#scoups x reader

[hoshifighting]

Hello honeeey.

Can i request something? That's being going in my mind and i thought you be perfect for this... i wanted to ask for a first time with Seungcheol... like no the first time ever but the first time with him.

Like new relationship, a lot of previous teasing but he has being waiting for you to make the first step and stuff.

Pleaseeeee, i love your work, kisseeees💗

first time having sex with seungcheol in a new relationship

WARNINGS: smut, new established relationship, fingering, penetrative sex, hair pull

a/n: hiii my dear!! thank you for the request, I hope you like it <333 sorr ab how late is this going, but I can use this excuse for a chirstmas gift....? 🥺 love youuu!!!

he knows he’s about to ruin you but doesn’t feel the need to announce it.

you’ve both been circling around this moment for weeks—every touch lingering longer than it should, every kiss dipping into field that leaves you squirming. now you’re here, and he’s leaning over you with that smug, lopsided grin, looking like he’s been waiting for this exact second his entire life.

“been thinkin’ about this,” he mutters, lips brushing your jaw, his hands already sliding under your shirt. and yeaaaah, maybe you’ve been thinking about it too, but you’re not about to stroke his ego like that.

his mouth is warm, soft, leaving a trail down your neck that makes your toes curl. but it’s his hands... that really mess with your head. they’re big and rough, and its so good! its like he plays a 3 hour long documentary about womens anatomy in his head, to make it all perfect. and you’re not even sure if it’s intentional at first, the way his thumb brushes your ribs before dragging along your waistline is making you loose your cool.

“you good?”

“mhmm..”

he’s pulling your clothes off slow, his eyes flick up to yours when he hooks his fingers into your waistband, waiting for the nod before tugging it all down.

then, he pauses—just for a second, but it’s enough to notice. like he’s recalibrating, trying to balance his usual cocky self with something more reserved. you swear there’s a flicker of nervousness there, but it’s gone before you can really clock it.

and then his mouth is on your thigh, pressing soft kisses that turn into teasing bites. “you’re so fucking pretty,” he says, his voice wrecked, like he’s the one losing his serenity.

when he slides two fingers in, he tries to be soft to stretch you properly for his cock, without making it burn, curling in a way that makes you moan loud for the first time. “like that?” he asks, smirking when you moan in response. he’s watching everything, adjusting the angle, the pace, until you’re arching off the bed.

“so sensitive...” like he’s proud of the way you’re squirming under him.

but seungcheol’s not about to let you get too comfortable. just when you’re about to cum, he pulls his fingers out, grinning at the whine you let out. “don’t worry, baby,” he says, kissing the inside of your knee, “i’ve got you.”

and when he finally presses into you, he doesnt know if he should be sexy and shameless, or be more reserved in case he cums on the first slide. so he starts slow, letting you adjust before picking up the pace.

you swear he’s holding back at first, keeping it steady even when you’re begging for more. but then you pull him down by the hair, whispering something filthy in his ear—things that he was CRAVING for you to say, that’s all it takes for him to snap.

“fuck,” he growls, his grip tightening as his thrusts get rougher, deeper. but just when you think he’s going to completely wreck you, he slows down again, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. he pulls—just enough to tilt your head back—and kisses you hard, like he’s staking a claim.

“thought about this for so long,” he says, his voice rough, his movements still slow. “you don’t even know.”

you didn’t know he could be like this—rough and tender, cocky and careful, all at once. but now you’re here, and he’s everywhere, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to think about anything else. he’s determined, you can tell. determined to make you remember every single moment, every touch, every kiss, every thrust. and when you finally cum, he’s right there with you, holding you until you frown, because you two are definitely sweating.

[scoupsakakitty]

More than Friends | idol!Scoups x reader | angst,fluff

The dorm buzzed with energy, laughter bouncing off the walls as the members sprawled across couches and bean bags, arguing about what movie to watch next. Y/N sat cross-legged on the carpet, her back leaning against the edge of the couch, where Seungcheol lounged comfortably.

He was laughing at something Wonwoo said, his head tipped back, eyes crinkled at the corners in that way that made Y/N’s heart skip. She quickly looked away, pretending to focus on the half-empty bowl of popcorn in her lap.

It wasn’t the first time she’d caught herself staring. And if Jeonghan’s knowing glances were anything to go by, it definitely wasn’t the first time someone else had noticed.

“Are you seriously just going to keep sitting there and pretending like you’re not in love with him?” Jeonghan’s voice was low as he leaned closer.

Y/N stiffened. “Would you keep your voice down?”

Jeonghan smirked. “They’re too busy arguing about movies to hear me.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Y/N.” Jeonghan’s voice softened, and she hated how easily he could see right through her. “You need to tell him.”

She shook her head, pretending to be more interested in the popcorn than the way Seungcheol’s laugh sent butterflies through her stomach. “It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple.”

“No, it’s not,” she whispered sharply. “We’ve been friends for over ten years, Jeonghan. What if I tell him and it ruins everything? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

Jeonghan gave her a look. “You don’t know that.”

But she did. Or at least she thought she did.

Before Jeonghan could press further, Seungkwan’s voice cut through the noise.

“Y/N, how do you even put up with Cheol all the time? Ten years? I’d lose my mind.”

Y/N forced a laugh. “We’re used to each other by now.”

“That’s not an answer,” Seungkwan teased.

Seungcheol leaned back, smirking. “She’s stuck with me, that’s why. We’re basically unbreakable.”

“Exactly,” Y/N said quickly, ignoring the heat rising in her cheeks. “He’s my best friend.”

Her heart sank the moment the words left her mouth.

Seungcheol grinned, completely unfazed. “See? Best friends.”

The words shouldn’t have hurt, but they did. And judging by the way Jeonghan’s gaze flickered toward her, he knew it too.

She tried to laugh along with the others, but something inside her shifted.

Maybe it was time to move on.

————————————————————————————-

Two weeks later, Y/N was seeing someone new.

His name was Minho. He worked in event planning, and he was charming, funny, and most importantly interested in her. When he’d asked her out, it felt like the universe giving her a push, so she said yes.

It was easy at first. Minho made her laugh and distracted her from the ache in her chest whenever she thought about Seungcheol.

But the more time she spent with Minho, the less time she had for Seungcheol.

And Seungcheol noticed.

“Where’s Y/N?”

It was the third time Seungcheol had asked that question in a week, and Jeonghan was starting to lose patience.

“She’s busy,” Jeonghan said, not even looking up from his phone. “Probably with Minho.”

Seungcheol’s jaw tensed.

“What’s so great about him anyway?”

Joshua raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know him.”

“I don’t need to know him to know he’s not right for her.”

Jeonghan finally looked up, his expression carefully neutral. “And what makes you think that?”

Seungcheol hesitated, but before he could answer, Mingyu snickered from across the room.

“Dude, just admit it. You’re jealous.”

Seungcheol glared at him. “I’m not jealous.”

“Sure,” Vernon muttered under his breath.

“I’m not!”

Jeonghan set his phone down and crossed his arms. “Okay, then what’s the problem?”

Seungcheol opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t know how to explain it. All he knew was that every time he saw Y/N with Minho, something inside him twisted painfully, and it wouldn’t go away.

“You’re all acting like this is normal,” he snapped, shoving himself off the couch. “But it’s not. She barely knows him, and now she’s acting like—like he’s more important than everything else.”

“Like he’s more important than you?” Jeonghan asked quietly.

Seungcheol froze.

“Cheol,” Joshua said, his voice softer now, “you need to figure out why this is bothering you so much.”

Seungcheol didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out.

————————————————————————————-

The night air was cool against his skin as he stepped outside, but it did nothing to calm the storm in his chest.

What was wrong with him?

Why did it feel like his entire world was falling apart just because Y/N was dating someone?

He paced back and forth, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to make sense of the mess in his head.

“Seungcheol.”

He turned to see Jeonghan standing behind him, hands in his pockets and an annoyingly calm expression on his face.

“What?” Seungcheol snapped.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

Jeonghan stepped closer. “You’re an idiot,” he repeated. “And you know why? Because you’re acting like you have some kind of right to be mad at her when you’re the one who’s been too scared to do anything about your feelings.”

Seungcheol flinched.

“You love her.” Jeonghan’s words hit him like a punch. “And instead of telling her that, you’ve spent years pretending you don’t. Now she’s finally trying to move on, and you’re mad? That’s not fair, Cheol.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out.

Because Jeonghan was right.

He loved her.

And he’d been too blind or too scared to admit it.

“She loved you first, you know,” Jeonghan said quietly. “She’s loved you for years. But you kept pushing her away without even realizing it. So don’t stand here acting like she betrayed you when you’re the one who let her slip through your fingers.”

Seungcheol felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Fix it,” Jeonghan said, turning to walk away. “Before it’s too late.”

————————————————————————————-

Seungcheol didn’t sleep that night. He spent hours replaying every moment, every look, every touch—and suddenly, it all made sense.

The way she’d always been there for him. The way her smile softened when she looked at him. The way she laughed at his dumb jokes even when no one else did.

She loved him.

And he loved her too.

Now he just had to make sure she knew it.

————————————————————————————-

The practice room was loud, the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the floor and beats thumping through the speakers filling the space. But Seungcheol wasn’t paying attention.

His movements were sharp, almost aggressive as he led the group through their choreography, pushing harder than usual. He needed the distraction. He needed to drown out the thoughts that had been chasing him since his conversation with Jeonghan the night before.

She loved him. She’d always loved him.

And he’d been too scared to see it.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Seungkwan’s voice snapped him out of his daze.

“What?”

“You’ve been off all morning,” Seungkwan said. “And honestly, you kind of look like you’re about to punch someone.”

Seungcheol exhaled, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m fine.”

But then Mingyu’s voice rang out from across the room.

“Guys, did you hear? Y/N’s going on vacation!”

Seungcheol froze.

“With Minho,” Mingyu added, oblivious to the way Seungcheol’s entire body tensed. “Apparently it’s super last minute. She told me this morning.”

“What?” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp enough to make everyone stop and stare.

“She and Minho are flying out tomorrow,” Mingyu said. “Some beach resort or something.”

The room went completely silent as eleven pairs of eyes turned to Seungcheol, who looked like he’d just been punched in the gut.

Then chaos erupted.

“WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE?!” Seungkwan shouted.

“GO TO HER!” Vernon added, shoving Seungcheol toward the door.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!”

Jeonghan didn’t say anything. He just crossed his arms and gave Seungcheol a look that said, You know what you have to do.

Seungcheol didn’t need to be told twice.

————————————————————————————-

His heart felt like it was going to explode as he stood outside her apartment door, his fist hovering just inches away from knocking.

What if he was too late?

What if she’d already left?

What if—

The door opened.

“Seungcheol?” Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

She was dressed casually shorts and an oversized t-shirt but there was a suitcase by the door, and the sight of it made his stomach drop.

“You’re really leaving?”

She blinked. “What?”

“With Minho. Tomorrow.”

Her brows furrowed. “How did you—”

“Mingyu told me,” he cut in.

She sighed, stepping back to let him in. “It’s not a big deal, Cheol. It’s just a trip.”

“It is a big deal,” he said, his voice rising slightly. “You’re leaving with him. And I can’t—” He stopped, raking a hand through his hair. “I can’t let you do this.”

She stared at him, confused and a little defensive. “What do you mean you can’t let me? It’s my life, Seungcheol. I don’t need your permission.”

“That’s not what I meant!” he snapped.

“Then what did you mean?”

He took a shaky breath, his chest tightening. “I mean… I can’t watch you walk away. Not like this. Not with him.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out.

“I hate it, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking. “I hate seeing you with him. I hate that he gets to have your time, your attention, when I’ve had it for years, and I was too stupid to realize what it meant.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and it made his heart ache even more.

“Why are you doing this now, Seungcheol?” she whispered.

“Because I can’t lose you.”

“You already did,” she said, her voice trembling. “When you called me your best friend. When you made it so clear that that’s all we’d ever be. Do you have any idea how much that hurt?”

He stepped closer. “I didn’t mean it. I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of ruining what we had.” He reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “Of losing you if I messed this up. But now I realize I’m losing you anyway, and it’s killing me.”

Her tears spilled over, and Seungcheol gently cupped her face.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much it scares me. And I know I don’t deserve you after everything I’ve put you through, but please—please don’t go.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, he thought she was going to pull away. But then she threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest.

“You’re such an idiot,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“I know.”

“You hurt me so much.”

“I know,” he said again, holding her tighter. “And I’m so, so sorry.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him. “What if this doesn’t work? What if we ruin everything?”

“It won’t,” he promised. “Because I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

She searched his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all she saw was sincerity and love.

So she kissed him.

It was soft at first, hesitant, but then it deepened, and all the tension that had been building between them for years melted away.

When they finally pulled apart, Seungcheol rested his forehead against hers, smiling.

“Cancel the trip.”

“I already did,” she admitted, and he laughed softly, kissing her again.

————————————————————————————-

The next day, Seungcheol walked into the practice room with Y/N’s hand in his, and the members erupted into cheers.

“About time!” Seungkwan yelled.

“Finally!” Mingyu added, throwing his arms in the air.

Jeonghan just smirked, leaning back against the wall. “Told you.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop smiling as he looked at Y/N.

It had taken them years to get here.

But it was worth every second.

————————————————————————————

[suunani]

mine to hold ( choi seungcheol )

▍ seungcheol gets jealous and want to claims you.

content : 1200 words, male reader, added member!reader, fluff fluff fluff, boyfriend!cheol, jealous!cheol, requested here!

the rehearsal room was alive with its usual chaos.

music pounding, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, and laughter echoing as the members of ran through another grueling practice session.

sweat dripped down your forehead as you completed the last move of the routine, panting slightly as the song ended.

“alright, five-minute break!” hoshi called, clapping his hands before flopping down onto the floor.

the members scattered to grab water or stretch, the room falling into a buzz of idle chatter.

you leaned back against the mirrored wall, wiping sweat from your brow as seungcheol handed you a water bottle.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

his hand found its usual spot on the small of your back, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

“i’m good,” you replied, taking a long sip. “tired, but good.”

he hummed, his eyes scanning your face as if checking for any signs that you might be overexerting yourself. it was such a seungcheol thing to do — always worrying, always protective.

you appreciated it, though sometimes his concern bordered on overbearing.

“i’ll be fine,” you added, leaning into his touch for a moment. “promise.”

seungcheol nodded but didn’t look entirely convinced. his hand lingered on your back as you both stood there, watching the other members joke around or sprawl out on the floor.

then, a voice called your name from across the room.

you turned to see a small group of backup dancers waving you over. one of them, a tall guy with bright eyes and an easy smile, motioned you closer.

“hey, can we ask you something about the routine?”

you glanced at seungcheol, who was already watching them with a wary expression.

“i’ll be right back,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking toward the dancers.

he didn’t respond, but his hand slipped reluctantly from your back, leaving a cold spot where it had been.

seungcheol stayed where he was, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. his sharp eyes tracked your every movement, his gaze narrowing slightly as he watched you laugh at something one of the dancers said.

“you’re gonna give yourself wrinkles if you keep glaring like that,” jeonghan teased, sliding up beside him.

“i’m not glaring,” seungcheol muttered, though the tension in his shoulders said otherwise.

jeonghan raised an eyebrow.

“sure you’re not. you look like you’re ready to march over there and pull y/n away by the hand.”

seungcheol’s jaw tightened. “maybe i should.”

jeonghan chuckled, clearly entertained.

“you do realize y/n isn’t doing anything wrong, right? he’s just being friendly. that’s how he’s always been.”

“yeah, i know,” seungcheol grumbled. “it’s not him i’m worried about. it’s them.”

jeonghan followed his gaze to the dancers.

one of them was standing a little too close for comfort, leaning in as if to catch every word you said. another reached out, laughing as they lightly touched your arm.

“okay,” jeonghan admitted. “i see your point. but you’re still overreacting.”

seungcheol didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing further when one of the dancers leaned down to whisper something to you. you laughed, completely oblivious to the way your boyfriend was fuming just a few feet away.

then you finally made your way back to seungcheol, you could feel the tension radiating off him like a heatwave.

“hey,” you greeted, brushing your damp hair back as you sat down beside him. “im back.”

“having fun?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

you blinked, confused. “yeah, i guess. why?”

his jaw clenched, and he tilted his head toward the dancers.

“you sure seemed to be enjoying yourself over there.”

“cheol, what are you talking about?” you asked, your brows furrowing.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“why do you have to be so nice to everyone?”

you stared at him for a moment, trying to piece together where this was coming from.

“i’m not being nice. i’m just… talking to them. what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “is that they’re not just talking to you. they’re flirting.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but he didn’t give you the chance.

“you don’t see it,” he continued, his frustration bubbling over. “the way they look at you. the way they stand so close. it’s like they think they have a chance with you.”

realization dawned on you, and your lips parted in surprise. “wait… are you jealous?”

“i’m not jealous,” he shot back quickly, though the defensive edge in his voice betrayed him. “i just don’t like people crossing boundaries.”

a slow smile spread across your face.

“oh, you are so jealous.”

“y/n,” he warned, but the blush creeping up his neck gave him away.

“cheol,” you said, your tone softening as you leaned in closer. “you know you’re the only one i care about, right? no one else even comes close.”

his shoulders relaxed slightly, though he still looked unconvinced.

“you’re too trusting,” he muttered. “not everyone has innocent intentions.”

“and that’s why i have you,” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. “to scare away anyone who tries.”

a reluctant smile tugged at his lips, and he finally let himself lean into you, his arms encircling your waist.

“you think i’m scary?”

“terrifying,” you replied, grinning.

“good,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “let them be scared. maybe then they’ll back off.”

before you could respond, someone groaned loudly from across the room.

“can you two stop being gross for five seconds?” seungkwan whined, throwing a towel in your direction.

the rest of the members snickered, and even seungcheol couldn’t hold back a laugh as he caught the towel midair.

the break ended, and everyone returned to their positions for another run-through.

but seungcheol wasn’t done yet.

throughout the practice, he was extra touchy — his hand on your hips or lower back when he adjusted your posture, his arm slung casually over your waist during quick water breaks.

it wasn’t unusual for him to be affectionate, but today, it just felt… different.

“cheol, i think everyone’s watching,” you whispered as he leaned in to fix the collar of your shirt, his fingers lingering just a moment too long.

“let them watch,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “maybe then they’ll get the message.”

you bit back a laugh, shaking your head. “you’re really unbelievable, you know that?”

“and you’re mine,” he said simply, his eyes locking onto yours.

by the time rehearsal ended, you were both exhausted but in high spirits.

as you packed up your things, you felt seungcheol’s arm snake around your waist once more, pulling you close.

“come on,” he said, his voice softer now. “let’s grab some dinner before we head back.”

“sounds good,” you replied, leaning into his side.

as you walked out together, you couldn’t help but notice the lingering looks from some of the dancers. but this time, instead of getting annoyed, you just smiled to yourself.

let them watch, you thought.

seungcheol’s arm tightened around you, as if he’d read your mind.

because at the end of the day, you knew exactly where you belonged. and so did he.

[bluewhitehues]

“ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ, ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ, ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ” ~

♡Choi Seungcheol/ S.coups × Female reader 《FLUFF, COMFORT》

♡t/w: mentions of pimples/acne.

"Aghhh I told you don't kiss my cheeks, there are pimples everywhere." You said groaning pulling back from seungcheol. Where you're snuggling against him on your couch.

"Do I look like I care baby?" He says pulling you on his lap like he is on a mission, trying to kiss your cheek but you stop him.

"No but like it's dirty, there are probably bacterias and all everywhere." You say making a face.

Seungcheol scoffs, "You're impossible baby, and if I want to kiss you,I'll kiss you nothing will stop me. It's not like I'll die, come on." He squints his eyes giving you a look,"plus you look hot with all the pink on your cheeks, it enhances your beauty." He says scanning your face, holding your chin, tilting it downwards towards his face.

You finally let out a little laugh, "Seriously? Are you throwing my words at me right now? I told you you were hot with your pimple once."

"No, exactly now I get why you said that, I found it ridiculous back then,but I get you now." He says scanning your face, kissing your cheek again.

"Extra pretty" another kiss, "extra cute", another kiss on other cheek, "extra beautiful" another kiss, "extra beautiful" He finishes with a last kiss on your forehead (or you thought so).

And you know he means it by the way he looks at you with all the love he has for you in his eyes. " Really?" You whisper.

"Hmm. Really really" He says squeezing you to himself, hand sliding to back of your neck and pressing his lips on yours firmly, kissing you tenderly. Showing how much he means it.

To say you're the happiest seems like an understatement. Your man knows how to keep you/ his woman happy, how to make her feel loved everyday. He makes sure you don't have any insecurities or worries by crushing them down even before they arise, even before they have a chance to mess with you.

