#scoups x (Y/n)

[hoshifighting]

— Synopsis: After years of being Mr. Choi's personal secretary, you had become accustomed to the dynamics of working closely with him. However, fate had brought about a change – Mr. Choi's son, Seungcheol, would now be taking over the company. Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol had harbored a secret crush on you for years. — WC: 8k — WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of collapsing, blacking out, burn-out, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f. receiving), cock riding (pro-riddah), 'jealousy', all types of moans and whimpering, crush confessions, creampie, reader is mentioned as 'noona' sometimes.

You started at the company fresh out of college, eager to make your mark in the corporate world. Landing an internship and apprenticeship seemed like the perfect opportunity to kickstart your career. But from the beginning, it was a whirlwind. The partners and directors barely acknowledged your presence, treating you as if you were invisible.

Their dismissive attitudes fueled your determination to prove yourself. You worked tirelessly, absorbing every bit of knowledge and skill you could. Despite the frustrations and challenges, you persevered, determined to make your mark.

Then, when chaos descended and problems arose, suddenly you were thrust into the spotlight. Issues that had been brewing for months seemed to land squarely on your shoulders. It was as if your colleagues had only just noticed your existence, expecting you to magically solve all their problems.

But you didn't falter. Instead, you faced each challenge head-on, drawing upon your education, experience, and sheer determination. With each obstacle overcome, your confidence grew, and your colleagues began to take notice.

You hit the big leagues when you stepped into the role of a top executive, becoming the right-hand person to Mr. Choi, the company's director. From picking out his ties to scrutinizing private contracts, your responsibilities spanned the spectrum.

Every single morning, like clockwork, you'd hop into your car with a casket of coffee and croissants for Mr. Choi. Strutting into the office in your killer heels and impeccable attire, you were ready to make an impression, especially during those crucial meetings where you stood by Mr. Choi's side.

Being Mr. Choi's right arm wasn't just about fetching coffee; it was about being his trusted confidante, advisor, and problem-solver, all rolled into one.

"Y/N, can you schedule a meeting with the board members for next week?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Choi."

"Y/N, can you prepare a presentation for the investors' conference?" 

"I'll have it ready in no time, Mr. Choi."

"Y/N, can you liaise with our international partners regarding the new partnership agreement?" 

"Of course, Mr. Choi."

"Y/N, could you buy a birthday gift for my son?" 

"I'll take care of it, Mr. Choi. "

"Y/N, could you book a reservation at that new restaurant for my wife's birthday dinner?" 

"Consider it done, Mr. Choi."

Your life was a whirlwind, with the constant ticking of the clock mirroring the click-clack of your heels wherever you went. Tension hung heavy in the air, creeping up your neck like a suffocating scarf. Dark circles under your eyes were a testament to the countless nights of poor sleep, hidden only by layers of concealer slapped onto your face.

Cups of coffee became your lifeline, keeping your eyes wide open until you finally collapsed onto your bed at night. It was a relentless cycle of hustle and grind, each day blending into the next in a blur of meetings, deadlines, and demands. 

Despite the chaos of your professional life, there was a silver lining: the bills were paid, and then some. Your salary exceeded your wildest expectations, causing whispers among your coworkers about just how much you were making. But Mr. Choi never wavered in his support, always quick to defend your worth and affirm that you deserved every penny.

He'd extend invitations for you to spend time with his family, insisting that you join them at their summer house. You'd seen his family at various company events and dinners, and while you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't shake the feeling of intruding on their private time.

So, respectfully, you always declined, preferring to maintain a professional boundary despite Mr. Choi's insistence一Even though he wanted you to choose even the color of his ties.

On another typical day in the office, you meticulously scheduled a meeting for Mr. Choi, gathering his collaborators for an important discussion. As usual, you stood faithfully by his side, your sharp heels elevating you to eye level with the top brass. 

The room was set, and you watched as the group filed in, taking their seats around the sleek glass table.

But something caught your eye—a figure among the usual faces. It was Seungcheol, Mr. Choi's son, entering the room. It was a rare sight to see him at these meetings, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity.

What struck you even more was the watch adorning Seungcheol's wrist. It was the Audemars Piguet timepiece that Mr. Choi had asked you to purchase for his birthday last year.

You remembered selecting it based on your own taste, so seeing Seungcheol wearing it filled you with a sense of pride. It was a small validation that your choices were appreciated, even by the boss's son.

As Mr. Choi began the meeting, you were right there by his side, ready to assist with whatever he needed.

"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining us today," Mr. Choi began, his voice commanding the attention of the room.

You quickly handed him a folder containing the agenda for the meeting, making sure everything was in order.

"First, let's review the progress on our latest project," Mr. Choi continued, flipping through the documents in the folder.

"Of course, Mr. Choi," you interjected, pulling up the relevant slides on the screen for everyone to see.

As the meeting progressed, you anticipated Mr. Choi's needs, fetching him water when his throat grew dry and passing him important documents without skipping a beat.

"As some of you may know, over the past few months, I've been dealing with some health issues," Mr. Choi continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "And after much consideration and consultation with my doctors, I've come to the difficult decision that I need to take some time away from the company to focus on my health."

Silence fell over the room, the weight of his words sinking in. This was unexpected, and you could feel the tension in the air.

Then, as Mr. Choi's eyes met yours, you saw an understanding dawn in Seungcheol expression. Everything suddenly clicked into place—the presence of Mr. Choi's son at the meeting.  

Then, Mr. Choi continued, "During my absence, I've decided that my son, Seungcheol, will be stepping into my role temporarily."

All eyes turned to Seungcheol as he rose from his seat and bowed respectfully. You couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty, but Mr. Choi's next words put you at ease.

"And I have full confidence in both Seungcheol and Y/N," Mr. Choi declared, gesturing towards you. "Y/N will be assisting the whole team, and Seungcheol in any way necessary during this transition period."

You lifted your head, meeting Seungcheol's gaze as he nodded at you. Despite any doubts you may have had, you knew that Seungcheol was capable. You had seen glimpses of his dedication during family dinners, noticing how he would often excuse himself to study, for example.

After the meeting, you found yourself alone with Mr. Choi in the conference room. He looked at you with a gentle expression and asked, "Y/N, why do you seem so worried?"

You offered a small smile, trying to mask your concerns. "I didn't know your health had gotten this bad," you admitted softly.

Mr. Choi returned your smile, his eyes filled with understanding. "I kept it under wraps as best as I could," he said reassuringly. "But I'm confident that everything will be fine, especially with you and Seungcheol at the helm."

Just then, Seungcheol entered the room, and Mr. Choi's attention shifted to his son. "Seungcheol, Y/N will be here to keep you in line," Mr. Choi teased with a grin. "If you step out of line, she has my permission to pull your ear."

Seungcheol chuckled shyly, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded in acknowledgment. 

Mr. Choi raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, she's the best secretary anyone could have," he remarked, his tone teasing. "If she ever decides to leave because of you, consider yourself dead."

You couldn't help but laugh at the exchange, appreciating the camaraderie between father and son. "I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Choi," you reassured him with a smile. "You're stuck with me for the long haul."

The days following Mr. Choi's announcement were a fuss as you attempted to navigate the new dynamic with Seungcheol in charge. You found yourself juggling multiple tasks, trying to prioritize and triage everything so that Seungcheol could acclimate to the heightened demands of his new role.

Despite the added pressure, you remained steadfast in your routine. Each morning, you meticulously dressed, ensuring every detail of your attire was perfect. You prepared Mr. Choi's favorite coffee and croissants, just as you had done for his father every day.

One morning, as you placed the casket on Seungcheol's desk, you noticed him peering up from his papers with a furrowed brow. "Why do you bring me coffee every day?" he asked, his tone curious yet slightly perplexed.

You paused, taken aback by the question. Tilting your head slightly, you replied, "I did this every day for your dad."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Did my dad ask for this every day?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

You nodded in affirmation, but before you could say anything else, Seungcheol interjected. "You don't need to do that," he stated firmly, shaking his head.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "Seriously, you don't have to go out of your way for me like that," he insisted, his expression earnest.

You paused, considering his words for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Alright," you acquiesced with a small smile, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol's management style was different from his father's.

As the days passed and the workload continued to pile up, you found yourself working late into the night, long after your scheduled shift had ended. Massaging your temples, you stared at the glowing computer screen, the soft hum of the office, the only sound in the empty building.

Glancing up at the clock, you realized with a start that it was already 10 p.m. The realization made your shoulders sag with exhaustion, but you knew there were still tasks that needed your attention.

Looking around your office, which was nestled within the boss's office and separated only by glass walls, you noticed that the rest of the building was deserted. The departments were dark, their lights extinguished for the night.

As the first rays of sunlight filtered into the office, you blinked in surprise, realizing with a jolt that you had slept at your desk. Glancing at the clock, which now read 6:00 a.m., you felt a surge of panic course through you. You couldn't believe you had let yourself fall asleep at work.

Quickly, you sprang into action, rushing to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth and try to salvage your appearance. Splashing cold water on your face, you hoped it would help wake you up and banish the grogginess that clung to you.

With shaky hands, you reapplied your makeup, doing your best to hide the signs of exhaustion that lingered beneath your eyes. You knew that going home to freshen up wasn't an option—there was simply too much to do and not enough time.

"You're early, Ms. Y/N," Seungcheol's voice cut through the early morning haze, causing you to startle slightly. You managed a small smile in response, trying to mask the fatigue that weighed heavily on you.

As Seungcheol looked you up and down, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. Quickly, you averted your gaze, feeling the tension in your shoulders from the uncomfortable position you had slept in.

Without a word, Seungcheol settled behind his desk, and you seized the opportunity to slip out of the office. The ache in your back served as a constant reminder of your less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements.

Heading to the nearest coffee shop, you hoped that a strong cup of coffee would help invigorate you and shake off the lingering exhaustion.

With the reports prepared the night before, you and Seungcheol led another meeting, this time with the financial team. You entered the conference room together, your demeanor professional despite the weariness that still clung to you from your sleepless night.

Seungcheol took his seat at the head of the table, and you sat beside him, ready to support him in any way you could. As the meeting progressed, you found yourself immersed in the discussion, your mind racing to keep up with the financial jargon being tossed around.

However, amidst the exchange of numbers and projections, you couldn't help but notice Seungcheol's occasional glances in your direction. Each time his eyes met yours, you detected a hint of scrutiny, causing you to wonder if he had noticed your exhaustion.

Desperately trying to maintain your focus, you clenched a pen in your hand, using it as a reminder to stay alert and engaged. But despite your efforts, you could feel your energy waning with each passing minute.

As the meeting dragged on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Your eyelids feels heavy, and you struggle to keep your thoughts coherent. All you wanted was for the meeting to finish so you could finally rest and recharge.

As the meeting drew to a close and the team members began to file out of the conference room, Seungcheol rose from his seat, gathering some papers from the table. You followed suit, clutching onto the edge of the desk for support as you struggled to maintain your balance.

Seungcheol noticed your unsteady demeanor and furrowed his brow in concern. "Y/N, are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper. But even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow and unconvincing, the effort only served to make your head spin even more.

But as Seungcheol's voice grew louder and more alarmed, it felt as though his words were merely echoing around your head, distant and muffled, you realized just how drained you truly were. The room seemed to spin around you, struggling to keep your balance, you fought to stay on your feet.

The last thing you saw before darkness enveloped you was Seungcheol's panicked expression as he rushed forward, his arms outstretched to catch you before you hit the ground.

He shaked you as his figure blurred and distorted as your vision faded, and then everything went black, the sound of rushing blood pounding in your ears.

Slowly, consciousness began to seep back into your mind, accompanied by the soft murmur of voices and the gentle beeping of medical equipment. Blinking groggily, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings.

As your vision cleared, you realized you were in the nursery, surrounded by the sterile white walls and the comforting hum of medical machinery. And by your side, sitting in a chair with his head bowed, was Seungcheol.

His presence brought a sense of calm to the room, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude toward him. Despite the strain of his new responsibilities, he had stayed by your side, ensuring that you were taken care of.

You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and scratchy. Seungcheol must have sensed your movement, because he looked up, his eyes widening in relief as he saw you awake.

You tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back against the pillows. Seungcheol placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, urging you to rest.

"You collapsed during the meeting," he explained, his voice filled with worry. "They brought you here to rest. The doctors said it was exhaustion."

"Exhaustion? I-" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Seungcheol cut in, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"I saw on the cameras that you slept at your desk," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone tinged with concern. "I noticed becqause you're still wearing the same clothes," Seungcheol added, his tone gentle but firm.

You felt your cheeks burn even hotter at his observation, wishing you could disappear into the floor. The thought of him noticing you using the same clothes from the previous day filled you with mortification, and you struggled to find the right words to respond.

"I... I didn't have time to change," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of exhaustion and embarrassment settled heavily on your shoulders, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet Seungcheol's eyes.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," he said softly, his concern evident in his eyes.  "I saw you working for my dad for years, and I know how demanding he could be."

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat at the mention of Mr. Choi. Memories of late nights and early mornings spent tirelessly working flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for letting Seungcheol down.

"But I also know that you can't keep pushing yourself like this," Seungcheol continued, his voice filled with empathy. "You're human, Y/N, and you have limits."

Seungcheol's gaze softened as he looked at you, concern etched into his features. "Y/N, do you remember the last time you took time off?" he asked gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized that you couldn't recall the last time you had taken a break. "Um... I'm not sure," you admitted quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor.

Seungcheol glanced at his watch, his expression thoughtful. "Well, you don't need to work for the rest of the week," he declared, his tone firm yet compassionate.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden announcement, your mind racing to comprehend what he had just said. "But there are still conferences," you protested weakly, rising from the bed with shaky legs.

Seungcheol shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with determination. "I'll handle the conferences," he insisted, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You need to rest, Y/N. That's an order."

You opened your mouth to protest further, but the exhaustion that weighed heavily on your shoulders silenced you. With a sigh, you nodded in reluctant acceptance, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol was right—you did need to take care of yourself.

Despite having time off, your body remained accustomed to waking up at the same early hour as your workdays, thanks to the relentless consistency of your alarm. Each morning, you would groggily switch off the alarm, only to fall back into the comforting embrace of sleep for a few more precious hours.

But something changed during these days off.

Just as you used to bring coffee for your boss, you found yourself receiving a basket of breakfast at your door every morning, each one bearing Seungcheol's unmistakable calligraphy. Instead of the usual croissants and coffee, the baskets were filled with a colorful array of fruits, a healthier alternative that he seemed to insist upon, instead of his dad.

"Fruits are way more healthy than croissants…  - Seungcheol."

[...]

Your phone rang unexpectedly in the early morning hours of your last day off, jolting you awake from a peaceful slumber. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you answered the call, greeted by the voice of Joshua from the Human Resources Department.

"Hello?" you murmured, still groggy from sleep.

"Hi, Y/N," Joshua replied, his voice hushed as though sharing a secret. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

You shook your head, sitting up in bed and giving your full attention to the call. "No, it's fine. What's up, Joshua?"

"I just wanted to let you know," Joshua continued, his tone serious yet tinged with amusement, "Seungcheol asked all the departments to give you some space and let you rest during your time off."

You felt a surge of gratitude towards Seungcheol for his thoughtfulness, but your gratitude was short-lived as Joshua's next words caught you off guard.

"However," Joshua added, a hint of mischief evident in his voice, "he's struggling a bit with managing everything himself. I caught him pacing back and forth in his office for the past few minutes."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Seungcheol pacing anxiously in his office. "I'll take care of it," you assured Joshua, determination seeping into your voice.

"Great," Joshua replied with a laugh. "I'll leave you to it then. Enjoy the rest of your day off, Y/N."

As you confidently strode into the building, the weight of the archives in your hand felt oddly reassuring. Despite the lingering fatigue from your days off, you felt a renewed sense of determination as you navigated the familiar halls in your high heels.

The glances from your coworkers didn't go unnoticed, their surprise at seeing you back at work evident in their expressions. You could almost hear the unspoken question hanging in the air—shouldn't you be at home resting?

Lost in his thoughts, Seungcheol snapped out of his trance as he caught sight of you through the glass walls that separated his office. His eyes widened at the unexpected sight of you, and you offered him a small bow as you approached.

Pushing open the door, you entered his office, the determined set of your shoulders belying any trace of uncertainty. Seungcheol watched you with concern, his normally impeccable hair tousled and his lips worryingly bitten.

"You shouldn't be here," he stated, his voice tinged with worry as he took in your appearance.

You simply smiled in response, pressing the archives into his chest with a sense of purpose. "We have work to do," you replied firmly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "Do you want my help or not?"

Seungcheol's lips parted slightly, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment as he processed your words. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded shyly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and relief.

[...]

As Seungcheol sat alone in the dimly lit office, surrounded by the quiet emptiness of the building, a sense of clarity washed over him. He had been so determined to prove himself capable, to show his dad—and you—that he could handle the responsibilities of running the company on his own. But as the days passed and the chaos of the company threatened to overwhelm him, he found himself feeling lost and unsure.

Now, as he looked around at the neatly organized piles of contracts, the meticulously scheduled meetings, and the completed spreadsheets on the computer screen, he finally understood why his dad had always relied on you so heavily. Despite your youth, you possessed a rare combination of competence, efficiency, and dedication that made you indispensable to the smooth operation of the company.

Seungcheol couldn't tear his eyes away from you as he watched from the other side of the table. The soft glow of the computer screen illuminated your face, casting shadows that danced across your features as you worked diligently.

Your unbuttoned white shirt and raised sleeves hinted at the long hours you had put in, while your hair, now gathered in a messy bun, spoke about the intensity of your focus. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in the lines of your face, there was a determined set to your jaw, a resilience that shone through even in the late hours of the night.

Seungcheol marveled at the sight of your manicured nails flying across the keyboard with practiced precision, effortlessly organizing the digital archives with a speed that left him in awe.

Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh, his frustration evident as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you with guilt. "I feel terrible," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "You shouldn't have had to resolve all of these problems. I took you away from your day off, and now you're stuck here dealing with all of this mess."

You couldn't help but smile at the poor boy, his sulky expression only serving to make him appear more endearing. "Hey, it's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle as you reached across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm already feeling better, thanks to you."

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "I just wish I could have handled things better," he confessed, his voice tinged with self-doubt.

You shook your head, dismissing his concerns with a playful grin. "Well, you did leave fruits at my door," you teased, unable to resist poking fun at his earlier gesture of kindness. "So I'd say you're doing just fine."

Seungcheol couldn't help but let out a chuckle, his usual professional demeanor momentarily slipping as he made a lighthearted comment about your near fall earlier in the day. "Man, you were this close to eating floor," he quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

You gasped in mock indignation, caught off guard by his informal tone. "Seungcheol!" you exclaimed, your hand flying to your chest in exaggerated shock. "I can't believe you just said that!"

But despite your feigned outrage, you couldn't suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.

Seungcheol's laughter filled the air as he apologized, his voice laced with amusement. "Sorry, sorry," he repeated, his grin widening as he realized the playful banter between you.

You couldn't help but mock offense at his apology, feigning exaggerated indignation. "I'm deeply wounded," you joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you placed a hand dramatically over your heart. "How will I ever recover from such a grievous insult?"

Seungcheol laughed at your theatrics, the sound warm and genuine. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "How about dinner? My treat."

You raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Hmm, I don't know," you teased, pretending to consider his offer. "I might need a more sincere apology than that."

But as you glanced at Seungcheol's earnest expression, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of spending more time together outside of work. With a grin, you relented, accepting his invitation with a playful wink. "Alright, dinner it is."

"Let's go," Seungcheol declared with a grin, his eyes alight with excitement.

You widened your eyes in surprise, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice. "Tonight?" you echoed, unable to hide your astonishment.

Seungcheol nodded eagerly, his stomach rumbling audibly. "Yes, tonight," he confirmed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm starving."

With a smile, you rose from your seat, placing the neatly organized archives on the side of his desk. "Alright then, let's go," you agreed, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

As you made your way towards the exit of the empty, darkened building, you heard a surprised whistle from Seungcheol. You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, turning to tease him playfully. "Afraid of ghosts, Seungcheol?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Seungcheol scoffed, his expression mockingly indignant. "Please, the building is sinister at night," he retorted, his tone tinged with exaggeration. "How could you possibly spend nights here?"

As you walked side by side with Seungcheol towards the parking lot, the darkness of the night enveloping the empty streets, you couldn't resist teasing him about his earlier comment about the building being sinister.

"It's scarier during the day with that bunch of people around," you quipped with a playful grin, nudging him lightly with your elbow.

Seungcheol chuckled at your remark, his laughter filling the quiet night air. "Was I one of those people that scared you?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.

You couldn't help but play along, feigning exaggerated fear as you imitated his walk with a comically exaggerated pout and furrowed eyebrows. "Oh, definitely," you replied with mock seriousness, your lips puckered into a pout. "You walk like this."

Seungcheol gasped dramatically, a hand flying to his chest in mock offense. "I'm hurt," he protested, his voice dripping with faux indignation. "I'm a friendly guy, you know."

As Seungcheol held the door of the car open for you, a small smile played at the corners of your lips as you settled into the seat. "You know, in the past, you were friendly with everyone but me," you remarked casually, fastening your seatbelt as he made his way around to the driver's seat. "It's surprising to see how gentle you're being right now."

Seungcheol chuckled at your observation, his laughter warm and genuine. "It wasn't always like this," he admitted as he started the car, the engine humming to life.

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "Oh, please," you retorted, a playful glint in your eye. "I distinctly remember you going out of your way to avoid me at dinners in your house. You'd even skip dinner altogether because of me."

A smile tugged at the corners of Seungcheol's lips at your words, a hint of nostalgia coloring his expression as he navigated the quiet streets.

Seungcheol's voice was tinged with a hint of reluctance as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I had my reasons," he murmured, a note of hesitation in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, turning to look at him expectantly. "And what might those reasons be?" you inquired, your tone playful yet genuinely curious.

But Seungcheol merely glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the streets, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "I'm not going to answer that," he replied firmly, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

You couldn't help but sulk at his refusal, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why not?" you pouted, unable to resist teasing him.

Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Because it's embarrassing," he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly at the admission.

You couldn't resist pressing further, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer. "Come on, Seungcheol, you can't leave me hanging like this," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "I promise I won't laugh."

Seungcheol let out a soft sigh, his expression full of embarrassment and reluctance. "Fine," he relented, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "But you have to promise not to make fun of me."

You nodded eagerly, your curiosity piqued. "I promise," you replied earnestly, your eyes wide with anticipation.

"The truth is..." Seungcheol began, he glanced at you briefly before returning his focus to the road ahead. "I was secretly in love with your impeccable taste in office supplies."

You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected confession. For a moment, you were speechless, the weight of his words sinking in. But then you noticed the playful glint in his eyes, the mischievous curve of his lips, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"Come on, Seungcheol," you scoffed, "Tell me the real reason."

But Seungcheol merely chuckled, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he feigned pain at your weak slaps on his shoulder. "Ouch, that hurts," he teased, his laughter filling the car.

Seungcheol's voice was hesitant as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "My dad would kill me if he heard me saying this, but..." he trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

"But what?" you prompted.

Seungcheol took a deep breath, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "At the time, I had a crush on you," he confessed, his admission hanging in the air between you.

You felt your breath catch in your throat, your mind racing as you processed his words. You stayed silent, unable to form a coherent response as a rush of emotions washed over you.

After a moment of tense silence, Seungcheol continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... I was jealous of you with my dad," he admitted.

A wheeze of laughter escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the sudden burst of amusement. But it was too late—once the laughter started, it was impossible to hold back.

Seungcheol looked at you, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment crossing his features as he watched you dissolve into laughter. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh of his own, but soon he couldn't hold it in any longer.

Seungcheol's voice carried a hint of mock indignation as he spoke. "You're laughing at my feelings?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You tried to stifle your laughter, shaking your head as tears of mirth streamed down your cheeks. "No, no," you managed to gasp out between giggles, "but... me? Your dad?" The absurdity of the situation struck you, and you dissolved into laughter once again, your body shaking with the force of it.

Seungcheol couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he glanced at you with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice tinged with laughter, "maybe it does sound a little ridiculous when you say it like that."

As the laughter subsided, you wiped away tears of mirth and leaned against the window, still chuckling softly to yourself.

You asked with a playful smile, your curiosity piqued. "Why me, Seungcheol?"

Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced at you. "Well, think about it," he began, his tone lighthearted. "My dad spent every day with you, but I only saw you on special occasions. And every time I tried to catch your attention, you were busy with something with my dad." He chuckled again.

You couldn't help but laugh along with him, playfully shaking his shoulder. "Oh, so I didn't catch your charms at that time?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Seungcheol grinned, his gaze meeting yours. "I guess not," he replied with a shrug, his tone teasing yet fond.

You couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol a little more. "And your charm was ignoring me when you saw me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Seungcheol let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Okay, maybe I was a little nervous," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You laughed at his confession, enjoying the playful banter between you. "Was I really that intimidating?" you asked, feigning surprise.

Seungcheol nodded emphatically, his eyebrows raised in seriousness. "Definitely," he replied.

He continued, "I mean, we're almost the same age, but every time I saw you at dinner, you came looking like a lawyer ready to win a case."

You couldn't help but be curious. "And why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your tone gentle.

Seungcheol paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Honestly, before, I didn't really know how to tell you," he confessed, "I wasn't exactly experienced in... well, talking to girls, let alone asking them out on dates."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his admission. "And now?" you pressed.

Seungcheol turned to you, a warm smile gracing his features, as the car pulled up to the restaurant, Seungcheol got out and hurried around to open the door for you, gesturing for you to step out. "Well, I'd like to think I've gotten a little better at it," he replied, his tone light.

You chuckled softly, stepping out of the car and allowing him to guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I'd say you've definitely improved," you remarked, a teasing glint in your eye.

Seungcheol chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "The old Seungcheol would be freaking out right now if he knew he is now taking you to dinner," he admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

As you settled into your seats at the restaurant, the ambiance around you buzzing with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Seungcheol sat across from you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he perused the menu.

"So, Seungcheol," you began, your voice laced with mischief, "tell me about your crush on me when you were just a boy."

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze meeting yours. "Well," he began, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "let's just say, my crush on you hasn't exactly faded over the years."

You couldn't help but laugh at his bold confession, the unexpectedness of his words catching you off guard. "Oh, really?" you replied, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "And here I thought you were just taking me out to dinner as a friendly gesture." 

You drink a sip of wine, "Imagine if your dad finds out about this little dinner date, Mr. Choi Seungcheol…"

Seungcheol's smirk widened at your response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "And if he finds out?" he teased, his tone light yet filled with confidence.

You raised your chin slightly, meeting his gaze with a knowing look. "Well, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice steady, "it's not exactly ethical for a boss to take his employees on dates."

Seungcheol's smirk only grew, his confidence unwavering as he leaned forward slightly. "I think I can decide what's ethical while I'm in charge," he countered, his tone playful yet determined. "And besides, what harm could it do after your shift?"

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in playful skepticism at Seungcheol's suggestion. "Is it normal to take female employees on dates?" you asked, your tone teasing yet curious. "I'm sure the other girls would be interested to know."

Seungcheol's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I can't speak for anyone else," he replied, his voice low and sincere, "but I only have eyes for one woman in this company."

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension as Seungcheol's gaze locked with yours, his smile causing your heart to race. "Seungcheol..." you began, your voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.

Seungcheol's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "Yes?" he prompted, his voice low.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you meet his gaze. "I have to admit," you started, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart, "it's not exactly the most conventional situation, considering you're the son of my boss."

Seungcheol's smile remained, his eyes twinkling. "Well, technically, I am your boss," he teased.

You raised an eyebrow, "Is that supposed to sound better?" you retorted, a hint of amusement in your voice.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair as he met your gaze with a knowing look. "With that title," he replied, his voice laced with playful arrogance, "I can bend the rules a little."

You held your breath for a moment, nodding in acknowledgment of Seungcheol's words. But as you met his gaze once more, a determined look in your eyes, you couldn't help but shake your head slightly.

"You won't win me over that easily," you declared, your voice firm yet tinged with a hint of playfulness.

Seungcheol's smile faltered slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in his eyes as he leaned forward once more. "Challenge accepted," he replied, his voice filled with determination.

You couldn't help but smirk as you leaned back in your chair, your gaze locked with Seungcheol's.

Seungcheol's breath caught in his throat, his expression shifting from playful to slightly flustered. "Damn, don't look at me like that," he muttered under his breath, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You couldn't suppress a laugh at his reaction, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the way you were able to tease him. "Like what?" you teased.

Seungcheol shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Like you know exactly what you're doing,"

You couldn't resist the urge to playfully tease Seungcheol, so you tilted your head and fixed him with an intense gaze. "Like this?" you asked, your voice soft but tinged with amusement.

Seungcheol's breath hitched slightly, his feet shifting nervously under the table as he looked away from you, unable to meet your gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the effect you were having on him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you watched his reaction.

Seungcheol let out a slow exhale, his eyes flickering back to meet yours briefly before darting away again. "Yeah, like that," he mumbled, his voice slightly strained.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his response, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "Good to know I still have that effect on you," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, don't get too cocky now," he replied, his tone light but filled with warmth.

As the dinner drew to a close and both of you felt the weariness of the day settling in, Seungcheol pulled up in front of your apartment building. You exchanged a few final words, the playful banter still lingering between you as you prepared to part ways.

With a smirk, you couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol one last time before you left. "Well, thanks for the dinner, boss," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Anytime, secretary," he replied, his tone teasing yet filled with warmth.

Before you stepped out of the car, you leaned in to plant a quick kiss on Seungcheol's cheek, a gesture of gratitude. "Goodnight, Seungcheol," you said with a smile, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Seungcheol replied, his voice soft as he returned your smile.

With one final wave, you stepped out of the car and watched as Seungcheol drove off into the night一giggling like a little girl.

You lay in your bed, the soft sheets providing a feeling of comfort after a long day. Your mind starts to wonder as you take in the moment of silence. That is, until your cellphone interrupts your thoughts with notifications from Seungcheol.

You glanced down at your phone and couldn't suppress a smile when you saw Seungcheol's message. It read, "Since you're such a busy woman, I thought I'd save you the trouble and make plans for Saturday. I'll pick you up in the morning and we'll spend the day at the summer house."

With a playful glint in your eye, you quickly replied, "Just like your dad to invite me to the summer house, huh?"

A moment later, Seungcheol's response came through. "Yes, but this time, you'll go," he wrote, his tone confident yet filled with warmth.

You couldn't resist teasing him a bit more. "Who guarantees that?" you typed quickly, a smirk playing on your lips as you sent the message.

A moment later, your phone buzzed with Seungcheol's response. "I do" he replied confidently. "And if that's not enough, I can promise you good food, great company, and a beautiful view. What more could you want?"

You chuckled softly, appreciating his playful persistence. "Alright, you win. I'll be ready," you responded, feeling a flutter of excitement for the upcoming weekend.

"Great! Looking forward to it," Seungcheol replied with a smiley face emoji.

Just as he promised, Seungcheol stopped in front of your apartment in the morning. You stepped out of the building, the bright sun shining down, and made your way to his car. You were wearing sunglasses and a sundress, a look quite different from the usual office attire Seungcheol was accustomed to seeing you in.

As you slid into the passenger seat, Seungcheol gave you an appreciative once-over and grinned. "Well, look at you," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I almost didn't recognize you without the high heels and power suit."

You laughed, adjusting your sunglasses. "Surprised, huh? I do have a life outside the office, you know."

He chuckled as he started the car. "I must say, I like this version of you." Seungcheol glanced over at you, a playful smirk on his lips. "Finally, I thought you would never get to see our summer house," he teased.

You chuckled, adjusting your sunglasses. "Well, your dad always invited me on weekends to spend the day with you and your brother. I guess I just never took him up on the offer."

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Really? My dad wanted you to spend time with us?"

"Yeah," you nodded, smiling at the memory. "He would always insist, but I didn't want to intrude on your family time."

Seungcheol shook his head, laughing softly. "You wouldn't have been intruding. My dad probably wanted you there to keep me and my brother in line."

You chuckled at Seungcheol's playful response, shaking your head in amusement. "Of course, you were terrible. I needed to choose my peace," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.

Seungcheol laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way, my dad told you about all the things we've done?" he exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised.

You nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, I saved you two from a lot of mess already. I needed to remind your dad to take you two off punishment more than once."

Seungcheol's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he glanced at you. "Let me reward you then?" he suggested, his tone laced with teasing.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Bold move, Seungcheol," you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.

"I grew up, Noona," he proclaimed with the new nickname, his voice dripping with a flirtatious undertone. "I'm not that little boy anymore."

You smirked at his comment, intrigued to see where he was going with this. "Ooh, do go on, Seungcheol," you responded, your tone laced with playful curiosity. "What, pray tell, has changed since I last saw you?"

Seungcheol chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. His smile widened, revealing a glimpse of the boyish charm that still clung to him. "Well, I've grown a little taller, for starters," he admitted, a hint of bravado in his voice. "And I've gained some muscle too."

You couldn't help but playfully tease him further, a challenge in your eyes as your lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Grown taller, you say?" you retorted, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. "And gained some muscle? Aren't you just the pinnacle of maturity now?"

Seungcheol's eyes twinkled as he met your gaze, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, don't worry, Noona, I still have my charming ways," he teased, a flirtatious grin settling on his face.

As the conversation continued, Seungcheol's cheeks flushed slightly as he confessed, "The old me couldn't even bring himself to ask out his crush, much less invite her to the summer house to spend time together alone."

Your surprise was evident as you echoed, "Alone? Just the two of us?" A newfound realization dawned on you, and you couldn't help but wonder, "Is that why you invited me, Seungcheol?"

He flashed you a sheepish smile and nodded, his embarrassment adding a touch of charm to his confession.

Seungcheol's flushed cheeks and bashful demeanor confirmed the truth of his revelation. He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I guess it is," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I wanted some alone time with you, Noona."

"Alone in a romantic summer house?" you echoed, your voice tinged with a touch of tease. "Well, I suppose we could enjoy the scenic views, relax by the pool, and indulge in some good food and wine. But I have a feeling you had something specific in mind, Seungcheol. Care to enlighten me?"

Seungcheol's gaze flicked up to the rearview mirror, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he caught your suggestive question. A subtle blush crept onto his cheeks, and he bit his lip shyly, clearly embarrassed by the direction the conversation was taking.

He chuckled nervously. "Oh, no, Noona, not that." He quickly added, "I just wanted to spend some quality time with you, you know? Talk, laugh, just have fun together."

"Well, if I wasn't worried about distracting the driver, I might say something even more suggestive," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

Seungcheol flushed deeper, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly as he tried to focus on the road. "Noona, please," he pleaded, his voice tinged with embarrassment and something you couldn't read well. "It's hard enough to concentrate as it is. Don't make it harder."

"You're not getting nervous, are you? Is the thought of being alone with me in a romantic summer house too much for you?"

"Hush, Noona," he said with a light-hearted scold, giving you a quick glance. "Can you not talk like that while I'm driving?" his voice slightly strained.

"Relax, Seungcheol," you teased leaning on your seat again. "It's just a little harmless fun. But if it's making you this flustered, I suppose I'll keep the dirty talk for later."

"Please do," he replied, his tone flustered and entertained. "Let's save the risqué topics for when we're not on the road, okay?"

You chuckled, finding his bashfulness endearing. "Alright, alright, I'll behave," you said, lifting your hands in mock surrender. "For now."

"I think the boldest one here is you, from what I see." 

You grinned at his observation, "Oh, you're just noticing that now, Seungcheol?" you teased. "I've always been the bolder one between the two of us. But don't worry, I'll try not to overwhelm you with my boldness."

"I have no doubts about that, Noona," he replied, "Bring on the surprises later. I can handle it."

As you continued your playful banter with Seungcheol, you noticed a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Years of harboring a secret crush on you, struggling to hide his true feelings, had taken a toll on him. 

Deep down, he was tired of waiting, desperate to express the admiration he held for you. You wondered how much longer he could keep his feelings restrained, how much more pent-up emotion he could bear before they would inevitably burst forth.

As you stepped into the summer house, the pure air filling your lungs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Turning to glance at Seungcheol, the reality of the situation finally hitting you一just the two of you. A soft smile curved your lips as you took in the peaceful atmosphere.

Seungcheol, too, seemed affected by the realization.

As you glanced around, your eyes fell upon the family portraits hanging on the wall. There was a charming photo of Seungcheol and his brother hugging their mother, another one capturing Mr. Choi tenderly kissing Mrs. Choi. Your gaze then moved to a playful shot of them both splashing water, and finally, a picture of Seungcheol himself. As you stood there admiring the memories, you felt a warm presence behind you.

With his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face, Seungcheol stood by your side, clearly amused by your initial reaction.

You couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle, finding Seungcheol's amused expression endearing. Turning to face him, you commented, "Looks like Mr. and Mrs. Choi couldn't keep their hands off each other."

Seungcheol laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, they've always been like that," he replied. "They're not exactly shy about their affection for each other."

"Are you really this egotistical, displaying your own picture on the wall like this?"

Seungcheol chuckled, his smile widening as he playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing. "Oh please, Noona," he replied, "It's not my fault you're just now realizing how irresistibly handsome I am."

You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. "Alright, alright," you conceded, "You win this round, ego extraordinaire. But I must admit, you've always been quite handsome, even if it's a bit exaggerated." You smirked playfully.

Seungcheol grinned, basking in the compliment. "Aww, so you finally admit it, do you?" he teased, a cocky smile on his face.

As you playfully warned him not to get cocky, Seungcheol couldn't resist the temptation. He stepped closer, his hands gently settling on your waist. You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, his eyes intense and captivating. 

However, you playfully resisted, pushing him away and throwing him a challenging glance. As you walked away, you gave him one last sultry look over your shoulder before disappearing into the next room.

Seungcheol stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by the unexpected turn of events. A combination of surprise and desire coursed through him as he tried to compose himself, his heart racing.

His eyes gleamed with a combination of desire and disappointment, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was clear that the game had only just begun.

The night had crept upon you, enveloping the summer house in a gentle embrace. As you sat on the balcony, sipping on a bottle of wine, you savored the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with Seungcheol.

The soft glow of the moonlight cast a warm, enchanting ambiance, and the distant sound of the television from within the house provided a pleasant background melody. You found yourself lost in the moment, feeling completely… content in his company.

As you let the flavors of the wine wash over your palate, you paused for a moment, your thoughts wandering to your recent travels. A hint of nostalgia tinged your voice as you spoke. "You know," you began, "I can't recall the last time I took a trip that wasn't connected to work."

You chuckled, swirling the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the liquid's dance. "Ah, yes," you responded with a wry smile. "Even if it is my... boss's house." you echoed his words, a hint of dry humor in your tone.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Feeling a bit cheeky, are we?" he taunted, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Watch your words, or I might have to dock your pay later."

You laughed, playfully sticking out your tongue at his jest. "Oh, you wouldn't dare," you retorted, a smirk on your lips. "What would the company do without my fabulous work?"

Seungcheol's grin widened, his eyes gleaming. "Ah, you've got me there," he conceded, raising a hand in mock surrender. "I guess I'll just have to find some other way to punish you for that sharp tongue of yours."

You smirked, taking another sip of your wine, and teasingly asked, "Oh, what are we talking about, indeed?" The question hung in the air, laced with a hint of provocation. You knew perfectly well what you were discussing, but you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further.

Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head at your playfulness. He leaned back in his chair, a suggestive glint in his eyes. "You know exactly what we're talking about," he replied.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Do I now?" you said, a mischievous smile on your lips. "And what might that be, pray tell?"

Seungcheol saw through your act, his gaze locking onto yours. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a sultry tone. "Oh, don't act all coy with me, Noona," he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. "You know exactly what we've been dancing around."

You stared into Seungcheol's eyes, the intensity of his gaze setting your heart racing.

Seungcheol's voice dropped to a whisper, his words laced with seductive undertones. "We've been dancing around it all night, skirting around the subject..." he murmured, grazing his fingers lightly against yours.

"But enough games, Noona... You know exactly where this is heading."

As Seungcheol got up from his seat and moved behind you, his hands gently massaging your shoulders and neck, you closed your eyes, enjoying the soothing touch of his hands. 

A soft moan escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but teasingly ask, "So sure of yourself, aren't you, Seungcheol? But what makes you so sure I want this, too?" 

"Ah, Noona, you're a difficult woman to read sometimes," he teased. "But the way you respond to my touch... I can feel the desire building in your body, just like mine."

Seungcheol chuckled, his fingers skillfully working the tension out of your shoulders. He apparently knew exactly how to make you melt under his touch. "Oh, Noona," he drawled, his voice laced with certainty and amusement. "Your body betrays you. Your sighs, your reactions... I can feel the way you lean into my touch. You can try to hide it all you want, but deep down, you want this just as much as I do."

You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words, your breath hitched in agreement to his perception, your body's response betraying your own longing.

Seungcheol's hands continued their ministrations, his touch growing bolder. "You can deny it if you want," he murmured, trailing gentle kisses along your neck, "But your body tells the truth, Noona."

As Seungcheol's lips gently traced along your neck, you found yourself melting even more under his touch, your defenses crumbling. But just as abruptly, you snapped out of the blissful haze, realizing the need to regain control over your emotions. You quickly stood up, breaking the intimate contact.

Seungcheol looked momentarily taken aback, you could see the flicker of confusion in his face, as he tried to understand the sudden change in your demeanor.

You caught a glimpse of his parted lips, still moist from their previous closeness against your skin.

"Noona..." he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "Is everything alright? Did I... did I go too far?"

Your breath shuddered nervously, emotions swirling within you like a raging tempest. You held onto his hands. You look into his eyes, seeing the desperation and longing there. He seems ready to ask for all of you, but the sheer intensity of his gaze makes you hesitate.

"Seungcheol," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that I don't want this but... your family, our work, the company... it's just–"

Before you can finish your sentence, Seungcheol silences you with a gentle finger on your lips. His smile widens, and with a reassuring expression, he shakes his head slightly. "Sshh," he whispers, his eyes filled with understanding. "I know what you're thinking, Noona. You're worried about everything that could happen. But right now, in this moment, all I want is to be close to you. Nothing else matters."

"Cheol–"

"You worry too much, Noona," he whispers gently, "Just let yourself feel what's between us."

"C'mere." As Seungcheol guides your steps towards the main bedroom, his warm presence enveloping you, he stands before you, gently lifting your chin.

His gaze captures yours, his voice filled with desire and intent. "For once in your life, Noona," he whispers, his touch on your chin light. "Do exactly what you really want."

With a confident smile, Seungcheol leans closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "Or," he continues, his words carrying a hint of playfulness, "I will."

His proximity ignited a spark within you, evoking a sense of youthful freedom.

Memories of missed opportunities and fleeting moments flood your mind. You bite your smile as you find yourself drawn to his infectious energy and the intoxicating vibe he exudes.

"I dare you," you murmur softly, your voice infused with anticipation. "Show me what you've got, Seungcheol."

