into.”

I nodded my head understandingly, starting another conversation with San who instantly shifted his focus on the topic I was talking about.

I felt bad complaining about my life situation when Baekhyun, who was undoubtedly a good person, was being forced to do some things against his will. I understood that we probably wouldn’t be able to talk for quite some time, or until San and I find a way for me to get back where I really came from.

I never thought that that would be the last day Baekhyun would stop distancing himself away.

For the reason that I was awoken by soft knocks inside the quarter I was staying for a week now. It was the smallest room, but San defended that they prefer me to be alone instead of mingling with other employees in the household. They would rather not take the risk.

I truly understand, though, and I honestly don’t mind. I also have the smallest bedroom amongst my siblings, so it didn’t really matter to me.

Squinting my eyes, I propped on the mattress using my hands as I peeked at the mantel clock on the bedside table. It was two in the morning.

San never knocked this early to instruct me a chore before, so I was confused. What could he possibly need to wake me up in the middle of the night?

Nonetheless, I grumpily threw my body out of the bed after lighting up a lamp before walking to the door to open it.

“Hey.”

I was half-asleep and wasn’t prepared to see Baekhyun, in his sleepwear, standing on the other side of the door, his closed fist was raised in the air and was about to knock on the wooden door again.

I blinked several times, trying to get the sleep away from my eyes, when I heard Baekhyun melodious laughter again after days of not having an interaction with him.

“Did I wake you up?” His voice was husky and deep, that it made my insides do some flips.

I shook my head, opening the door of the room a bit wider so I could step out. “It’s okay...”

I felt his eyes on me for a while, and when I found the courage to look up to his face, his lips formed a smile, eyes crinkling as he did. “Do you mind coming with me for a bit?”

Without any hesitation, I nodded my head, closing the door behind me as I followed his steps outside. It was summer but during the night, the breeze was slightly cooler than it would during the day.

We walked for almost ten minutes until we reached the garden at the back of the main house, where Baekhyun had seen San and I talking in the afternoon. He led me to the hedge maze on the further side of the lot.

“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun suddenly chuckled, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up to him with wide eyes, not knowing what he meant by the unexpected assurance. “These shrubs are not that tall. You can scream for help if you think I would be doing something inappropriate.”

I opened my mouth to deny his assumptions of what I was probably thinking, but no words came out. Hence, I just waved my hands desperately.

Baekhyun’s eyes twinkled, as if he was adoring every reaction of mine. He shook his head and turned on his heels to continue walking in the labyrinth.

“How are you doing?” he inquired, looking ahead of him.

I took a glance at his side profile, pursing my lips when I noticed the bags under his eyes. “I’m doing alright... I guess. San has been helping me a lot.”

Baekhyun nodded his head, a tight smile on his eyes, and something irked me when it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. I apologize if I’m not around these days.”

“Oh—no, no,” I laughed nervously, scratching the side of my head as I tried to think of a better response to that. “I—I’m thankful enough to you for letting me stay here. That’s—that’s... uhm... more than enough. You don’t need to apologize.”

Baekhyun darted his eyes from my eyes to my lips which I was biting with nervousness. He blinked when I cleared my throat like he was snapped out of his trance. He forced a cough, chuckling awkwardly. He tipped his head to the side, asking me to walk beside him.

“Say,” Baekhyun murmured, our footwear making a pat sound against the ground. I peered on my side to let him know that he had my attention. “Hundred years from today, does people, even then, are being imposed on what they should be doing—or who they should be with?”

My lips automatically turned downwards, knowing his situation from San. I sighed before shrugging my shoulders. “Well—it’s different. Rich and influential people still do have those circumstances, but they have a bit more freedom... I think? People have become more open on different status in life, culture, education—that kind of stuff.”

Baekhyun heaved a sigh upon hearing that, and I couldn’t help but feel guilty. I could’ve just said, yes, to make things livelier, but that would mean that I’d be lying.

“Then I can take for granted that you have the benefit of freedom?” he asked, his tone a bit playful to perhaps lighten his dampen mood.

I crinkled my nose, wrapping my arms around my figure when a cold breeze passed by. “Don’t get me wrong, I came from an extremely ordinary family, but no, I do not have the pleasure of enjoying any kind of freedom.”

Baekhyun scowled, his steps coming to a halt before turning his head to glance in my direction. “Are you being arranged to someone as well?”

I snorted, shifting my weight to my other foot. “I could barely go out of the house to hang out with my friends, what more on dating.”

“Dating?” he breathed, uncertain with the meaning of the word in my vocabulary.

“Oh—” I gasped, murmuring a soft apology. “Dating is a term we used when someone would be going out— most often with the intention of evaluating each other's suitability as a partner in a future intimate relationship.”

Baekhyun took a few seconds before nodding his head as an acknowledgement that he understood what I meant. “That’s what dating is...”

I hummed and followed his steps when he continued walking on the path again.

“Then you have yet experience dating, I presume?”

His question caught me off guard, and I couldn’t think of a better response but to laugh awkwardly—inside my head, pathetically—my shoulders curling forward in embarrassment. How I wish...

And I could only hope I didn’t say that out loud.

But I think I just did... by just taking a glimpse of Baekhyun’s facial expression. He had a twinkle, almost mischievous, look in his eyes; his lips quirked up.

“Anyway,” I smiled at him, feeling much comfortable conversing with him when San assured me several times that Baekhyun was a good man, and I should not have any doubt when around him. “Is everything okay—are you alright? Not that I mind, but is there any reason why you called me at this time?”

Guilt flashed through my nerves once more when his shoulder visibly deflated as he sighed. Why do I always have to say the wrong thing at the wrong time?

“I was worried about you, to tell you honestly,” Baekhyun quavered, tilting his head up to look at the stars in the dark sky. “I feel terrible that I have not reached out when I was the one who told you to stay here.”

I smiled, though sadly, my hand itching to pat his shoulder, but decided to keep my hands to myself. “You don’t need to worry about that, I’m doing just fine. It’s sad that we have been trying to get me back to my time to no avail, but San has been taking care of me like I’m his real niece or something.”

I ended my sentence with a laugh to make things lighter, and I was glad that it made him smile.

“That is delightful to hear,” Baekhyun beamed, and I couldn’t help but to mirror his smile.

We were just looking at each other, our orbs were dancing at one another’s feature. Unknowingly, he raised his hand to tuck a lose strand of hair behind my ear. It was when his finger touched my cheek when I finally realized his action.

I tensed, at the same time, not disregarding the heat that was starting to creep up from my neck.

“You have a ravishing smile,” he commented, the tip of his finger lingered longer than it should’ve been on my skin, leaving a burning sensation on the largest organ of my anatomy.

Baekhyun must’ve noticed my speechlessness that he retrieved his hand back and tucked it on his back. He scratched the back of his neck with his other hand, before pointing it to the way back to the staff quarters.

“Let’s get you back. You’re freezing, and I don’t want you catching a cold.”

I was a hundred percent sure that I was not freezing, in fact my whole body was on fire.

Ever since that night, I would expect a knock on my door in the middle of the night. I got used to it to the extent that I’d be pacing back and forth when the mantel clock would hit two o’ one and he was not here yet.

There was one time that it was almost three in the morning, and I thought that he’d not come so I decided to go to bed as I need to be up early in the morning, else San would be in trouble—and I do not want that to happen.

I was dead asleep that I didn’t hear him knocking on my door. It was when I felt fingers on my forehead, brushing my fringe, then it travelled to the bridge of my nose. I let out a grunt before forcing my eyes to open. There he was, sitting on the edge of the mattress as he stared at me at my messiest state.

I was so embarrassed that I instantly tried to turn my back on him and cover my face with a blanket, but his movement was way swifter than mine. He was chuckling huskily as he fought for the blanket from my hands.

“Why do you shy away, my little dove?”

I’ve gotten used to nicknames that he’d use every time he’d see me. At first, I would blush like mad and stammer. Though now, my face would still flush, I somehow manage to live with it.

It was another night of strolling with Baekhyun. He was slowly getting bolder as he suggested walking outside the hedge maze and sitting on the ground, around the bed of flowers.

My arms were hugging my knees, staring straight ahead; while Baekhyun was leaning on his arms as he looked at the dark sky.

“Darling?”

I hummed, leaning the side of my head on my folder arms to look at him. Without tearing his eyes away from the sky, he inquired, “Would you like to dance?”

My brows furrowed at his sudden request, nevertheless I got up on my feet and dusted my bottom as I held my hand out for him to take. He had a wide smile on his face as he took my hand in his, hoisting him from the ground as well.

“I don’t know how to dance, but I’d say yes anyway because I know you’ll bug me for the rest of my life if I rejected your offer,” I grumbled, playfully rolling my eyes before following his lead. He had a hand raised in the air for me to take and a hand was positioned on my waist.

Baekhyun laughed at my sentiments, “I’m still astounded on how you were this adorable little sheep I’ve saw in the prison to becoming a lioness who would pounce on me when she gets a chance.”

I mumbled an apology when I stepped on his foot. I gave him a stinky eye at his metaphor but couldn’t stop the bashful smile on my lips. “I told you, I’m awkward at first, but I’m talkative when I get comfortable.”

A gasp escaped my lips when his hand on my back pulled me closer to his chest. Baekhyun leaned his head on my temple as he continued to lead the dance. We were swaying slowly and gently; I could feel his heartbeat on my chest, his breathing in my ear.

Finding comfort in our position, I courageously leaned my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes when both of his arms wrapped on my figure tightly.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one whose feeling it,” Baekhyun whispered, his nose buried in my hair.

Since the first day... I’d like to say. But instead, I just wrapped my arms on his torso, nodding my head to confirm his words.

I reluctantly pulled away when Baekhyun loosened his arms and when I tilted my chin to peer at him, he slowly leaned, and I thought that he would smash his mouth on mine without thinking—but I was glad that he didn’t. I was not ready, to be honest.

“Pardon me,” he pursed his lips, scooting his face a few inches away from mine when he saw my widened eyes. “I’m certain that you are the only thing that fills my head these days... and it’s insane.”

“Why—” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked, “why me? I’m not—”

“Why not you?”

I squealed when Baekhyun, who must’ve lost his control, dived to briefly place his lips on my left cheek. It was short, but his soft lips left a tingling sensation on my cheek.

Why not me? I have no idea. I’ve never been someone else’s choice before. I’d always be left out. To say that this was strange is such an understatement. I truthfully don’t know how to react nor know what to say.

Baekhyun nudged my cheek with the tip of his nose to snap me out of my trance. He looked at me worriedly as he pulled away and held my face in his hands instead. That didn’t help my racing heart as I was fully aware that he could now see my crimson red face and most probably my ears were blushing as well.

“Would you like me to give you some time to think?”

Dumb-founded, I nodded my head as I could not find myself to utter any word. I couldn’t be more thankful when Baekhyun just smiled and walked me back to the quarters with his hand still on the small of my back.

I was wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

San knew what happened, he was skeptical when he asked what I’ve been doing that I have been yawning for the whole day. I stuttered, of course, trying to find an excuse for my lack of energy.

“I never doubted that you came from the future, but you are clearly being dishonest right now, Miss.”

He looked so disappointed that I had no choice but to tell him the truth, that Baekhyun had been knocking on my door in the middle of the night for a quick stroll around the manor... and what happened with the son of his employer.

San looked so shocked, that he was not expecting my answer. “You’re bluffing.”

I chewed my bottom lip as I heaved a sigh, “I wish I am.”

I was following him around again around the guest house, a few staff were dusting the place as someone will visit the Byun family in few days.

San had to go to the corner and grab a chair to sit on. “This is going to be a disruption. Sir Baekhyun, he—he needs to obey his mother’s order.”

I pursed my lips before nodding my head. “I know, San—I know, and I also need to go back to where I came from. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve helped me a lot, but this is not where I belong.”

San nodded his head understandingly; his fingers rubbed his temple as he thinks. Before we could even say another word, we were startled when the staff in the area can be heard fussing.

I peeked over my shoulder and saw Baekhyun walking in the door. A neat dress shirt and a waistcoat adorned his torso, and black slacks on his bottom.

My eyes automatically widened, my head snapping in San’s direction, who looked surprised at the same time, in panic as I was. But unlike me, San quickly stood up from his chair, bowing his head as respect to Baekhyun.

I clearly forgot that I was supposed to be an employee and was about to walk away to pretend that I was busy dusting a squeaky-clean furniture when San grabbed my arm, forcing me to bow my head. I did, exaggeratedly, which was embarrassing as heck.

It was the first time seeing him during daylight since I met him at the police station. He looked unbelievably dashing.

“Sir Baekhyun,” San greeted him, his voice was professional like he didn’t just scold me for sneaking out with one of his bosses. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Baekhyun didn’t even smile when he pointed his finger directly at me. “I need her to come with me for a moment.”

My head whipped to San’s direction, shooting daggers on the side of his head with my eyes, as if to beg him to not let me go with Baekhyun who freakin’ stole a kiss on my cheek, sniffed my hair, and made my stomach do all those gymnastics shit my younger sister loved doing.

All other staff looked so surprised as well, but instead of looking suspicious, they looked rather worried that Baekhyun was asking for me. Probably thinking that I did something that got on his nerve.

San looked hesitant for a second or two before nodding his head with a smile on his face. “Right away, Sir.” he placed his hand on my shoulder, pushing me gently to walk to Baekhyun’s direction who was already holding the door open for me to follow him.

I kept my chin dipped down as I followed him to the staff’s quarter. He opened a door where cleaning materials were placed and closed the door behind after he checked that no one followed nor saw us.

“Did I—did I do something wrong?” I stammered; my voice was so small as I cowered down by his intense gaze.

I watched as he put his hand inside his waistcoat, fishing out a familiar machine from its pocket. I immediately gasped, snatching my smartphone from his hand. “W-where did you get this? Oh, my God, I thought I didn’t bring it with me.”

