#if this double posts istg | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitten4sannie · 10 months ago

Text

trendsetter

reach for my goals, hit it dead center

pairing: idol ex! mingi x fem! reader

genre: an actual idol au omg, smut

summary: mingi reminds you why he was so hard to leave in the first place, well, the first few times, anyway.

w.c: 3.3k

bc i’m bigger, better

warnings: brief weed use/shotgunning (mingi’s a plug in another life btw <3), mingi’s kinda a dickhead and a master manipulator (damn double homicide), dom! mingi, subby! reader, mingi’s got a big cawk, glove ? kink? idk bro, exhibitionism, teasing, praise/degradation, pet names galore/name calling, tit play, spit, fingering, finger sucking (leads to some gagging), oral (giving), deep-throating, cum eating, grinding, kissing, size kink, breeding kink, mingi fucks reader raw on the hood of her own car hallelujahhhh

a/n: don’t blame me for this btw,, blame mingi mango and the things he’s been posting on ig 😮‍💨 this man makes me delirious istg. also i wrote this while incredibly sleep deprived just so yk !! there might be some grammar and spelling errors (as well as a general sense of lunacy ✨) regardless i hope you enjoy and please do let me know if you liked it bc feedback is like a treat for me and im a treat hungry lil goblin uwu <3

song recs: so damn into you by vlad holiday - come 2 me by johnny goth - liquid by boston manor

Mingi barely made it two steps past the emergency exit doors of the booming, hectic arena when his favorite ex suddenly came waltzing back into his life again after just swiftly exiting it for the nth time. He was so shocked, his trusty lighter fell from his gloved fingers.

“Where are my car keys? I know you have them,” you abruptly confronted him, snatching the lighter from the ground before he could and sliding it inside your tank top, right in between your tits.

“Why would I have your car keys, sugar?” Mingi sighed exasperatedly, walking in your direction until he towered over you, gently clasping his calloused hands around your upper arms so he could rub them up and down in an effort to calm you, gently turning you around until your back pressed into the cool metal of the emergency door. “Can you use that pretty little head of yours for me, Y/N? I just performed right now. I was busy rehearsing before that. Do you really think I would take your keys from you just to keep you from leaving?”

“Yes, I do. You always do some fuck shit like this when I try to leave. Every time, Mingi.” Despite the furrow of your brow and the contempt present within your words, you couldn’t help but watch as Mingi’s thumbs began to press into the sides of your tits. When you didn’t say anything, he began to press the rest of his gloved fingers into the softness of your chest.

“Some fuck shit like this?” Mingi asked under his breath, studying your flushed face to gauge your reaction as he squeezed your tits against the palms of his rough hands, rubbing his thumbs teasingly against the thin material of your sports bra until he felt your nipples harden. “You aren’t tell me to stop, baby. Cat got your tongue?”

“I hate you…” you whispered softly, not understanding why you never had the strength to deny him, even in a public, though empty alleyway, even after you just broke up with him only a little while ago.

“You don’t seem to hate this…Your body’s responding to me…” Mingi suddenly pinched your nipples through your sports bra, chuckling at the gasp you let out. He leaned down, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper, “I bet you don’t hate how wet I’m making you right now, either. Is your cunt throbbing for me already, Y/N?”

“N-no…” You bit into your bottom lip when your ex let out a disapproving ‘uh-uh’ as you turned your head to look away from him, squeezing your thighs together, hoping your arousal wouldn’t drip past your short skirt.

With one hand still clasped around your tit to play with it, Mingi brought the other up to grasp your chin, making you face him again, so close that you were breathing in each other’s air, your parted lips almost touching. “You’ll let me check to see if you’re lying, won’t you, sugar? Can I see how many fingers I can fit inside your tight little cunt?”

You hated how much your body and soul still burned for your lecherous ex, hated how desperate you suddenly were for him to have his way with you, but what you hated most of all was the way you whimpered out, “Please, Minnie.”

Mingi groaned softly at the use of his pet name, feeling most of his blood began to head below the belt, letting go of your chin, the both of you watching as his hand disappeared underneath your skirt. He instantly slipped two thick fingers inside you up to the knuckles, despite wearing a pair of thick leather gloves, the both of you moaning at the squelching sound your bare, wet cunt made. “That’s my girl. You wore this slutty little skirt and no panties just for me, didn’t you? You don’t even care about getting out of here with your keys. You just wanted me to put my hands all over you one last time, yeah?”

Just as you were about to respond, Mingi suddenly stuffed his leather-bound fingers into your mouth, making you taste your own warm wetness. “A-aaahn,” you moaned around his moving digits, feeling them slip along your hot tongue, looking up at your ex’s intensely dark gaze.

“Suck,” he simply requested, smiling fondly at the sight of your plush lips closing around his fingers, pushing them further and further back until he made you gag around them, his cock throbbing at the sight of your teary doe eyes. “Oh, baby, if you’re going to be looking at me like that and making those pretty noises, I’m gonna lose it…but, you can take it, right? My fingers in your throat?”

You whined softly, trying your best not to gag more around his moving fingers, relaxing your throat enough so that the only sound that could be heard was your moans and the abundance of saliva in your mouth.

“Good girl.” Mingi slipped his fingers out of your mouth and pressed his lips onto your cheek, whispering, “Can you take my cock down your throat next, pretty girl? I worked so hard to perform tonight, you know. Don’t you think I deserve head from my favorite ex?”

“Uh-huh,” you found yourself agreeing, your head still fuzzy from having his fingers inside your mouth, desperate to have something else warm and thick on your tongue, thankful for the heavy hand that began to push your head down until your bare knees were resting against the cold concrete below.

“Say ‘aaah’,” Mingi cooed darkly from above, expertly undoing his thick belt buckle and lowering his pants until his stiff, reddened cock smacked up into his abdomen. It was then that his hands were drawn to either side of your head, barely giving you enough time to open your mouth before he thrusted forward, the tip of his cock instantly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuckkkk, that’s a good slut. You don’t have to be my girlfriend to be my fuck toy, huh, baby?”

Your moans of approval were instantly muffled by the massive cock that was being stuffed inside your throat by your eager ex, as you reached up to grasp at his hips, the shiny lighter that was still sitting in between your tits starting to jostle around due to Mingi’s rough movements.

Suddenly reminded of his post-concert ritual, Mingi reached into his back pocket and placed a joint between his lips, then fished the lighter out from between your tits, but not before he squished one of them for the hell of it. He rolled the dial on the lighter a few times before a flame sparked, bringing it up and lighting the tip of his joint.

The strong aroma of Mingi’s flower reached you in an instant, having to blink your many tears away to watch him take a deep puff of it and blow it out into your face. Your lips tingling from the immense stretch, you sputtered around his pulsing cock, suddenly pulling away, letting your spit laced lips rest against his leaking tip, weakly licking at the pre-cum that spilled from it. “M-minnie…”

“Why’d you stop?” Mingi grunted, biting on the tip of the joint to keep it from falling from his lips, looking down at you with his sharp, slightly red eyes. Using his free hand to jerk himself off with his cockhead pressed to your lips and smearing his pre-cum over them just for his own enjoyment, he slowly realized what was up. “Oh, you want a hit? Aren’t you precious? Come here.”

Mingi slowly lowered himself down into a crouching position, letting go of his cock to grab your chin with his arousal coated fingers, taking in a deeper inhale, the majority of the joint turning to ash, just as he flicked it away into the gutter. He pressed his lips onto yours in an open-mouthed kiss, neither of you bothering to close your eyes as he slowly filled your lungs with smoke.

Just as you began to choke while trying to exhale all the smoke, Mingi dragged his tongue across your own and over your top set of teeth just because he felt like it, before standing back up. “I bet you’re feeling real good now, baby. That was top shelf.” He spat into the palm of his hand and lubed up his cock, before patting your cheek and sliding himself back into the hot haven that was your throat, not wasting a single second to begin pumping himself inside it again, almost like he had never stopped.

Now that both your body and brain were delightfully clouded with a heavy, lustful high, you felt like you could cum just from getting ruthlessly throat-fucked alone, your nails digging into Mingi’s bare hips, more and more tears and saliva dripping along your flushed skin the longer he abused your tiny throat with his oversized length.

“Fuck, I can’t handle it when you cry and drool like that just from sucking my cock, baby. I’m gonna fucking cum,” Mingi groaned deeply from above you, rested his forearms against the emergency door, thrusting sloppily into your mouth. He let out a few short, whiny moans once he began to shudder, plunging his throbbing cock deep inside your throat and staying still. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming. Take my load, princess, ohh my god, that’s it.”

You swallowed the warm, salty liquid as it shot down your throat, only to open your mouth and present your tongue when Mingi pulled out and began to slowly milk his cock, taking the rest of his load on your tongue, not swallowing and simply letting it drip down, a few drops spilling down your chin and getting onto your tits.

“Mm, that’s my messy girl. You’re waiting for me to feed it to you, huh?” Mingi licked at his plush lips from witnessing your obedient nod, pushing his soft cock back into his pants and waiting for you to stand up so that he could collect some of the cum that had escaped your mouth and pushed it back into your mouth. “That’s right, babygirl, clean it all up for me. Mm-hmm, just like that.”

Once you slurped the rest of his load off of his fingers, you wrapped your arms around Mingi’s neck, pressing your heated body into his. “Mingiiii, please fuck me, I can’t take it,” you begged him underneath your breath, pressing your lips onto his neck up to his tense jawline.

“Oh, yeah? You can’t live without this dick, can you?” he questioned you huskily, bringing his wrists up to his mouth one by one to pull his gloves off with his teeth, before reaching past your waist to roughly squeeze his warm hands into your ass. When you grimaced up at him, he tugged your skirt up and spread your ass open to run his fingers down your wet slit from behind, making you whimper. “Admit it, and i’ll fuck you stupid, princess.”

Swallowing down any remaining dignity you had along with the remnants of your ex’s load, you lifted one leg up to hook it around his slim waist, allowing him easier access to you wet cunt, shuddering at the sensation of him shallowly slipping his fingers into and out of you just to tease you. “I can’t live without your cock, Mingi, okay? No one fucks me like you do, so please, make me yours.”

Mingi rubbed the abundant wetness around your cunt, licking his lips hungrily, staring down at you past his dark shades. “Right here? Right now?”

“Yes.”

“What if someone sees, princess?”

“I don’t give a fuck if someone sees, just fuck me, please!”

Mingi grinned crookedly, finding deep amusement in your desperation, considering how you were acting just a little while ago. “Where’s your car, baby?”

You pointed down the dark alleyway. “It’s just around the corner over there.”

Mingi looked over his shoulder, then picked you up from the ground, hooking both of your thighs around his waist and carrying you over to your car, massaging his hands into your thighs on the way. “I don’t have any condoms, you know.”

When Mingi laid you down on the hood of your car, the cool metal sending goosebumps up and down your exposed, heated skin, you shook your head and smiled softly. “When has that ever stopped you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t love when I fuck you raw, and leave you stuffed full of my cum…” Still in between your legs, Mingi bent down to leave kisses, licks, and bites along your neck and collarbone, lowering his pants down just enough to free his length, his slick cock growing hard and heavy against your bare cunt. “Fuck, and when I use my fingers to shove my nut back inside your cunt after��mm, I’m honestly surprised you’re not knocked up for me already…”

“Mingi,” you whined disapprovingly, despite the fresh wave of slick coating your ex’s cock as it repeatedly rubbed back and forth along your cunt.

“What, I thought you liked being my cumslut…my little breeding bitch…my pump n’ dump princess…” Mingi recited playfully, teasing your fluttering hole with the tip of his cockhead, just about driving you to the brink of insanity withi his teasing.

“Shut up, Min, oh my god…”

“Why don’t you shut me up then?” he suggested, hovering close enough to your face for you to pull him in for a desperate kiss that consisted mainly of tongue and teeth, your mouths occasionally making contact in between tongue swipes and lip bites, the both of you panting all the while.

Growing impatient, you slipped your fingers into his choppy hair, tugging his head back until your lips parted, a few strands of saliva still connecting them. “If you don’t put your cock inside me in the next two seconds, I’m going to bite it off. You hear me, Song Mingi?”