As Seungcheol leaned in closer and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss. 一a long awaited kiss一His fingers tenderly brushed against the nape of your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, scrunching the dress between his fingers.

Your bodies pressed close together, you could feel the fervent thudding of Seungcheol's heart against your chest, mirroring the desperate beats of your own heart. His tongue danced with yours, igniting sparks of desire with every caress. As you allowed your fingers to bury into the softness of his hair, you heard a low, needy moan escape his lips.

As Seungcheol laid you on the expansive bed, his fingers gently encircling your waist, while he held one of your thighs, you felt a rush of heat as he settled between your legs.

The bed felt plush and inviting, while the soft silk of the sheets caressed your skin. With a suggestive motion, he simulated a thrust, and a gasp of pleasure escaped your lips, mingling with the intoxicating friction between your bodies.

Seungcheol gently lifted your dress over your head, revealing your naked form. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes roamed over your exposed skin, and a whine escaped from deep within his chest. He buried his face into your neck, his voice ragged as he whispered.

"Have you been walking around like this all night, Noona? Wearing nothing underneath that dress this whole time?"

You chuckled, biting your bottom lip.

"Can it be possible, Noona..." "You cooked with me," Seungcheol whispered, his voice growing heated with each word, "went shopping at the vineyard, wore that enticing dress, and were completely naked under it the whol– fuck." He couldn't help but let out a playful moan against your neck. "You're driving me crazy, Noona."

As Seungcheol's hand continued its languid path across your body, tracing a languid trail along the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and finally finding its destination between your thighs, he let out an appreciative hum of satisfaction. "Mmmm," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

He parts your thighs, his fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you with gentle, deliberate strokes. "You're already so wet," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "All this for me?" He slides a finger inside you, curling it just right, and then, adds another, making you arch your back and moan.

"Cheol," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets as your body trembles under his touch.

He smirks, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing inside you. The wet sounds are so loud that they almost drown out your whimpers. "Look at how you take my fingers," he murmurs, his voice dripping with lust. 

Your eyes follow his gaze, watching his fingers move in and out of you, slick with your arousal. The sight and the sound of it drive you wild, making you squirm and whimper even more. Seungcheol's thumb finds your clit, pressing and circling it in a way that makes you see stars.

"You're so tight Noona," he groans, his own arousal evident in his voice. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

You moan, feeling the pleasure build to an almost unbearable level. His fingers press deeper, and you clench around them, so tight that his fingers almost slide out of you with each pulse of your walls. Seungcheol bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure, but it's not working.

Without warning, he slides down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He devours your pussy with a hunger that makes you scream, your body flinching on the bed from the overwhelming sensation. His hot tongue flicks and swirls around your clit, and he drinks you in, savoring every drop of your arousal.

"Cheol, oh my god!" you cry out, your hands flying to his hair, fingers gripping tightly.

He holds you still, his strong hands pressing down on your hips as you writhe beneath him. The combination of his tongue and fingers is driving you wild, and you can feel the orgasm building rapidly. He slides one hand up your body, finding your nipple and rolling the bud between his fingers, making you burn in pleasure.

"You're so perfect," he murmurs against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. "So fucking sweet."

Your moans grow louder, the sensations overwhelming your senses. Seungcheol's tongue moves with expert precision, and when he adds another finger inside you, curling them too, you can't hold back any longer. Your orgasm crashes over you, and you scream his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Seungcheol doesn't stop, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm, extending it until you're a quivering, whimpering mess beneath him. Only when you're completely spent does he finally pull back, looking up at you with a satisfied smile. His lips glisten with your cum, and his eyes are dark with desire.

"That's my good girl," he praises, sliding back up your body to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only makes you want him more. "Now, let's see how tight you are around my cock."

Seungcheol starts to strip, his eyes never leaving yours as he reveals his toned, muscular body. You wait, watching him with the 'fuck me' eyes. As he finally removes the last piece of clothing, you seize the moment.

With a swift, confident movement, you grab him and push him back onto the bed. He falls back, his eyes widening in surprise. You straddle his naked body, your own arousal evident as you press your pussy against him. His hands slide to your hips, gripping you tightly.

He looks up at you, a devilish smile playing on his lips. "Fuck, I'm in trouble," he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration. "You're going to be the death of me."

You smirk, leaning down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your bodies aligning perfectly. "Then let's make it worth it," you whisper against his mouth, feeling his cock harden beneath you. 

You grab Seungcheol's cock, aligning it with your wet, eager pussy. As you slide down onto him, you feel the delicious stretch, and your head falls back, mouth slack with pleasure. Seungcheol bites his lip, almost tasting blood, his mind racing with random thoughts to avoid cumming too soon.

"Fuck," he moans, his voice strained as his eyebrows furrow in concentration.

You bottom out, and the sensation is overwhelming. Seungcheol's hands grip your hips tightly, his eyes dark with desire as he tries to keep his composure. The feeling of your tightness around him is almost too much to bear, but he holds on, savoring every moment.

"Too much already?" you purred. "We've barely begun, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath catching as your core quivered against his tantalizing touch.

As you raised your hips slightly, allowing yourself to sink back down onto Seungcheol, he let out a trembling breath, his eyes closing as his jaw went slack with pleasure. Despite his valiant attempt at forming a response, all that escaped his lips was a strained "Noona" as his body trembled beneath you. 

You start to ride him, bouncing up and down, your juices splashing at the base of his cock. Each time you sink down, Seungcheol's body shudders, moving in rhythm with you. His hands grip your hips, trying to guide your movements一but mostly just holding on for dear life.

"Fuck, Y/N" Seungcheol groans again, his voice filled with raw need. His eyes are glued to where your bodies join, watching as you take him in over and over. "You're so fucking perfect," he mutters, barely able to keep his composure as your tightness drives him wild. The sensation is almost too much, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this intense pleasure for as long as he can.

To give your legs a rest, you start to circle your hips, grinding on him, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your g'spot perfectly. Seungcheol's hands slide up your body, one settling on your breast, squeezing gently, while the other grips your waist, guiding your movements.

"Fuck, that's it," he groans, his eyes rolling back at the sensation. "You feel so fucking good." His voice is husky, filled with desperation as he tries to hold on. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in circles to match the rhythm of your hips.

You moan loudly, your head falling back as the pleasure builds even more intensely. "Cheol," you gasp, "I can't hold it much longer." Your body trembles, every nerve ending on fire.

"Don't hold back, baby, don't hold it" he urges, his voice strained but filled with encouragement. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."

You hold a little longer to ask him, "How does it feel, Seungcheol," you whisper, "to finally have the woman you've had a longstanding crush on, sitting on you like this?"

Seungcheol stutters, his breath hitching as he feels your walls clenching and unclenching purposely around him. "F-fuck, Noona," he groans, his voice shaky and full of raw need. "It's... it's everything I ever dreamed of and more."

You smirk, enjoying the power you have over him. "Is that so?" you tease, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. "I never knew you had such dirty fantasies about me."

He bites his lip, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "You have no idea," he admits, his voice low and strained. "I’ve wanted you for so long. Seeing you like this... feeling you like this... it’s driving me insane."

You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear. "Good," you whisper, clenching around him again. "I want you to remember this feeling, Seungcheol. Every time you look at me, I want you to remember how it feels to be inside me."

He shudders, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. "I won't forget," he promises, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "I'll never forget this, Noona."

You lean down further, your breath hot against his ear. "Seungcheol," you whisper, your voice sultry and teasing, "I can feel how close you are. Do you want to cum inside me? Do you want to fill me up with everything you've got?"

His eyes widen, and he lets out a strangled moan, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "Fuck, Noona, you're gonna make me—"

You cut him off with a sharp thrust, feeling his cock throb inside you. "Tell me how good it feels," you demand, your own voice trembling with need. "Tell me how much you love fucking me."

"It feels so fucking good," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips. "I love it, Noona. I love fucking you so much. You're so tight, so wet, I can't hold on—"

You can feel your own orgasm building, spurred on by his desperate words and the intensity of his gaze. "That's it, baby," you purr, riding him harder. "Cum for me, Seungcheol. Fill me up. I want to feel you cumming inside me."

His eyes roll back, and he grips you even tighter. "I'm gonna—fuck, I'm cumming—"

"Fu一... ahh,"

As Seungcheol's release fills you to the brim, you feel a warm, liquid sensation spreading inside you, overflowing with his essence. He holds you close, pressing your bodies together as if to recompose the bond between you.

Just as you're catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, Seungcheol suddenly flips you over onto the bed with a determined look in his eyes. His hands roam over your body, trailing fire wherever they touch, and you can feel the familiar ache building within you once again.

"I need to make you cum again Noona."  "Now, let me take care of you."

With a sudden burst of energy, Seungcheol flips you over onto your stomach, his hands roaming eagerly over your body as he prepares to make you cum all over again.

Seungcheol's cock enters you deep and sloppy, the abundance of lubrication spilling out around him. You scream into the sheets as he presses your head down onto the bed, his movements becoming more assertive as he thrusts into you with purpose.

Your breath grew sharper with every thrust, each one pushing you closer to the precipice.

"I've imagined this moment... countless times," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Having you like this... under me, writhing and gasping."

"So… Ah! Nasty, Seungcheol!" 

Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle at your teasing remark, his eyes filled with both affection and desire. As he continued to drive into you, he replied with a playful smack on the ample flesh of your ass.

"You have no idea," he murmured.

As you felt the wave of pleasure wash over you, your vision temporarily white in the overwhelming sensations, his name left your throat all whiny and strained. Seungcheol couldn't help but whine in response to his own heightened sensitivity. 

He wanted to please you, to bring you to climax, but the overwhelming experience only made him more reactive to your every move and sound.

The intensity of your climax began to subside, your body finally melting into the sheets, Seungcheol stumbled off the bed, his legs trembling from the intense sex. 

He made his way to the bathroom, seeking out some wipes to gently clean you up, his own breaths still ragged and unsteady.

As Seungcheol returned with the wipes, he found you lying there, chest heaving and breath labored. He crawled back into bed next to you, gently beginning to clean you up, his touch tender and caring.

"You alright there, Noona?" he asked, a hint of concern mingling with his breathless voice. "I didn't... hurt you, did I?"

You reached out, gently running your fingers through Seungcheol's messed hair, a weary yet satisfied smile playing on your lips.

"I'm okay, baby…" you whispered, your voice filled with contentment. 

He couldn't help but bite back a smile at your choice of words.

As Seungcheol continued his gentle ministrations, cleaning you up with the wipes, taking care to not overwhelm you when he brushes the wipes against your clit.

"Baby?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is that what you're calling me now?" Despite the teasing tone, there was a warmth in his eyes that betrayed his affection

"You're such a big baby Seungcheol…"

In response to your lighthearted comment, Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before responding.

"Well, I am big, you're not wrong about that," he replied, a mischievous grin on his face. "But I guess 'big baby' suits me just fine, especially if it's coming from you."

As Seungcheol finished cleaning you up, he tossed the wipes aside and draped an arm around your middle, pulling you closer. He leaned in, peppering soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, his touch gentle.

"And your image," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "riding me like that... it's something I'll never forget. It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."

"Did you like it?" You ask him, giving a glance over your shoulder. 

Seungcheol furrowed his brows, giving you a slightly exasperated look, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Noona, that was a rhetorical question, right?" he teased, a hint of affectionate amusement in his voice. "Of course I liked it."

[...]

In the soft morning light, sunlight trickled into the room, and you woke to the gentle sensation of Seungcheol's fingers running through your hair. As your eyes slowly opened, you found him already dressed, looking striking in the warm glow.

"Noona," he whispered, his gaze tender and filled with affection. "My parents... they're here."

Hearing this, you instantly sat upright in bed, your eyes widening in shock.

The realization that Seungcheol's parents had arrived hit you like a bolt of lightning. You hastily stumbled out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom, leaving him chuckling at your flustered state.

You quickly emerged from the bathroom, your hair still damp and clinging to your skin, a bath towel wrapped tightly around your body. You found Seungcheol lounging on the bed, casually scrolling through his phone.

"Cheol," you began with a slight scowl, "why didn't you tell me your parents arrived earlier? I could've prepared myself better!"

Seungcheol shrugged apologetically, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. "Honestly, Noona, I had no idea they were coming either," he admitted, offering a sincere smile. "They didn't give a heads up, and I couldn't warn you beforehand."

You let out a sigh, the lingering worry evident on your face. "It's not just about that," you murmured, "What will they think of me... sleeping with you… their son, my boss?"

"Noona, my parents aren't like that," he assured you, gently squeezing your hand. "They won't judge you based on your relationship to me or your job. They see the person you are, and that's all that matters."

He chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'm pretty sure they already love you just because you're so good at bossing me around."

You playfully gave Seungcheol's shoulder a gentle slap, your worries momentarily replaced by a smile. As you both left the bedroom, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you towards the living room.

You had worked closely with Seungcheol's father for years, and the thought of them knowing about your intimate relationship was nerve-wracking. Yet, Seungcheol's calming presence beside you helped ease your nerves.

Mr. Choi regarded you with a warm and teasing smile as you bowed in greeting. "Ah, there she is!" he exclaimed with feigned, feigned, disappointment. "The famous Y/N who refuses my invitations to the summerhouse. But with my son, suddenly she finds the time."

Mrs. Choi chuckled softly at her husband's jest, her eyes filled with warmth.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, totally embarrassed. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Choi," you apologized, your voice soft. "It's just... Seungcheol has a way of convincing me."

Mr. Choi's eyes gleamed with an affectionate pride as he spoke. "When Seungcheol was younger," he began, gesturing with his hands, "he used to come to me, curious about you. He would ask, 'Father, do you think Noona could be interested in someone like me?'"

His voice was tinged with amusement as he continued, "I always told him, 'Son, Y/N is quite the catch. You just need to be patient, and show her your true self.' And look where we are now."

"'How is Noona today?' 'What's Noona doing?' 'When is Noona coming to visit?'" His mom continues. 

Seungcheol's face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he hurriedly covered his face with his hands, visibly embarrassed by his father's words. You seized the opportunity to add to the teasing, a playful grin on your face.

"Oh, Cheollie," you teased, "So it's true, you were quite smitten with me even back then. How utterly endearing."

[svtiddiess]

Nom Nom

Synopsis: After what seems like years of asking, your boyfriend has finally allowed you to bite his tiddies.

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: suggestive, mini-series, established relationship

Rating: suggestive/mature

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: biting, marking, nipple play, dry humping, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This is kind of a continuation of the boyfriend texts post, but it's not really necessary to read it! It will help with some context though!

Thank you so much to @seokgyuu for beta reading!

Tagging @brownsugarbaybee as usual!

This feels very on-brand for me.

Read the sequel: Nom Nom: The Revenge

Read part 3: Nom Nom: The Gyutiddies

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

You giggle to yourself as you enter your shared apartment. You can't believe Seungcheol actually agreed to it; after what seems like months of asking, he's finally agreed to let you bite his tiddies. Although you had to admit you were only joking when you asked him those 500 or so times, you were actually kind of excited to finally have this opportunity.

As you enter the living room, you find Seungcheol seated on the couch in an oversized hoodie with a pout plastered on his face. You look at him quizzically as you approach him.

"I thought I asked you to be prepped and ready on the bed," you huff, half-joking with him.

He looks up at you with wide eyes, his pout somehow deepening. "You were actually serious about that?" he asks, exasperated.

"Of course I was serious," you scoff. "When am I ever not serious?"

"Pretty much all the time," he huffs. You let out a small "hey" and playfully hit his shoulder.

"Now stop dilly-dallying and go lie down on the bed," you demand, crossing your arms. He lets out a whine and wraps his arms around your torso, snuggling his face into your abdomen.

"Princess," he whines, then looks up at you with puppy eyes. "Please don't do this to me," he pleads.

"Nope, not happening. No amount of whining and pouting is getting you out of this Cheollie. It's too late now. You already agreed to it," you look down at him and grin. He groans and hides his face in your abdomen.

"Now chop chop. Or else no kisses for a week," you state. His head jerks up, and his eyes widen.

"No kisses for a week?!" He exclaims.

"Princess, you can't do this to me!" He complains.

"I can and I will," you huff. "Now hurry up!"

With a final grumble, he reluctantly lets go of you and stands up.

"Please let Cheollie go," he pouts and cups your face.

"Cheollie is about to get his ass whooped if he doesn't get on the bed within the next five seconds," you sarcastically grin.

Shoulders slumping at his last ditch effort, he makes his way to the bedroom with you closely following behind.

He sits on the bed, fidgeting with his fingers while staring at the floor. You giggle at how shy he seems.

"Well, what're you waiting for? Strip," you smirk.

He looks at you with a pout, a blush dusting his cheeks as he slowly reaches for the hem of his hoodie. He slowly pulls off his hoodie and quickly covers his chest with his arms, causing you to laugh. Your boyfriend, who was usually dominant in bed, is now acting like a shy virgin; you can't help but laugh at his actions.

"Stop laughing," he whines, blushing harder.

"I can't help it," you giggle. "You're acting like I've never seen you naked before."

"Well, it feels weird, okay?" He grumbles with a pout.

You can't help but coo at him. You move to straddle his lap and cup his blushing face.

"I promise I'll be gentle. You can ask me to stop anytime," you whisper. You lean in to gently kiss him as reassurance that you won't do anything he's uncomfortable with.

"Now, lean against the headboard," you murmur. You get off his lap to allow him to lean against the headboard and get comfortable.

Once he's comfortable, you straddle his waist and start leaving wet kisses along his jaw, helping him relax. You smile to yourself when you feel him slowly relax under you.

Slowly making your way to his lips, you capture them into a passionate kiss, moaning at the feeling of his tongue against yours. You lightly grind against him, causing him to groan into your mouth.

You pull away from him, both of you panting. He looks incredible beneath you, his eyes dazed, lips swollen, and breathless. You shift to leave kisses down his neck, your teeth grazing against his skin.

You hear his breath hitch when you reach his chest. They feel so firm beneath you that you can’t resist moving your hands to squeeze them.

"Princess," he groans.

"God, I love how firm your chest feels," you whine, squeezing him harder.

You lean down to lick one of his nipples, causing him to shut his eyes and moan out loud.

"F-Fuck princess," he groans as you start sucking on the bud.

He throws his head back and shuts his eyes when he feels your teeth lightly digging into his skin. You start sucking on the bud, causing him to let out a string of curses. After finishing marking the bud, you move on to the other one, giving it equal attention. He lets out a loud groan when you pinch his puffed-up nipple. You feel his bulge growing as he ruts against you.

"Feel good Cheollie?" You purr after sitting up to look at him.

"Feels so good princess," he moans, eyes screwed shut.

You grin, then lean down to start marking his chest. He lets out a long groan and arches his back. Small pants and moans escape his lips as your marks get deeper and rougher. Blotches of red and purple slowly bloom across his chest, painting it with your mark. His hips jerk up, and a whimper escapes his lips when you bite down particularly hard.

Enjoying his reactions, you continue to abuse his chest, savouring every moment. You lean back to take a minute and cherish your work. You beam when you see his chest covered in bruises, bites, and saliva.

"Look at me Cheollie," you purr. He opens his eyes to look at you, his eyes blown out and a fucked out expression on his face.

"Are you alright baby?" You murmur, caressing his flushed cheeks. He nods breathlessly, the corner of his lips lifting up into a fucked out smile.

Just then, an idea strikes you, and you smirk before leaning in close to his ear.

"I'm going to mark you with my initials," you purr. "After all, an artist has to sign their painting to show who it belongs to, right baby?" You giggle. You feel his dick twitch at your words.

"You like that Cheollie? You like being marked by me?" You smirk. He lets out a soft whimper and grinds against you, causing you to let out a giggle.

"I am an artist, and you are my canvas baby," you whisper before shifting back to his chest.

You lean down and begin biting and sucking the skin, marking your initials into his left chest cause it's closer to his heart, making sure they take up most of the space. You have to show him and everyone else who belongs in his heart, of course. You hear him moan and groan under you, his hands on your hips to keep you steady. After embedding your initials into his skin, you sit up and admire your handiwork.

You look down and pout, still unsatisfied with your work, feeling like something was missing. That's when it hits you; you giggle as you lean back down to encapsulate your initials with a heart.

"Princess, what—" his question is abruptly cut off by a moan as you bite down harder than usual, silently asking him to simply let you do what you want.

You sit up after finishing the heart, finally satisfied with your work.

"So pretty Cheollie," you purr as you gently trace your fingers across your artwork. "I need to take a picture."

"A picture?" he asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face.

"Of course! I need to forever encapsulate my masterpiece after all," you giggle. You shift to reach for your phone on the side table, causing him to groan.

"Princess, you're killing me here," he mutters.

"Hush! I'm busy taking pretty pictures of my pretty man," you grin as you proceed to take multiple pictures of him.

Your words make him blush, and you squeal, thrilled that the pictures are turning out even better than you expected. He looks so pretty with your mark on him, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes dazed. You're definitely going to use them as your wallpaper for a while.

"Enough," he growls, snatching your phone and tossing it back onto the table. You let out a gasp when he suddenly flips you over, him now on top of you.

"I've let you have your fun, but now it's my turn."

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Aisles of Affection

› content ┆ idol scoups x fem reader, established relationship, jealousy, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 2.2k. ⌁ summary ┆ After a hectic week, Seungcheol and you decide to go on a grocery shopping date. As you stroll through the aisles, picking out ingredients for a cozy dinner, an encounter with a supermarket worker triggers a wave of jealousy in Seungcheol.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated!

It had been one of those relentlessly exhausting weeks—the kind that stretched like a rubber band pulled too tight, ready to snap at any moment. Between work deadlines, classes, and running errands, you and Seungcheol had barely seen each other. So when Friday evening finally rolled around, you decided to do something simple yet meaningful: spend the evening together, just the two of you. A casual date at the supermarket to pick out ingredients for a cozy dinner sounded perfect. You didn’t need anything fancy to enjoy each other's company; just a quiet evening to unwind.

As you made your way to the nearby supermarket, Seungcheol grabbed a cart, pushing it alongside you with his strong, sure hands. You walked in hand-in-hand, his grip warm and firm as he led you to grab the cart. There was something so comforting about its simplicity. You didn’t need extravagant dates when the best part of the day was always being with him. His presence was steady and comforting, like an anchor in the middle of a storm. Even something as mundane as grocery shopping felt special with him by your side.

“Should we start with vegetables or fruit?” he asked, his voice warm and casual, his eyes scanning the signs hanging above the aisles.

“Fruit,” you replied without hesitation. “I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

He smirked, giving you a teasing look. “You’re always in the mood for something sweet.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Can you blame me? Life’s better with dessert.”

His smile widened at that, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way you loved. “Alright, fruit it is then.”

As you made your way to the produce section, you noticed Seungcheol looking over at you every now and then, his gaze soft and thoughtful. It was the little things like that—those quiet moments of tenderness—that reminded you just how much he cared. He wasn’t always the type to say it out loud, but his actions spoke volumes. The way he gently guided you through crowds, how he’d grab things off the highest shelves without you asking, or how he’d always make sure your favorite snacks made it into the cart.

Seungcheol was the type of boyfriend who always paid attention to the little things. He knew you loved cherries, so of course, he steered the cart straight to the fruit section. He began scanning the shelves with his sharp eyes, intent on picking the best ones for you. It didn’t take long to reach the rows of colorful fruit. Your eyes immediately went to the cherries, plump and bright red under the fluorescent lights. You reached out to grab a pack, but Seungcheol beat you to it, picking it up and examining it with a critical eye.

“They don’t look that fresh,” he said, frowning as he held the pack closer for inspection. “Let me see if there are better ones.”

You chuckled softly, amused by how seriously he took even the smallest details. “Seungcheol, they’re just cherries. I’m sure they’re fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. “No way, I’m getting you the best ones.” His gaze flicked to a nearby worker stocking the fruit section, a young guy with a friendly smile who seemed happy to help.

And that’s when things started to shift.

The worker noticed Seungcheol’s approach and walked over. His name tag read *Minho* in neat black lettering. He glanced between you two before stepping closer, offering a polite nod. “Hey, can I help you with anything?” he asked, his tone overly friendly as he glanced in your direction, giving you a smile that lingered just a bit too long.

And that’s when you felt the subtle shift.

Seungcheol, who had been calm and easygoing just moments ago, suddenly straightened, his grip tightening ever so slightly on the cherry pack. His jaw set a little firmer, and his eyebrows narrowed just a fraction, barely noticeable, but enough for you to catch it. You sensed the subtle shift in his mood, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. Was he... jealous?

“We were just looking for the freshest cherries,” Seungcheol said, his voice polite but a little sharper than usual. “These ones don’t seem great.”

Minho looked at you again, clearly unaware of the silent territorial tension now simmering between you and Seungcheol, smiled, and nodded. “Oh, those are great, but if you want the best ones, we’ve got a new batch in the back. I can go grab them for you if you’d like.” He flashed you another grin before glancing at Seungcheol, who was glaring at him.

You noticed then that Minho’s gaze lingered on you a little longer than it should have, the kind of glance that seemed more friendly than professional. It wasn’t inappropriate by any means, but it was enough to catch Seungcheol’s attention. His hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him, his fingers curling possessively on your skin. His grip was gentle, but there was a clear message behind it.

“No need,” Seungcheol replied quickly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ll take these.”

You could feel the simmering frustration rolling off him in waves, though he tried to keep his expression neutral. Minho blinked, clearly catching on to the underlying tension but still oblivious to its cause. “Alright, well, if you need anything else, just let me know,” he said, shooting you one last smile before walking off to help another customer.

As soon as Minho was out of earshot, Seungcheol exhaled slowly, his shoulders still tense. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers tightened on your waist, his face drawn into a tight line. He didn’t say anything as you continued down the aisles, but you knew him well enough to understand what was going on. Your usually confident and calm boyfriend was feeling... jealous.

The thought of it almost made you laugh. Choi Seungcheol, leader of Seventeen, who could command attention with just a look, was jealous over a random supermarket worker? It was adorable, really.

You leaned closer to him as you walked past the dairy section, nudging him gently. “You okay, Cheol?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

He didn’t look at you at first, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though the tone of his voice said otherwise.

But he wasn’t fine, and you knew it. You could see the way his jaw was clenched, the way his eyes flicked toward where Minho had gone as if to make sure the guy wasn’t still looking at you. It would have been endearing if it wasn’t so out of character for him.

“You sure? Because you’ve been acting a little... off since the fruit section,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as he leaned against the cart, his eyes searching yours. There was something vulnerable in his gaze that made your heart squeeze a little. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, though you could tell he was struggling to brush it off. After a moment, he turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. “It’s just—did you see the way that guy was looking at you?” he asked, his voice low, almost frustrated.

You blinked, genuinely surprised. “Minho?”

“Yeah, him, Minho,” Seungcheol said, his brow furrowing, nearly spitting out the name like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. “He was practically undressing you with his eyes.”

You tried to hold back a laugh, but the seriousness in Seungcheol's expression made it impossible. You let out a soft chuckle, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Cheol, he was just being friendly. I doubt he even thought about me like that.”

But Seungcheol wasn’t having it. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Well, I noticed. And I didn’t like it.”

There was a pause as you took in his words, your heart fluttering at the possessiveness in his tone. He wasn’t usually this direct about his feelings, but when he was, it always caught you off guard. You smiled up at him, running your fingers through his dark hair, trying to soothe his worries. Choi Seungcheol—your confident, cool-headed boyfriend—was feeling jealous because of a brief interaction with a random supermarket worker. It was kind of adorable, really.

You leaned up on your tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek, your fingers grazing his jawline. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else, Cheol,” you murmured against his skin. “I’m yours, remember? I always have been.”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a protective embrace. “I know...,” he whispered, his tense expression softening just a bit, but the jealousy still lingered in his eyes. “I just hate the idea of someone else thinking they have a chance with you.”

You leaned up on your tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away as he kissed you back. His arms tightened around you, anchoring you in place as if he needed to remind himself that you were still there, still his.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady

 beat of his heart as you stood there, cocooned in your own little world amidst the bustle of the supermarket. No one could ever compare to him, and you hoped he knew that. “You’re the only one for me,” you reassured him softly.

Seungcheol was quiet for a moment, his hand gently rubbing circles on your back. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, the edge of frustration melting away. “I know. I guess I just get... protective sometimes.”

You smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. “Sometimes? Mmmh… You’re always protective.”

Seungcheol chuckled at that, his mood finally lightening. He gave you a sidelong glance, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Can you blame me? Well, you’re worth protecting.”

As you finished up your shopping and headed to the checkout, the earlier tension seemed like a distant memory. Seungcheol was back to his usual self, joking with you as you debated which snacks to buy. And when you passed by Minho one last time, you couldn’t help but notice the way Seungcheol shot him a quick, pointed look, as if to silently say, *She’s mine.*

And honestly? You kind of loved it.

That night, as you cooked dinner together in the warmth of your small apartment, the earlier jealousy seemed almost silly. But deep down, you knew it meant something more. Seungcheol loved you fiercely, protectively, in a way that made you feel safe and cherished. And even if it meant dealing with the occasional amount of jealousy, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because at the end of the day, you knew one thing for sure: Choi Seungcheol was your boyfriend, and no one—not even a flirty supermarket worker—could ever change that.

Later that evening, after you had returned to your apartment and started cooking together, sneakily eating cherries at times while still thinking back to the supermarket, Seungcheol stood beside you, focused on chopping vegetables while you stirred the pot on the stove. The warmth of the kitchen, the quiet clinking of utensils, and the soft hum of your shared space felt like a balm to the stress of the week.

“So,” you said casually, breaking the comfortable silence. “About earlier…”

Seungcheol glanced at you, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Nope. I just think it’s cute that you got jealous over a supermarket worker.”

He groaned, running a hand over his face as if to hide his embarrassment. “I wasn’t jealous—I was just… being cautious.”

“Sure thing, darling,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “Whatever you say.”

He sighed dramatically, setting the knife down before turning to face you. “Fine, maybe I was a little jealous. But can you blame me? You’re the most amazing person in the world, and I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a shot with you.”

You felt a surge of affection as you reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently against his skin. “You have nothing to worry about, Seungcheol. I’m all yours, forever.”

His eyes softened at your words, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. When you pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I love you,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice making your heart swell.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the kitchen and the comforting presence of the man you loved, you knew one thing for certain: no matter what, no one could ever come between you.

› anonymous review form

yes i had to make it about cherries out of every fruits available... i might just be obsessed thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! don't forget to like, reblog, comment ^^

❀ a/n┆I've been writing a longer fic.. I've no idea if it will ever come to life so I do have a shorter and modified version coming at some point

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip"🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[daechwitatamic]

cherrybomb || csc

(banner by @sailorrhansol)

cherrybomb seungcheol x afab reader || angst smut fluff || exes2lovers, pacific rim universe NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: Piloting a jaeger requires a rare ability called drifting - a neural connection with your co-pilot. You and Seungcheol are masters of the drift... until you have something in your head that you don't want him to see.

wc: 19.5k

warnings: language, heavy angst with happy ending, fight scenes, fight scenes written by an author with zero fighting or martial arts knowledge lmfao thus they are vague as possible, feelings heavy plot light and smut light, kissing and pretty generic (and brief) p in v smut

Author's note: thank you for @sailorrhansol for 1) accidentally sparking this idea, 2) agreeing to collab with me, 3) reading this along the way and hyping me up, and 4) beta-ing my mistakes, a million smooches for you ily

This fic takes place in the Pacific Rim universe but I honestly don't think you need to know the lore, everything you need to know should be explained. If you think something is unclear without prior pacific rim knowledge, shoot me a message privately and I'll make some edits and credit you for the insight!

Also in this universe: storm breaker by @/sailorhansol

Teaser:

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “You were there. You saw what happened. Seungcheol and I can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing has mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did then.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

Playlist: you're the smoke in my gun, blowin' like cherry bombs...

The first time you ever saw Choi Seungcheol, he was flipping a man four years his senior over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground. Satisfied, he staggered backwards, chest heaving from exertion, eyes narrowed in preparation for the next move.

That’s what Seungcheol did - he leveled whatever was in front of him, and he started watching for what was coming next before the body could even hit the ground.

That’s what made him a great jaeger pilot. Not the brute strength - strong men are dime a dozen, always have been - but the watching.

You’d marked him as your first choice.

You were both nineteen. You’d grown up in the Shatterdome, the only child to a couple who piloted a neon green jaeger named Charron’s Revenge. You knew everything about how jaegers and their teams worked by the time you were nine. You started training to fight years before that. There was never a question that you would follow in your parents’ giant, mechanical footsteps one day. You just needed the right partner.

You needed Seungcheol.

The jaeger program didn’t turn away recruits - everyone could do something - but there was an organized process to match up compatible pilots. Applying recruits would fight before an audience of previously-accepted but currently-unmatched potential pilots. The pilots would rank the fighters, choosing their top five based on perceived potential for compatibility.

Then, the roles would switch. The applicants became the audience. The audience became the show.

When it was your turn to fight, you silently pleaded with the universe that Seungcheol would mark you high as well. This was the only guarantee that you’d get a chance to spar with him, to test it out before the Marshall, who would make the final call.

Let him see, you begged. Let him see how perfectly we’d work together.

And, by some miracle, he did. In fact, he rated you first, as well.

Your sparring match went exactly how you expected - he barreled at you, and you dodged every move. He could easily take you out with a single blow, but he couldn’t get his hands on you, not when you used his own inertia against him at every turn. What you didn’t expect was your own inability to land a shot. For the whole fight, you were unable to move out of the defensive - keeping out of his reach took all of your effort.

It was a draw - the first sign of strong compatibility.

You didn’t talk after the match - your father whisked you away to recover before your second-rated match, and you didn’t see Seungcheol for the rest of the day.

The second-rated match was a dud. But you already knew, even then, that it didn’t matter.

You’d met your co-pilot. You’d found your partner.

—

He found you in the mess hall that night, dropping into an empty spot on the other side of the table, his tray in his hands. His black hair was loose and wavy, and his right arm sported a sizeable bruise that he definitely didn’t get from you.

“I know who you are,” he said by way of greeting. You raised a brow at him, waiting. “Your parents piloted Charron’s Revenge.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “That better not be why you picked me.”

He gave his head an annoyed little flick. “Of course not. I picked you because you’re fluid - and I’m not.”

Appeased, you felt your hackles settle back down. “That’s true,” you allowed. “You’re not fluid. But you’re purposeful, and-”

You were interrupted when Yoon Jeonghan dropped into the seat to your left, chuckling under his breath as he fixed his long, dark hair into a spiky ponytail at the back of his head.

“Cherry, did you hear?” he asked you, ignoring the new-comer. “The crew for Fatal Rapids got called back in for misconduct.”

“Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan,” you said, introducing the two young men. “Hannie does more than gossip, I promise. He’s one of the pilots for Devil’s Advocates. Their drop stats are insane.”

“In practice only,” Jeonghan demurred. “For now.”

“Cherry?” Seungcheol parroted, raising a dark brow. “That’s not what I wrote on my paper earlier.”

“Just a nickname,” you explained. When you were very small, you’d struggled with the name of your parents’ jaeger, calling it Cherry’s Revenge instead of Charron’s, and the crew - who doted on you like their own - started the habit of calling you Cherry. Somehow, it had spread, and stuck. “Only my parents use my real name. But you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“No,” he said, frowning as if deeply considering his options. “I like it.”

You folded your arms on the table, leaning in to peer at Seungcheol. “So, what’s your story? You’ve heard of me. I haven’t heard of you.”

He shrugged, glanced around, then decided he could talk freely. There’s something about being in a room that’s positively teeming with people and conversation - it gives you privacy without feeling too intimate. You’re not alone.

“Not much of a story, not like you,” he admitted. “I grew up thinking I’d take over my dad’s business. We lost my dad… then, we lost the business. I have no marketable skillset, and university was out of the question. But…” He trailed off, then met your gaze firmly. Something in his look demanded you forgo any pity or sympathy, demanded you take him seriously. “I’m strong. So I came here. I came to fight.”

You sidestepped the bruises he’d bared. “Not like me,” you repeated with a bit of a scoff. “I hate to disappoint you, but my parents are the pilots - the story is theirs. I don’t have one, not yet.”

Something playful glinted in his eyes, the first true sign of personality you’d seen. “So all the rumors about the Princess of the Shatterdome aren’t true?”

Your jaw dropped. You’d heard the nickname before - it was never meant nicely. You tried to ignore it as best you could - people could think what they wanted. When you had a crew, when you had a jaeger, you’d be able to prove them wrong. “What rumors?”

“You’re spoiled,” Jeonghan supplied, having decided he was part of the conversation after all. “Entitled.”

You spluttered as Jeonghan stood, giving you a cheerful pat on the shoulder. “And bitchy! That’s just what I’ve heard. Of course I know better. Anyway, I’ve got to go. Love ya!”

You stared incredulously after him as he disappeared, your face burning with embarrassment and your heart hammering with adrenaline. Fight, your systems told you.

If only you could.

Seungcheol bit back a smile, reaching out to pat your arm placatingly.

“I don’t…” you started to say, but your voice caught in your throat. You cleared it, tried again. “I don’t think I really deserve all that.”

He nodded, lips pushed into a semblance of a thoughtful pout. “What I’d heard,” he said calmly, “is that you’re a hell of a fighter, scary smart, and that you take no shit. Unless it’s from your friends, apparently.”

This made a bitter little laugh bubble from you. You still simmered with humiliation, feared that maybe he’d decide he didn’t want to co-pilot with you after all.

“I think it’s up to you which story gets told,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “That’s what I always said. So… let’s get started.”

—

You and Seungcheol lucked out - the team that had been recalled for misconduct were terminated from their posts in the weeks following the sparring trials, and their jaeger Fatal Rapids had been disassembled, the parts up for grabs.

You and Seungcheol repurposed Rapids’s main frame, your crew working to individualize the bot to your needs as best they could. You splurged on quad-processors for her legs to allow your jaeger to keep up with how you move - quick and lithe. Seungcheol lobbied for (and won) some extra power in the top half, and you compromised and chose a mix of red and blue sections for her paintjob.

Duellona Fury, you named her. Duellona for you, the destroyer. Fury for Seungcheol, because that was where his fight came from.

You got to know Seungcheol’s fury very well. Especially when you started trying to drift.

None of it happened fast - not the building of your machine, nor your neural handshake. In fact, you didn’t pilot Duellona Fury together for a whole calendar year.

You started with physical compatibility - you sparred almost all day, every day. You fought - with each other and against each other - until all you could do was lay on the ground and pant, blinking to make the ceiling stay in focus.

Seungcheol may not have grown up training in the Shatterdome the way you did, but he kept up without complaint. You learned his way - force and strength - and he learned the way you favored - to weave and dodge.

The fighting was the easy part.

You had never drifted with someone you had true drift compatibility with. Seungcheol had never drifted at all. The Marshall wouldn’t even consider hooking the two of you up to the machine until you went through the proper training.

On the day you and Seungcheol were officially declared as co-pilots-in-training, you both stood below the half-built shell of your towering jaeger, sparks flying and drills screaming as the crew worked on her.

Your Marshall looked seriously at his new team-in-training. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll meditate together. Talk to each other. Get deep about it. If you’ve talked about it out here-” he swept an arm across the deck, “-it won’t take hold so strongly in there.” He’d jabbed a finger in the upward direction of Duellona Fury.

Seungcheol didn’t look at you, nor the Marshall. Instead, he kept his eyes on Duellona's unfinished frame, stories above you. “Yes, Sir,” he said steadily.

Your parents weren’t technically retired yet, the year you and Seungcheol started training together. Charron’s Revenge still sat in the well below the Shatterdome. They still lived on the base, still took part in daily training. They hadn’t been called into a fight in years, though; the assignments went to the younger crews.

You took dinner in their quarters instead of the mess hall, that night.

“Congratulations,” your father said warmly from across the table. “You worked hard to get here.”

“Thank you,” you said, feeling shy beneath the praise. “I hope the drift will work for me and Choi Seungcheol.”

“What do you think of him?” your mother had asked, her sharp eyes honing in on you, watching your reactions.

“I think he’s a great fighter,” you said. “The rest… I guess I’ll have to learn.”

“Do you trust him? Can you trust him out there, when the sea and the wind are trying to knock you down, and hell itself rises up from the depths?”

You swallowed. She’s right for her intensity - they will be putting their daughter’s life in her co-pilot’s hands, every time there’s a fight. You knew firsthand how terrifying it was to stand in the tech bay and wait, not knowing if your loved ones will make it back.

You thought about how you and Seungcheol fight together in the sparring rooms. You thought about how you weaved and your opponent followed your movement, only to be knocked sideways. You thought of how Seungcheol followed your motion backwards, ducked in tandem with you to avoid a hit, and how you followed his momentum forward and up to attack. Your bodies followed each other like they were magnetized. And Seungcheol was always watching for the next hit.

“Yes,” you said, so quietly that you cleared your throat and said it again. “Yes, I trust him.”

“Then we wish you luck,” your father said, and raised his glass. “To Duellona Fury.”

“To Duellona Fury,” you echoed.

On your way out of the quarters, later, you slowed as you passed the wall where they hung their accolades and awards, the newspaper clippings, photos, and medals. Before your eyes they aged - the photographs changing through the years, no longer showing a bright, fiery couple, instead displaying proof of passing time: a baby bump, then a toddler, then a child beaming alongside them as if she’d done what they had done; greying hairs, softening bodies, deepening of wrinkles. Then the pictures stopped.

You never asked them if they missed it.

—

You and Seungcheol started meditating together the next morning; it seemed logical to begin at the easiest step. In an empty sparring room, you sat facing each other, knees touching.

“Have you done this before?” you asked, as you both settled in, shifting weight and adjusting ankles.

“Not with someone else,” he admitted, lips protruding in a bit of a pout. “Only alone.”

You nodded. You’d grown up learning all of this - the right way to fight as a team member, how to be in tune for a neural connection. It led to you teaching Seungcheol often - yet when you fought together, any leadership fell away.

“Normally,” you explained, “you focus on your breath, keeping your mind clear. But for our practice, you want to focus on our breath. We breathe together. And when your mind wanders, your awareness should be coming to peace with my presence there. Like, making a path for the neural connection - for later. So there’s no resistance.”

“Have you done this before?” Seungcheol asked.

You wobbled your head around - not yes, but not no. “I’ve practiced it - I’ve done the meditation with partners. But I’ve never moved forward to an actual drift with anyone.”

This seemed to appease him, and he settled his weight backwards, letting his hands rest near his knees.

You let your eyes float closed and inhaled, listening and feeling for Seungcheol’s inhale to end, letting your breath out when he did. It took no time to match your breaths, to let your mind go blissfully quiet. You focused on feeling open, readable - any thought that floated through your mind, you pretended he could hear, too. You tried to feel and release any defensiveness, any urge to close off.

When the timer went off, it surprised you. You opened your eyes, and the feeling that struck you was this -

It was surprising to see Seungcheol before you. It hadn’t felt like he was beside you. It had felt like he was you.

You meditated, you fought, and finally, you talked.

Laying on the sparring room floor, your head somewhere near Seungcheol’s shins, he asked you, “Where do you wish you were right now? If you weren’t here.”