Baekhyun’s stoic face finally faded and replaced by the smile I was familiar with. “You dropped this when you went unconscious by the road. I had forgotten that I had this with me. I apologize, love.”

I gulped at his endearment choice for the day. I froze on my spot, not moving a muscle and I bet that he noticed it. He chuckled huskily; his hand went to pat my head.

Clearing my throat, I forced myself to look at his eyes, “Thank you for this. But you could’ve just waited until everyone’s asleep before giving this back to me.”

Baekhyun just shrugged his shoulders, a smirk was forming on his face. “Perhaps it was a rationale to see you.”

I playfully rolled my eyes, shaking my head, slowly getting used to his advances.

“You looked beautiful under the moonlight, but you look absolutely stunning when the rays of sun are kissing your skin, love.”

I shook my head, my lips caught between my teeth to stop myself from smiling too widely. I shifted my attention to my phone, my heart clenching for a second when I pressed the button on the right side, the thought of it not working was about to kill me.

I took a sharp breath when the screen lit up, the infamous bitten apple logo appeared on the screen. I peeped under my lashes to see Baekhyun’s reaction and he had his mouth opened as he stared at the device on my hand.

“Wha—what is that?” he gawked, taking a step forward to look at the device closely, our arms brushed at the proximity.

“It’s a smartphone,” I answered, showing him the screen when it finally loaded to my lock screen. I was not even surprised when the signal showed No Service. Like, hello?

“It’s like a combination of computer and a telephone,” I explained, showing him the contacts that I saved. “You can also use this for taking pictures, videos, and stuff.”

I raised my head to look at him and he had a very confused expression, that he was having a hard time understanding what a smartphone is all about.

I scrunched up my face, feeling guilty to feed him such information when he was probably not familiar with those functions in the first place. I knew that a mechanical computer was invented in 1822 but was not digitalized until 1942. So, I wouldn’t blame him for looking lost. That was my bad.

I opened the camera app and quickly snapped a picture of him that the photo came out a bit blurred. I grinned widely before showing him the photo, and his jaw dropped.

“This thing has been invented?” he gasped, thrilled to see a photo of him within a matter of seconds.

“Yes!” I squealed; my head turned to glance at him only to find out that he was already looking at me.

My smile slowly faltered when I watched his orbs constantly darting from my eyes to my mouth. I gulped audibly, not finding the will to scoot away. “I—I thought chivalry is a must in the olden days?” I breathed on his face which he didn’t even flinched.

“I have never done this before,” he responded, inching a bit closer, making me hold my breath and my hands instinctively hold on his sides. “I have never felt something like this before.”

Baekhyun exhaled through his nose before closing his eyes and opening them again when he leaned his forehead on mine. “I have been drawn to you since the day I saw you at the police station. I have been trying to elucidate why this is happening to me. You are the first person I would love to see in the morning, and the last person I would love to be with before I go to bed.”

It was a short brush of our lips together, but I felt the spark when they touched. A flash of warmth was spreading through my whole body.

I let out a deep trembling breath when Baekhyun’s hand travelled to my back, caressing it over the fabric of my blouse, before it went to cup the back of my neck. It was clear that he wanted to smash his mouth on mind, but it was apparent that he was stopping himself from doing so.

“Say something,” he fretted, nudging my nose with his.

“Baekhyun, I—” I croaked, “what do you want me to say?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his eyes were still looking at me gently. “That you feel the same way... do you?”

My lower lip quivered, torn into two things: If I’d be honest and say that I was indeed attracted to him, and even though I feel the same way, I still need to go back to where I originally came from, that I didn’t belong here.

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, “I need to get home... my family—”

“Stay here,” Baekhyun instantly responded, cutting me off, both of his cupped my cheeks, making me look directly at his orbs, “with me—stay here with me.”

I pressed my lips together, contemplating if it would be a good idea to stay. Will my family look for me? Will they even notice that I was gone for quite some time? Will they even care?

“May I love you?”

Without thinking much further, I nodded my head, a tear escaping my eye when I realized that I made an impromptu decision that would affect my entire life.

Baekhyun broke into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen; he giggled breathlessly as his thumb caressed my cheek. He slowly leaned forward, tilting my head so he could get better access to my mouth.

My friends in school told me that first kiss would feel like there were butterflies in your stomach, but heck no, it felt like someone fired up fireworks in my nerves, making the tip of my fingers and toes curled from exhilaration.

Baekhyun’s lips were soft. That was all I could think about at first, but when he started nibbling my pillows, I started to think differently. He knew what he was doing, and he was good at it.

I was a bit disappointed yet glad when he decided to pull away. I fluttered my eyes open, seeing how he was looking at me with his lips all red and glossy.

“I thought it was just going to be a peck,” I panted, rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand. “That was my first kiss, you know.”

“Forgive me, my love.” Baekhyun had the cheek to laugh at my statement, dipping his head down to steal another kiss. “That was the closest to heaven as I will ever get.”

San, once again, knew what happened. Not exactly what happened, but he had his eyes squinted when I came back to the guest house to actually help them clean the place.

I was avoiding his eyes the whole time but when we were done with the task, he asked me to stay behind. “I beg you to tell me that my thoughts are incorrect.” he pondered, and his jaw went slack when I let out a nervous laughter.

I honestly thought that with what happened, it would create such an unpleasant atmosphere but gladly that nothing really changed. Except for the fact that Baekhyun became more open with requesting to see me during the day.

“Baekhyun—” I tried to push him away when I was asked to deliver a meal to his chamber because apparently, he was not feeling well. It was true, though. He fell while riding a horse with his older brother and twisted his ankle. It wasn’t that bad, but he used it as an excuse to be pampered. “Someone might see.”

It was the first time I entered the main house. It was huge, and having no sense in direction, I got lost several times. Fortunately, another staff member saw me struggling with a tray and seemed to be losing my mind. She was kind enough to point where Sir Baekhyun’s room was.

Baekhyun was able to walk, though limping, it wasn’t bad as I expected. It had been three days since the accident, so I assumed that he was already healing.

That explained as to why he was able to jump off his bed when I knocked and asked permission to come in. He almost tackled my figure as soon as I set the metal tray with his food down on the table near the floor to ceiling window.

“May I have kiss, please?” he pleaded, almost batting his eyelashes at me. I turned my head side to side, as if someone was in the room, before leaning in for a quick peck.

I was relieved when that seemed to satisfy his need.

Often though, he’d still knock on my door in the middle of the night. There were times that I’d be exhausted to get up and open the door for him, hence I once told him that the doors in the staff quarters didn’t have some sort of lock, so he could come in directly to my room.

He was hesitant at first, saying that someone might get the wrong idea, then remembered that it was only San who knew about us.

“I trust San,” I told him, scooting on the mattress to give him some space to lie down. “He won’t tell anyone.”

Baekhyun hummed, shifting on his side, observing my tired state; droopy eyes, hugging the blanket on my body. “I speculate that San already had the wrong idea. He has vivid imagination.”

I let out a breathless laugh, tilting my head to look at him. The corner of his lips quirked up upon noticing my attention to him. I already knew what he was thinking, and it’d be not the first time he’d discussed it. “Let’s not give San’s receding hairline another reason to step back.”

It was Baekhyun’s turn to laugh, however he didn’t even try concealing his boisterous laugh that I had to cover his mouth with my palm. “Baekhyun!” I hissed, scowling at him. He nodded his head, fingers wrapping on my wrist to pull my palm away from his mouth.

He gave my knuckles a kiss and I thought that he’d put it back on my side, but he kept holding my hand in his, even placing our hands on his chest. “I will patiently wait, my love.”

I smiled widely, inching closer to place my lips on his. Glad to say that I finally got used to being affectionate and intimate with him. Although, we haven’t gotten that far yet.

Baekhyun exhaled through his nose as he tangled his finger on my hair, grabbing the back of my head to tug me closer. I grunted before pulling away, he looked confused for a moment but when he realized how deep I was looking into his eyes, his frown faded away.

“Thank you,” I said under my breath.

“For what cause?”

“Everything,” I murmured. “I’ve always thought that I’d be unlove for the rest of my life. You’re the first who made me feel wanted.”

Baekhyun knew my story regarding my family. He was surprised but did not say anything against them. Rather, he assured me that he’d never leave my side. “No matter when you need me, I will be there. I will never leave you. I will always come and find you.”

His movements were fast, in a matter of seconds, his lips had crashed mine. I was taken aback that my breath was caught in my throat, fingers clenching his back underneath the fabric of the shirt he was wearing.

My heart felt like it was going to jump out from my chest when his hand came in contact with my chest, squeezing my bosom. I sensed the lump in my throat, my hand went from his back to his face, pushing it away from mine.

“Baekhyun—Baekhyun,” my voice was stern, trying to wake him up from his daze which he snapped out of.

He closed his eyes, retrieving his hand away from my chest. “I’m—I’m sorry, that was not my intention.”

I felt his panic, caressing his face and that seemed to calm him down as he leaned his head on my palm. “It’s okay—you’re okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I was just surprised; you did nothing wrong.”

“I did! I—”

I shushed him, gathering the small amount of courage I had in my system to place his hand on my chest again. Baekhyun widened his eyes, tugging his hand back but I held it in place, smiling at him.

“I’m sorry that I’m not ready to do it yet,” I smiled before drawing my lower lip between my teeth. “But this is okay, you can touch them—you can touch me.”

Baekhyun was reluctant at first, but with a kiss on his forehead to let him know that I was certain, he started exploring my feature as a woman.

My sleep was long gone, my head was laying on Baekhyun’s chest as he buried his nose in my hair while we talked about things in our lives, mostly him asking about my life ninety-nine years from now.

“I really thought people from the olden days were conservative,” I admitted, “no offense, though.”

Baekhyun playfully snarled, his hand that was on back rubbing in circles suddenly pinched my side, earning a shriek from me. “I really hope you would stop saying olden days, you are making me feel old when I’m only twenty.”

I scrunched up my face, tilting my head to kiss his chin. “I mean, you’re probably older than my grandparents.”

He rolled his eyes before pretending to leave the bed.

“I’m kidding,” I laughed, pulling him back and hugging his torso like a bolster, tangling my legs with his.

His hand automatically found its way to my back, resuming his previous action. “I do wonder what historians had written about our time. It’s normal to make love. I did it the first time when I was fifteen.”

I bolted out from his touch, sitting up on the bed while I looked at him with my eyes wide open. “Are you serious? I could barely order in a restaurant without stuttering when I was fifteen.”

“It would be different in your time?” Baekhyun inquired, genuinely curious and ignoring the fact that he just told me his sex life that started when he was fifteen.

I cleared my throat, shrugging my shoulders. “I mean—my life was only between school and home. Others did the same as you, I think. I just—you know, assumed that it was marriage before sex in this century.”

Baekhyun wriggled his brows on me, sitting up on the mattress as well. “Are you asking to marry me?”

I gawked at him, grabbing the pillow at the edge of the mattress and chucking it to his face. “Excuse me?”

He chuckled, snatching the pillow and placing it out of my reach. He asked me to lie down again, which I did, but not before sending him a glare.

“What are people like in 2020?”

I yawned, finally getting lulled from the way Baekhyun was massaging my scalp with his fingers as I lay on his torso, my face tucked in the space of his neck. “Almost the same, but we dressed differently, and people became creative on dyeing their hair.”

I felt his lips on my forehead as I closed my eyes, scooting closer to his side if that was even possible.

“Government allowed people to dye their hair?”

I grunted, “Even males dye their hair pink.”

“A man with pink hair?” Baekhyun marveled, “who would do that?”

“What?” I chuckled lowly; I was this close on dreamland. “I think it’s adorable. If possible, I’d dye your hair pink so I can recognize you anywhere I’d go.”

I heard him scoff, hugging my body tighter.

“No, thank you.”

It wasn’t that long when San informed me that Baekhyun’s mother was being suspicious of his son’s whereabouts. I was confused initially because Baekhyun had been staying in the manor since we’ve been together, but when San reminded me that the youngest son of Byun family was a mischievous creature, that hit me.

There had been idle talk among employees, that their Sir Baekhyun had been having an affair with someone on the premises. Some employees would quickly turn their heads on me since they had been noticing Baekhyun would always ask for me, and some had wondered who it might was.

Instantly, I asked San for help, on what I should do with the situation, and he immediately told me that he would handle the employees’ whisper. “May I request for you two to tone down? If you could pass it to Sir Baekhyun, he won’t handle my suggestion lightly when I’d say it directly to him. I’ll talk to other maids about this.”

Surprisingly, Baekhyun agreed when he came over to my room. He said that it would be our only choice to be together. He assured me that he would handle his mother and would find a solution to our dilemma.

When things were getting better after a few weeks of not seeing each other, and his mother was finally forgetting Baekhyun’s odd behavior, I accidentally bumped with the, as San informed me, the chief of the police station where I was first seen by Baekhyun and San.

I wasn’t supposed to be in the guest house, but one of the staff had eaten something terrible and was advised to rest for the rest of the day. As San was already occupied, I offered to cover her tasks while she took a rest.

The chief was eyeing me like a hawk, as if he was examining my face like I was some sort of criminal. To which I was identified the first day I arrived in this century.

I still couldn’t get a hold of Baekhyun, consequently, I asked San to deliver the message to him instead as San was always in the main house for his duty as the main butler for the family.

That night, Baekhyun finally knocked on my door at two in the morning. I opened the door wide to let him in before closing the door behind us.

Baekhyun smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ears. “Hey.”

Without beating around the bush, I told him what happened with the chief and how uncomfortable it made me that someone outside the manor had recognized me.

“Those two officers must’ve sketched my face and showed it to the chief,” I gasped, nearly choking a sob. “They probably didn’t believe it when you said that I was with you. They saw me idling near the wardrobe, Baekhyun! What if they—”

Baekhyun shushed me by tugging my arm so he could pull me to his chest. He ran his fingers on my hair, knowing that it would always calm me. “It’s going to be all right. I will talk to father once I get the chance and ask for help. Please wait for me.”