Groaning breathily when you tugged at his hair again, Mingi let out a few soft chuckles, taking his shades off and setting them down on the corner of the hood. “Using my government name like that….I must’ve teased you too much. My poor angel, so desperate for cock. I’ll fuck you good, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” he sighed, as he wrapped his fingers around his length, guiding the tip to your entrance and sliding all the way in with ease, the both of you letting out obscene moans. Without any hesitation, Mingi began to buck his hips wildly, his metal belt banging against the hood of your car with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. You feel that? Is it good for you?”

“Yes…!” you cried out, barely about to speak, let alone function, now that your beloved ex was rearranging your guts with his colossal cock.

Huffing, Mingi threw your legs up over his shoulders and laid his body weight on you, essentially folding you in half. He ran his tongue along your jaw, before nipping at it, whispering, “God, you’re always so fucking tight, princess. Gonna milk me for all I’ve got, huh? Cuz’ you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh, just for you, Minnie…”

“Mm-hmm, that’s why you’re still here even after you broke up with me earlier, baby…why you’re taking my cock on the hood of your car where anyone can see you…” Mingi continued, squeezing his hands into the plumpness of your thighs, getting a good grip on them, so that he could drive himself into you as hard as he possibly could, punching short, breathy moans out of you. “You sound so pretty for me, baby, and fuck, you’re so wet right now….You’re gonna cream all over my cock, aren’t you?”

As soon as it felt like Mingi’s oversized cock had slammed directly into your cervix, you let out an abrupt yell, an overwhelming amount of pleasure suddenly shooting through your body like lightning. “Fuck…! I’m cumming, Minnie, it’s so– oh my god.” You were gonna start whimpering and crying when Mingi gently placed his warm hand over your mouth, watching him nod his head knowingly at you, his suddenly softened gaze never leaving yours.

“That’s a good girl, such a good girl for me, Y/N,” Mingi sighed against your ear, the hot, wet sounds of your bodies colliding together and the ringing inside your ears almost too loud for you to hear him properly. Feeling your wetness pour out onto his cock, Mingi let go of your mouth and cradled your face instead, pressing slow, meaningful kisses onto your lips, a few drops of sweat dripping along the shaved sections of his hair just as your trembling fingers drifted along it. “Want it inside, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you whispered against his moving lips, not even realizing when you were clutching him impossibly close to you.

“That’s my baby…” Mingi pulled all the way out, your mixed arousal forming a milky foam around the base of his cock, before he slowly pushed all the way back in, just in time for him to paint your insides white with his seemingly endless load. He hugged you close to him all the while, pressing kiss and kiss onto your lips, face, and neck, knowing that your turbulent time together was about to come to an end, and wishing he could turn the clock back to spend another second with you.

Once your highs began to fade, you cleared your throat and slowly sat up, the both of you silently fixing your disheveled clothes and hair in a poor attempt to look presentable in the case of a random passerby.

“So…since you don’t have my keys, I’m not sure how I’m gonna get out of here,” you sighed, about to push yourself off of the hood of your car when Mingi helped you off instead, annoyed that he was suddenly acting gentlemanly when he had shown you nothing of the sort beforehand.

Smiling apologetically, Mingi fished around in one of his pockets and held your keys up to you. “I took them out of your purse before the show started.” Seeing the anger blossom on your pretty, flushed face, he continued, “Listen, I just wanted you to hear me out before you left and never came back to me, baby. I love you.”

You snatched the keys out of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back to sit on the hood of your car, keeping your thighs pressed together to keep everything from leaking out of you. “You don’t get to say that after you just made me your ‘pump n’ dump princess’, you idiot.”

“But I didn’t dump you, Y/N. You’re the one who dumped me!” Mingi whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his brown eyes growing wide and puppy-like.

You couldn’t help but begin to laugh, not only at the ludicrous situation you were both in, but at the truth of his statement. Wiping a tear from your eye, you clicked your keys to unlock your car and walked around to the driver’s side.

“Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”

“No, we’re going to the store to get Plan B, dummy. I’m not about to let Mingi Jr. run around and terrorize the city,” you replied, gazing at your ex, the sight of his childlike amusement making you feel a bit soft towards him.

“I call shotgun!” Mingi called, eagerly heading to the passenger door, practically bouncing on his heels.

“There’s only two of us,” you giggled, sitting down in the car with him.

“For now.” Mingi wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You turned the ignition on, shaking your head, the corners of your lips hurting from how long you had been smiling. “Never say that shit again.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

general taglist: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cosmiczen @choerryge @arusio @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @chanst1ddies @createyour0wnworld @roarmingi @simeonswhore @k0rean-big-mini0n @bls-luv-me @igotlockedout @fl0r4f4wn @miriamxsworld @woosmaid @kawaiikels @azcon @allofuswantgwinam @breezy-simp @eastleighsblog @singularity777 @san-realblkwife @kawennote09 @feuille-et-pain @slut4hwa @owjohny @hijeongguk @lilramennoodle @leo-seonghwa @staytinydegenerate @greenymar @8tinytings @baguette-atiny @lvnderhazes @knucklesdeepmingi @soobiverse @jeongwangjessmina @ja3hwa @actuallyalien @aggiebackstage @doom-fics @koalakoala8 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #ateez #ateez smut #mingi smut #ateez fanfic #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi #mingi x reader #ateez fic #ateez x reader #kpop smut

2K notes · View notes

scarletwinterxx · 29 days ago

Text

bend the brake - choi seungcheol imagine

istg i would have posted this days ago BUT I HAD TO RE-EDIT SO MANY TIMES bcs it wont fit here. so finally finalllyyy here you go🫠🤣

you can follow me on x, my un there niniramyeonie 😊🌻

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(photos not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The fluorescent glow of the convenience store flickers slightly as you step outside, a bag of snacks in one hand, a cold drink in the other. The streets are quiet, the late hour settling over the city like a thick blanket. You should probably be at home, curled up in bed, but the craving for something sweet had been too strong to resist.

You flip the snack over in your hands, eyes scanning the label, not really paying attention to where you're going.

And then the deafening screech of tires rips through the silence.

Your head snaps up just in time to see headlights cutting through the night, blinding and too close. Your breath catches in your throat, your body freezing in place—

The car stops mere inches from you, the force of its abrupt halt vibrating through the pavement.

For a moment, nothing moves then, the driver’s side door swings open with a sharp click.

A man steps out.

Dressed in black, broad shoulders tense under the dim streetlight. His dark hair falls slightly over his forehead, framing sharp, striking features. Even in the low light, his presence is overwhelming, like a force of nature. His gaze locks onto you—dark, intense, and filled with irritation.

“What the hell were you doing?” His voice is low, edged with frustration.

You blink, your breath still uneven. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Looking?” He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before exhaling sharply. “You were too busy staring at whatever’s in your hand to notice you almost walked into a moving car.”

You shrink back slightly, gripping the plastic bag tighter. “I didn’t mean to…”

His jaw clenches, and for a second, it looks like he’s debating whether to say something else. But instead, he just shakes his head. “Be more careful.”

He turns on his heel, already reaching for his car door.

You should just let him leave. This is already embarrassing enough. But before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Um—thank you for stopping.”

He pauses. Just for a second. Then, without a word, he gets into the car, the engine roaring to life. You stand there, heart still pounding, staring after him.

Who was that?

You push open the door to your apartment, still slightly dazed from what just happened. The faint scent of the vanilla candle Jihyo always insists on lighting.

Jihyo is sprawled on the couch, her legs tucked under a blanket, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn resting on her lap. She barely glances up from her drama before doing a double take.

“Why do you look like that?” she asks, eyes narrowing.

You blink. “Like what?”

She points a finger at you. “Like you just saw a ghost. Or like you committed a crime. Did you commit a crime?”

“No! What—why would that be your first guess?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, you do look suspicious. And you’re clutching that bag like it’s your last meal.”

Only then do you realize how tightly you’re holding onto your convenience store snacks. You exhale, finally setting them on the counter before collapsing onto the couch beside her.

“I almost got run over,” you mumble.

Jihyo gasps, sitting up so fast the blanket slides off her shoulders. “WHAT?”

You wince. “Okay, maybe not that dramatic. But this really fancy car came out of nowhere, and I wasn’t looking, and he had to brake really hard.”

She stares at you, horrified. “Are you okay?! Did he yell at you? Wait—was he hot?”

You sigh, sinking further into the couch. “He looked scary.”

Jihyo raises a brow. “Scary how? Like, actually scary or hot scary?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Why are those the only two options?”

“Because that’s how the universe works.”

You groan again. “Jihyo.”

“What? I’m just saying.” She waves a hand. “Did he at least make sure you were okay?”

You pause, remembering the way he had sighed before telling you to be more careful. The brief hesitation before he drove off.

“…Kind of?”

“Did you get his name?”

“No.”

Jihyo pouts. “Ugh, tragic.” Then, after a beat, her expression brightens mischievously. “But don’t worry! If fate wants you to meet your mysterious scary-hot man again, it’ll happen.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the tiny smile on your lips as you retreat to your room.

Fate? Well, hopefully, fate lets you not embarrass yourself next time.

Turns out fate is not on your side at all. Either that or you have a knack at embarrassing yourself.

Balancing a stack of art supplies and teaching materials while pushing open the café door is not your smartest idea. But your kids needed these for their next activity, and you were too stubborn to make two trips.

You shift the weight in your arms, carefully maneuvering your way inside and walk straight into someone.

“Whoa—careful.”

The deep voice sends an odd shiver down your spine, familiar in a way you can’t place right away. You look up, breath catching slightly as you meet dark eyes framed by sharp features and messy black hair.

It takes him half a second to recognize you.

“You.”

Your eyes widen. “M-me?”

His gaze flickers over you, and something shifts in his expression—mild surprise, a trace of amusement. “Yeah. You almost walked into my car the other night.”

Your stomach twists in a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. Of course, fate just had to throw you into his path again.

“I—uh—” You flounder for words, cheeks burning. “I was distracted.”

“Yeah. I noticed.”

You glance down, pretending to readjust your grip on the supplies. “Thanks for catching that.”

“You should really work on watching where you’re going.”

You scowl, but it lacks any real bite. “I do watch where I’m going.”

He tilts his head slightly, clearly unimpressed. “You sure about that?”

You huff, adjusting your things. “I was just in a rush.”

He eyes the stack in your arms, then sighs before reaching out and effortlessly taking half of it from you.

Your mouth falls open. “What—wait—you don’t have to—”

“Just tell me where you’re going,” he says, already turning toward the counter. “Unless you want to drop everything in the middle of the café.” You stare at him, completely thrown off by the unexpected gesture.

Who is he?

You follow him toward the counter, still slightly dazed by how effortlessly he took half of your things.

“I—I can carry it myself,” you mumble, though the words come out weaker than intended.

He doesn’t even glance back. “You were barely holding onto them a second ago.”

You press your lips together, feeling your face heat up. The café is comfortably warm, but somehow, standing next to him makes it feel ten degrees hotter. As you reach an empty table, he sets your things down with ease.

A beat of silence stretches between you before you clear your throat.

“Um… about that night,” you start hesitantly, shifting on your feet. “I—I never really got to say it properly, but… I’m really sorry. For, you know, almost getting run over.”

He leans against the chair, arms crossing over his chest as he looks at you. His dark eyes hold something unreadable, something that makes you feel even smaller under his gaze.

Then, to your surprise, his lips twitch slightly. “At least you admit it this time.”

You duck your head, flustered. “I admitted it before…”

“Mm. Not really.”

You peek up at him, only to find that he’s watching you with mild amusement, as if he finds your reaction entertaining.

The realization makes you even more shy, and you quickly look away, fiddling with your sleeves. “W-well, I mean it. I’ll be more careful next time.”

He hums, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Good.”

Another brief silence. You wonder if you should say something else, but before you can, a voice calls from behind him.

“Cheol, let’s go!”

You blink as a familiar figure strolls toward your table. Your eyes widen slightly. They know each other?

Seungcheol—Cheol?—glances over his shoulder before turning back to you. “You good with your stuff now?”