You laughed at yourself before answering, knowing how silly you would sound. “In a tree.”

A disbelieving smile played on his lips, almost as if he wasn’t sure you weren’t making fun of him somehow. “A tree?”

“No, really,” you insisted, still smiling a little. “There’s not a lot of nature here, in case you didn’t notice. I grew up in the Dome - never got to leave, much.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond to this, just nodded like he understood, his small smile going a bit tight around the edges.

You frowned, reading him exactly. “You think I’m sheltered,” you observed. It wasn’t a question. He couldn’t say no.

He looked at you, then. “You were sheltered,” he said, voice low. “But when I say it, I don’t mean naive. I just think… there’s a lot of world out there. A lot of things to see. You won’t see any of it if you spend your entire life under the Dome.”

You nod, accepting this. “I won’t see any of it if it gets destroyed, either. There’s a lot of world out there - that we’re trying to keep safe.”

Seungcheol watched you intently for a moment, lips downturned and gaze heavy. Then, he asked, “Have you ever seen a kaiju? I mean - in person?”

“Sort of,” you mumbled.

He’d rolled from his back to his front, closer to you, putting you shoulder to shoulder. “Kind of seems like a yes-or-no question.”

Your lips twisted. “Then, no. But I’ve stood in the bay and listened to Mission Control talk my mom and dad through a fight dozens of times, watched Charron’s Revenge on the screens and prayed I wouldn’t see her get sawed in half.”

You stopped, trailed a finger through the thin layer of dirt on the floor. “I know it’s not the same as looking one in the face myself,” you whispered. “But the fear… shouldn’t that fear count, shouldn’t it feel the same?”

Seungcheol swallowed, trailed his own finger through the dirt until his fingertip just barely touched yours. It felt like energy sizzled in the centimeter between your pointer and his.

“When Menaceclaw attacked,” he said, “he missed my home by one block. We watched him go by from the sidewalk. I wasn’t even as tall as his foot. But even with him towering over the buildings, taking them down without even trying, I don’t think what I felt was afraid. I think I just felt resigned. Like I knew, at seven, that even though we survived this one… nothing was going to be… the same, or okay. I don’t know.”

“You knew what you lost,” you said quietly. “Part of you did.”

He looked up at you, nudged his finger into yours. “You never knew anything different. It wasn’t a loss. The fear was just always part of the deal.”

You rolled sideways, laying your head on your bicep for a pillow, regarding the dark-eyed, dark-haired young man across from you. His face scrunched in a laugh, brows furrowing and lips pouting.

“What?” he asked through the quiet laugh. “Why are you looking at me?”

“What else?” you mused. “What else am I going to find when we go tiptoeing through your memories?”

He smiled faintly and then mirrored you, laying his head on his arm, his eyes swimming as he thought.

“A lot of my family, probably,” he said. “A lot of fighting. Menaceclaw. Probably some very mid sex.”

You laughed without meaning to. “My condolences?”

He grinned at you, pleased. “Eh, what can you do? I try to treat everything like a learning experience.”

You laughed again, and his smile grew, gums showing. “What about you?” he asked off-handedly.

“Mid sex?” you asked, eyebrows raising. “I hate to inform you, Choi Seungcheol, but I don’t do anything mid.”

“No,” he protested, laughing, reaching out to gently shake your shoulder. “I meant - what will we see when it’s your turn?”

“The Dome,” you said, half-joking - but it was true. “Training. My parents. Their fights, their accomplishments.”

And, as a true drift partner should, he understood what you weren’t saying.

“We’ll have our turn,” he promised, pushing himself to sit up, then stand, reaching down to help you up. “We’re gonna be fucking unstoppable. Let’s go again.”

Fire sparking behind your ribs, you nodded seriously, then reached up to take his hand.

—

Weeks of sparring melded into months of meditation and talking. The next phase of training co-pilots was learning to drift in one of the simulators - but not in a jaeger. Not yet.

You and Seungcheol finished training in one of the sparring rooms shortly before dinner would be served in the mess hall.

“Meet you there?” you asked, still half-breathless, your body starting to ache as the adrenaline from a fight melted away.

“Sure,” he agreed, and you disappeared into the changing rooms, scrubbing the sweat and dirt away as quickly as you could. You changed into something clean and made your way to the mess hall.

You scanned for familiar faces, frowning when your normal table seemed to be occupied by a team of new recruits that you didn’t know.

Seungcheol appeared at your elbow, frowning dramatically. “Our table,” he whined.

“There’s Chan and Wylie,” you said, nodding to another corner where your friends sat practically on top of each other. Chan and Wylie had never understood personal space, not when it came to one another. They barely noticed when you and Seungcheol plopped onto the benches next to them, but Seungkwan did.

“You’re bleeding, Cherry,” he said, before inhaling an entire mouthful of rice.

You started to scan your arms - you didn’t feel pain anywhere - but Seungcheol found it first, gingerly swiping his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Sorry, Cherry,” he murmured. “I should’ve pulled that punch.”

“No you shouldn’t have,” you grumbled, swatting at his hand and wiping roughly at the spot, your hand coming away with a small smear of red - nothing to be alarmed about. It would stop on its own. “You pull shots in practice, you’ll hesitate in the field.”

“She’s right,” Chan said from his physical tangle with Wylie. “What you practice will show up in your muscle memory. You’ve got to mean it, every time.”

Wylie reached across his arms and took a bite from his plate, then asked, “Did you guys see the new jaeger?”

“I did,” Seungkwan said eagerly. “Chaser Supernova, or something like that? She’s smaller, but she’s supposed to be fast.”

“Is that her team at our normal table?” you asked dryly, shooting the rookies a dark look over your shoulder. Seungcheol jostled you playfully, sending you a smile that brought you back.

The bench dipped to your left, and you turned to see Soonyoung - one of Seungkwan’s two co-pilots - settle in.

“Talking about Supernova?” he asked, hands busy opening his drink. “They seem okay - they’re a trio, like us.”

“Where is Seokmin?” Seungkwan asked, scanning the room. “I haven’t seen him in like two hours.”

“Talking to Jihoon, I think,” Soonyoung answered absently, focused on his meal. “He lost another co-pilot today.”

“Not again,” you and Seungcheol both blurted, matching levels of exasperation.

“That was freaky,” Wylie said, just as Chan told you, “You two are acting like us, now.”

“We do not need another Chan-and-Wylie,” Seungkwan said seriously, shaking his head.

Seungcheol sent you a sideways, sheepish grin.

“We won’t be,” he promised the group, but his eyes were still on you.

—

The simulators were built to be exact replicas of the conn-pod, so that trainees could get used to the feeling of being strapped in, of moving with the gear. But the real purpose was to practice the neural handshake without risking damage - to the jaeger, to the tech bay, to each other.

“Don’t be nervous,” you told Seungcheol as the tech team worked around you both like a choreographed dance.

“I’m never nervous,” he said, suddenly cocky.

If you could reach his hand from where you were strapped in, you would have. If you understood anything about Seungcheol - if any part of him mirrored you - it was the way he showcased bravado, the way he used it as his most-familiar mask.

“It’s only practice,” you reminded him. “And it’s only me.”

He licked his lips quickly, eyes darting to the side and then back to you. Then, he gave you a small nod.

“Normally,” your chief tech - a beautiful woman with jet-black hair named Nainsi - told you, “right now, you would be ready for the drop. In the simulator, we skip that step because we aren’t dropping onto a jaeger. Instead, we’ll engage the pilot to pilot connection protocol sequence.”

You and Seungcheol nod in tandem.

“You’re all good?” Nainsi checks. “Then I’m going back into the tech bay - you’ll hear me through the intercom.”

Alone in the simulator, you met Seungcheol’s gaze and couldn’t help the excited grin that spread across your face. Finally, finally you were here. Once you could do this successfully, the next step was to fight in your own jaeger - to drop into Duellona Fury and walk into the sea.

He didn’t return your smile, instead giving you a tight nod, expression serious.

Over the intercom, you said clearly, “Ready and aligned.”

Nainsi answered, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

You took a deep breath and steeled yourself as the artificial voice of the simulator’s tech system spoke around you, 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

At first, you thought something went wrong. Everything went red behind your eyelids, and you blinked, instinctively trying to clear it away.

The red faded, and you found yourself in Seungcheol’s childhood home. You didn’t know how you knew that - you just knew. It was as familiar to you, inside the drift, as your own. You knew that to your left was a small kitchen with two broken floor tiles; you knew - without having ever seen it - that to your right was a narrow hallway that led to a bathroom and two small bedrooms.

Two small boys played on the carpet; rather, the smaller one played with some toy cars while the other watched the television with rapture. Behind them, at the kitchen table, a woman typed busily on an outdated laptop, bags heavy under her eyes.

Somewhere around you, a voice floated by, telling you, neural handshake strong and holding.

You could see Seungcheol in your periphery - the adult Seungcheol, the Seungcheol of now - as he looked at his mother, his brother, himself.

“It’s not real,” you reminded him gently. “It’s just a memory.”

“I know,” he said back, voice hushed, as if he might scare them away. “It’s just… good to see them.”

The house evaporated as gently as morning dew under a mid-morning sun; you stood in a schoolyard. Seungcheol, the small one, had a bloody lip and a mean swing.

You felt a rush of affection for him - him, the child, face contorting with misplaced anger, using strength as a bandage. You wanted to stand in front of him, between him and the anger, him and the other kids, and let him take a breath. You wanted to tell him to step with his punch to get more power. You wanted to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him, you’re going to be fine.

And he knew all of it, because he was in your mind.

Seungcheol - your Seungcheol - walked away from the swarm of children egging on the fight and opened a door. You followed.

Inside was not the school, but a hospital room. Your body jolted forward, distracting and alarming. You heard, faintly, a series of beeps, that robotic voice needling in your ears, saying, calibration failure… recalibrating in 3… 2… 1…

“It’s only a memory,” you said again, but the warning beeps were coming stronger, louder, more clearly. The hospital room looked opaque, and Seungcheol walked backwards towards you, away from it, herding you both out of the room. The room - a bed, a pulled curtain, a lot of white - flickered, like a glitch, and then vanished, leaving you standing in the simulator.

Neural handshake disengaged…

“Seungcheol!” you yelled, pulling your helmet off and wheeling on him as best you could with most of your body still strapped in. “What the hell was that? You pushed me out!”

He was breathing hard, eyes a little wild. “Not that,” he said, a little ragged. “I’ll let you in but - not that.”

“You don’t get to choose!” you snapped. Part of you knew this was just growing pains, he’d never drifted before, he was learning. But the rest of you smarted and stung - both from his rejection and from your failure to train, to succeed, to check off this final step before you could get inside your jaeger. “It’s kind of an all-or-nothing thing!”

He let out a billow of air, reaching a hand up to rub at his face. “Sorry. I’ll… let’s try again.”

You didn’t answer, fuming silently instead.

“I’m sorry, Cherry,” he said. “The stuff with my dad…”

“You can’t cherry-pick what we see and what we don’t,” you fired back. His eyes shot to yours and his mouth quirked and you read the joke all over his face. “Don’t you laugh, Seungcheol, it’s not funny!”

But you were laughing through the scolding.

“Stop,” you whined.

Your anger defused, he looked at you again, taking a bracing breath. “It’s not about you,” he tried to explain. “I’m not keeping you out. I’m keeping me out.”

“Don’t chase the rabbit,” you told him, shaking your head. “See what it wants you to see and move on. Find the next door. If you stand there and let your hurt - or your, I don’t know… grief - rise up… that’s when we’re going to have trouble.”

“Find the next door,” he repeated, eyes on the floor. “Got it.”

“You can’t push it away,” you reminded him, “but you don’t have to stay in it, either.”

He nodded, eyes already lighting up, ready to go again.

The second time, you saw him steel himself before opening that same door, watching carefully as he shuffled inside, only looking sideways at the hospital room that materialized around you.

“Seungcheol.”

He turned to look at you, wide-eyed, but you hadn’t called him. The voice, weak and hoarse, had come from the other side of the fluttering curtain.

The glitching started almost immediately - the image around you flickering like a bad wall projection. Something rocked beneath your feet, an earthquake only inside your minds.

You opened your mouth, started to tell him, you don’t have to stay, to remind him that he could move forward. Instead, you heard yourself say, “I’m here.”

The tremors under your feet quivered to a stop. You watched with trepidation and Seungcheol closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Then, he held his hand out, waiting.

You slipped your hand into his, and then he turned and continued walking, ignoring his father’s memory calling out to him. The flickering stopped, the picture you were part of brightening again as you found the next door, stepped through, left his pain behind.

—

It got easier quickly. Seungcheol’s ability to press on, to maintain focus, strengthened.

The strolls through your mind went easier - you’d had years to practice maintaining focus, waiting until after to let the emotions hit you.

Seungcheol learned to be ready for you, after. He’d sit with you, silent, and breathe in tandem as you worked to let go, to release the images of Charron’s Revenge on the tech bay screen, the sounds of your parents’ frantic communication as they fought together, the fear crawling its way up your legs every time until someone in the bay said, “Charron’s Revenge, cleared to return.” The loneliness of being the only kid in the Dome, having no outlet except fighting. Everything that threatened your mind while you piloted, everything that you had to save for later - save for him.

You were both freshly turned twenty when you got green-lit to drive.

“Seungcheol!” you called across the mess hall, practically racing to your table. He turned, eyebrows raised, as you crossed the large room.

“We’re approved to drop!” you told him excitedly. It churned in you - finally, finally you could fight, you could prove what you could do, you could help. “We’re on the drop schedule for tomorrow!”

His grin was unfettered, unfiltered, just for you. He reached up a fist and you bumped it enthusiastically. You were too excited to eat, too excited to sleep. You tossed and turned, imagining experiencing a drop for the first time, imagining striding through the mighty sea like it was nothing, imagining staring down hell itself and bringing it to its knees.

You were still awake when you heard the alarms down the hall. Yours didn’t go off, because you weren’t on duty, weren’t approved to fight.

Down the hall, there was a flurry of commotion - shouting, rushing, people pushing past you as they pulled on boots and jackets.

“Cat-3 in the west bay,” someone shouted.

“Deploying Devil’s Advocate!”

You reached the tech bay, trying to stay out of the way but not unseen. When the Marshall strode by, you stepped sideways.

“Let us drop,” you said quickly, knowing time was precious. “It’ll be like practice. We can be back-up. We’ll hang back.”

“Absolutely not,” the Marshall said, already moving to work past you. “You’re not approved yet. We don’t need a liability right now.”

“We’re scheduled for tomorrow!” you protested, and then you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“We’ll get our turn,” Seungcheol told you quietly. Of course he’d come out, of course he found you.

You deflated. “It could have been us. We are hours from approval.”

He gave your shoulder a tiny shake. “We’ll get our turn,” he repeated. “Don’t make trouble.”

You glowered, but you knew he was right. “Fine,” you grumbled as Joshua and Jeonghan slinked past you in matching jackets and matching shit-eating grins. You stayed out of the way as they prepared to drop.

You stayed through the fight, listened to the control room buzz and chatter, until you heard, “Devil’s Advocate, cleared to return.”

Only then did you try to go back to sleep. Seungcheol gave your shoulder one more squeeze.

“Tomorrow,” he promised.

“Tomorrow,” you repeated.

—

Some people feel God at church. The history of tradition and the sanctity of ritual speak to them, help them feel part of something, help them feel that unnameable swell of something spiritual.

Some people feel God in nature. The patterns of the universe, the way math exists without human touch, the harmonies and patterns that seem too intricate for coincidence help them believe in a planner’s touch. The beauty of the outdoors allows them to wonder, to feel like they belong as a piece of this clockwork.

But you - you felt God when you stood before your jaeger, marveling at the power, the beauty, how it feels like yours, how it feels like Seungcheol before you’re even inside it. Duellona Fury promises you power, promises you purpose.

That hand was on your shoulder again, and it slid down to the center of your back before removing itself.

Beside you, Seungcheol stared up at your glorious machine.

“She looks sick,” he said, the grin taking over his face.

“I can’t wait to fuck shit up,” you murmured, your reverent tone at odds with the flippancy of your words.

“Ready?” the Marshall asked you, coming up to your left. “We’ll get you calibrated and dropped, and then you’ll do a lap of the bay. We’re sending out Pretty Savage just in case you run into trouble.”

The defensiveness rose in you quick, like a snakebite.

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Seungcheol said, voice hard. You reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze - a reminder to watch it, just as his hand on your shoulder frequently did for you.

“It’s just safety protocol.” The Marshall was unphased by the outburst. “Have fun, you two. Enjoy your first joy-ride.”

You screamed when you dropped, the exhilaration rushing out of you as Duellona Fury fell story after story before slowing and attaching to your jaeger’s mainframe.

Goosebumps raised along your arms when the Shatterdome’s sea-doors slid open, shudders traveling your body as you and Seungcheol stepped together, Duellona Fury stepping with you, her gigantic, metal form following every movement.

For the first time in your whole, careful life, you felt powerful. Your jaeger cut through the ocean waves like they were nothing, making an easy perimeter of the bay. In your head, you could somehow both hear and feel Seungcheol’s delight, his low-simmering desire to fight, to do something a perfect mirror of your own.

“How is it?” Soonyoung’s voice crackled in your ears, reminding you that Pretty Savage wasn’t far behind you.

“Incredible,” Seungcheol answered him, at the same time that you said, “It’s everything.”

It didn’t matter that you came from a family of pilots. It didn’t matter that you were raised in the Dome, training since you were young. None of that mattered. You were born for this - born to fight for your planet, born for Duellona Fury, born for Choi Seungcheol.

—

The west bay became Duellona’s playground; you and Seungcheol were often assigned to patrol there.

It was only a few months in that you faced a kaiju for the first time.

“Come in, Duellona Fury,” Nainsi’s voice came through. “We have a reading just a few miles north of you. Cat-2. Approaching at -”

Duellona Fury was turning due north before the command was even given.

“Are you ready for this?” you shouted to Seungcheol as Duellona slid through the water, the adrenaline singing in your system already.

“You know I am,” he answered, something hard in it, and the thrill in your stomach sparked.

When the sea split in half, the kaiju rising from the depths with an unearthly roar, you sank into a defensive stance, feeling Seungcheol move beside you, doing the same.

“Let’s fucking go,” Seungcheol said darkly, and launched forward, your arms rearing back for momentum before the first swing. The punch landed solidly, your whole body shaking once as the kaiju faltered backwards a few steps.

It opened its mouth and you glimpsed three rows of teeth bigger than a cow before it was lunging at you; Duellona Fury lurched. You tried to duck sideways as Seungcheol tried to move towards your opponent.

The moment of indecision cost you - the kaiju got its teeth on Duellona’s shoulder, knocking you back several steps. Beside you, Seungcheol roared as sparks flew near the bite.

“Are we breached?” you yelled, trying to steady your balance again.

“Not yet!” he yelled back, and you swung again, a hit landing hard enough to knock the kaiju loose, spitting it back into the sea.

You tried to move into a defensive crouch again; again, the jaeger faltered.

“Cherry!” Seungcheol yelled, desperation laced in his voice. “Cherry, don’t fight me!”

“Move with me!” you answered, and he did, miraculously, Duellona dodging left before an incoming attack.

Don’t fight me.

You rocked forward with Seungcheol as soon as you were clear of the kaiju’s trajectory, just as you’d done in practice thousands of times. Back in sync, Duellona Fury landed a kick to the kaiju’s middle that sent it stumbling.

“We’ve got him,” you said, feeling a win.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Seungcheol warned you. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the kaiju exploded from the dark ocean, limbs flailing as it flew towards you.

Duellona’s arms came up and locked it in battle, the impact shaking you so hard that your teeth chattered against each other. You groaned with exertion as you tried to match its strength.

“I don’t think we can hold it,” you managed through grit teeth.

“We’ve got this,” your partner promised, and with a mighty shove, you managed to flip the beast over your shoulder and beneath the waves.

“Drop the bombs and head for the east side,” you said quickly, already moving. Duellona Fury followed your command, turning and starting an easy run through the bay’s churning waters, away from where the kaiju was struggling to its feet, furious and vengeful. As she ran, she dropped three small explosives, about sixty feet apart. The explosives slipped into the ocean depths.

“Ready?” Seungcheol asked, a little breathless. “Are we far enough away?”

“Light him up,” you replied. Seungcheol reached up and tapped the button; somewhere behind you, the ocean exploded.

—

“How’s your shoulder?” you asked, later, in the med bay.

“Not that bad,” Seungcheol said, but you could see the blood-stains on the bandaging.

“It won’t happen again,” you promised. “I think I just… practiced alone for so long. I forgot to listen. I’m sorry.”

Seungcheol shook his hand, eyes finding yours. “There’s nothing to forgive, Cherry. Forget about it.” Then, he brightened. “You know what I want to do?”

“What?” you asked, not entirely past feeling guilty.

His smile was devilish. “I want to go celebrate our first fucking kill.”

– 

You marked the passing of two years in statistics.

Three hundred and forty-six explosives detonated.

Two hundred and eighty-three drops. Two hundred and eight-three kills. 

Seventy-two mainframe repairs.

Twenty-eight achievement awards.

Nine television interviews.

Six upgrades.

One ill-informed “vacation” during which you both itched with anxiety, spending the whole time messaging your friends back in the Shatterdome desperately, praying you wouldn’t miss a fight in which you were needed.

Seven hundred and thirty days of living in and around Seungcheol’s mind and heart. But that stat should’ve gone first.

It was a good high. Your team had a good run.

It wasn’t a kaiju that reduced it to ash, not an attack that took your team out of the rotation of main fighters and sent your jaeger to gather rust and dust below the Dome. It was your own stupid heart.

There were a lot of moments that could have been it. Each time you walked into a fight knowing the danger, each time he ended up in the med bay reeking of antibacterial ointment and resentment. Each time you slid into your place beside him - space he saved only for you. Each time his voice bidding you goodnight from the bottom bunk was the last thing you heard at the end of the day. Any of these moments might have been the one to make you stop, gasp, suddenly slammed with understanding. That you loved him, that he was everything you couldn’t bear to be without, that he was part of you. But they weren’t.

There was no moment of realization at all.

Instead, it slowly seeped into your consciousness, as gently and naturally as morning dew collecting on pre-dawn petals. The knowledge clung to you, as impossible to ignore as damp feet after running barefoot through the yard just after sunrise.

If you knew something, that meant your co-pilot would know it, too.

Unless you tucked it away, pushed it down deep and cast his attention elsewhere, a mental sleight-of-hand. Look here instead. 

You were twenty-three, on a routine patrol, when Mission Control radioed Duellona that there was a reading in the bay.

“Looks like it’s only a Cat-1,” Mission Control told you.

“On it,” you told them, feeling your body already mirroring Seungcheol’s as Duellona picked up her pace, striding through the waves. 

You glanced sideways at him, and immediately wished you hadn’t. He was already zoned in, eyes focused and jaw sharp as he concentrated. 

He caught your gaze for only a second. “Focus, Cherry,” he cautioned. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I would never,” you retorted, and he laughed. You were both cocky; you both knew it.

For a second, things felt better. 

The fight was almost easy, when the ocean seemed to split in two and the waves fell away like wrapping paper to reveal the kaiju you’d been sent for. 

You swung and ducked, dropping explosives strategically, Seungcheol moving in unison with you. There was something graceful about it - something beautiful in the sync, something holy in the way your muscles mimicked each other’s. 

This is what happens when sunlight hits morning dew: it warms, lifts, makes the air humid and sticky until it burns away. 

It rose up in you, your love for him, infusing the air around you, infusing the neural handshake that he was deeply imbedded in.

No. 

You panicked, tried to do several things at once - tried to shove the feeling down, tried to think of something else, tried to push Seungcheol’s consciousness out of yours.

Duellona Fury lurched around you, shuddering. 

“Cherry!” Seungcheol screamed to your left, and then the kaiju hit, its full weight slamming into Duellona’s mainframe.

You both staggered, trying to right yourselves, as the machines around you blinked and beeped and rebooted. 

Seungcheol grunted under the neural weight of driving alone as you gasped and closed your eyes, trying desperately to fix it. Around you, you heard the floating words - recalibrating.

“Recalibrate faster!” you shouted, glancing sideways to see your co-pilot struggling to hold the monster in place, his face contorting with effort, arms straining against the machinery. He bared his gritted teeth, exhaling in a hiss between them. 

You gave yourself a shake, bouncing on the balls of your feet, desperate for the connection to take again so you could pick up your half, take the literal weight from him. As soon as you felt the neural handshake, you gave a mighty shove and Duellona flipped the monster backwards, the ocean receding and then coming back to slam her shins, swallowing the monster whole.

You both sank into a defensive stance, ready for the beast to rise again.

“What was that?” Seungcheol demanded, later, as he sat in the med bay, waiting for his nosebleed to stop. The nosebleed you’d caused by letting him carry a neural load meant for two.

“I don’t know,” you lied, still panicked and desperate. 

“Bullshit,” Seungcheol countered, eyes narrowed. He reached up and pulled the cotton away from his face, examining it. “I’m fine now,” he announced, and tossed the wad into a nearby trash bin, standing.

You fought the urge to cower, knowing he’d never let it go if you did. You followed him silently out of the med bay and back towards your dormitories. Halfway there, he slowed, then stopped.

Then, more calmly this time, he asked, “What happened, Cherry? You pushed me out.”

There was a slight pout to it, a sliver of hurt, and it sliced through you like something tangible, like you were actually wounded from it, like it might actually bleed.

“I don’t know,” you repeated. Guilt poked at you until you relented, gave him something that was at least partly true.  “I got scared.” 

“That can’t happen, and you know it,” he said seriously, his large frame casting a long shadow to your left as he leaned into your space. “You can’t keep secrets - that’s piloting 101. We’ve got to handle it. You know what’s at stake here.”

You did; you did, and that was entirely the problem. It wasn’t just feelings, it wasn’t just your relationship with Seungcheol at stake. It was your relationship with your co-pilot - your ability to fight was at stake, your ability to keep others safe. Your legacy.

Your parents’ wall of pictures flashed in your mind.

“I’m going to my mom and dad’s for a while,” you said quietly. 

He nodded, let you run away - trusted you to come back to him when you were ready, trusted you to let him in.

You weren’t sure if he was right or wrong, as you walked away and left him behind.

You didn’t go to your parents’, though. Instead, you went to the tech bay and sat, watching Duellona undergo simple repairs from her fight. You stayed there, the metal cold beneath your thighs, watching the tech team buff over a scratch on your jaeger’s torso, until someone dropped into the spot next to you, bumping their shoulder roughly into yours.

“Where’s Seungcheol?” Wylie, who co-piloted Fury Striker with Chan, was your closest friend in the Dome besides Seungcheol. 

“He’s pissed at me,” you answered, looking sideways, because the question had really meant, why isn’t Seungcheol with you? 

You weren’t sure she’d understand what you were going through - she and Chan had been obsessed with each other since they were kids. Neither of them had ever had to fear that their love for each other would mess anything up. It had been part of their deal from the start.

“What’d you do?” Wylie demanded, turning her full, unfettered attention on you. You wanted to shrink from the intensity of it - but that was always how Wylie worked: full wattage, all the time.

“Almost got us killed by a fucking Cat-1 tonight,” you muttered, angry at yourself, angry at your heart.

Wylie smacked your arm hard enough to send you sideways. “Cherry!” she scolded. 

“There was something I didn’t want him to see.” You said it in your head first, weighed the words, then forced them through your teeth. You hoped she’d just know what it was, hoped you wouldn’t have to force those words past muscle and bone, too.

Wylie’s face dropped into irritation. “Cherry,” she repeated, disappointment dripping from the two syllables.

You looked up at Duellona Fury again. 

“You can’t do that,” she told you, giving your ankle a little kick for emphasis. “You know you can’t do that.”

You can’t love him? Or, you can’t keep secrets from him?

You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to know the answer.

Seungcheol was waiting up for you when you finally returned to the dorm. You opened the door to find the first room - an entryway and kitchen, both - dimly lit. Beyond it, in the small sitting space, Seungcheol sat facing the door, his chin in his hand.

You knew the look on his face. You knew it so well that you almost ran from it, almost turned right around and went back out to the hallway.

Brows slightly furrowed, mouth a straight line, jaw tight. Eyes focused, locked in. It was the face he made in training before he bodied someone. It was the face he made in the field before an offensive strike. It meant he had his sights on a target, a problem, and he was about to throw everything he had at it.

And right now, you were the problem.

“Hey?” you tried meekly.

He nodded. Licked his lips. Stood. 

He’s pissed at me, you’d told Wylie. The energy radiating from your co-pilot was much more complex than that, the air around you palpably tense and teetering.

“How was it at your parents’?” he asked, voice low. 

You took one tentative step closer. “I didn’t go,” you admitted. One lie between you was already more than you wanted. “I watched them patch up Duellona instead. Talked to Wylie a little.”

He nodded, eyes still on you. Nervousness coursed through you, but it would be a lie - another one - to say it wasn’t laced with a little excitement. He was stunning, always, but like this - it almost took your breath away.

If he was in your mind right now, there’d be no question. He’d know all of it. The attraction, the desire, the fear, the affection, the love, the need. All of it. 

His eyes caught on a bruise peeking out from the short sleeve of your top. “You should’ve had them look at that,” he said, reaching out like he wanted to run his fingers over the dark splotch, but he was just too far away, fingertips closing around the air just an inch or two away. 

You shook your head. “You needed attention first. You carried the neural load alone.” Because of me.

“Only for a minute.”

“A minute too long. I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

It hung between you. You don’t know if you’d inched forward or he had, or both, but you were close enough to touch now when you hadn’t been just seconds ago.

He lifted his eyes, his gaze locking on yours. In the dim room, his eyes shone black. “You pushed me out.”

It was an accusation, but it was also a question.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, barely able to say it, your voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Seungcheol, I was scared.”

Maybe he was in your head. Maybe he did know all of it.

“Don’t be,” he told you. “Don’t be scared.”

His arms were around you though you didn’t see him move. It wasn’t the first time you’d let him embrace you - after a fight, in relief, or in victorious delight, or sometimes just in sleepy affection at the end of a long day. It was far from the first time that you’d found comfort in the space between his arms, strong and capable around your frame, your forehead pressed against his sternum as his heart beat directly into your bones. 

But it was the first time that his fingers, confident and sure, tipped under your chin, guiding you to look up at him, guiding your mouth to meet his.

You don’t know if you melted or exploded - it was somehow both at once. You gripped his back, feeling the muscles move beneath his t-shirt, relaxing into his hold and focusing on the feel of his full lips firm and hungry against your own. This was everything - everything you’d wanted, everything you were afraid of, everything you needed, everything that could rip your life apart.

You didn’t mean to whine, but it slipped up your throat and into the gasped space between your lips and his as you tried to pull in a desperate breath. He responded with a grunt, walking you backwards until the edge of the kitchen counter jutted into your lower back. His hands traveled, up to the back of your neck, back down to the slight curve of your waist, around to the back of your ass. He tugged your hips against his roughly, and you let your head fall back, panting, head spinning.

“Cherry,” he breathed against the newly bared stretch of your neck, his lips close enough to drag against your skin as he spoke.

Your hands found the back of his neck, gave the slightest tug upwards, and he followed, bringing his mouth back to yours. His tongue pressed yours briefly, your moan muffled entirely by his mouth as you tried to press him closer, closer, as if you wanted your rib-cages to meld, to slip together like fitting puzzle pieces. 

His hand slipped lower from your ass and wrapped around your thighs, taking only a second to lift you onto the counter behind you. You wrapped yourself around him immediately, pulling him into the space between your legs, arms around his neck, pulling him in, wanting to feel every bit of him against you. 

His hands found the hem of your shirt and lifted; you raised your arms in compliance and felt the cotton slip over your head and your hands.

“Yours,” you murmured, but he had already reached back between his shoulder blades, his own top joining yours on the floor.

Your hands found him on their own, sliding over his skin, fingers dipping between muscles, thumbs sweeping over shadows.

You kissed until you turned liquid, molten, your fingers wrapped in his hair. His fingers mapped every inch of your skin, as if his job was to report back on every previously unknown dip, every rough circle, every beauty mark or blemish. His fingers traced them all, his hands passing over you reverently.

The brush of his bare chest against your own was torturous; delicious until you were full, until you couldn’t take it anymore, until the electric-sharp thrill became uncomfortable. You tilted backwards, creating more space between your torsos but pushing your hips firmly into his.

You both groaned at the contact. You could feel the heat and weight of him now, and everything instinctual within you urged you to shift further, to bring that heat and heaviness closer to the part of you that ached for it. 

He pressed his hips into you without reservation, your core clenching in response to the movement and the friction. 

Then he leaned back, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, his arms bracketing you on either side, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. He drank you in, his eyes as molten as you felt. You leaned back on your elbows and met his gaze.

The moment expanded; nothing existed but his eyes and the pant of his breath and the way he smelled like he’d just finished a fight and the way he felt between your thighs, unmovable and steady.

Neither of you was connected to jaeger machinery, but you may as well have been, because you knew without a shadow of a doubt that your minds were connected, the drift be damned. Your eyes locked, you knew he felt everything you felt - the gravity of what you were doing, the love that drove you, the fire coursing through you. If there was going to be hesitation or questioning, this was the moment, this was the pause. But you were one, your minds were one, and there was none of that. 

His unvoiced question definitively answered by the certainty that flowed between you, Seungcheol moved to lift you again, taking you easily from the countertop into the dark of the room you share, settling you on your back on his bottom bunk.

Above you, mostly shadowed, was your other half, the only person who knew and understood every cobwebbed corner of your consciousness, the only person who had walked through your mind and found himself mirrored in every way that mattered. He was beautiful in the fractured light, his expression serious and gaze intense. 

You reached up to slide your thumb along his jaw and his eyes fluttered closed, his breath leaving him as in relief, as if you’d made some kind of admission. 

Making love to Seungcheol felt like drifting. His eyes on you as his fingers pulled you apart felt the same as the careful way he’d watch you when your memories got emotional, like he was watching for any sign that you weren’t okay, that you needed more or less or him. 

The way his breath and shoulders shuddered when he pressed into you for the first time felt the same as when he faltered in face of his father’s memory; both times, his fingers laced through yours and held tight until you could both breathe again.

He felt how you’d always known he would. Perfect - a perfect fit for you, a physical compatibility you had never tested but had always trusted would be there. He took you apart without even trying, and all you could do was hold onto him, feel all of him, feel all of it, and try to remember to breathe.

You didn’t speak as you moved together in the dark; the only sounds in the tight room were muted gasps, tiny moans muffled against necks, skin on skin, the obscene squelching sounds that accompanied each snap of his hips. You didn’t say the words that your lips tried to form - it’s so much, go slow for a little, Seungcheol, I love you, more - please, don’t stop. Maybe he heard them. Maybe this was a different way to drift, one that didn’t need wires.

You did your best to hold his gaze, losing sight of him only when you strained up to kiss him, when you nuzzled your face into the warmth between his neck and shoulder and gasped against a wave of sensation, when you couldn’t help but close them as they rolled back, your toes curling. 

He pressed his forehead to yours when he finished, your name slipping out of him, as if it had been literally squeezed from his lungs. “Cherry… Cherry…”

You lay together in silence for a long time, feeling your hearts slow, your skin cool. Your thumb traced his jaw again and again, slow, worshipful. “Cheol,” you whispered. My Cheol. My everything. You didn’t say the rest as you lay together in the quiet, in the dark, your heartbeats competing. 

You didn’t know that you’d drifted together for the last time. You didn’t know that your ability to neural connect could be broken.

–

The wind whips around you, stinging your face. You barely flinch. When you’d first relocated here, three years ago, the cold had made you literally cry during your first month. Just from having to walk from the door of the dormitory across the yard to the mess hall dorm, the intensity of it had sent you spiraling into misery - damning the circumstances that had sent you here, away from everyone and everything you knew and loved, to a place where the air hurt. 

You were sure it would hurt, this intensely, forever.

But time eased the sting, and despite your doubts you did adjust. Now the early morning wind feels bracing and refreshing rather than painful. You’ve adjusted to a lot of things since relocating to a small training center in Alakanuk, Alaska: the climate, the food, the no-frills campus you lived and worked on. Being away from your parents, from Wylie and Chan and Seungkwan and Jeonghan and all the other pilots you were friends with at the Shatterdome.

Being away from Seungcheol. Being partnerless, a half instead of a whole. 

Being unable to pilot, unable to fight. 

Being brokenhearted.

Just like the cold, the pain of your losses was the same - the sting of heartbreak and loneliness and homesickness faded to something ignorable, something you could keep tucked tight in the back of your mind. 

You can hear the noise from inside the mess hall before you even cross the courtyard. There are short of fifty girls ranging from ages seven to eighteen being housed here, but from the noise you’d swear it was at least a hundred. 

The buildings are single-storied, painted with a heavily-chipping grey-blue that sometimes seems to belong to the mist you often get rolling in from the ocean. When you’d first come, you’d legitimately thought they were painted that way as camouflage, meant to blend in with the sea. The other trainers had a good laugh about that. 

As you cross the courtyard between the trainers’ dorms and the mess hall, you breathe deeply, eyes on the birds alight above you. After a lifetime in the Shatterdome, you don’t take for granted the fresh air you’re afforded as you pass between buildings, outside, the sky open and changing above. You don’t take for granted the rhythm of the ocean, the cries of the gulls, nor the distant treeline.

It was Seungcheol who had noted that you were sheltered, having never lived outside of the Dome. 

It was Seungcheol you could blame - at least halfway - for your relocation here, where there wasn’t a jaeger or even a city for hundreds of miles. 

When you pull open the flimsy door to the mess hall, the noise triples. Several of the girls call out to greet you, and you give them a quick wave as you head to the table where the staff eats.

“You’re later than normal,” one of the other instructors notes as you reach for a piece of bread.

You shrug lightly, unbothered. “Still have plenty of time before the first class. What day is today, Thursday? I’ve got the little ones first, right?”

The all-girls training center is meant to teach fighting and the groundworks for drifting, but no jaegers are housed here, no teams launch into the icy bay. The girls here will grow up to pilot - if they get selected, if they get paired with a partner. 

You’re mostly here to teach them to fight, the way you trained in the Dome, but you do plenty more. Help brush hair in the mornings, console tearful faces, teach games and sports, mediate arguments. You also got sucked into running one literacy class a week, though you still haven’t figured out how that happened. 

It would be a lie to say this wasn’t fulfilling, that you didn’t love the girls you cared for, that you weren’t happy here with the ocean and birds and trees and laughter. In many ways, the seclusion of this training center is exactly what you needed to get back on your feet, to find strength in yourself, to heal with distance and time.

But, god, what you would give for a real fight. What you would give to feel both loved and threatened by Wylie, to rib at the guys, to hug your mom. What you would give to hear Seungcheol’s teasing pout, to catch his gaze across the span of your jaeger and know what his body and yours will do, to feel his fingers just barely graze your back when he knows you need to be reminded to focus.

The final time you’d tried, the neural connection never took. It was like trying to connect with a stranger. It had simply been still, a thing that was never alive.

“Don’t do this,” Seungcheol had begged, and that had been the nail in the coffin.

Don’t do this, he’d said. It had landed like blame. Like everything was your fault, and only yours. Like you had broken the connection on purpose, were keeping him out, barricading your mind from his when you desperately wanted everything to go right back to normal.

After that failure, you didn’t tell him you were asking to be reassigned. You didn’t want to give him the chance to say don’t do this a second time.

You’ve just ended a class, the girls starting to filter out through the training room’s side door towards the mess hall for lunch, when the center’s Administrator calls your name from the door.

“There’s a call for you on my line. I have them holding.”

A call? 

Adrenaline races through you; it has to be an emergency. Your parents and friends can reach you on your own device, which is tucked into your back pocket. To call the mainline here at the center means this is a base-to-base call, not a personal one.

You’ve only been in this office a handful of times in your few years here, and you shuffle awkwardly around the desk and pick up the receiver that sits abandoned on the chipped, wooden desktop. 

You greet the person on the line with your real name. 

“Cherry?”

Your Marshall - your old Marshall, from the Dome - sounds unsure if he has the right person on the line. No one has called you Cherry in three years. Even your parents have used your given name the few times they’ve said it on your weekly calls home.

“It’s me,” you affirm. “Is everything okay? My parents?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, and you heave a relieved breath. “Everyone is fine. This is official business. I want to call you in.”

You shake your head, frowning, well aware that he can’t see your reaction. Your body has said no, but you force yourself to ask, “Me? Why?”

“We’re down a few teams,” the Marshall says. “And -”

“You’ve got more recruits than places to put them,” you counter before he can finish. “Call one of the new teams up. Call three new teams up. You don’t need me.”

“We do - we need teams with experience, teams that are ready. Not rookies bumbling around looking for mistakes. We need precision. We need Duellona Fury.”

Your Marshall lays out the situation: the teams that are out, the problems they’re having at the breach - less time between attacks, more monsters at once. You’ve seen this before, you all have, and there’s protocol in place - protocol that starts with all hands on deck. 

You shake your head again. From the door, the Administrator of the center watches you seriously, like she knows you’re being taken away. 

“Marshall, with all due respect, I don’t know why you’re calling me,” you admit. “What can I give you? I can’t pilot Duellona.”

Not anymore. 

The Marshall sighs, like he knew this argument was coming and didn’t have a good response. 

“I think you can,” he says finally. “I’m not saying it will be easy, and I’m not saying it will happen quickly or without effort. But I think you can.”

“No,” you say, the first time you’ve voiced it. “You were there. You saw what happened. We can’t drift anymore.”

“You couldn’t then,” he points out. “That was three years ago. You’ve both had a lot of time to…. You’ve both had a lot of time since then. Things that were once too painful to carry into the drift… they’ve had time to mellow.”

This blow knocks you into silence. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes steadfastly on the warped wood of the desk, fingers toying absently with the Administrator’s pen. 

He’s wrong, and you want to tell him so. Nothing had mellowed. You love Seungcheol just as much today as you did three years ago. The splitting ache in your chest that you’ve felt every day since you became aware of loving him has only worked its way deeper with time. 

And Seungcheol’s anger? The anger and betrayal he’d leveled at you, when he was sure you were keeping him out of your head on purpose? You couldn’t speak for him, but if you had to guess, there weren’t enough years in a human life to let that hurt mellow into something safe enough to drift with.

“Have you talked to him about this?” You’re afraid of the answer. 

The Marshall hesitates. “Not yet.”

“You might want to do that first,” you point out. “Before flying me back only to have him refuse.” 

The Marshall’s voice hardens, and you can just picture his eyes narrowing. “Mr. Choi will follow orders,” he says evenly, “and so will you. Asking is really just a courtesy.”

“You can’t order us into being able to drift again,” you snap, pulse suddenly pounding in your arms, your hands, your face, your chest. 

“No,” the Marshall says, and any previous friendliness is gone from his voice now, “but I can - and will - order you to try.”

The girls cry when you tell them you’re leaving, and it makes you want to cry, too. You hold it together as you give them hugs, hold it together as you pack your single bag of belongings. You hold it together in the passenger seat of the center’s only beat-up van, waving out the back window as the training center fades away.