Turned out that it was too late to ask for help. The chief came over the next morning, going straight to the lady of the house: Baekhyun’s mother.

My heart was beating so fast when San let me know that Lady Byun was asking for me. I almost cried on the spot because I already knew what was about to happen.

Despite having soft facial features, Baekhyun’s mother was terrifying. Her voice was stern, her eyes were like lioness who was like ready to eat her prey anytime, and that prey was obviously me.

My head was hanging low as I stood in front of Lady Byun who was sitting on a chair in the middle of a room. An employee was also standing at the corner who had worried eyes set upon me.

“Remind me to dismiss San for letting in a criminal in this household,” she spoke, her voice was cold and void of any emotion.

In an instant, I shot up my head, looking at her with wide, pleading eyes. “No!”

She raised her eyebrows on me, unable to believe that I just raised my voice. I quickly bowed my head to apologize, “I apologize, madam. I didn’t mean to shout. But San didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Are you saying that my judgement was unjustifiable?” she taunted.

I shook my head, “T-that’s not what I meant, madam. I—I will take full responsibility and will leave the manor in an instant.”

She scoffed, smiling bitterly. “You are aware that my husband is the General, am I correct?”

I shut my eyes for a moment, letting out a deep trembling breath. “Yes, madam.”

“And if the people heard about the Byun family letting a criminal on loose, do you know what would happen?” she argued, not letting me go easily.

I nodded my head, my eyes getting watery from the overwhelming confrontation that I didn’t want to be in. “I—I understand very well, madam. I will surrender myself to the police. But please,” I croaked, forcing myself to tilt my chin up to look at her in the eyes, “San didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her eyebrows twitched, “If San would be dismissed, I would like you to know that it’s your liability.”

I raised my hand to wipe a tear that escaped my eyes, whimpering in agony. Everything was going so well. I finally accepted the huge possibility that I won’t be able to go back to my time and spend the rest of my life here—with Baekhyun.

Then this happened.

San was frantic when he saw that I was being escorted by two police personnel, he tried to stop them but when I gave him a smile that didn’t reach my eyes, telling him that it was okay, also thanking him for everything he had done for me.

San called my name for the last time before I was asked to enter the police vehicle, and when I turned my head to him, the old man cupped his mouth as he teared up. I wept as I mouthed an apology for bringing him into this mess.

The ride was filled with my sniffles, the two officers were in silence as they listened to me cry. I didn’t even see Baekhyun before I got to be imprisoned for something I was forcedly identified into. I wasn’t even able to say goodbye at the very least.

I just want to hug him, kiss him, and to tell him that I was sorry to leave when I promised him that I’d stay.

When the vehicle came to a halt, I waited until one of the officers would open the door of the back seat where I was seated. I was staring into space and moved robotically when I stepped out.

However, before I could even take another step, I heard stomping of footwear getting louder, like it was getting near where I was. I peeked over my shoulder and saw Baekhyun sprinting to reach my spot.

The officers instantly tried to stop him from getting near, but I had no idea how it happened because the next thing I knew, my arm was hurting from Baekhyun’s tight grip, and my lungs were burning from dashing away from the officers who were whistling like mad as they chased us.

Baekhyun had told me that he knew everything about the place, that’s why I wasn’t surprised when he took a turn to a forest—trees around the area for easier to be hidden. We were both panting when we stopped running, and being the most unathletic student back in school, I sounded like I was fighting for my life.

I was engulfed with a hug by Baekhyun, and his musky scent instantly calmed my nerves. I started sobbing as I wrapped my arms around his torso, and I could hear him sniffing as well.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Baekhyun placed a kiss on the side of my head, tightening his arms around me. “I did not expect the chief would talk to my mother.”

I nodded my head understandingly.

“Father is still out of town; I have not gotten the chance to ask for help. I’m sorry I was not there,” Baekhyun croaked into my ear, “I apologize, my love.”

Before I could even utter a response, we pulled away from each other when the distinct voice of the officers could be heard.

We continued to run to the other side of the forest and when we saw that we were at the edge of the forest and the road could be seen, Baekhyun wanted to turn around, knowing how dangerous it would be to be seen running in the main road.

However, before I could follow Baekhyun’s steps, I heard an extremely subtle purr of a cat. I stopped on my tracks, eyes scanning the forest to look for the familiar sound.

Baekhyun called my name when he noticed that I wasn’t following him any longer and grabbed my hand to continue our mission.

“Baekhyun—wait—” I pulled him back, asking him to turn his voice down. “I could hear something.”

He scowled, but nonetheless tried to focus on the background noise if there was indeed a cat.

My eyes widened when there was a vivid meow and a tricolor feline showed himself from behind a tree.

It was the stray cat that I adopted!

The cat looked straight to my eyes as if trying to communicate with me. He was unmoving for a while before walking towards the main road.

“No,” Baekhyun tugged my arm when I took a step forward to follow the kitten. “The main road is not safe. We cannot risk—”

“Baekhyun, that’s my cat!” I responded with a high-pitched voice. “We were both inside the wardrobe. I didn’t know that he was here.”

He gritted his teeth, contemplating if he should let me follow the animal to the main road. With his jaw clenched, he exhaled through his nose, holding my hand as we walked to the main road as we followed the cat’s steps.

The tricolor animal was sitting in front of the wardrobe on the side of the road, like he was waiting for me. His huge eyes were on me, and his tail was moving slowly. I stared at the cat for a few seconds until he jumped inside the wardrobe which—surprisingly—the door was opened.

He kept looking at me then meowed when I didn’t move a muscle. Was he asking me to get inside the closet?

I snapped out of thoughts when Baekhyun squeezed my hand he was holding. I looked at him and he had a sad smile on his face, like he was also noticing how the cat was asking me to get inside the wardrobe.

Am I going back to my time?

“Wait—Baekhyun, no,” I choke a sob, “I promised that I’ll stay, I’ll be fine in prison—”

“My love,” Baekhyun cupped my face, pressing his lips on my forehead. “It’s going to be all right. Your safety is my priority. I also promised that I would always come to find you, didn't I? Can you wait until then?”

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, nodding my head while hugging him tight, afraid that it would be the last time I’d see him once I got back to where I really came from. “I love you.”

He smiled sadly, placing a kiss on my lips, a tear escaped from his eye. “I love you, too.”

I was a crying mess when we finally let go of each other. When I went inside the wardrobe, I looked at him for the last time, giving him a smile despite my tear-soaked cheeks. “Please don’t be in love with someone else,” I joked, playfully squinting my eyes on him.

“Please don’t have somebody waiting on you,” he responded, a mischievous grin on his face.

I bit my bottom lip to stop myself from sobbing. I nodded my head, giving him a last smile before closing the door of the wardrobe.

February 20, 2020, 02:00 AM the date and time reads.

I was still sitting inside the wardrobe with the door open when I felt my phone in my hand, when I remembered that I left it inside my room in the staff’s quarters.

Was everything just a dream?

But it was too vivid to be just a dream.

Remembering the picture I took of Baekhyun, I opened my gallery to see if it would be there, but it was nowhere to be found. And when I examined my clothes, I was back in my Winnie the Pooh printed pajamas.

I cried myself to sleep that night. Not because of my parents' constant fighting, or the fact that no one came into my room to comfort me, but because I was slowly being convinced that it was indeed just a dream.

Two years had gone by, and I was about to finish my second year in university.

I decided to major in Aerospace Engineering, minor in Physics. My parents weren’t opposed to the idea, especially when the word Engineering was present in my course. It was goddamn stressful, but I was having fun. I loved learning, and it was one of the few things I was good at.

I met new people in uni but I was still in contact with my high school friends. Due to our busy schedules, we rarely got a chance to catch up.

Wendy, whom I met from freshman year, introduced me to her circle of friends. Her friends weren’t all nice, but most of the time they were bearable. So, I decided, why not stick with them?

Irene, who was the oldest among us, scolded Chaeyoung when the latter, once again, winked at some guy who passed by our table in the cafeteria.

“Do you really have to do that to every person you see who has a dick?” Irene hissed, grabbing Chaeyoung’s chin to make her look straight ahead as she was about to break her neck from following the guy she winked at.

I peeked over my MacBook to see the chaos that was happening at our table. Though it wasn’t new since this usually happens almost every day, it was still entertaining to watch. I shook my head before shifting my focus back on the case study I was working on.

Chaeyoung groaned, slapping Irene’s hand away from her face. “Can you have me my little fun? I’m already stressed enough with schoolwork, please don’t add up.”

Irene scoffed, rolling her eyes on Chaeyoung. “Please! I’ve never seen you read a single paragraph in your course.”

“You did not just say that!” Chaeyoung dramatically gasped. “I do my part in studying, thank you very much. Just because I’m not a nerd like her, you would say that I’m not taking my studies seriously.”

Without even looking up from the screen of my Mac, I commented, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“That’s not nice, Chaeyoung,” Wendy clicked her tongue, glaring at the youngest at the table.

Instead of apologizing, Chaeyoung just rolled her eyes, opening her smartphone to spend her time on her precious social media profile.

I gave Wendy a smile, shaking my head to let her know that I didn’t take it to heart. At first, I was offended whenever Chaeyoung would call me a nerd, or sometimes a pushover, but spending time with them for almost two years, I could say that I got used to it.

Seulgi, who was majoring in Performing Arts came to the table panting as she was running across the hall. I passed her my tumbler while she caught her breath. “Thank you,” Seulgi gave my head a hug, a habit she had of hers.

“So, guys,” Seulgi began, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand after she chugged the iced cold water in my tumbler. “I think I’ve got a date.”

I gasped, abandoning my Mac for a moment to give Seulgi my full attention. Since I was the busiest among us when it comes to studies, I would not always be hanging out with them, and didn’t know all the details about their lives.

I once heard from Wendy that Seulgi had liked her friend. They’ve known each other since they were kids. However, as pessimist Chaeyoung was, I got the information from her that this guy was not interested in any relationship.

“Of course, I already I asked him out,” Chaeyoung easily responded, while rolling her eyes, when she was asked how she knew this detail. “He was cute, alright, but his friends are waaay more handsome. He’s just rich so I asked him out.”

Seulgi had been so afraid to confess her attraction towards this friend of hers, but Wendy and I have been bugging her to do so. Irene... is just being Irene. Do whatever you want, she said.

“And?” Wendy pressed on, eager to know the details from Seulgi. I nodded my head, smiling slyly to let her know that I was interested to know as well.

“Well—it wasn’t like a date as in date,” Seulgi explained, chuckling nervously. “But since it was his senior year, there will be a small celebration in their house tomorrow. He asked me to come...”

“That’s nice!” I squealed while Chaeyoung rolled her eyes.

“I thought he really did ask you to spend the night with him or something.”

Irene had to slap Chaeyoung’s arm so she could shut her mouth and stop ruining Seulgi’s moment.

Chaeyoung whined, rubbing the spot where Irene hit her. “It’s true, though. I mean, good for you, Seul, but he doesn’t date! He told me himself.”

That made me scowl, “Why is that, though? Previous bad relationship? Else, he swings for the same team.”

Chaeyoung, the most exaggerated one she was, clapped her hands, catching the attention of other students. “I thought about that, too! I mean, his hair is pastel pink to begin with! And oh! I heard from someone that he believes that he’s a reincarnation of his great-great grandfather!”

We rarely agree on things, but when Chaeyoung and I do, we were unstoppable. Not when I was interested in after life matters.

“Okay—okay,” Seulgi laughed, raising both of her hands to stop me and Chaeyoung from uttering another nonsense. “He is not gay, alright? And he just has his beliefs that we all need to respect. He was named after his ancestor because of family matter, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

I jutted my bottom lip, guilt crashed through me. “Sorry, Seul. I got excited.”

Seulgi patted my head to let me know that she didn’t mind. Instead of apologizing, Chaeyoung made a face, turning her focus back to her phone.

“Anyway,” Seulgi continued, “would you guys like to come?”

Irene didn’t even waste a second to shake her head, she didn’t like being around men. “No, thanks.” While Chaeyoung pretended that she didn’t hear Seulgi’s offer. That leaves Wendy and I in the fraction.

“I mean,” Wendy shrugged, “I’ll go. I don’t really have anything and since you asked, I’m assuming you need someone to be with?”

Seulgi nodded her head eagerly, faking a cry on Wendy. “Thank you, Wen! You really are my friend.”

I thought I was safe since Wendy already said that she’d go with Seulgi but when I felt two pairs of eyes burning at the side of my head, I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I have a case study to work on.”

Wendy made a face, closing the lid of my Mac, “Yeah, a case study that isn’t due in five weeks.”

Seulgi held my arm, giving me a pleading look. “Please, please. I’ll buy you coffee. I need all the support I can get. This would be a once in a lifetime chance, please.”

Sighing in defeat, I nodded my head, finally agreeing to whatever it may be. “Iced white chocolate mocha with eight pumps of mocha sauce, stirred whipped, and extra caramel drizzle.”

“That’s not a coffee, that’s diabetes in a cup.” Seulgi commented, earning a glare from me.

“Then have fun with Wendy and your pinked hair crush.”

“I’m just kidding!” Seulgi laughed, opening the lid of my Mac so I could continue my work. “Text me your order, that’s too long for me to remember.”

Seulgi didn’t specify if we need to dress up or will there be a dress code for this small celebration of her friend. Wendy and I talked on the phone, and she was stressing out because she remembered Chaeyoung’s words clearly, on how rich this Seulgi’s friend was.

“Oh, my gosh, what if we arrived there in our jeans and dirty sneakers, then the people will be in their tuxedo and evening gown,” Wendy babbled on the line. I was still in campus, having a lecture to attend and had to go straight to the address Seulgi sent on the group chat she created specifically for this event.

I laughed at Wendy’s state, I could hear how she was rummaging in her closet. “It’s going to be fine. We are just going to be there for Seulgi, not to impress anyone. If there would be dress code, we’ll just pretend to be one of the servers then.”