You nod quickly. “Y-yeah! Thank you.”

He gives you one last look, then, without another word, he turns and walks off, leaving you standing there, still flustered, still trying to process everything.

As Seungcheol and his friend head toward the exit, you finally let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. But then you notice it. The way the café has gotten quieter. The way people are looking at you.

“…That was Choi Seungcheol, right?”

“Yeah! And Jeonghan was with him…”

“What’s a racer like him doing here?”

You blink, confusion washing over you. Racer?

Your gaze follows theirs, staring at the door as it swings shut behind the two men. The image of Seungcheol’s sharp features, the way he carried himself, the confidence in his stride—it all clicks into place.

He wasn’t just some random guy you almost walked into that night. He was someone. Someone famous. And you, completely oblivious, had apologized to him like he was just any other stranger.

The moment you step into your apartment, exhausted from the day’s events, Jihyo barely gives you a chance to breathe before she’s dragging you onto the couch.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, again” she says, eyeing you suspiciously. “What happened now?”

You sigh, dropping your bag onto the floor. “You remember the guy I almost walked into the other night?”

Her expression sharpens. “Scary-hot guy? Yeah, obviously.”

“Well…” You shift uncomfortably. “I ran into him again today. At the café.”

“And?”

“And then I found out who he actually is.”

Jihyo narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”

You bite your lip. “He’s—um. He’s kind of famous?”

You tell her everything, from that night to meeting him again at the cafe to the stares of everyone there. She blinks. Once. Twice. Then, when realization dawns, she screams.

“YOU DIDN’T TELL ME IT WAS CHOI SEUNGCHEOL? YOU ALMOST DIED UNDER CHOI SEUNGCHEOL’S CAR?!”

You groan, flopping onto the couch. “I did not almost die!”

Jihyo looks absolutely betrayed. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Do you know who he is?”

“I do now!”

“He’s not just famous!” She grips your shoulders. “He’s the Choi Seungcheol! The biggest name in racing right now! Literally the best in the circuit! People would sell their souls just to meet him!”

You blink. “Oh.”

Jihyo groans, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it like it personally offended her. “This is so unfair. People dream about meeting Seungcheol and you—you almost became a headline without even realizing it!”

You groan again, covering your face. “Can you not say it like that?”

She huffs, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. You, the one person in this city who doesn’t know anything about racing, are somehow fated to cross paths with Choi Seungcheol.”

You peek at her between your fingers. “I don’t think fate is the one messing with me. I think it’s you.”

It’s the weekend. Your first free day in what feels like forever.

Your plan? Stay in bed, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets, and maybe only move to grab snacks. A perfect, peaceful day of doing absolutely nothing. That is until your bedroom door slams open.

“Get up!” Jihyo’s voice pierces through your sleepy haze.

You groan, barely peeking out from your covers. “Go away.” She does not go away. Instead, she marches over, grabs your arm, and starts pulling.

“Jihyo—what the—”

“You’re coming with me,” she declares, already rifling through your closet. “There’s a party. We’re going.”

You blink, still half-asleep. “Party?”

The bar is already alive with music and laughter by the time you and Jihyo step inside. You barely have a chance to get your bearings before Jihyo is leading the way, greeting people left and right like she owns the place.

“Jihyo!” Someone waves her over, and soon, you’re being pulled into a group of her friends.

As you settle in, ordering a drink and chatting with the group, you remain completely unaware of the set of eyes that have landed on you from across the room.

At a booth near the back, a group of men sits comfortably, drinks in hand, their presence naturally commanding attention. Jeonghan, leaned back with a lazy smirk, is the first to notice.

“Well, well.” He nudges Seungcheol, nodding toward the bar. “Look who it is.”

Seungcheol follows his gaze, and his eyes land on you. You, standing with your friends, laughing at something someone just said, unaware of the attention you’re drawing.

Minghao, sitting beside Jeonghan, raises a brow. “Who?”

“That,” Jeonghan hums, “is our little crosswalk girl.”

Vernon, who’s been sipping his drink quietly, looks over too. “The one from the café?”

“The very one.”

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything, his gaze unreadable. He watches as you take a sip of your drink, eyes bright as you talk with your friends, completely oblivious to the fact that you’ve somehow, unknowingly, wandered into his world again.

The conversation flows easily, laughter spilling into the air as the music hums in the background. But eventually, your drink runs low, and you excuse yourself, weaving through the crowd toward the bar.

You squeeze into a spot near the counter, waiting for the bartender’s attention, when a voice speaks beside you.

“Didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”

You blink, turning to find a man leaning casually against the bar, there’s nothing immediately alarming about him, but something about his approach makes you instinctively straighten your posture.

You offer a polite smile. “Someone like me?”

He chuckles. “You don’t really look like the bar-hopping type.” His eyes flick over you, assessing. “First time here?”

You hesitate, choosing your words carefully. “Something like that.”

“You should let me buy your next drink, then,” he offers smoothly, setting his glass down. “I can show you around.”

Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol has already risen from his seat.

“I appreciate the offer,” you say carefully, shifting slightly in place. “But I’m good, thanks.”

He tilts his head, a small smirk playing at his lips. “Come on, just one drink. No harm in that, right?”

The bartender finally makes his way over, and you take the opportunity to place your order, hoping the stranger will take the hint and leave it at that. But he doesn’t. Instead, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if he’s telling you some grand secret.

“You look a little lost,” he muses. “Let me keep you company.”

Your polite smile tightens. “I’m really not—”

A presence shifts behind you and suddenly, the atmosphere changes.

It’s subtle at first just a flicker in the air, the feeling of something shifting before you can put a name to it. Then, before you even realize what’s happening, a hand lands on the bar beside you. Close, but not touching.

The stranger’s eyes flicker up, his smirk faltering slightly. You don’t have to turn around to know someone is standing there.

And then

“I think you’re the one lost, man”

A voice. Low. Smooth. Amused, but with an edge sharp enough to cut.

You freeze.

Slowly, you turn your head aand meet Seungcheol’s gaze. He’s standing behind you, close enough that his presence is unmistakable but not intrusive. The man studies Seungcheol for a moment, then exhales through his nose, clearly weighing his options.

“Didn’t know she had company,” he says, raising his hands slightly. “Just making conversation.”

Seungcheol doesn’t move, doesn’t blink. “She’s good.”

It’s not a threat. Not outright. But it doesn’t have to be. The stranger seems to understand that.

Only then do you fully turn to Seungcheol. For a second, neither of you speak. The music thrums around you, the dim bar lights casting sharp shadows across his features.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for… scaring him off, I guess.”

His lips twitch slightly. “I didn’t scare him.”

You give him a look. “You definitely scared him.”

Seungcheol shrugs, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t like how he was talking to you.”

You blink. It’s a simple statement, but something about it makes warmth creep up your neck.

“…Yeah,” you murmur, glancing down. “I wasn’t a fan either.”

A beat of silence passes before you glance at him again.

“So…” you start, tilting your head. “Do you just happen to be everywhere I go, or…?”

His eyes flicker with amusement. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I don’t even go anywhere.”

He smirks. “And yet, here you are.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Against my will, for the record.”

“You should stick with your friends.”

You blink, caught off guard by the shift in conversation. “Huh?”

He nods toward where Jihyo and the others are, still laughing and drinking, completely unaware of your interaction.

“If you don’t like dealing with guys like that,” Seungcheol says evenly, “don’t wander off alone.”

You frown. “I wasn’t wandering—”

He gives you a pointed look.

You hesitate, then sigh. “…Fine. Noted.”

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything else, just takes another slow sip of his drink. For some reason, you can’t help but smile. A strange guy, a rescue, a drink, and an oddly protective professional racer.

Your night just got a lot more interesting.

As Seungcheol steps away from the bar, making his way back to their table, he can already feel the stares. Sure enough, when he reaches the booth, Jeonghan is the first to speak, leaning forward with a knowing smirk.

Seungcheol doesn’t react, just takes a slow sip, gaze flicking toward the bar where you’ve rejoined Jihyo and your friends, seemingly unaware of the conversation happening across the room.

Jeonghan hums, following his gaze. “She’s cute.”

Seungcheol shoots him a look. “Don’t start.”

Jeonghan grins. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.”

Minghao leans back, watching him curiously. “What’s the deal with her?”

Seungcheol exhales through his nose, setting his glass down. “Nothing. Just a familiar face.”

Jeonghan snorts. “A familiar face you’ve run into three times now.”

Vernon glances at Seungcheol. “Fate?”

“Coincidence,” Seungcheol corrects.

Jeonghan nudges Minghao. “He’s in denial.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Jeonghan just smirks, eyes flickering back to you across the room. “Maybe.” He tilts his head. “Or maybe we’re just paying attention.”

Jeonghan barely leans forward, a teasing glint in his eyes, before he starts, “But she’s really cute, so if you’re not interested—”

Seungcheol’s gaze snaps to him. Sharp. Instant. Jeonghan doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Seungcheol’s stare shuts him down. Minghao raises an eyebrow, glancing between them.

Jeonghan, ever the troublemaker, tilts his head slightly. “Oh?”

Seungcheol doesn’t answer. Just holds his gaze. For a second, the tension lingers.

Then Jeonghan chuckles, leaning back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Alright, alright.”

Seungcheol doesn’t respond this time, just shifts his gaze back to the bar where you’re still standing, laughing at something Jihyo said, completely unaware of the conversation that just took place across the room.

The cool night air is a relief after the warmth of the bar, the buzz of conversation and music fading into the background as you stand on the sidewalk with Jihyo.

She leans against you slightly, humming to herself. She’s not completely out of it, just tipsy enough to be giggly, swaying lightly as she scrolls through her phone.

“You good?” you ask, steadying her when she wobbles.

She grins up at you. “Perfect.”

You roll your eyes, adjusting your grip on her arm. “Uh-huh. Sure you are.”

Your group had started heading home one by one, slipping out with quick goodbyes, and now it’s just the two of you waiting for a cab.

Jihyo hums again, tapping at her phone. “Ugh, the wait time’s so long.”

“We’ll just have to be patient,” you sigh, rubbing your arms against the slight chill.

You don’t notice the familiar figures stepping out of the bar behind you.

Jihyo sighs dramatically, resting her full weight against you. “You’re so warm. You should let me borrow your body heat.”

“Or, and hear me out, you could stand on your own two feet.”

“No fun,” she whines, wrapping an arm around you in a lazy hug. “This is why you need a boyfriend. Someone to carry you when you’re drunk.”

You scoff. “I’m not the one who’s drunk.”

She ignores you. “You’d be so cute with a boyfriend. Someone big and strong.” She giggles. “Like one of those K-drama leads who act all tough but secretly—”

A throat clears behind you.

You both freeze.

Slowly, you turn your head. And there, standing a few feet away, is a group of some familiar and unfamiliar men. Seungcheol. Jeonghan. And two you’ve never met before but you’re assuming are their friends.

You blink.

Jihyo blinks.

Then

“Oh, shit,” she gasps, a little too loud.

You immediately slap a hand over her mouth. “Jihyo—”

She pries your hand away, eyes wide as she leans in close, whispering (badly), “Why didn’t you tell me they were right behind us?!”

“How was I supposed to know?!” you hiss back, mortified.

Meanwhile, the guys just stare, the silence between both groups growing increasingly awkward. Jeonghan, of course, is the first to break it.

“This is entertaining,” he muses, crossing his arms. “Don’t stop on our account.”

You groan, wanting the sidewalk to swallow you whole. “We’re done talking.”

“Oh, no, no—please, continue,” Jeonghan grins. “Something about K-drama boyfriends? Big and strong?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I hate this.”

Jihyo, suddenly regaining her confidence, narrows her eyes at them. “Wait, why are you guys here?”

Vernon shrugs. “Same reason you are. Leaving.”

“You followed us,” she accuses.

Minghao snorts. “You were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. We walked out and saw you.”

“…Oh.” Jihyo deflates.

Seungcheol, who’s been quiet this whole time, finally exhales. “You two waiting for a cab?”

Jihyo nods. “Yeah, but the wait times suck.”

He glances at his car parked nearby, then back at you. “We could drive you.”