Masterlist

A/N:This is a hug for all my beautiful girlies out there. You are beautiful no matter what. If you are insecure about anything may it be acne, scars or something else... My beautiful it just so happens that our prettiest moon glows brightly flaunting her scars and spots. It is a part of her own beauty, it adds on to her beauty. And you're no different.🫂🩷

>> I get pimples atleast once a month and right now it's bad and call me weird or narcissistic idk I really do sometimes like them, it gives you a blush like appearance idk.😭😂 just random thoughts made me write this fic. I wanted to write this with wonwoo as a lead because let's be honest we all are stuck on that one TTT GoSe episode, the water games one 👉🏼👈🏼 I might post wonwoo version tomorrow. Ok bye I'm talking so much hope you enjoy this fic. See you soonnnn🫡

[kooqitas]

♡ [18+ mdni]!! # loss of virginity, rival to lovers (?).

you weren't surprised when seungcheol brutally threw you onto his bed. i mean, you spent the last few weeks fighting for any stupid reason that appeared. it was obvious that every unfounded hatred had something behind it. he kissed your neck in an uncontrolled way, biting and sucking the sensitive flesh as if he wanted to mark you. you spent most of the makeout in silence, knowing that if you opened your mouths it would only be to tease the other. it was a little pathetic, yes, but it was hot, and seungcheol was hot. fuck, you choked when you saw him take off his shirt, his strong arms completely exposed to you, the silver chain hitting your face. he laughed before grunting and kissing you again, pulling down his pants in a somewhat clumsy way. you just did the same, pulling your dress quickly and getting rid of your panties as soon as you saw him get rid of his underwear. okay, fuck, that was fucking big! you saw seungcheol grab a condom from the drawer, and you avoided thinking about how normal it seemed to him, and then he put it on, going with his glande in your cunt. the sudden act scared you, enough for you to stutter. "c-cheol!" you called him, receiving a look from man. "can you… take it easy? i… i'm a virgin." cheol's mouth opened in a perfect 'o', at that moment he removed his member from inside you, and at the same moment you protested, asking him to go back, just be… calm. "fuck, why didn't you tell me this before?" "you would give up…" "what? of course not, i just…" he shook his head, showing was better than telling. he removed the condom, but didn't get off your body, his hard cock was now touching your groin, while he sucked on the tip of your tits, the light bites on the hard nipple making you moan a little louder than expected, seungcheol lifted his head sometimes just to see you with your eyes closed while moaning, he went down kissing your belly, the wet kisses making your skin tingle. and seungcheol always checked on you, letting out a few laughs when their eyes met. "open" he said kissing your thigh, and you trembled, obeying. fuck, you'd never felt anything like that, the way his tongue went through every part of your cunt, the way he seemed to want to devour you. your moans and contortions becoming greater as he inserted one finger, and then another, and another... he kept 3 fingers inside you, and you clung against the sheets, wetting his hand. "cheol~" you groaned, as a request. and he laughed. you rolled your eyes. but the next second he took another condom, opened a tube of lubricant and poured it into it, there was not so much need, you were lubricated and the condom already had some lube, but he was worried. and then he entered, slowly, feeling you relax on his cock. 'so hot!' he moaned in your ear as he started to thrust, you couldn't even think. "you look so much prettier like this, under me, moaning" cheol was slow in his movements, yet precise, and you thought you were gonna die when his thumb went to your clit, making a pressure there that made you cum. "hold on a little, please" he basically begged, waiting for your nod to re-thrust, shit, you were so sensitive after cumming, your sly moans were making him crazy. he squeezed your left nipple and the loud moan you gave made cheol cum in the condom...

''damn... that was... fuck" he said, lying on your side after removing the condom. "who knew our academic rivalry would end... like this" you teased. "i was able to cum inside you then... i kind of won this game like hell," he laughs. "you only say that because you took my virginity, in fact, if you tell someone that, i'll kill you" "tell someone? damn, never! you're mine, i'll never tell anyone what happened here." "i am what?" "that's right. shhhhhh." he kissed you before you could say anything. "you need to pee" you stared at him confused. "something about needing to pee after sex, don't ask me, i don't know very well either, i saw it on tiktok" you laughed, getting up and going to pee, even if you didn't feel like it. when you went back to bed, you ended up in a silent agreement to sleep there, and that's how you fell asleep nestled in seungcheol's arms.

and that's also how you ended up having your first morning sex.

[nerdycheol]

Courtside Hearts || C.S.C

Pairing | highschool!seungcheol x fem!reader

wc:732 words. Note: My first ever fic. Been meaning to write something about this gose seungcheol.

Feedbacks & reblogs are appreciated. English is not my first language.

You stood near the bleachers, the air thick with excitement. The loud squeak of sneakers against the polished gym floor mixed with the roar of the crowd, creating a rhythm that echoed in your chest. Boys howled, whistles pierced the air, and basketballs bounced in a constant drumbeat, heightening the electric atmosphere.

Seungcheol’s team was neck-and-neck with the opposing squad, every point hard-earned, every second fought for. Your eyes were glued to him—the way he moved, the determination etched on his face as sweat dripped from his brow. He was commanding on the court, his focus sharp as he signaled plays and dodged defenders.

When he was at the free throw line, your heart pounded so hard you could hear it in your ears. You crossed your fingers, muttering under your breath, “Come on, Cheol. You’ve got this.”

A girl next to you leaned closer, her grin teasing. “Your boyfriend’s good, but the guy on the other team’s totally stealing the show.”

You raised an eyebrow, shooting her a smirk without breaking your gaze from the court. “What are you talking about? My man’s the star.” Your voice brimmed with confidence, a pride you couldn’t mask even if you tried.

He dribbled twice, his hands steady despite the pressure. As the crowd quieted, you noticed the subtle twitch of his lips—a barely-there smile, almost as if he knew you were watching. Then, he bent his knees, flicked his wrist, and let the ball fly.

Time seemed to stretch as the ball arced through the air. The crowd held its breath—and then, swoosh. The ball swished through the net, clean and perfect. The gym erupted in cheers, and you threw your hands up, beaming with pride.

“That’s ma man!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the noise. For a fleeting second, Seungcheol’s eyes found yours amidst the chaos. He gave you a shy smile, his cheeks tinged red, but the sparkle in his eyes told you he heard you.

Seungcheol’s team won, and your excitement had you practically skipping toward the locker room. You could already picture him, sweaty but smiling, maybe even making a little joke with his teammates. You pushed the door open and found him sitting on the bench, his uniform sticking to his skin, but his grin as bright as ever. His teammates were laughing and nudging him with knowing smirks.

"Look who’s here," Jeonghan called out, his voice carrying over the chatter. “Your girlfriend’s here to see you, huh, Seungcheol?”

You felt your cheeks warm at their teasing, but you weren’t bothered. All you wanted was him. You stepped forward, eyes locked on his, and before anyone could say another word, he stood and closed the distance between you, pulling you into a quick kiss, his lips soft but full of meaning.

“Did you see that last shot?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look at you with that confident, playful glint in his eyes.

“Of course I did,” you grinned, stealing another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. You pulled away, your voice soft as you whispered, “You were amazing out there.”

Seungcheol’s teammates laughed and made a few more teasing comments, but he didn’t care. Not when you were in his arms. He leaned down, his lips brushing yours again before pulling away with a smile. “I’m glad you think so.” His eyes flickered over to his friends, who were still laughing, but he didn’t give them a second thought. His attention was all on you now.

“They’re gonna keep teasing me, aren’t they?” he murmured with a smirk.

You laughed, your hands resting on his chest. “Let them. They don’t understand that I’m the luckiest one here.”

With that, he kissed you again, a soft but definite press of his lips against yours, and for that moment, the rest of the world disappeared. Just the two of you, locked in your own little bubble, despite the teasing laughter and playful whistles echoing from his teammates.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered between kisses, his smile never fading.

[thedensworld]

READ THE FULL VERSION NOW!

How to Summon Demon

Pairing: S.Coups x reader

Genre: Supernatural AU, humor, angst

Summary: your friends and you playfully played game to call the Hot Demon in high school. What if he actually summoned?

"Nothing's happened to Jinah, right?" Sonhee asked anxiously once they were done spelling. Jinah, sitting in the middle of the other three girls, sighed with relief. Despite her brave front in offering herself as the bride of the demon, deep inside, she was a bit scared.

"Why do we even play this game?" Hana scoffed, pushing herself onto the bed and lying down, looking at you, Sonhee, and Jinah with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

You shrugged and followed Hana, mumbling, "Just wanted to make Sonhee happy." Sonhee threw a playful protest, her face lighting up in mock offense.

"Hey, I just said it would be fun. Wasn't it fun?" Sonhee turned to everyone, seeking validation. Jinah nodded slightly, still feeling the remnants of her fear, while you and Hana exchanged glances before shrugging noncommittally.

"It's almost midnight; let's sleep. We have school tomorrow," you reminded them.

Sitting in the café years later, you watched with pride how your friends had grown. Sonhee, now with her little girl in a stroller, Jinah with a baby on the way, and Hana recently married to a Singaporean man she met on a business trip. Each of them had blossomed in their own way, their lives a testament to the passage of time and the enduring strength of your bond.

The four of you laughed, the tension dissipating as you reminisced about old times. Living together in the same dorm room 15 years ago had forged an unexpectedly intimate relationship among you all. You remembered the countless nights spent talking until dawn, the shared secrets, and the unspoken bond that had formed over time. The room had witnessed your collective fears and triumphs, your tears and laughter.

You felt a warm sense of pride and nostalgia as you observed how much the four of you had grown over the past 15 years. Meeting at 15, you were now on the brink of your 30s, each of you carving out your own path in life. The years had flown by, but the connection remained strong, a comforting constant amidst the changes.

"Can you believe it's been 15 years?" you mused aloud, smiling at the thought.

Sonhee laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

Jinah nodded, gently rubbing her baby bump. "And when you're with the right people."

Hana raised her glass of iced coffee, a twinkle in her eye. "To us, and to many more years of friendship."

As you all clinked glasses, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the journey you had shared, and excited for the many memories yet to be made.

As you all clinked glasses, your phone rang, breaking the moment. Glancing at the screen, you saw it was your manager calling. You answered quickly, noting the urgency in their voice.

Jinah grinned playfully. "Look at you, Mr. Rising Star. Who would've thought our quiet and calm 15-year-old would become a famous actor?"

Everyone chuckled, and you shrugged with a modest smile. "Yeah, who would've thought?"

Your manager's voice interrupted again, reminding you of your upcoming salon appointment. "Sorry, guys, I have to go. My manager is waiting for me," you said, standing up.

"Always busy," Hana teased, but her eyes were warm with understanding.

Sonhee added, "Thanks for making time for us, even with your hectic schedule."

You nodded, feeling a pang of regret for leaving so soon. "I'll see you all soon, I promise." With a wave of goodbye, you stepped out of the café, the cool breeze a contrast to the warmth you felt inside from the reunion.

As you approached the car, you saw your manager waiting impatiently. "Sorry for the wait," you said, sliding into the passenger seat.

"No problem. We have to keep moving if we want to stay on schedule," your manager replied, already pulling out into the street.

As the car sped through the bustling city streets, you felt a sudden, jarring jolt. The car veered wildly, and you heard the heart-stopping sound of screeching tires. The world seemed to move in slow motion as another vehicle collided with yours, the impact sending a shockwave through your body. The sound of shattering glass filled your ears, and the force of the crash threw you violently against the seatbelt. The world around you faded into an ominous silence as everything went black.

You got into a car accident.

*

In the darkness, you found yourself in a strange liminal space, caught between life and death. A surreal atmosphere enveloped you, a mix of chilling stillness and an ethereal glow. Memories of your friends, your career, and your life flashed before your eyes, mingling with an eerie quiet. Time felt distorted, stretching out endlessly, as if you were floating in a void.

Suddenly, you felt a pull, an irresistible force drawing you back to consciousness. You opened your eyes to find yourself in an unfamiliar, opulent room. The high ceilings were adorned with intricate designs, and ancient tapestries lined the walls, depicting scenes of otherworldly realms. The air was thick with an intoxicating scent, both alluring and unsettling.

Before you stood a man of striking appearance. His features were almost otherworldly—sharp, chiseled, and undeniably handsome. Yet, there was something intimidating about him, an aura of power that made your heart race with unease.

"Welcome," he said, his voice smooth and commanding. "You've crossed a threshold few ever do."

You struggled to sit up, confusion and fear mingling in your mind. "Where am I? Who are you?" you managed to ask.

The man took a step closer, his intense gaze never leaving yours. "You are in a place between worlds," he replied enigmatically. "As for me, you may call me S.Coups."

You jolted awake, your last memory of the car accident with your manager flashing vividly before you. "Am I... dead? Are you Death?" you asked hesitantly, the urge of panic clear in your eyes as the man named S.Coups stared at you.

He smiled and walked over to a nearby sofa. You realized that you were lying on a bed in what appeared to be a luxurious bedroom. The sheer comfort and opulence of the room sent waves of confusion through you. If you were dead, how could you be in such a paradise-like place? Had you lived your life so righteously that you deserved a place like this? And who exactly was this S.Coups?

"I saved you," S.Coups said, breaking the silence.

You watched him breathlessly. "From the accident?" you asked, and he nodded.

You sighed in relief, thinking you weren't dead yet. But your relief was short-lived as he continued. "Yet," he added, as if he could read your thoughts. "Your body is likely in the hospital now, undergoing surgeries and treatments. What you are right now is your soul, caught in between."

His words echoed in your mind: a place between worlds. The gravity of the situation began to dawn on you.

"I'm a demon. I've been waiting for you for 15 years."

You watched his face intently, then suddenly burst into laughter. Your head turned around to find the hidden cameras as you said, "Is this a prank? Was the accident earlier part of the setup?" You smiled, still half-believing it was a joke.

"If it is, you better stop. It's not funny anymore, and I'm going to sue everyone involved," you continued, standing from the bed and walking toward him.

S.Coups smiled and laughed softly at your boldness. He stood in front of you, his tall figure towering over you as he approached closer. Your breath hitched, intimidated by his presence.

"I'm the demon you summoned 15 years ago, and I saved you from death because you're my wife," he stated calmly.

You laughed again, shaking your head. "Stop it. How do you guys know about the little game I played with my friends? Did they tell you?"

Suddenly, you felt your body plummet, as if falling from a great height. Your legs weakened, and your head spun. The room around you distorted, everything warping and blurring except for S.Coups and his intense gaze. Your body fell toward him, and he caught you, his hold steady and strong. In an instant, you were back in the bedroom, gasping for breath.

You pushed away from him, your heart pounding as the realization hit. This wasn't a prank. It wasn't a real bedroom. It was indeed a place between worlds.

"Do you believe it now?" S.Coups asked, his voice steady and unyielding.

You stared at him, the truth settling heavily in your mind. The memories of your friends, the innocent game, and the promise you had made all those years ago now seemed to carry a weight you hadn't understood at the time. The opulent room, his enigmatic presence, and the surreal experience all pointed to one undeniable fact: this was real.

"What do you want from me?"

*

Seungcheol, once trapped in an eternal detention, was finally released. The 700-year-long punishment had ended, but he couldn't return to his world. Instead, he found himself once again in the place between worlds, now known as the demon S.Coups.

S.Coups' role was to punish evil in the human world, a decree from God for Seungcheol's past transgressions when he was a human. "You will harvest what you planted," was the divine edict, and Seungcheol, now as S.Coups, had to enforce it.

He thought his penance was complete, but God had another plan. A future wife. When Seungcheol learned that his future wife would be a human soul, just like him, he felt a wave of relief. But days turned into years, and no one was given to him. The endless wait began to weigh heavily on his spirit.

Until one night, a group of teenage girls summoned him. Among them was the girl who offered herself as his bride, but another girl caught his eye.

Y/n.

His eyes widened in recognition. After a thousand years, he could finally see you again. "You can have her now," he heard the voice of God, instructing him to claim his bride.

"What will happen to her?" Seungcheol asked, his voice trembling.

"She will die. Her soul will be bonded to you," came the solemn reply.

Seungcheol's gaze shifted to the girl who had captivated him. "How about her?" he asked, pointing to you.

There was a pregnant pause before he heard another voice, filled with a knowing sadness. "So you still remember her?"

Seungcheol closed his eyes, the weight of centuries pressing down on him. "Is this part of the never-ending punishment? That you won't let us be together?"

As you stood there, grappling with the enormity of the situation, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of fear and curiosity. The life you had known felt distant and fragile, replaced by a reality that defied all logic and expectation.

"What do you want from me?" Seungcheol heard you ask, your voice tinged with a mix of desperation and anger. "Why me? Jinah was the one who sacrificed!" you shouted, and Seungcheol took a step back unconsciously, taken aback by your sudden rage.

He watched as you shook your head, your hands running through your hair in frustration. "What about my family? What are they going to do without me?"

Seungcheol closed his eyes, a flash of your family—your mother and siblings—discussing your inheritance while you still lay on the operating table, clenching his heart. Even after years, you were still a people's person, and yet you were still betrayed by those you loved.

Seungcheol took a deep breath and gently took your hand, touching you for the first time in a thousand years. He was glad you didn't fight his touch. "I chose you. That's why you're here," Seungcheol said softly.

Your eyes softened as tears welled up, ready to stream down your cheeks. He watched as you sighed and then sobbed, your emotions overwhelming you.

"Why did you choose me? Tell me the reason!" you demanded, your voice cracking with emotion.

There was a pregnant pause before Seungcheol looked you deeply in the eyes and asked, "Do you really want to know the answer?"

*

"Yes, this is part of your punishment. I planted her into your heart, but you decided to kill her in your past life. Fate has turned its back on you," the divine voice intoned.

Seungcheol cried out in regret, "Forgive me! It was an impulsive move driven by emotion. I love her, I really love her."

"That's your consequence," the voice replied sternly.

"What must I do to have her as my wife again? I'll do anything, I'll take any burden," Seungcheol pleaded desperately.

"Are you sure?" the voice asked, its tone grave.

Seungcheol nodded, desperation evident in his eyes. "Yes, I'm sure."

The voice continued, "She will die in 15 years in a car accident. You will have a chance to claim her soul at that moment. However, once you save her, her soul will awaken without any memory of you. She will hate you and treat you the opposite of how she used to. Your powers will fade. And lastly, you will be haunted by the memory of how you killed her until she finally comes to love you again."

As Seungcheol stood there, tears streaming down his face, the weight of the punishment and the path ahead seemed almost unbearable. But his love for you was unwavering, and he knew he would endure any hardship to be with you again.

Seungcheol jolted awake, his heart pounding. He stared at his palms and breathed a sigh of relief when he found no blood. The haunting had started, and he wasn't sure how long he could survive seeing himself kill you over and over again.

He covered his face, and sobs escaped his mouth. He couldn't control his emotions as his powers faded once he claimed your soul. This was the worst punishment ever given to him—loving you more and more but also being haunted by the memory of killing you repeatedly.

Seungcheol had been a crown prince, married to you, the daughter of one of his father's ministers. It wasn't an arranged marriage; in fact, he had liked you from the first time he saw you. However, as he became increasingly distracted by military duties, he grew distant from you.

Your father, the minister, was discovered to be one of the emperor's betrayers, plotting to murder the king and his family. The order to eliminate everyone in your father's family became serious, and even you, the prince's wife, were targeted.

"Seungcheol," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Please, tell me this isn't true. Tell me my father’s actions won't tear us apart."

Seungcheol's heart ached at the sight of you, his beloved wife, so vulnerable and frightened. But the bitter taste of betrayal gnawed at him. "I wish I could," he said, his voice cold. "But the betrayal runs deep, and the emperor has decreed that your father's entire family must be punished."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gripped his hands tighter. "I had no knowledge of his plans. I swear to you, Seungcheol, I am innocent."

He pulled his hands away, stepping back. "How can I trust you? Your father plotted to kill the emperor and his family. How do I know you weren't part of it?"

You looked at him, shocked and hurt. "You really believe I would betray you? I am your wife, Seungcheol. I love you."

His eyes flashed with a mix of anger and sorrow. "Love? How can I be sure? Maybe you were waiting for the right moment to strike, just like your father."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, that's not true. I would never harm you."

Seungcheol clenched his fists, struggling with the turmoil inside him. "Your father betrayed the kingdom. The law is clear. Everyone in his family must be punished."

You stood up, desperation in your voice. "We can run, leave the palace, start a new life somewhere far away from all of this."

Seungcheol's face twisted with pain. "Running would only bring more misery. We would be hunted, and our lives would be filled with fear and uncertainty. I cannot bear to see you live like that."

Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, there was a silence filled with unspoken words. "Then what will you do?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

His face contorted with sorrow as he reached out to touch your cheek. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "But I cannot let them harm you. I would rather end your life myself than see you suffer at the hands of others."

You stepped back, shock and disbelief written on your face. "You would kill me? How could you say such a thing?"

Tears streamed down his face as he dropped to his knees. "Because I love you," he cried. "I cannot let you suffer. If there is any way to spare you pain, even if it means taking your life, I will do it. But please, know that I do this out of love, not malice."

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. "How can love lead to this? How can you claim to love me and still be willing to take my life?"

Seungcheol sobbed, his heart breaking. "I don't know, but I cannot bear to see you in pain. Please, forgive me."

You fell to your knees beside him, your tears mingling with his as you held each other. "I love you, Seungcheol," you whispered. "But I cannot forgive this. I cannot understand how love can lead to such a cruel fate."

In that moment, Seungcheol knew that he had lost you, not just physically but emotionally. The bond that had once brought you together was now shattered by the weight of duty and betrayal. He held you close, the two of you wrapped in a final embrace as the night closed in around you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with sobs. "I'm so sorry."

With a heavy heart and trembling hands, he prepared to do the unthinkable, driven by a whirlwind of emotions—love, betrayal, and regret—praying that one day, in another life, he might find a way to make things right.

As he brought the dagger closer to your chest, your eyes met his, filled with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I wish I would never love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, the last breath escaping your lips.

Seungcheol's heart shattered at your words, the weight of your loss crashing down on him with unbearable force. He held you close as life slipped away from you, his soul forever marked by the tragic end of your love.

*

You woke up to a searing pain coursing through your body. Every muscle ached, every breath felt like fire in your lungs, and any attempt to move was met with an unforgiving resistance. Your throat was dry, and your voice failed you when you tried to speak. The only thing you could do was blink—slow, deliberate blinks that felt like your only connection to the world.

Where am I? you wondered, heart pounding with disoriented fear. The ceiling above you was a sterile white, and the faint hum of medical equipment filled the air with an eerie rhythm.

"Honey, you're awake!" Your mother’s familiar voice rang out, shaky with relief and overflowing with love. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she leaned over you, cupping your face gently with trembling hands. Her touch was warm—so achingly familiar it almost brought tears to your own eyes.

You blinked slowly, trying to signal that you were aware, that you heard her. Her smile grew wider, and her tears flowed freely, a soft, choked laugh escaping her lips. "You're back," she whispered, brushing your hair away from your face. Her voice cracked under the weight of her emotions, and her gaze was filled with a love so deep it made your chest ache in a different, more tender way.

Moments later, the door swung open with a soft thud, and a small crowd of nurses and a doctor hurried in. The steady beeping of machines quickened as the medical team surrounded you. Gloves snapped, charts were flipped, and lights flashed as they assessed you from head to toe. A nurse adjusted the IV in your arm, her touch clinical but careful. Another nurse gently lifted your head to check the support of your neck brace, moving with precise, practiced care.