It’s standing on the deck of the ferry, the coast receding and the sea wind clawing at your face, that you let it go. You bury your face behind your hands and feel it release behind your ribs. You cry for all of it - for leaving the girls behind, for leaving a place that had sheltered you like a sanctuary. For the time you’d lost at the Dome, for the fights you’d sat out, for the years with your parents and friends that had slipped away like sand between your fingers. For your fear that Seungcheol will turn you away, just as hurt and angry as he was one thousand and ninety-five days ago. 

You’d been so determined to keep him from walking through the depths of your love for him, in the drift. You were so scared it would be too much, too intense, too much emotion for the drift. You’d been scared it would be too much for him - that the weight of it would inherently ask for more than he could give you in return. You’d been scared it would ruin your partnership, your compatibility, your capability to co-pilot.

But that had happened anyway. You almost have to laugh. 

As furiously as your tears begin, they peter out quickly. You take a few deep gulps of salty air, use the backs of your hands to wipe at your cheeks and beneath your nose. As you calm down, you keep your eyes on the horizon, your hands tight on the ship’s railing, and you let your mind wander back to Seungcheol. Here, thousands of miles away, you let yourself think back to those last weeks before you left the Shatterdome. You let yourself wonder, for the first time, what exactly caused everything to crumble.

You’d been so afraid to let Seungcheol into your head once the loving him had taken over. Why had it scared you so badly? As you keep your eyes on the grey of the horizon, you puzzle it out in your mind.

Had it been the uncertainty? That had certainly played a part. Did Seungcheol love you, back then? If he didn’t, everything between you could have changed - your friendship, your partnership, your ability to drift. It hadn’t seemed worth the risk to lose it all - his presence in your life, your ability to fight together. 

But maybe he had. If he did love you, back then… that would have changed things, too. What if starting something romantic affected your drift? There were too many maybes, too many variables. It had seemed safe to push it all down, to try and keep him away from it. To try and keep things the same.

Of course, you’d lost it all anyway.

Even if he did love you three years ago, you think as the sea air whips around you, did he love you the way you loved him? What if it had been too much - the way you could breathe once he was with you, the way you kept each other in check - what if he had loved you, but not that much?

Had it been a mistake to keep him out? Maybe. But it could have been just as catastrophic to let him in. There was no way to know, now.

You turn away from the ship’s railing, away from the horizon and the sea, away from your mistakes. There’s no use looking back like this. You can’t change it. You aren’t even sure you can fix it.

You were hoping to sleep on the plane, but you’re woefully awake well after take-off. Determined not to keep ruminating on what had happened before you left, instead you wonder what awaits you now.

The most-likely scenario, you think, professional and polite - but cold. Like you, he takes duty and responsibility seriously. The airplane bumps, a pocket of air jostling the small craft, and your hands find the armrests and cling tight until it stops.

The best case scenario, of course, would be that enough time has passed that Seungcheol’s hurt has faded. Maybe, you think, maybe he’s moved on from harboring that anger. Maybe he’ll greet you warmly, maybe you’ll pick up right where you left off.

This hope, this day-dream, aches, so much that you blink it away and turn to watch the clouds through the window, a desperate distraction. You crave Seungcheol - you crave feeling safe with his arms around you, you crave the elation you’d feel when he entered the room you were in, you crave the peace that comes with two minds engaged in neural handshake - the peace of someone’s mind interlaced with your own, understanding you, operating with you, picking up half of your mental lift.

You crave his giggle when you say something stupid in the dark of the dorm before bed, his pout when he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention, you crave his voice echoing in your head long after he’s gone asleep because you heard him talk to you all day long. 

You crave his lips on yours, his teeth on your neck, his hands on your body, even if you only had it once. You’ve craved it ever since.

You crave closing your eyes and pressing your forehead to his sternum, feeling safe and quiet and like you belong. You miss the sanctuary of that space, chest to chest with him, something sacred in the way it exists only for you.

You know you can’t have it - any of it. The daydream isn’t real. Your curse will be to crave it forever, alone.

When you arrive at the Shatterdome, it’s your parents who greet you just inside. For a moment, you’re happy to be back, overcome with emotion as you hug them tight. They’ve aged in these three years. You’ve missed them awfully. You only tell them the latter. 

They walk with you to the Marshall’s office, where you’re meant to report upon arrival. 

You hesitate, covering the moment by tugging your duffle’s strap higher on your shoulder. Your mother reads you anyway, reaching out and giving your shoulder a squeeze. 

“It will be okay,” she whispers. 

Your father catches on. “You’ve faced down worse,” he reasons. 

You disagree. There’s no monster in the sea bigger than your love for Seungcheol, no wounding possible that could hurt more than losing him has. But you appreciate the sentiment, so you give them each a grateful nod, tell them you’ll visit after dinner, and turn to knock on the door.

“Come in,” the Marshall’s voice carries through the door, and you turn the knob and step inside. 

All you see is Seungcheol; the Marshall, the office furniture, the flickering screens on the walls all snap into nonexistence in the presence of your former lover. He’s the only thing in the room that comes into focus. Everything else is just fuzzy noise.

His face wavers for a moment when your eyes meet his, the muscles rippling as he fights to get them under control. 

You don’t know what reaction he’s fighting. You don’t know if he’s feeling happiness or hatred. You don’t know if he’s fighting a smile or a scowl.

You give him a quick bow in greeting, and he returns it. His face is stone, now, his mouth tight and eyes flat. 

He turns to face the Marshall, to receive orders, so you do the same.

“I trust your travel went well?” the Marshall begins.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Even the single syllable of yes will come out of your mouth like gravel and dirt and sand, getting everywhere, leaving a trail.

“Your orders,” he says then, a bit of a sigh on his tone - as if he knows the uphill battle this will be, “are to reconnect as best you can. You’ll follow your old schedule. You’ll spar, you’ll meditate, and you’ll talk. After some time, we’ll try the drift again, see if the connection has recovered any.”

Seungcheol’s voice startles you when he speaks. “How long do you imagine it will be before we try?” he asks, just cold enough to have a sliver of sarcasm in it. 

The Marshall’s eyes narrow, just slightly, as if he’d caught it. “That’s entirely up to you two,” he says evenly. “When you were young and hungry to fight, you trained yourselves into exhaustion. You spent every waking second trying to cultivate the bond that would carry you into your jaeger. With the same intention and drive, I imagine you could be piloting Duellona within the week.”

You fight to keep your chin up, your eyes on the Marshall, instead of ducking your head and watching the floor. The Marshall lifts his arm and glances at his watch. 

“Your allotted time in Sparring Room 7 begins on the hour,” he says. This is his way of dismissing you.

In the hallway, you pause. “I’m just going to drop my bag in the dorm,” you say quietly, not looking at Seungcheol. 

He gives a tight nod. “Fine,” he says, and turns to go the other way, towards the sparring and training rooms. Clearly he intends to meet you there. You heave a deep breath, and turn back towards the wing with the dorms.

Stepping into the dorm you used to share with Seungcheol hits you harder than you thought it would. You’re not sure what you expected - to feel like coming home, maybe, or perhaps to be slapped with the memories of you and Seungcheol together, dancing around each other as you hurried to get dressed for a drop, lazing around in the sitting area after a full day of training. And, of course, the single night you’d spent together.

Neither thing happens. You aren’t overcome by a feeling of nostalgia and love, nor are you inundated by memories of what you’ve lost. Instead, the room feels exactly as it is: empty and still.

Your footsteps’ echoes taunt you as you walk through the kitchen, the sitting area, and into the bedroom. It’s pristine to the point of detriment; it feels like no one lives there. You set your bag on the floor near the foot of the bed - you can unpack later, after training - and turn to go.

Strangely, it’s stepping into the training room that slams you with memory and nostalgia. The wood cool beneath your feet, the vague smell of sweat and citrus-y cleaner, the sounds of punches landing and grunts of effort from the training rooms on either side - they all cocoon you in history, making goosebumps rise on your arms as the emotions surround you.

It makes sense, you think, as Seungcheol glances over his shoulder at the sound of your arrival. He doesn’t speak to you, just swaggers to the center of the room and takes a stance you recognize from Form One. Your body leads you opposite him, muscle memory guiding you into the first form you ever learned with him. It makes sense that this would be what felt like home - your minds going empty together, your bodies following the steps in unison. The sparring forms are the closest you can get to drifting without an actual neural connection.

Well, that and sleeping together, but you don’t see that on your agenda.

You stare at him across the invisible circle between you and try to read him. His face is cold and empty, but that already tells you so much about what he’s feeling. Seungcheol was never cold with you. When you fought together he slipped into that mode you loved so much - ready to level anything, chin lifted, eyes narrowed, confident and so very strong. But it was when you were together outside the fights that you had loved him best - often pouting, lips protruding, voice lifting into a whine. And the best of all - that smile, dimples creating shadows that beg for your thumb to press them, eyes squeezing shut with happiness or laughter.

Something must show on your face, because you watch the muscles in Seungcheol’s upper body untense, as if he’d been ready to fight and recognized that you weren’t.

“I’m good,” you mutter quickly, before he can ask. It feels better to lie to him before he actually asks you, like that’s somehow less dishonest. “Let’s go.”

Form One is basic - no hits, no fancy moves. At the training center, you’d teach it to the littlest ones until they had it memorized. It was really about control and communication - precision and alignment with your partner. You had to breathe together as your feet traced opposite circles across the knots in the wooden floor. You had to rise and bend in unison. It was about watching and listening.

You and Seungcheol could - literally, you’d tried more than once - do it blindfolded in perfect step with one another. Before. You don’t know if you still can. But, now, unblindfolded, it’s too easy.

You move through forms one through six without incident - both of you flowing as easily as water.

Form Seven is the first form that incorporates actual hits and blocks. You’ll have to touch for the first time, even if it’s forearm to forearm or ankle to shoulder. You move right as he moves left, crouch and circle as his right foot flies over your head, stand and punch where you know his open hand will be waiting to stop you.

It is, and you press your fist against it for just a second before spinning away to continue the form. You ache, even as your body continues following the steps, to have him entirely again - to meet his eyes and smile the way you both used to, because you were pleased with what your bodies could do. Because you had each other, completely.

After the tenth form, you bow, turn, and walk out of the ring. You drink some water, your back to him. Years ago you’d have used this break to chat, but you don’t know what to say to him. You’re scared that he’ll shut down anything you say, whether you choose small talk or go straight for the heart of the problem, and you honestly don’t think you can shoulder his rejection right now. So you stay quiet.

After a few short minutes of rest, you return to the center of the room. This is when you’ll spar for real.

You and Seungcheol had done this for years before things went wrong. You’d long ago adjusted to how hard you should hit, how to dodge his moves, how to make this a dance as much as a fight. Now, you feel like it’s your first time again.

Seungcheol attacks as you’d expect - all offensive, pushy, succeeding in herding you backwards even as you dodge each blow. You know his goal is to flip you, and normally you can avoid that by forcing him to go on the defensive as he avoids your own hits. Simply dodging won’t be enough - eventually he’ll cage you in unless you distract him.

You throw yourself into a summersault and manage to get behind him - an opportune moment to strike. You shift your weight to follow the blow as you twist your hips to send a kick towards his unprotected head. He turns just too late - the blow will land.

You can’t do it. You freeze, your core working to keep you upright as you fight your own momentum, halting the kick inches from his temple.

You know immediately that pulling the hit was a mistake. His eyes narrow, and he sweeps his foot at the ankle you’re balancing on. You crash to the ground, heaving a breath and taking quick inventory.

You aren’t hurt. Not this time.

“Get up, Cherry,” he says darkly, moving back to the center to start again. “And don’t do that shit again.”

He comes at you full force in the next match, too. You dodge and weave, but you don’t try to strike. You know he knows it; this isn’t how it used to work. You can almost feel him get angrier as you fight, but you can’t make yourself hit back. You want him to knock you down, you deserve to take some shots.

You take two blows to the back and one to a shoulder; you fall back unsteadily but manage to find your footing and roll away from his next kick.

The match continues - you taking a handful of blows, though none with the force to level you, and Seungcheol with his lip curled in fury.

“If you’re not going to fight, then leave,” he spits.

“Would if I could,” you retort without thinking. You mean that you don’t want to be here like this - not talking, cold, at odds. But you know it reads as not wanting to be here at all.

It seems like everything you say and do only hurts him more.

“I didn’t mean -” you start, and Seungcheol takes your arms and flips you over his shoulders.

“Don’t waste my fucking time,” he says, brushing his hands together and stepping back to give you room to pick yourself up.

“Don’t curse at me,” you answer, pushing yourself to your hands and knees, pausing to catch your breath before rising fully again.

He shakes his head, rolls his eyes a little.

You hate this side of him.

You know you deserve it. For pushing him out. For leaving him here. For loving him, messing everything up, when he never asked for that.

“Seungcheol,” you say, but he ignores you, pacing a few steps and then turning to face you, lowering himself into a defensive stance, ready to spar again.

“Cheol,” you try again. “Listen to me.”

“Marshall scheduled us time to talk later,” he says flatly. “Right now we’re scheduled to fight. So fight me, Cherry. Let’s go.”

The rest of the hour continues the same. By the time it’s over, Seungcheol storms out without speaking to you, furious over every single pulled punch.

You don’t know what to do to make it all better.

You shower quickly, dressing in dry linens, and then re-emerge for the hours you’re scheduled to meditate together. You hope that maybe this will help the situation - maybe not talking will be good for you, give you a chance to feel your connection without the chance to fuck it up with words.

You’re wrong; trying to meditate together is just as desperately fruitless as sparring had been.

You can’t focus at all - can’t shift your attention to your breath, to your body, to the earth beneath you, to the energy of your partner.

Your partner is the distraction, though he sits perfectly still, eyes closed. He might as well be yelling. His shoulders are tight, his jaw still clenched. Anger radiates off him so strongly that it makes your stomach hurt, makes you want to cower from it. You can’t stop watching him, hoping you’ll see him relax, hoping you’ll see the moment that he lets go.

He doesn’t.

“Your eyes are supposed to be closed,” he murmurs, and you feel your face heat, embarrassed that he knew you were watching him.

“I can’t,” you admit. Maybe, you think, you should just be brutally honest, starting now. It’s not like you could make this worse. “I can’t stop noticing how angry -”

“Then stop pissing me off,” he snaps, eyes opening. “Just a suggestion.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” you cry, and push yourself to stand. You’re not sure why - maybe just to pace. “You never used to talk to me like this. Who are you?”

He looks at the floor, the first sign of guilt you’ve seen since you came home.

“Fine,” he finally bites back, and you know it’s as close to sorry as you’ll get. “I’ll reign it in. Sit back down.”

You shift your weight, arms crossed defensively across your chest, and close your eyes, deciding.

“Sit down, Cherry,” he repeats, and it’s gentler now. That’s what makes you cave, and you settle back across from him.

He’s less tense this time, so you eventually manage to close your eyes and count your breaths. But you’re still feeling for him, reaching for him in your mind, and coming up with nothing between you fingers. Touching him is as possible as touching the fog that used to blanket the training center, thick enough to blind you but impossible to grasp.

The pain feels like a cramp, except it’s behind your ribs instead of in your muscles. The pain grips and tightens, takes over. You want him, you want to be his again, you want to be inside these walls - where you used to fit comfortably. The fact that you’re out here, without him, aches so badly it makes you nauseated.

You want to beg him - let me in again, let me back in, let me be close to you again.

It won’t do any good, and you know it.

He was yours - you had him, you knew him, you could reach out to him and he’d pick you up. You’d taken it for granted, and you’d run away from it. You’d chosen to let it go, and now all you get is this: Seungcheol, cold and closed. Seungcheol, hating you for everything that happened.

—

Dinner is just as bad.

You go to the mess hall eager to see Wylie and Jeonghan and Seungkwan and all the other friends you haven’t seen in years. Wylie screeches like a banshee when she spots you, crossing the mess hall in a blur and hugging you so tightly that you both stagger, off balance, until Seungkwan joins the hug and rights you again.

“I missed you both so much,” you whisper, the only vulnerability anyone’s going to get out of you today.

“Then don’t leave again!” Wylie snaps, but you know the admonishment is full of love.

“I can’t promise,” you admit. Honestly, you’ve already made up your mind - you want to go back to Alaska. You’re not wanted here, not by the person who matters. What good are you, taking up a bed, if you can’t drift?

You’ve already given up hope that he’ll come around.

Seated at the table, you listen while your friends fill you in on what you’ve missed in three years - the fights in the bay, the new teams of pilots, the illnesses and injuries. You almost don’t notice Seungcheol silently takes a seat on Jeonghan’s other side, but something in you prickles, like you’ve sensed him.

The tension around the table heightens; the conversation goes a little stilted. When it’s apparent that he’s going to ignore you two seats down from him, Wylie slaps her hand flat on the tabletop.

“Come on, Seungcheol,” she scolds, and you’re sure no one wonders what she means.

His face goes dark so quickly it’s alarming. “Don’t,” he tells her darkly, one finger coming up to point at her in warning.

Her own eyes narrow and dart to her fork. Beside her, Chan’s eyes pingpong between them. He’s probably wondering if he should hold her back or join her.

“It’s fine,” you mutter, grabbing your tray and making to rise. “I’ll go.”

“Cherry, no,” Wylie protests, and then turns a glower onto your ex-co-pilot as if to say see what you did?

“It’s fine,” you repeat, standing. “I told my mom and dad I’d come by.”

You slink out before anyone else can argue.

You can’t even be mad at him - you did this by pushing him away. You hammered every last nail in the coffin by requesting to transfer. You pushed him out and you left him behind and now you have to face the reality that you can’t have him anymore. He isn’t yours, not anymore.

When you return to your dorm, he’s already in bed, the lights out. He’s facing the wall so you can only see his back, can only see the angry, tight shoulder poking out the top of the sheets. It tells you everything you need to know.

You don’t try to talk to him. You just go to bed.

—

You spend four days identically - fighting while sparring, not meditating, and avoiding Seungcheol’s ice-out. On the fifth day, your Marshall loses patience and changes your schedule. Your entire day is blocked to working on Duellona’s mainframe - buffing, repainting, greasing, and anything else you’re able to handle on your own.

“Since you can’t do anything else useful,” he adds, and you avoid Seungcheol’s eyes, ashamed.

Standing under Duellona’s unlit frame fills you with guilt. It feels like you’re letting her down, disappointing her by letting her rust here, failing your half of the bargain. You run your hands gently over the metal, finding the rough spots that need attention. Somewhere to your left, you can hear the telltale sounds of Seungcheol tightening bolts.

You work in silence for hours.

Eventually, you crack. You’re not sure if it’s the monotony of the task, the tension woven into the silence between you too, or being so close to your jaeger but unable to fight in it - maybe a combination. Something pushes at you from the inside, like a balloon trying to inflate under your skin and running out of room.

You flop backwards on the metal walkway, the grooves digging into your back. “What are we doing?” you ask, and you hear the tool Seungcheol had been using cling loudly as he sets it down.

“Following orders?” he says, stepping around Duellona’s side to look at you. “Fixing up the jaeger?”

“Fixing up the jaeger we don’t get to pilot?” you ask, sitting back up to look at him better.

“Is that what you’re here for?” he asks, the sudden ferocity of it surprising you. “To fight? Is that why you came back?”

You reach up to the walkway’s railing and pull yourself up. You feel yourself frowning at his question, at the heat behind it. 

“I’m back because the Marshall gave me an order,” you say slowly. 

“And that’s it?” he demands. 

You stare at him. You feel sure there’s more to the question, more that he’s asking. You feel sure, after knowing Choi Seungcheol down to the last molecule, that he’s really asking, you didn’t come back for me?

And it confuses you. You try to think about your split from his perspective: you’d shut him out, then slept with him, and then vanished. You’d made a lot of assumptions about his anger since then. You assumed he was angry at you for pushing him out of your head. You assumed he was angry at you for sleeping with him and then leaving. You assumed he was angry with you for ruining your drift, for ripping him away from the ability to fight. You assumed he was angry because he never knew why - never knew what it was that you were so desperate to hide, never knew why sleeping together had made things so much worse that the neural connection had fizzled into nothing altogether.

Is there more to it, his anger?

Should you call him on it, should you ask?

You take too long deciding. Seungcheol scoffs, like he’s disgusted with you. “I should have known,” he says coldly. “Princess of the Shatterdome, I should have known you only cared about piloting - about your legacy.”

This is something you’ve never said to him - that your desire to shine as brightly as your parents has weighed on you. This is something he’d pulled from the drift, something he only knew from tiptoeing around your mind before a fight. 

“That isn’t fair,” you say, your voice hard. “Is there another reason I should have come back? I’d love to hear it.”

He hears the challenge as it is - you didn’t ask me to come back, the Marshall did. You let me go.

He has nothing to say for himself, just stares back at you, eyes narrowed in anger, chest moving too quickly as he battles with his temper.

“Exactly,” you say curtly. The victory stings. It doesn’t feel like a win at all. “The bottom line is I’m here now, and we can pilot again if we can get our shit together.”

He shakes his head. “You left,” he says finally. “That’s the bottom line. You decided you were out, you decided you didn’t want me in your head, and then you left.”

He watches you, waits for you to say something. When you don’t, he lets out a derisive little laugh. “We’re both wasting our time here. The drift won’t work. We aren’t going to fix it.”

For the first time, fear slices through you like steel. “You can’t know that,” you say. You hear the fear in the way your voice comes out low and rounded, barely sounding like you at all.

“I can,” he retorts. “You know how I know? Because I don’t want to. You wanted me out of your head so badly? You got it. Can’t turn back now.”

He heads for the ladder, swings around and finds the third rung down with ease.

“So that’s it?” you ask his retreating form. Your heart is hammering and you’re starting to get tunnel vision. 

The only answer he gives you are his feet hitting each new rung with a clunk and a vibration that rattles up your legs.

—

You go to the training rooms alone and run through the forms just to do something; your mind turns the problem over and over as your body goes through the motions. After, you take a longer shower than normal, letting the water run hotter than you normally would.

After, you go to the Marshall’s office, determined. Or maybe resigned.

When he opens the door, he already looks irritated, like he knew exactly who would be on the other side.

“Requesting an audience,” you say flatly, fighting the instinct to cross your arms defensively.

He glances at his watch. “Five minutes.”

You step inside but leave the door open.

“I’m requesting transfer back to Alakanuk,” you tell him as evenly as you can manage. You’re sure he’s not surprised. “Seungcheol has made it very clear that we won’t be fighting together again. If that’s the case, then I can’t do anything useful here. But in Alakanuk I can.”

You pause, looking to see if you can read anything on the Marshall’s face - any hint that he’s considering what you’re saying, or that it’s a lost cause. He gives you nothing.

“Please,” you say. “Those girls need me. If I can’t help here, I can help them.”

The Marshall tilts his head just slightly. “Surely anyone can teach little girls the forms.”

You shake your head. “It’s more than that, and you know it. It’s not about the forms. I love those girls. I came back here to follow orders, and I tried. But if it isn’t going to happen… Please, don’t make me waste time here if I can be with them instead.”

The silence when you stop speaking seems to last for hours. Your heart pounds, and you work on keeping your breathing even. If he tells you no, you might just lose it, just give up entirely.

Finally, he takes a breath and seems to consider you. “If,” he says, and your eyes widen with hope, “your co-pilot agrees, then I will reassign you back to Alaska. But only if he will agree.”

“No problem,” you say quickly. Seungcheol was the one who said it was over. He should have no problem letting you leave.

When you step out of the Marshall’s office, Seungcheol steps out of the shadows. You should be surprised to see him, but in the Shatterdome it feels right that he just is wherever you are. That’s always how it was, before.

You look at him disdainfully. “I assume you heard that conversation?”

He nods, once.

“So?” you ask. “Will you tell him you approve, so I can go?”

For the first time since you returned, Seungcheol smiles, tight and sarcastic.

“No,” he says easily, like it’s kind of funny.

Fury erupts inside you; you can’t even pinpoint where in your body it stems from. “Why?” you demand. “Because you feel like I took something from you, so you want to take something from me?”

He doesn’t respond to this. You know you’re right. You know him. You know his mind.

“I hate to fuck up your narrative,” you spit at him, “but I’ve lost out here just as much as you have. You’re not the only one who lost the ability to fight. You’re not the only one who lost their partner.”

You wish you could tell him the rest - you’re not the one who spent three years with a broken heart on top of it. He had lost you as a partner and a friend - you had lost him in the same ways, and you’d had to harbor your broken heart.

He shakes his head. “Poor baby,” he bites sarcastically, and then takes off down the hallway, into the dark.

—

You stop sleeping at the dorm. Sometimes you sleep at your parents’, sometimes on Wylie and Chan’s tiny couch, sometimes in bed with Seungkwan, who kicks at you and whines that you take up too much space. Sometimes you sleep inside Duellona Fury, sitting up, your back against her metal frame.

The Marshall seems to have taken some pity on you. He schedules your mornings training the Dome’s recruits, and lets Seungcheol get back to what he was doing in your absence - which seems to be on track to move up in rank, to maybe become a Marshall himself, someday. It isn’t quite the same as being back with your girls, but training recruits feels at least somewhat fulfilling. And it keeps you and Seungcheol busy - separately - until afternoon.

Then, he schedules you to spar.

In your first week, you’d been unwilling to hit Seungcheol. You’d been feeling guilty for hurting him, sad for your time apart, hopeful that if you were soft to him, then he’d be soft back to you.

Now, you’re fucking furious.

For the first time, when the match begins, you hit him first. He’s surprised for only a second, eyebrows shooting up as he stumbles for balance, and then you watch something delighted and devilish fall over his face. Like he knows exactly what dance this is, and he’s been learning the steps in secret.

The match is brutal, reminiscent of your very first one, when you were both nineteen. You throw hit after hit his way; he blocks or dodges all of them. But he can’t get a hit on you either - you’re too quick, spurred on by fury. You’ve been angry in a fight before. But you’ve never been angry at him.

You spin and throw up a kick, expecting his forearm to rise and block it. Instead, you knock him in the jaw.

He grunts, hand flying up to cover his mouth, and you drop your stance with a gasp.

“Shit!” you cry, hurrying closer. “I’m so sorry! Are you bleeding? Let me look.”

“‘M fine,” he mutters thickly from behind his hand, but you ignore him. For a second, things are how they used to be between you. He lets you peel his hand away, lets you gingerly turn his head this way and that, even opens up so you can check his teeth.

“You’re gonna have a fat lip,” you tell him regretfully. “But nothing’s bleeding. Teeth look okay. Anything loose in there?”

He pokes around his teeth with his pinky. “Nope.”

You take a step back, cowed. “I’m really sorry.”

He laughs a little, wryly. “I bet you feel better, though.”

You bite back a smile. “Actually…” you say, and he laughs again. You both do.

Somehow, this seems to be the thing that cracks the anger you’ve both been encased in, unable to move forward or backward. You feel melted, and you wonder if he feels freer now, too.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you say. You mean the kick, but the words land heavy.

He avoids your gaze. “I need some water,” he says, turning and heading to the side of the room.

You do the same, sitting heavily on the bench where your water waits for you.

“Hey,” he says, and you look over, brows raised in anticipation. “Tell me about Alaska.”

You can’t help but smile.

“It’s so beautiful,” you tell him. “God, Cheol, the ocean there. And the birds, and the snow…”

He’s watching you, listening, but while he listens he stands and heads to the center of the ring, settling into a starting form. With a small smile, you follow, standing opposite him. He starts an easy match that’s mostly just following the eighth form. It includes some hits and blocks, but you both do them gently, easily, circling each other slowly.

“So you liked it?” he asks. You can hear how hard he’s working to make it sound casual.

“It was so beautiful,” you admit before ducking below a kick. “But it was also… really hard.”

“What was the best part?” he asks.

You smile, block a hit. He almost gets his hands on you for a flip, but you dodge around behind him. He turns to follow you. “Weirdly, it was taking care of them outside of class. We - the instructors - we kind of their moms, away from home, you know? I’m the one who knew Yejin won’t sleep unless someone sits by her bed for a while. I’m the one that knew that Farrah and Salome only argue because they’re competitive. I’m the one that knew that Maria and Anjali don’t know their times-tables, that Ximena can’t brush her own hair, or that Iseul is allergic to fish. I loved them. I loved knowing them.”

He looks at you for a long time. “Maybe you should go back,” he says finally.

It feels like a trap. 

You look at the floor, at the wall, then finally back at him. “If you’ll do this for real,” you say carefully, “then I’d rather be here. If we’re actually trying, then I don’t want to go.”

He’s quiet for a long time. Finally, he swallows hard, not looking at you.

“What was the worst part?”

There’s only one answer.

“Missing you,” you say. “Losing you.”

He manages to get both of your arms and hauls you over his shoulders. You land on your back so hard that the air is knocked out of your lungs and your eyes close protectively. For a second, you lay there panting, waiting for the pain in your back to settle down, waiting for the stars behind your eyelids to calm.

When you open them again, the ceiling coming into focus above you, the room is empty.

–

You have a hunch on where you can find him, and you head to the jaeger bay. Sure enough, he’s sitting below Duellona, knees to his chest, staring up at her.

You sit next to him and he doesn’t get up and leave, which you take as a good sign.

“I can’t do this if you’re not all in,” he tells you without looking at you. “You walked away from me once. I can’t let you back in my head if there’s any possibility you’ll walk away again. If you’re with me, I need you to be with me.”

Something prickles in the back of your head. You feel like you’re starting to realize something - the seed of an understanding is pushing delicately through the dirt, but hasn’t yet spread out its leaves under the warmth of the sun yet.

Something about his hurt. Something about why.

“I think we should try to drift,” you tell him.

This seems to startle him - he forgets to be cold, turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I can tell you how much I missed you,” you reason, “and tell you about how I spent every minute just… steeped in regret. Or we can walk through it - you can see for yourself.”

You know what you’re risking. If he gets into your head now, he’ll see it all - he’ll know everything, he’ll be able to feel for himself the depth of your loss, the height of your love. 

But what’s the harm, now? You can’t lose him twice. Maybe it’ll be enough for him to realize you hadn’t left him because you didn’t care about him. Maybe it’ll be enough for his forgiveness. 

Maybe then, he’ll tell the Marshall to let you go back to Alakanuk. 

It’s Seungkwan you bother, since he’d been in mission control before finding his team of co-pilots. The sideways look he gives you as he walks to your conn pod is withering, but you know better than to take it personally.

You buzz with nerves. The last time you’d tried this, the neural handshake hadn’t even connected. There had just been nothing.

The second you hear neural handshake initiating, you almost sob with relief. You can’t even pay attention to the memories - Seungcheol’s memories - floating around you; you want to collapse, to press your palms to the ground and thank the universe for letting you back in.

His first memories are a breeze - the ones you’ve jogged through together hundreds of times: his first home, his school, his father’s hospital room, the Dome. Then you slow your pace, because this is new.

You’re facing the landing dock on the Shatterdome’s roof. Seungcheol stands with his back to you, watching through the glass walls as a helicopter waits, the pilot talking into his headset.

You watch yourself walk towards the chopper’s open door. You watch yourself leave, remember how hard it was to not look back.

You hadn’t known that Seungcheol had been there, that he had seen you go.

The pain that accompanies the memory hits you like you’re drowning, like it’s too deep and you can’t feel the bottom, and you feel the machinery falter around you.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “I’m with you.”

He nods, still doesn’t look at you. But the beeping stops, the connection holding. 

There’s knowledge in this memory, knowledge in this pain. Seungcheol’s thoughts in this moment read in your head as clearly as if he said them aloud - I did this. I pushed her too far; I made her run.

You can’t stay here, can’t let him wallow in the memory of pain. You had to move forward - that’s how the drift works. Reluctantly you step towards the door, glancing over your shoulder to see if he’s following. 

He is. His jaw is tight and fists are clenched, but he is.

When the next memory - not in order of chronology, clearly - appears before you, you want to vanish into the floor. You’re watching yourselves in Seungcheol’s bed. Thankfully, you’re sleeping - this was after. But in the memory, Seungcheol is awake, laying on his side, his eyes drinking in your sleeping form.

The emotions and the knowledge come with it in an instant. The tenderness and the love he felt in that moment surround you now in the memory, unignorable, impossible to mistake. 

He had loved you. He had known you loved him, and he was showing you how he felt. The understanding slams you so hard that you think you stop breathing.

“Seungcheol,” you whisper. Around you, the scene begins to flicker, the connection starting to react to the oversaturation of emotion.

“We can talk about it after,” he says, voice hard. “Don’t stay in it. Find the next door.”

Your eyes find the door, but you feel frozen. You want the connection to drop, you want to unlock yourself from the stupid drive-suit and throw yourself into his arms, you want to apologize for leaving him thinking he’d pushed you away, thinking that he scared you into running.

“Cherry,” he warns. “The drift can’t -”

You know. 

And you owe him your side of the story.

You take a steeling breath and head for the door. You don’t take his hand. You don’t know if you deserve to, if he’d want you to.

When you step through the doors, you’re confused - you’re still in your dorm. Your bodies are both in the bed.

Now, though, Seungcheol sleeps, and you - the memory of you - sits on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. 

You feel the emotion the memory holds, which means Seungcheol does, too.

Fear. It’s still fear - fear that he’ll know, fear that what you just did together will make it worse, make it harder to hide. 

Beside you, Seungcheol’s eyes go wide. 

“We have to move on,” you tell him. He looks at you, then back at the memory. 

“You -?” he starts to ask.

“After,” you tell him firmly. “We’ll talk after.”

You open the door, and you’re suddenly outside, surrounded by white.

Alaska.

The emotion knocks you over with the fury of an ocean wave - even though you know you’re not supposed to let it. This was how you had felt every day that you were gone, and it screams at you now, determined to be heart, determined to be felt. The loneliness, the regret, the despair and heartbreak all rise up in you, overtaking you, as snow falls gently and silently around you.

And the love. That never went away. That never mellowed, as the Marshall had put it.

If he didn’t know before, he has to know now. There’s no way he couldn’t.

Seungcheol squeezes your hand, and you almost jump. You look down at your linked fingers in shock, then up at him, eyes wide.

“We should go back and talk about this,” he tells you, but his grip on you is firm, assuring.

“Okay. It’s this way,” you tell him, trying to breathe, and you lead him by the hand through the snow. The fog strengthens as you walk, until you can’t see anything but grey, can’t see anything but Seungcheol’s hand in yours.

You continue on. You know where to go. When you step through, the fog vanishes as if it was never there, nothing gradual about it. With the fog gone, you can see clearly where you are - inside Duellona Fury’s conn-pod.

As you begin to work on the straps, you call through the intercom, “Kwan? We… need some privacy. We’ve got to talk - alone.”

His voice crackles back at you. “Yes, I’m leaving, I’m already gone. If you hear popcorn crunching, no you don’t.”

Seungcheol gives you a flat look. “Let’s go home and talk,” he suggests.

Home.

You are so afraid and so hopeful. You don’t know how to juggle both.

Back in your small living space, you sit like you’re meditating.

“Let’s figure this out,” he says. “No lies.”

“No lies,” you agree. Your knees touch, and you reach to take his hands. He lets you, giving your fingers a squeeze.

“You knew,” you say first, bordering on accusation. “I was trying so hard to hide how I felt about you… but you knew.”

He nods, his eyes on you. “And you,” he says slowly, “didn’t… know? That I knew?”

You shake your head, confirming. “I didn’t know. I thought I hid it.”

He smiles at you, a little placating. “Not as well as you would have liked.”

“And you…” You chicken out, swallow, force yourself to be brave. “You… loved me, too?”

He nods. “I did.” 

The air leaves your lungs so forcefully that you bend over, pressing your forehead to the tops of your hands. He pulls his hands from yours and you feel his touch, firm and reassuring, cupping your shoulders and rubbing his thumbs along them.

“We felt the same,” you echo into your shins. “You loved me.”

“Cherry,” he says above you, his voice like a plea. “I don’t understand why - when we… when I… I felt like once I forced you to look at it, it was too much. You ran.”

You sit with this for a minute, stunned and processing. His hands are back in yours, which you take as a good sign. 

“You thought… wait. You thought, after that night, that I knew how you felt, too?”

He nods. “I thought you knew,” he says, confusion still present in his tone. “I thought we both knew. I thought if it was out in the open, the glitch in the drift would be fixed.”

You wipe at your face, trying to breathe. “And instead,” you realize, “we couldn’t even connect, because I was still trying to hide it from you, and then you were hurt. I thought it was broken. I thought we really broke it forever.”

He looks at you in wonder. “That’s why you left,” he breathes, and you know he’s understanding this for the first time. “You thought we made the problem worse.”

It’s your turn to nod. “After we…I mean, I knew if I couldn’t hide it from you before that night, there was no chance I’d be able to hide it after. I kept you out in the first place because I… was afraid. I was afraid for you to see how much I loved you. It seemed… hopeless to keep trying.”

The words lay bloody between you, but his grip on your hands is strong, and you take another breath.

You push on, adding, “I was afraid it would be too much. I was afraid everything would change.”

Which it did, you think. He nods, like he hears this, like he agrees.

He releases you and leans back, blowing out a loud breath. “We’re so fucking stupid,” he says, and you splutter out a laugh.

“We really are.”

“I can’t believe we lost three years over that,” he says.

“I can’t believe you thought it was your fault that I left.”

“I can’t believe you left in the first place.”

This makes you smile, guilty. “That’s fair.”

You push yourself to stand; Seungcheol mirrors you, as if you’re already in the neural handshake, bodies working in tandem. 

“Cherry,” he says quietly, stepping closer. “It could never be too much. I love you. I’m crazy about you. I’m only me when I’m with you.”

You remember him, the night you’d slept together, telling you, don’t be afraid. He’d told you, after all, and you’d missed it entirely.

You close the distance between your bodies and kiss him hard. His arms circle your waist immediately, like they were waiting for you. He kisses you back hungrily. His mouth meets yours eagerly, his tongue stroking yours confidently before he shifts his attention to your jaw, your neck, then your mouth again. His hands don’t wander this time - instead he holds you so firmly it almost hurts, like he won’t let you move an inch, won’t let you out of his grasp ever again.

You cradle his face between your hands, let your teeth gently scrape along his bottom lip. “Cheol,” you whisper, then kiss him again. “You’re everything.” It’s what you should have said aloud the night you’d slept with him.

When the kiss breaks, he presses his lips to the top of your head and holds them there, melting around you a little. You give his middle a squeeze, revel in his heartbeat surrounding you like music.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I didn’t just say it.”

“Me too,” you tell him, holding him just a little tighter. “I should never have tried to hide it from you in the first place.”

He kisses your temple, and you hold each other, silently, each grappling with the time you’d wasted apart. 

You’re interrupted by a knock. You break apart, puzzled. You’re even more puzzled to see your Marshall at the door, and Seungkwan literally bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement.

“I’ve heard your drift is working again,” the Marshall says dryly. 

You look over your shoulder at Seungcheol, grinning. “Seems like it.”

“There’s a Cat-1 reading in the bay. I was about to alarm for Pretty Savage to drop, but Savage’s team insisted I give you the opportunity first. They can follow as backup. How do you feel?”

Seungcheol is at your side. He looks at you, his face open and raw. “Well?” he asks you. “Are you in, or are you out?”

“I’m in,” you tell him seriously. “I’m with you.”

You thrum with excitement as a tech team helps strap you into the drive-suits, and you can’t help but shoot Seungcheol a wild grin, your happiness alive and unbounded. 

You tell mission control - Nainsi, probably, just like the old days - “Ready and aligned.”

Mission Control - definitely Nainsi - responds, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

The artificial voice bounces around you - 3… 2… 1… neural handshake initiating…

Around you, the machines flicker busily. Neural handshake strong and holding. Now calibrating…

You’re crying, but you ignore it. You beam through tears, looking sideways at your co-pilot. His eyes dance as he smiles back at you. You want to unstrap yourself to the drivesuit and go kiss his dimples, the dimples you hadn’t seen in years. You resist the urge.

“Ready to drop?”  He looks sideways at you, sly. 

You scoff at him, your own grin cocky and sure, like you’re twenty again, like nothing had ever been broken between you. “Been ready. Let’s light ‘em up.”

– end

thank you so much for reading!!!!

stay tuned for more fics in this universe! Wylie and Chan will get their own fic written by @sailorrhansol, as will Woozi! I'm also planning a Vernon x Reader in this universe, too! Should be a fun time!!

[serejae]

WONDER WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE LOVED BY YOU | CSC

IN WHICH a desperate seungcheol who wants nothing more but to know what its like to be loved by you

[nevernonline]

✧.* heartbreak girl; csc one shot.

synopsis: Seungcheol struggles with his feelings for his best friend, y/n, who is caught in a complicated relationship. As he watches her suffer from heartbreak, he finds it increasingly difficult to conceal his love for her.

paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

genre:friends2lovers

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) some minor sexy stuff, but not much really.

word count: 8.6k

content: . non-idol idolings, big brother Joshua. asshole boyfriends yk. Cheol is painfully in love.

note: non edited prob weird typos, xo.

Seungcheol stood outside the bustling café, the familiar sound of laughter and chatter spilling through the door like an intoxicating aroma. He had been meaning to meet his friends here for a while, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. Instead, it felt heavy, aching at the thought of her—Y/n, his best friend and the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart.

They had grown up together, their lives intertwined like the branches of the old oak tree that sat as the bridge between their childhood bedrooms. Seungcheol had always been protective of y/n, watching from the sidelines as she navigated the ups and downs of her life. But just recently, something had shifted between them, a current of unspoken words and emotions that neither dared to acknowledge.

He pushed open the door and made his way through the crowd, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. Y/n sat at a corner table, her hair cascading over her shoulders, lost in conversation with another friend. But Seungcheol could see it in her eyes—the flicker of worry, the slight downturn of her lips. He knew her better than anyone, and lately, she had seemed off.

His heart raced as he approached the table, steeling himself for the inevitable conversation. “Hey, Soojin, Y/n.” he greeted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“Seungcheol! You made it!” Y/n exclaimed, the warmth of her voice wrapping around him like a comfort blanket. But as her expression shifted to one of concern, he could see the cracks behind her cheerful facade.

“You okay?” he asked, unable to hide the worry in his own voice.

“Yeah, just... a lot going on,” she said, brushing it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Seungcheol glanced at her friend, who seemed to sense the underlying tension and quickly excused herself. The moment of solitude felt charged, and Seungcheol knew they needed to talk.

“Listen, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me,” he urged, leaning forward. “I’m your friend, Bunny. I want to help.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just... Alex,  dating has been, and it’s... complicated. I think he might be seeing someone else.”

Seungcheol remembered when Y/n first started dating her current partner, he was alright, nothing special compared to the girl who was standing in front of him. 

past

When he first met y/n boyfriend she had just gotten back from college for the weekend as Seungcheol stepped onto her front lawn waiting inside patiently next to y/n’s brother Joshua, he was considering running down the sidewalk to her when a guy appeared out of the front seat to hug her mother. It was in a flash of a moment he knew this guy was her boyfriend. 