Jihyo perks up instantly. “Really?” You shoot her a look. “No, that’s okay—”

She elbows you. “We should say yes.”

“Jihyo,” you grit out, horrified.

“Think about it,” she whispers. “Free ride. Faster than waiting.”

Then Jeonghan, because he’s the worst, leans in slightly. “Unless you don’t trust Seungcheol’s driving?” Your eyes dart to Seungcheol. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

You purse your lips. “I never said that.”

“So you do trust him?” Jeonghan smirks.

You scowl. “I didn’t say that either.”

Jihyo groans, gripping your shoulders. “Oh my god, just say yes so we can go home!”

Jihyo grabs your arm in a vice grip, pulling you slightly away from the guys, though her balance is… questionable at best. She leans in, eyes wide, and whisper-shouts, “He’s a good driver! He’s very famous and hot! SAY YES!”

You freeze. She thinks she’s whispering. She’s absolutely not.

The silence behind you is deafening. You close your eyes, inhale sharply, then turn your head only to find all four men staring at you. You want to die.

Jihyo, still blissfully unaware, gives you another shake. “Why are you not saying yes?! He’s right there! He knows how to drive! He’s a racer! Do you know how many girls would kill to be in this position?!”

You force a strained smile. “Jihyo.”

“What?!”

“They can hear you.”

A beat of silence. Then—she smiles, nods, and says, “Good.”

And then she turns back to you, whisper-shouting, “So now that he knows, say yes.”

Seungcheol sighs. “Get in the car.”

Jihyo beams. “See? Told you.” You shoot her a glare but begrudgingly follow Seungcheol toward his car.

You hesitate for a second, eyeing the car. Maybe if you move fast enough, you can slip into the backseat next to Jihyo and avoid—

Click.

The sound of a door opening. You turn your head and—of course—it’s Jeonghan, holding open the front passenger door with a perfectly innocent smile.

“After you,” he says smoothly.

You narrow your eyes. “I was going to sit in the back.”

He tilts his head. “But that doesn’t make sense, does it? You’re the guest, you should take the best seat.”

“I don’t—”

Jihyo, behind you, shoves your back. “Just get in!”

You shoot her a glare before reluctantly sliding into the passenger seat, cheeks burning. Jeonghan shuts the door behind you with an annoyingly satisfied look before moving to take his own seat.

Jihyo plops into the back, sighing in content. “This is nice. I could get used to this.”

You swear you hear Seungcheol let out the faintest chuckle. And then, without another word, he starts the engine—trapping you in a car with him, your tipsy best friend, and the most annoying man alive.

in the backseat, Jihyo is completely at ease. She hums along to the radio, legs crossed, looking like she’s being chauffeured. Next to her, Jeonghan has that smug little smirk the one that says he’s enjoying this way too much.

And then there’s him. Seungcheol, eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, jaw set in quiet focus.

You shift awkwardly, clearing your throat. “Uh… thanks. For, you know… driving us.”

He nods slightly. “It’s fine.”

You nod too, staring straight ahead. “Cool. Yeah. Fine.”

Another pause and then Jihyo ruins everything. She leans forward between the seats, squinting at the dashboard. “Wow. This car is nice.”

Seungcheol hums. “Thanks.”

“What’s the top speed?” she asks, poking at random buttons.

You slap her hand away. “Stop touching things!”

“I just wanna know!” she pouts. “What’s the fastest you’ve ever driven?”

“Not answering that,” Seungcheol replies flatly.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t need to know.”

Jihyo huffs, slumping back. “Boring.”

You sigh in relief, thinking that’s the end of it but of course, Jeonghan isn’t done. He props his chin on his hand, looking over at you. “You still don’t know who he is, do you?”

“I—uh.” You fumble. “I mean. Jihyo kind of told me?”

Jihyo snorts. “I did not ‘kind of’ tell you. I screamed it at you.”

Jeonghan grins. “So? What do you think?”

You blink. “What do I think about what?”

Seungcheol exhales quietly. “Jeonghan.”

But Jeonghan ignores him, still watching you expectantly. “About him. Y’know. The Choi Seungcheol.”

You hesitate, suddenly feeling like you’re walking into a trap. “Uh… cool?”

Jeonghan leans closer. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?!” you exclaim, flustered.

Jihyo, still tipsy but ever the enabler, chimes in: “You could mention that he’s hot.”

You whip around. “Jihyo!”

“What? It’s true!”

You slap a hand over your face, groaning. “I hate you.”

The car rolls to a smooth stop outside your apartment complex, and you exhale, relieved to finally escape this nightmare.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say quickly, reaching for the door handle before anyone can make this worse—

But, of course, Jihyo beats you to it.

She dramatically stretches in the backseat. “Ahhh, that was nice. Good company, smooth ride—” she winks at Seungcheol through the rearview mirror, “—great driver.”

You slap her thigh. “Get out.”

She laughs but obliges, pushing the door open and stepping out. You scramble out too, making your way onto the sidewalk, fully prepared to run but then Jeonghan’s window rolls down.

“Hey,” he calls out. “Try not to get hit by any cars this time, yeah?”

You glare at Jeonghan. “I hope you stub your toe when you get home.”

He grins, completely unbothered. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” And with that, the car pulls away, leaving you standing there, cheeks burning, as your best friend drags you toward your building laughing all the way.

As soon as the car pulls away, Jeonghan casually switches seats, sliding into the passenger seat with a content sigh. Seungcheol, jaw tight, doesn’t even look at him.

“…Are you mad I called her cute?”

Seungcheol’s grip tightens on the wheel. “Jeonghan.”

“What?” Jeonghan grins, turning to face him. “It’s an honest question.”

Seungcheol exhales sharply through his nose. “Drop it.”

Jeonghan tilts his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. “So that’s a yes.” Seungcheol doesn’t respond, gaze fixed on the road.

Jeonghan, delighted, leans closer. “You are mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Seungcheol says flatly.

Jeonghan hums, unconvinced. “Hmm. Sure. Not mad. Just gripping the wheel like you wanna break it.”

Seungcheol ignores him.

Jeonghan watches him for a second longer, then smirks, leaning back in his seat. “You know,” he muses, “she is really cute.”

Seungcheol exhales, long and slow, like he’s summoning every ounce of patience in his body.

Jeonghan grins. “Relax, man. It’s not like you’re jealous or anything.”

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches. “I said—”

“Uh-huh.” Jeonghan props his chin on his hand, looking way too pleased with himself. “Don’t worry. I’ll be nice.”

You’re comfortably settled at your desk, working on some lesson plans for your class when Jihyo bursts into your room, nearly giving you a heart attack. Before you can even react, she shoves her phone into your face.

You blink, leaning back. “What—”

She jabs at the screen. “This!”

You squint at the display, confused until you realize what you’re looking at. Choi Seungcheol’s Instagram profile.

Jihyo crosses her arms, looking at you like she just caught you. “So this is what you’re denying yourself?? Explain to me why you are not all over this man.”

Your brain bluescreens. You quickly shove her phone away, face burning. “Shut up!”

She sighs dramatically. “Babe, if it were me who bumped into him that night, best believe I would not have come home.”

You groan, covering your face. “Jihyo—”

“I mean—” She swipes to another photo, this time of him in his racing suit, looking stupidly good. “Look at him. He’s got that whole broody, ‘I’ll ruin your life but in the best way’ vibe.”

She shakes her head in awe. “That jawline should be illegal.”

She grins. “Admit it. You think he’s hot.”

You make a strangled noise. “I’m going to bed.”

Jihyo cackles, watching as you dive under your blanket in pure defeat. “Oh, babe,” she sing-songs. “You’re so done for.”

Despite Jihyo’s endless teasing and your absolute denial, the days pass and nothing happens. No accidental run-ins. No mysterious black car pulling up at the right moment. No smug Jeonghan popping out of nowhere to torment you.

You’re just at the convenience store, minding your business, waiting in line with a basket full of snacks, when you hear it

“Yeah, Seungcheol’s overseas for the big race.” Your ears perk up.

“Oh, right,” another guy says, grabbing a drink from the fridge. “Dude’s been training like crazy for this one. He’s got a good shot at winning.”

You stare blankly at the row of gum in front of you. He’s not even in Korea?

One of the guys chuckles. “I saw a clip of the press conference. He looked so serious, man. Like, no distractions, all business.”

“Hah, that’s Choi Seungcheol for you.”

You shift on your feet, suddenly feeling very silly because here you were, half-expecting some dramatic encounter, maybe another near-death experience (not that you wanted one), or at the very least, something. You pay for your things, walk out of the store, and absolutely do not check your phone for race updates.

It starts with a simple search. Just one harmless search. You’re curled up in bed, snacks within reach, telling yourself it’s just curiosity. And yet the moment you hit enter, you realize you’ve made a grave mistake.

Because there he is.

Choi Seungcheol.

Not just one picture, but thousands. Articles, interviews, highlights from races, candid photos at events. He’s everywhere.

You stare, entranced.

This is the same guy who caught you almost getting run over. The same guy who watched you squint at a menu like an old lady. The same guy who bought your coffee without a word.

You’re still deep in your self-inflicted spiral, scrolling through every article and picture you can find. And then you see it.

The latest update.

Choi Seungcheol Wins International Grand Prix!

You find yourself smiling a little. You don’t even know this guy properly, but still… it’s nice to see.

Then you scroll down. And stop.

Because there’s a picture of him not with his team, but with a girl. She’s standing close to him, a hand on his arm, smiling up at him while he looks at her.

Oh.

You stare at the image, a weird, sinking feeling settling in your chest. She’s stunning. The kind of gorgeous that makes you feel like you should sit up straighter, fix your hair, do something.

You quickly exit out of the tab, tossing your phone onto the bed like it burned you. What did you expect? Of course someone like him would have a girlfriend.

A few days passed. Not that you’re sulking. You’ve decided to move on. You’ve accepted reality. Choi Seungcheol is just a passing encounter in your life.

It’s fine. What’s not fine is this stupid bag of snacks that won’t open.

You frown, wrestling with the plastic as you step out of the convenience store, fully focused on your struggle. You huff, gripping it tighter, about to really go for it when

A loud honk blasts through the air.

You freeze.

The next second, the sound of tires screeching fills your ears. A bright flash of headlights and then a strong hand grabs you, pulling you back just as a sleek black car zooms by. Your breath catches. Heart hammering, you slowly lift your gaze to the person who just saved you

And your brain short-circuits.

Because standing there, gripping your wrist, looking at you like you’re the single biggest headache in his life is Choi Seungcheol.

Fresh off his international win. Back in Korea. And very much here. “Seriously?”

You blink up at him, mind racing, struggling to process the fact that he’s here. Right in front of you.

"Seriously?" he asks again. Before you can even think of a response, another voice speaks behind Seungcheol, and you turn just in time to see Jeonghan

“Oh my god,” he lets out a laugh, looking between you and Seungcheol. “Again?”

“I—” you start, but Jeonghan just shakes his head, looking at Seungcheol. “Be honest. Is she actually in danger all the time, or do you just have some weird sixth sense for when she’s about to get hit by something?”

Seungcheol scoffs, finally letting go of your wrist. “I don’t have a sixth sense.”

Jeonghan tilts his head. “I don’t know, man. That’s twice now. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were her personal bodyguard.”

“I—I wasn’t paying attention,” you mumble, gripping your stupid snack bag tighter.

Seungcheol pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“I was distracted—”

“With what?” he snaps. “Your life flashing before your eyes?”

You scowl, shoving the bag toward him. “This wouldn’t open!”

Seungcheol stares at it. Then at you. Jeonghan bursts out laughing.

“Oh my god,” he wheezes, doubling over. “You almost died over potato chips?”

“I wasn’t going to die—”

“You weren’t even looking,” Seungcheol cuts in, eyes narrowing. You freeze, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone.

You swallow, suddenly feeling small. “I—I didn’t mean to…”

His jaw tightens, but he exhales, shaking his head like he’s trying to let it go. “Just—be more careful.”