That made Wendy laugh. I heard how she plopped on her bed, groaning on the line. “What are you wearing, anyway? You’re going straight from uni, right?”

I examined my clothes for the day, mentally slapping my face when I chose to wear something so casual, forgetting the fact that we had to attend something in the evening for a moment this morning. “Uh... jeans, loose white t-shirt under a plaid shirt—and oh! An old Nike shoes.”

Wendy’s whined was loud from the other line, I laughed at her reaction, already expecting this kind of reaction from her—or anyone. “Out of all days of the week, why did you dress up like a trucker today?”

“Probably because I had a lecture that goes from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon. I need to be comfortable throughout the day, ever thought of that?”

Wendy continued to whine, and I couldn’t do anything but shake my head, laughing at my friend’s rection. “Just wear any clothes you have. We’re going to be there for Seulgi, that would be the only purpose of our presence. To make you feel better, we’re supposed to look bad so Seulgi would look much prettier. I’m done here and I’ll be on my way in a few.”

I had to take the subway and a bus just to get to the address we were supposed to be at. It was almost an hour travel using public transportation, though the waiting time for the subway and bus was already included in that time frame, but still.

The Map app was opened in my phone as we, Wendy and I, looked for the address. We decided to meet up at the bus station and I was glad since it was awkward to walk in suburb area by yourself, not when the neighborhood was really that high-end.

“I wonder how Seulgi became friends with this guy,” I pondered, looking at my phone for directions.

Wendy linked her arms with mine, needing support as she decided to wear wedge sandals. She didn’t listen and decided to dress herself properly. Although, it was good thing to be presentable. I just felt out of place. It was my fault, anyway.

“I heard that Seulgi’s ancestor had been working for their family since the nineteen hundred.” Wendy answered, pointing to a huge gate that was the pin destination on my phone. Finally.

When we pressed the doorbell, the gate was opened as we mentioned Seulgi’s name. Once we got inside, I saw a house that was too familiar. My voice was stuck in my throat as I stared at the structure longer than I was supposed to.

Wendy called my name when she noticed that I wasn’t responding to her comments about the manor and looked over her shoulder to see me frozen on my spot. “Are you okay?”

I slowly turned my head to her, my index finger pointing to the house at front of the lot. “T-that’s—”

“Oh,” Wendy glanced to where I was pointing at. “The security right there said that it’s where the staff stay. All carts were taken so he said that we need to walk to the main house.”

Right then, my eyes started scanning the place slowly. It was the Byun’s manor. There were some changes, but I knew the place by heart. My heart was thumping inside my chest loudly and my fingers felt clammy.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wendy held my arm; concern was evident in her voice. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”

I forced myself to nod, giving her a tight smile. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

She looked hesitant at first but when I grabbed her arm to walk to the main house, she threw her doubts away as she admired the manor as we walked further into the lot.

I was honestly not feeling well, my head was spinning a little bit, I felt really nauseous, and I wanted to convince myself that it was just a coincidence, that there was no way in hell that it was true, that it really did happen in real life.

Not when I finally truly accepted that it was just a dream.

Not when it took me years to finally move on.

When we were ushered into the main house’s dining hall, there were a few people already conversing with one another. I kept my mouth shut as Wendy tried to look for Seulgi who was already here as she informed.

I sat in the corner of the dining hall while Wendy looked around the place. I felt so out of place, but it didn’t bother me that much since my focus was on how I would cope after this.

Acceptance and moving on were the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life so far. I was unable to eat nor drink water, I was unable to function nor sleep. I didn’t know where I would go. I didn’t have someone to talk to about this.

No one will believe me.

It was a process of healing. Accepting that it didn’t happen. And moving on from the emotions that were built. It took me a long time, but I did it.

But when I wanted to be there for a friend, I didn’t know that it would harm me more than I could ever possibly imagine.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when a butler caught everyone’s attention, that being a special occasion, the family would open the library hall where antiques from their ancestors hundreds of years ago were kept.

Wendy was an Art major, she got excited and pulled me up from the chair I was seating on. “Seulgi said that some of their ancestors were great at painting canvases. Let’s go and see!”

I could only smile at her, not finding the strength to say anything.

The butler would patiently explain something when someone asked. I just followed Wendy around when I noticed that Seulgi was not here with us. “Oh,” Wendy shrugged, rolling her eyes playfully, “she’s with him. She said that she’ll introduce us later.”

I stopped in front of the document that was framed and hung on an empty wall. It was a land title. I was about to walk away from it when something caught my attention.

Was that our home address?

Before I could react further, Wendy hollered my name, asking me to come over as the butler would finally show the paintings she was excited about.

Art is stupid. That was what my dad said, but it was not. Every canvas was beautiful. Even though I basically know nothing about art unlike Wendy, I still appreciated each piece that was displayed on the hall.

I was walking further on the hall that I didn’t even notice that I’ve been separated with Wendy. From paintings, on the other side of the hall where old portraits were displayed. My lips slowly spread into a smile when photos of the old city were displayed.

Observing each photo briefly, my feet brought me to the end of the hall where a black and white photo was taken. There was too much noise, but I know that face.

“San,” my mouth fell open as I let out a deep trembling breath upon recognizing the man who helped me. That’s San. I couldn’t be wrong. I know his hairline as offending it might be. And it’s him.

My chest started to heave but I forced myself to continue observing the portraits, and another photo caught my attention, it was three images merged into a single frame. It was a picture of the wardrobe that was in our attic. It was captured on an empty lot, then the next photo was the same lot, but a house was being constructed on it, then the last picture was when the house had been built completely.

It was my parents’ house.

My hand raised to cover my mouth as I let out a sob. I couldn’t believe this was happening right now. Then I felt my phone vibrate in my hand.

It was notification from iCloud that the syncing of my files was completed. I was confused as I clearly remembered that I turned off the feature to automatically sync my files. I opened the back-up storage and saw the newly added photo.

It was a blurry candid photo of a man in white dress shirt and waistcoat.

Baekhyun.

It was the photo I was looking for two years ago. It did exist.

Then I saw at the very end of the hall where there was something hung on the wall; however, the lights weren’t turned on and there was a stanchion. Despite knowing that it was prohibited for a reason, I decided to follow my instinct and walk towards the stanchion.

A painting was hung, though this side of the hall was dimmed, I could still see the messy painting. A figure hugging her knees, her feet bare, and face hidden on her folded arms, fingers were peeking out and the ring bought from the streets of Hongdae was visible.

The painted character was such a weird interpretation, but it was my Winnie the Pooh pajamas.

That was me.

In the prison cell where I first met Baekhyun.

“Baekhyun,” I whimpered, closing my eyes for a moment, trying to remember his voice, his touch, everything about him.

When I opened my eyes to admire his messy work once more, I noticed the handwriting that was also framed below the painting. I leaned a bit to read what it says.

“My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again.

I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew...

I was Enchanted to meet you.”

I finished reading it with a deep trembling breath, my shoulders were starting to shake for wanting to wail so bad, but I knew I needed to keep it in as I didn’t want to create a scene where a lot of people around.

I wasn’t even given a chance to calm down when I heard my name being called. The voice was Seulgi’s. I plastered a smile on my face, wiping my soaked cheeks with my hand before turning around.

There he was, eyes were already locked on mine.

His eyes whispered, “Have we met?”

Across the room, his silhouette started to make its way to me.

My eyes followed his every movement, from the way his eyes danced around my face to his pink hair that bounced with every step.

I could feel my bottom lip quiver when he stood right in front of my eyes, our orbs locked to each other as Seulgi introduced us.

“He’s the friend I was telling you about!” Seulgi gushed, and I felt bad that I didn’t even acknowledge her presence. “His name is Baekhyun.”

Instinctively, I repeated his name, missing how it felt like saying his name from my lips. “Baekhyun.”

He smiled, gently, and it was the same beautiful smile I had ever seen in my life.

His eyes darted to the painting behind me before shifting his gaze to the ring on my finger which was similar to what was in the painting, then to my face, his orbs danced around my feature. His smile, I was so familiar with, that it could replace my anxiousness with a gentle breeze that soothed my nerves.

“Hey.”

This is me praying that this was the very first page.

Not where the storyline ends.

#byun baekhyun #baekhyun #byun baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x reader #exo #fic rec #the best fic ever I swear to Jesus Christ #exo imagines #long reads

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hannieween · 5 days ago

Text

playing dumb | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: loser jeonghan, grad student jeonghan, grad student reader › genres: fluff, smut (18+) › word count: 6.6k

› 🎧easy – jaehyun | cream soda – exo (lol) | feeling lucky – bibi

› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: smut with little to no plot, dom reader, sub jeonghan, jeonghan is a little pervy, oral fixation, big cock jeonghan, jeonghan is a little bit inexperienced in sex, oral sex, hand job, use of sex toys (cock ring), overstimulation, dacryphilia, early ejaculation, cumming on skin, a bit of hair pulling, dirty talk, a little bit of humiliation kink again, a little bit of praise kink, corruption kink, slight exhibitionism. pet names: pretty boy, baby boy (his) baby (hers)

› acknowledgements: @kwanisms @cheolism @whipped-for-kpop-fics, @junekissed for helping me come up with ideas for this fic, and terminology bits, thank you. i couldn't have done it without u. i love you 🩵

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

JEONGHAN LIFTED HIS ARM IN THE AIR, LETTING OUT A QUIET GRUNT.

“Yes, do you have a question?” the professor asked, seeing his arm in the crowd of people listening to her lecture.

Jeonghan finished yawning, shaking his head. “Just stretching.”

A stillness blanketed the room as your fellow classmates bore their eyes into the man sitting next to you. Shaking your head, you tried hard not to roll your eyes at his lack of correctness, or self-awareness.

Professor Blackwood resumed her lecture, unbothered by the small interruption. Granted, in her years of experience, a restless student like Jeonghan might be inconsequential.

But he was puzzling to you. One look around the room would be sufficient to determine that he was the one standing out from the students sitting in the sloped tiers of the lecture hall.

It was not only his attire, a pastel pink hoodie, gray sweatpants, and a pair of worn white sneakers. But his attitude… his attitude was your biggest gripe with him. While everyone was immersed in the lecture, writing down notes on their tablets or computers, he was absentmindedly toying with the string of his hoodie.

Sometimes, he would shift in his seat, letting out a loud cough that broke the stiltedness of the lecture, or would make the most out of the ordinary question to the professor, causing a pause.

You could tell out of the corner of your eye that he was bored, crossing one ankle on his knee, he had started to shake his foot.

You could have sworn you hated him at that moment, but the lecture was boring if you dared admit it. As much as you had wanted to listen to the lecture, compiling notes and questions for it, it had dragged on.

For one thing, political language in works of fiction wasn't something you had much interest in delving into, so it had been a real disappointment for you to learn that it was boring.

Jeonghan shifted on his seat again, sighing through his nose. He could just get up and leave. But he never did. Part of you believed that he was just too much of a pretentious guy to actually leave, as though he did not want to miss the opportunity to be the most annoying person in the room.

You found yourself sighing too out of boredom, making Jeonghan stir on his seat and direct a quick glance at you. You did not need to use your peripheral vision to know that he was smiling to himself, the quiet exhale told you that much.

“Now moving on to Foucault’s discourse on Orwell’s 1984…” The professor changed slides of the presentation for the third time in the one hour you had been listening and something in you twisted in great annoyance, but you did not let it show.

Jeonghan however had resorted to creating shapeless doodles on the margins of the book splayed on the table. The book was so tattered and beaten that you could not believe it was brand new just a week ago when Jeonghan brought it with him. You had seen him remove the plastic from its shiny cover to proceed then to crack and bend the spine like it was his sworn enemy.

The little or no attention he paid to the books he acquired for the courses was irritating. He would scribble on the pages, underline paragraphs with whatever pen he could get his hands on, and bend the corners of the pages so he would not miss the last one he read. On one occasion, you saw him tear out the first few pages of a book he was reading and then make little paper airplanes.

Even if he wore a different ridiculously oversized hoodie every day, his attitude would catch the attention of anyone who looked around. The rest of the people sitting in the lecture had a different behavior. While everyone, including you, was prim and proper, he was just plain laid back always.

So, why did you have a bone to pick with him? Well, despite his evident boredom, he was top of the class. And you were a little bit of an overachiever. Not only that, ever since Jeonghan discovered how easy it is to get under your skin, he has done it constantly, like it is his favorite pastime.

Jeonghan knew how to get under your skin, and also on it.

You smoothed your hands over your lap, your fingertips brushing at the hem of your pencil skirt. Suddenly, your seat started to grow hot, not quite literally, no. This was a feeling purely set by the thought of Jeonghan being on your skin, just like he was last Friday night.

Jeonghan saw the motion of your hands, your skirt hiked up on your thighs, giving him a view of your skin. He subconsciously stuck a pen between his lips, and you saw the pink tip of his wet tongue, making you press your thighs together. When that did not work, you crossed one leg over, pressing as hard as you could.

The skirt inched up on your thighs. There was a sparkle in his eyes, he was sure your focus was on him now. Memories mixed with fantasies flew inside your head, making it impossible to resume listening to the lecture, now you were lost in wanting, in the need to recreate what you had done on impulse a few nights before.

Jeonghan shifted on his seat, spreading his legs a little. Your eyes widened slightly, the air leaving your lungs upon getting a clear sight of the outline of his growing erection peaking on the gray sweats he wore.

You bit your bottom lip in an attempt to pull yourself together, but instead, your fingers itched to reach out and grab him.

He stilled, reading your body language. For a minute you wondered if he believed you to be capable of grabbing him under the desk and jerking him off in the middle of the lecture. As he pushed his hips forward slightly, you saw how hard he was, his boner leaning on his thigh. He was thinking of the same thing you were.

Now, Jeonghan does not know what got into you that night, but he is thankful as fuck that something did.