Seungcheol's heart sank, but he tried impossible hard to maintain a composed exterior. He forced a smile and greeted y/n with a wave as she approached, her boyfriend trailing beside her. Joshua nudged Seungcheol gently, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Hey, Seungcheol!" y/n called out, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Bunny," Seungcheol replied, his voice steady. "How is school, my little scholar?"

"It’s been great, but I’ve missed home, especially your mom’s cooking," she said, glancing at her boyfriend. "Oh, Shit. I should introduce you! This is Alex."

Alex extended a hand towards Seungcheol. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Nice to meet you too," Seungcheol said, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed how Alex's grip was strong but not overbearing, a sign of confidence and respect.

The four of them stood there for a moment, the air filled with unspoken words. Joshua, sensing the tension, quickly suggested, "Why don't we all head inside? Mom made us some lemonade. Feel free to spike it yourself."

Of course they all agreed, and as they walked towards the house, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal a glance at y/n. She seemed happy, and that was what mattered most to him, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

Inside, the house was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly squeezed lemon, probably just a room spray her mom thought would make her lemonade pop more, which helped make Cheol smile even more. y/n's mother greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with joy at having her two kids home. The group settled into the cozy living room, the atmosphere gradually easing into one of laughter and shared stories.

Seungcheol listened intently, contributing when he could, but mostly observing the dynamics between y/n and Alex. He noticed the small gestures of affection, the way they seemed to understand each other with just a glance. It was clear they shared a deep connection.

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol felt a mix of emotions. There was an undeniable pang of that little green monster creeping in, but also a sense of acceptance. He realized that y/n's happiness was the most important thing, and if Alex was the one who brought that to her, then he would do his best to support her wholeheartedly.

Later, after many sneaks to Joshua’s hidden liquor, too many slices of pizza, and card games, they all stood on the porch saying their goodbyes, y/n gave Seungcheol a tight hug. "It really is good to see you, Seungcheol. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," he promised, his voice sincere. "Take care of yourself, y/n."

“You know I always do,” she gripped onto his sweatshirt sleeve, and flashed her award winning smile his way, “And if I find myself in need of a body guard I’ll be sure to call you.” 

With one last wave, Seungcheol watched as she and Alex walked down the driveway, hand in hand. He sighed softly, turning to Joshua who gave him a sympathetic look.

"Come on," Joshua said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get a beer, bro. My treat."

Seungcheol nodded, grateful for Joshua's friendship. As they walked away, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Life had a way of surprising you, and he knew that his story was far from over.

A few months had passed now and finally the  sun was shining brightly as their friend group gathered around the picnic table, laughter and chatter filling the air. Plates of food were being passed around, and the aroma of grilled meat wafted through the garden. Which sure, sounded a little gross, but it was just another sign of the changing of seasons, but not the changing of where his heart was gravitating. Y/N was in her element, flitting from one group to another, her energy infectious.

Seungcheol watched her from a distance, like he usually would, holding a fond smile on his lips. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she brought people together, how her presence seemed to light up even the most simple of places.

"Hey, earth to Idiot!" Y/N's voice broke through his daydream. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips and a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you ready for our trip tomorrow?"

He grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I knew you’d never disappoint me!" she exclaimed, her smile widening. "It's going to be the best one yet, I can feel it. Something about the smell of the rain this year tells my heart the flowers will be perfect.”

Seungcheol chuckled, captivated by her excitement. "You and your weird as fuck sixth sense about flowers," he teased gently.

She punched him playfully. "Hey, don't underestimate my flower intuition. It's never wrong. It’s like how you always can for some reason tell how many people got a draft beer before you based on some fucked up freshness level you created. I mean we could always take a bet and see who everyone thinks is more insane.” 

As the evening wore on, they continued to chat and laugh, the anticipation for their trip growing with each passing moment. The backyard was now filled with the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. And Seuncheol was still sitting with Y/n listening to her talk on and on about her new weird interests. 

"Remember the first time we went on this trip?" Y/N asked, her gaze distant as she reminisced. "We got lost for hours, and you were so convinced that we were going to get mauled by a bear or a cougar or something?” 

“We didn’t have gas or cell service. I feel like it was a fair assumption to make.” Seungcheol smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed  remembering how he embarrassed himself around her even though he’s sure there were worse incidents. 

“But, we were at a reststop.” 

“But it was pouring rain, y/n. Come on.” 

“Fine, I’ll let you have it,” she ruffled her pretty hands through his hair “I still think you’re silly.” 

“You’re always so mean to me, when I do everything for you.” 

“It’s just so easy.” 

“By the way,” Seungcheol rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, “Where’s Alex this weekend?” 

“Uh,” Y/n gave him a soft smile that he wasn’t so convinced was real, “With his parents in Antigua I think? Not sure, some weird beach vacation. Sounds boring.” 

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tension in Y/n's tone. “Antigua, huh? Must be nice,” he replied, his voice deliberately casual, though he couldn't help the hint of envy creeping in. 

Y/n shrugged, her smile flickering momentarily. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, I’d much rather be here, hanging out with you guys. This is way more fun. And don’t tell Josh, but I miss seeing him every day.”

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked. “I mean, it’s a tropical paradise, and you’d choose me and your brother over that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her gaze meeting him with sincerity. “Why would I want to be stuck on a beach when I could be here, laughing and just… being ourselves? This is way more my style.”

Her words warmed him, but a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. “So, no Alex for the weekend, then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Y/n bit her lip, a flicker of thought crossing her face. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess it’s a bit of both? It’s nice to have some time to myself. But… you know how it is.” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away as if contemplating something deeper.

“Yeah, I do. Relationships can be complicated,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the opportunity. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

She turned back to him, and her expression softened. “Thanks, Seungcheol. That means a lot.”

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol found himself lost in conversations with old friends and making new ones. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a perfect reflection of Y/N's spirit.

Later, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves talking through their open childhood bedroom windows. 

"Thanks for always being there, Seungcheol," Y/N said softly, her gaze fixed on picking at her nails..

He watched her, his heart swelling with affection. "Always, Y/N. That's what friends are for."

She leaned her head on her hand, and they stared at each other, both hoping that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

At that moment, Seungcheol realized that sometimes, the most beautiful places were the ones you were at with the people you cared about the most.

As Seungcheol sat in his dimly lit room, the flickering glow of the y/n’s Scooby-Doo night light shone in his window, transporting him back to the warmth of Y/n’s presence. He could picture her room perfectly: the walls adorned with posters of their favorite shows, remnants of their laughter still hanging in the air. It had always been a haven for her—a place where her dreams intertwined and her deepest secrets were shared.

Years passed quickly, and that cherished tradition of celebrating their friendship had drifted away like fall leaves caught in a breeze. Life took them in separate directions, and despite the countless apologies Y/n sent his way, Seungcheol could never quite shake the feeling of loss. He always believed that she knew how much those moments meant to him; her absence felt like a missing piece of his heart that was waiting to be filled.

While he tried to move on, dating a variety of girls who were kind and entertaining, none of them were Y/n. He often found himself comparing their laughter to hers, their quirks to the little things he cherished about her. It felt like an act of treason against the relationships he pursued, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the old feelings from creeping back into his heart.

As he reflected on it all, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why couldn't he just let go? It was foolish to cling to a childhood crush on your best friend's little sister that seemed to grow more distant by the day. But deep down, he sensed that what he felt for Y/n was something more profound than a simple infatuation. She was his first crush, someone he confided in, and the keeper of so many memories that covered his soul with nostalgia and warmth.

It was during one of those restless nights, when the weight of her absence pressed heavily on his chest, that he made a decision. Seungcheol had to  reach out to Y/n. No more waiting for the right moment or hoping for a chance meeting. He needed to tell her how he felt, how much he still cared, and how he longed for the connection they once shared.

Building up his courage the moment turned into an eternity as he waited, and just as doubt began to creep in, his phone buzzed, it was her calling him as if he had manifested catching up with her. 

Seungcheol's heart raced as he saw Y/n's name flash across the screen. Just the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through him, he pushed it down and tried to take it as a reminder of all the times they had spent together, laughing until their sides hurt or sharing secrets late into the night, almost like excitement. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the accept button, uncertainty warring with excitement. 

But before he could overthink it any longer, he pressed "accept" and set his phone to the speaker. “Y/n?”

“Cheol!” Her voice was bright, and it ignited something deep within him—an undeniable longing. “I can’t believe I finally caught you. I’ve missed you so much, sorry for the phone tag, I have been so fucking busy. 

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. “It’s been way too long. I was just thinking about texting you when you called.”

“I feel bad for not making it home to see you lately,” she admitted, a hint of regret in her tone. “But.. uh, I’d love to fix that. How about we get together this weekend, like we used to? Maybe invite Soojin? Joshua?” 

“Let’s do it.” A smile spread across his face. “We can go to that bar we used to sneak into and catch a show legally now?” 

“Sounds perfect. Do me a favor?” she said, genuine enthusiasm shining through her words.

“Yes?” he waiting on the other end of the line hearing her giggling slightly to herself. 

“Wear that old Sonic Youth t-shirt you have?” 

“Why would I wear that?” 

“Not sure. I just like that t-shirt. Please?” 

Seungcheol’s heart swelled at the thought of being with her again, but he also felt the weight of unresolved feelings pressing on him. They’d both changed, but would the bond they shared still resonate the same way? Would she see him as just her brother’s friend or as something more?

As they continued to chat, Seungcheol tried to gauge her tone, the way she spoke about her life, the little nuances that indicated where she stood. Y/n spoke about college, her friends, and of course Alex.Her enthusiasm was infectious. But every laugh pulled him further back into the past, to the innocent moments when everything had felt so uncomplicated.

“Hey, Y/n,” he ventured, his heart beating a little faster as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to ask… How are you handling everything? I know things have changed for both of us.”

Y/n paused, and he could almost hear her brain processing the question. “Honestly? It’s been a bit of a whirlwind. I’m still figuring things out, but having people around who care makes it easier.”

“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, wishing he could just lay bare his feelings, let his heart spill out the way they used to share their secrets. “You know, I’ve always been here if you need someone to talk to.”

Her voice softened, and he could sense the shift in the conversation. “I know, and I appreciate that, Cheol. You’ve always been there for me, just like… well, I cant think of something always there for something else, but you get it..”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm again, but as the call slowly wound down, Seungcheol felt a flicker of resolve.

As they said their goodbyes, he heard Y/n’s voice resonate with warmth, and for a moment, the distance between them felt almost non-existent. “See you this weekend, okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the endless possibilities that lay ahead. 

Closing his phone, he let out a deep breath, a smile breaking across his face. The connection he had yearned for was just around the corner, and as he lay back on his bed, he knew that this time, he wouldn’t hold back. 

present:

His heart sank at the words, a wave of frustration washing over him. “You deserve so much better than that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Don’t let anyone treat you like you’re not worth it. How do you know he’s cheating on you?

Y/n took a shaky breath, the anguish evident in her expression. “I’ve seen the signs—the late nights, the changing passwords, the way he ducks away when I try to talk about us.” She paused, her voice cracking slightly. “I just feel it deep inside, like this gnawing instinct that something isn’t right.”

Seungcheol felt his protectiveness swell within him. The thought of anyone treating her poorly made his blood boil. “Those signs aren’t just coincidence, Y/n. People shouldn’t make you second-guess yourself like that.”

She looked down, her fingers tracing the patterns on her jeans. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the more I try to brush it aside, the more it eats away at me. I just wish I had the strength to confront him.” 

“You do have that strength,” he urged, leaning closer, wanting to make eye contact to convey just how serious he was. “You’re stronger than you think. No one should keep you in the dark or make you feel like you have to doubt yourself. But if you need my help or anyone elses you know you can ask us right? You don’t have to fight it alone. Is that why you’ve been avoiding us lately?” 

“Yeah and I’m sorry I’m embarrassed. But what if I’m wrong? What if I confront him and it turns out I’m just being paranoid?” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away in frustration, the vulnerability on display pulling sharply at Seungcheol’s heart.

“Y/n, you’re not paranoid; you’re being cautious. People should earn your trust, not break it. If he really cared about you, he’d be open and honest, not leave you guessing.” Seungcheol felt a surge of emotion, desperately wanting to help her see the truth. “You have every right to bring up your concerns. If he reacts poorly, that’s a huge huge fucking red flag.”

She nodded slowly, another tear escaping despite her efforts to contain them. “I just don’t want to lose more than what I already feel like I’ve lost.. I just don’t know what to do, I guess. I’m sorry I’m ruining our fun.”

At that moment, Seungcheol couldn’t help but reach out, gently cupping her chin with his fingers so she would look up at him. “You are never ruining our fun, by telling us how you feel. Remember, you’re the one who deserves to be valued, not just by him, but by everyone in your life, especially those who say they love you.”

Their eyes locked, and he felt a change in the air around them—a connection that transcended the conversation that was sinking like a stone. “You deserve love that lifts you up, that makes you feel secure. Not a relationship that makes you doubt your worth and changes your life poorly.”

“Cheol…” she started, but he could see the struggle in her eyes, the facade of strength crumbling as the truth sunk in. She was scared, scared of the possibilities, but perhaps also scared of how much this all mattered to her.

“I’ll be right here with you, no matter what happens,” he promised, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him. “We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to face any of it alone.” 

Y/n's expression softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased just a little. “Thank you. It just helps to know someone cares I guess.” 

Seungcheol nodded, yearning to break through the last barriers between them. “I’ve always cared for you, Y/n. Always. And I’ll keep caring, no matter what.” Even as those words left his mouth, he felt a weight in his chest—he wanted her to see just how much more she meant to him than mere friendship, but the time for that would come later. Right now, she needed a friend in her corner, and he would be that friend, no matter what. “Should we have a drink now?” 

She smiled at him again, giving him a side hug. “Yes, maybe some shots too?” 

Seungcheol immediately got to his feet and winked as he bee-lined for the bar standing next to Joshua and Soojin, filling them in on his conversation with y/n. The three of them didn’t mention it the rest of the night, but just made sure to give her the best time dancing and forgetting about her shitty relationship issues before the alcohol settled in her system too much and Cheol had to carry her home. 

Joshua unlocked their front door and slid into the house quietly rushing in the three other party goers in hopes not to wake his mom up considering it was a work night. 

Y/n brother pulled her shoes off and rested them at the front door, basically begging Seungcheol to carry her up to her bedroom so he could go get Soojin some pajamas and change his sheets for her in his room which Cheol obliged being the most sober. 

As he was carrying his friend to bed she looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know I’m drunk, but I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed again. I just... feel so lost.”

Seungcheol felt a pang of concern as he adjusted his grip on her, his heart aching at the vulnerability etched across Y/n's face. He knew the night had been a whirlwind—filled with laughter, dancing, and fleeting moments of joy—but now, as he carried her up the stairs, her honesty pierced through the haze of alcohol.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel lost. You’ve been through a lot. But just remember, you have lots of people riding for you. 

Y/n blinked slowly, her features wavering as she processed his words. “I don’t want to burden you,” she admitted, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to be sad because of me.

Seungcheol paused just outside her bedroom door, carefully shifting her weight so she wasn't too uncomfortable. “You’re not a burden, Y/n. Friends support each other. That’s what we do.”

Her lips trembled slightly, and she looked down, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just... I wish I could see things clearly. I want to believe it’ll get better, but I’m scared it won’t.” 

He took a deep breath, choosing his buzzed words carefully. “It’s natural to feel scared. Change is intimidating, especially when it comes to relationships that have been so significant in your life. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start taking the steps to find what you really deserve. Like we talked about earlier. You’re worth that big true love, Y/n, even if you can’t see it just yet.”

Looking into her eyes, he noticed the flicker of hope battling against the weight of her sorrow. “You deserve to feel loved, celebrated and so fucking cherished, not just tolerated. And trust me,” he added, trying to inject a touch of warmth into his words, “the right person will come along, maybe they already have. You’re incredible.”

Y/n’s gaze held onto his, searching for truth in his words. “Do you really think so?” 

“Yes, loser,” he affirmed, nodding. “I’ve been singing your praises for years, remember I did write a letter to Harry Styles trying to get him to go out with you when he was still on X-Factor so until that person comes along, I’m right here.” He started moving again, gently pushing the door open with his knee.

As he stepped inside, he carefully laid her onto the bed, her comfort a priority in the quiet space. “Just rest for now. Tomorrow is a new day. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. Just let it go.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening as the corners of her mouth edged toward a small smile. “Thanks, CheolieI don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he assured her, tucking the blanket around her. “You’re stuck with me now.” He grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wash over them, dispelling some of the heavy emotions lingering in the air.

She laughed softly, a sound that melted some of the tension from his chest. “Okay, but just for tonight! Tomorrow, I’ll have to start figuring things out. And can you do me one more incredibly annoying awkward favor that we never have to speak of again?” 

“Deal,” he replied playfully. “Depending on how embarrassing it is?” 

“Can you help me put on my pajamas? Or at least unbutton my shirt for me, I’m so warm and too drunk to care right now.” 

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked his shock with a teasing grin. “Wow, is y/n too drunk to get undressed herself, it’s bringing me back to when you had your senior party.”

Y/n shrugged, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and the sudden vulnerability of the moment. “I’m serious! I can’t get the buttons right now,” she grumbled, a laugh escaping her lips as she realized just how ridiculous the request was.

“Shut up, it’s fine.” he said, trying to maintain the playful spirit of the moment while also respecting her boundaries. “But you have to promise me you won’t regret this in the morning.”

“How could anyone regret that the night star football player and homecoming king four years running Choi Seungcheol took their clothes off?” she replied with a slight smirk. “Can we actually stop fucking around though and  focus on getting me comfy so I can pass out without feeling like I’m wearing a fucking straightjacket.”

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me,” he smirked back, trying to suppress his nervousness. Carefully, he shifted to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, ensuring he kept the atmosphere light and respectful. “I’ll work my special magic.”

He helped her sit up and, taking a deep breath, gently began unbuttoning her shirt. With each button he opened, he focused on keeping his movements steady and casual,trying not to touch inappropriately whatsoever,  stealing glances at her face rather than her torso. “See, I’m not so bad at this, right? Even being out of practice.” he joked, trying to ease any tension in the air. 

Y/n chuckled softly, her laughter lightening the mood. “Yeah, you’re doing great. Just stop making it weird.”

“Me? Make it weird? Psh.” he teased back, his heart racing slightly as he continued, relieved that her demeanor was playful. As the last button came undone, he carefully helped her shrug the shirt off, revealing a soft bra top underneath. 

“You literally just confessed to not getting laid in a long time, weirdo. Too much information.” 

“God, shut up, I did not” he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he set the shirt aside. “Mission accomplished.. But it’s a good look, just so you know.”

“You’re just buttering me up to make me forget this moment, Cheol,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes despite her slightly vulnerable state.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! This moment is going straight into the  archives as ‘That Time I Helped Y/n Get Ready for Bed,” he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

Y/n giggled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous. 

Seungcheol felt warmth radiate in his chest at her words. “And you’re worse,” he said genuinely, his smile softening. “Now get some rest, cutie. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything else.” 

“You can stay here if you want? Joshua is sleeping on the couch because Soojin’s in his room.” 

“Oh, uh. I’ll be alright on the floor downstairs. You get some sleep okay?” 

“Goodnight, Cheolie,” she whispered, nearly missing him calling her an affectionate name, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of sleep began to envelop her.

“Goodnight, Bunny.” He watched her peaceful expression for a moment, then stood up from the edge of her bed and made his way to the door, feeling a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he felt pride in being there for her, but a flicker of longing stirred inside him, reminding him of how much he truly fell in love with her.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he leaned against the wall, contemplating going back in there and comforting  her for the night but also how it could affect their friendship and the feelings that lingered just below the surface. Tonight wasn't just another night; it felt like a turning point. Seungcheol had no idea where it would ultimately lead, but for now, he was grateful to be her anchor, even in the midst of uncertainty.

The next morning rolled in like a thunder cloud for y/n, she remembered walking home, but not much after that. She sat up under her pink fuzzy blanket in nothing other than her bra and skirt she had on the night before, her hair smooshed up on the back of her head like a pancake. 

She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there but whoever took her upstairs left a glass of water on the nightstand and two tylenol. She smiled, grateful people have always looked out for her like this. Downing the two white pills and the entire glass of water she shot up and headed for the bathroom, walking in non- chalantly thinking nobody was behind the white door. As she turned the knob a voice came ringing in her ears. 

“Josh I told you- Oh,” Seungcheol was shirtless with nothing but his wet hair cascading down his face and his towel wrapped around his body parts.” Y/n sorry.. I was just uh.. Finished.” 

She slapped her hands over her eyes whispering a sorry and running back into her room, feeling a blush hit her cheeks. 

Y/n's heart raced as she slammed the bathroom door shut and ran down the hall slamming her bedroom door shut her back against it, her mind swirling with embarrassment. She could practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she replayed the scene in her head. How had she not realized Seungcheol was right there? 

After taking a moment to collect herself, she peeked out through her fingers, her heart still pounding. “No, no, no. Why did I have to walk in like that?” she muttered under her breath, doing her best to calm the embarrassment bubbling up inside her. She could still picture Seungcheol’s surprised expression, 

With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take it easy. “You’re both adults.And your friends like it, it's fine.  Mistakes happen,” she whispered, trying to rationalize the embarrassment.

Y/n slowly shuffled back to her bed and flopped down face-first into her pillow, groaning. “Why is this my life?” she lamented silently, wanting to sink into the depths of her blankets and hide from the world altogether.

After a couple of minutes spent wallowing in her own pity, she finally sat up and took stock of the situation. She had to laugh at herself; if anyone could handle a little awkwardness, it was definitely Seungcheol.

With newfound resolve, she decided to brush off the incident. After all, she couldn’t stay cooped up in her room forever, and eventually, she would have to interact with him. 

Rubbing her eyes, she stood up, her body still feeling a bit wobbly from the residual effects of last night. She padded over to her wardrobe and found a comfy oversized sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. Just as she was finishing zipping up the  sweatshirt, her door creaked open, and she heard Seungcheol’s voice. 

“Uh... hey, Y/n?” 

She froze, heart racing at the thought of confronting him after their embarrassing encounter. “Y-yeah?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. 

“I just wanted to check if you were okay. I heard you might have had a bit too much fun last night,” he said, his tone laced with gentle teasing but lacking the usual bravado. 

Y/n felt her cheeks warm again, but she twisted the moment into playful sarcasm. “Yeah, I clearly have my life together. Who wouldn’t want to walk into a bathroom with a half-naked guy?” 

His laughter echoed, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting a guest, either.”

“So, uh, thanks for... you know, taking care of me last night.”

“Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll help you with whatever.” 

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Yeah, but still! I really appreciate it.” 

Seungcheol’s smile faded slightly, replaced with an earnest expression as he leaned against the doorframe. “Y/n,It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it for years, I don’t mind.” 

She bit her lip, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach at the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity behind it. “For real, Cheol. Thanks. I mean it. Just accept the sincerity.” 

“Alright, alright,” he said, breaking the moment by giving her a grin, “Want to get some breakfast or something? I’ll whip us up something..” 

“That sounds great,” she agreed, “But, I actually have something I need to go do today. How about I see you later? A movie or something maybe?” 

“Yeah, you know where to find me.” 

“Of course.” 

If today was going to be the most awkward day of her life, fine. She could handle it. Now arming herself with coffee, she had the feeling it was going to turn out just fine.What started with a flustered memory could lead to deeper conversations, and maybe even something more. First she had to confront Alex about his infidelity and then she can go back to these thoughts. Still, she giggled to herself as she thought about it—this was definitely going to be a morning they’d both remember.

Y/n parked her car in front of Alex’s apartment complex, her whole drive here she made up fake conversations to have with him in her head some of her intrusive thoughts started to get to her as she imagined much more crazy ways of how to confront him, but she knew she’d cry. She knew how hard it would be for her no matter what his answer was, yes or no, but she had to do it. 

Somehow she knew either way that she may be grateful it gave her the courage to break up with him in general. 

Getting out of the car, Y/n felt a mix of determination and fear. The weight of unresolved emotions pressed down on her chest as her shoes tapped against the pavement. She took a moment to inhale deeply, trying to steal a bit of calm before walking through the threshold that would dictate the direction of her life. She climbed the few steps to Alex’s building and pressed the intercom buzzer.

After a few moments, a crackling voice came through. “Who is it?” 

“It’s Y/n,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Y/n? Oh, hey babe.! Come on up!” The excitement in his tone gave her a strange mix of hope and dread. Would he be as cheerful when they talked about the mess that had unfolded? 

When she reached his door, she hesitated, heart racing. Did she really want to do this? But even as the question surfaced, she felt the guilt gnawing at her. She owed it to herself.

Gathering her courage, she knocked. After a moment, the door swung open, and Alex stood there, looking casually handsome in a simple tee and jeans, a wide smile on his face. “Hey baby, It’s so good to see you. I thought you were hanging with your brother this weekend?” 

“Hey,” she replied, forcing a smile, even as her stomach churned. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah of course. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through. As she entered, a rush of familiarity enveloped her—his scent, the slight clutter that was reminiscent of their time together. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it ignited a sense of dread.

She followed him into the living room, where the remnants of his gaming session littered the floor. The sight pulled at her heartstrings—how many times had they shared moments in this space? But those memories felt crushed by the deceit that loomed over them now.

“Wanna drink something? I just made coffee.” he offered, heading toward the kitchen.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Y/n tucked her hair into the back of her sweatshirt, feeling uncharacteristically fidgety. “Alex, I really just need to talk.”

“What’s on your mind?” He settled onto the couch, beaming with an eagerness that pitted her stomach against her better instincts. 

She took a breath, the words sticking in her throat. “I... um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.” 

“Yeah? About what?” His expression shifted to curiosity, and she suspected he had no inkling of the storm about to descend.

“About us, about everything that’s happened,” she started, trying to gauge his reaction. His smile faltered just a bit, and her heart sank. “I found out about the other girl.”

His demeanor changed instantly. The confident glimmer in his eyes vanished, replaced by confusion. “Y/n, I—”

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, her tone firmer than she anticipated. She crossed her arms, drawing strength from her resolve. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I just need to know if you even care at all about what this does to our relationship.”

“I do care! I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He looked defensive, yet Y/n couldn't muster sympathy at this moment. 

“Didn’t mean for what to happen? To hurt me? To also keep her a secret?” Her voice was steady, but her chest tightened as emotions swelled within. “How many times did you lie to me? How can I trust anything you say now?”

“Y/n, please. It was a mistake. I never wanted to hurt you,” he pleaded, his expression shifting from confusion to desperation.

“And yet, here we are!” she raised her voice,, feeling the anger rise, mixed with a sorrow that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know if you understand how this makes me feel. I didn’t deserve to be anything less than faithful.”

“Oh and your brothers friend is jus-” 

“Shut up for one goddamn second.” 

Alex opened his mouth in surprise, as if he was about to argue, but Y/n pressed on, the truth spilling out. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that we could make it work, that you’d change. But the more I think about it, the more I realize—it’s not just a mistake. It’s a choice you made. You don’t actually love me enough to just be with me.” 

“Y/n...” he started, but she cut him off again, her gaze unwavering.

“It made me realize I deserve better  than what you’ve given me. I need to take care of myself.” 

An overwhelming silence consumed the room. Alex’s face hardened as he processed her words, the reality of what was happening sinking in. 

“I just... I thought we had something special,” he muttered, hurt flickering in his eyes. 

“We did,” she whispered, a pang of regret cutting through her. “But that’s the thing, Alex. You fucking ruined  it.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she squared her shoulders. “We have to break up.” 

“Y/n, wait. I can change. I swear! Just give me another chance! I’ll do better!” His plea hung in the air, desperately. 

But she knew better now. “I don’t think I can forgive you for this. And I don’t think I want to try. I need to move on and find myself again.”

She turned to leave, heart racing in her chest. As she reached for the doorknob, Alex’s voice caught her once more. “I wish you’d let me explain...”

She paused but didn’t turn around. “There’s nothing left to say, Alex.” 

With a shaky breath, she stepped outside, the cool air hitting her like a wave of clarity. Y/n stood for a moment on the threshold, allowing herself to breathe freely for the first time in weeks. 

As she walked down the stairs and toward her car, the weight of the conversation pressed upon her, but in a different way. It was a weight lifted.

She took out her phone and texted Seungcheol. “IT'S OVER, lol. Can we still do that movie later? I could really use a friend.”

Seconds later, her phone buzzed with his response. “What’s over? Did you break up with that fucker? Thank god. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

A smile broke through her earlier sorrow, and she felt the corners of her heart begin to heal just a little. She hadn’t expected this day to lead her in a new direction, but she was ready for whatever came next. One awkward day down, and the next chapter was waiting.

On her drive back y/n knew she shouldn’t be thinking about jumping into her relationship with Seuncheol now, but she also knew she wasted so much time with other jerks never giving him a chance, but it’s what she wanted she just had to figure out how to make it happen. 

She pulled into Seuncheol’s driveway, bag of snacks in hand. Shutting her car door with her backside, nearly skipping up to his front door where he stood waiting for her with open arms dressed in his pajamas. 

The sight of him, all cozy and relaxed, made her heart flutter. Seuncheol's smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help but return it as she stepped into his warm embrace. The delicious scent of something cooking wafted through the door behind him, complementing the warmth and comfort he radiated.

“Well, well, well, Miss. Bad Bitch,” he exclaimed, pulling away and taking her bag of snacks. “I hope you brought my favorites.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, her heart dancing at how effortlessly they fell into this easy banter. “How could I come empty-handed to thank my therapist?”

Seuncheol chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Good point. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Together they sorted through the assortment of chips, candies, and cookies, playfully debating over which treats deserved a spot on their makeshift movie night platter. As they settled onto the couch, their bodies nearly touching, she found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The earlier unease faded, replaced by a sense of belonging as she sank deeper next to him resting her head on his shoulder swinging around a piece of licorice. 

“Alright, so what are we watching?” he asked, remote in hand. 

She bit her lip thoughtfully, her heart racing at the idea of sharing this moment with him. “How about something fun? A rom-com?” 

“Only if you promise to laugh at all the cheesy parts,” he teased, nudging her playfully.

“How about a bet that whoever cries has to jump in your pool… naked,” she shot back with a smile, feeling a thrill in their playful exchange. The movie began, their laughter filling the space as they munched on snacks, but she felt the real chemistry sparking between them, the edges of her heart warming with every shared glance and gentle touch.

As the story unfolded on the screen, she caught herself stealing glances at him, his focus entirely on the film yet his presence enveloped her like a warm blanket. Somewhere between the jokes and the popcorn fights, the realization struck—this was the moment she had been waiting for, the feeling she had longed to explore. 

“Seuncheol,” she said softly, causing him to look over, pausing the movie. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you crying?” 

“Maybe.” 

“Wow. I win!” 

Seungcheol punched the air, getting up faster than he ever has, stripping off his hoodie and running out the patio door, y/n chasing behind him, knocking over the entire bowl of popcorn on her way out. 

As she turned the corner to go towards his pool he snatched her up, jumping in with her in his arms. 

The splash echoed through the night as the cool water enveloped them both. Seungcheol erupted in laughter, the sound bright and full of joy, while Y/N squealed in surprise, her heart racing from the sudden plunge. 

As they surfaced, water cascading off their faces, Y/N couldn't help but scold him playfully, “What the Fuck. You could have warned me!” Her hair clung to her face, and she was momentarily blinded, but the thrill of the moment overshadowed any annoyance.

Seungcheol flashed her a cheeky grin, droplets sparkling on his skin. “Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes mischievous, reflecting the moonlight. 

Y/N glared, though her heart was still light. “You’re such an asshole!” she laughed, splashing water back at him, her instincts taking over as they devolved into a playful water fight. He countered with playful throws of water, their laughter mingling in the cool night air—full of energy, warmth, and the promise of summer.

He was talking her through the water, pinning her against his bare chest, they both paused, breathless and giggling their legs brushing against each other as she caught her breath. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” she said softly, her voice playful yet carrying an underlying affection.

Seungcheol tilted his head, his smile softening. “Maybe. But this is way more fun than sitting inside watching movies.” He reached for her hair, swiping it out of her face, and for a moment, the world faded around them, he took a deep breath and kissed her, rummaging his hands under her sweatshirt which she reciprocated back, tugging at his waist band, dipping her cold fingers underneath to graze him slightly in an area they’ve never explored. 

“I’ve been thinking about us,” she confessed, the words tumbling out between their passionate kisses she couldn’t second-guess them. “I know this is sudden.. But, I.. uh.” she left a small whispering moan out of her lips, 

Kissing her deeply again smiling into it he just whispered, “But?” and then moved his lips to her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist. 

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. “But I want to give us a chance. I want to see where this could go. I’ve never trusted anyone more than you.” 

A  huge smile broke over his face, as he pulled away for just a moment, as if her words were a key that unlocked something deep within him. “Really? You mean it?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, her nerves calming under the intensity of his stare. “I do. I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been in love with you my whole life.” 

His eyes widened with surprise “You… you’ve loved me?” The words slipped from his lips, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment. 

“Yes,” she replied, her voice steady yet soft, the weight of her confession hanging between them like a fragile thread. “I never thought we’d get to this point, but here we are.” 

He leaned in closer again, his forehead resting against hers, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. “I never wanted to rush you,” he admitted. “I just didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. It’s like… you’ve always been the only person I’ve ever wanted.” 

Her heart swelled at his words, a sense of relief enveloping her like a warm blanket. “So what now?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with sincerity. 

“Now? We figure it out together.” His voice was low and confident, reassurance flooding her senses. He kissed her forehead gently before pulling back slightly, his hands still locking around her waist. “I want to take our time, get to know each other in this way. There’s no rush.” 

“Okay,” she murmured, the smile returning to her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his patient approach, how refreshing it felt to not be hurried into something that had the potential to change everything. 

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Just know that I’m all in.” 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, caught in the sincerity of his gaze. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words.” 

“And now that you have, what do you want to do first?” he asked, a twinkle of mischief sparking in his eyes. 

She grinned, feeling a rush of excitement flood through her. “How about we start with dinner? A proper date, just the two of us, to celebrate this… us. Build up even more sexual tension between us just to make it fun” 

“Dinner it is,” he said, already beaming. “And knowing you a bet to who would break first.” 

“My bets on you, Cheol. You’re a man.” 

“Sure, Bunny. But you did already have your hands down my pants, I’m thinking you’re already a failure. But, I’ll let it slide this time.” 

“Well I’ll try to control myself,” she replied, feeling a thrill of possibility unfolding before them. With newfound hope in her heart, she knew this was only the beginning.

[itssunshinetoday]

~ the boyfriend pictures series

boyfriend pictures

[ode2cheol]

SOULMATE LINK !

choi seungcheol x gn!reader, fluff, non idol college au

“cheol we’re not getting married because you saw a tiktok that our initials are soulmates”

“why not?” seungcheol whined from your side, presenting the candy ring to you once again, “it’ll be so fun!”

“we haven’t even graduated college yet..”

“okay and?” your boyfriend said exasperated, as if you were the one being ridiculous right now. “i think it’ll be a great idea”

you looked over at him, tracing your finger along his bottom lip that was jutting out in a pout. “i’m sure it will be.. in five years”

“five?!” seungcheol shot up, pulling himself from your touch to place both hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently to ‘get the crazy out of you’.

you giggled at his antics, pushing back his bangs to kiss his forehead. “yes, five” you cooed at his dejected pout, “what makes you want to get married so bad anyway?”

“haven’t you ever thought about how amazing it’d feel to be able to introduce each other like that? i mean i’ve definitely thought about it— and i’d like to think you’ve thought about introducing me as your husband” he fumbled over his last few words causing another smile to break at your face.

“i can’t wait to introduce you as my amazing, talented and spectacular husband” your heart melted at how he perked up at your words. “in five years of course” you laughed when he groaned.

[sweetiesicheng]

s.coups - hoodie

word count : 509

-

"hey, can i borrow something? i'm freezing in here," you ask your boyfriend, who is in the kitchen cooking.

"should i turn the heat up?" seungcheol asks you.

"no, you might get too hot. i just need something for a little bit," you reply.

"go into my closet. take whatever you want," he says to you. “

you get up from the table and immediately head into seungcheol's room. you open one of the closet doors and find a bunch of clothes hung up and folded. you start sifting through them and find a hoodie that you haven't seen seungcheol wear before. you take it off of its hanger and put it on. the material on the inside is really soft, making you instantly feel cozy.

"babe, i'm taking this one," you say to seungcheol as you leave his room and go back into the kitchen.

he turns back and smiles, "looks good on you," he says and turns back. "i just bought that one recently," he adds as you sit down at the table again.

"no wonder. i haven't seen this one before," you say to him. "it fits me pretty well," you say, noticing the smaller size.

"i think that company's sizes run a bit smaller," seungcheol replies and turns the stove off. "okay, food's done," he says and brings a pot to the table. he sets the pot on top of some old magazines.

"oh, sorry, i should help you," you apologize to him and try to stand up. however, seungcheol shakes his head.

"i got it. go ahead and eat," he says to you.

instead of eating right away, you wait for seungcheol to come back to the table. he grabs a few things from the fridge as well as some drinks.

"ooh, thank you," you say to him when he comes back to the table. he puts down everything and hands you a beer can, and you immediately pop the tab. "you know, because of you, i'll probably never have to buy another hoodie."

"that's a complete lie."

"okay...it is, but i have like five of your hoodies already! and we've been dating for five months now. it's like i'm taking one a month," you say to him.

he smiles, "i don't mind though. you look cute in them."

"and next thing i know, i'm going to have a closet full of just your hoodies."

seungcheol grabs his beer and takes a sip. “and? what's wrong with that?" he asks.

"i have enough clothes as it is," you say to him.

"baby, i'd buy you a whole closet of my clothes for you to keep if you'd let me," he admits. "we can go through what i have after dinner."

"i'm going to fight you."

"yea, i'd like to see you try."

—

"so do you want this one too? how about this one?"

"babe, i’m going to have to sell all of my hoodies at my place if you give me all of these.”

“good, gives me more reason to buy more for you.”

[joonsytip]

Withering for You || Seungcheol - Epilogue

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): tears, profanities, everyone is hurt and sad, mention of alcohol consumption, lovesickness, healing, friendly threats, suggestive

Word Count: 5.7k

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

You're enjoying the peace and calmness that moving to a different country has brought within. It has been half a year since your divorce with Seungcheol had been settled, been four months of you making a decision seemingly best for you by moving out.

Both you and Seungkwan had wanted to open several branches of your academy all around the world because you both believed that music transcends barriers and connects souls.

Though your motive while shifting was a break from everything but it also resoluted to build another branch rooted to Melodease.

You are busy nowadays, given you've to overlook the purchase and legal matters, start taking care of the design, contract and staffing. Seungkwan has offered to come over and share the workload but you're always the one to brush it off. Because keeping yourself busy is the only way to not overthink about that one person whom you wanted to spend the rest of life but apparently it was too much of an ask.

The divorce, you had tried everything to withdraw it but you should have known, it was Seungcheol who wanted for it to happen at any cost. So eventually you succumbed to his stubbornness. He wasn't even willing to face you, making it impossible for you to reach out to him so you couldn't quite recollect when was the last time you saw him. All you could remember is he never again made an eye contact with you, since he left your house that fateful night.

A rift has been created between you and your friends. You were so mad at all of them for making Seungcheol aware of the bitter past that you've been hiding. They got earfuls from you whenever they breathed in your direction. You had stopped humouring them, even going as far as to inform them about your departure just two days before. A huge fuss was caused by Mingyu and Eunsoo while Seungkwan and Wonwoo blamed themselves quietly.

When Wonwoo had arrived at your doorstep the night before your departure to apologise and ask you to reconsider your decision, you in turn had assigned him a task which you couldn't do yourself.

Your parents visit you from time to time and it's your brother who crashes at your place the most because though everyone hesitates, he's the only one who doesn't lend an ear to your protests.

"It's been half a year, don't you think you should let loose and forgive those four.", Chan voices out distressed as he once again sees the string of texts and voice messages he received in the group chat he was suddenly added to one day just so your friends could get updates of you.

"You don't understand Chan. It was not their decision to make. You don't think I could have told Seungcheol if I wanted to?", you sit down frowning, "We did end up getting divorced after all. And even though I'd have dealt with my career, I don't know how he is doing on his own because now he would neither even confide in his family and nor he has many friends. It has become a fight against his family, against the people he cherished the most."

Chan understands your friends but most importantly he understands you, he nods and sighs, "There's something I haven't told you."

"Did Seungcheol come and apologize to you, mom and dad after I left?", you say giving a small smile.

Chan is flabbergasted, "How did you know?"

"I just guessed. I knew he'd come someday, it's only after I left. Wish I could have just gotten a glimpse of him before coming here. Why do I miss him?", you say suddenly fanning your face and look up trying to blink away the tears. Chan observes you silently.

Your heart still beats for Seungcheol.

Seungcheol rubs the wedding band which sits on his finger, lost in thoughts he then proceeds to caress the other wedding band the one he wears in a chain, which is also yours.

In the last few months, he solely focused on destroying Jiah. He went on to dig her past and accumulate every malicious deed, hurtful comments or poor gestures done by her throughout her life including all her flings. If it would have been earlier he would have had a hard time believing it all but not anymore. After gathering every possible bit, he made his PR team to work overtime to destroy her image. Each day new articles would resurface by random journalists on several platforms.

"I'm sorry, Cheol", Jiah cries at his feet, hands clasped, begging, "Please please just stop, I'm ruined."

Seungcheol laughs completely apathetic, "This has just begun. I'll bring you on the streets. I make you cry tears of blood."

Jiah looks him at horrified, "I'm begging you, we are best friends Cheol--"

Seungcheol burns at her words, "Since you showed me how best of a friend you are, it's my turn to show how great I can be. I won't stop until you dread hearing my name, until you regret what you've done. Hell, you've just heard of it, I'll make you live in it."

"I'll do anything you want, I'll apologise to Y/N please spare me.", Jiah continues to beg.

"Don't you dare utter her name with your filthy mouth. For the tears you made her cry, I'll make you cry tenfold. If you think there's gonna be an end to it, no, you'd suffer till your consciousness stays with you."

Then he makes the security drag her out of the building, onto the road.

Using her now completely ruined image, he pulled all cards to ruin off her father's company. Though he felt bad for her parents but they should have raised their daughter well and since they didn't it fell on their plate as well. That's what he had said to her father when he had the business go bankrupt.

Seungcheol doesn't stop here, he's still finding ways to put Jiah behind the bars, and if concrete proof doesn't knock on his door, he has his mind set on creating a whole new room of miseries for his said best friend.

But nothing he does gives him a sense of fulfillment. He's empty, heartbroken and a looser in love. Every time he remembers the way he had treated you, the schemes he had plotted against you, the venomous words he had said to you and the hatred he harboured towards you, they make him wanna disappear from the face of earth.

His parents don't get to see him, there's no monthly family dinner at the Choi's anymore.

Seungcheol who wanted to have you as his in all of the lifetimes, doesn't dare to make such a wish anymore. He has failed you, so he accepts the fact that you deserve the best. Someone who's not him. Someone who gives you all the smiles and none of the tears.