You nod, looking down at your feet. Jeonghan, sensing the shift in mood, clears his throat. “Anyway,” he drawls, clapping a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Before you fully commit to your new job as her official savior, can we go? I’m running on fumes, man”

Jeonghan grins. “We can drop you off”

Seungcheol glares at him. “Jeonghan.”

“What?” Jeonghan shrugs

You hold up a hand, shaking your head frantically. “I—no, it’s okay! I was just—”

Jeonghan grins wider. “See? She didn’t say no.”

Seungcheol sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”

Jeonghan slaps his back. “That’s fair. Now, come on, mystery girl. Let’s get you home in one piece”

And before you fully process what’s happening, you find yourself being pulled toward the car—toward another unexpected run-in with Choi Seungcheol.

Fate, it seems, isn’t quite done playing with you yet.

You don’t know how this happened. One second, you were nearly flattened by a car (again), and the next, you were being dragged by Jeonghan who apparently has no concept of personal space or asking for permission.

Now, you’re in the backseat of Choi Seungcheol’s car, clutching your still-unopened bag of chips like it’s your last lifeline.

“So, really, where were you looking?” he asks, turning slightly to glance at you. “Because if I was about to get hit, I’d at least want to see it coming.”

You glare at him. “I told you. The bag wouldn’t open.”

Jeonghan laughs. “I still can’t believe that’s what almost took you out. You know they put little notches for easy tearing, right?”

“...Not all of them work.”

Jeonghan sighs, shaking his head. “Natural selection is really out here working overtime.”

Seungcheol, who’s been silent this whole time, suddenly exhales sharply. “Jeonghan.”

“What?” Jeonghan grins. “I’m just saying, it’s a miracle she’s still alive.”

You sneak a glance at the rearview mirror, catching his reflection. He looks… tense. One hand on the wheel, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road.

You wonder if he regrets stopping for you. Your stomach twists. It’s stupid, but you still feel a little weird about it. And now, sitting here, in his car, after all that unnecessary sulking? You feel… even weirder.

You shift uncomfortably, fingers fidgeting with the chip bag. You barely know these guys. One of them is a literal international racing champion, and the other is his unreasonably charming best friend. Meanwhile, you’re just… you. A kindergarten teacher who almost got flattened over snacks

The contrast is almost laughable.

“…You good back there?” Jeonghan’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You blink, realizing you’ve been sulking again. “What? Yeah. Totally fine.”

Jeonghan smirks. “Uh-huh. You definitely look fine. Real picture of peace and happiness.”

You scowl, but before you can respond, Seungcheol speaks up his voice calm but firm.

“Jeonghan. Shut up.”

Jeonghan grins. “Ohhh. He’s using his serious voice.”

Seungcheol sighs, gripping the wheel tighter. “I should’ve left you on the sidewalk.”

“And yet,” Jeonghan says smugly, “you didn’t.”

Seungcheol glares at him. You feel like you’re witnessing a very old, very repetitive argument.

“Anyway,” Jeonghan continues, ignoring the daggers being stared into his skull, “since you’re so fine, tell me—how do you feel knowing you’re currently in a very expensive car, sitting behind a very famous race car driver?”

You hesitate. Then—

“…I feel like I should’ve taken the bus.”

Jeonghan bursts out laughing. Even Seungcheol’s lips twitch slightly, though he hides it well.

“Alright,” Jeonghan chuckles, shaking his head. “I like you.”

You don’t know why, but your face warms a little at that. You ignore it, focusing instead on the bag in your hands. Your stupid, unopened bag of chips. The red light feels like it’s taking forever to change.

With a sigh, you look at Seungcheol. “Can you open this?”

For the first time since you got in the car, he fully turns his head to look at you. His expression is blank.

“Seriously?”

You pout. “It won’t open.”

Seungcheol stares for another second before muttering something under his breath. Then, with one hand still on the wheel, he takes the bag from you and effortlessly tears it open with zero struggle.

You stare. He hands it back without a word, eyes back on the road.

Jeonghan looks between the two of you, then shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Ohhh, this is gonna be fun.”

You hesitate for a second, fingers tightening around your newly opened bag of chips, before finally mumbling, “Congratulations, by the way.”

It’s so quiet that you’re not even sure he hears it

“…Thanks,” Seungcheol says after a beat, voice softer than before.

“Cute girlfriend, by the way.” It just slips out.

Jeonghan, who had just taken a sip of his drink, makes a sudden choking sound. “Oh—oh my god.”

Seungcheol’s fingers twitch. You freeze, realizing what you just said, how you just said it, and immediately regret everything. You look up only to find Seungcheol’s eyes in the rearview mirror, dark and unreadable.

“…What?” His voice is flat

You clear your throat, trying to play it off. “The girl. In that picture. Looked… cute.”

Jeonghan, recovering from his near-death experience, turns fully in his seat to look at you, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “Oh wow. This is amazing.”

You glare at him. “What?”

“So, you did look him up.”

Your soul leaves your body. Seungcheol is still silent.

“I—no—I just—” You scramble for a response, but Jeonghan is already grinning like the devil himself.

“You did.” He laughs, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is good. This is so good.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, face burning.

“I mean,” Jeonghan continues, completely ignoring him, “I knew you weren’t completely oblivious, but this confirms everything—”

“Jeonghan.” This time, there’s a warning in Seungcheol’s tone. Jeonghan raises his hands in surrender, but his smirk remains. You, meanwhile, are trying very, very hard to disappear into the seat.

Seungcheol finally glances at you again, eyes unreadable. “It’s not what you think.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“The picture.” His fingers drum against the wheel. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Your breath catches slightly, but you quickly school your expression into something neutral. “Oh. I mean—I didn’t—” You clear your throat. “I wasn’t assuming anything.” Lies.

Jeonghan is watching the exchange very closely, eyes flicking between the two of you with amusement.

“Right,” he drawls. “And you totally weren’t sulking when you saw it, huh?”

Your soul leaves your body for the second time in five minutes. Seungcheol sighs, shaking his head. You, meanwhile, are seriously considering rolling out of the moving vehicle.

It’s Friday afternoon, and you’re in the middle of prepping lesson plans when your phone buzzes. You glance at the screen.

Seungcheol: Do you have plans this weekend?

Your heart does a little skip. Which is dumb. You ignore that.

You: Why?

Seungcheol: Race this weekend. Sending you a pass if you want to come.

You: Can Jihyo come?

Seungcheol: ...Do I have a choice?

You snort. Nope. He sends an exasperated-looking emoji. Then: Fine. I’ll send two.

You grin, typing back. Thanks, Cheol :)

Seungcheol leans against his car, phone in hand, watching as the dots appear and disappear on his screen. When your reply finally comes through, he stares at it for a second.

Thanks, Cheol :)

His grip tightens on the phone. The hell was that?

His brows furrow. He wasn’t expecting a nickname. Or the stupid little smiley face. He exhales, running a hand through his hair.

“You look stressed.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw as Jeonghan appears beside him, sipping an iced coffee like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Jeonghan peeks at his phone screen, then grins. “Oh? You invited her?”

“Mind your business.”

Jeonghan just laughs, patting his shoulder. “Can’t wait to see her. She’s cute.”

Come the day of the race. You clutch the pass in your hand, eyes wide as you stare at the sectioned-off area in front of you.

Jihyo whistles lowly beside you. "Damn. You got connections."

You elbow her. "I do not."

She smirks. "Oh, but you do—VIP passes, babe. Not just regular seats. VIP."

You’re still trying to process it. You thought maybe some decent seats but no. This is practically in the pit area, near the teams, where you can see the racers up close.

You fidget with the hem of your sundress, trying to keep it down as the wind playfully tugs at the fabric. Jihyo had insisted you wear it, claiming it was perfect for today. And sure, it’s cute, but you’re not used to wearing something like this.

Your eyes follow the cars as they weave and speed around the track, and even though you can’t see his face, you somehow know which one is Seungcheol. He drives with such control, such confidence it’s ridiculous. It’s nerve-wracking, but thrilling at the same time. When the checkered flag waves, signaling the end, the crowd erupts in cheers.

Seungcheol won.

Then someone is standing beside your seat. He glances at a clipboard, then at you. "Mr. Choi asked me to bring you down to the pit."

"Wh—" You blink. "Me?"

The guy nods. "Yeah, you."

She gasps dramatically. "Oh my God, you’re getting the main character treatment."

You glare at her. "Shut up—"

"Come on." The team member jerks his head toward the entrance leading down to the pit area. "He’s waiting."

Jihyo shoves you forward. "GO, OH MY GOD."

You stumble, gripping your dress, and follow behind the guy as he leads you down. The pit area is loud.

"Hey." You turn at the sound of his voice. Seungcheol is standing a few feet away, unzipping the top half of his racing suit, revealing a black sleeveless undershirt. His hair is messy from the helmet, and he looks like he just stepped out of an action movie.

Your brain empties.

"Hi."

One of the other racers whistles. "Cheol, why didn’t you tell us you had a good luck charm?"

Seungcheol glares at the guy, and he immediately shuts up. He turns his attention back to you, eyes scanning your expression. "You okay?"

You nod way too quickly. "Yes."

His lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Y-Yeah!" You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to compose yourself. "It was… really cool. Kind of scary, but mostly cool."

A beat passes. He watches you for a moment before he shifts slightly closer. "You sure?"

You swallow hard. "Yeah."

Before you can say anything else, someone calls his name from across the pit. He sighs, glancing toward them, then back at you.

"Good."

Just as Seungcheol turns to leave, one of his team members hands him a jacket—a sleek black one with his name embroidered on the front.

The wind picks up right at that moment, making your dress flutter. Seungcheol exhales, a small shake of his head, then without warning he moves closer. He holds out his jacket.

"Here."

"W-What?"

He lifts a brow. "You keep fidgeting."

"But—"

"Just take it." His voice is firm, leaving no room for argument.

You hesitate, your fingers twitching at your sides. "But won’t you need it?"

"I’m fine," he says simply. "You, on the other hand, are obviously cold."

The sleeves are way too long, and the jacket itself is so oversized that it practically swallows you. But the moment you wrap it around yourself, a wave of warmth washes over you—both from the fabric and the fact that it’s his.

Seungcheol watches you pull it tighter around yourself, then nods in satisfaction. "Better?"

You nod frantically, voice barely above a whisper. "Y-Yeah."

He smirks slightly. "Good."

Then, before you can even process what just happened, he turns around and walks away leaving you standing there in the middle of the pit, drowning in his jacket, and burning with embarrassment.

By the time dinner ends, it’s late, the streets quieter as most of the city starts winding down for the night. One by one, the group starts heading out. Vernon and Minghao take off first, and Jeonghan lingers only long enough to throw one last smirk your way before disappearing too.

Then it’s just you, Jihyo, and Seungcheol standing outside the restaurant.

Jihyo stretches, humming in satisfaction. "Alright, how are we getting home?"

Seungcheol pulls out his keys. "I’ll drive you."

Jihyo, ever the social butterfly, starts the trip off chatting about the food, the restaurant, Jeonghan’s nonsense but after a few minutes, she slowly starts dozing off. By the time you reach the highway, she’s out cold, head slumped against the window, completely knocked out.

So now, it’s just you and Seungcheol. And the silence.

You shift in your seat, sneaking a glance at him. He’s focused on the road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting lazily against the gear shift.

You clear your throat. "Thanks for the ride."

"Did you have fun?"

"Huh?"

He keeps his eyes ahead. "The race. The dinner. The whole thing."

You hesitate. Then, feeling a little shy, you nod. "Yeah. It was fun."

A ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. "Good."

The rest of the drive was quiet. You're lost in thought when suddenly you hear him,

"We’re here."

You blink and sure enough, the car is parked right in front of your apartment complex. You don’t even think. You just unbuckle your seatbelt, practically launch yourself out of the car

"Thanksfortheridegoodnight!" Then you shut the door behind you, making your escape.

Seungcheol watches, one hand on the wheel, the other resting against his chin. His lips twitch.

From the passenger seat, Jihyo stirs, barely cracking an eye open. "She’s so down bad," she mumbles sleepily.

Seungcheol huffs out a quiet laugh.

The week had been brutal.