"Her condition is stable now," the doctor announced, his voice calm but firm, like an anchor in a storm. His eyes scanned your vitals, and he made a few notes on his clipboard. "If her condition continues to improve, she’ll be on the road to recovery soon."

Recovery. The word echoed in your mind, heavy with meaning. Your heart swelled with hope but also with fear. What had happened to you? The accident... Flashes of shattered glass, screeching tires, and the weightless feeling of falling rushed back to you. Your breathing grew shallow, your body frozen in place as panic began to set in.

"It's okay, honey. You're safe now," your mother reassured you, noticing the shift in your expression. She leaned in closer, stroking your hair in soft, soothing motions. "You're safe. Just focus on resting, okay? You're so strong, my baby. So strong."

Her words washed over you like a lullaby. Though your body was battered and broken, though your voice had been taken from you, a small flicker of determination sparked in your chest. You had made it back. And if you could come back from that, you could do anything.

So it was all a dream? That thought echoed in your mind as fragments of your memory drifted to that strange, surreal place. A place that was neither here nor there, filled with an eerie stillness, and a man—no, a being—who had claimed to be your husband. Not just any husband, but a demon husband living in a realm caught between life and death.

It made sense now. You had survived a near-death experience. This was just your mind's way of coping, you reasoned. You’d even played roles like this before in your career—characters trapped in a dreamlike coma, their subconscious creating vivid, otherworldly illusions. It had to be something like that. A hallucination. A figment of a fractured mind.

"Mom, he insisted on coming in. He said he's her boyfriend," your sister’s voice cut through your thoughts like a blade of clarity.

Your heart gave a jolt. Her footsteps were light but purposeful as she entered the room, your brother following close behind. Then, another set of footsteps, heavier and more deliberate, echoed behind them. You couldn't see clearly from where you lay, but you caught glimpses of a tall figure. Pale skin. Sharp features. Pink lips pressed into a calm, almost knowing smile. His tailored outfit clung to him with the precision of someone who knew how to command attention.

Your mother’s soft gasp followed. You could practically hear her eyes scanning him from head to toe. "I didn’t know Y/N had such a handsome boyfriend," she muttered with a hint of playful disbelief. "Come in, kid."

Boyfriend? Your heart skipped a beat, confusion quickly morphing into suspicion.

The man stepped forward, his presence filling the room like a shadow stretching at dusk. You felt him before you saw him, his gaze sharp and deliberate, like he knew exactly where you were. The weight of his presence was familiar—too familiar.

No. It couldn’t be.

The world around you blurred for a moment as you focused on him, your heart pounding like a distant drum. Slowly, your eyes adjusted, and there he was.

S.Coups.

Your breath hitched, your eyes widening in disbelief. It was him. The same man—the same demon—who had introduced himself as your husband in that strange place. The same one who had called you "wife" with a smirk that both unnerved and intrigued you.

But how? How was he here? Wasn’t he just a figment of your coma-induced dream?

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, his movements as smooth as silk. His gaze was steady, filled with an unspoken familiarity that sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice deep and honeyed, like the low hum of thunder before a storm.

Before you could even think to react, he reached out and touched your head.

A sudden warmth spread through you, sinking deep into your bones. The sharp, constant ache in your body dulled instantly, like his touch had drained the pain away. You blinked, your eyes wide with shock. How—?

"You remember?" His eyes softened, his smile tilting ever so slightly, as if he’d been waiting for this moment.

Your breath came out in shallow, uneven bursts, panic surging through you. Your mind screamed at you that this wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be real. And yet, there he stood, his face mere inches from yours, eyes crinkled with quiet affection, as if you'd been reunited after a long journey apart.

He leaned in, his lips so close to your ear you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"Hello again... wife."

His words hung in the air like a spell, impossible to break, impossible to deny. Your heart thudded violently against your ribs, your mind caught between disbelief and something far more dangerous—recognition.

*

You sat on the hospital bed, propped up by pillows, your gaze fixed on the television screen. The news anchor's voice echoed softly in the background, but your attention was glued to the flashing headline in bold letters:

"Life-or-Death Accident of Rising Actress, Ji Y/N."

The footage cut to chaotic scenes of the accident site — twisted metal, shattered glass, and flashing sirens painting a grim picture. Reporters swarmed like vultures, their cameras capturing every angle. Clips of journalists stationed outside the hospital played next, eager to catch any update on your condition.

Your fingers twitched, clenching lightly at the sheets on your lap. It was surreal watching yourself become a headline, your life reduced to a media frenzy.

"Eat your food," a familiar voice cut through your thoughts.

You blinked and turned your head, meeting the steady gaze of S.Coups. He stood by the side of your bed, casually placing a tray of food on the table before you. He’d been by your side for the past three days, an unwavering, uninvited presence that somehow no one questioned. Your family had been hesitant at first, but S.Coups had insisted on taking care of you himself. Somehow, his calm authority left no room for argument.

You watched him now as he adjusted the tray, his movements fluid but precise, like someone used to being in control. His sharp features were framed by soft strands of dark hair, and despite the sterile hospital lighting, he looked impossibly flawless.

“Eat,” he said again, his tone gentle but firm. “You need to get your strength back.”

You glanced down at the meal he’d prepared. It looked simple but warm, the kind of home-cooked meal that made you nostalgic for days long gone. Slowly, you reached for the spoon, your muscles moving with less strain than before.

The doctors had been baffled. Just days ago, they said you’d need weeks, maybe months, to recover from fractured ribs and broken bones. Yet, each day since you woke up, the pain had lessened significantly. Too quickly. It didn’t make sense.

The doctors called it a "miraculous recovery." But you knew better.

Your eyes shifted back to S.Coups. The man — no, the demon — who had stayed by your side like a guardian shadow. Whenever the pain had been too much to bear, he would press his palm against your forehead. Warmth would flood your body, and every ache, every sharp pang, would simply… vanish. Like it had been lifted straight out of you.

At first, you thought it was coincidence. Then, you thought it was a dream. But now, you knew better.

You stared at him as he leaned back, arms crossed, his eyes half-lidded with a calm patience that made him look almost human. Almost.

"How do you do that?" you asked, your voice raspy from disuse but strong enough to be heard. It was the first time you’d spoken properly since you woke up.

His gaze shifted to you, sharp but unbothered, like he'd been waiting for the question. Slowly, a small, knowing smile curled on his lips.

“Demon power,” he said simply, like it was the most natural answer in the world.

Your breath caught in your chest. So, he is a demon.

The spoon in your hand hovered mid-air, forgotten as you stared at him. Everything suddenly felt too real. The impossible healing. The way no one questioned his presence. The strange familiarity in his eyes, like he’d known you far longer than these past three days.

Your heart thudded in your chest, not from fear, but from the unsettling realization that maybe, just maybe, your "dream" wasn’t a dream at all.

And maybe, just maybe, you were still caught somewhere between life and death.

“Why are you here?” you asked, voice steadier this time.

His eyes didn’t waver. If anything, his smile widened just a fraction, his gaze holding a weight you couldn’t name.

“To make sure you don’t forget,” he said softly, leaning in close. His voice was a low rumble, like distant thunder before a storm. “You still owe me, wife.”

The chill that ran down your spine had nothing to do with the hospital air conditioning.

"You and your friends summoned me," he added, his tone casual as he moved to sit on the chair beside you, legs crossed like he had all the time in the world. His sharp eyes stayed on you, unblinking. "So, here I am."

His words hit like a sharp jolt to your mind. You shook your head slowly, disbelief tugging at your features. “That’s ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, voice laced with doubt.

“Ridiculous?” He raised a brow, his eyes crinkling with amusement. He tilted his head slightly, resting his elbow on the armrest, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his cheek. “The fact that you survived that accident alone is ridiculous.”

His words hung in the air like smoke, dense and suffocating.

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, his smile too sharp to be kind. “I asked God to do this. He fulfilled it,” he said with a quiet kind of pride, like he was sharing a secret no mortal should ever hear. His eyes glinted with something between arrogance and mischief. “Deep down, I know I’m still His favorite.”

His words were so absurd, so unreal, that all you could do was stare. Your gaze stayed on him, watching the subtle rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of someone entirely too comfortable in a situation he shouldn’t belong in. Slowly, you shifted your eyes back to the food.

You raised the spoon again, shoveling a small bite into your mouth. The bland taste of hospital food was grounding, a bitter reminder of reality. You chewed slowly, each movement of your jaw deliberate as you processed his words. Ridiculous, you thought, swallowing the lump in your throat along with the food. His presence, his words, everything about this situation was ridiculous.

But he wasn’t wrong.

The fact that you survived that accident without a single permanent injury, without so much as a scar, was a miracle that even the doctors couldn’t explain. There was no logic to it. No sense.

You glanced at him again. He was watching you, his gaze heavy with something you couldn't name. His eyes were dark, unreadable, but somehow, you felt like he was seeing right through you.

You remembered it now. His voice, the warmth of his touch on your forehead. The words he’d spoken when the pain had been at its peak.

“I saved you.”

Your fingers tightened around the spoon.

What have I done?

*

Humans were such curious creatures. Noisy, excitable, and always so desperate to capture fleeting moments as if they could freeze time with a camera. Seungcheol had seen it happen countless times over the centuries, but today it was different.

Today, they were capturing her.

He pushed your wheelchair slowly, his eyes scanning the crowd of humans that swarmed around you. Cameras flashed like sparks of lightning, their voices colliding in a mess of questions, calls, and murmurs. Some of them called your name, others whispered about him, the "mysterious man" accompanying you.

He glanced down at you. Your head was tilted forward, face shielded behind a mask, large sunglasses, and a hat pulled low over your head. You were tense, your hands gripping the armrests like they were your only anchor. Embarrassment, he recognized. You were embarrassed. All because you weren’t wearing makeup.

He didn’t understand it. With or without that powder on your face, you were still beautiful. His wife had always been beautiful, no matter the life, no matter the face. Humans and their insecurities… He scoffed softly but didn’t comment on it. You wouldn’t hear him anyway.

“Where to, Mr. Choi?” the driver asked as he pulled open the back door of the car.

“Mr. Choi?” your voice was sharp, cutting through the hum of noise like a thread of clarity. You tilted your head just enough to glance at him. He met your gaze through the dark lenses of your sunglasses.

He supposed it was only natural for you to be curious.

“Choi Seungcheol,” he answered smoothly, pushing the wheelchair closer to the car. “That’s my real name.” He nodded toward the driver, who was adjusting his gloves. “And that’s Chan. My phoenix.”

You turned your head to the driver, eyes narrowing behind your glasses. You tilted your head slightly, as if analyzing him. Ah, she’s doubting it, Seungcheol thought, amused.

“He’s human,” you stated firmly, like it was a fact no one could dispute.

Seungcheol’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. Of course you’d think that. Humans always relied on their eyes first. They never bothered to look beyond.

“He’s a phoenix,” Seungcheol replied, his voice carrying a note of pride. “He’s just in human form right now.”

You blinked once. Twice. Then, your brows furrowed deeply, and you leaned back in the wheelchair like you needed space to process his words. Good. She should process it slowly. Seungcheol had learned long ago that humans resisted the truth until it smacked them right in the face. They all do.

“You raised him?” you asked slowly, as if testing the words on your tongue.

He glanced toward Chan, who stood quietly by the car, eyes forward, disciplined as ever. A good phoenix, he thought. He still remembered the day he found the ember, barely flickering, weak and desperate to burn. Seungcheol had breathed life into it, raised it, trained it, and now here it was — his phoenix, his loyal servant.

“I raised him from an ember,” he said, turning his gaze back to you. She won’t believe it. Watch. “He’s been with me ever since.”

Your face twisted, lips pulling into a small grimace. It was the same face you made whenever you were trying to make sense of something ridiculous. You’d made that face before — in lifetimes past. He remembered it well.

"Right," you muttered, eyes flickering between him and Chan. She’s still holding on to her logic. He could practically hear your mind ticking, trying to find a way to rationalize it. Humans always did.

"Do you have a house here?" you asked, your voice quieter, calmer. A shift in topic. Smart girl.

He nodded. "You remember it, don't you?"

He watched you shift in your seat, lips pressing into a thin line. It was like you didn’t want to admit it, but he knew you had seen it — his house of the other worl. Grand, old, and nestled on the edge of the woods where the mist never fully cleared. You'd walked through those halls once, your voice echoing softly as you called for him.

“In this world, I move from time to time,” Seungcheol continued, his tone nonchalant as he helped you into the car. His hands were firm but gentle on your waist as he guided you into the seat. “I change identities too. Right now, I’m Park Ian.”

"Park Ian," you repeated, glancing at him once you were settled. Your lips twitched in mild disbelief. "You have a lot of names."

He chuckled under his breath. She’s catching on. Sliding into the seat beside you, he glanced at her, eyes crinkling with amusement.

“I’ve lived in this world for over 700 years,” he said, his voice laced with something older, something heavier. “It’s not wise to keep the same name for that long.”

You didn’t say anything at first, but he saw the way your gaze faltered. Good. Let it sink in. His words weren’t just words; they were a reminder. A reminder that he had seen centuries pass. While emperors rose and fell, while entire dynasties crumbled to dust, he remained.

He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes still on you. He could see it now — the way your thoughts were running circles in your head, trying to make sense of it. Humans always sought a sense of "normal." It was in their nature. But normal didn’t exist. It never had.

“You shouldn’t freak out temporary creatures with your real identity,” he added with a shrug, his gaze shifting to the window.

Silence filled the car, and for a moment, it was peaceful. He liked the stillness of it. No flashing lights. No noise. Just the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of your breathing. Temporary creatures, he thought again.

You stayed quiet for a while, but he didn’t mind. He could feel the shift in your presence — the quiet tension of realization setting in. You’d heard his words, understood them, but you were still trying to reject them. It was only natural. Humans didn’t want to be reminded of how little time they had.

But Seungcheol had never seen you as "temporary." Not in this life. Not in any of your past lives.

Every version of you had found him, one way or another. And this version — the one sitting next to him, stubborn and sharp as ever — was no different.

Humans liked to believe in fate. But fate wasn’t some grand, invisible thread. Fate was just a series of choices leading to an inevitable end.

Seungcheol turned his head to watch you, his gaze soft but unwavering. This is the one I’ve been waiting for.

“Rest,” he said quietly. “We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

You glanced at him, hesitating for a moment, but you leaned back in your seat, letting your eyes close behind the tinted lenses of your sunglasses.

He watched you for a moment longer before turning his gaze back to the road ahead. The weight of time didn’t feel as heavy today. Not when you were here, next to him.

Temporary, huh? His fingers drummed lightly against his knee. No, not this one.

*

Seungcheol had always been fascinated by how human architecture evolved with each passing century. Gone were the ornate, intricate designs of old. Now, humans favored simplicity — clean lines, wide-open spaces, and muted tones. Minimalist, modern, efficient. He’d seen it all before, but this time, he decided to adapt.

That’s how he ended up with this house. Modern. Sleek. Sharp edges softened by natural light. It was the kind of house humans admired in magazines but rarely lived in. For Seungcheol, it was just another shell, another temporary shelter in a world he didn’t truly belong to.

He rarely stayed here, anyway. His "work" demanded it. Decades of building and maintaining a "family business" — that’s what he called it whenever humans asked. But the truth was far less ordinary. He’d been running it alone for centuries. No heirs, no partners. Just him. It was a clever front for something far older and far more important.

And when the human world grew too loud, too tedious, he returned to his other world — the one between life and death. There, he answered to only one higher power. God. As a demon, he completed every task given to him, no questions asked. No rest, no reprieve. Seven hundred years of orders, assignments, and quiet obedience.

But you were here now, and that made it different.

“Do you like the house?” he asked as he pushed your wheelchair through the wide front door. The smooth, polished floor gleamed beneath the soft, ambient lighting. Everything smelled new, untouched, like the world hadn’t yet left its mark on it.

You glanced around, brow furrowed, lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval. “I have my own house,” you muttered, eyes narrowing as you took in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Seungcheol let out a low breath, barely a sigh, but enough to hint at his growing patience. Humans were always slow to accept things they couldn’t control.

“Not anymore,” he replied firmly. He moved to stand in front of you, then crouched down until his eyes were level with yours. His gaze was steady, unwavering, the kind that made it hard to look away. “Your family plans to send you to their house. Not because they want to take care of you.”

His words hung in the air, sharp and deliberate.

Your eyes narrowed even more, suspicion creeping into your expression. “What do you mean by that?”

He tilted his head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle with one missing piece. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, his face now only inches from yours.

“They think you’re going to die,” he said bluntly. No sugarcoating. No soft words. He knew you’d hate that, but he also knew you’d rather hear the truth. “So they sold your house. Even met with a lawyer to discuss your inheritance.”

Your face twisted in disbelief, lips parting as if to protest. But you didn’t speak. Not right away.

“No,” you said, shaking your head slowly, like you were trying to convince yourself. “They wouldn’t—”

“They would,” Seungcheol cut in, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “Humans are predictable. They prepare for loss the moment it feels inevitable.” His voice wasn’t cruel, just matter-of-fact, as if he were explaining the weather. “You were unconscious for weeks. They thought that was it. People do selfish things when they think they’ve already lost someone.”

You stared at him, lips pressed tightly together, eyes darting away like you didn’t want to hear any more. But he knew you were listening. Humans always listened when it came to betrayal.

“They’re not bad people,” Seungcheol added, his tone softer this time. “Just scared. And fear makes people act without thinking.”

You stayed quiet for a long moment, eyes locked on the polished floor beneath you. Seungcheol didn’t rush you. He’d seen humans go through every stage of grief — denial, anger, sadness, acceptance. He could tell you were stuck somewhere between the first two. He was there too when he lost you.

Finally, you let out a short, bitter laugh, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “They sold my house while I was still breathing,” you muttered, shaking your head like it was all some sort of cruel joke.

Seungcheol didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

He stood, gaze still fixed on you. His hands slid into the pockets of his coat as he glanced around the house, the house he’d chosen for you. Modern. Simple. Quiet. A space where no one could touch you, not even the people you thought you could trust.

“Forget them for now,” he said, his voice cutting through your thoughts like the snap of a thread. “This house is yours for as long as you want it.”

You lifted your eyes to him, doubt still lingering in the lines of your face. “And what if I don’t want it?”

His lips curved into a small, dangerous smile. “Then I’ll keep it for you until you do.”

He watched the way your brows twitched, how you clenched your jaw like you didn’t want to argue anymore. Smart girl. You knew when a battle wasn’t worth fighting.

"You're mine, after all," he added under his breath, the words barely a whisper but sharp enough to linger.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, sharp and unyielding. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Seungcheol.”

He grinned wider, his teeth flashing like a predator who’d already won. Ah, there she is. He’d missed that fire in you. Humans didn’t realize how much of themselves stayed the same, life after life. But he’d seen it. He’d seen you — fierce, stubborn, and unwilling to bend to anyone, not even him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice slow and smooth like honey drizzling from a spoon. “I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Seven hundred years. Thousands of lifetimes. And here you were, once again, right in front of him.

Time, after all, had never been a problem for him.

*

You had been living in Seungcheol's house for two months now, still on the slow path to recovery. The entertainment industry had labeled it a "hiatus," but it felt more like exile. Each day blended into the next with therapy sessions, quiet meals, and far too much time alone.

The last time you’d seen your manager was a month ago, a week after you were discharged from the hospital. She arrived unannounced, her presence loud and familiar in the otherwise quiet house. The moment she spotted Chan assisting you from the kitchen to the couch, her eyes had narrowed with suspicion.

“He’s helping me since I can’t move around on my own,” you’d explained casually, trying to deflect the sudden scrutiny.

“Then who is he?” she’d asked, her tone sharper this time.

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes narrowed further, like she was piecing together a mystery. Then she leaned in, eyes locked on yours. “The man pushing your wheelchair out of the hospital. Who is he?”

Your chest tightened. Seungcheol.

“I didn’t know you were in a relationship,” she continued, eyes darting between you and Chan like she was searching for signs of a hidden romance. “The CEO was ready to throw hands when he saw the media frenzy, but…” She shrugged, letting out a breathy laugh. “The reaction was positive, surprisingly. Everyone’s happy to see someone taking care of you after the accident.”

You stayed quiet, fingers curling into the blanket draped over your lap.

She was in that accident too. You'd forgotten. Her arm had been in a cast that day, her hand fractured and bruised. She showed you footage from the crash — grainy, black-and-white CCTV video from a nearby traffic camera. It played on her phone screen as you watched in silence.

The truck came out of nowhere, barreling through the red light. It struck your car right in the center — the exact spot where you’d been sitting. Metal crumpled like paper. Glass shattered into a blizzard of shards. Your heart lurched watching it, even though you’d lived it.

“The accident’s still under investigation,” she muttered, tapping the screen to replay it. Her eyes didn’t leave the footage. “The truck driver vanished. No trace of him anywhere.

Her words lingered in your mind long after she left.

That night, as you lay in bed, the realization settled in. You should have died that day.

The media, of course, had latched onto the man by your side. Photos and clips of Seungcheol pushing your wheelchair circulated like wildfire. He was too striking to be ignored. His sharp features, his composed demeanor, and the air of quiet authority he carried made it impossible for people to look away.

“I can’t believe you’re dating some insanely wealthy man behind my back!” your manager had teased, her grin wide, eyes sparkling with mischief. She clearly thought she was joking, but her words weighed heavier than she realized.

If only she knew. If only you knew.

You’d tried to escape him once — just once. Back at the hospital, during a physiotherapy session, you’d convinced yourself you could sneak away. With your wheelchair, you’d rolled slowly toward the exit, heart pounding in sync with each push of the wheels. Just a little further. Just a little more.

Then, suddenly, he was there.

Standing at the end of the hall, hands in his coat pockets, eyes locked on you like he’d been waiting the whole time.

“Going somewhere?” Seungcheol had asked, his voice calm but sharp. You froze. His eyes weren’t angry, but there was something in them that made you feel like a child caught sneaking out past curfew.