Closing your eyes, you exhaled softly through your nose. You hated him. You hated that he knew how to get your attention, whether it was with his stupid behavior during class, or tempting you to tell him to repeat what happened that Friday night.

That Friday night.

All you had to do was film a video for a paired task.

Somehow, everyone had already been paired when you went out looking for any potential partners to do the task. “I’m up for it if you don’t find anyone,” Jeonghan had said timidly.

There was nothing more to his offer, and he was the best in the class, so you thought it could be an opportunity to finally put those unconformities you had with him to rest.

Except that, your little attempt at doing the task failed miserably by a long shot.

It never crossed your mind that you would ever get to see his place. A very simple studio, with everything necessary, but it still looked very minimalist, except for the corner where there were stacks of books against the wall, rising up almost to your height.

You wished to say that one thing led to the other. But you did not know what was going through your head when you gave him a kiss.

Jeonghan was sitting on the floor, trying to read from the set of prompts you had prepared beforehand to make things quicker and finish your paired task. Around him on the floor laid the pages of his copy of Frankenstein, which he had mutilated because it helped him find his notes easier.

This is the guy who practically steals the top-grade award every semester. If he went to another program, you would get those awards.

While Jeonghan’s book remained scattered on the floor, your own Frankenstein copy sat on your lap. It was a hardback, and the only modifications it had suffered were adhesive notes sticking to the corners where you had made note of all the important stuff.

You leaned over on the floor, pretending to take a look at the pages sitting beside his legs. He stole glances at you, thinking that you were perhaps looking elsewhere, at your phone, or your nails like you sometimes do during class.

But no, you were pensively outlining the features of his face. Jeonghan had a thing for biting his bottom lip or pushing his tongue on it. There was a beauty mark adorning his cheek daintily. The heavy set of eyelashes made you envy him a little, but the bitter feeling would fade every time his eyes found yours.

Jeonghan was truly one of the most beautiful people you have ever seen. He used his fingers to tuck a rebellious strand of hair behind his ear, stealing another glance at you. He was nervous, you could tell from the way his breath sounded shaky as he let out another exhale through his nose.

You have seen him play with his tongue a lot before. Besides constantly licking his lips, he tends to stick the tip of his pen between his lips, keeping the tip of his tongue pushed out between his teeth. It was distracting, but not for the right reasons.

Sometimes, your mind would wander during class with thoughts about the places you would want to feel that tongue. Other times, when he fidgeted a lot with his hands, you would think about his fingers, his knuckles brushing against places you wanted him to feel.

“Jeonghan,” you blurted, commanding his eyes to you as you leaned over to him, knowing that would give more access to his gaze to wander over your cleavage. “I know you’re not reading that, look at me.”

The intrigue in his eyes was also nearly palpable in the room. Part of you could not really believe what you were about to do, you wondered for how long you had felt like this for Jeonghan. You were about to find out.

“What?” he frowned slightly, his gaze trying to read you but getting no clarity. The tips of his ears were red, and you noticed then, they got red whenever he talked to you. Or any girl for that matter.

“Look at me,” you repeated, but his eyes were already on you, trying to figure you out. There was something about him, maybe it was the stupid clothes he wore, or that he got a nervous stutter whenever you were near him.

Maybe it was the fact that you found it cute that he refused to wear his glasses to school, forced to squint at the board every time. Or that you thought it adorable to find out that behind him he had a collection of mini figurines on his desk.

The truth was, there was something about Yoon Jeonghan. Maybe it was the ridiculous yellow hoodie he was wearing that night, or that he got nervous every time you went near him.

Jeonghan was a loser. And you kind of liked that about him.

“Do you want to fuck?”

His pretty eyes widened in shock, but he tried to mask it off quickly, blinking a couple of times without looking anywhere else but your face. “What?” he asked quietly and very slowly, as if he was not sure of what he heard, of having hallucinated what you said.

“Do you want to fuck?” you repeated, dragging out the words for him with a small cooing tone. As you said each word, his gaze went over the features of your face, his eyes widening once again when you finished uttering the question.

“Wh-what about the assignment?” he stuttered, visibly trying to keep his cool.

“I’m bored. And we could finish it later,” you shrugged slightly, putting on your best confident face. Part of you found it cute that his first instinct was to ask about the assignment, and not why you wanted to fuck him all of a sudden.

Jeonghan paused to ponder, and you could see on his face that the gears in his brain had begun to turn. “Are you kidding me?” he stuttered, licking his lips anxiously. “Is this some sort of trick?”

You replied by giving him a soft smile, tilting your head to one side. “Sit on the bed,” you whispered, close enough to his face that you could see each of his individual lashes.

At the sound of your command, Jeonghan could not resist himself any further. Whatever protest he had thought, he brushed them all away with a blink of his pretty eyes. He rose to his feet, turned away and sat on the bed, his hands placed neatly on his lap.

Now it was your turn to contemplate him for a second. “How would I be tricking you?” you mused, getting to your feet to stand in front of him.

He raised his gaze to meet yours, his mouth parting slightly as he swallowed nervously. “I-I don’t know, I…” he blinked slowly, smiling in pure shyness at his own stuttering. “Why would you want to f-fuck me?”

“Mm,” you hummed, inching closer to him so you could reach out and hold his face. “Like I said I’m bored,” you mumbled, bringing up a finger to touch the tip of his nose. “And you, Jeonghan, are terribly skittish… it’s nagging.”

“Sorry,” he said hoarsely, clearing his throat, blinking repeatedly as you dragged the pad of your finger to caress his cheek. “I-I still don’t get why-,”

“Don’t play coy, Jeonghan, it doesn’t suit you,” you smirked, enjoying the way he trembled beneath the tip of your finger. “I think you’re cute.”

“Cute?” he chuckled dryly, his gaze falling far in the room as if he were directing it to an imaginary camera behind you in sheer incredulity. “What the fuck?”

But his eyes found your face again when you sunk your fingers, threading his long dark hair from the crown of his head and then back. “I can’t really ignore the way you’ve been staring at my tits, Jeonghan, and I am in a bit of a giving mood.”

“Oh god,” he mouthed, shaking as his hands clutched the bedcovers beneath him. “Wh-what—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look-,”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off with a low coo. “You can stare, Hannie. In fact, tonight you can do more than that.”

“Wh-what?” he repeated slowly. “More?”

You nodded, smiling gently at the confusion plastered on his face. Driving that confusion deeper, your fingers coiled in his hair, giving a tug. “Do you want to kiss me, Jeonghan?”

His eyes immediately traveled to your lips, giving you a small nod with his head. “Yeah, I do,” he said faintly.

You smirked, trying to mask your own nervousness. “Don’t move,” you whispered, looking at his eyes and then his lips before dipping your head to meet his mouth with your own.

As you had intuited before: he was a good kisser. The slow and gentle pressing of your lips against his was matched in an instant in the same manner. Helping yourself with your hands on his hair, you tilted his head back, hugging his lips with your own in a deeper kiss. He hummed, which led you to think that he liked that.

“That was good,” you mumbled, pulling back to see his dark eyes glimmering.

You stopped cradling his head with your hands, taking them to your chest where you slowly started to undo each button of your dress shirt. His eyes followed your fingers as they trailed further down, your shirt parting to show your white lace bra.

“Oh, look at you,” you mumbled mockingly. “Hard already. Just by seeing my bra?”

Jeonghan shifted on his bed, his parted legs gave you the sight of the erection tenting his grey sweats. The tips of his ears could not get redder, and you saw how he trembled slightly due to a hard shudder coursing through him.

You allowed the dress shirt to fall from your shoulders and to the floor, uncovering your chest for his view. His mouth parted, and for a moment you thought he meant to say something but never found the courage to do it.

So you made it easier for him. “Do you want to touch me, Jeonghan?” you mumbled sweetly, tucking a strand of dark hair beneath his ear.

He appeared to be unable to speak, his gaze fighting to stay on your face instead of your tits bulging beneath your bra. “Ye-yes,” he whispered, wasting no time and raising his hands to cup your tits over your bra.

He did it sloppily, his fingers shaking slightly over the lacey hem of the cup of your bra. He licked his lips again, raising his eyes to meet yours, a question written on his bright eyes.

“I’ll give you another kiss if you unclasp my bra,” you mumbled with the ghost of a smirk on your face.

His throat bobbed, a silent groan escaping him before his hands circled your back, fingers desperately searching for the hook of your bra.

“It’s on the front, Jeonghan,” you whispered with a soft smile.

“Oh…” he blurted with a nervous giggle, moving his hands to the front, looking at the intricate hook before giving it a try and unclasp it. “Ho-how do you do it? Like this?” he asked innocently, his fingers going around the clasp, undoing it by pure luck.

The bra came off, freeing your tits in a nearly obscene way. Jeonghan blinked as you slid your bra down your arms, making you smile wider at the shocked look on his face.

His eyes coasted from your face to your neck, from your collarbones to your chest. It was then that he pushed his tongue on his lower lip, right before sinking his teeth into it.

You grabbed his hands, taking them to your chest. His eager fingers squeezed your tits gently at first, a sigh escaping him when his hands came into contact with your skin. “You’re so warm,” he muttered softly.

“You’re cold,” you giggled, a shudder coursing through you when his fingers experimentally pinched your sensitive nipples.

“Sorry, I could just…” he whispered, making an attempt to remove his hands.

“No, it’s okay,” you mumbled, grabbing his face again, your fingers tangling in his mane of dark hair. “You deserve a kiss,” you said, keeping your touch gentle as you leaned down to kiss him again.

You felt the sharp intake of breath right as your lips touched his, he closed his lips on yours in a wet kiss. Jeonghan moved his hand to your waist, making you stiffen slightly under his cold touch.

Brushing his hair back, you moved a hand to hold his chin, while the other rested on his shoulder. “Are you ready for more?” you asked.

“Yeah, I want to keep going,” he replied with a weak tone.

“If you want to stop, you can say anything and I will,” you told him with seriousness coating your words.

He nodded, considering your proposition before saying: “We could establish a safeword.”

You arched one eyebrow, about to ask him if he was experienced in that. “How-,”

“I watch a lot of porn,” he explained hurriedly, noticing your expression. “I should also mention that I’m clean, and I have condoms… though they’re already expired,” he finished with a frown.

“That’s okay,” you chuckled, letting go of his chin. “I’m also clean, and on birth control. Well, what is your safeword?”

His eyes swam upwards, looking at the ceiling before returning to you. “Quixotic.”

You gave him a bemused look. “Can I ask why?”

“Because this is what it is, unreal. No one would believe me if I ever dared to tell a soul about this...” he said, his gaze trailing from your face down to your semi-naked body in front of him.

“Alright, baby boy,” you sighed, pleased with his reaction. “Are you okay with this, then?”

“A thousand percent,” he blurted, a shy smile adorning his face.

“I’m going to start undressing you now,” you said, carefully grabbing the sides of his hoodie.

“Ye-yeah, okay, go ahead,” he said, and you noticed that the stutter came and went. But he raised his arms, allowing you to remove his hoodie. He wore nothing beneath it, so you encountered his sleek torso.

“Lie down,” you instructed next, running your palms from his chest down, enjoying that his eyes were on you all the time, not losing a moment.

You searched around the room, spotting the mini figurines on his desk. They were hand-painted, and you assumed that they were special edition collectibles. “You have a lot of toys, Jeonghan,” you mumbled. “Did you put them all together?”

“Yes,” he croaked nervously. “All of them.”

“Such skilful hands,” you smirked, relishing in the awed look on his face upon being showered by your genuine praise. “Do you have more toys that you would want to show me?”

“Sh-sh-show you?” he whispered, and part of you believed for a second that he was unable to bring his voice any louder.

“Do you have toys for me to play around with? With you?” you asked, giving him a knowing look.

He gave you a perplexed look. “How did you know I-,”

“It’s not hard to guess, Hannie,” you tilted your head to one side, pouting slightly. “I mean, you don’t have a lot of girls over, do you? Do you go after other girls that aren’t me?”

“No. No,” he emphasized firmly. “You’re the first girl I’ve brought over in… like forever.”

“Mmn,” you hummed, pleased with his answer but not letting it show. “Well, tell me where I can find these toys,” you mumbled sweetly, littering lips with small, taunting kisses.

“In my drawer,” he choked out. “Bedside table.”

“Alright,” you leaned over, placing a sweet kiss on his bottom lip. “Don’t move,” you ordered, getting off the bed and his lap, to circle the bed, his gaze following you.

You smirked when you noticed that the only part of his body that moved was his eyes.

You opened the drawer, finding a bottle of lube that was already spent halfway through, a bunch of condoms that were indeed expired, and toys. “You have a wide variety here,” you pointed, giving him a look. “Do you play with yourself often?”

“Y-yeah,” he closed his eyes in shame. “Like I said, I don’t bring a lot of people over.”

“Mmmn,” you hummed, pretending to be pondering what to pick. Jeonghan indeed had a lot of toys, ranging from cock rings, dildos, fleshlights, and vibrators. “What shall I pick for tonight?”

“T-tonight? You mean there will be more nights like this?” he stammered uncontrollably.

“Only if you behave tonight,” you conditioned with a small smirk, but deep down you knew that he was going to be perfect for you.

And that was almost maddening.

“Pick whatever you prefer, I’m down,” he said, and you saw him grow a little bit more confident.

“I have an impression that you’re into cock rings,” you smirked at him, looking at the variety of cock rings he owned, some with vibrators, some without. You grabbed a simple set of two adjustable cock rings, which were slick and black.

Jeonghan shifted slightly on the bed as you returned to him, placing each of your knees on the sides of his hips. His hands tentatively found your hips, grabbing you over your skirt. “God,” he whispered to himself when you lowered the weight of your body on top of him, sitting on top of him.

It was then that you noticed by feeling his erection just how big he was. You shot him a look that told him you were impressed. “Jeonghan-,”

“I’d advise you to hurry,” he said, trembling slightly under your weight.