You loved your job but spending all day surrounded by energetic little humans could be exhausting. And now, finally, finally, you had a moment to yourself. Which was why you were out again, wandering the quiet streets, enjoying the cool air.

And before you even realized it—

You were calling Seungcheol.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Where are you?" His voice was low, direct.

You blinked. "What?"

"You don’t usually call," he said. "Where are you?"

"Oh, um." You rubbed your arm, glancing around. "I’m just out on a walk."

"Alone?"

You frowned. "…Yeah?"

Seungcheol sighed. You could practically hear him shaking his head. "Of course you are."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Stay there. I’m coming to get you."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, what—"

Click. He hung up. You stared at your phone. "…Did he just—"

Before you could even process it, headlights approached from down the street.And there he was. You blinked. Then blinked again.

"How did you—"

Seungcheol gave you a look as he rolled down the window. "You take the same route every time."

You blinked again, your brain still catching up. "I—what?"

"That’s dangerous, by the way, Someone could easily figure that out."

You stared at him. "You just did."

"Exactly. Get in the car."

You huffed, rubbing your temples. "I was just taking a walk."

"And now you’re taking a ride," he countered smoothly. "C’mon, before I get out and make you."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "You wouldn’t."

Seungcheol unbuckled his seatbelt.

Your eyes widened. "Okay! Okay!"

You hurried to the passenger side, pulling open the door and climbing in. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," he deadpanned, putting the car back in drive. You sat there, hands tucked into your lap, the hum of the car filling the silence.

You swallowed. "So, uh… now what?"

Seungcheol flicked his turn signal on, eyes still on the road. "Dunno. You tell me. You’re the one who called."

You bit your lip. "Right. About that."

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

You hesitated, suddenly regretting all your life choices. "It was an accident."

Seungcheol scoffed, amused. "That’s a lie."

You groaned, throwing your head back against the seat. "Okay, fine! I just—" You sighed, watching the streetlights blur past. "I guess I just wanted to talk to someone?"

"Rough day?"

"More like a rough week," you muttered, rubbing your eyes. "The kids have been so hyper lately, and I’ve just been so tired. But it’s not even a bad tired, you know? It’s just a lot sometimes."

Seungcheol hummed, a small nod. "Yeah. I get it."

"You do?"

"Mhm." His grip on the wheel tightened slightly. "Racing’s fun. I love it. But there’s always a pressure to be on top, to perform well. Sometimes it gets overwhelming."

Seungcheol sighed, stretching out one hand before gripping the wheel again. "I go on night drives when I need to clear my head."

You stared at him, something clicking into place. "That’s why you knew my route."

He smirked slightly. "Guilty."

"I take walks, you take drives. Same thing, different speeds."

"Guess so." A comfortable silence settled between you. You glanced out the window, watching the city lights glow in the dark.

"Hey, Cheol?"

"Hm?"

"…Thanks."

You glanced at him again, blinking. He was focused on the road, but his grip on the wheel had tightened just slightly.

"For your information, I survived just fine before, you know. And i take different routes like the convenient store"

Seungcheol scoffed, barely sparing you a glance. "You almost got ran over because you were too busy sulking over a picture of me with a girl and almost died"

You choked. "I— What—"

He smirked. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

"I was not sulking!"

"Right. Totally explains why you looked like you were mourning when we saw you"

You groaned, peeking at him through your fingers. "Okay, but seriously. Who was she?"

"Told you already. A model for the brand we were promoting."

You pursed your lips. "And you just let people think she was your girlfriend?"

"Why would I care?"

You blinked at him. "Because rumors like that spread?"

"And?"

You stared at him like he’d grown a second head. "And they can cause misunderstandings!"

"Only if you believe them. You believed them?"

Your face heated again. "N-no!"

He smirked. "So you were sulking for no reason."

"Oh my god, I’m jumping out of this car."

Seungcheol laughed, shaking his head. "You’re so easy to mess with."

You scowled at him, but your heart was doing that weird thing again. You ignored it, sinking into your seat with a grumble.

"Whatever," you muttered. "I survived just fine without you, anyway."

Seungcheol didn’t say anything to that, just tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. A few seconds passed before he muttered, almost too quiet for you to hear

"Yeah. But I still worry"

It was just another normal day or at least, that was what you thought.

You were on your way back from grabbing lunch when you passed by a group of girls near the coffee shop. You weren’t intentionally eavesdropping, but the name Choi Seungcheol caught your attention.

"Did you see the pictures?" one of them gushed, holding up her phone. "He looks so good."

"I know, right?" another sighed dreamily. "And the model is there again. I swear, they have to be dating."

Your step faltered.

"She literally flew out just for the event," one of them continued. "If that doesn’t say girlfriend, I don’t know what does."

"They look so good together."

"I bet they’re just keeping it private."

You stared down at your drink, suddenly losing your appetite. Of course the rumors were back. Of course. You weren’t even sure why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t like Seungcheol owed you an explanation. He could date whoever he wanted.

You shook your head, scolding yourself. It doesn’t matter. It’s not your business. And yet, as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like a rock had settled in your stomach.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, snapping you out of your thoughts. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen.

Seungcheol.

You debated ignoring it. You weren’t in the mood. But your thumb betrayed you, swiping to answer.

"What."

There was silence on the other end. You never greeted him like that. Usually, it was your usual bright, shy "Hello?" or a nervous "Hi." But this? This was new.

"...Are you okay?" he finally asked, voice slower than usual, as if testing the waters.

You sighed, pushing open the door to your workplace. "Yeah, I’m fine. Why?"

"You sound—" he hesitated. "Different."

"I’m busy," you muttered, balancing your drink in one hand as you fumbled with your things. "What do you need?"

Seungcheol didn’t reply immediately. You could feel him trying to figure you out, and for some reason, that made you more annoyed.

"I was just calling to check on you," he finally said.

That caught you off guard. Your grip tightened around your phone.

You huffed. "I’m good. Enjoy your event."

You weren’t sure what this feeling was, but damn, it felt good to be glaring at everything.

The printer that took forever? Glare. The kid who knocked over their juice box? Squint. Your coworker asking if you were okay? Tight-lipped smile that was anything but a smile.

Maybe it was childish. Maybe you were overreacting. But at this point, you didn’t care. You didn’t even know why you felt so off. It wasn’t like you and Seungcheol were anything.

Meanwhile, across town, Seungcheol was still staring at his phone, completely thrown off. He wasn’t used to hearing you like that. You were always soft-spoken, shy, a little hesitant—but never cold. Never distant.

“What the hell was that?” he muttered to himself.

"That," came Jeonghan’s amused voice beside him, "was a very pissed-off woman."

Seungcheol shot him a look. "She said she was fine."

Jeonghan snorted. "And you believed her?" He leaned in, glancing at the phone. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Seungcheol bit out, running a hand through his hair.

"Yeah? Well, she clearly thinks otherwise," Jeonghan mused, nodding toward the crowd of cameras flashing in the distance. "Think it’s the rumors?"

Seungcheol’s jaw tightened. The articles, the fan speculation, the model that everyone kept trying to link him with. He never paid them much attention before.

But you… you might have.

"She knows it’s not like that," he muttered.

"Does she?"

You had just clocked out of work, exhausted, ready to take the bus home and forget about the ridiculous thoughts swirling in your head. But then you saw it. A familiar black car parked near the bus stop.

Hard to miss. And even harder to miss was the very famous racer leaning casually against it, hands in his pockets, watching you like he was waiting for you.

Then, the annoyance you’d been holding in all day came rushing back. You stomped over, stopping right in front of him, arms crossed tight against your chest.

"What do you think you’re doing?" you demanded, eyes narrowing.

Seungcheol barely blinked, like he had expected this reaction. "Picking you up."

"Why?"

"Because you hung up on me," he said simply, pushing off the car. "And you sounded mad."

"I'm not mad," you scoffed, which was a total lie, and he knew it.

"You’re always bad at lying, but that was just embarrassing." The confidence. The nerve. You wanted to stomp your foot like a child. You glare at him, arms still crossed, feet planted firmly on the ground.

Seungcheol watches you, then takes a slow breath, like he’s surrendering. The cocky smirk fades just a little, his posture shifts, and this time, when he speaks, his voice is softer.

"Let me take you home." Not a demand. Not an assumption. A request.

Your glare wavers, just a little.

It’s annoying, really, how easily he throws you off. Just a second ago, you were ready to fight him in the middle of this parking lot, but now? Now your heart is doing that stupid thing again, beating way too fast just because he asked instead of told.

You purse your lips. "You didn’t have to come all the way here."

"I know."

"You’re busy."

"Not right now."

You shift on your feet, fingers gripping your bag strap. You know you should just say no, get on the bus, and pretend none of this is affecting you. But Seungcheol is still standing there, watching you with something unreadable in his expression.

"...Fine," you mumble, looking away.

He opens the passenger door for you, and for some reason, that makes your face heat up more than it should. For a while, he doesn’t say anything neither do you.

You keep your eyes trained on the window, stubbornly refusing to look at him. The tension sits heavy between you, thick enough to choke on.

Eventually, you sigh. "Just drop me off."

Seungcheol exhales sharply through his nose. "You’re mad."

You scoff. "I’m not mad."

You huff, annoyed at his calmness, annoyed at how he isn’t even trying to argue with you, and most of all, annoyed at how that bothers you more than it should.

After a few minutes, Seungcheol speaks again, voice low and even.

"Are you gonna tell me why you’re mad, or do I have to guess?"

You scoff. "I already told you, I’m not mad."

He hums like he doesn’t believe you. "Right. And I’m a kindergarten teacher."

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your lips almost twitch at his sarcasm. "I’m just tired."

"Tired of what?"

"Everything."

The silence stretches again, filled only by the occasional honk of a passing car and the low music playing from his stereo. The red light ahead slows him down, and when the car comes to a stop, he finally turns his head, fully looking at you.

"You heard something, didn’t you?"

Your fingers tighten around your bag strap. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Seungcheol exhales sharply, like he’s trying to be patient. "You’ve been acting weird since this afternoon. And now you won’t even look at me."

You swallow, feeling trapped. He isn’t wrong. You had heard something—those girls talking, mentioning the rumors, the event, the model. And even though it shouldn’t have affected you, it did but there was no way in hell you were about to admit that.

"It’s nothing," you mutter. "Can we just drop it?"

Seungcheol studies you for a long moment, then makes a sound in the back of his throat—something between frustration and resignation.

"How can I make it better if you won’t tell me?"

You shift in your seat, unsure how to respond. "What?"

"You heard me," he says, sparing a quick glance at you. "If something’s bothering you, tell me. I’m not a mind reader."

"It’s not—" You start, but the words tangle in your throat.

Seungcheol sighs, running a hand through his hair before resting it back on the wheel. "Look, I don’t know what people said, but if it’s about that event, the model, or whatever rumor’s floating around, just ask me."

"Why does it matter?"

"What?"

"Why does it matter if I believe the rumors or not?" You glance away. "It’s not like we—" You stop yourself before you can finish.

The air shifts. Seungcheol doesn’t immediately respond, and when you glance back at him, his expression is unreadable. You regret speaking at all.

"It matters," he finally says, voice quieter. "Because it’s you."

Your breath catches. The words settle deep in your chest, making your heart stutter. You don’t know what to say. And he doesn’t push you to.

Later, you’re just getting your lunch ready for tomorrow to bring to work when Jihyo comes stumbling out of her room

"YOU NEED TO SEE THIS!"

"Jihyo, what—"

"Just look!" she insists, shoving the screen toward your face.

You blink, squinting as your eyes adjust to the brightness. It’s an Instagram story.

Seungcheol’s Instagram story. It’s just a simple black background with white text:

Don’t believe everything you hear. The rumors aren’t true.

That’s it. No explanation. No clarification. No dramatic reveal. Just a straight-to-the-point denial.

Jihyo, however, is losing her mind. "OUT OF CHARACTER BEHAVIOR! THE CHOI SEUNGCHEOL, POSTING ON HIS MAIN?!?"

"What—" You’re still processing.

"WHAT?!?" Jihyo gapes at you like you’ve just declared the sky isn’t blue. "BABE, THIS MAN NEVER POSTS. EVER."