The wedding gown which you left untouched in his closet when you had moved out, Seungcheol walks in every night just to hold the garment. He imagines you in it and hugs it to his chest pouring his heart out. Each night  the empty house echoes his cries. The composition you had gifted him on his birthday, he plays it everyday while reminiscing the times he has got to spend with you.

His heart only beats for you.

"You are in love with your ex husband who's in love with you as well? I still don't get why you both are divorced."

You roll your eyes and walk past Jihoon who doesn't bother to follow behind because you'd be able to hear him anyways.

"Make it make sense, from what I heard...", his brows quirk up and nods at himself, "The bigshot Choi Seungcheol is being unnecessarily dramatic when you both can now live happily ever after."

You throw him a glare, "Don't you dare call him dramatic. He's in a rough spot and going through hell. But since he's stubborn and won't listen to anyone, we'll both keep wallowing in pity."

Jihoon gives you a look, "At least you're sensible. Anyways, you'd always see a DND board on my cabin's door. So please don't hesitate to get lost and not show your face to me."

You're neither surprised nor disappointed.

Lee Jihoon is a prodigal producer who's renowned around the world for his compositions. He can play every instrument in and out (claimed by people) specialising in Violin. You and Seungkwan had been eyeing him since long for managing your academy and it took you a lot of effort and determination to be able to rope him in. The man is always snappy and unfiltered. He knows he ain't people pleaser thus, he likes his space and doesn't allow interference. You just have to trust and leave the rest up to him and it'll be all taken care of.

Surprisingly, he knew you as well and though he would never admit, you're guessing the only reason he agreed to manage the new branch because as an artist he felt violated with your supposed plagiarism case. That he empathizes with you.

You don't usually go around sharing your personal life with everyone but with Jihoon it came in candid. Gradually, he came to know about you and you about him. The man is a feline who can differentiate good from bad. So after pulling many late nights and over many drinks, you both have become comfortable with each other. So comfortable that he treats you as his errand woman and every time you dare to protest he threatens to breach the contract because as he brags he has money. That annoying mf--

Jihoon knows he shouldn't be nosy but also he couldn't turn a blind eye to how you cry every time you get wasted. How whenever you bring up your husband there's an abyss of longing in your eyes. Though you're diligent and pushing yourself hard, your mind always reels back to him.

"It's your birthday next week, what do you want?", Jihoon asks and tuts instantly, "Except for Seungcheol, I can't give you him."

"Nothing.", you state blatantly, "Just stay with the academy."

"Nevermind, trying to give you Seungcheol sounds easier.", Jihoon jokes and the cushion he receives on his face isn't uncalled for.

Nobody is as distressed as Mingyu. He hasn't seen you in months, you don't talk to him like before. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have involved himself in your matters when he knew why you tried so hard to cover the truth. He regrets urging Eunsoo to confess to Wonwoo because even though she presses that she's fine and masters at hiding her feelings whenever in the same room as Wonwoo, he knows she isn't exactly doing well. It's been quite a time and neither you nor Eunsoo are doing well. Not like Wonwoo or Seungcheol are doing any better.

So he thinks it's only the doable, he needs to take the matters into his hands, if not alone atleast with Chan and Seungkwan. It might try to fix things one last time, with no expectations, no agendas of his own.

When Chan asked Mingyu to accompany him somewhere, he found it odd but agreed nonetheless.

His face changes when he finds himself infront of Seungcheol's house.

"If you see any tendencies of violence in my speech or body language just hold me back. I don't wanna beat Seungcheol but actually I do wanna beat him.", Chan says as they enter the house.

Mingyu is already breaking in cold sweat and the only accountable relief is Wonwoo's presence. When they see Seungcheol, both Chan and Mingyu are shocked at his state. He looks sick and tired.

"Are you okay?", Mingyu asks and Seungcheol nods. That's when his eyes falls behind and he sees the large wedding picture frame hung on the wall. His eyes linger further and he sees how on every wall there are pictures of you, or you and him.

Chan witnesses that Seungcheol's doing as bad as you, maybe worse. Seungcheol has not been able to meet his eyes since he knew about the past like now, his eyes are down in shame.

"Look at me", Chan says calmly, "You don't have to be ashamed of something you have never taken part in."

"But my father did.", Seungcheol whispers, "I can't forgive myself about how I treated you all and her when all you did was protect me."

"You are not doing fine neither she is.", Mingyu adds, "What's the point of seperation when you both love each other?"

"She cries everyday because of you. Regrets wanting to be selfish and marry you because you're suffering. She blames herself for everything to the point that she isolated herself from her family, friends and her academy. She's alone off to a faraway place where if an emergency occurs the fastest we can get to her would be after a 10 hour journey.", Chan doesn't usually breaks but his voice cracks, "It's so hard to see her being hard on herself. The breakup in the past must have been hard on you, but for her it was worst. I shouldn't be disclosing this but it took her a lot of therapy sessions to get out of depression. It was arduous for all of us because as you know she's the life of our family, the academy and her friends circle."

Seungcheol listens to your brother wide, teary eyed. He feels as if he's in a whirlwind.

"When I don't have any grudge against you, Y/N wants to be with you the why are you making all of our lives miserable?", Chan speaks with frustration, "You still have chamce to make things right. Don't choose to be a victim to the circumstances once again and let the love of your life go. You both have defied the odds and been together so why complicate things when there could be happily ever after waiting for you both."

"Do I deserve--"

Seungcheol haults in track, scared when he sees Mingyu seething and fisting his hands.

"Stop being a crybaby and own up. You caused a lot of damage to Y/N and you should make it up to her.", Mingyu says through his gritted teeth, "Stop trying to run away. That woman has been suffering for years just because of your family and you. She's a saint for being so understanding and patient, always putting everyone above herself. Though she'd never admit, we all know that she went away just not to be a bother for anyone, specially you. I'll beat you to a pulp if you suck up one more time. Fucking coward!"

Tables turned, now it's Chan and Wonwoo who are holding Mingyu back because Mingyu himself has the patience of Saint so when he gets worked up, things get out of control.

In the midst of all this, Mingyu throws a glare at Wonwoo as well and that's when the later unhands him and steps back.

"Do you lack common sense? What's the point of hanging her pictures and playing her compositions when after all this, she's waiting with her hands open but you won't go.", Mingyu keeps on scolding, "Why do we have to come and speak sense into your mind when you're an adult with much developed brain, developed enough to plot things to ruin someone's career?"

Six pairs of wide eyes falls on Mingyu. Seungcheol thinks hell has come in form of the buff guy infront of him. Chan thinks it's so cool of the same buff guy. Wonwoo thinks in near future he'll be facing the same fate as Seungcheol's facing today.

When Chan and Mingyu leave, Wonwoo stays behind. He quietly places a box on the table.

Before Seungcheol could enquire, he answers, "Y/N had requested me to give you this box on her birthday. Though I don't know what it contains but I do have a feeling that there won't be any more appropriate time to hand this over. I should have given it to you earlier."

After Wonwoo leaves, Seungcheol exhales sharply as his hands gently caress the box and carefully opens it.

There's a letter that sits atop. He opens the thread tied around it and starts reading.

Hey Cherry,

I couldn't help but call you that, sorry if it made you uncomfortable. If you're reading this, then it's probably my birthday today. I'll make my birthday wishes later but here's a return gift for you. This box is an ode to you, to commemorate your love because enough we didn't get our happy ending, I could live the rest of my life reminiscing the moments we spent, the love we shared together.

Now let me show you what our love meant through my eyes. There should be a sweater inside the box, take that out.

Seungcheol immediately takes out the red crochet sweater and traces over the garment and the wordings on it. He then goes back reading the letter.

Remember when we were dating, I had grown an interest on crocheting and took classes. I had woven this sweater for you. It says "Mon Amour", which means my love in French another outcome of the music lessons I was taking from the French teacher. Never got a chance to give you this and now that you've grown big muscles, it won't fit you. You can give it or throw it.

Now you'd see a pile of vinyls. Since you've always encouraged me to pursue my passion, you became the source of my inspiration. There are 26 vinyls and each of those compositions were inspired by you. Some were composed when we were dating, some after our breakup, throughout the span of seven years and some while we were still married. I thought of returning these to their owner in true sense. These came straight out of my vault. You can keep them or burn all of them.

Seungcheol takes out the vinyls and rearranges all of them in the order of the dates written on them. He notices each Vinyl cover had a colour of it's own and each one was addressed to his name in your handwriting.

You've always loved Tulips. Remember each time I bought you those, how you'd end up getting sad because they'd wilt? So I gathered every colour I could and preserved it for you. There's a flap in which I've kept the Tulips. Don't get sad anymore, they'll stay with you now.

The rest are random things I had brought on whim either because I thought you'd like them or it reminded me of you and they may not make any sense to you.

Seungcheol notices the spilled ink in many places, blurring the words, as the letter reaches it's end because of the tears those fell down while you wrote the letter.

Nostalgic isn't it? So now that we're closing in, I'd like to say a few things to you. I don't blame you for happened in the past, nor does my family. As things turned out, we didn't end up together. But I don't want you to become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere. Let's not be that (only if you're comfortable enough to acknowledge me if we ever cross paths again).

As I said, even though it's my birthday I'll make a wish for you, make sure to fulfil it. Not request but it's a demand from your ex-wife. I wish you would move on from all the sufferings and pain. You should move on from me, from us. I wish for you to fall in love again with someone who'd keep you happy and bring back the liveliness in you. I admit it would hurt me, a lot but it'd mean nothing if you'd be well.

Never hesitate to come and find me, even if it's just for a brief moment. I'm always available for you. Also, just to remind you, don't you feel lonely, remember my friends are yours as well. Do disturb them at your will, most they'll do is throw tantrums but they're nice I promise. I love you, will always do. But you, move on okay? So that's all I guess. Sorry took too much of your time. Take care of yourself.

From,

Your Cherry (for one last time, promise)

Seungcheol is bawling his eyes out, screaming in pain as he reads your letter again and again, occasionally holding it close to his chest.

There's only one question that reels in his mind. How could you love him so selflessly?

You didn't expect much on your birthday but with all your friends and family travelling hours long, jamming up your place just to celebrate your day, it feels nice.

"Jihoon arranged the cake, but since Y/N wanted the party to be held in here he cancelled the venue.", Seungkwan states as a matter of fact, "Thank God, he's here otherwise my lifeline would have receded to half worrying about her."

All of your friends look at you happily chatting with your parents.

"Thanks Jihoon.", Eunsoo expresses her sincere gratitude, "I'm so relieved that she has you. She still hasn't forgiven us and knowing how private she tends to be, it's nice that she at least has you."

"We all feel the same.", Wonwoo assures and Eunsoo side eyes him as she shifts further away from him, changing seats.

Jihoon smiles genuinely, "Y/N is a great person to have around you so gradually you'd be willing to reciprocate the efforts."

"Good things, happen to good people but why is she suffering?", Mingyu sighs, chugging the can of bear, "She says she's mad at me, but she bought me my favourite limited edition watch when I was still recovering from the ligament injury."

"Yeah same, she checks on me throughout the day and night whenever I am going through a rough patch.", Eunsoo adds, "Even asked me to come and stay with her to take my mind off", she looks at Wonwoo, "things."

"Yeah, we may not always talk like we did before but she still cares the same.", Seungkwan says, "It's her nature, she can't do anything about it."

"Something good should happen to her soon.", Jihoon implies as he twirls the can in his hands.

The night goes on with you spending time with your dearest ones and catching up with everyone.

"Thanks for coming everyone.", you say making a toast, "I haven't felt this good lately. Y'all made my day really special."

At some point it's a mess, you're chasing Mingyu, who's screaming for his life because he smashed a big chunk of cake on your face. Eunsoo is eating off Jihoon's ears because she wants to hear him play Violin. Wonwoo doesn't like it a bit but there's nothing he can do apart from glaring at Jihoon. Seungkwan and Chan are debating over something useless, everyone is sure that next they're gonna fight each other to impose their point. Your parents look at all of you with a fond smile on their faces.

It's an hour till midnight when everyone decides to leave for the hotel they've been staying in. Though your friends and brother offer you help but you send them all away knowing they're still tired from such long journey.

You clean up the place and check the time before jogging down to throw the Dustin bags. All you could think of was if Seungcheol had read your letter. Doesn't matter if not today, as long as he reads it, any day is fine.

It's chilly outside as the full moon shines brightly. You stand outside not entering the gate and close your eyes to feel the breeze. It's calming, you think.

When you open your eyes after staying out for good amount of time, you think you had drunk a little too much.

"I shouldn't have drunk so much, now I'm seeing you.", you shake your head, slap your cheeks and look ahead again, "Why are you still here? Just vanish.', then you turn back to go inside the house.

"Y/N..."

You halt and say, "Now I'm hearing things also, great."

Suddenly you're being back hugged, "You're not hallucinating.", that's when you freeze, realisation gnawing on you.

Seungcheol has really come, he's physically present.

"W-What are you doing here?", you asked in your choked voice.

"I think we should have this conversation inside, only if you'll allow me to.", Seungcheol says and loosens his grip.

"Y-Yeah sure.", you don't look back, at him and walk straight into the house with him following you.

As Seungcheol takes a seat, you kick away the balloons, "Sorry, it's a mess right now.", and you flee to the kitchen to bring some slices of cake, "Have them, it's your favourite flavour."

"Happy Birthday, Y/N", he wishes you, taking the plate and you smile at him fondly.

"Have you eaten dinner?", you ask him and he shakes his head, "Came here straight from the airport."

While he eats the cake, you serve him all the dishes saying, "You should have told me that you'd come. I would have waited and we could have had the dinner together."

Seungcheol looks at you, wordless. So do you, observe him, the black hair that falls on his forehead, thick eyebrows, his brown orbs, dimpled cheeks, the small nose and stubbled chin, all of it. There's a soothing silence and you don't wanna break it.

"Y/N, there's a reason to why I came today."

You are calm, willing to listen to anything he has to offer because nothing worse can happen than what has already happened.

"I am not well without you.", he gives a small smile not meeting your gaze, "People are saying I look like a ghost nowadays, you can see it as well.", there's a pause before he looks at you and continues, "Your friends and brother have been trying hard to speak some senses into my mind. And I received the box you left for me, last week."

"But you were supposed to receive it today", you say calmly, "If my friends and family are pestering you, I'm sorry. I'd tell them to stop."

Seungcheol chuckles, shaking his head. He grabs both of your hands, "The problem isn't about me being unwell without you. The problem lies with you being more heartbroken and pained without me. You have suffered enough, you shouldn't be suffering anymore."

His hands trail gently upto your face, "And I'm here today to solve that."

You habitually lean into his touch, "Don't say something that would break my heart again, on my birthday."

"I know even without trying or repenting if I ask you to take me back, you'd do it in a heartbeat.", tears prick at his eyes as he speaks, "And now that there're no more secrets, though it's selfish of me but I want us to be together again, to live and to love forever. I want to love you right, treat you like you deserve to be treated."

You break down in tears, hiding your face in your palms, sobbing as you say, "This feels unreal. What if I'm dreaming and you'd be gone when I wake up?"

Seungcheol sniffles as he hugs you tightly, "I'm here, love. I won't go anywhere, I promise."

You snuggle closer to him, he embraces you tighter.

There are few taps on your back and you pull back only to Seungcheol making you stand up. You eyes questions him as he pecks your forehead quickly and kneels on his left knee.

Your eyes go wide as saucers as you watch him unfasten his chain and take out the ring, which you recognise is yours. He holds the ring saying, "I want to spend all of my tomorrows with you because you taught me the real meaning of love. Would you please with cherries on top, marry me?"

Not trusting your voice and with a frantic nod of head, you extend your hand towards him, onto which Seungcheol slides in the ring. You put the other ring on his finger and pull him into a fervent kiss.

Before he could take you to the bed and have you, you're pushing him away, "You haven't eaten, dinner first."

Seungcheol groans, his lips finding it's way back on your neck as he whispers, "I wanna eat you out. You're my meal, you're my dessert to devour."

You give up knowing, he's not going to listen because he's stripping you down to nothing, kissing and sucking everywhere.

"I love you, love you so much.", he keeps on murmuring, "You're mine, only mine."

Carrying you inside, he slams the bedroom door shut. All you could remember is his name and the way he worked on your whole body diligently through the night, till the morning.

"I wanna meet Lee Jihoon.", Seungcheol says during lunch, because that's when you both finally left the bed after long long sessions of love making.

But he makes you sit on his lap, "Because along with the plane ticket that I found on my office table, he had sent a card with the instructions to give it to you."

He takes out the card from his coat which was hung on the chair and gives it to you.

'Here's your birthday gift, Y/N. Told ya, giving you Seungcheol would be much easier.'

You are grinning ear to ear, "Definitely, he seems snappy but is actually quite a nice guy."

Seungcheol gulps when he remembers the other note which contained nothing but the pure threat of kidnapping, smuggling and dumping him to your house if he doesn't come here voluntarily, "Y-Yeah sure, he must be a nice guy..."

The nation is in uproar because it was such a sight to see Choi Seungcheol carrying his ex-wife in bridal style, smooching her throughout, in front of the media, till they're seen out of the airport.

Another shock comes from the musical prodigy, Lee Jihoon who returns to his roots posing as a bodyguard to the couple.

The media doesn't get to rest when a month later, both the Choi's and Lee's publish articles about your wedding to Seungcheol along with some glamourous shots from the private wedding that took place with limited guests consisting mostly closed friends and family.

Some are confused, some are shocked but more or less everyone is curious. No matter how hard the paparazzi are trying they're unable to pull tabs on what actually happened. You both are the trending topic and though all tabloids are based on pure speculations, it also shows the upper hand The Choi's have on protecting their matters.

"I have the sent the data as an anonymous to the police.", Wonwoo informs, "I'm sure it'll be concrete enough to put Jiah behind the bars."

"Great.", Seungcheol smiles, "Keep on digging, make sure once she's in, she never gets out of the prison."

Wonwoo gives a nod and leaves.

"Are you sure he like Eunsoo back?", Seungcheol turns to ask you.

"You should notice how stone cold poker faced Wonwoo starts to show emotions whenever he sees Eunsoo with Jihoon. I have caught him stealing glances at our Soo as well.", you sigh, "I know it must be hard for him, but I wish he could just be honest with his feelings."

"I'll talk to him", Seungcheol assures and as if a switch flips he pouts saying, "Why'd you have to go? We just got married."

"I'll have to look over the academy until it's fully functional.", you tell him, "Jihoon can take over after that but till then I'll have keep going back and forth. But hey, I'll be here for a month before I go, let's utilize it to the fullest."

"Of course, baby. Don't worry I'll manage my schedule so that I can be there with you for most of the time.", he pecks your lips, "I'm so proud of you. I love you."

"Love you too, Cherry.", you smile looking at him.

"Let's plan for our honeymoon--"

"Cheol, I was thinking that...", your lips purse into a line, "instead of touring, can we spend some time alone without work, just the two of us, somewhere cozy. Only if you're okay with it, I know you're busy and to take time completely off--"

You're cut off by his lips on yours. He kisses you for a good amount of time and says, "If you want it then I'll manage. Anything for you baby."

You smile pushing him away, "You're down bad.", ypj tease, "I'll have to drop by the academy, Seungkwan is waiting."

"I'll take you.", Seungcheol gets up grabbing the car keys, "I'm sure everyone is there specially Jihoon, I'm a fan."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah everyone is saying so but he's a plain pain in ass to me. Let's take Wonwoo with us.", grabbing your clutch, "I'm planning to visit Wonseok, let's go together this weekend. Also, I've informed Ms. Oh that we'd be eating out tonight."

As Seungcheol drives, your mind reels back to everything that happened over the month. Your husband proposing to you, you coming back and accepting things with his parents as they offer their earnest apologies. Though Seungcheol is still not on talking terms with them and you're yet to entirely let go of what they've done, you think time will mend the relationships.

Getting married again but this time just out of pure love. Discussions about having family, bearing his children in future comes often and you don't miss the gleam in your husband's eyes when you both talk over it casually nowadays, him always assuring that he's ready whenever you're ready. Your friends now becoming more of Seungcheol's group as they pick each other's habit and throw unfiltered banter, Jihoon included.

If years of suffering have led you to witness these days then you're content because it's all worth it.

Even though Seungcheol is engaged in a conversation with the group, he sweeps a quick glance at you, smiling fondly and mouthing a 'I Love you' before diving back just to sulk at something Mingyu claimed.

You say those words right back to him in your heart, a thousand times more as you make a wish you have him as yours in all lifetimes.

To be fully seen by somebody and be loved anyhow is a human offering that can border on miraculous. Having withered for each other and falling back in love, lucky you both to be spending the rest of your lives together.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

[kooqitas]

have you ever tried this one? - svt hiphop unit fav positions 🔞

★ m.list | inbox

scoups: all fours/dog style

cheol loves to fuck you anyway, but when you put your face in the pillow and stick your ass up as much as you can he fucks you like an animal, spanks your ass calling you a whore, pushes your head even further against the pillow, suffocating you there, and then pulls your hair hard. he likes to see you grabbing the sheets while you moan his name, he likes to bring his mouth close to your ear just to whisper that he's going to make you leak his cum.

wonwoo: sideways

they say that to fuck sideways you need to have a big dick, and well... wonwoo has that, he loves to fuck you sideways, feel your whole ass glued to him while he thrusts you faster and harder, he always alternates what to do with his hands, sometimes he plays with your nipple, sometimes he touches your clit, sometimes he chokes you and sometimes he puts some fingers in your mouth for you to choke, and every time you cum screaming his name, cum hard while he calls you a 'dumb bitch'.

vernon: ride

hansol is always in control of the situation, except when you're on top of him, the man seems to lose all and any sense when you ride him, he never knows whether to grab you and encourage you to go faster and harder or just let you have fun on his cock, fuck, he cums so fast in this position that it's pathetic, but damn, he can't resist seeing your tits bouncing in front of him while you moan like a slut, and you also cum embarrassingly fast, feeling how completely desperate vernon is with your pussy

mingyu: standing

mingyu doesn't go to the gym for nothing, damn what he likes to do most is to hold you in his arms while he fucks you, without the support of the wall, without the support of a table, chair, or anything, he likes to see you completely held by him, the way his arms move along with his big dick to go deeper and deeper, you always see stars when this happens, mingyu using all his strength just to eat you, making a point of saying all the time how much he's opening you, how deep he's going, that he's going to destroy your pussy, damn, mingyu is insane...

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[hoshifighting]

   bsf!seungcheol watching you ride a dildo

— where your bestfriend!seungcheol wants his shirt back, but he searches for it inside the wrong drawer.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, sex toys, ''cock'' riding, clit stimulation, lub, voyeurism?, fingering, penetrative sex, reader feels the ''real thing'' after, dildo sucking, dirty talk, choking, overwhelming.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

“yo, y/n, where’s that shirt i left at yours the other day? the black one, with the holes,” seungcheol’s voice booms from your bedroom, and you can hear him already rummaging through your wardrobe like it’s his own. typical. you’re still in the bathroom, pulling a shirt over your head, eyes rolling at how this guy feels so at home in your space, no hesitation.

“it’s in the drawer, you dumbass,” you yell back, adjusting your shirt in the mirror, not giving it a second thought.

and then it hits you.

oh fuck. that drawer. the one you’ve recently swapped out for all your, uh, extra stuff. your eyes widen, and a bolt of panic shoots through your veins. not the t-shirts and gym clothes drawer anymore, no—your sex drawer now, fully stocked and thriving.

you bolt out of the bathroom, hair still a mess, nearly tripping over your own feet, “seungcheol, no! wait—”

too late. he’s standing there, drawer halfway open, a look of pure shock frozen on his face. it’s like time slows down and you can almost hear the dramatic, “dun-dun-dunnnn” playing in the background as his eyes lock on something you really didn’t want him to see.

the dildo. baby pink. glittery. silicone, with a ridiculously realistic head.

“what... the… fuck,” he mumbles, staring at it like it’s an alien. his hand’s on the drawer handle, and he’s so still, like he can’t quite process what’s in front of him. if it was just the lube, or even the handcuffs, maybe you could’ve salvaged this situation. maybe. but nope, he’s standing there like he’s seen the holy grail, except it’s your new glitter dildo, glistening under the light like a perverse disco ball.

you skid to a stop, face burning up. “cheol, no—don't—” but he’s already got it in his hand, holding it up like it’s some kind of trophy. a fucking trophy.

he gives it a little shake, slapping it against his palm with a dumb grin. “y/n… never pegged you for a glitter girl. this—” he waves it around, the thing jiggling like some obscene party favor. “—is this what you’re into now? pink, sparkly dicks?”

you slap your hand over your face, mortified, “it’s new! i—it’s not even—i haven’t—just give it back, jesus christ!”

but he’s inspecting it now, like he’s doing some kind of in-depth analysis. his eyebrows raise, and he looks from it to you, back to it. “it’s not that big, though, right? not thicker than me, at least.” he looks way too smug for your liking, like he’s just cracked some inside joke.

“cheol!” you squeal, lunging forward to grab it, but he pulls it out of reach, shaking his head like you’re a kid trying to snatch candy from a shelf.

“nah, nah,” he chuckles, “hold up, hold up. i just… i just didn’t expect this from you. like, c’mon, this? you could’ve called me. i would’ve come running, y’know. no need to settle for this sparkly piece of shit.”

you’re fully red now, your fingers gripping his forearm as you try and close the drawer with your hip, but he keeps it open, the dildo still in his grip. “cheol, i swear to god, give it back.”

he twirls it like it’s a damn baton, slapping it lightly against his hand again. “so, like... is it better than the real thing? huh?”

“no, oh my god, no! i haven’t even—just—shut up!” you try again to snatch it back, but he’s stronger than you and absolutely milking this moment.

“mmm,” he hums, biting the inside of his cheek like he’s deep in thought, “i bet you’ve been riding this thing at night, hm? fuckin’ bouncing on it, lights out, all alone in this big-ass bed…” his words trail off, teasing, and you want to crawl into a hole and die, right there.

“cheol, stop, i’m not—i haven’t even used it yet, okay?” you sputter, still trying to grab it, but your words only seem to encourage him.

“oh? you haven’t? huh… well,” he holds it up, wiggling it under the light, “why don’t you show me how you would? like, y’know, ride it for me.” the way he says it, dead serious, makes you stop. his voice drops lower, and suddenly the room feels hotter. “c’mon, y/n. don’t be shy. give me a little demo.”

“cheol, stop it. i’m already embarrassed enough,” you say, feeling your breath catch in your throat. your cheeks burn. he just grins, settling back into the chair at your vanity, his eyes practically glinting.

“don’t be shy now,” he says, but you can hear the tease dripping from every word. his back rests against the wall, arms lazily crossed, as if he’s got all the time in the world to watch you squirm. you can’t even deny the flutter of heat that’s been coiling inside you since this whole thing started.

you let out a shaky breath, reaching for the lube, the sound of the cap clicking open feeling way too loud in the stillness of the room. you get on your knees, your fingers tremble as you coat the bottom of the dildo with it, sticking it to the floor, the suction strong as it holds in place. every nerve in your body is hyper-aware of his eyes on you. watching. waiting.

you slowly tug down your shorts and panties, trying to shield yourself as much as possible, your oversized shirt covering your lower half. it’s stupid to feel shy now, considering what you’re about to do, but you still shake your head when he says, “take that shirt off too.”

“n-no,” you stutter, cheeks flushing. you glance at him through your lashes as you start to spread the lube on the dildo, your hand sliding up and down, coating it thoroughly. the way you grip it, the slow strokes—it’s almost automatic, the sight of it in your hand makes his jaw clench, and you can practically hear his breath catch.

he shifts in his seat, eyes glued to the movement of your hand. he swallows thickly, his gaze darkening, and you can see the tension building in his body. it’s not just teasing anymore—he’s feeling this, just as much as you are.

“fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his eyes not leaving the way your hand moves, the way the lube makes the dildo glisten. for a split second, it’s like he can’t even blink, like if he does, he might miss something.

you feel your body flush even more, and you bite your lip as you spread your legs slightly, reaching down with your lubed-up fingers to ease yourself open. “look away for a sec,” you mumble.

he scoffs, eyes narrowing, but he closes them. still, you know better than to think he’s not peeking—there’s no way he’s fully shutting you out. and sure enough, you catch him with one eye cracked open, watching, his arms crossed over his chest trying to look calm and shit, but his body clearly stiffen up. the slick sounds of your fingers working you open fill the air, and you can’t help the small whimpers that escape your lips. each one seems to hit him like a punch, his eyes flickering, the sound driving him crazy.

you can feel your own wetness mixing with the lube as you stretch yourself, prepping so you can sit on it. your breath hitches as you pull your hand away, finally sitting back up on your knees. “i’m gonna… i’m sliding on it now,” you whisper, like saying it aloud makes it even more real.

his—both—eyes snap open at that, and he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, staring hard. “yeah? let me see,” oh, he had his soothed voice, and you can feel the his gaze on you.

your body trembles as you line yourself up, one hand braced on the floor in front of you for support as the other lined the toy. the first contact makes you bite your bottom lip, your pussy lips parting as you sink down, the head of the dildo stretching you slowly. you let out a soft moan, your body reacting to the stretch, the feel of the silicone sliding inside.

“shit,” you breathe out, your head falling forward as you lower yourself further, taking more of it in—the cool, smooth silicone pushing into you, the lube making everything slick and easy. the way it presses against your inner walls has you clenching around it, your muscles pulsing as you adjust.

you can feel seungcheol’s eyes on you, locked onto the way your body reacts, the small tremors running through you. his fingers twitch, his hands squeezing each other so tightly you swear his knuckles are turning almost purple.

he’s almost breathless from just watching. you feel so full, the stretch making your hips shake as you rock slightly, sliding the dildo deeper inside. the pressure builds as your pussy hugs the toy, the texture of it rubbing against you in all the right places.

your shirt brushes against the floor as you lean forward, hips grinding down, taking the dildo all the way in. your hand clutches the floor for balance, the other gripping your thigh as you start to move, slowly at first, testing how much you can take. each slide has you gasping, your wetness mixing with the lube, creating obscene, slick sounds that echo through the room.

seungcheol’s eyes are practically burning holes into you, his breath coming out in short, shallow pants. you can feel his tension, his need to see everything, to watch every reaction, every twitch of your body as you ride the dildo.

“c’mon… let me see your face, baby,” he sulks in a greedy way.

but you shake your head again, hiding behind your hair, your chest heaving as the pleasure builds, too shy to meet his gaze. your pussy tightens around the toy as you rock your hips, the friction making your thighs shake, your moans escaping louder now, uncontrollable.

he leans in even closer, eyes dark and heavy, and it feels like he’s about to explode just from watching. his voice drops, “take that shirt off.”

“cheollie…” your voice cracks, finally looking at him for the first time since you started riding the toy. the moment your eyes meet his, the intensity nearly floors you. he’s been watching you with such focus, so goddamn turned on, and you can see it all over his face—his chest heaving, his lips slightly parted, the eyebrows knit together.

he’s so still for a second, but his eyes flick down to where the toy disappears inside you, watching how your pussy swallows the dildo, and it’s like he can’t hold it in anymore. “lift it up a little, just a little,” he says.

with a shaky breath, you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, pulling it up until it rests just under your belly button, feeling the cool air against your sopping cunt. the moment he sees you fully exposed, he lets out a low groan, like he’s moaning right along with you. his eyes are glued to the way your body moves, the way your slick drips down onto the floor as you rock your hips harder.

“fuck, you’re dripping all over,” he mutters, his eyes flicking between your face and the obscene sight below you. you’re too overwhelmed to even process the words fully, but when you feel his gaze lingering a bit too much, like he’s inspecting every little detail, you can’t help but try to hide again.

you quickly cover yourself with your hand, right over your clit, your other hand flying to the floor to support yourself as your head falls back, mouth open as a loud moan escapes. it’s getting too good now, the way the toy presses up against your walls.

you circle your clit with the hand covering you, the added stimulation making your moans uncontrollable, rolling your hips harder and faster on the dildo. “fuck, cheol… oh my god…” your voice is all breathy and desperate, and you can feel his eyes on you, burning, drinking in every reaction.

he leans forward again, elbows resting on his knees, his voice dropping even lower, almost a growl. “does it feel good, baby? look at you, fucking yourself like that. is it really better than the real thing?”

you shake your head, gasping for air, unable to form any real words as your hips move on their own, chasing the high that’s building. his voice is like gasoline on a fire, making everything burn hotter, the pleasure consuming you. you can't even look him in the eye, too mortified by how good this feels, by how badly you want more, maybe how badly you want... him?

“ride it like it’s me,” he rasps, and you almost choke on your own breath at the words. “pretend it’s my cock you’re bouncing on. ride it like you’d ride me.”

your whole body freezes for a second, the words sinking in, and your mind spins, caught between the fantasy and the reality of what’s happening. the thought of him, of riding him instead of the toy—it makes you instantly clench around the soft silicone.

you breathe in sharply, your chest heaving as you press your hand back on the floor, leaning forward. the angle change gives him the perfect view, your ass sticking out behind you, uncovered, as you start to bounce on the dildo, your knees moving in and out as you grind down harder. your moans grow louder, more desperate.

he groans softly, watching the way your body moves, the way you tremble and gasp. “shit, look at you… would you ride me like that?” his voice is so velvety. and its doing things to you. “would you moan even louder for me?”

the thought of it, of him underneath you, of riding him instead, has you spiraling. your mind can’t shake the image of his cock inside you, of bouncing on him just like this. the fantasy is too vivid, too real, and your body reacts before you can stop it. your hips slam down onto the toy harder, your moans growing higher in pitch, louder, uncontrollable.

he bites his lip, his eyes locked on the way you grind down on the dildo. his hand slides inside his sweatpants, gripping his cock, stroking himself in time with your movements, his breath coming out in shallow, desperate pants.

“fuck, you’d feel so good on me,” he groans, his hand moving faster as he strokes himself. “i bet you’d be so tight, so wet for me. you’re already dripping everywhere, baby… fuck, just thinking about it is making me lose it.”

you’re barely coherent at this point, your mind clouded by the sound of his voice, by the way the toy stretches you just right. the wet sounds of your pussy sliding up and down the dildo fill the room, mingling with your moans and his ragged breathing.

“cheol… i’m… i’m so close,” you manage to gasp out, your body trembling as you push yourself closer to the edge.

his eyes darken even more, his jaw clenched tight. “yeah? gonna cum for me?” his voice is strained.

he moves before you can even catch your breath, standing up from the chair, your hips still working on the dildo, but now, sitting straight again, and you can barely focus as he steps closer, towering over you even as he kneels down, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly.

“cheol, i—” you don’t even get the chance to finish before his hands push you down, forcing your body to slide deeper onto the dildo. you gasp, eyes widening as the toy sinks so deep inside you that it steals the air from your lungs, making you feel it so deep inside you. your hands fly to his chest, gripping his shirt tightly as you tremble against him, the fullness making it impossible to move.

your head falls forward onto his chest, whimpering as your body starts to shake. the pressure is unbearable, the dildo pressing so deep inside you that it makes your whole body seize up. and then he presses you down even further, his hands now gripping your hips, pushing you until the toy is buried to the hilt, the balls of the toy pressed on your clit, you lose it.

“CHEOL! i’m—oh my go-o-d,” you cry out, your whole body convulsing as your orgasm hits, this one even harder than any other. your hands claw at his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as you cum, trembling uncontrollably. you can’t think, can’t breathe, and he holds you through it, keeping you pinned down, making sure you feel every second of it.

he doesn’t say a word, just watches you with that hungry look in his eyes, his hands never leaving your hips as your body shakes against him.

the pleasure finally start to ebb, and you’re left panting, your body slumping against him, completely spent.

he lifts your face gently, his fingers under your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “look at me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your lips, and before you can react, he’s kissing you, desperate, all tongues and messy breaths. the taste of him fills your senses, his lips devouring yours, his hands sliding up your body to cup your face.

the kiss is all heat, your head spinning as you melt into him, moaning into his mouth as his tongue tangles with yours. he pulls away just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. “you’re so fucking perfect, you know that?”

you can barely respond, still lost in the fog, but then he’s pulling you up, guiding you to the edge of the bed. your knees hit the floor as he bends you over the corner, your chest pressed into the mattress, and you can feel him behind you, his hands gripping your hips as he positions himself.

“can i baby? can i?” he growls, and you nod weakly, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you brace yourself. he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, and the second he starts to push inside, you gasp, your hands clutching at the sheets. he’s so much thicker than the toy, so much warmer, so much real.

“fuck, cheol… it’s so… so big,” you moan, your voice shaky, and he chuckles darkly, his hands tightening on your hips as he pushes deeper.

“you can take it, pretty,” he mutters, his voice strained. “look at how well you’re taking me already, fuck… you’re so wet. such a perfect pussy,”

you can feel every inch of him, the way he pushes you open, the heat of his cock filling you in a way that’s completely different from the toy. the fullness making your head spin, but it feels so fucking good at the same time.

he starts to move, slow at first, letting you adjust to the thickness of him, but soon he’s fucking you harder, each thrust making your body yank forward, your moans getting louder with every snap of his hips.

and then he reaches behind him, grabbing the dildo, and you feel his hand slide around to your face. “open your mouth,” he orders, and you obey, your lips parting as he presses the toy against them. “suck on it.”

you moan around the toy as he slides it into your mouth, the taste of the lube mixed with your own slick coating your tongue. the act of it is so filthy, so wrong, but it turns you on even more, the feeling of his cock fucking you from behind while you suck on the dildo making your whole body burn.

“that’s it, baby, just like that,” he groans, his voice thick with lust. “fuck, you’re so fucking hot… i can’t believe how good you look right now, sucking on that while i fuck you.”

your eyes roll back as he fucks you harder, the sound of your moans muffled by the toy in your mouth. the way he’s talking to you, the dirty words spilling from his lips, makes your whole body tingle with arousal.

“you like this, huh? you like being fucked like this?” he growls, his pace quickening, his cock slamming into you with each thrust. “i bet you’d love to have my cock in your mouth instead, wouldn’t you? bet you’d choke on it, make those pretty little sounds for me.”

you whimper around the dildo, nodding weakly, your body shaking with pleasure as he fucks you harder, deeper. the pressure is building again, that familiar heat pooling in your core, and you know you’re close, so fucking close.

“gonna cum again, huh?” he grunts, his voice tight. “fuck, i can feel it. you’re so close, baby. just let go. let go f'me...”

your body spasms violently, and you barely register the way your throat tightens around the dildo as he pushes it deeper. for a moment, everything goes hazy—your head spinning from the overstimulation, your knees shaking beneath you. the sensation of being so full, of having him inside you while the dildo stretches your throat, sends you into a dizzying spiral, leaving you shaking.

your face falls onto the mattress, your body too weak to hold you up anymore. you can feel him pulling out of you, the sudden emptiness making you shiver, and then he moans—and you hear the sound of his cum, warm and wet against the floor.

he pulls the dildo from your mouth, and you gasp for air, your chest heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. your throat feels raw, hoarse from the way you had been gagging around the toy, but you can’t even focus on that, still reeling from the power of your orgasm. your throat burning from how deep the dildo had gone.

he’s still kneeling behind you, his hands resting on your hips as he leans forward, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “you’re so fucking hot,” he murmurs. “you should’ve seen yourself, baby. you looked so fucking good riding that dildo like that... i cant wait to see you riding me, real, real.”

you shudder at his words, a faint whimper escaping your lips. your body is still trembling, you feel weak and shaky, but the way he’s talking to you—so dirty—it makes your head spin all over again. his hands sliding up your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your back, his hands sliding down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “i want you to be that horny for me all the time. i want you to think about this every time you touch yourself from now on.”

you groan, burying your face deeper into the mattress, your heart pounding in your chest. he pulls back slightly, his fingers gently tugging at your hair until you turn your head to look up at him. you close your eyes, your breath still coming in shallow gasps as you try to calm down.

“cheol…” you whisper, your voice hoarse, “i don’t… i don’t think i can move…”

he chuckles softly, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back. “you don’t have to move, baby,” he says, his voice gentle now, softer than before. “just relax. you did so good for me… just rest.”

you nod weakly, him putting you fully on the bed so you can lay fully, your body sinking into the mattress.

“you okay?” he asks quietly after a few minutes, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

you nod again, your voice barely above a whisper. “yeah… just… tired.”

he smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “good. you deserve to rest after that.” he stays close, his warmth comforting against your skin, and you feel his lips curl into a smile against your forehead. it feels so fucking good. and you know, deep down, that this won’t be the last time something like this happens.

[svtiddiess]

Nom Nom: The Revenge

Synopsis: You’ve had your fun with your boyfriend; now it’s his turn to have fun with you.

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: suggestive, mini-series, established relationship

Rating: suggestive/mature

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: biting, marking, nipple play, boob play, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This is a direct sequel to Nom Nom! It's very highly recommended that you read that before this!

Thank you so much to my second favourite menace @tusswrites for beta reading!

@brownsugarbaybee your part 3 is here baby.

Read the sequel: Nom Nom: The Gyutiddies

Click here to join my taglist!

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

"I've let you have your fun, but now it's my turn."

You look up at your boyfriend, who has you pinned against the bed. His pupils are blown out, his lips are red and swollen from kissing, his hair is dishevelled, and his chest is littered with love bites made by you.

Your breath catches as your eyes fall on the initials you bit into his chest, framed by a heart. You can’t help but admire the striking contrast of the red and purple marks against his pale skin.

Seungcheol grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips.

"Did you enjoy torturing me, princess?" he scoffs.

"A little," you giggle through your puckered lips. He lets out a strained chuckle.

"Well, let's see how much you enjoy this," he smirks before reaching down and removing your shirt, leaving you in your red lace bra, he growls at the sight of it. You shiver as the cold air nips your bare skin.

"Cold princess? Don't worry, I'll warm you up soon," he purrs before diving into your breasts.

You gasp and bite your lip as he starts nipping and licking your breasts. You squirm in place from the ticklish sensation on your skin.

"Stop moving," he growls against your skin, and you immediately freeze in place.

He runs his tongue over your bra-covered nipples, soaking the fabric. You whine and tell him to stop teasing.

"Ah, ah, no complaining princess. You're going to sit there and take what I give to you like a good girl," he smirks.

You pout at him and arch your back to press your breast against him to which he chuckles.

"Such a brat," he murmurs before unclipping your bra and throwing it behind him.

You sigh in relief at the feeling of your chest being free of the restraint. Without missing a beat, he dives in and takes a breast into his mouth, sucking on your perked-up nipple. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan his name out loud. He uses his hand to knead your other breast, not leaving it neglected. After taking his time relishing your breast he moves to the other one, giving it equal attention. You can feel your already soaked panties get even more soaked, and it sticks to you like a second skin.

He releases your breast with a pop and looks down at you with a smirk.

"Since you got to mark me, it's only fair that I mark you too princess," he purrs.

"But I'm not going to mark you here," he teases as he squeezes your left breast, eliciting a gasp from you.

"I'm going to mark you…" he murmurs as his finger slowly trails down your torso and stops at your pelvis, right above your core.

"Here," he growls with a smirk.