Your heart sank as he approached, slow, deliberate steps echoing down the hall. Without a word, he crouched behind your wheelchair and began pushing you back to the therapy room. No chance. No escape.

Now, he was gone.

“Mr. Choi has business with God,” Chan had explained casually one morning over breakfast, like it was normal. You’d stopped mid-bite, staring at him in disbelief.

“Business with God?” you repeated, the words foreign and bizarre on your tongue.

Chan only nodded, scooping rice into a bowl like it wasn’t the most absurd statement you’d ever heard. “He’ll be back in a few days.”

In the absence of Seungcheol, you’d spent more time with Chan. At first, you didn’t know what to make of him. He seemed normal enough — polite, helpful, always willing to assist. Until the night you saw it.

It had been a small argument, nothing serious. You’d gotten frustrated, snapped at him for not hearing you properly. He’d turned to face you, and for just a moment — a flash, like a flickering candle in a dark room — his eyes blurred with fire. Not anger, not metaphorical fire. Actual flames. His irises burned with molten gold and red, flickering like embers.

You froze, heart stuttering in your chest.

His eyes returned to normal as quickly as they’d changed.

Later, Seungcheol had scolded you. “He could burn this house to the ground if you make him angry again,” he’d said, voice stern like a parent warning a child not to play with fire. You hadn’t argued.

“Do you know why I’m his wife?” you asked Chan, your voice calm as you watched him prepare dinner. The question had been nagging at you for weeks.

He glanced up from the stove, eyes flicking to you like he was gauging how much to say. After a moment, he set the spatula down and walked over to the table, sitting across from you.

“Mr. Choi was a human,” he said, his tone steady but serious. “And you were his wife in the past.”

Your fork hovered in mid-air. “…He was human?”

Chan nodded, eyes never leaving yours.

The revelation sent a sharp chill down your spine. Seungcheol had never mentioned it. Not once. All you knew was that he was a demon, powerful beyond reason, and that he had abilities that humans could only call magic. You had never thought to ask where he’d come from or what he’d been before.

“How do you know that?” you asked, still trying to piece it all together.

Chan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed as he tilted his head, gaze thoughtful. “I was a gift,” he said slowly, like he was unraveling a memory he hadn’t touched in centuries. “A present from God to Mr. Choi. He told me about you back then.”

Your brows furrowed. “A present? Why would God give him a phoenix as a present?”

Chan shrugged, his expression distant, as if his mind had traveled far away. “Because he was sad,” he said quietly.

You frowned. “Why was he sad?”

He tilted his head the other way, eyes distant but warm with memory. “I don’t really remember,” he admitted, tapping a finger on the table. “But he’s always sad.”

Always sad.

Those words echoed in your mind long after dinner was over. It felt like the kind of truth no one says out loud, the kind that lives quietly in the shadows. Seungcheol was human. You were his wife. He’s always been sad.

Later that night, you sat by the window, staring at the moon. You wondered if he was looking at the same sky from wherever he was.

How long have you been sad, Seungcheol? you thought to yourself. And how long have you been searching for me?

The answers, you realized, would come in time. Seungcheol was nothing if not patient. Seven hundred years patient.

"Waiting for me?"

You jolted in your wheelchair, heart nearly leaping out of your chest. Seungcheol stood behind you, his presence as sudden and quiet as a shadow. You clutched at your chest, fingers pressing firmly against your ribs like you were trying to keep your heart from breaking free.

“Can you not do that?” you hissed, still catching your breath. “I could die of a heart attack.”

He chuckled, low and warm like distant thunder. “I’ll just save you from death again,” he replied, his grin sharp but not unkind.

He moved gracefully to the couch in front of you, sinking into it like a king on his throne. His eyes, dark and deep, fixed on you with quiet curiosity. “You seemed lost in thought,” he noted, tilting his head ever so slightly.

You sighed, glancing away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. It was still strange, looking at him. He had all the features of a man — pale skin, sharp jawline, and a face that looked like it had been carved with careful precision. If you’d passed him on the street, you’d think he was just another good-looking human. But now you knew better.

No one had ever taught you that demons could have soft brown eyes and smiles that made you forget to breathe.

Your voice came quieter this time, more careful, like you were testing your own courage. “You said you chose me.” You watched his face closely. “When we summoned you 15 years ago, instead of Jinah, you chose me. Was it because I was your wife… even before?”

His eyes lowered for a moment. Silence hung in the air like a held breath. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Yes,” he said quietly. “But you don’t remember.”

You swallowed, something tight forming in your throat. “Then why did you need a bride at all?” you pressed, brows knitting together. “Why a wife? You’re a demon. What would a demon need with a wife?”

His gaze lifted back to you, unreadable but steady. “It’s part of God’s plan,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “He always has a plan — for everyone, for everything.”

You watched him closely, eyes searching his face for something more. His voice was calm, his words sure, but his eyes.

Chan’s words echoed in your mind. “He’s always sad.”

You saw it now. It wasn’t loud or obvious. It wasn’t in the way he spoke or moved. It was in the small things — the way his eyes lingered on you, the way his shoulders always seemed to carry a weight no one else could see.

Your hand lifted on its own, slow and unthinking, like a force greater than you was guiding it. Your fingertips brushed his cheek, warm and solid beneath your touch. It was natural, effortless, like muscle memory from a life you no longer remembered.

“Is it part of His plan too?” you asked softly, your thumb grazing along his cheekbone. “To make you wait for 700 years?”

Seungcheol’s eyes flickered with something unspoken — a brief, vulnerable crack in his armor. But he didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached up, taking your hand in his. His palm was firm, steady, and for a moment, it felt like you were the one being held together.

He didn’t look at you as he stood, his hand slipping away from yours too soon. His back faced you as he started toward the hallway, his footsteps silent but certain.

“I’ll send Chan to get you to bed,” he said, his voice distant now, as if he’d already gone somewhere far away. “Rest well.”

And just like that, he was gone.

You sat there, staring at the space where he’d stood. His warmth lingered on your fingertips, his words circling your mind like a song stuck on repeat.

God’s plan. A wife. 700 years.

You wondered which part of the plan was meant for him — and which part was meant for you.

*

Seungcheol didn’t have a nightmare last night. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, the haunting dreams that plagued him since the day he chose you as his bride did not come. Instead, he woke up feeling unusually refreshed — as if he were human, ready to take on the day with renewed energy.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a slow exhale before stepping out of his room. The house was quiet, but the faint sound of shuffling reached his ears. Following it, he found Chan standing in front of you, his arm raised, supporting your weight as you trained yourself to walk again.

Chan had mentioned it before — that you’d been making progress, slowly but surely. But seeing it for himself stirred something in Seungcheol. Determination flickered in your eyes as you gritted your teeth, wobbling slightly with each step.

He moved toward you, his eyes locked on you with quiet focus. He didn’t say a word as he reached out, placing his hands firmly on your arms. A burst of energy surged from him to you — a gift of strength that only he could give.

His shoulders felt heavier instantly, the weight of his own body doubling as exhaustion seeped into his bones. It was a familiar strain, but he didn’t mind. He’d done it a thousand times before. You needed it more than he did.

"Isn't it taking you too long to start walking again?" Seungcheol teased lightly, his voice warm but sharp enough to stir you into action. "You must be tired of that wheelchair by now."

He lowered Chan’s arms, freeing you from the support, and moved slightly back, giving you space. His gaze was firm, unwavering, like he was daring you to prove him wrong.

"No, no, no!" you cried out, eyes wide with panic as you reached out for Chan. "Don't let go—"

But Seungcheol was faster. He pulled Chan away with ease, his smirk as sharp as ever. "You’re fine. Walk."

Your heart raced as you braced yourself, every muscle in your legs trembling. But then, something unexpected happened. You took a step. It wasn’t as hard as before. Your body moved with surprising ease, like something inside you had shifted.

"See?" Seungcheol’s voice was a quiet triumph. He stepped beside you, offering his arm. Without hesitation, you leaned on him, letting him guide you as you slowly took another step, and another.

“Wow…” you breathed, eyes darting around as you moved further than you had in weeks. “Demon power, huh?” you teased, glancing up at him.

He smirked down at you, his gaze glinting with pride. “Told you it works.”

"I’ll prepare food," Chan called out, excusing himself to the kitchen with a grin, clearly satisfied with your progress.

You let out a shaky laugh, glancing at Seungcheol with an expression that was part awe, part disbelief. "You know," you said between slow, steady steps, "if I’d known having a demon around would be this useful, I would’ve summoned one sooner."

Seungcheol chuckled, his voice deep and smooth like rolling thunder. "If only you knew what it cost me to be here."

Your smile faltered just a little, eyes darting to his face. His words carried more weight than you expected. But before you could ask, he guided you forward, his arm steady at your side.

“Focus,” he said softly. “One step at a time, wife.”

And just like that, your heart did that annoying little flip it had been doing more and more often lately.

"Shall we go to the garden?" Seungcheol's voice was low but firm, and you nodded, letting him guide you along the stone pathway of his serene, well-kept garden. The cool breeze carried the soft rustle of leaves, and the distant chirping of birds filled the quiet.

Your steps were slow but steady, each one a small victory. Seungcheol stayed by your side, his presence a steady anchor.

"How's your sleep?" he asked, glancing at you.

"I had a dream," you replied, gaze lost in thought.

"What kind of dream?"

You shook your head, trying to piece it together. "It felt like the Joseon era. I was wearing a hanbok—like, a princess’s hanbok. It was really elegant. I looked pretty, though." You smiled, lifting your chin with playful pride.

Seungcheol let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You were."

You turned to him, eyes widening in surprise. "Really?" There was a faint blush dusting your cheeks, and Seungcheol noticed it right away. He always noticed.

"I don't say it enough, but you were beautiful," he admitted, his gaze unwavering.

Your lips parted slightly, stunned by his sincerity. For a moment, you forgot how to walk. "You’re making me curious about my past lives," you said softly, your voice tinged with wonder. "What kind of person was I?"

He glanced at you, his eyes growing distant, like he was seeing something far away — something only he could see. His heart ached at the memories. You were always the same. Kind, beautiful, and selfless to a fault. You let yourself be pulled into an arranged marriage for the sake of your family. Your family betrayed you. Your husband betrayed you.

And worst of all, he betrayed you.

He killed you.

Seungcheol's chest felt tight. He took a deep breath, shaking his head free of the painful memories. He couldn't let you see that part of him. Not yet.

"You were a noisy wife," he finally said, his lips curling into a teasing grin.

You froze, eyes narrowing into sharp slits. "What?" Your hand shot out to slap his arm, but he dodged it with ease, laughing under his breath. You swung again, but this time, he caught your wrist and tugged you toward him.

"Hey—!" you yelped, stumbling forward.

He pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms firmly around you. It wasn’t a tight hold, just enough to keep you close. For a second, you stiffened, but the warmth of his body against yours made you relax. Slowly, you let your head rest against his chest.

Warmth.

For the first time in a long, long while, Seungcheol felt warmth. It seeped into his bones, into the cracks of his soul that he’d long thought would never heal.

The quiet hum of life around you both melted into the background. The past felt distant, and for a brief moment, it didn’t matter. But the past always had a way of creeping back in.

God had offered him a wife to end his task as a demon and earn a peaceful life in Heaven. But that wife — the one chosen for him — never arrived. Time after time, life after life, Seungcheol watched you. You were never meant to be his. You were meant for the world, not for him.

But God let him see you. Again and again. In every lifetime, you crossed his path. Sometimes as a stranger. Sometimes as a friend. Sometimes as someone out of reach. Each time, he pleaded. Each time, he begged.

"Please, just this once."

"Please, let it be her."

But God was silent.

“Heaven is only for those who work for it,” God had said during one of their rare conversations. “Work hard until you no longer desire it.”

For centuries, Seungcheol followed orders, accepting every task God gave him as a demon. For centuries, he hardened his heart, accepting that you were not his to have. He was ready to give it all up, ready to accept his fate as a demon forever.

Until the day you and your friends summoned him.

He still remembered the look on your face — wide-eyed, stunned, and just as beautiful as the day you were taken from him. You didn’t recognize him, of course. You were never supposed to. But something in you felt him.

That day, Seungcheol realized something.

God had answered him.

His bond with you had been restored, not by force, but by choice. God had let him have you again. It wasn’t a command. It wasn’t fate. It was a gift.

And Seungcheol had never been so grateful.

“Heaven is waiting for you and your cherished one,” God had told him once, long ago.

But Seungcheol didn’t care about Heaven anymore. He had already found it.

He pressed his chin lightly against the top of your head, his eyes shut as he let himself enjoy the warmth of you in his arms.

He wouldn’t lose you again.

No matter what.

*

You jolted awake, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The remnants of the nightmare clung to your mind like a heavy fog. You were back in the Joseon era, dressed in a hanbok that made you feel regal, yet trapped. You were in a room that resembled a royal bedroom, adorned with intricate tapestries and golden accents.

Then, the man appeared. He was so familiar, yet his face remained a blur, like a memory just out of reach. He approached you, pulling you into an embrace, and for a brief moment, you felt warmth and safety. But that feeling quickly turned to terror as pain shot through your stomach.

Your breath hitched, and the warmth flooding from your core felt too real. You could feel the blood pooling, the sharpness of the blade searing through your body. The pain was suffocating, overwhelming. The man's arms tightened around you, but his presence felt wrong. His face—familiar yet unrecognizable—hovered just beyond your reach. And then, you saw it—his eyes, full of regret, full of sorrow—but it didn’t stop the blade from twisting deeper.

"Y/n!" The man’s voice echoed in your ears, but it wasn’t the man you thought you knew. The pain intensified, and then, everything went black.

You gasped, your body jerking upright.

Seungcheol’s strong hands gripped your shoulders, his face a mix of concern and relief as he pulled you into the safety of his arms. Chan stood beside the bed, his expression tense, as if he had witnessed the nightmare unfold with you.

Seungcheol’s voice was soft but firm, “Y/n, you’re safe. It’s okay. It was just a dream.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, and your hands trembled as you placed them on your stomach, feeling the phantom pain that had lingered even after you woke. You were still shaken, the remnants of the nightmare crawling under your skin.

You pulled back slightly, your heart still racing, as the pieces of the nightmare began to click together. The man in the dream, the one who had held you so tightly, the one who had caused you such unbearable pain... It was him.

Your breath hitched, and you whispered in disbelief, “It was you…”

Seungcheol froze for a moment, his expression unreadable as the words hung in the air between you two. Chan, who had been standing silently by the door, shifted uncomfortably but remained quiet.

Seungcheol's gaze dropped to your hands, which were still trembling slightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady but tinged with an emotion you couldn’t place.

You shook your head, trying to piece together the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “But you said… You said we were married. That I was your wife.” The realization hit you like a cold wave, freezing every part of you except the ache in your chest. “Then… Why would you kill me?”

Seungcheol’s gaze darkened, his jaw tightening as the weight of centuries seemed to bear down on him. He move closer but didn’t speak right away. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment, as though the memory itself cut deeper than any wound could

“It’s just a dream,” Chan's voice broke the silence, his eyes darting between you and Seungcheol. He stood at the door, arms folded, his gaze sharp and knowing, like he was the only one who could truly read the room. “Don’t overthink it. Dreams are messy like that.”

But it wasn’t just a dream. You could feel it in your bones, in the lingering sensation of pain still curling in your stomach. It was too vivid, too visceral, as if you had lived it once before. And Seungcheol—he wasn’t denying it. He wasn’t saying anything at all.

Seungcheol glanced at you briefly, his face unreadable, before turning away like he couldn't bear to face you. Chan sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. The Phoenix, ever rational and collected, decided it was time to put out the flames. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned moments later with a cup of steaming peppermint tea.

“Drink this,” he said softly, placing it on your nightstand. His fingers hovered over the rim of the cup for a second longer than necessary, the warmth from the tea mirroring the warmth in his gaze. “It’ll calm you down. Bad dreams have a way of sticking to you, but they’re just that—dreams.”

You stared at the tea, then at Chan, then at Seungcheol. He sat at the edge of your bed, head bowed, one hand resting on his knee. He hummed softly, a tune unfamiliar but oddly comforting. The sound washed over you like a lullaby, pulling you into its gentle rhythm. The exhaustion from your nightmare crept back in, and before you knew it, your eyes grew heavier.

The last thing you saw was Seungcheol’s eyes on you. He wasn’t looking at you like a demon. He wasn’t looking at you like a monster. He was looking at you like a man weighed down by something heavier than the world itself.

When Seungcheol closed the bedroom door behind him, his eyes met Chan’s. The silence between them was sharp as a blade, tension hanging in the air like a fog that refused to lift. Chan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his golden eyes fixed on Seungcheol like he’d just uncovered a dark secret.

“It was her memory,” Chan said, his voice low but firm. There was no doubt in his tone. No hesitation. Seungcheol nodded slowly, confirming it without a word.

Chan’s eyes widened in shock. He tilted his head, as if seeing Seungcheol for the first time. “You killed her?” he whispered, his words quiet but cutting. He glanced toward your room, careful not to be overheard. “You killed your own wife, master?”

Seungcheol didn’t respond right away. He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, his eyes void of emotion. He looked tired. More than that, he looked… resigned.

“Why?” Chan asked, his voice tight with disbelief. “What do you want me to say, Chan?” Seungcheol’s voice was hollow, almost bitter. “Yes, I killed her. I killed the only person I was supposed to protect.”

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was filled with the weight of unspoken sins. Chan’s eyes flickered with flames—small but unmistakably angry flames, his pupils a swirling amber glow. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. His fingers flexed, and Seungcheol knew that if anyone else had confessed to such a thing, they would’ve been ashes by now.

But Chan didn’t lash out. He didn’t burn anything down. Instead, he lowered his head, his expression hard but thoughtful. “Why?” he asked again, this time slower, more controlled.

Seungcheol glanced at him, eyes hollow yet sharp. “Because I was desperate. Because I was weak. Because I was too afraid to lose her the way I had before. Fear doesn’t just eat at you—it consumes you until you’d rather burn everything down than face it.” His voice cracked near the end, but he steadied himself with a long, slow breath.

Chan stayed quiet, his gaze never leaving Seungcheol’s face. His eyes dimmed, no longer burning with anger but with something closer to understanding. “You regret it,” he stated, not as a question but as a fact.

Seungcheol let out a hollow chuckle, dragging a hand down his face. “Regret?” He shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve lived with that regret for hundreds of years, Chan. Regret is the only thing that stays with me no matter how many lives I live.”

Chan didn’t reply, but the air shifted. His eyes lingered on Seungcheol for a beat longer before he turned and started down the hall. But as he reached his bedroom door, he stopped.

Without looking back, he asked one last question. “Does she know?”

Seungcheol lowered his gaze, eyes distant as if he were somewhere far, far away. “Not yet.”

Chan glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sharp and knowing. “She will.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond, and Chan disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him.

Left alone in the hallway, Seungcheol leaned his back against the wall, eyes drifting to the ceiling. His chest rose and fell slowly, each breath deeper than the last.

He knew Chan was right. You would remember. It was only a matter of time. Memories from the past had a way of bleeding into dreams, and dreams had a way of dragging the truth to the surface. He had seen it happen before.

But Seungcheol wasn’t ready. Not yet. He still had time to figure out how to explain himself, how to make you understand. If you knew the full truth now, you would hate him, and he wouldn't blame you for it.

His eyes flickered with red as he pushed himself off the wall. He turned his gaze toward the sky visible through the window at the end of the hall. It was a deep, endless black, dotted with faint stars. Somewhere beyond that black sky, beyond the world of men and demons, God was watching. He was always watching.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Seungcheol muttered, his voice low but sharp. “Are you watching how everything’s falling apart? Is this your idea of a lesson?”

Silence. No answer. But Seungcheol wasn’t surprised. God had always been quiet when it mattered most.

His fists clenched, his nails biting into his palms. “If I’m supposed to repent, tell me how. If I’m supposed to atone, tell me what I need to do.” His breath came heavier, sharper, his voice trembling with something between rage and desperation. “If you want me to suffer, just say it. I’ll endure it. But don't make her suffer anymore. Please.”

Still, there was only silence. The weight of it pressed down on him harder than any curse or punishment ever could.

Seungcheol turned away from the window, his eyes dimmer than before. “Fine,” he muttered bitterly. “Keep watching. But when she remembers everything, don’t expect me to stay quiet.”

With that, he headed down the hall toward his own room, footsteps slow, his heart heavier than ever. The past was clawing its way back to you, and once it reached you, everything he had built with you could be reduced to dust.

But for now, you were still sleeping peacefully behind that door, and for now, that was enough.

Just for a little longer, he would hold onto the fragile peace between you.

*

“You guys are awfully quiet today,” you remarked, glancing over your shoulder as you prepped the vegetables. It was a rare sight — the demon and his phoenix companion both seated at the dining table, each hidden behind a newspaper like two old men with too much time on their hands. Neither of them offered a snarky reply, which only added to your curiosity.

The rhythmic sound of your knife chopping vegetables echoed softly in the kitchen. You moved with ease, the repetitive motion almost meditative — until it wasn’t. The weight of the knife in your hand suddenly felt different, heavier somehow, like something cold and sharp was pressing against your skin.

Your breath hitched. The sensation was far too familiar. Too vivid. It wasn't the smooth grip of the kitchen knife you felt — it was the cold, unyielding touch of a blade against your stomach. Your eyes widened as a sudden flash of your dream came rushing back.

“You okay?” Chan’s voice was gentle but sharp, his eyes already on you. Before you could respond, he was next to you, taking the knife from your hand with a quiet but firm grip. “I’ll take over.” His tone left no room for argument.

You nodded slowly, handing him the apron and stepping back. “Thanks,” you muttered, rubbing your hands together to ease the tension in your fingers.

You sat at the table beside Seungcheol, still a little dazed. The rustle of paper caught your attention as he lowered his newspaper, folding it neatly before turning to you. His dark eyes scanned you, quiet and calculating, like he could see every thought running through your mind.

“What do you think about the wedding next month?” he asked, his voice so casual it almost didn’t register at first.