"Maybe he just wanted to clear things up—" you start, but Jihyo flails.

"CLEAR THINGS UP?!?" She throws her arms up. "HE COULD’VE LET HIS AGENCY DO THAT! HE NEVER ADDRESSES RUMORS. EVER."

You chew on your bottom lip, scrolling back to look at the post again. It’s true—most celebrities would ignore baseless gossip, or let their team handle it. But Seungcheol? He chose to say something himself.

Before you go to sleep, your inner demons won and dialed his number.

The phone barely rings twice before he picks up. "You’re not mad anymore?"

"What—"

"You called me, figured that means I’m out of the woods."

You hesitate, picking at the hem of your sweater. "I wasn’t really mad…"

"No?"

"I mean—" You huff, flopping back against your pillows. "I don’t know. It was annoying, hearing people talk. Seeing things that weren’t true. It just felt… I don’t know. Weird."

Seungcheol, of all people, probably knows what it’s like to have strangers talk about him like they know every detail of his life. To have people assume things, spread stories that aren’t real. It makes your irritation feel almost… silly in comparison.

"I saw your post," you mumble after a moment. "You didn’t have to do that."

"I know."

You frown at your ceiling. "Then why?"

"Because I didn’t want you to deal with it."

Your breath catches. It’s such a simple statement, said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he wasn’t just Seungcheol, famous racer, untouchable to the world—but someone who noticed when you were uncomfortable. Someone who actually cared.

"…Oh."

"You’re really easy to fluster."

Your face burns. "I— That’s not—*"

"Are you blushing right now?"

"I am not blushing—*"

"You totally are."

"I—" You groan, rolling onto your side. "I should hang up on you."

There’s a grin in his voice when he adds, "Goodnight, trouble."

You hang up. And then promptly shove your face into your pillow, because what the hell is he doing to you?

He laughs under his breath when you hang up. Not because he’s teasing you but mostly because he can hear how flustered you were. How you probably rolled onto your side, buried your face in your hands, maybe even kicked your legs a little in frustration.

And it’s adorable.

It’s been a long time since someone reacted to him like that. Since someone called him without any agenda, just because they wanted to talk to him. Since someone didn’t treat him like Choi Seungcheol, the racer, but just… Seungcheol.

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling. His phone is still in his hand, your name staring up at him from the call log. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head.

You don’t know how you ended up here again.

One moment, you were just going about your usual routine, and the next, you were somehow standing in the middle of a VIP section at one of Seungcheol’s races.

This time, it’s just you. No Jihyo. No buffer. The area is packed with celebrities. All of them seem so effortlessly put together, exuding a confidence you can’t even begin to fake.

And then, suddenly a strong arm wraps around your waist. Before you even have a chance to react, you’re pulled against a firm chest, warmth pressing against your side. You don’t need to turn your head to know who it is.

Choi Seungcheol.

“W- Wait, wait… where are we going?” You struggle slightly, but he doesn’t let go.

“Somewhere else,” is all he says.

You don’t know what’s more overwhelming the way Seungcheol is leading you away, the weight of his arm still firm around your waist, or the fact that people are definitely watching. The moment he starts walking, it’s like the entire event slows down just to focus on the two of you.

“Seungcheol,” you hiss, trying to tug yourself free, but his grip doesn’t budge.

“Just keep walking,”

Your heart is pounding. “People are staring.”

“So?” He finally stops once you reach the edge of the track, right where his car is waiting, gleaming under the floodlights.

His expression is unreadable. “You don’t want to be seen here or something?”

Your throat dries. “I wasn’t—”

He tilts his head. Just slightly. “Why?”

You shift on your feet, feeling unbearably seen. “I don’t know.”

“You really don’t know?” The weight of his stare has your pulse stuttering.

“I just...” you start, then hesitate, voice soft, “I don’t know how I fit in this world of yours.”

Something in his gaze shifts. His fingers flex at his side. Then, just loud enough for only you to hear, he says,

“You don’t have to. I’ll fit my world into you”

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything else. Just looks at you for a second longer before his hands find your waist again, then he gives a light squeeze, almost reassuring. Almost like a promise.

Before you can process it, he’s already shrugging off his racing jacket and casually throwing it around your shoulders. He lifts a hand, already signaling to someone. Within seconds, a staff member appears, all professional smiles.

“I’ll take you somewhere more private to watch the race, Miss.”

Miss. Oh. You’re that girl now.

It’s the final lap when you step outside again.

The roar of the crowd is deafening, a mix of cheers, camera flashes, and the hum of engines still cooling down. You barely register what’s happening before Seungcheol is out of the car, helmet off, hair a sweaty mess but he doesn’t even care. The moment he spots you, he reaches for you without hesitation.

A startled yelp escapes your lips as he twirls you around effortlessly, his laughter vibrates against you, chest rising and falling as he catches his breath.

"You did it," He grins, eyes gleaming under the bright pit lights.

"Of course I did. Had something good to race for."

Jeonghan, standing a few steps behind, clicks his tongue. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you just won more than a race, Choi"

Seungcheol only smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulders for a brief second before finally walking toward his team. And even as the celebrations begin around you, you can’t shake the feeling that, somehow, everything has changed.

You just got home after the race, staring at the ceiling trying to take everything in when suddenly

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!”

You whip around to see her clutching her phone like it holds the secrets of the universe. She looks at you, then back at the screen, then at you again. “Babe. You need to see this.”

“What now?”

Wordlessly, she shoves her phone toward you, and your breath catches. It’s Seungcheol’s latest Instagram post. The first picture isn’t of his trophy. It’s not of his car. It’s not even just him.

It’s you and him.

A candid shot. His arm still slung around you from earlier. The caption is simple:

"A good day."

The second photo is of his team, the third of his car, and the fourth—finally—is of him actually holding his trophy. But it’s too late. Everyone has already seen the first picture.

Jihyo is vibrating. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THIS MEANS?!”

Seungcheol posted you. Not a soft-launch, not a story that disappears after 24 hours—an actual post. A permanent, undeniable statement.

You clutch the phone, heat creeping up your neck. “He—he’s actually insane.”

Weeks passed and things settled in just right, He calls or drives you around when he’s not busy. Often he finds himself taking slow walks with you.

Meanwhile you usually text after work or just before you go to sleep. None of it feels forced, or too much too fast. Just you and him, on your own pace.

Today Seungcheol has another race, and while the crowd is as hyped as ever, something feels slightly off.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re not there. The race went well. Another win under his belt but as soon as the post-race interviews start, he can already tell where this is going.

“Seungcheol, congratulations on another victory! You’ve been on an amazing streak lately. How do you feel?”

He adjusts the cap on his head, exhaling slightly before offering the standard answer. “Thank you. The team’s been working hard, and I couldn’t have done it without them.”

“And, of course, I have to ask… Fans have been buzzing about your recent post. The picture from your last race—it wasn’t just of you and your car, but someone else as well. A mystery girl. Care to comment?”

Seungcheol doesn’t react immediately. He just tilts his head slightly, thinking. He could shut this down in an instant. Give them a short, clipped answer, move on.

But he doesn’t really want to.

He glances to the side, as if considering his words. “She’s someone important to me.” His tone is relaxed but firm, leaving no room for doubt.

The interviewer leans in slightly. “So, are you confirming the dating rumors?”

“I’m saying I posted what I wanted to post. People can take that however they want.”

The interviewer raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “So you’re not hiding her.”

Seungcheol gives a small smirk. “Never said I was.”

The response is vague—intentionally so—but it’s enough to send the media into a frenzy. Tthe thing is he doesn’t need to explain it to anyone else. He knows who you are to him.

Seungcheol steps off the interview platform, pulling his cap lower over his face as he walks through the paddock. The post-race adrenaline is still buzzing in his veins, but his mind is already shifting elsewhere.

Then he sees you.

For a second, he thinks he’s imagining it. You weren’t supposed to be here. You had work, a full schedule, a whole list of reasons why you couldn’t make it today. And yet, there you are, standing just past the pit lane, scanning the crowd.

He slows his steps, blinking, wondering if maybe the exhaustion is making him see things.

But then you spot him. And suddenly, you’re moving. When you got closer, he reaches out his hand finds the curve of your waist instinctively, his grip firm, steady, as if making sure you’re actually real.

“What are you doing here?”

You hesitate for a second, slightly breathless from hurrying over. “I—”

And that’s when he notices you’re still in your work clothes. Something in his chest tightens.

“I couldn’t just not come,” you finally say, voice quieter now

Seungcheol watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with zero hesitation, he pulls you closer not caring who’s looking.

“You should’ve told me you were coming,” he murmurs, his hand pressing against the small of your back.

You laugh softly, like you can’t believe him. “Would you have let me surprise you if I did?”

He huffs, amused, forehead almost touching yours now. “Probably not.”

Then, just loud enough for only you to hear

“But I’m glad you did.” His grip on your waist tightens just slightly before he leans in, slow and deliberate, giving you more than enough time to pull away. But you didn’t.

So he closes the distance. The warmth of his lips grazes your cheek but then, at the last second, he shifts ever so slightly. The corner of your lips.

The touch is featherlight, barely there, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch. Enough to send a shock of awareness through your body.

“Oops,” he murmurs, voice amused, but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes when he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze.

Your face is burning. “Oops?” you echo, scandalized, voice barely above a whisper.

Seungcheol grins, all too pleased with himself, before he tugs his cap lower over his eyes and casually tucks you further into his side.

“Too late now,” he muses, leading you away as more cameras flash in the distance. “Might as well give them a show, right?”

You have a feeling this isn’t the last time he’s going to pull something like this. You can’t help but glance over your shoulder, the flashes still going off, the murmurs growing louder.

“Cheol,” you hiss, tugging lightly at his hold. “You do realize what you just did, right?”

He doesn’t even slow down. If anything, his grip tightens slightly, like he’s making sure you don’t slip away. “Yeah,” he says, entirely unfazed. “What about it?”

You gawk at him. “You kissed me.”

He laughs. A real, genuine laugh, not the teasing one he usually gives you. He tugs his cap lower again before guiding you around a corner, finally stepping out of the media’s direct line of sight.

“You’re acting like it’s a bad thing,” he muses.

You scowl. “I’m acting like someone who wasn’t expecting that in front of hundreds of people.”

His steps slow, his teasing smirk softening into something unreadable. “Would it have been different if we were alone?”

Your breath catches. He doesn’t let you answer right away, though, because suddenly, the door to the team’s private area swings open, revealing Jeonghan leaning lazily against the frame, arms crossed.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, eyes flicking between you and Seungcheol. “The internet is about to explode, you know that?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. Seungcheol, however, just sighs, like he knew this was coming.

It had been a few days since The Kiss—as Jihyo so dramatically called it—and the media was still buzzing. Your social media (which you barely used) had gained a suspicious number of new followers, and even your coworkers had started looking at you differently.

But the strangest part? Even the kids were catching on.

“What are you doing here?” you mumble the moment you see him in the lobby of your work

“Bringing lunch.”

You stared at the containers. “For… me?”

“For everyone,” he corrected, smirking. “Figured your kids might like a treat. And you’ve been too busy to eat properly, haven’t you?”

Your coworker let out a dramatic sigh. “Where do I sign up for a man like this?”

You ignored them, still trying to process the fact that Choi Seungcheol, famous race car driver, was standing in your workplace like this was a totally normal thing to do.

Meanwhile, one of the kids had wandered in, stopping short when they saw Seungcheol. Their mouth fell open.

“OH MY GOSH,” they shrieked, running back out. “GUYS, HE’S REALLY HERE!”

Within seconds, a stampede of tiny humans came rushing in, swarming around Seungcheol with wide eyes and excited whispers. Seungcheol crouched down, meeting them at eye level. “You must be her students,” he said with a grin.

The kids giggled. One particularly bold little girl tugged at his sleeve. “Are you her boyfriend?”

Seungcheol just laughed, ruffling the nearest kid’s hair before handing you one of the food containers. “Eat,” he said, his voice softer. “You’ll need the energy for all the explaining you’re about to do.”