He proceeds to leave bites and kisses trailing down to your pelvis, his hands firmly holding you in place to keep you from moving. You let out shaky breaths and whimpers, feeling your body heat up at his actions.

He looks at you as he slowly peels your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere behind him. You shudder as the cold air nips your dripping core. He slowly starts nibbling and licking the skin right above your core.

"Ch-Cheol, please," you mewl, frustrated at the teasing.

"Hush baby, don't make me gag you now," he warns.

You let out a whimper in protest, but he only smirks in reply. He looks into your eyes as he starts marking his initials into your skin, just as you did to him. Your toes curl, and you whine at the feeling of him sucking the sensitive skin. Too shy to maintain eye contact, you close your eyes. Seungcheol grumbles in response and bites down a little harder, causing you to yelp and look down at him.

"Look at me while I'm marking you," he growls against your skin. Your cheeks flush, and you bite your lip as you watch him continue to paint your skin with blotches of red and purple.

Finally satisfied, he sits up and admires the marks he’s left on your skin, gently tracing over them, making you shiver.

"You look so pretty marked with my initials, princess," he smirks. You mewl and buck your hip, desperate for him to finally touch you where you want.

"Such an impatient princess," he chuckles. "Weren't you having fun when you were teasing me? Why're you whining now?"

"I'm sorry Cheollie, please, just fuck me," you whine, tears of frustration pricking the corner of your eyes.

"Not yet, princess. I'm still not done marking you," he states with a gleam in his eye.

He then trails wet kisses down to your inner thighs. At this point you're so wet you're sure the sheet underneath you is soaked. He chuckles when he sees the wet spot forming under you.

"Such a needy princess," he mumbles before gently blowing air into your core.

"Ch-Cheol!" You gasp and jerk your hips, making him chuckle.

Instead of giving you what you want, he starts leaving love bites on your inner thighs. You instinctively try to close your legs, but he holds them open with his calloused hands. The rough texture of his skin feels ticklish against the soft skin of your thighs.

Your thighs tremble in his hold as he relentlessly bites and licks them. Soon, both your inner thighs are painted with bite marks and saliva.

"Cheollie, please. I can't take it anymore," you whine out in frustration. If he continues with the teasing, you might actually end up crying. He chuckles as he sits up, his knees positioned outside of yours.

"Almost done princess. I need to take a picture of my masterpiece, don't I?" he cocks his head and smiles slyly as he reaches for his phone.

He looks down and almost moans at the sight. Your hair is spread across the pillow, perfectly framing your face. Your pupils are dilated, lips red and swollen from kissing, and your body adorned with purple and red bite marks, along with his initials etched into your skin right above your core, and your core is glistening, coated with your arousal.

He licks his lips as he takes multiple photos of you, making sure every detail is captured. The pictures would definitely come in handy when he's off on tour and needs something to jerk off to.

"Cheol," you plead, wanting him to finally fuck you already.

"Princess really can't wait for my dick huh?" He playfully mocks your pout, putting his phone away. You nod eagerly, pouting and giving him puppy eyes, hoping he’ll finally give in.

"Don't worry princess, I'll make sure to fuck you until my dick is the only thing you can think about."

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Stolen Sweater

› content ┆ idol scoups x fem reader, established relationship, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 1.4k. ⌁ summary ┆ Seungcheol comes home to you wearing his sweater ❀ a/n┆i feel like that would be something I would do if i were to be in a relationship, plus Seungcheol is big so it would be the perfect size to drown in his sweaters

It was a lazy afternoon, the kind where the sky outside was overcast, and the chill in the air made staying indoors the perfect plan. Seungcheol hadn’t been home for long, having just finished showering, but he was already beginning to relax into the peaceful quiet of the late afternoon. After a grueling practice session with the members, the ache in his muscles was a welcome reminder of how hard they’d been working. Yet, as much as he loved his group and his role as their leader, coming home to you was what really made him feel at ease.

Seungcheol was never one to admit just how much he loved the little things about his relationship. As a leader, he had always been the strong, reliable one—the protector. But when it came to you, there was something different about the way you made him feel. You had a way of softening him, of making him smile even on the hardest days. Today, though, you managed to catch him completely off guard.

As he walked across the hallway toward the living room, still rubbing his damp hair with a towel, he caught sight of you, and it made him stop in his tracks.

There you were, curled up on the couch, one leg tucked beneath you, completely absorbed in a book, a cup of warm tea on the coffee table. But it wasn’t the peaceful scene that stopped him in his tracks—it was what you were wearing.

His sweater.

His heart skipped a beat. It was his favorite sweater—black, slightly worn, with a faded Chrome Hearts logo of the brand he loved so much. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d worn it himself, nor did he realize you’d taken it. Yet, there you were, wrapped up in it, looking impossibly cozy in the too-big sleeves, your fingers just barely peeking out cutely.

For a moment, Seungcheol didn’t say anything but just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, his towel long forgotten in his hand. His eyes roamed over you: from the way the sweater practically swallowed your small frame to how your fingers barely peeked out of the sleeves as you held your book. The neckline hung loosely, revealing just a bit of your collarbone, and something about that made his heart race.

It wasn’t just that you looked good—you did, of course—but it was more than that. There was something intimate, something almost possessive about seeing you in his clothes like you’d claimed a piece of him, even if you didn’t realize it.

He hadn’t noticed how long he’d been staring until you looked up from your book after sensing his presence, your eyes meeting his. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as if you’d caught onto his reaction.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice warm and familiar. “You’re home.”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, trying to shake off the daze you’d put him in. “Yeah, just got back.” He walked further into the room, tossing the towel onto the armchair, but his eyes kept looking at you. “You… you’re wearing my sweater.”

You glanced down as if only just realizing it, then back up at him with a playful smile. “Oh, this? It was cold, and it was the first thing I saw in your closet. It’s really... comfortable.”

Seungcheol blinked, still processing the sight in front of him. The way you said it, so casually, like it was no big deal, made him chuckle. But it *was* a big deal, at least to him.

There was something about you wearing his clothes that did something to him, something he couldn’t quite put into words. He didn’t mind, of course. If anything, he found it endearing. It felt intimate like you were wrapped up in a piece of him. He felt his chest warm with a strange mix of pride and affection.

“Does it feel okay?” he asked, sitting down beside you, his hand instinctively reaching out to touch the hem of the sweater’s sleeve. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric, and for some reason, the action made him feel strangely protective.

You nodded, shifting a little closer to him. “It’s perfect. Honestly, I think I’m going to keep it,” you teased, glancing up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, really? You’re just going to steal my favorite sweater like that?”

“Stealing is a strong word,” you replied, tilting your head slightly. “Borrowing indefinitely sounds nicer.”

He laughed, a deep, rich yet cute sound that filled the room. “Alright, alright. I guess I can let you borrow it… indefinitely.” His voice softened, and the teasing tone faded as he continued to look at you, still feeling that tug in his chest at the sight of you in his clothes.

“You look better in it than I do,” he finally said, his voice soft.

You laughed lightly, your cheeks flushing just a little at his compliment. “I don’t know about that. It’s pretty big on me.”

“Yeah, but that’s the point,” he teased. “It’s supposed to be big.”

You set your book aside, sliding closer to him. “Well, it’s perfect for this kind of weather.”

You leaned into him, resting your head against his shoulder, and Seungcheol instinctively wrapped an arm around you, pulling you even closer. You fit perfectly under his arm, snug and warm, and he couldn’t help but notice the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the sweater. It was the little things like this that made him realize how much he loved you—how much you meant to him.

“I’ll get you your own,” he murmured into your hair, though he didn’t really mean it. He liked seeing you in his clothes, liked how it felt like you were carrying a piece of him.

“Why would I need my own when I can just steal yours forever?” you replied, your voice playful but laced with affection.

He chuckled, resting his chin on top of your head. “Fair point.”

They stayed like that for a while, the sound of rain beginning to tap softly against the window, a gentle rhythm that matched the calm between them. Seungcheol absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down your arm, tracing the soft material of the sweater, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in the moment.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful, “I’ve never really been the type to care about stuff like this. But seeing you in my sweater…” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “It makes me happy. I don’t know why.”

You tilted your head up to look at him, your expression softening. “You don’t have to explain it. I get it.”

He smiled down at you, grateful that you always seemed to understand him, even when he struggled to find the words. Seungcheol wasn’t the best at expressing his feelings, especially when it came to sentimental things like this, but you always made it easier for him.

“You can wear it whenever you want,” he murmured, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “It looks better on you anyway.”

You laughed softly, leaning back into his chest. “You say that now, but you’ll miss it when you can’t find it in your closet.”

Seungcheol chuckled, “Maybe, but if it means you’re always wearing a piece of me, I think I can live with that.”

You didn’t say anything for a while, just settled more comfortably into his embrace, and Seungcheol closed his eyes, letting the warmth of your body and the soft patter of the rain lull him into a peaceful state. He didn’t need anything more than this—just the quiet intimacy of sharing a piece of himself with you.

After a long moment, you spoke up again, your voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I think I love this sweater now too.”

Seungcheol smiled against your hair, holding you just a little tighter. “Good. Because it’s yours now.”

They sat there in comfortable silence for a while, the warmth of the sweater and each other keeping the chill of the afternoon at bay. Seungcheol didn’t need grand gestures or big declarations of love; moments like these were enough. His sweater, his girl, and the quiet peace they shared—it was all he needed. It was enough to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

› anonymous review form

here comes my first even Seungcheol fanfic! Posting this after the One Ok Rock concert in Paris

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! don't forget tp like, reblog, comment ^^

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip"🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[hannieween]

chaser | heartbreaker series | c.sc

Breakups are tough. For years, you had to push your feelings down to try and move on. But now, you were back again with Choi Seungcheol, rekindling the ardent flame of your love, and lost promises.

✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader ✧ genre: angst, fluff, smut (18+) ✧ aus: bar owner seungcheol, ex seungcheol, secret relationship ✧ word count: 15.8k

›🎧: up late – gemini | can we go back – dojaejung | come back to me – rm | blue – v | i love it – dean, dok2 | merry go – dpr ian | healing killing – tabber | shadow – ten | mon amour – gemini | different – woodz

→ previous chapters – read more

› smut warnings under the cut

✧ warnings: smut with plot, dubcon (slight somnophilia), daddy kink, dom seungcheol, sub reader, reader is on birth control, big dick seungcheol, multiple sex scenes (these two are unstoppable), literal love making, pussy eating, morning sex, unprotected p in v sex, creampies, overstimming, rough fucking, manhandling, dirty talk, edging, seungcheol is kind of a menace, creampies, aftercare, pillowtalk, exhibitionism: groping in the workspace, quickie in the workspace. pet names: love, baby, angel (hers) daddy, babe (his) ✧ author's note: this is very long overdue, i kept putting it off and on because i wasn't feeling it and honestly, the city lights series is kind of a hyperfixation of mine so... yeah hehe. i hope you like this!! (❁´◡`❁) ✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

part iv

It was more than just a dream.

You remember everything quite well. It was one of those games in which you were certain that Seungcheol could get anything he wanted only by his determination.

Seungcheol was sweaty. His long black hair stuck to the back of his neck and his forehead. He grabbed the hem of the red jersey he wore, lifted it up, to clean the sweat on his upper lip, revealing his abdomen in the process.

You remember overhearing the chattering and muffled giggles from the girls sitting behind you on the bleachers. You didn't bother to look back, or to even try and listen to what they were saying. Because all eyes were on him.

Seungcheol was the team captain, top of his class. And he was hot as fuck. So that made him inadvertently popular around the campus.

It also didn't help that he was putting on a show. It was late at night but the misty summer breeze didn't help to alleviate the heat that had him covered in sweat, plus the exercise he got from running on the field.

He would let his head hang back a little as he crossed the field with a slow, exhausted walk, recovering with hard and deep breaths before jumping on a sprint. Sometimes, whenever he was just on standby, he would grab his shirt by the hem and lift it upwards, fanning some air to his sweaty tummy.

Slowly, you felt the dream slip away from you as wakefulness started to kick in. You tried to hold on to the faint slivers of your dream, to the memory of Seungcheol's gummy smile, running to you, victorious.

You were fully awake now, but you had to force yourself to remember. He lifted you in his arms, spinning you around, laughing at the squeal you made. It was his last game as a university student. And he had won, just as he always did.

"You won, baby," he told you.

"I didn't, you did," you smiled at him, encircling his neck with your arms.

"You gave me luck," he said, as he always did.

The sunlight poured through the tall windows and onto the large bed, until slowly as the morning rolled in, you felt its warm soaking on your skin, pouring slowly onto your exposed arm and chest, and then onto your face.

Upon blinking you realized that you had shed some tears in your sleep.

A heavy arm slid on your waist and circled your torso with a pleased sigh, pulling you so his front was pressed to your back. The warmth radiating from his body was unlike the sunlight creeping onto your bodies. It was snuggly and familiar.

Seungcheol hummed softly, half asleep but conscious enough to plant a kiss in your hair, nuzzling his face with another soft sigh. The arm wrapped around you moved again, his hand sliding to the centre of your tummy.

You were still trying to come to terms that you were back to reality, barely aware of what Seungcheol was up to when with a small grunt, he moved his body on top of yours, littering your chest with kisses, trailing down to your tummy.

In seconds, his hands were angling your thighs open for him, kissing your lower tummy, making you arch your back to get more of his open kisses, the slight brush of his wet lips against your inner thighs making you open your eyes.

You brought up a hand to gather your tears, feeling a bit puzzled as the other hand found his head nuzzled between your languid thighs, when his teeth grazed your skin softly, bringing out a groggy moan from you.

Your hands quickly grabbed the sides of his head. "Babe?" you rasped. "Cheol, what are you doing?"

His mouth was already sliding on your mound with sweet, wet kisses, trailing down to lick and softly bite your pussy lips, bringing you back to life in a second.

"Baby, oh god, yes," you mewled, body jolting on the bed, you pulled back the bedsheets, uncovering your body, Seungcheol between your thighs as he slowly began to push his mouth between your folds, kissing you openly.

You arched your back instinctively, letting out a raspy moan as his tongue laved generously at the arousal already pooling at your entrance.

Your mind fragmented between the dream and reality. Your ex-boyfriend's hair was long, but now it was dyed in a pale blond. As you propped yourself up on one elbow, you saw his upper back, stockier than you remembered it.

But there was no denying that no matter how long it had passed, Seungcheol still knew you like the back of his hand. He pushed a hand on your lower tummy, very close to your mound, leaving the top of it exposed, your swollen clit to the mercy of his tongue.

Seungcheol paused, casting a loving look at you before diving right back into your pussy, letting out a raspy hum like a man starved, his free hand creeping up to your chest, finding your breast to give a gentle squeeze with his fingers, a thumb brushing over your nipple.

"Cheol," you called softly, fingers grazing his scalp as you held onto his hair. "Just like that, daddy, please."

He groaned in response, moving his tongue in swift side to side movements on your clit, his hand pressing harder on your lower tummy, the feeling in your cunt intensifying.

"Oh god!" you gasped when his fingers pinched your nipple and tugged at it, caressing your boob with his fingers just to hear more of the noises you made.

He trapped your puffy clit between his lips, pulling at it, causing smacking noises as he continued to do it repeatedly, humming in your pussy, the sound vibrating in your sensitive bud.

"Cheol," you mewled, closing your eyes to the pleasure burning in your body. "God, daddy, I'm close," you whispered.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, immediately starting to suckle at it, the slurping sounding loudly in between your lewd whimpers and sharp gasps.

You used the hand clenching on his hair to press him down your cunt almost as a reflex before your head lolled back, pleasure consuming your body quickly, tingling in your face and making you cry out his name.

As your orgasm flooded inside your body, Seungcheol continued teasing your clit with his mouth, waiting for you to relax into your high. His big eyes darted a look up at you, but his mouth didn't relent.

"Mmn, Cheol," you called in a breathy tone, being that you were a languid mess. "So good."

His tongue pressed flatly on your core again, drinking in your arousal with a pleased and raspy moan.

Seungcheol didn't say anything, pressing kisses on your pussy lips before detaching his mouth from it, pulling his body back so he stood on his knees.

The bed covers and the sheets fell from his back. Your eyes roamed all over his body, wholly naked in between your thighs. His milky white skin bathed by the morning sunlight contrasting beautifully with the dark backdrop of his bedroom.

You would never get enough of such a sight. His body was perfect, his broad chest and beefy and strong arms that held you throughout the night, his meaty thighs, his long and thick cock, standing fully hard now. Seungcheol was perfect.

Seungcheol noticed your eyes on him, giving you a smile that could heal every wound, every ache you have ever felt. Your heart jolted in your chest, you loved him so much still that you could sob.

"You're okay there, baby?" he asked softly. There was a light frown on his face, probably noticing the tears brimming in your eyes.

You nodded, leaning your back into the mattress and you extended a hand to him. "I need you. Right now, Cheol."

Seungcheol trusted you. He knew that if you were not okay, you would speak out. But that didn't ease the frown. He moved his body on top of you, his big arms framing your head, his face leaning closer to yours.

"Are you sure? Am I doing something wrong?" he whispered with genuine worry lacing his tone.

You used the proximity to his face to press feathery kisses on his lips. "No, I'm sure," you whispered. "Don't stop, please, Cheol."

The corner of his lips quirked up slightly, but he didn't reply verbally. He moved one arm from the side to your head, sneaking it between your body and his to grab his cock, guiding it to your core.

"Look at me, angel," he breathed, nudging his cockhead in your entrance.

If you could lose yourself in those sweet, but dark eyes, you would. As he started pushing in, you felt the muscles of your face go lax, making your mouth part.

Seungcheol mimicked your expression, his full lips parting as he sheathed himself inside you slowly, a quiet, strangled groan coiling in his throat, making his Adam's apple bob.

His eyebrows knitted when his hips met your own, making him sigh deeply, his cock fully inside you now, his arm returned to frame your head and you realized that you had pushed your eyebrows inward too.

Your hands held onto his strong shoulders, then your fingernails dug deeply into the hard muscle on his back, making him moan as he dragged his thick cock back and pushed it right into your tight and warm walls.

"God," he breathed, his eyelids fluttering when he closed them briefly.

The experience of being with him after so long of being apart was nearly mind-shattering for a second. You never wanted something more than being with him like this, the nights spent dreaming with memories of him... and now you were there. It was real.

"Seungcheol?" you called, your voice tiny, but quivering slightly.

"Yes, baby?" he rasped, hips rolling slowly on top of yours, moving his cock inside you at a deliciously good pace.

You shivered slightly when his fingers grazed your scalp, twisting gently in the locks of your hair.

"Baby? What's wrong?" he asked softly, his brow furrowed again when your eyes finally let your tears go.

You moved one hand from his back, meeting his cheek. A tiny sob broke inside you when Seungcheol leaned his face against the palm of your hand. The movement was almost instinctive, as though his body remembered all of the times he did that in the past.

"I love you," you whispered.

For a moment, it seemed that the world had stopped, because your heart had. It had been years since you uttered those words to anyone, and the last person to hear those words coming from you was him.

His dark eyes glinted with some emotion, reading the features of your face swiftly. His frown had relaxed the moment he heard you utter those words to him.

"I love you," he whispered back, gulped hard and dropped his forehead on top of yours with a moany sigh. "I love you. I love you."

You sobbed, your other hand finding his other cheek so you were cupping his face fully now, lips meeting in tender and brief kisses as he kept moving his hips in deep and slow thrusts.

"Cheol," you sighed, instinctively pushing your knees back angling your hips for him to push his own against yours, his cock reaching deeper in this new position.

"I'm here, baby," he whispered, and then with a sharp intake of breath, added: "I never stopped loving you."

"Neither did I," you breathed.

Seungcheol let out a sound between a raspy moan and sighed as he crushed his mouth with yours, kissing you deeply, as if trying to convey all of the I love yous he didn't get to say when you left.

His chest pressed flush against yours as he rolled his hips on yours. "You are my everything," he muttered, though his voice broke halfway through the sentence.

You knew him well enough to know that he struggled with saying what his heart felt. So hearing that caused a powerful shudder in you. "You are too, Seungcheol," you whispered, swallowing your tears. "Always have been."

"I missed you so much," he continued, as if in a maddened frenzy, pushing his hips slowly and urgently, his pace pushing your body in the sheets slightly, if it were now for his arms framing your head.

"I missed you too," you breathed, running your fingers through his hair to then link them on his nape. "Everyday, all the time."

"God, baby," he whispered, squeezing his eyelids shut for a second. "Angel, I'm close."

You only nodded with your head, not caring anymore about coming for a second time, you just wanted to feel him, to hear his raspy moans and sighs, to be this close to him.

However, Seungcheol thought differently. "I want you to come again," he said, hooking one of your legs on his shoulder expertly, and then the other.

Your eyes brimmed with tears of pleasure as he pushed his cock inside you but deeper this time, eliciting a long and raw moan from you from the change. Your hands tightened the grip on his hard biceps as his hips plowed on you.

"God, " you mewled as your head sank back on the pillow, writhing under his body. "Please, please, Cheol, don't stop, please."

"That's it, angel," he praised, sighing a pleased smile that wrinkled the corners of his eyes. But then, you could see his own orgasm overtaking him, his dark eyes glazing over the overwhelming pleasure, his lower lip quivering slightly as he let out a guttural moan but his eyes never left your face, watching your face as you came around him. "That's it, baby. Come for me."

As if on command, you felt pleasure blooming inside you, waves of bliss washing and sizzling from under your skin. The feeling so strong that you had to squeeze your eyes for a second, seeing stars in the sudden darkness. "Fuck," you mouthed, being overcome by ecstasy. "Cheol, babe," you mewled.

"I'm here," he whispered. "Look at me, baby," he pleaded in a louder, raspy tone.

When you opened your eyes, you saw his lips parting, his eyes glistening, his nose wrinkled a little bit before he grunted with his mouth slightly opened. "God, baby," he groaned, pushing his hips against you sloppily, his cock clamped by your pulsating warmth, tipping him over too.

You moved your hand to cup his cheek, locking eyes with him as he came. There was a sense of satisfaction filling your chest when he too, looked overwhelmed by pleasure. He sucked in a breath, and a grunt left his mouth next, thrusting his cum inside you slowly and forcefully, until he stopped, breathless.

Your hand slided on his cheek, running the pad of your thumb on his lower lip as you kept your gaze on the features of his face, smiling at him when he did the same, moving one hand clumsily to caress your face.

"Hi, baby," he sighed heavily, his red lips stretching in a wide smile.

"Hi, Cheol," you giggled, his gaze softening when he heard your laugh.

"Are you okay, love?" he asked then, his eyes roaming over the features of your face, reading you expertly.

"Yeah, I'm okay, babe," you gave him a nod with your head.

"Are you sure?" he insisted, his hand on your cheek slipped beneath your head, leaning over to leave a kiss on your forehead.

"I was just feeling a little sentimental," you mumbled, pushing his long blond hair back, using the pads of your fingers to caress his face. "I dreamt of you, that's all," you explained, now toying with the earrings adorning his earlobe.

"Oh, yeah?" he whispered with a sweet, endearing looking grin. "What did you dream about that got you tearing up, baby?"

"Remember your last match in uni?" you ventured to ask, pausing for him to give you a short nod with his head. "That's it, I guess it was more like a memory than a dream."

"And that was the reason you were crying, baby?" his tone was sweet, his dark, glistening eyes still outlining your features. He grinned when you nodded at him again. "Really? Why?"

"I'm–I just miss you," you whispered nervously, choking up with the memory of him in his university days, when your relationship was blooming and you felt like nothing could tear you down, as long as you were with him.

"I'm here, baby," he leaned over, bumping the tip of his nose with yours before he pressed his smiling lips on yours, grazing them before he locked yours in a brief, warm kiss. "Not going anywhere."

You giggled. "Neither will I," you mumbled with a shaky voice, feeling like you were threading down a dangerous path with that sentence.

"I'm not letting you go either way," he replied, his tone had dropped to a raspy low one.

"Promise?"

"I promise," he replied with certainty. "I meant what I said, I'm ready for us," he said and you pretty much understood that he was calling back to the big discussion you had when you finalized your relationship with him.

"I'm ready too," you said, choking up again at the memory of that night.

"I know," he smirked.

After all, he knew you better than anyone in the world.

He propped his hands on the pillows to peel his body off yours, thus pulling out of your sopping wet walls, with a tired grunt. "Come here," he whispered when he climbed off the bed.

You obediently crawled to the edge of the bed, where he promptly lifted you up, bridal style. "You know I can walk there," you smiled at the proud look on his face.

"And you know that you don't have to, baby," he replied, the tips of his ears turning red. "Don't pretend you don't like it."

That made you giggle giddily. "You may have a point there, Cheol," you shrugged slightly.

Seungcheol set you down on the bathroom floor, turning his back on you to reach out to turn the shower on. You looked around the room, aimlessly.

"What?" he asked, his eyebrow cocking up slightly when he read your face.

"Can you... give me a minute, please?" you asked meekly.

"Seriously?" he started with a breathy laugh. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious!" you replied in kind.

"Why are you being shy about that?" he asked bewilderedly. "I've seen you pee before. Like thousands of times."

You scrunched up your face in a grimace. "Please, babe. I don't know if I can hold it anymore."

His laugh bounced on the walls of the polished bathroom. "Okay, okay!" he replied, still giggling himself silly.

But he did not turn and walk out of the bathroom, instead, he just simply hopped in the shower, closing the glass door and moving to stand under the shower head.

"Babe!" you squealed, eliciting another goofy laugh from him.

"What, I'm not watching!" he protested. "My eyes are closed!"

You sat on the toilet, biting your lower lip in concentration, feeling your brow furrow and you let out a big sigh.

Seungcheol heard that. "Baby, just go," he sneaked a look through the glass door of the shower, hair completely wet and pushed back, his naked, gorgeous body glistening wet.

"I can't if you're watching me," you said shyly, a smile breaking the concentration written in your face.

"Why? You've done it in front of me before," he shrugged and returned to stand under the stream of water. "Countless times."

"Yeah but..." you sighed again, but now in relief as you finally could relieve yourself.

Seungcheol smiled when you stepped into the shower floor afterwards, moving so you could stand beneath the showerhead. "What were you saying?"

"Nothing," you pressed your lips into a smile. "You're right, I was just feeling shy."

"It's okay baby. I get it," he shrugged, his eyes set on the movements of your body as you started rubbing your shampoo on your scalp.

"I guess we have been away from each other for so long that it's hard to get myself back to how we were before."

The honesty in your words was so blunt that it hit you only after you had already uttered them. Time froze for a second and you blinked the water from your lashes to sneak a look to his face.

He looked solemn, nodding slowly but you noticed the sad glint in his eyes, dimming the natural spark in them. "I understand," he muttered, but you noticed right away that he felt rejected. "I don't want you to feel pressured into doing stuff that we used to do like before. We can take it step by step. Mark new boundaries."

And with that, he stepped out of the shower, leaving you to continue showering in your own space.

Seungcheol was so quick to jump back to the relationship that he did not share the same burden that you carried. It was stupid, but you still felt like you had a lot to atone. And that stopped you from jumping with him.

You felt bad, but not only because of the dejectedness your words caused Seungcheol to feel. You felt bad for all of the time that you lost while being away from him. You felt bad for not being able to pick up where you left off with him.

And you wanted to change that, consequences be damned.

Kim Mingyu missed his shift for the second time the following day.

He sent a text early in the morning in the group chat, telling Seungcheol he had family matters to tend to.

But Seungcheol knew Mingyu well enough to tell when he was bullshitting.

"He's not doing great at the moment," Wonwoo informed his boss as they were setting up before open hours.

"I'll talk to him," Seungcheol stated with decisiveness, drawing a curious glance from you.

"Sure, boss?" Wonwoo asked. "I can do it. He's been avoiding everyone."

Wonwoo brought a hand to his nape, scratching aimlessly as he appeared to consider something over a moment. "On second thought..." he paused, then brought a lithe finger to push up the frames sitting on the nose of his bridge. "I think it's a good idea. You should talk to him, boss. Maybe he'll listen to you."

Seungcheol gave no verbal reply. He just nodded his pale blond head and disappeared behind the kitchen doors.

"Is Mingyu alright, though?" you asked curiously as you wiped a glass jar with a dishcloth.

"Absolutely not," Wonwoo confessed with a hollow laugh. "He's been a mess. He doesn't leave his room."

Wonwoo was worried, you could tell from the way the muscles above his eyebrows dipped slightly.

"And you think Seungcheol talking to him is a good idea?" you wondered, a genuine curiosity reverberating in your tone.

Wonwoo sent a side glance at you. The tall man was standing beside you, now that you were overtaking Mingyu's position for the day. It was a very slow day though, but Seungcheol had asked for you to cover.

"Boss might not be the most tactful guy I know," Wonwoo muttered between his teeth, sending casual glances to the kitchen doors. "But he definitely has more experience than me around... this stuff."

You stilled for a fraction of a second before resuming to clean the next jar. "What do you mean?" you pressed, trying to sound as unknowingly as you could.

"Mmn, let's just say that I've never been through a breakup like this," he put in with a nonchalant tone. "But boss has."

Your heart skipped a beat, sending a painful spasm in your chest. "Oh," you blinked. "I didn't know that."

It appeared as though Wonwoo believed your lie, pressing his lips into a tight line as he nodded slowly. "I met him after it happened, but it apparently shocked everyone that knew him and his ex. We have some friends in common, so that's how I heard of it."

"Sounds like a big breakup," you smiled stiffly.

"Yeah, I mean," Wonwoo cocked his head towards the very big neon sign on the wall behind the bartop that read Heartbreaker in red letters.

You filled your tummy with a big breath to suppress the guilt trying to set right in. "That explains some things," you sighed awkwardly.

"I've only heard stories," Wonwoo said with a low tone, still sending cautious glances at the kitchen door. "Boss has never actually said nothing about it. Well, to be honest, he rarely ever tells nothing about himself. He's all work."

"Really?" your voice shot up slightly.

Wonwoo's gaze panned over to where you stood behind the bartop. "Really. I've known him for two years already, he's never said a thing," he told you casually. "But I met him through a friend who knows him from a while back so, word got around that he was left broken pretty badly."

You had expected to hear something like this, but not from Wonwoo, not from someone that was not aware that it was you who broke his heart. The guilt consumed you like a fiery discomfort settling on the pit of your stomach, but with a gulp of air, you tried your best to compose yourself.

It was too late, Wonwoo had his head tilted to one side, his eyes analyzing your face. He didn't budge like you did, when Seungcheol came back to the general area.

"Everything alright?" Seungcheol asked, noticing the very evident interruption in the conversation.

"Everything alright, boss," Wonwoo replied without deterring his eyes from your face, a second passed and then he turned to Seungcheol. "Are you handling the tables tonight, then?"

"It's a slow day, so I might help you out here and there," he looked around, a frown on his face. "Where is the new kid? Chan."

Wonwoo shook his head. "He only comes on the weekends."

"Right," Seungcheol scrunched up his nose, palming the lacquered bartop with his hand. "Well, then I'm going to be handling the tables tonight. And maybe we should think of hiring more people starting next month."

He pressed his lips into a line before walking to the door that led to the back of the bar and disappeared.

"What is your deal with him, anyway?" Wonwoo asked abruptly, grabbing a box of beers to place in an organized rows inside the fridges.

"I just... want to understand why he is like this," you explained, though your words were uncertain, making your tone sound hollow.

"It was worse when I met him," he muttered, stretching his arm into the fridge to obsessively place the bottles into neat rows. "Like you said, he is not that bad now. And to be fair, he hasn't been nearly as bad to you as he was to Mings when he was the newbie."

You realized that the bottles were organized by the brewing style as well. "I see," you replied unconvincingly.

Wonwoo closed the door of the fridge for a moment, wiping his hands with a dry cloth as he took some reluctant steps towards you. "In fact, he's gotten a lot better lately. It wasn't until you arrived here that he got all pissy again."

"Is that so?" you asked, trying to keep a blank face, but you were pretty sure that he had you all figured out already.

"That's so," Wonwoo said, his voice dropping to a mere whisper, the corner of his mouth curved up slightly.

You and your stupid mouth.

You knew there was no issue with Seungcheol if Wonwoo and Mingyu knew about your shared past. He has told you time and time again that you could trust the two bartenders because he trusts them both with his life.

The truth was, you were scared. You didn't want to bear witness to Wonwoo or Mingyu treating you differently if they knew you were partially the reason why their boss had this reputation of being a jerk.

But it was clear that Wonwoo, being the detective that he was, had already noticed your very difficult to hide attraction to Seungcheol. That, on top with your brief interrogation might be two things to put together, thus uncovering you as the evil ex that left him badly broken.

"Maybe he likes you," he shrugged, clicking his tongue and sucking in a slow breath.

"Wonwoo!" you reprimanded in an scandalous fashion, dropping your hands at your sides and you felt the muscles of your eyes stretch wildly. "You can't know that!"

Jeon Wonwoo laughed, the bridge of his nose wrinkling in the process so he had to push his glasses back up with the tip of his finger. "I mean, that's the only explanation in my mind. Why would he get this pissy? Maybe he finds a certain attraction for you but can't really express it, you know? He's a difficult man when it comes to that stuff."

"What do you mean?" you tilted your head to one side, pretending to be completely clueless.

"He uh..." he shot a look to the door that led to the backrooms. And being certain that the coast was clear, he continued, he even leaned back against the door of the fridge. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I am also intrigued, so, whatever," he shrugged. "He dated someone briefly not long ago, cut it off shortly after, worst week of my life."

A sharp pain crossed your heart like a lightning bolt, making the muscles of your face freeze. "Of your life?" you tried smiling but it came out as a stiff recoil of your facial features. "Seems a bit much, doesn't it?"

"I'm not saying that to make it about myself, I get how it sounds but," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "The man was pissed off all the time."

"Well, maybe it just didn't work out like he expected," you muttered, pretending to be cleaning the surface of the bartop thoroughly, but your heart was pounding a mile per second, each pump hurting your chest, robbing you of air.

A thought crossed the back of your mind: the way Seungcheol comfortably threw the comment of you dating other people, having sex with other people during the time you were abroad. He assumed that you also moved on, because he had too.

Wonwoo muttered something under his breath that sounded like: "It makes me wonder," but did not proceed to tell you more. And you did not push.

Because you were trying with all of your might to appear uninterested. Even if Wonwoo was apparently open to the idea to talk about your boss behind his back, you were completely unequipped to take this new information with a blank face.

"So have you found a place to stay?" Wonwoo asked some minutes after.

You understood that the question came from a place of genuine interest and not just because he wanted to change the subject of conversation. "Yeah, I'm staying with someone," you pressed your lips in a tight smile when your voice broke at the last word.

"Oh, that's good to hear," he muttered, resuming to place the beer bottles neatly on the shelves of the fridge. "So you do have friends after all."

"What is that supposed to mean now?" you laughed and you noticed him raise his eyes above the rim of his glasses to take a look at your smile.

He smiled too. "You said you didn't have friends, if I remember correctly," he muttered with an awkwardness about his manner.

"You don't," you chuckled. "I never said that. I do have friends... just not that many."

"Imaginary friends don't count."

"He's not imaginary, he's very real!" you protested with a high-keen tone.

"He?" he huffed with a small grin. "So it's just one friend."

"Yeah," you sighed shamefully, your tone dropping to a tiny one. "Just one."

"Well, consider me and Mings as friends," he closed the fridge, swinging the cloth over his shoulder. "So it's plural now. Friends."

Friends.

Something warm and cozy filled your chest. It felt nice, it felt right.

"I usually don't drink on mondays," Yoon Jeonghan stated, looking down at the table as the large jug of pale beer was set in the middle along with your food.

"You're gonna," you replied to him, pouring him and yourself a glass.

"Damn, you do need it," his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in a wide smile.

"I do," you sighed, chugging the half of your glass before stopping to breathe. "I don't think I can do this sober."

He chuckled with his mouth wide open. "Fair enough," he lifted his glass and drank, throwing you a curious glance.

"What?" you inquired.

He let out a breath after chugging half of his glass to be on par with you. "Nothing, it's just... I never thought I would see you again, y'know?"

"I could say the same," you admitted.

"Before you start explaining and I really do want to hear your version of this, let me put you in my perspective," he spoke fast, and you could tell he was nervous because he was bouncing on his seat like a little kid.

"Okay," you conceded, though it was unnecessary because this was Jeonghan, he was going to have his way.

He set his palms down on the restaurant table. "One night you were telling me that you were dropping all of your plans of getting your master's degree and the next day, you were gone."

You blinked and nodded, understanding how the situation looked for him.

He continued. "I had to find out from your crazy ass parents that you were gone."

"Seungcheol didn't tell you?" you had to ask, feeling shy to interrupt him.

He shook his black haired head. "He didn't speak to me or to anyone I know for a month. He hid from everyone, to this day, I don't know where he went," he paused and you saw that he was still upset about it. "I showed up to your parents' and had to ask what the hell was happening 'cause you were out of reach and Seungcheol didn't answer his phone," his gaze fell out of focus, lost in the memory. "When I saw him again, he was packing up his stuff, moving to another apartment."

"God, I'm so sorry, Han," you muttered, dropping your gaze in utter shame.

"And then, you know what your parents say?" he pushed his hair back from his forehead, getting angrier at the mention of your parents. "They told me that you were not coming back. They acted like it was funny that I was looking for you. They told me you were continuing your studies and god knows where you were coming back."

You nodded slowly, biting your lower lip.

"So you do know about that. Great," he sat back and drank the remaining half of his glass. "Care to take it from there?"

"That's why I'm not on speaking terms with my parents," you begun to explain. "They wanted me married to some old guy by the time I received my master's diploma."

"Let me tell you this before you continue," he placed a hand softly on your forearm. "Your parents are the worst people I've ever met in my life."

"I know," you nodded again, hearing that from your closest friends wasn't exactly a new thing but you wondered for how long Jeonghan held that back.

"Shittiest parents in the world," he went on, throwing his hand away.

"Damn, okay," you laughed.

"Sorry," he chuckled again. "Got carried off."

You had to pause upon hearing his laugh, it sent a warm, fuzzy feeling inside you almost in an instant. Much as if your best friend's laugh was the kind of medicine you were missing for so long.

"Where was I?" you frowned. "Ah, yes—my parents married me off to some dude to form another political alliance and I didn't proceed so that's why I got cut off and been living alone since then."

Jeonghan blinked. "Jesus," he muttered. "You actually got married?"

"God, no," you shook your head violently. "They made me sign a binding contract saying that I'd marry anyone they selected for me. I broke the contract, paid a lawyer and everything."

"Jesus," he hissed again, dropping his chopsticks to his plate. "That's insane. Does Cheol know about that?"

You shook your head again and poured more beer in his glass and then yours, avoiding his gaze.

"Fuck, that's crazy," he muttered again, ruffling his fluffy black hair irately. "Your family is fucking crazy."

"I knoooow," you whispered, feeling the alcohol take its effect slowly, making your cheeks hot. "That's not the end of it, though."

"There's more?" his eyes widened in alarm. "You were right, I can't do this sober either."

Jeonghan chugged some more beer and you waited for him to stop swallowing it because you've known him to spit out his drink if he hears something shocking or worthy of a laugh.

"Because I had to pay a bunch of legal fees, and the PhD and everything I kind of started blowing off my savings and used my stipend to survive but, it wasn't enough so–"

"You ended up in Cheol's bar," he inferred.

"That's right," you nodded.

"And you didn't see him?" he asked with a frown. "He practically lives there."

"All the hiring process was handled by Wonwoo," you pressed your lips in a fine line. "I didn't see Seungcheol until it was my first day at the job."

He set his empty glass down on the table with a blank expression on his face. "You have the most terrible luck on earth, let me tell you that."

You started laughing—not out of joy. It was almost a crazed laugh, probably fuelled by coming clean and the two glasses of beer that you already downed.

"I know, I know," you wiped off a tear from your maniacal laugh.

"So what are you planning on doing now?" he asked, intrigued by your drunken laugh and honesty. "With Seungcheol."

You sent him an inquisitive look. "He told you something."

He sighed heavily and set aside his chopsticks again. "He didn't. But I'm not dumb and I know you two fuckers better than anyone else in the world."

Jeonghan was right, he was quick on reading you as well as Seungcheol.

"So are you back together?" he inquired.

You nodded.

"Do you still love him? After all this time?"

"I do," you frowned. "You know I didn't want to leave, right?"

"He told me something like that," he nodded. "Even if he didn't say a lot."

"Jeonghan," you placed a hand on top of his, drawing his gaze to yours. "I'm sorry for leaving with no explanation. I know I could've done things differently, and I'm sorry for not trying back then."

"You were dumb, I know. But I also know that you'll make things right," he pressed his lips in a comfy smile. "Everything's forgiven."

You smiled at that and he pulled you into a side hug and rubbed the back of your head briefly.

"You can start setting things straight by paying the bill," he laughed. "I'm kidding, 'mkidding!"

He laughed at the cold stare you sent him.

"Right, you're broke now so I should be treating you," he chuckled again.

"I'm not broke," you countered, toying with the hem of your shirt. "Well, just a bit."

"You'll be fine," he said soothingly.

"And how are you?" you asked, casting a glance upon the man you swore you'd be best friends with your whole life.

"I am alright," he shrugged, his eyes lost on the table below his arms. But you knew him like you knew yourself. He was avoidant, he didn't open up unless he was insisted to.

"I've seen that your company has grown a lot," you smiled with both hurt and pride. Pride for Jeonghan coming this far, hurt for not being there for him.

"Yeah, I've been doing well," he smiled shyly as he usually did, avoiding your gaze with a long blink of his eyes.

"Do you..." you inhaled deeply, and your pause was long enough for Jeonghan to search your eyes again. "Do you have someone special in your life now? Has someone finally worked up into Yoon Jeonghan's heart?"

Jeonghan looked hurt for a second before shaking his head. "Nah," he let out a characteristic low chuckle. "I gave up on that shit a while ago."

"Seriously?" you tried to give him a grin, but it failed when you saw that he did not respond to your expression well.

Jeonghan planted his elbow on the table to prop his head on his fist, the other hand pushing his plate aside. "If you knew how my fucking love life looks like right now," he laughed bitterly. "I don't know if this is the kind of conversation you want to have after years of not seeing each other."

Your heart deflated in your chest, causing some slight pain as you tried to recuperate yourself fast. "Tell me," you prompted. "I want to know everything I missed."

Jeonghan's eyes read your face, a downturned smile on his face as he pondered on your request.

"Jeonghan," you started, sliding a hand on the table to grab his own. "I haven't seen you in two years, or heard from you. I wanna know anything you have to tell me..."

He let out a deep sigh. "Okay," he conceded. "Although my life is not as crazy as yours, it has been a little... chaotic this past month."

"Pfft," you huffed. "I think it'll take a big, big scandalous thing to shock me."

Your best friend paused for a second, still reading your face with his big brown eyes before letting out with a shameful smile trying to break the features of his face. "Wow, you really missed out on so much," he realized for a second, now mustering some boldness before blurting: "I'm in love with my best friend's girlfriend."