The sound of Chan’s knife chopping on the cutting board abruptly stopped. You stiffened, eyes darting to Seungcheol, searching his face for any sign that he was joking. But he wasn't. His gaze was steady, unwavering, like he'd just asked if you wanted sugar in your tea.

"The… the wedding?" Your voice faltered as you blinked at him, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Next month?”

Chan’s knife resumed its steady rhythm, but slower now, more deliberate. Your heart, on the other hand, picked up speed.

Seungcheol tilted his head, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his lips tugging into a sly grin. “You’re the one who said you were ready, weren’t you?” he leaned in, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand. His voice was honey-smooth, but there was a sharpness underneath it, like a hidden blade. “I’m just following through.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. You did tell him you were ready. You’d said it with so much confidence, too. But that was before the dream. Before the flood of questions you couldn’t shake.

“I didn’t think it would be so soon,” you said slowly, trying to sound nonchalant. “A month feels… fast.”

“We’ve waited for lifetimes,” Seungcheol replied, eyes fixed on yours with quiet intensity. “A month is nothing.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. You knew he was being literal. The idea of reincarnation and past lives was still something you were trying to grasp, but Seungcheol talked about it like it was as normal as breathing. Every time he mentioned it, it felt like he was placing invisible weights on your chest.

“Don’t I get a say in the date?” you asked, trying to regain some semblance of control.

“You did.” His grin widened, sharper now. “When you said you were ready.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, ready to snap back with something clever, but the words didn’t come. He was playing you, and he knew it. Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, the very picture of smug satisfaction.

Chan placed the chopped vegetables into a pot, letting out a loud exhale like he was trying to release some of the tension. “I think she deserves a second opinion, Master,” Chan said, stirring the pot with a wooden spoon, his tone a little too neutral.

“And you think you’re the one to give it?” Seungcheol quipped, one brow raised.

“Better than you forcing a date on her.” Chan’s eyes flicked toward you, a knowing look flashing across his face before he glanced back at the pot.

You folded your arms, mirroring Seungcheol’s stance. “Yeah, I’m with Chan on this one.”

Seungcheol's eyes moved between you and Chan, his grin fading into something softer but more dangerous. His fingers drummed lightly on the table. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice low like a distant rumble of thunder. “We’ll discuss it. But no more stalling, Y/N. You said you were ready. Don’t take it back now.”

The way he said it wasn’t a threat, but it wasn’t a request either. It was a reminder. An unspoken promise.

You swallowed hard, forcing a light laugh as you reached for the tea Chan had poured earlier. “I’m not stalling,” you said, staring into the cup as if the swirling liquid could give you answers. “I just… want to be sure.”

Seungcheol didn’t respond immediately, and when you looked up, he was still watching you. Not like a predator. Not like a demon. But like a man waiting for something. An answer? A sign? A chance to explain himself?

Your fingers gripped the warm cup, and for a moment, you remembered the feeling of blood seeping through your hands in that dream. The phantom pain from the stab wound still lingered, sharp and fresh. You glanced at Seungcheol and, for the briefest moment, you saw it. A flicker of something in his eyes. Guilt, maybe. Regret, perhaps.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said suddenly, his tone quieter now. His gaze flickered down to the table before he lifted his eyes back to you. “I’m not the man you saw in your dream.”

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Your fingers tightened around the cup, eyes narrowing at him.

“I never told you about my dream.”

Seungcheol's eyes widened, if only for a split second. He didn’t flinch, didn’t break eye contact, but you saw the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. His tongue ran over his bottom lip, his gaze dropping for a moment too long.

“I guessed,” he said with a shrug, but the casual act didn’t fool you.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. Your silence was enough to make him shift in his chair, his hand running through his hair like he’d just realized he’d made a mistake.

You were sitting on the couch, absorbed in a late-night TV show, when Chan nudged you, shaking you out of your trance. You hadn’t even realized he was calling your name until he moved you gently, concern written across his face.

“What’s going on?” you asked, blinking in confusion. The room seemed to tilt for a moment, and before you could register what was happening, the images shifted. You were no longer in the safe, cozy space of your living room.

In front of you was a bloody war, swords clashing, people screaming as they fought under a stormy sky. The chaos felt so real, so vivid, it was as though you were right there in the middle of it. You looked around, panic rising in your chest, but all you could see were the bloodied soldiers fighting relentlessly. A knot formed in your stomach, and without thinking, you turned and fled, stumbling toward a room and locking the door behind you. Your heart pounded against your ribs, racing in time with the noise of battle outside.

“What was that?” you whispered to yourself, trying to catch your breath.

Suddenly, there was a knock at your door. You froze.

It was Seungcheol.

“Y/n? You okay? You’re pale,” Chan’s voice broke through your thoughts as he placed a plate of fruit in front of you, his eyes concerned.

You blinked rapidly, trying to shake the remnants of the war from your mind. “Where’s Seungcheol?” you asked, looking around, noticing the absence of the familiar presence that often made you feel safe.

Chan shrugged, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You always know where your master is. What’s going on? You two fight?” Your words came out teasing, but there was an underlying concern you couldn’t hide.

Chan’s lips curled into a small pout, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but think he resembled a bird, especially with the way his eyes softened. “Just angry.”

You couldn’t suppress a small laugh at his pout. “Aww, look at you, a cute bird,” you teased, brushing a stray strand of his hair out of his face. You shook your head, snapping yourself out of the moment. “But seriously, what’s going on? You guys fight over something important?”

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in a dramatic fashion. “Just found out something he’s been hiding from me for a hundred years,” Chan muttered, his voice carrying a hint of frustration.

Your curiosity piqued. “And it is?” You leaned in slightly, eager to hear more.

Chan’s expression darkened, and he shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You? Keeping a secret? I didn’t know birds could do that.” You grinned, teasing him again.

He sat up straight, flapping his arms in mock indignation. “I’ve always been able to keep a secret!” His eyes widened with mock offense, but there was a playful twinkle in his gaze.

You chuckled, feeling the tension in your chest loosen slightly. “Alright, alright, you’ve got your secrets. But can’t you tell me just a little bit? Just a hint?”

Chan’s face softened, his gaze shifting to the floor, clearly wrestling with something in his mind. He fidgeted uncomfortably before speaking again, his voice quieter now. “It’s about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. “About me?” you repeated, leaning in closer, searching his eyes for any clues.

Chan bit his lip, clearly torn. “It’s something only Mr. Choi can tell you. I can’t say more. But… just trust me, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly, taking in his words. It was clear that whatever this secret was, it was huge, and Chan wasn’t about to break his master’s trust.

You nodded, realizing this was one mystery you wouldn’t be able to solve on your own. However deep inside, you felt an uneasy stir at the thought of what this secret could be.

Chan’s voice broke through your thoughts again, softer this time. “Do you love him?”

The question caught you off guard. For a moment, you were frozen, your mind racing as you tried to understand the weight of what he was asking. You glanced at him, noticing the serious look on his face. It was unlike the usual playful banter between you two, and something about his demeanor made you pause.

“What do you mean, love him?” you asked, your voice quieter now, almost as if you were questioning yourself. Your thoughts immediately shifted to Seungcheol.

How had he treated you?

He was always there when you needed him, gentle and patient, offering you warmth and safety. He had protected you when you felt vulnerable and helped you navigate through the chaos of everything supernatural. His presence had always felt like a comfort, a steady anchor in the storm.

The way he looked at you, his eyes so full of emotion, and how he spoke to you with such care and respect—no one had ever treated you like that before. It felt like you were his priority, always.

A small, unsure smile tugged at your lips. “I… I think he’s treated me better than anyone ever has.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you instantly realized the truth behind them.

It wasn’t just the way Seungcheol had taken care of you. It wasn’t just his kindness or the way he always made sure you were safe.

It was the way your heart fluttered when he was around, the way he made you feel seen and cared for, the way your pulse quickened when he smiled at you. Everything he did, every little gesture, made you feel special, and that feeling had grown inside you, so quietly and steadily that you hadn’t even realized it until now.

“I think… I might like him,” you murmured, the realization hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. But then, a small fear crept in, a hesitation in your chest. “Or maybe… I love him?”

Chan’s eyes softened as he watched you, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not a bad thing, you know.” He paused, his tone sincere now. “He feels the same about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and a warmth spread across your chest. The idea that Seungcheol might feel the same way about you, that he might be going through something similar, left you breathless.

But as the silence settled between you and Chan, you realized that you didn’t need to figure it all out right away.

For the first time, the idea of love—real, unspoken love—seemed less terrifying and more like something worth exploring. Something you were ready to embrace.

As you sat there, letting the weight of everything sink in, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm. Whatever was to come, whatever the future held for you and Seungcheol, you knew one thing for sure: you were no longer running from your feelings. You were ready to face them, to understand them, and maybe, just maybe, to love him too.

*

Is it love? Or is it guilt?

Seungcheol couldn’t differentiate it anymore. Every time he looked at you, the warmth in his chest surged, as it always had. You were just as beautiful, gentle, and kind as you had been before. And yet, the thought of you loving him back felt like a nightmare he couldn't escape.

"She will forget you until she loves you again," the words echoed in his mind, words spoken by a voice long past but still haunting him.

Was the return of your memories a sign that you might love him again?

The idea should have filled him with relief, with hope, but instead, it only made him uneasy. The more you remembered, the more it felt like he was walking closer to the edge of a cliff—one he’d already fallen off once.

And then, the truth hit him with a weight he couldn’t shake: If you remembered everything—every betrayal, every lie, every death—what would happen to the fragile bond you were starting to form again? You had promised, in your past life, that you would never love him again.

How could he live with the fact that he had once killed you, the woman he loved, and then had to watch you remember it all over again?

The fear that gripped Seungcheol was suffocating. It was the nightmare he had long tried to bury deep inside himself, the nightmare that now threatened to resurface as your memories awakened.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to step away. Every part of him wanted you, wanted to protect you, to make up for the damage he had caused in every life, but how could he? How could he expect you to forgive him, let alone love him again, after everything he had done?

It felt like a cycle he couldn't escape. Every time you got closer, the ghosts of his past pulled him further away from you. And yet, his heart couldn’t help but yearn for the possibility, for the hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

But that fear… that deep, gnawing fear of losing you again—of repeating the same painful mistake—was a burden he didn’t know how to carry.

“I think I love you,” He raised his head, and his eyes met yours. There was something haunting about them. Not sadness. Not guilt. It was worse, like he was staring past you, into something only he could see.

“You don’t remember everything yet,” he finally said, voice low like a distant rumble of thunder. His gaze shifted down to his hands, fingers curling slowly. “If you did, you wouldn’t say that.”

His words made your heart pound in your chest. “What do you mean?”

Seungcheol leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands. His broad shoulders lifted and fell with a heavy sigh, and you could feel it — the weight of something unspoken hanging between you.

“In one of your past lives,” Seungcheol started, swallowing hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed like he was choking on the words. “I killed you.”

Your breath hitched, like all the air had been stolen from your lungs. “What?”

His eyes stayed on you, unwavering, as if he’d been preparing himself for this moment for centuries.

“You were supposed to be punished,” Seungcheol continued, his words heavier than stone. “Because of your father. He betrayed the king — my father. They were going to execute you. Everyone wanted it to be a public display. They wanted you to suffer.” His eyes darkened, like he was seeing it happen all over again. “I couldn’t let them do that to you.”

Your body froze. Everything about him felt too close, too real, too raw.

“So you did it yourself,” you whispered, your voice hollow.

He nodded slowly. “I thought it would be mercy. I thought it would be kinder if it was me.” His jaw clenched, and he looked away from you, eyes fixed on the night sky like it could offer him solace. “But it wasn’t. It was the cruelest thing I could’ve done.”

Your head was spinning, the image from your dream flashing before your eyes — the hanbok, the royal chamber, the warmth flooding from your core. The man who held you. The knife. The betrayal.

“It was you,” you breathed, feeling like you were falling from a great height. Your heart clenched, your throat tight as if you’d been stabbed all over again.

“I’m sorry.” The words came out strained, like they had been trapped inside him for centuries. “I begged God to curse me instead. To punish me, not you.” He let out a hollow laugh, filled with self-loathing. “And He did.”

You stared at him, unblinking. “That’s why you’re... ”

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on the sky, as if he didn’t have the right to face you. “I killed the only person I ever loved. That was my sin. So He made me immortal. A demon bound to the living world, forced to watch you live and die over and over again, knowing you’d never forgive me.” His gaze shifted to you slowly, like he was afraid of what he’d see. “And I deserve it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but they didn’t fall. Your chest ached, every breath feeling like it was dragging in broken glass.

“You kept this from me,” you said, voice trembling but sharp. “All this time, you never told me.”

“Would it have changed anything?” he asked quietly. “Would you have stayed if you knew?”

You didn’t answer, because you didn’t know.

Seungcheol leaned back, his head resting against the wall, eyes closed as if he was bracing for something. “I knew this day would come. I knew you’d remember. And I knew you’d hate me.”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Your heart was at war with itself. Anger. Sadness. Hurt. But somewhere, hidden beneath the storm of it all, was something else.

Love.

Because even if he was a demon, even if he had killed you once, Seungcheol was still the one who protected you. The one who held you together when you were falling apart. The one who saw you when no one else did.

But now, you didn’t know which part of you was speaking — the woman from the past or the woman you were now.

“Go,” you whispered, your voice breaking like shattered glass.

“Y/n…” His voice wavered, and he reached for you.

“I said go!” You shot to your feet, stepping back as if he had already hurt you. Your breath was shallow, your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t — I can’t think. Just go.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. He stayed there, watching you with eyes that held centuries of regret. But then he stood. No argument. No plea. He walked toward the door, his every step slow and deliberate.

He stopped at the doorway, his back still to you. “I’ll go,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll never stop watching over you. Even if you hate me for the rest of your life, I won’t stop.”

The door clicked shut.

And finally, the tears fell.

*

Seungcheol thought he was hallucinating when he saw you sitting casually on one of the couches. His heart stilled, eyes narrowing in disbelief. This wasn’t his house — it was the house between worlds, a place unreachable by mortals. Yet, there you were, as if you belonged there all along.

“Why are you here?” he asked, voice sharp with confusion, his eyes locked on you as if you'd vanish if he blinked.

Before you could answer, a blur of flames shot through the room. Seungcheol tilted his head just in time to see Chan flying in his Phoenix form, flames trailing behind him like ribbons of light. With a single spin, Chan landed gracefully on Seungcheol’s shoulder, now in his small bird form, feathers slightly charred.

It didn’t take Seungcheol long to figure it out. Regeneration. Chan had recently gone through it. But that only raised more questions. His eyes darted between you and the Phoenix.

You grinned, hands lazily tracing the edge of a nearby shelf. “So, how's the wedding planning going?” you asked, your tone light, playful, like you were discussing a friend's weekend plans. Your nonchalance only made Seungcheol’s unease deepen.

He took a step forward, eyes narrowing further. “You're dead... again?” His voice was laced with disbelief and a hint of exhaustion. This can’t be happening.

You glanced over your shoulder with a sly smile. “Blame your Phoenix pet.” Your eyes flicked to Chan, who suddenly preened his feathers as if he’d done nothing wrong. "He decided to burn down the house while I was sleeping off a couple of sleeping pills.”

Seungcheol’s gaze snapped to Chan, his eyes sharp like a blade. “You burned the whole house down while regenerating?”

You were drowning. Not in water, but in the weight of everything that Seungcheol had left behind. The nights felt colder without him, the silence sharper, and the world dimmer. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You told yourself you were strong, that you didn’t need him.

Every night, you lay awake, tangled in bedsheets that smelled like nothing at all. Your dreams weren’t yours anymore. They were his. The visions came like cruel reminders — flashes of him, his eyes watching you, his hand reaching out just as you jolted awake. You gasped for breath as if clawing your way out of an endless abyss.

They said loving a demon had a price. But nobody told you the cost would be this.

You sat on the edge of your bed, eyes hollow from the sleepless nights that had stolen days from you. Your fingers ran across the label of a bottle of pills, the cool plastic oddly comforting against your skin.

One pill.

But silence didn’t come.

Two pills.

Three pills. The weight on your chest lightened just a little. Or maybe that was just hope.

It should have stopped there.

But it didn’t.

Four. Five. Six. Each one easier than the last. No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just the steady hum of nothingness promising to cradle you.

You lost count somewhere between "this is fine" and "I don't want to feel anymore."

And then, everything went dark.

Chan was already watching.

He had watched you for weeks, seen the cracks in your resolve, the quiet pain you tried to bury under fake smiles.

But this… this was different.

He saw the bottle roll from your hand, spinning slowly until it lay still on the floor. You had slumped over on the bed, your breathing uneven, shallow. He heard it — that faint, struggling gasp for air.

And he knew.

He knew what was happening.

"Killing someone is a sin, including killing yourself."

That was what Seungcheol had told him after his first regeneration. It wasn’t a lesson Chan had forgotten, because it had been one of the only times his master had looked at him with fear.

That day, Seungcheol's voice had been as sharp as his eyes. "Don’t play with death, Chan. Phoenixes don’t die — they burn to become better. But if you’re not careful, you’ll mistake destruction for growth.”

His master had been shaken. Chan knew it wasn’t for himself. It was for the thought of someone else trying to do the same.

Chan had always been curious about that. What made demons, demons? If Seungcheol was cursed into becoming a demon because of sin, because he took a life that wasn’t his to take, then maybe…

Maybe it worked both ways.

“Regeneration,” Chan muttered to himself, his wings fluttering as he hopped from the windowsill to the edge of the bed. His sharp gaze scanned you, taking in every detail. The slow rise and fall of your chest. The way your fingers twitched slightly. You were still alive — barely.

He tilted his head. It could work.

If taking a life can curse you into a demon...

His gaze hardened with resolve.

Then maybe taking your own life could do the same.

"Don’t hate me for this," he muttered, his hand flexing at his side, heat radiating from his fingertips. He raised his palm, a small orb of fire flickering into existence, the soft hum of flames the only sound in the quiet room.

He glanced at you one more time, his gaze softening. He didn’t want to do it. But the alternative was worse.

The flames grew brighter, the heat curling in the air around him. His eyes didn’t leave yours, even as smoke began to rise from the carpet. The first spark caught, spreading faster than even he expected. The flames crawled like hungry beasts, licking the edges of the bed frame, the walls, and finally the sheets beneath you.

Chan didn’t look away. He couldn’t.

His master had warned him that fire was a dangerous thing. That flames could destroy as easily as they could cleanse.

But this wasn’t destruction.

This was rebirth.

Seungcheol froze, realization hitting him like a stone to the chest. “No,” he muttered, his eyes wide with disbelief. His breathing grew shallow as he glanced at you, sitting there so calmly on the couch, your fingers tracing the seam of the cushion like none of this mattered. “You didn’t.”

Chan straightened, his face hardening with resolve. “I did.”

Seungcheol lunged at him, grabbing Chan by the collar and yanking him forward. “You burned her?!” he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the space. Chan’s eyes didn’t waver, despite the threat in front of him.

“She was already gone,” Chan shot back, voice sharp, his eyes unwavering. “Do you know how many pills she took?” His voice cracked on the last word, his fingers curling into fists. “She was dying, Master! I just…” His gaze flickered to you, his jaw tightening. “I just gave her a chance.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” Seungcheol roared, his voice full of something raw, something close to desperation. His grip on Chan’s collar tightened. “You think you know how to control life and death now?”

Chan didn’t back down. He leaned forward, meeting Seungcheol's gaze head-on. “I learned it from you.”

Those words hit Seungcheol harder than any blade. His grip loosened, and Chan shoved him back with a scowl.

“She wasn’t supposed to die,” Chan muttered, adjusting his collar. “She wasn’t supposed to leave us.” His voice was softer this time, quieter, like he wasn’t just talking to his master but to himself. "So I did what you did. I used fire to rewrite fate."

Seungcheol ran a hand down his face, exhaling slowly, eyes flickering toward you. His gaze softened, but it was tinted with something more fragile—guilt.

Your eyes met his, calm yet sharp. You tilted your head. “You’re mad at him?” you asked, gesturing toward Chan with a lazy wave of your hand. “But didn’t you do the same thing once?”

Seungcheol’s body went rigid. His gaze flickered, his lips parting, but no words came out.

“You killed me too, didn’t you?” you said it so plainly, so casually, as if it were something as mundane as asking about the weather. You tilted your head, watching him closely, like you were trying to gauge his reaction. “Didn’t you, Seungcheol?”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Chan looked away, his jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin line.

Seungcheol stared at you like he’d just been stabbed. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his fists curling slowly at his sides. He tried to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

"You’re really bad at hiding it,” you said with a small, bitter smile. “Every time I dream about it, I see you. You always look the same.” You leaned forward, resting your arms on your knees, eyes sharp like a blade poised to strike. “So tell me, Seungcheol. Tell me what you did.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

You raised an eyebrow. “If you can’t say it, I will.” You leaned forward further, close enough that your gaze was all he could see. Your voice was low, cold, and unforgiving. “You killed me.”

Seungcheol closed his eyes. As if by doing so, he could escape it. As if shutting out the world would make it less real.

“I did,” he whispered, his voice hollow, broken at the edges. His eyes opened slowly, filled with something heavy, something that had been weighing on him for centuries. “I killed you.”

You stared at him, your gaze unwavering, piercing straight through him. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink.

“Why?” you asked, voice so soft it felt like a dagger sliding between ribs.

Seungcheol’s lips parted, but nothing came out. His jaw clenched, his shoulders tense like he was holding up the weight of the world. "Because they were going to do worse." His voice was sharp, tight like he was forcing every word out of his throat. "Your father was declared a traitor. The entire kingdom wanted you dead. They would’ve dragged you through the streets, humiliated you, torn you apart piece by piece."

He lifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with something more painful than regret—remorse.

“I didn’t want them to have that power over you,” he said, his voice hoarse like he’d been screaming silently for centuries. “So I did it myself.”

You froze. The weight of his words pressed down on you, sinking deep into your chest. You felt the air leave your lungs, your vision blurring for a second before you blinked it away.

“Because you loved me,” you whispered, barely a breath of sound.

Seungcheol’s face twisted in agony. “Yes.”