Later you sighed as you slid into the passenger seat, tossing your bag onto your lap. Seungcheol was already watching you, a smug little grin playing on his lips as he leaned against the steering wheel. He was waiting.

“…Not a word,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Oh? Nothing to say? Not even a thank you for the food?”

You exhaled through your nose, arms crossed. “Thank you. Now drive.”

He didn’t move, still looking way too pleased with himself. “So… ‘Are you her boyfriend?’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, clearly enjoying himself. “That was a good one.”

You, on the other hand, seethed in silence. Then, before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“You didn’t answer though.”

“Hm?”

“When they asked if you were my boyfriend,” you clarified, staring out the window. “You didn’t really answer.”

“Does it bother you?”

You hesitated. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is?”

You felt his gaze shift to you for a split second before turning back to the road. He was so annoyingly calm, like he wasn’t the least bit fazed. Meanwhile, you were seconds away from combusting.

“It’s just—” You struggled to find the right words. “You could’ve denied it outright.”

Seungcheol made a soft hum, like he was thinking.

“Could’ve,” he admitted. “Didn’t feel like it.”

You turned to him, eyebrows furrowed. “And why not?”

This time, he did glance at you, his expression unreadable. “What if I didn’t want to?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “You’re cute when you’re worked up.”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

At that, he sighed, but there was amusement in his eyes when he glanced at you. “I just meant exactly what I said.”

“That you didn’t want to deny it?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s—” You fumbled for words. “That’s not an answer.”

He let go of the wheel with one hand to shift gears as he smoothly changed lanes. “It’s an answer.”

“No, it’s not. It’s cryptic and vague and you’re doing it on purpose.”

He chuckled again, but this time, when he spoke, his voice was softer. “You really don’t get it?”

You hesitated, the way he was looking at you making you squirm. “Get what?”

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment, eyes focused on the road. Then, after a beat, he exhaled sharply.

“I like you.”

Your brain short-circuited.

“Wait—” Your head snapped to him, eyes wide. “You—what?”

He was still looking ahead, but you could see the small smirk on his lips. “Did I stutter?”

You were reeling. “But—you never—”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“It was not.”

“I kissed you infront of hundreds of viewers, you’re the first face they see the moment they look up my profile and I’m not being obvious?” he chuckles

You stared at him, absolutely at a loss for words. He liked you? Seungcheol—the ridiculously famous racer, the one who was so effortlessly confident, the one who had somehow made a place in your life before you even realized—he liked you?

“Wha—how—why??”

Seungcheol let out a small laugh, glancing at you before turning back to the road “Are you asking me how feelings work?”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” You were spiraling. “You’re—you’re you! And I’m just me—how does that even make sense?”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “You think it doesn’t make sense?”

You groaned, sinking into your seat. “I mean, you’re a famous racer, Cheol. You could have anyone.”

“Could doesn’t mean want,” he said simply. “I want you.”

You were malfunctioning.

Seungcheol glanced at you again, smirking at your stunned expression. “That enough of an answer for you?”

You stared at him, mouth opening and closing uselessly.

Seungcheol wanted you.

There was no teasing in his voice this time, no cryptic answers or vague implications. Just a clear, straightforward confession that had your brain struggling to keep up.

“I—” Your voice cracked, and you immediately shut your mouth.

Seungcheol chuckled. “That’s a first. You’re speechless.”

“I hate you,” you muttered, pressing your hands over your face.

He laughed, clearly thoroughly entertained by your reaction. “No, you don’t.”

On weekdays, you were just you. Going to work, wrangling kids, taking your usual walks at night. But on weekends? That was a whole different story.

It was like you were living a double life. One moment, you were worrying about snack schedules and nap times, and the next, you were standing in the middle of a race pit, surrounded by roaring engines and a team that now knew you by name.

Like today.

“Here comes our good luck charm,” one of the team members called out when they spotted you walking in.

“I don’t know where you guys got that idea from.”

Jeonghan, who had been leaning against the car with his arms crossed, smirked. “Maybe because every race he’s had since meeting you, he’s won?”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your face warmed. “Pretty sure that’s because he’s good at what he does, not because I’m standing here.”

Seungcheol appeared then, casually throwing an arm over your shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Don’t be modest. You are my good luck charm.”

And just like that, your heart did an embarrassing little flip. Seungcheol’s hand is warm in yours as he leads you through the bustling pit lane, it all fades into nothing when he turns to look at you.

That boyish, handsome smile of his appears, the one that makes your heart stumble over itself. “Stay here, okay?” he says, squeezing your fingers gently.

You nod, swallowing. “Yeah, okay.”

His gaze lingers, scanning your face like he’s committing every detail to memory before a race. “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” He grins, lifting your joined hands just slightly before finally letting go, heading toward his car. And even as he walks away, helmet in hand, you can still feel the warmth of his touch lingering against your skin.

“Cute,” Jeonghan drawls, suddenly appearing beside you like he always does

You nearly jump out of your skin. “God, can you not?”

He smirks, arms crossed as he watches Seungcheol get into his car. “I could, but where’s the fun in that?”

Jeonghan hums, tilting his head. “You know, I’ve never seen him like this before.”

You glance at him. “Like what?”

“You didn’t see him before you got here—he was all serious, barely speaking. But then he saw you, and suddenly, bam, he’s smiling like an idiot and holding your hand in front of the whole team.”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he adds, “I give it two more races before he fully caves.”

You frown. “Caves?”

“Into admitting he’s in love with you.”

Seungcheol, who had been adjusting his gloves and getting ready to step into his car, catches your gaze just before ducking inside. And then—he winks.

Jeonghan lets out a low whistle beside you. “Oh, never mind. I take it back. I said two races, but at this rate?” He gestures vaguely toward Seungcheol, who is now in his car, looking entirely too smug.

“I’d give him until later.”

After the race, which he won again, he still insisted to drive you home despite saying you can just catch the bus since he must be tired.

He parked the car but you notice the street is a little farther from your building. You step out a little confused but taking his hand anyway. His palm is warm against yours, steady and sure, and you let him guide you down the quiet street.

“Where are we going?”

Seungcheol doesn’t answer right away, just keeps walking, his fingers absentmindedly squeezing yours like he’s grounding himself. Then he stops, looking around.

It takes you a second to realize where you are. The dim glow of a streetlamp flickers slightly, casting long shadows over the pavement. It looks different now—quieter, less chaotic—but you recognize it immediately.

“This is where—”

“Where I almost ran you over,” Seungcheol finishes, turning to you with a small smile. “Yeah.”

“Why… are we here?”

His gaze flickers to the ground before meeting yours again. “I don’t know, I just—after the race, I kept thinking about how everything started. And I ended up driving here.”

“You almost hit me with your car,” you point out, trying to lighten the mood, even though something about the moment feels heavier than that.

Seungcheol huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Not exactly the best first impression.”

“And yet here I am, getting into your car willingly.”

“Here you are.”

A beat of silence passes between you, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air. You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly, you’re stepping closer. The streetlamp flickers again, casting a warm glow over his face. His eyes search yours, as if waiting for something.

And then, in the place where you first met, where he almost ran you over, Seungcheol lifts a hand to your cheek, his touch hesitant but deliberate. His fingers brush against your jaw, his touch featherlight, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He leans in slow, giving you every chance to pull away. But you don’t.

And then, finally, finally, his lips meet yours.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s testing the waters. But when you don’t push him away, when you let out a quiet breath against his mouth, he presses in a little more. It’s warm, gentle.

He kisses you like he’s been waiting. Like he’s been wanting to for a while now. Your hands grip his jacket instinctively, grounding yourself as your knees feel dangerously weak.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours. His thumb strokes your cheek, and he exhales a soft laugh.Seungcheol chuckles, tilting his head slightly so he can press a quick kiss to the corner of your lips, then another, as if he can’t help himself.

“Were you mad at me when we first met?” you ask him jokingly

“No”

“Liar,” you tell him

Seungcheol laughs, the deep, rich sound vibrating through his chest. His arms are still loosely wrapped around you, his thumb tracing lazy circles against your waist.

“Annoyed?” he repeats, tilting his head slightly. “Maybe a little.”

You scoff, pushing at his chest lightly, but he doesn’t budge. “See! I knew it.”

He smirks, eyes glinting under the streetlights. “But I was mostly surprised. You just walked off without a care in the world after almost getting run over.”

“What was I supposed to do? Stand there and cry?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, but maybe at least look back? Maybe acknowledge the handsome guy who almost ended your life?”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch. “Handsome is subjective.”

He gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “That hurts.”

You laugh, shaking your head, and Seungcheol watches you, his smile softer now. His fingers brush against yours before he intertwines them together, his grip warm and steady.

“I wasn’t annoyed at you,” he says after a moment, his voice quieter, more thoughtful. “But you did leave an impression.”

“Oh?”

He nods, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “Yeah. I don’t normally go around remembering people who almost get hit by my car.”

“Well,” you say, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for not running me over, I guess.”

“Anytime.”

Seungcheol presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head before simply continuing to walk, your hand still firmly in his. He doesn’t say much, but he doesn’t need to. His grip on your hand is enough.

The way he slows his pace to match yours, the way he swings your hands slightly between you casual, effortless, like this has been a habit for years.

You glance up at him. “You do this often?”

He hums, tilting his head toward you. “Do what?”

“Take late-night walks,” you say. “You seem… natural at this.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Not really. Usually too exhausted after training or races.”

“So why are you doing it now?”

He squeezes your hand lightly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because you like them.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. You don’t know how to respond to that.

How do you respond when someone like Seungcheol, who has an entire world waiting on him, cheering for him, chasing after him, chooses to slow down just to walk with you?

You tug on his hand, making him stop mid-step. He blinks at you, a little confused but patient, his thumb still brushing against your skin.

“What?”

“You’re…” You hesitate, suddenly shy. “You’re really unfair.”

His brows furrow. “Huh?”

You huff, letting go of his hand to cross your arms instead. “You just—” You motion vaguely toward him. “You do these things, say these things, and then expect me to just… hust be normal about it?”

You groan, turning your face away, but he just leans in, amused.

“You’re blushing,” he teases, voice low, warm.

“Shut up,” you mumble. You bite your lip to stop the smile threatening to form, but Seungcheol sees it anyway.

“This,” he murmurs, voice quieter now. “This is worth more than any trophy.”

He remembers the first night. The near collision, the way you glared at him, completely unafraid. The way he should have just driven off but instead found himself watching you walk away, something inexplicable settling in his chest.

Then came the second meeting. The bar, the stranger who had gotten a little too close, and the way he stood up without thinking. He hadn’t even known why he did it then.

And then, the countless moments after. The dinner where you sat across from him, red-faced and shy but undeniably present in a way no one else was. The quiet phone calls, the late-night walks. The race where he had looked up into the stands and seen you there, fidgeting in your sundress, not quite used to this world of his but still showing up.

He remembers the moment it hit him.

The night he couldn’t stop thinking about you. When he realized it wasn’t just amusement. It was something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name but felt all the same.

And fate, as if conspiring against him, kept bringing you back.

Again and again, until there was no denying it.

“You were never supposed to happen to me. I didn’t think I had time for this. For… you. But somehow, no matter what I did, I kept finding you.”

Your breath catches, lips parting in surprise. You don’t know what to say, but maybe you don’t have to because Seungcheol is already stepping closer, already looking at you like you’re the finish line he’s been chasing all along.

Seungcheol has spent his entire life making calculated moves. On the track, in his career, in the way he approaches every decision with precision and control. He’s built his success on strategy, on knowing exactly when to push forward and when to hold back.

And yet, here he is, standing on the very street where fate first threw you into his path, admitting defeat not in the way he ever expected, but in the way that matters most.

Because for all his careful planning, he never planned for you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever let anything just… happen to me before,”

“And now?”

His lips curve, not quite a smirk, not quite a smile—something softer, something unguarded. “Now, I think I want to see where this takes me.”

The weight of his words settles between you, heavy with meaning. He, a man who has always dictated his own path, is choosing to let fate take the wheel.

And as he pulls you closer, the city moving around you, the distant hum of life filling the air, you realize—maybe this was always where you were meant to end up.

296 notes · View notes