You emitted a nervous giggle despite yourself. “Don’t tell me you finish fast,” you said with a mocking tone, trying your best to mask your awe. You ground your hips, pressing your ass down on his bulge.

“Fuck,” he gritted with a tiny tone, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you mumbled sweetly, leaning over to prop a light kiss on his bottom lip. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Hannie. In fact, we can have more fun with that.”

He blinked twice, a frown appearing on his face. “What? How?”

You brushed his cheek with the back of your finger, finishing by cupping his chin. “I could put this on you,” you motioned to the cock ring in your hand, “and I’ll have fun making you come again and again until you can’t anymore.”

An exhale escaped him, his eyes widening once again. “Fuck, please, yes, yes, please do that,” he blurted quickly, much as if he could not contain himself.

“Want me to use you, Hannie?” you asked, realizing that you had hit a weak point for him.

His eyelashes fluttered, a small choked-out sound coming from his lips. “Yes, please... use me.”

You smiled, pleased with his answer. “Let’s put this on you, baby boy,” you said, moving from his lap to stand before the foot of the bed. Hooking your fingers on the band of his sweat, you dragged them down his legs, leaving him with his white briefs only.

“Mmn,” you hummed quietly, looking at the way his erection was tenting his underwear.

Slowly, you tugged the fabric down, Jeonghan bit his bottom lip, keeping his gaze on your expression. The band of his briefs inched down, and his cock sprung free, resting on his lower abdomen.

Fuck. He was big, even bigger than you imagined when you felt him. You would take a while adjusting to his size, you knew it. Your mouth salivated at the thought, the thought of riding him raw, the thought of making him come inside you, over and over again. You wanted to make him yours, to ruin him.

“Let’s take this slow, yes?” you said primly, pressing a knee on the bed and between his legs to lean down and press kiss on his pretty lips.

“No, please, don’t take it slow,” he choked out, a hand sneaking beneath your skirt to feel your hip.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you emphasized with a smirk. “That bad you want me already?”

He nodded his head eagerly. “Suck me, fuck me, I don’t care, just have your fun with me,” he pressed, removing his hand from your hip.

“What if my kind of fun is to torture you slowly?” you tested him, studying him with your eyes.

His lower lip trembled slightly when you slid your hand from his chest down his abdomen. “I d-don’t wanna come too soon,” he said, cursing under his breath when your fingertip reached his pubic hair.

“Could you come untouched, then?” you wondered, quirking an eyebrow.

“I don’t know. Right now I feel like I could,” he replied.

You gave him a soft laugh. “Oh, I’m going to have fun with you,” you assured.

“Please do.”

Your fingers inched further down, circling around his shaft. A strangled gasp left him, his breath brushing against your lips, reciprocating your quick kiss as you started jerking him off slowly, exploring his cock. “You know how many times I fantasized about this?” you asked with a low tone.

“This?” he closed his eyes. “I don’t know, once?”

“You constantly get on my nerves, Jeonghan,” you rolled your hand on his cock, smearing him all over with his precum leaking from its slit. “I wanted to have you like this since you started sitting next to me.”

“Really?” he breathed with the ghost of a smile. “I knew it.”

“You planned it?”

“I didn’t plan shit,” he blurted with a hollow laugh. “I hoped. I hoped you looked at me, I wanted to talk to you, but never could.”

The movement of your hand stilled. “All the things you did to nag me, you didn’t do them on purpose?”

“Not at first, no. I promise,” he smirked innocently. “I just noticed that you would pay attention to me, so I started to do it more frequently.”

Shock buried itself deep within you, making the features of your face go lax, and your mouth opened wide in shock. “Oh, you bad boy,” you whispered reproachingly, switching to a wide smile.

You moved back so you could get a better view of his body, his cock still in your hand. You were stroking him gently, but he was hard for you, his tip reddened and leaking precum as you had never seen another do.

“Yeah,” he said softly, noticing the light shock on your face. “Please hurry.”

“Alright,” you conceded at last, moving the cock ring on his shaft, adjusting it firmly to his girth, then you did the same to his ballsack. “How is that?” you asked with a gentler tone.

“I can take more,” he said, his brown eyes absorbing you.

“There?” you asked, adjusting the ring to strangle him a bit more.

“Ye-yeah,” he breathed, shifting on the bed in nervousness. “Fuck,” he said under his breath when you continued stroking him with one hand, checking him for any signs of discomfort but only finding pleasure on his face.

His mouth dropped open, his eyes fluttered before shutting, and his throat throbbed as he swallowed.

You leaned over, smirking to yourself before you gave him a broad stroke to his long shaft with your tongue.

“Fuck!” he forced out, his eyes snapping open.

You laughed, licking the reddened cockhead, picking up the precum that was leaking from the slit. Jeonghan was a babbling mess, trembling on his bedcovers, breathing raggedly. His face was priceless, scrunched up in utter bliss, his cock covered in your drool.

You teased the swollen ridge of his head with the tip of your tongue, licking it playfully with swift jabs, a hand squeezing his balls gently, the other stroking his long shaft, pushing him further for his early release.

What caught your attention was that he made no move to touch your head or your hair. His hands balled into fists, clenching the bedcovers in an attempt to hold a little longer.

But you continued pumping him with one hand, ignoring the way his eyes widened. Circling his cockhead with your lips, you began sucking it as you would a popsicle, making slurping sounds. You teased him like this, making you with the bulbous head of his cock, holding his gaze with your own.

The expressions he made were priceless, his mouth open, his eyes coasting from yours to your lips on him, to your hand pumping him.

“Ah–fuck, do-don’t—I’m gonna, I’m gonna, g-god,” he murmured quickly but gave you enough time to remove your mouth from his head.

It was too late, a long and pleased sigh left him as ropes of cum spurted from his tip, and just kept coming, dripping from his slit down to his shaft, covering your fingers around him. You cussed with a sigh, looking at the warm mess coating your hand, the beads of cum scattered on his lower abdomen.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he drawled pathetically, closing his eyes tightly. “Fuck, it just feels so good,” he said, mouthing apologetic words over and over.

“You’re good, baby,” you hushed, noticing the furious red tinting the tip of his ears in shame. “Can I keep going?”

He gulped before nodding with his head. “Yes,” he croaked, but his eyebrows drew inward slightly. “I want you to feel good too.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, stroking his shaft with your dirty hand, smearing him with cum all over. “I’m having fun.”

“But-but…” he trailed off when you moved, climbing down the bed.

Putting on a show, you finished undressing before him, removing your skirt and your ruined panties with your dainty fingers, leaving your high-knee socks on purpose. You climbed back on the bed, moving towards him, placing each knee at his sides on the bed.

Jeonghan just fell into a deeper fascination. You saw it on his face, how his features fell upon the sight of you utterly naked and on top of him.

“I said don’t worry,” you mumbled, stroking him gently again with your hand, enjoying that his cock was still hard. “I can make myself feel good, and you’re going to help me with that.”

“How?” he croaked.

“Well, we agreed that I’d use you, no?” you cooed softly. “And I want to suck you and ride you until you’re spent.”

His hands searched for you, his fingers caressing your legs, feeling you up timidly. He gave you a tiny nod with his head, unable to utter a word.

“You want that, baby?” you muttered, his cum already cooled in your hand but you just kept going. “You came so much, Hannie… I want you to do that when you’re inside me.”

“I-I… fuck. I want that too—all of that,” he said, now building up confidence. “I want to feel you, please?”

“Not before you come again like this,” the motion of your hand-picked up some speed, your fingers tightening around his shaft.

“No, please, please, I need to feel you,” he closed his eyes, tears falling from the corners when you moved back to wrap your mouth around his sensitive cockhead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, no, no…”

He sucked in a breath, the grunts spilling from his lips only egging you on. You sucked him harshly, tasting his cum with your tongue pressed to the tip, hollowing your cheeks out as your hand kept pumping him relentlessly.

The ring helped keep his erection for longer, but something inside you told you that he could do this even without it. A cunning thought told you that he would be a great sub for you with little training.

“Too much,” he breathed without complaint, there was an elated smile on his face as he sank his head back onto the pillows. “God… ah, please…”

Instinctively, you removed your mouth from his cockhead just as ropes of cum spurted from its reddened tip. Jeonghan tensed and writhed on the bedcovers, choked-out sobs falling from his parted lips. You moved your lips to kiss his shaft, as more beads of cum dripped down.

“Thank you… Fuck, that was amazing,” he croaked languidly, opening his eyes.

With a shudder in excitement, you noticed the clumped eyelashes, and the tears falling from the corners of his pretty eyes. You realized then, that Jeonghan would become your obsession.

His cock started to go soft in your hand, but somehow you knew that it would not take him too long before he was ready for round three.

“You did amazing, baby. Let’s take this off for now,” you mumbled sweetly, arranging your fingers to get the ring off him, not paying attention to the mess smeared all over him and your hands. The dirtier the better.

And it seemed like Jeonghan shared the same fascination. He bit his lower lip, much as if he could not resist it.

“Can I ask you something?” his tone was low, but timid at the same time.

“Sure,” you conceded with a small smile.

“Did you know that I like you?” he asked, his voice shaking so much that he ended with a mere whisper.

“No,” you replied with honesty, getting a tingling feeling inside you, blooming into a shudder.

“Really?” he cocked his head on the bedcover. “So what would you have done if I had rejected your advances?”

You paused, sitting on top of his messy abdomen. You coughed up a low chuckle, shrugging with ease. “Then I would have moved on,” you blinked at him slowly, enjoying the dazed look in his eyes. “I guess I hoped that you liked me too.”

He clicked his tongue softly negating with his head as he said, “Insane… this is insane.”

You found yourself smiling broadly at him, your chest swelling with endearment for him. You brought a clean hand to pinch his chin, and he instinctively opened his mouth, biting the tip of your finger softly, the act so innocent that it made you chuckle.

A rush coursed through you upon having his wet tongue on your fingers, but you were distracted swiftly, noticing that he had grown hard again. “I take that you’re ready for me?”

“Fuck… yes,” he whispered with a mischievous smile.

“What’s that?” you arched one eyebrow.

He made a small motion to shake his head. “Nothing...” he said, but then he reconsidered, “So I mangled a copy of Frankenstein and that was it for you? Should I do it more often?”

“No,” you deadpanned, the conversation suddenly turning serious to you. “I hate what you do to books… But you know what? Maybe.”

“Ah, okay, okay,” he laughed, his breath hitching when you repositioned your hips on him, aligning your pretty pussy with his long dick. “Fuck,” he gritted, shooting you an exasperated look. “Raw?”

“Only if you want it, Hannie,” you cooed softly, grabbing his shaft. “If not, I’m okay with you eating me out.”

“I haven’t actually given head before,” he blurted, anxiously gripping your hips in anticipation, but then he gave you a nod with his head. “I want it, please, I want to feel you.”

You smiled at him. “Oh, you really are perfect,” you sighed, shifting on top of him, enjoying his gaze on your body, right where you were about to meet with his cock. You slipped the tip of his cock between your folds, teasing yourself and him a little.

“Ssshit,” he hissed, moving on the bed anxiously, but his dark eyes were still on your pussy, waiting for you to give him what he desperately wanted.

His hands clenched on the soft skin of your hips, his fingernails digging into you so harshly you knew you would leave marks in a few minutes.

“Don’t make me tie you,” you said, your tone quivering slightly. It was then when you paid attention to your own body, the way you were aching to feel him, to feel the stretch his long cock would make you feel, you wanted to know how deep he could reach inside you.

“Another night, maybe?” he teased, mustering some courage.

Your heart fluttered upon seeing a tint of attitude behind that tiny, but devilish smirk. “Another night…” you conceded, pushing his cock with your fingers so that its bulbous head met your entrance, your mouth instantly falling open when you started to ease down on his long and veiny shaft.

“God,” he whispered.

“Oh, Jeonghan!” you cried, sinking down on him with a raw and drawn-out moan. You continued to sit down on him, shuddering as his dick stretched your walls deliciously, making you take your other hand to stroke your clit in gentle motions to ease the slight sting.

“Well, that is all the time I have for you today,” Professor Blackwood called loudly as your fellow classmates stood from their chairs, dragging them across the floor loudly, snapping you awake from the memory.

You jolted quite embarrassingly, licking your lips in an attempt to bring the muscles of your face alive. Realizing that had been fantasizing about Jeonghan for the remainder of the lecture, you could feel that your panties were soaked, and sticking to your throbbing core.

Jeonghan did not move from his seat either. He was bouncing a knee, sharing the same tension you were feeling, he shot you a knowing look.

“My place or yours?” you smirked.

› author's note: HEYOOOOOO

it's finally here! i am sorry it took me so long, the last 10 days of october kicked my ass 😭😭😭😭 i am still recovering from those days lol

it also took me a while to write this one because i can't for the life of me, imagine jeonghan as a loser because to me he is the coolest human being on earth. even if he is a loser at times, i just can't, he is the coolest to me :3

also, remember his iconic s-s-s-s-say the name ? that is what i pictured whenever i wrote that hannie stuttered 😭

anyway, that is it. i'll come back with more hannieween fest fics and maybe i'll post lights out soon hehehehe

toodles! thank you so so much for your support! 🙂

support me on ko-fi? 🥹🩵

#jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x reader #svthub #kvanity #thediamondlifenetwork #svt smut #hannieween's kinktober #yoon jeonghan fanfic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #yoon jeonghan x you #jeonghan fanfic #jeonghan fic #hannieween #hannieweenfest

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rosie-rosem · 2 years ago

Text

about me

hi, i'm rosie, '04

I'm not going to be sharing a lot of personal info but I will share some things about me.

I love kpop, i stan so many groups haha.

I stan groups like; enhypen, bts, txt, seventeen, stray kids. I'm also fan of; nct, itzy, le sserrafim, blackpink, twice, astro, p1harmony, monsta x, ateez, new jeans, stayc, &team, the boyz, exo, superm + more

i love reading and writing

i love the beach, especially the sound of it

after learning a small bit about me, i hope you will feel more comfortable with me

thanks for stopping by, here's a smile to brighten your day :)))

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lovelyhan · 2 years ago

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— down bad (so so bad) ⟢

it’s not like you’re curious about how the word would taste in your mouth whenever seungcheol calls himself daddy while talking to kkuma. nope. definitely not.