You leaned back, shoulders tense, hands curling into fists on your lap. A bitter laugh escaped you, sharp and hollow. "You loved me," you echoed, each word laced with venom. “And you still killed me.”

Seungcheol’s eyes shut tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, but you saw the crack in his armor. His hands trembled at his sides. Don’t look at me like that.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing. "What did it feel like, Seungcheol?” you asked, your voice ice cold. "When you looked at me for the last time and decided I had to die—what did it feel like?”

He didn't answer. He couldn’t. His silence spoke louder than words ever could.

“Was it quick?” you pressed, your voice rising. “Did you hesitate? Did you stop for even a second?”

“Stop it,” Seungcheol muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Or did you tell yourself you were doing it for me?” Your eyes locked onto his, burning like an open flame. “Did you think that would make it hurt less?”

“Stop it!” Seungcheol roared, his voice cracking like thunder. His chest heaved, eyes wild as he took a step back, gaze filled with something that looked too much like fear.

“But you didn’t stop,” you said, voice sharp like a blade dragging against stone. “You didn’t stop, Seungcheol. Not when I begged. Not when I cried. Not even when I called your name.”

Seungcheol flinched as if you’d struck him. His eyes squeezed shut, his jaw locking tight as his hands curled into fists. He stood perfectly still, like if he moved even an inch, he’d break.

“Do you know what it’s like to look at someone you love and realize they’ve already decided you’re better off dead?” Your voice trembled but didn’t break. Each word hit him harder than the last, cutting deeper, sharper. “Do you know what it’s like to feel their hands on you, to feel their warmth one second and cold steel the next?”

His breathing grew shallow. He shook his head, eyes still shut. “Don’t do this.”

“I felt it, Seungcheol,” you continued, your voice louder now, raw with every ounce of pain you’d buried for so long. “I remember it now. The way you looked at me—like you were trying to convince yourself it was mercy.” You stepped closer, each step slow and deliberate, the weight of your words following you. “But it wasn’t mercy, was it?”

His eyes snapped open, wild and desperate. "I had no choice!" he roared, voice cracking like thunder. "They were going to drag you through the streets, humiliate you, torture you—I couldn’t let them do that to you!"

His chest heaved with every breath, his gaze frantic like a man drowning with no shore in sight. “I thought... I thought if it had to be done, it should be me,” he said, his voice quieter now, trembling with the weight of it all. “I thought you’d understand.”

Your eyes filled with tears, but none of them fell. Your chest rose and fell with slow, controlled breaths, trying to hold yourself together when all you wanted to do was scream. “Understand?” you echoed, disbelief laced in every syllable. “You think I’d understand that you killed me?” You took another step forward, eyes blazing. “I would’ve fought, Seungcheol. I would’ve fought them until my last breath. I didn’t need you to ‘save’ me.”

His lips parted, but no words came out. For once, he had nothing to say.

“You didn’t save me, Seungcheol,” you said, voice hollow now. “You stole me.”

Silence hung between you like an unbearable weight. Chan stood off to the side, gaze flickering between the two of you, his expression unreadable. He didn’t interfere. He knew this wasn’t his fight.

“I thought…” Seungcheol’s voice cracked, so soft it barely reached you. “I thought you’d hate me.” He looked at you now—not as a demon, not as a king’s son, but as a man stripped bare, raw and broken. “But I didn’t think you’d remember.”

You let out a sharp breath, a humorless laugh escaping you. “Hate you?” you repeated, eyes narrowing. “I hated you so much I swore I’d never love you again.” Your voice broke on the last word, but you didn’t stop. You refused to stop. "I told myself, in my next life, I would never let myself fall for you again.”

Your gaze softened, but it wasn’t with love—it was with pity.

“And look at me now,” you whispered, voice thick with bitterness. “Back where I started.”

Seungcheol's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

“Do you know what’s worse than hating you, Seungcheol?” you asked quietly, each word laced with an ache he could feel in his bones. “It’s realizing that after everything, after the lies, after the betrayal, after the blade you put in my heart…” You took one last step, close enough that he could feel your breath against his skin. “I still love you.”

His world shattered. You saw it in the way his eyes flickered, his hands twitching as if he wanted to reach for you but knew he had no right. He looked at you like you were something holy he had defiled with his own hands.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice breaking apart. “Don’t say that.”

“Why?” you challenged, eyes blazing with the weight of a thousand lifetimes of pain. “Because you don’t deserve it?” You leaned in, voice sharp and unforgiving. “You don’t. You never did.”

His breathing hitched, his shoulders trembling as he took a step back, eyes locked on you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. "I know," he rasped, his voice raw, wrecked. "I know I don't."

“Then why do you look at me like you still want it?” you shot back, and he staggered as if you’d struck him.

You stared at him, heart aching in a way that was far too familiar. Love was supposed to be kind, warm, gentle. But with him, it was brutal. It tore through you, raw and unyielding, like an old scar reopening over and over again.

“Seungcheol,” you said quietly, no anger, no malice—just the simple, unbearable truth. “You killed me once. And somehow, you’re still killing me.”

He dropped to his knees. His hands pressed against the ground as if the weight of your words was too much to carry. His head hung low, eyes shut tight, his breath coming out in short, shallow gasps. He looked like he was praying for forgiveness. But he knew better than anyone—demons don't get to pray.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking like something inside him had finally broken. He pressed his forehead to the ground, his hands gripping the dirt beneath him like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The sound of his voice, so broken, so desperate, filled the room like a haunting melody. He didn’t lift his head. He didn’t dare look at you. For a demon like him, lowering himself like this was an act of surrender, an admission of every sin, every failure.

But you didn’t move. You didn’t reach out.

“Sorry won’t bring me back,” you said softly, your voice steady even as your eyes stung with unshed tears. You watched him crumble before you, the weight of his sin finally crushing him. “Sorry won’t undo what you did.”

He didn’t reply. He just stayed there, on his knees, forehead pressed to the ground like a man waiting for judgment.

But judgment never came.

Instead, you turned away. Your heart felt heavier than ever, but you walked past him, step by step, until he was behind you. You didn’t look back.

“Don’t follow me, Seungcheol,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, but he heard every word. "Not this time."

He didn’t move. He didn’t chase you. He stayed on his knees, still and silent, with only the sound of his shallow breathing to remind him that he was still alive. Alive but not living.

Chan glanced at his master, his eyes filled with something that could’ve been pity or disappointment. He looked away, his gaze following you instead.

“She’ll never stop loving you, you know,” Chan muttered, his voice carrying across the room. “That’s the curse, isn't it?”

Seungcheol didn’t answer. His fingers dug into the ground, eyes still shut, the weight of eternity pressing down on him.

"She'll keep loving you, even when it hurts." Chan's gaze softened as he watched you disappear beyond the door. “And you'll keep hurting her, won’t you?”

Still, Seungcheol said nothing.

Because he knew.

That was the curse.

The curse of love.

Of sin.

Of demons who dared to love like mortals.

The end

[cherry-zip]

─ • CSC .ᐟ Kindergarten Crush

› content ┆ ceo scoups x kindergarten teacher fem reader, fluff ✎ word-count .ᐟ 3.3k. ⌁ summary ┆CEO Choi Seungcheol can not help but fall in love with the one kindergaten teacher who takes best care of his son while he is late. He's making it his mission to be the best father so you would accept to love and take care of him too.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated!

It was the kind of late afternoon when the last streaks of sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, casting a warm glow on the cozy space inside. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of a cartoon playing on the projector screen. A blanket was spread across the floor, surrounded by pillows of every shape and color. In the middle of it all were two figures: a small boy, whose legs were tucked beneath him as he sat cross-legged on the blanket, and his teacher, you, sitting beside him with a gentle smile on your face.

You were everything a child could ask for in a teacher—warm, caring, and endlessly patient. Your laughter was infectious, and your ability to make every child feel seen and heard was unmatched. You had a particular soft spot for one student in your class, a tiny boy named Seungwoo. He was shy, and often a bit reserved, but there was something in his wide eyes and sweet smile that melted your heart every time.

That day, Seungwoo had stayed after school, as he often did, for some extra playtime in the reading zone waiting for his father to pick him up. His classmates had all gone home, and you had promised him you'd watch his favorite cartoon together. And so, there you both were—Seungwoo nibbling on a cookie as he snuggled into a pillow beside you.

"Are you sure your mom and dad don't mind you staying a bit longer, Seungwoo?" you asked softly, your eyes twinkling with affection as you handed him another cookie.

Seungwoo shook his head, a tiny smile forming on his lips. "Dad's always busy, but he likes it when I stay here. He says I’m safe with you."

Your heart swelled with warmth at his words. "Well, you're safe with me anytime, sweetie. And I'll always have cookies and cartoons waiting for you."

Just as the cartoon reached its climax, the sound of the door opening made you turn. Standing in the doorway, looking every bit as polished and serious as he always did, was Choi Seungcheol, the CEO of a major tech company. Also well known for his handsome looks. His sharp dark suit and expensive watch contrasted with the cozy, colorful childlike atmosphere of the classroom, but the sight before him made his chest tighten.

There, sitting cross-legged on the floor, was his son Seungwoo, laughing and enjoying his time with you. You were sharing cookies, the kind you always baked with your students in mind, and sipping on fruit juice as you watched the cartoon. The sight of you—your gentle smile as you carefully adjusted a pillow for Seungwoo, the way Seungwoo’s face lit up every time you spoke—was so pure, so heartwarming, that Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat.

His usual sharp and composed demeanor faltered for a split second as he stood there, taking in the moment. He hadn’t expected to find such a sweet scene after his long day of meetings, but it was exactly what he needed to see. It felt like everything he had worked so hard for—his long hours and high-pressure job—was being undone by something as simple as this: someone’s love and attention for his son.

You noticed him standing there, and your face lit up in that familiar, welcoming smile. "Ah, Mr. Choi! I didn’t expect you this late. Seungwoo wanted to stay a little longer, so we’re just finishing up with some cookies and a cartoon. How was your meeting?"

Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile, softer than usual. "It went well, thank you. I’m sorry for being late."

Seungwoo, noticing his father, scrambled to his feet, rushing over to him with a bright grin. "Dad! You’re here!" he exclaimed, holding up a cookie in the offering. "Want one?"

Seungcheol’s heart melted at his son’s enthusiasm. "Sure," he said, crouching down to accept the cookie, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. You smiled at him kindly, and for the first time in a long while, Seungcheol felt his shoulders relax.

As they all sat together on the blanket, Seungwoo between you two, Seungcheol found himself drawn into the warmth of the moment. The laughter and comfort that filled the room seemed to melt away the tension of his busy, corporate life. It was strange, how just being in this simple, peaceful setting made everything feel... right.

Over the next few weeks, Seungcheol made a quiet promise to himself. He had always been a man of routine, arriving at the school late after long hours of meetings, but now he found himself arriving just a little earlier each day. He would make sure to stop by the classroom after work, even if just for a few minutes. He wanted to see that smile you always greeted him with, to hear your gentle voice speaking to his son, making him feel safe and cared for.

Every time he saw you, a flutter would rise in his chest. You were so effortlessly kind, so good to Seungwoo. He had never realized how much of an impact a teacher could have on a child’s life until now. And perhaps—just perhaps—he was beginning to wonder what kind of impact you could have on his life, too.

One afternoon, as he arrived a little earlier than usual, you were sitting at your desk, grading papers with a focused expression. Your hair was loosely tied back, and the soft light from the window framed your face in a way that made you look even more beautiful. Seungcheol hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the doorframe.

"Hi," he said, his voice low but steady.

You looked up and smiled warmly. "Mr. Choi, you’re early today. Is everything alright?"

He took a deep breath, the weight of the moment not lost on him. "Yes. Everything’s fine," he replied. "I... I just wanted to say thank you. For everything you do for Seungwoo. He really loves being here with you."

You blinked in surprise at the sincerity in his voice. "It’s my pleasure, Mr. Choi. Seungwoo is such a sweet boy. He’s a joy to have in class."

Seungcheol’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He stood there for a moment longer, unsure of how to express what he was feeling. But there, in the quiet space of the classroom, he realized that perhaps some things didn’t need words. Not yet, anyway.

As he walked over to where Seungwoo was playing with a set of blocks, you joined them, and for the first time in a long while, Seungcheol didn’t mind staying a little longer. He knew he would be coming to school more often now, not just to pick up his son, but because—perhaps—there was more to discover in this little classroom with its cozy reading zone, pillows, and blankets.

It wasn’t just the cookies that kept him coming back. It was you.

The following days seemed to pass in a blur, but each one held something special for him. He found himself eagerly anticipating the moment when he'd arrive at the school, hoping to catch just a glimpse of you. And it wasn’t just about Seungwoo anymore—though, of course, he adored his son and cherished the time they spent together. But there was something else now, something he couldn't quite put into words, that drew him back to the classroom every day.

Each afternoon, he would arrive a little earlier, hoping to find the moment when you and Seungwoo were still together, sharing their cookies and watching cartoons. He loved the way you laughed at the silly moments in the show and the way you gently encouraged Seungwoo to try new things, even as you made him feel comfortable at his own pace.

One particular Thursday, Seungcheol arrived with a little more excitement than usual. He had no meetings scheduled for the afternoon, so he was able to leave work early. When he entered the school, he was greeted by the soft murmur of children’s voices and the sweet scent of cookies wafting through the hallway. He smiled to himself as he walked toward the classroom. He could hear the familiar sound of your voice before he even reached the door.

"Okay, Seungwoo, what’s your guess? Will it be the blue one or the green one?"

Seungwoo giggled. "The green one! It’s always the green one!"

He stopped for a moment, listening to the laughter. He couldn't help but smile, feeling warmth in his chest. He pushed open the door and saw a familiar scenery—Seungwoo sitting on the blanket, legs crossed, with you beside him. You were playing a guessing game, and there were cookies scattered around. Your eyes lit up when you saw him.

"Mr. Choi! You’re here early today!" you said, your voice full of pleasant surprise.

Seungcheol, slightly embarrassed by how eager he felt, nodded. "I finished my work early. Thought I’d pick Seungwoo up and maybe stay for a bit."

You smiled warmly, your gaze lingering just a little longer than usual. "You’re welcome to join us, of course. We were just playing a game. Want to try?"

Seungwoo looked up, his face lighting up. "Dad, you can play too! We’re guessing the color of the candy!"

He chuckled, feeling an unexpected sense of comfort. He was used to boardroom meetings, not children's games, but something about being in this space with you and Seungwoo made him feel at ease. "Alright, I’ll give it a try," he said, taking a seat on the floor beside them. The warmth of the moment was enough to make him forget the hectic hours he spent in high-rise offices.

As you played the game, he found himself enjoying the simplicity of the moment. He listened to Seungwoo’s innocent guesses and watched you with encouraging smiles. Your laughter echoed in his heart, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was experiencing something rare, something that transcended the world of high-powered deals and deadlines.

It was clear that you had a way of making everyone around you feel special. Your love for teaching, your care for each student, and your kindness toward them had started to make a significant impact. He found himself lingering a little longer each day, unable to tear himself away from the peaceful atmosphere you created in that little classroom.

By Friday, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Seungcheol realized that he was beginning to look forward to his time together with you, even if it was just a few minutes at the end of the day. He wanted to know more about the person who had become such an important part of his son’s life. And—though he couldn’t quite admit it yet—he wanted to know more about the woman who made his heart skip every time you smiled at him.

The day dragged on longer than usual, but Seungcheol finally made his way to the school, arriving as the final bell rang. He didn’t rush this time; he took his time, knowing he had a few extra minutes to spare. When he walked into the classroom, he found you packing up some of your things.

"Miss Y/N," he said, his voice a little softer than usual, "I wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve been doing for Seungwoo. He really enjoys his time here, and I can tell he’s learning so much from you."

You smiled up at him from the desk, your eyes warm and kind. "It’s my pleasure, Mr. Choi. Seungwoo is such a bright boy. I’m really lucky to have him in my class."

There was a quiet pause between you two, and you felt something shift in the air, a subtle, unspoken connection that had been growing stronger with each day. He had to take a deep breath before speaking again.

"I was wondering… if you might be free sometime? Maybe we could grab a coffee? Just… as a thank you. You know, for all the kindness you’ve shown Seungwoo and for making me feel so welcome."

The words hung in the air between you. For a brief moment, Seungcheol cursed himself for being so straightforward, so vulnerable. But when he looked at you, he saw your smile soften, your eyes lighting up in a way that made his heart race.

"I’d love that," you said, your voice gentle. "I’m usually free on weekends if that works for you."

A surge of relief washed over him. "That sounds perfect. I’ll let you know when."

You exchanged numbers with a small, tentative smile, both of you feeling the weight of what this moment might mean. Seungcheol could feel his pulse quicken at the thought of spending more time with you, outside the classroom. He had known for a while now that there was something special about you, something that made him feel alive in ways you hadn't expected.

When you left the school that afternoon, your heart was full in a way it hadn’t been in a long time. The thought of meeting him for coffee and talking about something other than Seungwoo and school made your chest tighten in excitement. You hadn’t allowed yourself to imagine this kind of connection in years, but now, with every smile from him, you felt yourself pulling closer.

As the days passed, you looked forward to your coffee date, knowing that this was just the beginning of something that felt as sweet and simple as the cookies you’d shared in that classroom, surrounded by pillows and laughter

The days that followed were filled with anticipation, and he found himself counting down the hours until Saturday. Though he had many things to do—business deals, phone calls, tasks at the office—nothing felt as important as the upcoming coffee date with you. The thought of seeing you outside of school, getting to know the person behind the kind, gentle teacher, made his heart flutter in ways he hadn’t felt in years.

Saturday finally arrived, and he made sure to arrive at the café a little early. The air was crisp, a hint of winter beginning to settle in. He stood outside, adjusting his jacket, checking his watch, running a hand through his hair. He tried hard to not look too eager, but the truth was, he had been looking forward to this moment all week.

When he saw you walking toward him, a soft smile on your face, his heart skipped a beat. You looked effortlessly beautiful, wearing a simple yet elegant dress paired with a cozy cardigan. The way you carried yourself, with grace and warmth, made you seem like you were in your element.

"Hi, Mr. Choi!" you greeted him, your voice light and friendly. "I hope I’m not late."

His nerves settled at the sound of your voice, and he couldn’t help but smile. "Not at all, Miss Y/N. I just got here a few minutes ago. I’m glad you could make it."

You walked into the café together, the scent of coffee and fresh pastries welcoming you inside. Seungcheol led you to a quiet corner, where the soft hum of conversation and the low music in the background made the space feel intimate and cozy. As he sat down, he couldn’t help but notice how at ease you seemed, how your presence brought an unexpected peace to your usually hectic world.

"I have to admit," he said, leaning back in his chair, "I wasn’t sure what to expect. I mean, we usually talk about Seungwoo, school, and all the little things in his life. But this—this feels different."

You smiled, your eyes sparkling with warmth. "I think it’s nice, don’t you? A change of pace. We get to talk about something other than lesson plans and school activities."

He chuckled, the sound deep and genuine. "Definitely. I’ve spent so much of my life focused on work and responsibilities, that I forget that there are moments like these that actually make life feel… complete. Like this. With you."

Your smile softened at your words, and you tucked a strand of hair behind you ear. "I understand what you mean. Teaching is a big part of my life, but there’s also more to it, more to me. Sometimes it’s nice to step away from the classroom and just be yourself for a moment."

Seungcheol nodded, his gaze lingering on you. He hadn’t realized until now just how much he longed for these quieter moments—the ones that weren’t filled with the buzz of the corporate world. He was used to being the one in charge, the one who always had to make decisions, led meetings, and set the pace. But with you, there was a kind of tranquility, a balance that he hadn’t known he needed.

As you talked, the conversation flowed easily. You shared stories about your childhoods, your favorite books, and even silly things like the kinds of music you liked. Your laughter was infectious, and he found himself opening up in a way he rarely did with anyone. There was a lightness to the way you spoke, a genuine interest in everything he had to say, and it made him feel like he was finally allowed to be more than just the CEO, more than just the father. For the first time in a long while, he felt… seen.

"I have to admit," you said, your smile turning playful, "I’ve always been curious about what it’s like to run a company. I mean, you’re so busy with meetings and traveling, right? How do you manage it all?"

Seungcheol leaned forward, intrigued by your question. "It’s not easy, but it’s all about balance. Finding time for the things that matter—work, yes, but also family. And now," he added, his eyes softening as they met yours, "I’m starting to think I need to make more time for things like this."

You blinked, your eyes wide as you took in his words. "Things like this?"

he hesitated for a moment before replying, his voice quieter now. "Things like… spending time with you. I know it’s unexpected, but I really enjoy these moments we’ve been sharing—getting to know you, and seeing the way you care for Seungwoo. It’s been… refreshing."

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words, and you looked down for a moment, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "I didn’t expect that," you said, a bit shyly. "But I’m glad you feel that way. I think there’s something special about the time we’ve spent together too. You and Seungwoo have a warmth to you that’s hard to ignore."

Seungcheol smiled at your response, feeling a sudden surge of hope in his chest. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment, he realized. There was something genuine here—something that he wanted to explore further.

The coffee date continued into the evening, the conversation never running dry. You talked about everything and nothing, the kind of easy companionship that made time seem to stand still. By the time you finished your drinks, you both knew one thing for certain: you wanted more of this.

As he stood up to leave, he took a step closer to you. "I’m really glad we did this," he said, his voice sincere. "And, um… if you’re free again sometime, maybe we could do it again?"

You smiled warmly, your eyes lighting up at his words. "I’d love that."

His heart raced at the thought, but there was a calmness to it now, a certainty. He had known, even before he asked, that this was just the beginning of something. The connection between you two was undeniable, and he was more than ready to explore it.

"How about next weekend?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Next weekend sounds perfect," you replied with a smile that made his chest swell with warmth.

As you walked out of the café together, side by side, he felt like something had shifted, not just in the world around him, but within himself. Maybe it was because of the way you made him feel—like he was more than just a CEO, more than just a father. Maybe it was the quiet moments, like the ones you shared over coffee, that made him realize how much you had been missing.