For a second, you believed he might be trying to pull a prank on you. After all, you knew him as someone that likes to be a bit of a jester, to get the biggest reaction from you, in particular.

So you just stared him down in disbelief. "Be serious, Jeonghan."

"I'm being completely serious," he blinked slowly, the downturn smile turning into something sad, shameful even. "We might or might not have had sex a week ago."

"What?" you gasped, looking at the tables surrounding the one where you and Jeonghan sat. "Shouldn't you—shouldn't you tell your friend about this?"

"I don't have to tell him," he shrugged again, seemingly upon remembering something. "He knows about it. He knows everything. He was there too. Watched the whole thing."

"Hannie," your eyes were widened in bewilderment. "What the fuck?"

Jeonghan nodded, releasing a tired sigh that told you how emotionally worn he actually was. "He knows I love her. She doesn't," he bristled in pain, you noticed, the way that he blinked pausedly and the joints of his arms stiffened. "But I'm alright," he choked out, his fingers fidgeting with the edges of the table. "I will be fine."

"God, Jeonghan," you sighed, covering your mouth with a hand.

Jeonghan looked at you as if he were enjoying your reaction. "Is my love life more complicated than yours now?"

"Well..." you sucked in a breath in pause. "Would you believe me if I told you that I don't think so? What are you going to do now, Han?"

"I don't know," he laughed. "Try and forget about her. Try to make amends with my friend. Move on. Keep myself busy with work."

Your heart crushed when Jeonghan's gaze dropped to his lap, he breathed in through his nose, chest swelling slowly and you instantly knew that your best friend was hurting inside.

"Oh, Hannie," you sighed again, feeling his pain, knowing what he was going through perfectly.

"I'm alright," he insisted, but his pointed finger was scratching at an invisible spot on the table now. "I'll be fine. They'll be fine. Someday I'll be at their wedding and this will all be a thing to fucking laugh at."

You heard the hollow tone in his voice, the way his gaze darkened when it got lost in the void at his lap.

Your heart sank.

You were well aware of how that felt like. For many nights you wondered about Seungcheol when you were far away. With a tight pain in your heart you wondered if he had moved on. You wondered if he had fallen in love with someone else.

You wondered if he loved you still.

"Hey," you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It'll get better for you, Hannie. You'll be okay."

Jeonghan smiled, his knuckles still pushing his cheek in, making his smile twist. "I know," he muttered, meeting your hand with his own. "At least I have you back."

"And I have you," you smiled at him, and that made his gaze soften.

"Is it weird to be back with Seungcheol?" he asked, setting an elbow on the table to prop his head on his hand. "I mean, after all this time, you surely are not the same people. He's changed, and my guess is that you have changed too."

Jeonghan was right about that. Seungcheol had changed so much that sometimes you missed the spark you used to see in his eyes two years ago. The spark was there still, but it was rare to see now,

"It's weird, yeah. We are definitely not the same, and I think that the breakup made me more guarded, in a way. And as for Seungcheol..." you sighed, driving your gaze away from Jeonghan's face. "I think he is trying hard to get back to what he had before... but I don't know why I can't."

"Do you think that being away changed you?" he pouted slightly, his lower lip protruding out. "I mean, you two were very dependent on each other. And then you just weren't. That changes people."

You nodded in agreement. "It broke me to leave him behind," you whispered, taking your time to breathe in slowly to not break into tears. "You're right, I was really dependent on him, for years. And then I was single and in a totally different place. I had to relearn things about myself and I changed. I don't know if I can be the same as I was before."

"You don't have to," he shrugged, cocking his head further, still propped in one hand. "Seungcheol loves you. And yeah, he has changed a lot too, but I don't think that matters for you two."

"What do you mean?" you asked dumbly.

"I mean, you two are weird," he smiled shyly, showing his beautiful set of white teeth. "The kind that just clicks together, you know?"

"He wants me to move in with him," you blurted after some seconds of silence between you, only interrupted by the busy buzzing of the restaurant on a monday night.

"What do you want to do?" he asked with genuine curiosity, identifying that this was the thing troubling your mind the most.

"I don't know," you sighed. "I don't want to move too fast but. I like living alone, but I also want to be with him. I want to rebuild my life back with him but... I don't want to make a mistake again."

"Look," Jeonghan straightened up, setting his hands on the table again and leaned towards you looking at you straight in your eyes. "Fuck what anyone thinks, don't even listen to what I think if that's what you want. But, Seungcheol still loves you, even after all of the shit you put him through, he loves you. And wants to be with you. What more could you want?"

You remained silent, as you did not have any answers for that.

So he continued. "If I had an opportunity like that, I would take it. In a heartbeat."

"Jeonghan..." your chest deflated, but you instantly understood that this was painful to him, and he was dead serious about it.

"Sorry," he shook his head slightly and then smiled awkwardly at you. "Don't take my advice if you don't want to, again. I just think that you are thinking way too much about something that you want."

"Yeah, I might be," you sighed.

Jeonghan sighed, but you could see that he was gearing up to change the subject, leaning back on the seat to reach inside the pocket of his jeans, drawing out his wallet.

"Next time is on you," he nodded his head at you before calling for the bill.

"This is fancy," you giggled as you slided on the creamy colored seats of his BMW. "I like it."

"You know what," he huffed, tip of his tongue gliding between his lips. "I thought you would, when I bought it."

"You're lying," you gasped. "Really?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "I remembered you told me you liked this model. I got it a year ago."

"It's really nice," you smiled, looking around the leather seats. It smelled new.

Jeonghan winked at you, giving you a smile right before he ignited the engine, the soft purr of it making the features of your face change into awe.

"Nice," you repeated.

"Hehe."

He grabbed his vape pen from the cup holder, drawing a big gulp of smoke which he slowly exhaled from his nose.

"Oh, I see you quit alright," you chastised, enjoying the way a pang of guilt crossed his face, making him smile and chuckle goofily.

"Ah, but I did quit. For a time," he said as he turned the wheel, you noticed he quickly took the route to Seungcheol's, no questions asked. "But then you left, Cheol stopped speaking to me and it was either gambling or smoking. So I decided to quit gambling for good."

"That is a terrible excuse, Jeonghan," you giggled, negating with your head in disapproval. "But I'm glad you're not gambling anymore. I suppose that's progress."

"Yeah, but I run a gambling house, with your boyfriend," he tilted his head to one side, leaning his elbow on the middle console so he could rub the tips of his fingers on his chin. "Is he your ex, still? Or are you guys like, calling each other girlfriend and boyfriend again?"

"Huh," you huffed and tilted your head to. "I actually don't know. We haven't talked about it yet."

"Well, what do you two do, then?" he asked, shooting you a look and then quickly put: "No, no, you know what, don't answer that."

"What?" you blurted.

"I know you two only fucked once and decided to get back together, so don't even attempt to tell me that you aired out all of the shit you went through."

"We do talk, Jeonghan!" you squealed, trying to sound as outraged as you could. "We had a serious talk when we saw each other again."

The car came to a stop slowly before the red lights, which illuminated Jeonghan's face as he stared you down for a long second.

"Ok, we did fuck," you conceded after he narrowed his eyes at you. "But we also talked, Hannie."

"Oh, right," he giggled briefly. "So I'm taking you to your ex's place, then."

"Yeah, we're a mess," you nodded with a flat tone.

In the back of your mind, the memories of a healthy relationship floated in the vague background. Seungcheol and you just clicked, like Jeonghan said. Yes, you were codependent on each other, but at that time, neither of you cared.

It was a great relationship, with more highs than lows. More promises than deceptions. Seungcheol was your first love, and he was very much determined to be your last. And as soon as you saw how sure he was about you, you started to reciprocate. You missed that.

Now that you were changed, you wondered if you would handle everything differently. Because it was a very loving relationship. But the big fallacy was that he turned into your whole world.

Until the day that he was not.

"Hey," Jeonghan noticed your silent divagation, sending you looks in quick succession. "You'll work it out. Don't worry about it," he offered you a smile, pressing his lips together. "At least you didn't sleep with your best friend's girlfriend, right?"

"Jeonghan," you immediately gave him a look. "Self-deprecation is not your best look."

"Yeah, yeah," he dismissed with some hurt pride. "But you can't deny that it helps."

Seungcheol gave you a copy of his fob key, which you used right before stepping inside the elevator, where as soon as you were confined in its walls, started to think of the pleasant encounter with your former best friend.

You were sure that you could pick up your friendship with Jeonghan straight away, and now after being with him and catching up, you felt stupid for ever thinking that he would turn his back on you.

Thank you for today, Hannie. Felt nice to catch up. You wrote him before the elevator reached the second to last floor of the building with a soft ding.

You pay for next time! He replied as you walked out and into the hallway, making you smile at the phone screen when he added. Joking. But I also enjoyed it. Missed you.

You reached the door and stopped for a second to remember the passcode. Typing the numbers of your anniversary date felt somehow mind-splitting, much as if going back to the days when that date was the best day of every year for four years of your life.

"Babe?" you called as you crossed the door, catching some noise in the distance.

Seungcheol was walking down the hall as you peeked inside. "Hey, baby," he sighed with a pleased smile, bending down on his knees a little as he spread his arms wide.

You squealed briefly when he lifted you up from the floor, wrapping your body with his strong and beefy arms. "Hi there," you cooed, cupping his face with your hands.

"How did it go?" he asked, his eyes outlining the features of your face and then he showed you a broad smile. "Did you drink beer?"

"Oh, do I smell?" you tried to recoil, but Seungcheol leaned his face to press a kiss on your lips.

"Yeah," he giggled goofily, lowering your body back to the floor. But his hands quickly moved to grab your face. "Give me more of that," he muttered when you hummed against his kisses. "Kiss me."

"Let me go rinse first," you used your hands on his chest to push him, but unsurprisingly, he did not even budge.

"I don't care about that," you felt his lips stretch against yours in a smile. "Kiss me more."

"Seungcheol," you whined, but his hands were already helping his lips to bring you to submission. One hand gently placed beneath your chin and the other one circling to your lower back, pulling you closer to his warm body. "Mmn."

"How did it go?" he asked with a honeyed tone, pressing his lips repeatedly against yours capturing your lower lip between his, humming as he appeared to become more and more addicted to kissing you

"It was fine," you replied dryly, focused on getting more of his lips, his hands were sliding to your waist, fingers pinching the fabric of your pretty blouse to hike it up, so his hands could touch your skin now. "Cheol," you muttered between his lips.

"Yes," he replied, his hands gripping the sides of your waist, fingertips digging gently on your skin, using his grip to bring you close to him, his front pressed to your own.

"Can we–," a shaky sigh left your mouth when in a sudden move he bent down on his knees again, lifting your feet up and set you down on the nearest countertop of the kitchen.

"Yes, angel?" he egged you on, lifting his gaze to find your face, and he took a second to outline the features of your face with his starry eyes.

"Can we talk?" you muttered meekly, being eye to eye with him now you could return the gesture and trace the beautiful line of his cupid's bow with your eyes.

"Of course," he blinked, and in a second his entire demeanor switched to a more serious one. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," you sighed with a smile, biting your lower lip as you searched in your head for the right words to say.

Seungcheol pushed his thick eyebrows up. "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

You decided that there was no perfect way to speak your mind. Besides that, you trusted Seungcheol and you did not need to say things lightly with him.

"Did you date someone recently?" you asked, and wished your tone had sounded more certain. Instead, it sounded shaky, and tiny.

Seungcheol bristled initially, his eyes dimming and going over the features of your face swiftly. His lower lip trembled and you knew instantly that he was about to say something but stopped himself. He nodded. "Yes, I did. Three months ago," he choked out, but you knew he was being honest.

"I just wanted to know. You know, he haven't caught up with our lives recently," you explained and saw his features change and soften when he also noticed your tone quiver.

Your ex boyfriend leaned his head to one side, but did not deter his gaze from your face. "I didn't mention it because it was a brief thing. I didn't think that it would matter."

"You sure?" you mumbled, bringing up a hand to pinch his chin and his eyelids fluttered at your touch. "You know, I don't want us to jump into something if you still have some things to heal."

Seungcheol grabbed the hand that was still on his chin and pressed his lips on your fingers. "No, I know, baby. It just didn't work."

"Can I ask why?" you whispered, heart thumping wildly against your chest.

Seungcheol shrugged. "She wanted more," he closed his eyes for a second. "And I couldn't give it to her."

Your mouth parted but then you stopped yourself before you could prod more.

He noticed and decided to answer your unspoken question. "I just didn't feel it," he whispered. "I tried, but it wasn't honest. So I broke it off."

"Oh, Seungcheol," you breathed, heart deflating painfully and your eyes watered. "I'm sorry," you said solemnly.

"No, baby, this isn't your fault," he replied, his eyes had started to glisten slightly, but he kept them zeroed on your face. "I tried to move on from what you and I had, I healed and forgave you. This is different, the reason why it didn't work out with her has nothing to do with us."

"Really?" you asked but quickly put: "I just want to know that we're doing this right this time."

"We are, baby," he muttered warmly, head tilting to catch your gaze. "Is there something else you need to know?"

"No, I don't think so," you gathered your tears with the pads of your finger as you sniffled quietly. "I dated other people too. Didn't work either. I couldn't do it."

Seungcheol smiled, wrinkles appearing on the corners of his eyes. "Baby, you don't need to tell me any details, it's okay," he whispered, pressing his hands on your thighs, rubbing small circles to soothe you. "I assumed as much, and I'm glad that you did."

"Why?" you whispered.

"Because it tells me that you also tried to move on," he shrugged slightly, gulping hard and that told you that this was as difficult for him as it was for you. "Besides, you were in a different country, completely alone. I'm glad that you tried to seek company."

You nodded slowly, coming to terms with the fact that even though you and Seungcheol have changed, there was still something so strong pulling you together. It was not a love fueled by memories alone.

"Is there something you want to know?" you reverted the question back to him.

He shook his head briefly. "No, baby. Not right now," he paused and then, "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you pressed your lips in a small smile. "I'm just feeling a little emotional, that's all," you whispered.

"Did Jeonghan say something?" he asked, but the light frown on his face told you that he thought this to be highly unlikely.

You shook your head no. "Wonwoo told me," you sniffled and tried to hide a guilty smile. "I might've prodded a little bit more and found out something I wasn't ready to hear," you confessed, batting a shameful look at him.

Seungcheol leaned his head to the side even further. "Baby," he started in a reproachful manner. "Why didn't you just ask me?"

"There are some things I'm scared to ask you," you replied meekly.

"Is my dating life something you were scared to know more of?" he pushed his eyebrows, his lips pouting: "Why?"

"It may sound silly to you, but it feels weird to know that you were with someone else not long ago," you shrugged.

"It doesn't," he corrected, straightening up slightly, but his hands were planted still at the sides of your thighs, on the kitchen countertop. "If the tables were flipped, I too would feel something," he said with full certainty. "That's why I'm not asking about your past partners. I don't want to know more. I'm content with knowing that you weren't completely alone."

"I wasn't," you whispered, gaze losing focus over his shoulder, in your mind you recalled the times you felt utterly alone and lost. "Sometimes I felt like I was, but I made some friendships. Short-lived."

"I'm sorry," he whispered too, calling your eyes to his.

"Don't worry about it," you blurted, lip quivering uncontrollably when in a flashing thought, the weight of your guilt and regret crashed down on you.

"Come on, let's get to bed, okay?" he muttered softly, grabbing your hands after you nodded at him. "Here," he helped you down from the counter and kept one of your hands in his own as you made your way to his bedroom.

A somber feeling had fallen between you and Seungcheol. You did not need to ask, you knew that his mind was reeling, you knew that being deep in thought also meant that he had started to plan ahead.

So you waited. In silence, you changed into pyjamas, and did your bedtime routine as normal, keeping an eye on him randomly, trying not to make it obvious that you were aware that he was overthinking.

But maybe, you thought, he knew that too.

When you slid beneath the bed-sheets, he had already made it to his side of the bed, sheets and covers up to his waist, chest exposed and bare.

Immediately, as you laid your body down on the mattress, he outstretched an arm sliding it under you and curled it, so he was now wrapping you into a side hug, egging you to rest your head on his chest.

"You're okay, babe?" you asked timidly, eyeing him up and down to get anything that might tell you about his mood.

"I'm just thinking," Seungcheol replied gently.

"Oh," you paused. "What about?"

"About us," he sighed and took a hand to run his fingers through his blond hair. "I want to put your mind at ease. I don't want this to overwhelm you."

You lifted your head from his chest to look at his face fully. Seungcheol sent you a glance, waiting for your answer.

"I–," gulping hard, you stammered: "I j-just, this is happening fast but I want this, Cheol."

However, your response seemed to do the contrary for him. He looked conflicted for a split second, his frown deepening slightly, making a couple of lines show between his eyebrows. But then, he lifted one hand and pinched your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, making his gaze soften.

"Is there something else you're thinking?" you whispered, knowing that look on his face.

Seungcheol never spoke his deeper thoughts unless prompted. He was a man that kept his emotions safe, only voicing them out when the moment was appropriate.

He removed his fingers from your chin to push your hair and tucked it on one of your ears, the pressure of his fingers on the crook behind your ear making your skin tingle.

"Sometimes I wished that you found someone," he mumbled with a sleepy sigh. "Even if it hurt me to think that I'd never see you again, I never wanted you to be lonely."

Your heart contracted so painfully that you instinctively had to blink your pain away. "I wished that for you too," you replied through a shaky sob. "I wished for someone to treat you well, to love you."

"I had that, baby," he whispered, seemingly unable to speak any louder. "Probably not with a partner, but I kept close to my family."

"Did you ever try to find someone?" you prodded with more confidence now, but you still held your breath.

"No," he breathed, blinking pausedly. "I wanted to heal, to focus on my goals, so I put a pause on that."

You nodded slowly, but you could not yank your gaze from his big and dark eyes.

"You?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Yeah, I did," you replied with a shrinking feeling in your heart, making your voice sound tiny.

Seungcheol only stared at you for a long second, and you could almost hear the gears of his brain turning. You prepared for him to ask more, you thought of all the possible questions, and all the possible answers, lies and truths that you could give him.

After all, you did not want him to know how much you actually hurt while you were away. Even if you were buried with school work, there was an unbearable ache gripping your heart tightly every day, for months.

You tried everything to yank him out of your life like a thorn in your chest. From burying yourself with school-work, to partying every weekend, to seeking comfort in other partners.

"And did... you meet someone?" he finally asked, his tone sounded steady, but his rapid breathing betrayed him.

"I–," you choked out, clearing your voice you tried again: "I didn't," you replied with honesty. "They were all good people but I was the one that didn't make it work. After some time, I stopped dating."

The truth was, you were hurting. And you took that hurt everywhere you went, and sadly, you turned into something you never thought you would become and started hurting people.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, shifting his face on his pillow, as if nuzzling it slightly to remove the discomfort you knew he felt inside. Because you felt it too.

"Me too," you pressed your lips in a smile. "I was dumb, burdened with pain and guilt. I know that now."

"We both did things in the past," he said with some languor from his long day. "What matters is what we do from now on, right?"

"Right," you nodded once.

"I want to do right by you," he said, mustering some energy to look straight into your eyes. "I want us to grow together."

"That sounds good, Seungcheol," you whispered, tone quivering slightly. "I want that too."

"Are you sure?" he uttered, sounding so small that your heart faltered painfully. "

"I'm sure," you decided. "This is just a little hard for me," you confessed, ignoring the wild vibration in your chest.

"I know," he blinked slowly, his tone soft and breathy as he took in a deep breath, saying: "You have been hiding inside a shell for two years. I get it because I feel it too."

"I'm scared, Seungcheol," you conceded, and he nodded with his head.

"I'm scared too," he whispered. "But I want to help you, I want to be with you. I'm all in for you."

With a sigh, you closed the space between you on the bed, and Seungcheol was already wrapping you with both of his arms.

"We could take this step by step," he whispered after a long second of silence. The tips of his fingers had begun to trace shapeless lines on your arm. "Whatever you want to do, if you want to go fast or slow, I can do it. Just say the word, and I'm in."

"I just want to be with you right now. I don't want to think," you replied with a whisper, realizing that it had been some days since your last dive into searching for an apartment, or a room where you could move your stuff into.

You have grown comfortable with this for the past few days. Even though there was an anxiety about living with Seungcheol after everything that went down with you. You realized that you wanted more nights like this, sleeping soundly in his arms.

"I know, baby. But at some point, we need to come to a solution. I can wait but I also want reassurance."

You shifted once again to take a look at his face, beneath all the tiredness and conflict, he looked sincere.

"I'll give you time, baby."

You gave him a small smile. "Thank you, babe."

Maybe Jeonghan was right. Your thoughts were getting in your way.

"Move aside," you whined holding a heavy tray loaded with clean jars.

"Na-ah, you know the conditions," Jeon Wonwoo shook his head slowly, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Fuck your conditions, Wonwoo. This is heavy!" you squealed dramatically.

"I've seen you carry twice the weight of that," he pointed a finger to the tray in your arms.

"Ah, it's slipping off, come on!" you gasped, your arms about to give out.

"Tsk, you–," Wonwoo chuckled briefly but came to your aid quickly, grabbing the tray from your arms before you dropped it to the ground.

"You know what," Seungcheol announced, breaking the stare down contest between you and Wonwoo. "I'll handle the bar, since you two can't seem to stop fighting."

You turned on your feet to find Seungcheol going under the bartop, his hair ruffling slightly before he pushed it back with a large hand. "You'll have the tables tonight, okay?" he told Wonwoo.

"Me?" the recused arched his eyebrows, a finger pointing at his chest.

"Yes, you, Jeon Wonwoo," he snapped, nodding his head once sharply at the tables. "And you, stop distracting him."

"S-sorry boss," you stammered awkwardly, raising your eyes to find his big dark ones. You knew that the scolding was not as heavy handed just by the way that he sounded, he tried to mask a smirk by running the tip of his tongue on his upper teeth.

"Go," he ordered impatiently. "We'll open when you're ready," Seungcheol informed him as he passed by.

"You didn't have to be an asshole," you whispered, eyes raised to find his.

"Why not, it's fun to be the asshole the guys paint me as sometimes," he shrugged, now smiling deviously as he lowered his gaze to your body. "Besides, you can't blame me for wanting to be beside you."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Y-you did that just so you could be close to me?" you shook your head swiftly, snapping into realization. "Really?"

"Like I said," he took a step back, squaring his shoulders when he noticed Wonwoo glancing towards you and Seungcheol. "It'll be fun," he mumbled, trying to be subtle but you did not miss the way that one of the corners of his mouth curved up slightly.

"Right," you muttered, feeling flustered already.

Working with Seungcheol must be difficult, you imagined that it must be difficult to stay away or to not look his way every time he passes by. He is incredibly attractive, every movement he performed was eye-catching.

Now, him being your ex only added to this level of frustration that you felt already.

Seungcheol smirked at you after you huffed loudly.

He had been teasing you at every chance he could get. Every time he passed behind you, his hand somehow found your ass, patting it slightly—or hard. Depending on the given chance.

He also sent you suggestive glances, when he had the chance to and knowing no one was looking his way, he would lean back against the countertop and check you out, crossing his arms and tilting his head to one side.

"Boss," you hissed, eyes flaring at him alarmingly. "Behave."

Seungcheol chuckled, the sound of his laughter traveling across the bar, drawing some curious eyes to him.

"Okay, okay," he muttered and turned to take one of the orders that the printer had just sent.

Seungcheol had decided to wear some tight black denim jeans that hugged his ass just right. And every time he walked off, you just had to sneak a discrete look.

That gave you some pause. At that moment, you concocted a small plan to retaliate. If he thought that he could tease you all he wanted in the workspace, then you could too.

So firing back, you took every single opportunity you had to brush shoulders with him, sparking his curiosity at first. He just arched one eyebrow at you, but did not catch your intentions to draw his attention to you.

That was, until you started to do some more suggestive things, such as shooting looks at him, placing a hand on his back every time you had to reach for something from his side of the bar. Sometimes you would let your hand fall languidly, bumping with his ass.

"Stop it now," he whispered the third time you did this.

"Stop what, boss?" you inquired, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Whatever it is you think you're doing," he huffed, but a smile appeared on his lips.

"I'm not doing anything," you replied, making him frown slightly at you.

"Right," he cocked his head sideways.

"Maybe you're imagining things, baby," you mumbled, smiling sweetly at him before leaning against the countertop of the bar, nearly bending over completely.

A sly smirk appeared on his face, crossing his arms once again to lean against the countertop to check you out freely and for a second you thought he was being way too obvious.

But no, it appeared that you were in your own world. Everyone else kept busy with their tasks, and the guests did not even pay a second look towards Seungcheol or you this time.

This was fun, you decided.

". . . and that, according to him, is a Freudian slip, but I think he is just making things up," you rambled aimlessly for minutes, now fully aware that Seungcheol was not completely in the conversation anymore, no matter how much you tried to drive his attention back to what you were talking about before.

"Mm-mmph," he nodded, pushing his eyebrows up ever so slightly. "Right."

"Boss?" you called with some caution, but a small smile curved your lips. "Focus."

You leaned back against the countertop, facing him as he enclosed the space between you in a disclosed manner, your thigh brushing his.

"You started this," he said, gripping the edge of the countertop with both hands, he ran his tongue on his front teeth, eyes set on the rest of the establishment behind you.

"Started what?" you crossed your arms by your tummy, hands on your elbows.

"The teasing, the name calling, I can go on and on," he replied with a tight jaw, still not looking at you.

"Please do," you challenged with a confident smirk. "To me it sounds like I didn't do much."

"Oh no, yeah, you're still doing it," one eyebrow cocked up and now his eyes zeroed on your face. "Bending over the counter, wearing those fucking shorts," he let out a huff and clicked his tongue.

"I didn't start anything, you did," you shrugged, a smile on your face, seeing how conflicted Seungcheol was.

"Mmn," he hummed in faux contempt, nodding his blond head slowly and finished pushing the tip of his tongue on the inside of his cheek with a smacking sound.

And then, with the stealth that you have known him to own, he fished out for one of your hands, guiding it to his crotch. Your eyes shot up, but you attempted to make absolutely no move. Limbs froze, all except the hand on the hardened bulge beneath his black denim jeans.

Seungcheol, it seemed, had frozen too after releasing his grip on your hand, knowing full well that you would take your chance and palm his growing erection over the fabric of his clothes.

His eyebrow jumped up slightly when your fingers found the outline of his cock, making an up and down motion, losing some discretion.

It had been a while since you had done something so daring as groping in public, and something told you that this was the case for Seungcheol too. His chest had begun to rise and fall agitatedly, eyes set on the surroundings in caution.

"Fuck it," he breathed, dropping his hands from the edge of the countertop, stepping back from it, and from you. Your hand fell off his crotch, and your gaze flew to find his flustered face. Seungcheol ruffled his blond hair with one hand, eyebrows pushed up. "See me in the storeroom," he muttered as he walked off from you.

You knew you were in trouble.

"Cover me?" you asked Wonwoo who was passing through the emptied tables and found you frozen behind the bartop.

"Sure," he nodded, a frown appearing on his face. "Everything alright?" he asked as he went around the bar and stood beside you swiftly.

"Yeah, I gotta–," you cut yourself off when you could not think of a good enough excuse. "I'll be back in five!"

Wonwoo pressed his lips in a line, looking bewildered. "Suuure."

You dashed through the backdoor, pushing it open with a force you were not sure where it came from. But you were certain that the exhilaration coursing through you made you stupid enough to stop considering that you were at your workspace.

But yet again, it seemed that Seungcheol did not care either.

As soon as you started turning the doorknob, it was yanked from the inside, a hand grabbing your wrist and thrusting you against his body. In one swift move, Seungcheol had closed the door behind you and pushed you back against it.

"What're you–," you were quickly shut with a hard kiss on your lips, that soon turned heated, desperate.

"We'll have to do this quick," he hissed against your lips, and just when you were about to ask, you felt his fingers searching the hem of your shorts, finding the button to undo it with a hard tug. "Turn around."

Facing the door now, your fingers hooked on the waistband of your shorts and panties, pushing them down for him to finish moving them down just below your ass.

"Good girl," Seungcheol whispered and you heard the metal clinking of his belt, the sound letting you know his following movements. So you instantly arched your back, angling yourself for him and planting your hands flat on the door in front of you for support.

"Seungcheol," your fingertips tried digging into the hard wood when you felt a hand on your hip, pad of his thumb pressing on the soft skin of your glute. "Hurry."

"Shh," he giggled quietly, and you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him.

Seungcheol noticed your eyes on him, and held your gaze for a second before grabbing his throbbing cock in one hand, first around the bulbous, dripping in precum cockhead, pointer finger lifted up to search for your wet folds so he could guide his cock right inside you.

You pressed your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes shut. "Fuck, daddy," you whined softly, ever so quietly you think for a second he wouldn't hear it over the loud music out in the bar. "Fuck, fuck," you grit your teeth when he started to ease himself inside you, the girth of his cock stretching your wet walls open, making you stifle a sigh at the delicious bite.

"God, baby, you take it so well," he praised in your ear, dragging his cock out, and then pushing in slowly at first. "So good for me."

You let out a puffy breath as his other hand encircled your waist right before he retracted his hips, and then pushed them with fast thrusts. The pace was now calculated, and fast, nearly brutal, you knew you had to make this good for him.

"Quiet," he rasped when you sighed a moan out, fingertips raking on the door in front of you now, trying to apply as much pressure to avoid bumping your head against it.

"It feels good," you replied with a whiny tone.

"Do you want me to make you come?" he asked and sighed a smile when you nodded with your head yes in frantic movements. "Arch your back for me, baby."

You instantly bent forward, angling your ass for him, his hand moved to the small of your back, applying pressure and gripping your hip with his other hand before he started plowing on you.

"Fuck," you gritted out, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you saw stars and colors. "Daddy, don't stop, please," you whined when his cock reached a very sensitive spot deep inside you with his hard and fast thrusts.

"That's it, baby," he sighed and let out a tiny groan. "Do you want me to pull out?"

His hand slid from your lower back, pushing your tank top up your back but stopped instantly when you shook your head no.

"I want you to come first," he whispered but with some urgency. The sound of him swallowing a raspy moan sent a frenzied shudder down your spine. "Come for me, baby."

One of your hands travelled down between your legs, finding your throbbing clit with your fingertips and immediately started rubbing fast swirls around it, crying out helplessly as pleasure bloomed from your pussy to your limbs.

"Good fucking girl," he growled when you succumbed to your fast orgasm. "F-fuck," he forced out using his hands on your hips to fuck you into him, sliding your throbbing walls on his cock slowly as he came with you.

He pushed his front flush against your ass with a long exhale. "Fuck," he groaned. "Don't move, baby. I'm pulling out."

You shuddered hard when you felt him slip out of you and your hand immediately slid between your legs to cup the warm cum dripping out of you.

"Here," he said, offering you a paper towel. "I should go out before the boys find us like this."

"Yeah," you laughed shamefully.

His eyes read your face swiftly. "Why are you laughing?"

"It would be funny," you muttered offhandedly, cleaning your hand.

"No. I'd never live that off with those two," he tilted his head to one side. "Besides, I thought you didn't want them to know."

"I'll take care of this in the washroom," you cocked your head to the door. "Go, boss."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't make it obvious, then," he smirked but left the storeroom shortly after when you were fixing your clothes.

After cleaning yourself up in the washroom, you were returning to the boys already closing up the place. Your heart sank, but as you crossed the space, Seungcheol sent you a quiet glance from the booth where he usually accounted for the day's profit.

"You took long enough," Wonwoo chastised but then gave you an inquisitive look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you sighed, placing your hands on your hips to show some certainty. "Sorry. Thank you for covering me though."

"I'm almost finished with this side," he said without studying your flushed face. "Just close up the tables with Mings, yeah?"

"Okay," you nodded, turning away from his gaze but swearing you could still feel it in the back of your head as you walked up to the tables to clean them up and put the chairs up.

Mingyu kept a speedy gait around you, seemingly focused on finishing the shift as soon as possible. He did not even hum to a tune as he regularly did, but you saw it in his face, he was in a good mood.

"You're alright there?" you asked, watching him move through the place like a man on a mission.

"Got a date," he muttered, and then shook his head when you pushed your eyebrows up in question. "It's not romantic—she's a friend."

"She?" you pushed, grinning. "A friend, huh?"

"And waiting for me," Mingyu nodded. "Come on, let's go early tonight, yeah?"

"O-okay," you giggled teasingly, lifting one chair up and putting it on the recently cleaned table, then you put the rest of the chairs up and moved to the next table to clean its surface.

"Let me," a low voice came from behind you when you bent down to grab one chair.

You sucked in a breath, and turned to see Seungcheol, whose face lit up in the tiniest of smiles that reached his eyes.

"I should stop doing that," he whispered at you, referring to surprising you often.

"Yeah, or maybe I should be more aware of my surroundings," you muttered, looking at his big dark eyes.

"Maybe," his smile grew, wrinkling the outer corners of his eyes. He grabbed one chair and put it up. "I got these, move to the next table."

"You got it, boss," you smiled at him cheekily.

A sharp, loud gasp came from behind the countertop, paired with a hard slam of Wonwoo's hand down on it.

You turned to see the man, standing aghast with his mouth hanging open.

"Hyung?" Mingyu asked with a worried tone.

The three of you looked at him, and it suddenly dawned on you: he had been watching your interaction with Seungcheol from the moment they exchanged tasks in the bar. And you had been too stupid to ignore his inquisitive eyes.

"You're her," he blurted out with a start then blinked, as if snapping himself to reality. "You're–,"

"Wonwoo–," Seungcheol warned immediately.

"No, it's okay," you interjected, from the look on his face, you knew that there was no way you could lie yourself out of this. He had found you out. "You're right."

His mouth fell open again, bringing a hand to cover his mouth.

"I'm so incredibly lost," Mingyu huffed, scratching the crown of his head, tilting it sideways. "What's happening?"

Neither Wonwoo or Seungcheol spoke, but you noticed the way they both exchanged a look. And that was something you could not deny, was that the three men had developed a partnership—a friendship so strong that they simply trusted one another.

"I'm his ex," you explained after some quick thinking, deciding that there was no better way to say it.

"Whose ex?" Mingyu exclaimed, looking at Seungcheol, then at Wonwoo.

"We didn't say anything because it was my decision to keep it private but," you shrugged then looked at Wonwoo, whose shocked expression had not left his face. "You found out before."

"What?" Mingyu asked, voice rising even higher and blinked. "You're boss's ex?! The ex?"

Seungcheol brought a hand to his own face with a smack. "Mingyu, please–,"

"Yes, that ex," you rolled your eyes awkwardly.

"Wow," Mingyu huffed, turning to his housemate. "How?"

"The questions, boss's mood swings, and now," Wonwoo pointed, shooting a knowing look at you both.

You pressed your lips in a hard line. "Yeah, I might've been a bit too obvious," you turned to Seungcheol, asking for some help in the situation.

"Guys, I know that this topic of conversation has been... quite the fuss in here, so let me just put you both on the same page," he exchanged one glance with you, and proceeded after you nodded your head. "We were in a relationship before, some years ago. And I'm no stranger to the speculation, but no, there is no resentment between us."

"Because you got back together," Mingyu read the situation as fast as his housemate. "That's why you've been happy lately, boss."

Seungcheol grew quiet, it seemed that he had not expected to be told that. But after some seconds passed, you were about to intervene when he nodded. "Yes. We got back together," he said firmly.

"This is the friend you were referring to?" Wonwoo exclaimed with a hollow laugh. "That's not a friend, that's–,"

"Wonwoo!" you exclaimed, feeling partly elated that Wonwoo shifted from his initial shock and was teasing you in a friendly way.

"What are you talking about?" Seungcheol asked.

"Nothing," Wonwoo pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, but the cheeky smile on his lips told you he knew the answer already.

"Mmph," Mingyu huffed once again, bobbing his head once and then turned to resume working. "Who would've thought?"

"Small world," Wonwoo conceded, palming the countertop gently now. "You were bad at hiding it. Both of you."

"What, no we weren't," Seungcheol countered but you knew that it was a lost cause.

"You were both in the back just now–," Mingyu realized and his mouth too, fell open with a very dramatic gasp: "On the clock, boss?! You two have no decorum!"

"Mingyu!" you squealed but he just chuckled, shaking his head in reproach but continued working nonetheless.

"And here I thought you were kinda haughty, newbs," Mingyu laughed harder at your aghast expression. "Tut, tut, tut, naughty-naughty, both of you."

"Mings, cut it off," Wonwoo advised, shooting a look at Seungcheol.

The tips of his ears were read, but that did not distract you from the hard and cold look he was giving to Mingyu. "Yah," he started, sizing him up.

"Hehe," Mingyu chuckled and then he turned to you. "Ah, so that is how you knew Jeonghan-hyung."

"He's my friend too," you nodded, staring at Wonwoo as you too, decided to keep cleaning up the tables.

"Oh, I see," Mingyu said knowingly. "Huh. Small world," he reaffirmed as well.

The ride back home was full of glances between you and Seungcheol, you could tell he was happy, keeping his hand parked on your thigh as the other gripped the steering wheel.

Your own hand was on his nape, fingers twisting in his blond hair affectionately. You remembered the times you did this routinely, so much so that it became something you did almost absentmindedly.

As you came back home, Seungcheol grabbed you by the hand, yanking you towards him and grabbing you by the chin to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

"Come here," he whispered, keeping his hand on your chin as he kissed you heatedly. The other hand finding the button of your shorts, undressing you as you both made your way to the shower.

In the shower, you were completely enthralled by the love in his starry eyes, he kept kissing you, nearly not letting you wash for two seconds without having a kiss either on your cheeks, forehead or anywhere he could reach.

"I'll be right there," he muttered with a pleased look on his face when you stepped out of the shower.

After putting up your sleepwear, you decided to go look for something to eat, only to find nothing but a fridge nearly vacant to the exception of some cans of beer.

So. You've been found out. Jeonghan's text message read on your screen. You smiled in shame, but decided to reply to him the following morning when you heard Seungcheol's steps approaching from the hallway.

"Fridge is empty," you reported with a croaky tone from the tiredness consuming your body slowly.

"Do you want to go get something at the mini-mart?" Seungcheol asked as he walked to the open kitchen and up to you, encircling you with his arms, snuggling you close to his body.

You knew Seungcheol was not the greatest cook, and the memory of the times when he tried to cook for you had you smiling fondly at him for a second.

"Yeah, I don't really get groceries anymore," he shrugged slightly, thinking your smile was an accusatory one. "Rather order something or eat in a restaurant. Or in the bar."

"Mmmn," you drew in a breath, mustering up some courage as you spoke out your decision: "Well, if I'm going to live here with you, we gotta fix that, babe," you muttered softly, drawing his big, dark eyes to you. "We could go buy some groceries tomorrow morning."

Seungcheol pushed his eyebrows up, reading your face with his big eyes. "So you've made up your mind about this?" he inquired, his tone low and you could see how nerve inducing the topic of conversation was to him.

You nodded silently, biting your smile and grabbing with your hands his forearms that were parked on your tummy. "I think I'm going to give up the apartment search.," you whispered. "Is the offer of moving in with you still up?"

He blinked twice, as if he were jolting awake to reality. "Of course, love," he nodded, emitting a sigh through his parted red lips. "There's nothing I want more."

"Oh, yeah?" you replied. "Nothing else?"

"Well, there might be one other thing," he shrugged ever so slightly, small dimples showing on his cheeks when he showed you a joyful smile. "I don't want to be your ex anymore."

"Well, you just gotta fix that, don't you?" you grinned, looking up and down from his eyes to his smiling lips.

"Be my girlfriend," he muttered, using his fingers under your jaw to join his lips with yours. "Please."

"I'd be more than happy to," you whispered, finally giving yourself in, letting go of your fears.

✧ author's note: i want to apologize for making you wait for so looooong, i took my time and i am sorry

but thank you for everyone who waited for the update! and the ones who came to my askbox to ask about this fic, thank you for keeping it alive! 🩵

this fic is close to my heart, i literally poured my heart in chapter 3, writing about stuff that hit close to home i think that induced me into a writing slump because i couldn't find my way out and write? idk haha

✧ note 2: this is not proofread i'm sorry

✧ READ THE DRABBLE AND STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 5 ✧ JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

© TO HANNIEWEEN — I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[serejae]

BOUND 2 FALLING IN LOVE | HHU

pairing : hhu x reader

WHAT ! - cute tropes that i think make you and the hhu bounded (based on a tiktok trend a while ago)

warnings : relationshippy stuff T-T

s.coups - someone who always speaks up for his beliefs & someone who doesnt speak up for themselves

BOUND 2 FALLING IN LOVE

seungcheol was a stubborn man, once he sets his opinion on something hes not changing his mind until you fully convince him (which takes forever). so when he realized that you didnt really like confrontation he understood that and didnt want to pressure you into anything but would do it for you

if the waiter got your order wrong (he orders for you) instead of you accepting whats been given to you, he’ll call back the waiter for them to fix it. speaking of ordering for you, he’ll definitely know what you want based on what you like but always makes sure and double checks with you then orders it. if your order was specific, hes got it, and no need to be ashamed he will hold up the line no hesitation for you to get what you want

seungcheol will always be your voice if you need him to be

wonwoo - someone who carries in video games & someone who sucks at them

BOUND 2 FALLING IN LOVE

now whenever wonwoo plays with you, as soon as he sees “YOUR TEAMMATE IS DOWN” notification pop up on his screen to not take it as seriously as he did before. as soon as the message shows up he just shakes his head and smiles running back to revive you even if hes being aimed at

wonwoos lips curl up to a smile each time he hears you rage, whether when playing with you or not. if hes with you playing, he’ll let out a little “its okay” or if hes in the living room scrolling on his phone or reading he’ll walk over to where youre playing and hug you or put his hands over yours and guide you to win.

(wonwoo would def let you play on his account even if you make him lose his ranks)

mingyu - golden retriever & black cat

BOUND 2 FALLING IN LOVE

i believe every black cat needs their golden retriever. some days mingyu needs someone to calm him and some days you need someone to recharge you. hes always following you, just curious of what youre doing, even if youre doing the most mundane thing he just likes hanging around you.

his number one hobby is annoying you, he will repeat the same sentence 28 times to make sure you heard it and will only stop if you coo him. on those days you do want to be alone or accidentally snap on him he wont get mad at you, he’ll remind you hes there for you and leave you alone. definitely sulks but isnt mad at you, when you finally come back youre getting smothered but makes up for lost time

woof woof meow meow (i have no side note for this)

vernon - listener & yapper

BOUND 2 FALLING IN LOVE

vernon loves coming home to you. he loves knowing that theres gonna be a new ‘episode’ to his very own podcast. everyday you have a new story and the same listener, so as soon as he gets out of work, he speeds home and quickly freshens up before laying next to you in the bed with his head resting on your shoulder as you talk.

he loves hearing about your new fixation, new work drama, or just about you. and dont let his looks fool you, he listens very well. if you were packing for a trip you talked about a week ago and forgot what you needed to pack the most he automatically reminds you. he never forgets anything you tell him and never will as long as it comes out of your mouth

(he has a little notes app of the things you tell him :’-()