★ FEATURING; seungcheol x pet-sitter!reader (ft. exo's sehun just 'cause LOL)

★ WORD COUNT; 5.7k words

★ TAGS; friends to lovers, lots of denial, a twinge of fluff, smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; if u see me reposting this for the third time, no you didn't!!!!! JDKFGDJFKGGH i'm so sorry i should be working on one last enemies 2 lovers request, but the influx of kkuma content in seventeen street got the better of me,,

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; getting caught, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, dom!seungcheol, praise kink, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty thing, princess), reader is touch-starved AF

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi - @asjkdk - @stariightjoyy - @jiniesclub

★ SEUNGCHEOL TAGLIST; @changk6un - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx - @noveniadelia

You spend a lot of time convincing yourself it’s not a big deal.

Because it most definitely isn’t. You live in a part of the city where there just happens to be a lot of idol and celebrity residences nearby, and ever since you’ve established yourself as a pretty decent pet-sitter, they’ve been enlisting your services much more than you initially expected.

But for some reason, every time the leader of that boy group whose dorm is right across the street comes to you with the most spoiled baby princess in his arms, it suddenly becomes a big deal. A huge, ginormous, larger-than-life—

“Hey.” Seungcheol grins, already dressed for today’s schedule from the looks of it. “I heard Sehun-hyung dropped off his dog yesterday, but we kinda have to squeeze in a last-minute shoot this afternoon, so…”

As if privy to the mention of his name, Sehun’s dog—a Bichon named Vivi—barks from your living room. He takes a peek behind the entryway to curiously peer at who’s at the door, but doesn’t make any moves to come out altogether. His presence makes Seungcheol’s dog, Kkuma shrink into her owner’s arms, almost whining.

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that. You’ve played with Vivi before, right?” Seungcheol coos and you have to stifle a laugh at how he adjusts the pretty bow on her head before turning back to you. “So, uh, is it alright to double book you? I’ll be back for her tonight. Promise.”

Normally, you would’ve refused. Though you work from home, you don't want your attention spread too thin when you’re looking after a client’s pet. This is one of the main reasons why you mostly just pet-sit one at a time, but it’s as if the universe is intent on using your silly attraction to Choi Seungcheol against you—your usual terms and conditions be damned.

“Yeah, I think Sehun’s picking up Vivi later this afternoon, so it’s no big deal,” you reassure him before petting Kkuma affectionately. “You wanna go on a walk with Vivi later, Kkuma?”

Seungcheol told you once that his precious daughter is extremely picky about who gets to pet her and who should maintain a one-meter distance at all times. So when Kkuma has obviously taken a liking to you right off the bat, he knew she was in safe hands. Not to mention the assortment of positive reviews he’s heard about you from other idol friends in passing—he’d be an idiot not to ask for your help when you literally live right across the street.

Lucky him that you’ll do anything for him if it meant you could have the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol right at your doorstep—flashing you that adorable, dimpled smile before he drops off or picks up his only child from your care.

Not like he has to know any of that, of course.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Seungcheol groans with relief, shifting Kkuma into your arms before patting her head reassuringly. “My dad was supposed to pick her up from the dorms today, but something came up at home and he couldn’t make the trip. I owe you big time.”

You chuckle at his gratefulness all while your heart swells as Kkuma nuzzles your chest. What an adorable little thing. “You know my bank account, Seungcheol-ssi.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “I know you’re just messing around but really, you can call me Cheol. I think I’ve called in enough favors from you to be familiar at least.”

“Those aren’t favors, Cheol. You literally pay me three times more than you have to whenever Kkuma comes over,” you half-jest, startling a little when you notice Vivi circling your legs as he tries to sniff at the dog in your arms. “Anyway, shoo! Won’t you be late for your schedule? I’m sure a playdate with Vivi is just what Kkuma needs to kill the time.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he sighs before leaning forward to take Kkuma’s face in both of his large hands—pressing a loving kiss on top of her head. “You better be good, okay? Oh, I’m gonna miss you so much, baby.”

Kkuma’s tail wags at her father’s blatant affection and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face. No matter how many times Seungcheol baby talks to his kid before taking his leave, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing such a side of him up close.

“Daddy’s gonna be back for you tonight. Promise. Oh, by the way, her vet put her on a sodium-free diet for a while, so don’t give her any treats. And…”

As Seungcheol fusses about Kkuma’s newly imposed feeding schedules and hands you a backpack full of pet care necessities, you find yourself zoning out—your head ringing with that one word that’s always made you a little flustered every time you heard it from Seungcheol’s mouth.

“You get any of that?”

You blink, acutely aware of how Vivi has stood up on his hind legs, pawing at your thigh as he attempts to lick Kkuma’s face. When you realize that you’re just standing there like an idiot as Seungcheol waits for a response, you let out a dry laugh before setting Kkuma down on the floor.

“Yep, I only have to feed her once. Strictly two scoops. Not that I see you sticking to the feeding regimen though,” you tease while receiving the backpack from him.

“You got me,” Seungcheol chuckles again. “Can’t ever say no to my princess when she gives me the puppy eyes and asks for another scoop. Luckily, you’re the one looking after her today, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

Once Seungcheol finally takes his leave, you let out a long-winded sigh—pressing your back against your front door as Kkuma looks up at you with those big, dark eyes. Vivi seems to have made his way back to the living room after the initial curiosity and you’re glad that you don’t have to round up two energetic pups when your heart is still pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, Kkuma walks up to you, nuzzling your leg with a whine.

Laughing, you sink to your knees to give her a few scratches underneath her ears. Dogs can be so attuned to a human’s emotional distress, it’s a little amazing.

“What does it feel like to be able to call him daddy?” you joke as she lays on her back for some belly rubs that you have no problem giving.

The moment the question slips from your lips, you find yourself groaning again as you recall the tight fit of the black turtleneck Seungcheol was wearing today. How it accentuated all the features the fabric was meant to emphasize. You can only imagine how it would feel like to be caged in those big, beefy arms—

Kkuma jolts from her comfortable position on the floor when you suddenly shoot back to your feet, but you only feel half as bad for startling her.

You’re down bad. So ridiculously bad.

Sehun comes over to pick up Vivi about an hour after you got home from their walk.

Like most of your clients, he usually shoots a text before dropping by, but he must’ve forgotten the usual protocol. So when you hear your doorbell go off while you’re in the middle of watching idol fancams on your TV, the internal panic is very much warranted.

Vivi bounds straight into his owner’s arms the moment Sehun comes through the door and starts licking his face. You smile to yourself despite clearly looking disheveled from how comfortably you’ve been lounging in the living room, but you’re sure Sehun doesn’t mind.

“Oh? He’s got a little playmate?” He raises an eyebrow when Kkuma waddles over to help herself to some of his attention too. Despite how he looks, Sehun gives Kkuma a few pats. “Hmm… Isn’t this Seungcheol’s kid? Or is it Seungkwan’s? Mingyu’s? Their dogs look all the same to me sometimes.”

You snort before handing him Vivi’s bag of necessities that every doting pet owner has up their arsenal. “You were right the first time. I’ve never pet sat for Mingyu before and I’m sure Seungkwan’s dog is in Jeju with his family.”

He nods in understanding before locking Vivi’s leash in place. “I see. Wouldn’t be surprised if they started to have you look after their pets too, though.”

When Sehun’s all set, you both discuss payments and he gives you his word that he’ll have the money wired into your account when he gets back to his place. But just when you’re about to send him and Vivi off, he pauses—glancing at something behind your shoulder.

Curious, you whip around to see what caught his attention and—

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” you stammer before throwing your arms out as if that’ll obstruct the view this six-foot idol has of your television screen. “I left YouTube on autoplay and I guess it paused when you arrived, and…”

Lies. You were in the middle of watching every single one of Seungcheol’s fancams before Sehun arrived and paused whatever was playing on screen. It just so happens that it slipped your mind that the screen froze at a very tantalizing part of his HOT fancam.

You’re not sure how you’re going to explain to Sehun that you don’t usually watch your clients' fancams like some closeted fan, but thankfully, he’s always been discreet about a lot of things.

“Right,” he says, obviously unconvinced but seems that he won’t press further. “Well, we’re gonna head out now. Jongin-hyung might give you a call in the next few days, by the way. He’ll be busy promoting his solo debut for a while and Kyungsoo-hyung’s growing tired of all the fur in his apartment.”

You nod swiftly, glad to have another business prospect right after this one just concluded. “Gotcha. See you again, Sehun.”

Once you’re all alone, you carry Kkuma to the living room—laying her down on the plush cushions of your couch before plopping helplessly right next to her. Thank god it’s Sehun who unknowingly bore witness to something so embarrassing. If it was Jongin, he never would’ve let you live it down.

But instead of wallowing in your shame, you unpause the video on screen—watching Seungcheol’s fancam in front of his daughter without another thought.

Kkuma doesn’t seem all too interested, immediately curling herself into a ball right next to you before promptly dozing off. You don’t get to see it though, since your eyes are glued to the screen.

Surely the jury won’t condemn you too badly for biting the inside of your cheek whenever Seungcheol sticks his tongue out with a smirk, right? This is an idol who’s spent nearly a decade in the industry—if not more. Of course he’s got the art of fanservice ingrained into his bones.

But just when you told yourself that this is the last one you’re going to watch before hopping in the shower, you end up viewing a couple more of his fancams first until you make do on that self-imposed promise.

This one’s a clip from their most recent fan meeting, you think. A DON QUIXOTE performance that’s been circulating around social media for the better part of the month. While you’re not that well-versed in their group’s discography, you happen to like this song a lot specifically because of how raspy Seungcheol’s voice is whenever he raps his parts.

When he decides to unclasp a piece of fabric that’s been getting in the way of choreography, you have to bite back a groan when he practically throws it on the stage with that domineering air he never fails to showcase during their performances.

You press your thighs together, hyper aware of the heat that’s sizzling in between before casting Kkuma a guilty stare. Though she’s just a dog, you still feel a little bad about lusting after her dad while she’s sleeping right next to you.

You’re not even sure what’s got you so worked up today. This isn’t the first time Seungcheol dropped her off in person so you’re not sure why you’re feeling this horny from a few fancams alone. Shark week must be drawing near.

Either way, you end up quietly easing yourself off the couch so as to not wake the sleeping princess on your sofa—turning the TV off altogether before making a beeline for your bedroom to grab your towel and a change of clothes.

If there’s a more opportune time to take a shower and wash away the impurities infesting your body, it’s now.

But just as you’re about to head to the bathroom, your phone goes off on the coffee table. You pout a little when Kkuma stirs from the sound of your ringtone—looking around sleepily for the source of the noise.

“Sorry about that,” you coo before settling back beside her, running a hand across her smooth fur.

When you glance at the caller ID, your heart nearly plummets to your stomach.

“Hey,” Seungcheol’s deep voice flits into your ears when you take the call, sounding all sorts of tired. “We’re just wrapping up our shoot. I should be there in an hour or-so. How’s Kkuma?”

“She was fast asleep before my ringtone woke her up,” you chuckle.

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, baby.”

You tense up at the term of endearment despite being fully aware that it’s not meant for you in particular. That reminds you to put your phone on loudspeaker so that the intended recipient could hear Seungcheol’s apologetic voice.

“I think Vivi tired her out when we went to the park today,” you tell him fondly.

“Sounds like she finally met her match,” Seungcheol laughs on the other end and Kkuma perks up at the sound of her owner’s voice. “Can you hear me, princess? I’m coming to get you in a while. Keep being daddy’s good girl for me, yeah? I won’t be too long.”

Fuck.

When Seungcheol says your name and thanks you in that same, tired yet raspy voice, you have to keep yourself from melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Hope the double booking wasn’t too much of a bother,” he murmurs and—god. You get that he probably doesn’t have a lot of energy to spare, but does he have any idea what his voice is doing to your underwear?!

“Not at all,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “I told you Sehun picked up Vivi early today. It’s just me and this spoiled princess right now.”

“Spoiled, huh? I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Seungcheol breathes out a laugh. “Anyway, we’re getting settled in the shuttle right now. I’ll text you when I’m at the door.”

“Gotcha. Come on, Kkuma. Say goodbye to daddy.”

You don’t know why that cursed word slipped out of you so naturally, but Kkuma seems to respond to it in kind—her tail swishing with contained excitement before letting out a soft bark for Seungcheol to hear. Your client (that’s right he’s your client, you stupid, horny—) coos at the other end of the call.

You honestly can’t wait until he arrives to get her so you can have some real, much needed alone time.

To your credit, the shower kind of helped.

Though you just took one of the coldest baths in your life, it managed to alleviate the heat that lingered on your skin once Seungcheol ended the phone call. That’s considered a win in your book.

As you towel your damp hair, you take a peek at Kkuma who’s returned to her little nap on your couch. The sight makes your heart flutter and you would’ve snapped a photo if that doesn’t go against the rules you’ve set for yourself and your humble business.

Then again, fantasizing about one of your clients definitely goes against whatever principles you’ve been practicing all your life but that’s not the issue here.

Not wanting to wake her until Seungcheol arrives, you silently pad off to your bedroom, intent on getting some work done before planning what you’ll have for dinner. However, the moment you hang your towel to dry, you end up lying in bed instead of hunching in front of your desk with a laptop full of backlogs waiting for you.

You don’t even think twice when your hand inches past the garter of your thin sleep shorts.

Typically, you’d use one of your trusty vibrators to get off when you direly needed the release. It made things quick and simple. Plus, you don’t have to suffer through the ordeal of having your fingers pruning up.

But your brain thought it would be extremely funny if you touched yourself to the thought of your fingers being Seungcheol’s instead of yours—gathering the slick from your aching pussy as he lathers your wetness across your slit.