And as you parted ways that night, a promise unspoken hung in the air– that this was only the beginning.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form

honestly inspired by real life.. somehow, i'm just obsessed with one of the little one where i teach - he so adorable

@ credits┆big thanks to @tusswrites for beta & proof reading, one of my much needed grammar saviours ☆彡

❀ a/n┆ finally on vacations - happy holidays everyone

☘︎ taglist: @zozojella

‧₊ ᵎᵎ “CHERRY.zip"🍒 ⋅ ˚✮

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (09)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: stalking, creep behaviour, reader receives an inappropriate package, mentions of Richard Ramirez, mentions of a threesome.

a/n;; AND WE ARE BACK TO UPLOADING BABY!! Have an early Christmas Gift <33

Something feels… off – that was the best way you could put it. A few months have passed since you started your part-time job at the cafe, but you can’t help but shake off a sense of uneasiness. You couldn’t really put a finger on it, but it’s as though someone was watching you; maybe even following you.

You feel a pair of eyes wherever you go around campus, sometimes even up to the front door of your apartment’s main entrance. It can’t have been Seungcheol or either of the boys because while Mingyu and Vernon had done an absolute shit job at “keeping a close eye” on you; you knew they would never go to such lengths to cause you such discomfort.

“Nonnie?”

“‘Sup?”

You were both sitting in the cafeteria with Vernon halfway through his food while you were poking at the sad excuse of a meatloaf. “What would you do if you felt as though someone is following you everywhere?” Vernon’s ears perked at the implication that you may be dealing with a stalker, becoming alert as he gave you his attention. “Have you seen the guy?” he asked, growing worried when you shook your head.

“When did it start?”

You shift a little in your seat, “I don’t know… Maybe a few weeks after getting that job at the cafe?”

Vernon frowns. He knew you were pretty, hell, that was the reason why several boys from his major came up to him to try and get your number. He’d always reject, saying that he wasn’t comfortable giving out your number so easily; or that if they wanted your number, they should grow a pair of balls and ask you themselves. But, he’d never think that someone would go as far as stalking you.

“Have you told Seungcheol about this?”

“He… He’s still avoiding me…” you mutter sadly, “I mean, yeah, he does reply to my texts and he even gave me the study materials I needed for my exams; but… y’know, he’s still being avoidant…”

‘Damn… It’s been months and he’s still hung up on that wet dream.’

“But, he should at least know this is going on, right?”

You shake your head again. You recall the many times Seungcheol has gotten you out of trouble, or gotten himself into trouble for you while growing up. While he brushes it off as something he’d do for you in a heartbeat, you can’t help but feel as though you were burdening him. You remembered there was one time you had accidentally broken one of his mother’s China, you were maybe 10 years-old?

Your parents had gone on a short business trip to New York and thus, you stayed with the Chois. You had accidentally bumped into a chair and the plate fell out of your grasp. Seungcheol took the blame for you, telling his parents he wasn’t looking when he set the table. He had gotten an earful from his parents, telling him he should’ve been more careful because the broken shards could’ve hurt you.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Cheollie? I-It was my fault, why are you–”

“I know, pup. But, whatever trouble you might get in, I’ll always bail you out, yeah?”

“But–”

“No ‘buts’, pup. I’ll protect you no matter how big or small the mess is.”

“Look, ___, I don’t know what’s making you think you’re a liability,” Vernon pauses to take a sip of his orange juice, “Because based on my observation, Jesus, I sound like Wonwoo hyung now… But, based on my observation, he’s more than willing to do anything for you. Study materials, late night snacks, emergency pad runs – he never says no to you.”

When you suggest that he may be doing it because he feels a sense of responsibility towards you, that he’s spent a majority of his life looking out for you; thus he’s compelled to do so even when you’re an adult, Vernon dismisses it immediately. “Look, I’ve seen Seungcheol hyung with some of the girls he’s dated. Sure, he does the usual boyfriend duties but, I don’t think he’s ever been as doting on them as he is with you.”

You look back down at your uneaten cafeteria food, feeling your appetite leave the more you stare at it. “You aren’t a liability, ___. Cheol cares for you like you mean the world to him.” You sigh as you set the fork down, pushing the tray of food away from you. “Maybe I’ll tell him if things go too far… You know any good food spots that’s still affordable? The cafeteria food today is just… nasty… I don’t know how you managed to eat this?”

“Oh, you got the meatloaf surprise,” he answers and motions you to follow him, “I usually go for the chicken katsu or jjajangmyeon! Not the best, but they’re sure as hell better than the meatloaf.”

“Speaking from experience, I presume?”

“Girlie, I had the worst food poisoning in my entire life! Anyways, have you heard of this Open Mic the school’s planning to host?”

“This assignment requires you to work in pairs,” your professor announced, “And, I’ve done you all a favour by choosing your partners for you.”

The class groans, you included as you cross your fingers and beg the Academic Gods to give you a reliable partner. “I understand that you’d all don’t want to get paired with someone whose work ethic you aren’t familiar with, but believe me when I say that it wouldn’t kill you to work with others.”

You continue to chant your prayers quietly as she begins to read out the names. “Lee ___ and Lee Chan.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You’ve worked with Chan for a group project while you were both freshmen and you’ve mentally noted him as one of the more reliable classmates. Though, your course doesn’t require you to do much group projects so that freshmen project was the first and last time you’ve interacted with, until now that is. Chan gently knocks the empty desk space next to you to pull you out of your train of thought.

“___, right?” he asked, a big smile on his lips as he took a seat next to you, “We were in that one project two years ago, right?”

You let out a small laugh, “That’s me and yes, we were.”

“I’ve seen you around campus with Hansol and a few other seniors! You work at that cafe near campus too, right? How’s the job treating you?”

‘That’s… a lot of questions…’ you think to yourself. But, you politely answered his question anyway. You tell him how you never knew cafes put so much sugar in their drinks until you started working, leading you to order your drinks with less sugar. “The pastries are freshly baked, too! I don’t know where news or rumours of them being leftovers or stored overnight came from, but they aren’t.”

You notice how Chan leans in slightly, his eyes scanning your face.

“Y’know, you’re actually prettier up close.”

His statement… To say it weirded you out would be an understatement – you were creeped the fuck out. Could he be the guy that’s been giving you the heebie-jeebies as of late? You sure hope so, or maybe not. But, either way, you tried to brush off the anxiety that’s beginning to rise in your chest.

“T-Thanks…?”

Chan opens up his laptop, tapping on a few keys on the keyboard and moments later, you receive a small text from the chatroom of the platform your school uses. “I sent you a link to a Google Doc! We could just write out our parts and brainstorm how we can link them together once we’re done!”

You nod your head, clicking into the link.

“Do you live nearby, ___?”

“Mmm… No, I actually commute to school. Occasionally, Vernon would pick me up from Sujeong Central since it’s a five minute walk from my apartment.”

It takes you a moment to realise you’ve just exposed your residential address. When Chan asks if it’d be okay to go back to your place to discuss the assignment, you reject immediately. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude or harsh,” you explained, “I’m just uncomfortable with having people I’m not familiar or close with over at my house.”

The boy nods in understanding, muttering a small apology before turning his attention to the professor as she explains the assignment.

Mingyu and Wonwoo leaned against the former’s black 2022 Genesis G90. You were working your night shift and the group, excluding Seungcheol, have taken it amongst themselves to be your personal bodyguards. They’d drive you home if you’d work the night shift, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe and not having anyone trailing you.

“Any luck in finding out who this creep could be?” Mingyu asks, looking into the windows of the cafe and returns the small wave you gave him.

“So far, zero,” the older replies, “Whoever this creep is, they’re good at covering their tracks or not being caught.”

“Do you think they’re from our university?”

“Given the location of this cafe, I’d say yes. But, we also have to factor in the dodginess of her residential area.”

“Do you think we’d catch this guy? I honestly hate seeing ___ getting so worked up over this…”

“We just need more time.”

Lost in their conversation, the two men failed to notice you picking up a box on one of the cafe tables. There was a printed paper stuck on it, stating that it was a little gift addressed to you. You thought it was cute, a customer having a crush on their barista like in the movies or books you’ve read. But, when you opened it – it was far from a romantic gesture. Mingyu noticed you frozen in place, a look of fear on your face as you stared into the box in your hand.

Nudging Wonwoo, they entered the cafe and approached you to ask what was wrong. When the older male peeks into the box, he immediately grabs it to set it aside. “Do you remember who sat here?” he asks.

You shook your head. It had been a busy day and with the amount of customers coming in and out, the crowd just blended in together; and why would you remember the face of a random stranger?

Mingyu continues to comfort you as the older begin to examine the contents of the box – several pictures of you around campus and in the cafe were printed out, alongside a pair of… men’s underwear. ‘With men like these existing, it’s no wonder why women choose bears,’ he thinks to himself, remembering the hot internet debate a few months prior.

“Do you still want to go home?” he asks as closes the box, “I’ll hold onto these until we catch the bastard.”

When you shake your head, they suggest you stay over at their place for the time being. “Are you sure? I mean, that’s nice of you both to offer me that, but I don’t want to –”

“Mingyu hasn’t been bringing girls in since hell week of his semester started,” Wonwoo adds, allowing you to resume your closing shift, “He’s cleared up his schedule too, so you’re safe from hearing two or more models having sex.”

“And, what about you?” you questioned, “I remember Cheollie mentioning you both had a threesome before.”

The man only shrugs, “Only if I feel like it. I’m either studying, gaming or streaming the majority of the time.”

“Well… If it’s safer, then I suppose I’ll take you both up on that offer. But, I don’t have any spare clothes… Should I head back home to get them?”

Mingyu mentions some of the models he slept with left their undergarments and several clothes behind. “Some of them could be your size, plus you can keep them too!”

“Wouldn’t they want them back?”

“Nah, a lot of it has been sitting in my closet for years now.”

“And, they’re loaded – they could just buy another one.”

Given how many girls Mingyu would have over, it’s no surprise that their apartments would have feminine hygiene products. But, it does surprise you to see how expensive the products were. “Oh, a majority of the models I know and fool around with only use luxury or high class brands.”

“And you bought it just for them?”

“Believe me, ___,” Wonwoo hands you a cup of tea, “If Mingyu isn’t shoving his dick into every female model he finds attractive, he’d be a good boyfriend.”

They lead you into a spare room, letting you get comfortable before they start going over the details of the creep that’s been giving you trouble. “My bet is on that Lee Chan you’re partnered with,” Mingyu says as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, Wonwoo asking him why as he takes a seat on the empty gaming chair at the desk.

“I mean, if you think about it, he said you were much prettier up close; which is already creepy in and of itself. Plus, he asked if you lived nearby and if he could go back to your place to work on the assignment!”

“On one hand, that’s a fair point; but maybe the kid is just a loser in a cute boy’s body that doesn’t know how to talk to girls, too. He probably lacks some kind of social cues.”

“Are you defending a creep’s actions now, Woo?”

“Jesus, Mingyu, I’m only giving the kid the benefit of the doubt.”

When you tell them that it’s unlikely Chan is your stalker, Wonwoo is quick to end that train of thought. “___, I’m only giving Chan the benefit of the doubt. But, that doesn’t mean he’s off the hook just yet, considering the things he’s said to you.”

“But, he looks like a sweet guy!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Just because he looks like a sweet guy, doesn’t mean he’s actually a sweet guy.”

“Yeah, like that Night Stalker dude from L.A.,” Mingyu chimes in, “Think his name was Richard Ra… Ramuda? Ramida?”

“Richard Ramirez.”

“Yeah, him! Sure, he’s got some looks, but dude’s a literal murderer! Hell, I can’t believe people would want to bang him!”

“I mean… I would fuck ghostface if given the chance…” you mutter under your breath, getting a judgemental look from the model. Thankfully, Wonwoo justified your statement. “I’m with her on that ghostface statement. It’s a niche market or target audience, it has its appeal.”

“You’re both freaks, but at least that’s a fictional character. Moving on from both of your masked people's kinks, ___, I think it’s best you let Seungcheol know about this.”

You insisted on not telling Seungcheol, continuing with the whole not wanting to be a liability defence and that you were a big girl now; you can handle yourself just fine! No matter how hard the two men tried to persuade you, you wouldn’t budge. For a brief moment, Mingyu could’ve sworn he saw Seungcheol inside you because he too shared the same stubbornness. Realising they can’t get you to change your mind, the men gave up and bid you goodnight.

“You can stay here for as long as you’d like!” the model tells you, “Maybe, even forever!”

Wonwoo scoffs, “As if Seungcheol would let her.”

gamerwoo: hey hyung cheol: sup gamerwoo: ___ would kill me if she found out i told you this gamerwoo: but just a heads up gamerwoo: she’s got a stalker gamerwoo: will let you know when you need to step in

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @minhui896

[yuuuuuuslazy]

「Bad Luck」

Inspired by "Yellowstone", the scene where Beth smashed the store.

Mafia!Cheol x wife!reader ft. Secretary Shua

Warnings : mentions of insecurity, blood and violence, punching (?), explicit language, very fluffy at the end, wonwoo and hao has wives, pet names

Genre : fluff

Everything below is pure fiction made for entertainment purposes. Do not copy any of the actions below.

"If my husband came in here, he'd kill somebody"

You hopped out of the car after saying goodbye and thanks to one of cheol's men. He'd taken his day off just to drop you off at the street where all the designer stores are. With no special day yet your husband insisted that you should go shopping while he dealt with meetings. Your husband? Mafia boss of the underground world. They're all wary of him while he fears none except you - his precious wife. The way he'd get on his knees to apologise so quickly if he were to be the reason you're upset.

You grabbed yourself a latte while looking for a store to walk into. Deciding to look for a necklace you slipped into the store with a pretty lilac stone on display. Immediately you realise the gaze of the shopkeeper on you, eyeing you up and down. After looking around and having enough of her glares, you approached her to ask for the necklace you saw by the window.

"I've seen enough of your type of people. You can't afford this unless you sell a kidney why don't you get your ass over the store down the street where poor people are supposed to be?"

Before you could respond, " You stole something didn't you, I'd like to check your bag missy." spat the shopkeeper.

"Get a warrant"

"I don't need one. Lock the doors and call the cops" she ordered the guy standing by the door.

Infront of her face you threw your bag on the counter while fishing out your phone to call Joshua.

"(Y/n)? Something wrong?" He questioned immediately since you rarely call him

"I need help. A store by main street with police cars outside. You'll see it." You can already hear the sound of key hitting against each other in the background before he spoke again.

"Why did you call me? Why didn't you call cheol?"

"If my husband came in here, he'd kill somebody" you answered.

You eyed the shopkeeper's name tag that said "Veronica". Ooh it's the one that's gotten a few complaints about being rude to customers. When the cops arrived so did Joshua. Upon seeing him the cops....squirmed away back in their car...?

"Sorry Mr.Hong we're closing now as we are having some issues with this...thief here. She probably shoved it in her bra or pants. I'll have the cops search her right away if you must shop today!"

"No need." said Joshua as he gave her a side eye.

Upon seeing Joshua's attitude, the air got awkward and scary at the same time whilst you could only hide behind him hoping he would just slap her and take you home. You'd deal with her after asking cheol to buy the store or something...maybe get someone to run her car over. Does she even have a car?

The bell hung above the door gave out a soft ring, signalling that someone had just entered. Before you could register who in the hell enters a store with police cars parked outside and before Veronica could tell the person that they're closed, a baseball bat flew straight into her face so quickly it cracked one of her teeth! You quickly turned fearing the worst for Veronica. The police cars are long gone now replaced with a black Roll's Royce and...your husband who's walking through the entrance. Oh no. Rip Veronica.

You hear cheol ask Joshua to go back and finish off his work before he goes home. Joshua approaches him and hands him a recording pen before nodding and leaving in his BMW.

So.... everything was recorded...of course Joshua told him...now Veronica's fucked...like fucked.

"Mr.Choi-!" Slap. Ooh her mouth started bleeding. If she knows about your husband...and your husband's secretary how come they don't know you? Wierd. Everyone in dirty work or involved in underground stuff knew who you were.

"Mr.Choi? What's wrong you're our most precious custo-"

"You messed with the wrong girl, Veronica."

"This girl? She's a thief!! She tried to steal our jewels and stones!!" She quickly answered while holding her cheek. Slapped yet so respectful because she knew what would happen if she weren't. "Here it comes" you thought to yourself.

"This girl you claim to be a "thief" is my wife."

You've never seen colour drain from a person face this quickly as she realised she messed up big time. Accusing the wife of the man who makes even the police run away? It's better if she just shut up and get lost but cheol would never let that slide. As he went towards the door to lock it, Veronica dropped to her knees to apologise saying things along the lines of "spare me", "I have children to feed" and "I can't die". Seungcheol picked up the baseball bat that was forgotten on the ground since earlier while telling her that she should have been polite to just show you the necklace instead of judging just because you didn't dress up. Following the end of his sentence he hits the nearest piece of glass with the bat, resulting in a loud shattering noise and silence so thick it could be cut with a knife after the shards have settled.

"Cheol that's enough let's go-" you tried to grab him but he took your hand in his to kiss your knuckles instead.

"Oh babygirl we have all night. The sun is setting, why don't you try on the jewelry you came here to look for. Let me guess, that big one by the window? I'll fetch it for you." He pecks you and grabbed a high stool for you to sit on. Seungcheol puts on the necklace with big lilac diamond around your neck and steps away to admire you.

"Love, how about this one?" He said as he smashed yet another glass covered shelve. For the next ten minutes, he chose some nice rings and necklaces for you to put on and "take home" as well as stepping on the gems that weren't polished or looked ugly. You protested, insisting on going home many times but he would silence you with a kiss on the lips. Everything unfolded infront of Veronica as she could only stare in horror. When he reached the last piece of intact glass in the store, Seungcheol pointed the bat against it as he turned to her to speak.

"You bring your sorry ass on your knees before my wife and apologize for judging her for how she dressed, and for treating a fellow customer rudely."

Losing her cocky exterior, she crawled towards you on her knees to apologise word for word while asking you to ask Seungcheol so he would spare their last piece of unshattered glass as well as the accessories inside.

"Much better. Here love, have a bag." He handed you a medium sized box and a bag to store all the things he'd put on your lap or around your neck and fingers before turning to Veronica again.

"You're lucky my wife was here or you'd be painting those pretty tiles with red right now. Regardless you'll be losing your job and your boss will be losing this shop lot. Enlighten me, what will you tell your boss?"

"A runaway criminal came in and attempted to steal....Mr.Choi had driven him away...so I gave his wife our jewels." She managed to stutter out while still trembling.

"Good." he said. He walked towards you to help you off the high stool and into his Roll's Royce. You tried to look back, catching Veronica phoning her boss and telling him exactly what she said she would. Wow. It's honestly the first time seeing your husband in action. You'd heard from the fellow wives of your husband's peers, namely Wonwoo and Minghao's wives that he can be impulsive but it's the first time you've ever been on the scene of his anger. Well the ladies were serious when they said he's the scariest.

You set the box of jewellery next to your feet while turning to look at your husband. His scary facade was over, now smiling about the scene he caused back there and happy that he brought you justice.

"Someone is happy~" you cooed. "Are you proud of me sweetheart?" He asked while he stopped at a red light.

"Shua told you didn't he..." You questioned, admiring the way he drives the car with only one hand, the other on your lap.

"Of course he did, you were in danger. You accused that I would kill someone but cmon baby I'm not that bad...I fight but nothing illegal! Ever!!" He said while pouting. Nobody dares to challenge him. His company and family controls 70% of the economy and his underground dealings that involve weapons and solutions used to make medicine that are somehow legal every time it is checked bring In lots too. You somehow managed to marry this guy and not find out about his whole identity until you were so inlove you're ready to be the evil man's wife that fights with him to death in those movies.

You once questioned him, and he allowed you to go through this stuff. He sells the solutions and medicine at a cheaper price in big batches to hospitals and labs because the government is using it for money but he actually wants to help, that's why the government is always looking for something to get him in trouble but they end up shining the lights on their own dirty work. You can't help but want to give yourself a pat on the back everytime you see or hear of his deeds that aren't posted all over the media. He knew you liked cats, so adopted two for you and donated a few millions to cat shelters overseas. You loved this man. Even when he gets sick and almost puked on the ground you'd still love him.

The ride back home was comfortable with soft tunes playing in the background. He'd take peeks at you and you'll both giggle. Three years into your marriage, the love never faded. Most say that marriage is the grave for love yet everyday spent with Seungcheol felt... genuine and happy. You help him by diving Joshua's workload, mostly organising stuff about his company or his personal schedules. Before starting work you'd make him a lunchbox, write a cute note on it and pack it up. Afternoons were spent with your cats by your side or playing with each other as you typed away on your computer. At night, he'd come home around 8. He never postpones coming home because of work. Usually it's traffic or he got something on the way back for him to be late as he likes to say that the important stuff should be finished at the office, the rest can be put off until tomorrow and he will leave at 7:30 sharp to go home and see his beautiful wife.

He usually comes home to a purring engine on the cabinet of the mansion's door and another furball on the floor with the smell of dinner going into his nose. He always greets you with a kiss or hug when he comes home. During dinner, he either pouts and complains about work or shares the interesting things that happen today. Does he let you do the dishes on your own? Hell no. He can and he will help you no matter what. If you scrub the plates, he will rinse and try them ; if he mops the floor then you clean the counter tops and dinner table. That's just how fantastic of a husband he is. The man that people fear most will wear a pink apron with cats on it and mop the floor even if you asked him to rest.

His car gently rolls into the porch of your marble white mansion. You both enter the door and your cats immediately run to greet you. He once said that the cats lift his mood, but you do wonders on him. You tossed the food into the steamer and quickly joined him in the bathtub. You like to take baths together by cleaning each other. You wash his back while he washes and dries your hair for you. You always feed the cats first before taking a bath together. Although it is mostly relaxing and warm to bathe with your husband, yet things can get freaky when he's moody or horny. You once fucked so hard the both of you collapsed and fell asleep until the next day waking up to very grumpy cats as they didn't have their dinner. Oops. Today was one of those relaxing warm bath days.