While you’re…preoccupied in your bedroom, you don’t hear your phone buzzing on the coffee table outside. You’ve deigned to put it on silent mode so Kkuma won’t be rudely awakened by any unexpected ringtones again, but the decision is a bit short-sighted since Seungcheol did tell you he’d text you once he arrives at your door.

Said idol is standing in front of your apartment with a worried look on his face. He texted you about ten minutes ago but received no response, which is a little strange since you almost always reply to his messages right away.

When you don’t pick up his third call, he starts to pace around nervously. Did you go outside? Were you busy? He’s normally a patient person, but when it comes to Kkuma, he gets jittery within seconds if there really is something to worry about.

Seungcheol tests the knob to your door but when he finds it unlocked, he’s further thrown into a haze of concern. Shit. Were you robbed? Where is Kkuma?

Where are you?

He kicks off his shoes haphazardly in the entrance, closing the door behind him before twisting the lock as he looks around cautiously. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of place inside your house. The furniture is just as he remembered—not that he spends a lot of his time studying your interior—and finds no signs of ransacking.

Relief practically crashes over him in waves when Kkuma’s head pops up from behind the couch. She hops to the floor and zips straight into his arms, pawing and licking with all the affection she can offer. Seungcheol laughs, petting her to calm down before giving your living room another once-over.

You’re nowhere to be found.

Even if Seungcheol can just grab Kkuma and make his leave, he knows he’ll feel bad if he ditches you without a word like that. So after telling his only child to stay put at the doorway, he carefully treads around your apartment and makes his way to (what he assumes is) your room.

The door is slightly ajar and he could make out the figure of someone lying on the bed inside. With the knowledge that you’re safe and sound, Seungcheol’s shoulders relax.

But just when he’s about to raise a fist to knock—

“Oh, daddy, please—”

Seungcheol freezes on the spot.

He likes to think he’s a pretty decent person. Never one to think about or blurt anything remotely sexual especially if the situation doesn’t call for it. He also likes to think he has a pretty decent amount of self-control.

But for some reason, when he sees you with one hand buried between your supple thighs as the other paws at your breast through a flimsy night shirt, he can feel himself rapidly crossing that line he’s been so careful to maintain with you all this time.

Seungcheol should leave. While he doesn’t know the specifics of your love life—given that the nature of your friendship is mostly transactional—you probably have at least one person you’re involved enough with to call daddy while you get yourself off. He’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have and he still has time to recollect his thoughts somewhere else while dealing with the steadily growing hardness in his jeans.

But then, he hears you sigh:

“Cheol… Fuck!”

You’re on the very brink of the orgasm you’ve been craving since this morning when your hand is rudely yanked from between your legs. You jolt at the intrusion—fear shooting through your system at the thought of some psycho breaking into your house while you’re so vulnerable. But when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s hard gaze, you’re convinced that you’re dreaming.

“S-Seungcheol?”

To your horror (more like delight) he takes the hand that you’ve just been using to finger yourself to the thought of him—taking your slick digits into his mouth with a pained groan. The sight instantly makes your pussy quiver with need but before that…

“What are you doing here?” you ask weakly, not having the heart to pull your arm away when he looks so fucking hot licking the juices off your fingers.

When his lips disconnect from your skin with a lascivious pop, he plants a kiss across your knuckles, smirking. “Those are such pretty sounds you’re making. Are they all for me?”

This is not happening. You probably slipped in the shower and hit your head or something. Because Choi Seungcheol—the client you’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about for the entire day—can’t be crouching in front of you right now, giving you the sexiest bedroom eyes you’ve ever seen.

You swallow thickly, trying to salvage what’s left of your pride. “Cheol, I’m sorry, I—”

He shushes you by placing a finger to your lips, the grip he has on your arm tightening with each passing second. You nearly moan when he presses his forehead against yours.

“Daddy, huh?” he asks, completely ignoring your attempt at clearing the air. “You want to call me daddy that bad, baby? So much that you have to get yourself off with Kkuma lying outside?”

Shit. That’s right. Kkuma.

However, in the midst of the moral dilemma that came with wanting Seungcheol to fuck you into the mattress while his adorable daughter was waiting outside your bedroom, you recognize that this is definitely a once in a lifetime chance.

You’re not about to let it go to waste.

You aren’t certain who it is that lunged in for the kiss. All you know is that Seungcheol has you pinned beneath his firm body as he licks into your mouth—larged, calloused fingers gripping onto your hips possessively as you moan his name against his lips.

Your sleep shorts come off in no time. So does your shirt. It only occurs to you’ve been grinding down on the denim of his jeans with nothing but soaked panties on when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth—coaxing out a sound so heavenly, it shoots straight through his cock.

“You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he sighs hoarsely, rolling his hips against your core so that you can feel how hard he is through his pants. “So fucking needy. When you get yourself off, am I the one you always think about?”

You want to say yes but Seungcheol captures your lips into another bruising kiss before you can utter a sound.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knees, one hand reaching between your legs so he can inspect the mess he’s unknowingly made of your cunt. When he finds you wet and wanting, you feel a growl reverberate deep in his chest.

“Now this won’t do,” he tuts before sliding himself between your thighs, easing himself lower on the mattress so he can hook them across his shoulders. You mewl in anticipation and Seungcheol meets your gaze with a challenging smirk. “Is there something you want?”

“C-Cheol—”

“That’s not my name right now, baby. I thought you knew that.”

How the fuck does this man just slip so naturally into the subspace without making things weird or uncomfortable? If anything, the authority in his voice makes another bout of slick gush outside your entrance—making you pray to every single god out there for Seungcheol not to notice.

“Daddy,” you whine and the title sounds delicious in his ears. “I want you. Wanted you for so long.”

You want to curl in on yourself when you feel Seungcheol’s teeth trailing love bites along your inner thighs. The grip he has on them is weighted with nothing but gentleness but the contrast it has with his rough kisses is making your mind stutter with pleasure.

“What’d you think about, hm?” he whispers. “Tell me all the filthy things you’ve wanted to do with Daddy.”

You nearly gasp when he flattens his tongue across your clothed core, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. The overload in his senses makes him want to snap and have his way with you, but Seungcheol tells himself to take it easy.

He has all the time in the world to make you feel good.

“B-But that’s embarrassing,” you whine, struggling to free yourself from his grip but Seungcheol tears your defenses asunder when he moves your panties to the side and licks a long, languid stripe along your glistening slit.

The effect it has on you is immediate—you’re writhing against his touch, fingers automatically tangling themselves in his hair as Seungcheol helps himself to your cunt like it’s his first meal of the day. It doesn’t help that he’s so enthusiastic about eating you out. Almost like he’s thought about doing it at least once in his life.

“Daddy, please—” you whimper. “Need you…inside.”

“Not until you spill the dirty details, princess,” he chuckles before letting your panties snap back against your poor, sensitive cunt. You jolt at the contact, tears lining your lashes because of how desperate you are to get filled with something. Anything.

“I-I thought about you fucking me raw,” you start shakily, toes curling every time his nose grazes your clothed pussy. “Calling me pretty names and leaving your marks on my body. T-Then when I’m about to c-come, you tell me to hold it in ‘cause you want to come together. You’d also tell me how much of a good girl I am…”

Hm. An obvious pillow princess that likes being praised. While Seungcheol has a preference for calling his partners dubious names in the bedroom, he can make a few exceptions.

Especially when you look so fucking wrecked for him when he’s barely touched you.

“I see. What else is cooking in that pretty mind of yours, baby? Daddy wants to know.”

You visibly preen at his words, further confirming his suspicions. Seungcheol has to bite back a groan at the sinister feeling that fills his chest at the knowledge.

He’s going to have so much fun with you.

“You’d— You’d use my pussy to dump your load inside me… Then you’ll just k-keep going even if I’m twitching and sensitive all over, fucking your cum deeper ‘cause you want me to keep it all in for days.”

The mental image you’re painting inside his head is not doing his sense of control any favors, but Seungcheol remains steadfast. He won’t fuck you stupid when he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet. He has more tact than that.

“That’s what I like to hear, pretty thing,” he chuckles before moving his head a little so he can remove your ruined underwear. He typically would’ve just torn the fabric in two, but he doesn’t want to scare you off just yet. “Such a good girl for Daddy. And you know what good girls deserve?”

The innocent look on your face nearly makes him cream himself right then and there. “W-What?”

With a no-good smile, he says:

“To come until you’re crying.”

Seungcheol easily slips in two thick fingers into your sopping heat, making you cry out in a way that’ll definitely pique Kkuma’s curiosity. He just hopes his baby won’t come nosing in where she isn’t supposed to while he takes care of his other baby the way she deserves.

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he sighs—loving how your gummy walls practically cling to his fingers with each shallow thrust. “Can you even take more than this? I don’t want to break you when you’re being so good for me.”

You voice out your protest against his words with a pathetic mewl, bucking your hips against his fingers with erratic vigor. “N-No… I can take more, Daddy, please please. Want you to fuck me full. I’ll be good, I promise!”

Seungcheol has been producing his own tracks for years, but the sound of you babbling incoherently is music to his ears. As he continues pumping his digits in and out of your needy hole, he puts himself back to work—tongue tracing tight circles around your puffy clit as he forces your thighs apart.

Your back arches off the bed at the sensation as your fingers desperately claw against the sheets. It’s so unfair how delirious he’s made you when he still has all of his clothes on, but you’re nothing if not his good little girl when you don’t even comment on it—focused entirely on the mounting pleasure he’s freely giving you.

When the pads of his fingers manage to graze that patch of spongy flesh deep inside you, your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull. Seungcheol is all too privy to your reaction and you feel him smirk into your cunt as he curls his fingers to find that spot again—attaching his lips around your sensitive nub as he overwhelms you with stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, hands finding their way back to his hair as you desperately tug him closer. “Daddy, f-feels so good! I’m gonna—”

“I never gave you permission, baby,” he growls and you quickly whine when he detaches himself from your pussy. “If you want to come you have to ask Daddy nicely. Unless you feel like being a bad girl all of a sudden?”

You shake your head, hips grinding against the air in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on you again. “N-No, Daddy. I want to be good. Can I please come? Please? Need it, need you.”

His chest tightens at the desperate plea in your voice and for a moment, Seungcheol is honestly kind of scared of getting too used to your desperate whines. Your needy whimpers.

How on earth is he going to go back to being friends after all this is over?

“Alright, since my princess said she’ll be good for me,” he laughs as your walls clench around his fingers. “You can come when you feel like it, baby. Come all over Daddy’s face.”

You don’t completely expect it when Seungcheol dives back into you, smothering his face in your pussy so greedily that you feel his nose bumping against your clit. He laps at your soaked folds like your arousal is the best thing he’s ever tasted—easing a third finger inside you as you muffle a scream.

“Yes, yes! Right there, Daddy!” you moan, tugging on his hair even harder as you grind your cunt against his face. “So close, so close—fuck!”

When you fall over the edge, Seungcheol doesn’t stop his relentless onslaught on your twitching pussy. Your walls clamp down around his fingers so tightly, he can only imagine how good it would feel to fuck you on his cock while you ride out your orgasm.

The syllables of his name are all but broken when you frame them around a high-pitched keen. Seungcheol slurps up every drop that trickles onto his face and he only peels himself away from you once you’ve stopped thrashing against his grip.

In the aftermath, the two of you bathe in silence—nothing but your mutual pants filling the room. You’re looking at Seungcheol with stars in your eyes despite what he just put you through and the sight alone makes him more aware of the problem in his pants.

“Daddy, do you want—”

“No,” he says immediately and he feels bad just as fast because of the disappointment that crosses your face. “I mean—fuck. I want to fuck you dumb, princess. I really do. But I also really like you and it’ll be a chip on my conscience forever if I do that without taking you out on a proper date first.”

It takes a moment for his confession to completely occur to you and when it does, the dazed look in your eyes makes way for utter shock. Seungcheol wonders if he should be offended.

“You…like me?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pretty busy guy. I don’t just let anyone come on my face.”

You gulp. “For how long?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “A while. Now are you going to let me take you out on that date one of these days or are we going to have to pretend this never happened?”

You scowl at him. It doesn’t help that he still has that tightly fitted turtleneck on—distracting you from the topic at hand for a moment before you clear your throat and give him an answer.

“H-How about we go on that date now?” you suggest somewhat anxiously. “I mean, I was already thinking about where to get dinner after this, and…”

Taking him by surprise, you lean forward to cup your hands over his ear—a devious smirk curling on your lips.

“Maybe you can fuck me dumb right after.”

Long story short, your first date with the idol you’ve been crushing on is a big hit. Right after getting himself to calm down (A.K.A., taking care of his hard on in the privacy of your bathroom), Seungcheol took you and Kkuma to a food park that’s open until midnight.

It’s over dinner that you fess up and tell him the origin of your newfound daddy kink. Seungcheol has the gall to laugh in your face at your admission and you swear you’ll never pet sit Kkuma ever again if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Aww, baby,” he coos, pinching your cheek for added effect. “You don’t have to call it pet-sitting anymore. Now that we’ve established how much we actually like each other, don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it…co-parenting?”

Unwittingly, you receive his words with a scowl.

You want to smack him upside the head. Just because he’s a confident little thing on stage doesn’t mean he can just bring that side of him in a real life conversation. But for all your adamant bravado of insisting he’s being full of himself…

You honestly don’t mind.

⟢ end notes: yay! you got to the end of my delusions!!! that said, thank you to nova @duhnova and indi @playmetheclassics for title help and going through this spur-of-the-moment filth for me!! rip to the original genius title, daddy's good girl(s) bc tumblr wants to censor it so badly LMFAO

i don’t have anything else to say aside from i’m so sorry choi kkuma

this is part of the doting on you! series.

#svt smut #seungcheol smut #svthub #seventeen smut #scoups smut #lovelyhan #full length fic 📚

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