After you both finished dinner, you cuddled on the couch with dimly lit warm lights around the huge living room equipped with floor-to-celling glass windows facing the sea for a spectacular view. Your cats, hanging by the cat tree sharpening their claws and running around playing. You enjoyed "us" time the most. Before bed, after dinner or when you wake up in the morning. He holds you close against his bare chest as he has a habit of walking around the house shirtless almost all the time. You set your head on his muscular chest and he buries his head in the crook of your neck your your hair. Then, you talk about random things or just simply enjoy the embrace of each other.

You've thought about having kids but...your cats and your husband are enough now. You want to have peace and quiet, not quite ready to give up what you have right now. Seungcheol is totally fine with it as he says that it's your choice. He's happy as long as you're with him.

Seungcheol is the type of man to choose you before his baby because "we can always try again for another baby, but I can never find another you. I don't want a family or anything if you're not my wife♡"

Suddenly he spoke up. "Love?"

"Yeah?" You answered with eyes closed and your hand reaching down to pat your cat who has decided to loaf Infront of the couch.

"Would you rather choose a hero or a villain?" He asked. You scooted up a bit to look at him, acting like you're actually thinking when you already know the answer.

"The villain." You stated

"Why?"

"Because the hero would give me up to save the world, but the villain would give up the world to save me." You answered knowing that the world sees him as a bad guy who pursues violence and force to get his way as well as trades stuff behind doors to earn money.

Your hands intertwined, wedding rings on both of your fingers gently hitting against each other as he kissed you ; soft giggles and meows filled the room when you chat into the night.

"Sweetheart, i'd burn the world to ashes if it meant that there will always be a you and me."

A/N : hope you enjoyed and thanks for all the likes and reblogs on my previous story "Christmas, Airports and Coffee". I appreciate every single one of them. Feel free to request for cheol if anyone is interested~ (only cheol because I've tried writing for other members and discovered I could only come up with ridiculous ideas for my bias while the others sounded so dry and uninteresting I just deleted everything. Like seriously.)

<3

[soonyoungs]

[12:29 am] - cheol

“slow down,” he’s practically begging you “please, sl-slow down or i’m going to bust” his head is thrown back against the headboard. with newfound determination you manage to grind yourself down harder on his hips, pushing him deeper inside. “babe,” he tries warning in a stern voice “i’m serious”. 

a small sigh leaves your lips as you pout, lifting the shirt that is covering where the two of you are connected. bringing your hips to a deep, slow grind you whine. “but baby,” you lull your head to the side, your eyes glazed over in a pleasure filled haze “your cock feels so good”. your head rolls back as you close your eyes and speed up your pace again, while reaching down passed your tummy to give your clit the attention it needed. you let out a loud, straggled groan at the added stimulation. small huffs of seungcheol’s name and strings of cursing fly from your mouth. seungcheol is in awe watching you; he’s never seen you this desperate for pleasure before and he’s becoming addicted to it.

seungcheol is quick to action when you pick up the pace, tightening his grip on your thighs, sticky from the mess you’re making on his lap. as his grip tightens seungcheol forces you to stop all your movements. just when you’re about to protest he braces his feet to the mattress and brings your hips up, lifting you from him, then drops you down as he thrusts up into you, fucking you from below. 

a loud moan leaves your chest as you throw your head back, holding on to his arms, leaving marks as you steady yourself. “‘m gonna cum soon,” seungcheol warns as he sits up straighter and tangles a hand in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your neck. he leans forward enough to leave wet kisses on your pulse points as he drills into you.  

seungcheol is breathing against your neck when you feel yourself begin to let go, “cumming, seungcheol” you pant as he begins to fuck you harder. you’re so desperate for release you can hear his movements within you as much as you feel them, which turns you on even more. before you know it you’re reciting “i’m cumming” as if it were a mantra as you squeeze around seungcheol. you’re gripping his head to steady yourself, actively pushing him deeper into your neck.

“fuck,” seungcheol grunts as your high washes over you and you tighten around his cock. he’s leaving soothing kisses on your neck as your grip on him loosens. seungcheol manages to bring his forehead to yours leaving open mouthed kisses on your lips while you continue to moan out his name. your hips are still grinding down on his lap as you ride out your high and hope that seungcheol is close to his. “almost there baby,” he whispers against your lips “so good for me, angel. just like that, keep moving just like that, you feel so fucking good.” a few more rolls of your hips and mentions of how good he feels and how big he is and he’s a goner. seungcheol’s hips falter as his pace becomes uneven and he’s digging his fingers into your hips to keep you steady. he’s thrown his head back against the headboard again as he cums inside of you, filling you to the brim.

you sit on his lap and wiggle your hips as he comes down, teasing him slightly, only stopping when he says your name in a soft warning. “fine,” you pout “you’re so mean to me… never let me have any fun.” you pretend to be mad, crossing your arms over your chest, huffing it out, jutting your chin and turning your head away from him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

seungcheol sighs, dragging his hand over his face before rubbing his temples to calm himself down before questioning you, “then what was all of this?”

[pochaccoups]

things you do that make svt bust quick (nsfw)

seungcheol —; tell him how good he’s doing

he’s a leo male… please stroke his ego.

tell him how you love his cock, how big he is, how it hits so deep inside you. tell him “right there,” and “keep going,” and to do it “just like that.”

stroke his possessive side too. tell him no one else can fuck you like he can, no one else can stretch you out so good, no one else can make you cum like he does. tell him that your pussy is made for him only.

be loud for him. god, he loves hearing you moan. say his name, beg for more, sob, whimper, gasp for him. don’t be shy about it. it’ll only be a matter of time before you butter him up enough to make him cum.

jeonghan —; beg

everyone knows yoon jeonghan likes having people at his mercy. he gets a little unhinged when he has power over someone—so imagine what he gets like when you’re writhing on his cock, gasping his name so sweetly, your eyes glimmering with tears as he fucks you hard.

“what is it, pretty?” he asks, and like the devil he is, he slows the movement of hips, pulling out of you until his tip barely kisses your also weeping hole. it’s torture for him too, to leave the hot, tight haven that is your cunt, but to him it’s worthwhile.

“wanna cum, hannie,” you whimper.

“hm… i don’t know if i should let you yet,” he says, dipping back inside just an inch. years of him being yours means you don’t miss the tiny strain in his voice that betrays his perfectly collected demeanour.

“please, hannie, please, please, please, let me cum. i’ve been so good,” you sob, squeezing your thighs where they rest on his hips.

you watch as a switch flips in his eyes within a millisecond. a grin lights up his face and he shudders, and he’s sliding back inside you, fucking in and out of you harder and faster than before. safe to say it doesn’t take long for either of you to cum after that.

joshua —; make eye contact

his pretty doe eyes make staring into them your favourite thing in the world, and if you asked him his favourite pastime, he’d tell you that it was gazing into your irises.

it’s also his biggest weakness. from the way you’ve got your mouth wrapped around his dick, throat gagging even though you’re only halfway down it, joshua feels his sanity slipping away. his fingers curl into the bedsheets below as he watches you work him, revels in the warmth of your tongue sliding up and down his shaft.

when your eyes flick up to meet his he doesn’t stand a chance. not with how glimmering they are, brimming softly with tears, yet swimming with adoration. with worship.

heat washes over his whole body, he’s gasping, and the salty warmth of his release pools on your tongue.

jun —; put his fingers in your mouth

when junhui gets inside you he has a one-track mind. he becomes rapt with pleasure, drunk from the warm squeeze of your pussy around him, focused on nothing but the sensation of you, the sight of you under him, the sound of you in his ears.

the effect you have on him is dangerous, because you’re equally obsessed with him as he is with you, and you’re not afraid to show him.

and you love his hands, he knows you do—knows how you love his slender fingers and their soft touches all over you, inside you. your brain is cloudy, fogged by lust when you take him by his wrist and bring his fingers to your mouth. your eyes sparkle as your lips wrap around his index finger, your soft tongue swirling around it.

jun’s mouth parts with awe, his eyes growing round. a second later, he stills inside you with a gasp of your name, like he’s praying to you, all the while you’re sucking on his finger like a devil.

hoshi —; scratch him

he’s a little bit of a freak, and a masochist too.

when he’s got you folded in half, hitting all the right spots inside you, you cling to him in every way you can—fingers grabbing at his biceps, his shoulders. one particular stroke of his hips has you squealing.

your nails sink into his skin, crying out his name as you rake them down the toned planes of his back. the second you do, soonyoung is grunting, hips stilling, cock twitching as a sticky warmth suddenly floods your cervix.

the worst part about it is how he always has the stupidest, most shit-eating smug grin on his face when he examines your damage in the bathroom after, and you know that if he could, he would post the selfies he takes in the mirror all over instagram. what’s even worse though? seeing your marks makes him hard again.

wonwoo —; cry

you’re such a sensitive little thing and wonwoo adores you. one orgasm on his fingers and you’re already overstimulated—“but baby, i haven’t even put my cock in you yet,” he’ll coo.

like it’s your fault you have a boyfriend with skilled fingers and a skilled tongue and who knows you inside and out like the back of his hand, who knows where to touch you and how hard and what pace makes you writhe the most.

by the time he does get inside you, you’re gasping and whining and clawing at him, tears springing to your eyes because he’s so big and so deep, but the stretch is so addictive that it’s dizzying. his voice is low and husky as he mutters to you a mixture of teases and praise, calls you his pretty girl and then laughs at sensitive you are, pretends he’s not on the verge of coming from the sound of your choked gasps.

your belly starts to pulse with that familiar heat and by then you’re keening for him, whimpering a mixture of his name and endless pleas as it starts to become too much. your sobs go straight to his cock, and it’s only a matter of time before he reaches his climax, and his gasps of pleasure harmonise with your own cries.

woozi —; pull his hair

he’s been growing his hair out. after all your begging, he finally listened. in a way, though, it’s backfired a little on you, because the longer it gets the more insane you become. and the thing is you never expected him to let it get to his shoulders—and still he doesn’t plan on cutting it. well, good. you would kill him if he did.

when his face is between your legs you’re nothing short of a feral animal—your hips bucking wild against his mouth, your legs trembling on his shoulders, your fingers, of course, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. he makes you whine when he pulls away from your needy, sticky cunt to tsk at you, tells you to cut it out and keep your hands to yourself. (it’s because he’s about to cream his pants).

when he bends you in half beneath him, ruts into you hard and fast and relentless, you need leverage. your hands land on the back of his neck, fingertips grazing at his roots, then one slam of his hips into yours has his cock bumping against the most sensitive spot inside you and your grasping at his hair and crying his name so desperately. no longer can he hold back, strained groans slipping past his lips as he lets go inside you.

dokyeom —; hold his hand

a sentimental sweetheart, seokmin is an utter romantic who thinks that being inside of you, whether in your mouth or your pussy, is intimacy in its purest form. now imagine showing him just how much more intimate things can get.

he’s losing his mind at the feeling of your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, the way you swallow his length down making him see stars. he can’t bare to look at you—he needs to focus on taking deep breaths so that he doesn’t cum straight down your throat. then he feels you grabbing at one of his hands, lacing your fingers together, and no amount of deep breathing can stop him from releasing.

and when he fucks you it’s no different—it’s him in near tears, whimpering your name between incoherent words over and over, and as soon as you take his hand in yours and your fingers wrap around his, there’s nothing else he can do but succumb to his own pleasure.

mingyu —; take control

he’s big and strong; strong enough to put you into whatever position he wants, to make you cum at his command, to do just as he pleases with you.

but that’s exactly why he likes it when you slap him around a little.

you can’t exactly bend him into doggy or use your weight to keep him pinned to the mattress, but you can sit yourself pretty on his cock and ride him teasingly slow. you can tell him he’s not allowed to touch you or you’ll stop moving. you can tell him to kiss you, to go slower, to go harder.

you can sit up and put a hand around his throat, still your hips, and tell him he can fuck you himself if he wants to cum. and he’ll do just that—and as soon as you utter the words, he’s gone, whining out curses as he fills you up in white, warm spurts.

minghao —; whisper in his ear

minghao often tells you how he adores your voice. when you talk to him he’s entranced, and he’s always been more of a listener than a talker, and it’s perfect because you always have so much to say, and minghao will listen to every last word of yours.

your voice—minghao’s kryptonite, his achilles’ heel, his undoing and, oh, the way you moan for him when he’s got you on his cock is enough to make his heart stop beating. the perverted part of him wishes he could record you, hide the file away on his phone and listen to you when he’s overseas and he can’t call you. maybe he’ll ask you about that, if he can find the courage.

the final blow is when you’re getting close. you lean in, right next to his ear, so close that your breath sends shivers along his skin. “please, hao, i’m so close,” you whisper, yet you still sound so desperate and depraved. “you are too, right? cum for me, please. i’ll cum for you too.”

so he does just that—minghao gives in and lets his orgasm wash over him, fingertips drawing circles on your clit until mere moments later he hears the sound of your own cresting pleasure and he feels himself getting hard again.

seungkwan —; wrap your legs around him

it’s a fact that seungkwan loves to be close to you. if he could, he would crawl inside of your skin and live in your heart. but since he can’t, constant physical touch is the next best thing.

he likes to think he has relatively good self-control…most of the time. like when he’s buried to the hilt inside you, he’s incredible at keeping in rhythm, fucking into you at the most perfect pace for both you and him, hitting the spot that makes your back arch off the bed.

somehow he never sees it coming—when your arms are snaked around his neck and you’re holding onto him for dear life as he takes you to heaven, and your legs wrap around his waist so that you can pull him in impossibly deep. then you bring his face to yours, and you have the most irresistible little pout on your face when you make your request. “cum inside me, seungkwannie?”

and it’s not like he has much choice with the way you’ve trapped him inside of you, but that’s the very reason why the next second he’s pumping you full, because when it’s you, how is he supposed to have any self-control?

vernon —; touch yourself

it’s not like vernon can last long in general. he thinks you’re the hottest thing alive and he’s so enamoured with you that it’s too much for him sometimes, but you best believe he’ll put his all into holding out just for you.

there are times, however, where he’s just a man. and what’s a man to do when he has a goddess riding his dick? when your tits look so pretty, bouncing in his face, when you have that fucked out look in your eyes, when you feel like heaven and hell all at once?

and what the fuck is a man to do when your hand drifts down between your legs, to your aching clit, and your fingers start to rub it in circles, or when your other hand grasps one of your tits and tugs at one of your own nipples? and your sweet pussy clenches around him so tight when you do, clamps down on him in an hot, wet embrace, so what else can he do but cum?

dino —; say ‘i love you’

another sweet, sentimental boy. lee chan is head over heels for you, enamoured, obsessed, smitten, infatuated with you… the list of things he is around you is endless.

it shows in the way he fucks you—always takes his time with you, never rushes taking you apart. every touch of his is intentional, meant to set you both ablaze. when he eats you out to prep you for his cock, he has to try not to cum in his pants from how pretty you are.

where he really doesn’t stand a chance however is when he’s bottomed out inside you, as close as he can possibly be with you—so close you’re practically one. the sweetest sounds fall from your lips, spurring on his expert thrusts.

his forehead is plastered to yours, the pair of you revelling in one another’s sweat and gasps for air. “i love you,” you confess gently, and chan falls over the edge of pleasure not a moment later.

[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."

[woozivrse]

“cheol?” you huffed, amused and smiling down at your fiancé. “what’re you doing babe?”

he’d been doing this every single night since he proposed to you without fail. right before you two went to bed during your nightly cuddles. he’d lay on top of you— making sure his weight wasn't fully on you— and start pecking you with kisses everywhere he could reach.

well, not everywhere. he placed his kisses in the same places every night, and you couldn't figure out the pattern at all.

“kissing you,” he answered. “was it not obvious enough?”

you laughed, rubbing one hand up and down his back. “okay, let me rephrase. why are you kissing me in such random spots?”

“your moles,” he placed another kiss, right on the small mole on your collarbone. “if i kiss them enough they’ll appear in our next life, and i'll be able to find you again,” –he kissed the one under your lips, right in the middle of your chin– “and again.”

you scrunch your nose up, smiling at how absolutely cheesy your fiancé was being. you hadn't even realized he was kissing your moles, and usually you had an unconscious feel of where every single one you knew of was. you giggled ruffling up his hair with both hands and kissing his forehead. “well then, i'll just have to start doing the same to you once you're done.”

[emocheol]

seventeen when you call them by their name

instead of a pet name

a/n: i forgot how long writing 13 different scenarios takes T-T

seungcheol

after a long day of practice cheol entered your shared apartment late at night.

even though he was trying to be quiet you still heard the click of the front door and his fumbling around in the entryway. so you decided to get up and greet him.

“seungcheol?” you asked sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you walked out of your bedroom.

he was so taken aback by his name that he didn't even reply for a good 30 seconds.

“i'm sorry for being home late,” he frowned, “don't be mad.” he whined softly, thinking you were upset with him. why else would you use his full name?

you looked at him quizzically and slotted yourself in his arms, he seemed to relax significantly at your touch.

“i'm not mad, what makes you think that?” you questioned, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“you called me seungcheol,” he pouted, “what happened to baby?” his pout intensified, his lip jutting out further.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, “i’m sorry, baby,” you teased, emphasizing the pet name, “i didn't know you liked it that much,” you cooed, putting your hands on his cheeks and smushing his face.

“don't tease me,” he grumbled, pretending to be upset, which just elicited another laugh from your end.

“fine, fine,” you said with your hands raised, mocking a surrender, “let's go to bed, baby, you've had a long day,” you suggested, pecking his lips and taking his hand to lead him to the bedroom.

jeonghan

you had been basking in jeonghan's company all day. it was a rare off-day for the idol and you spent every second possible with your boyfriend.

you were currently in one of your lulls of conversation, just sitting in comfortable silence on two different ends the couch while you both scrolled on your phones.

you saw a funny video while scrolling and knew your boyfriend would love it so you looked over at him and called his name.

“hey, jeonghan? look at this video,” you giggled, holding your phone screen in his direction.

but your boyfriend didn't pay you any mind. thinking he didn't hear you, you called for him a little louder.

“jeonghan? hello?” you scooted closer to him on the couch when you went unanswered again.

you poked his cheek and turned his head to make him look at you when he still didn’t answer.

“hello?” you questioned, noticing his nonchalant expression.

“oh? were you talking to me?”he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“yes? i said your name twice!” you whined, knowing he heard you but he was clearly ignoring you.

“no, you said ‘jeonghan,’” he said, making air quotes with his fingers, "and that's not my name," he pouted finally, showing a side of him that you didn't often see.

you realized what he was talking about and tried to hide a grin at his demeanor, “aww, i'm sorry, let me try again,” you cooed, going back to your previous side of the couch to reset.

“hannie... my angel, my sweetheart, my precious?” you tried, “come look at this video,” you laughed, his attention already on you as you listed your names for him.

“of course, my love,” he smiled, getting up from his spot and cuddling up to your side, “look at how easy that was,” he whispered, plucking your phone from your hands and watching the video that you had pulled up.

he pulled you into his arms and nuzzled his cheek against your head, scrolling and looking at more videos with you. “you're crazy,” you said with a laugh, pressing a kiss against his cheek, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

joshua

“joshua?” you called out from the kitchen while you were making dinner. he had been playing video games in the living room ever since his practice was over.

hearing his full name from you made his ears perk up and he quickly shut off his game, rushing to the kitchen.

“love?” he asked softly, putting his hand on your shoulder, already thinking he had upset you he didn't want to anger you further. “is everything okay?” he asked tentatively, testing the waters.

“huh? yeah, joshua, everything's fine can you just-”you said as you stirred the pot on the stove, not looking up at him while you were focused on perfecting the food.

but, when he heard his full name again and the classic 'everything's fine' line he quickly jumped to conclusions and deduced that everything was not fine.

he cut you off before you could finish talking and immediately went into apologizing.

“i’m sorry, love, i don't know what i did to make you upset but i'll fix it, okay?” he said with a weary smile, still with his hand on your shoulder, “was i on the game for too long? did you want me to help you cook? was i too loud?” he rambled, facepalming as he thought he had messed something up and made you mad.

as he rambled you slowly started to look over at him, his words confusing you to no end.

“why would i be upset?” you asked, looking at him as if he was crazy, which he was.

“what?” he questioned back, “you called me joshua and you haven't looked at me and you said everything was ‘fine’, that's like textbook upset partner.” he said, as if it was totally obvious.

you blinked at him a few times before you burst out laughing, “god, babe, you're hilarious!” you exclaimed, slapping his shoulder as you laughed. now it was joshua's turn to be confused since he was positive that you were upset.

“you’re not upset?” he questioned, you shook your head as your answer while you were still doubled over laughing, “why did you call me over then?” he asked.

you pointed to the glass jar on the counter next to you after you had composed yourself, “i was going to ask you to open that jar, dummy,” you teased.

joshua blew out a breath and quickly opened the jar with ease, “that's... it?” he questioned.

“yeah, that's it, you can go play your game some more,” you smiled, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“but you called me joshua...” he grumbled, you never called him joshua!

“which is your name, if i’m not mistaken,” you pointed out, pinching his cheek. he swatted at your hand and groaned.

he opened his mouth to start complaining more before you quickly stopped him. “okay, okay, i’m sorry babe, you can go play your game again.”

joshua gave you a firm nod, as if he was finally satisfied with your name for him. “okay. let me know if you need anything.” he grinned, kissing your head and then strolling back to the living room.

“you’re a child,” you whispered to yourself, continuing dinner with a smile on your face.

“but you love me!” he called back, somehow hearing you. well, he’s not wrong.

jun

‘thanks, junhui!’

that was the text that you had sent your boyfriend after he told you he bought you a book from the town he was currently in on tour.

he loved gift giving and he knew you loved books so he scoured every bookshop in the town to find the perfect book for you. he excitedly sent you a picture of the book he bought and that was your reply to it.

it made his head spin with reasons of why you could be mad at him.

calling him ‘jun’ was already a rarity in your relationship, but ‘junhui’? he wasn’t sure you’d ever called him that.

‘are you mad at me?’ he texted back, getting straight to the point.

you took nearly 10 minutes to reply, 10 agonizing minutes for jun.

‘not at all, i’ll see you when you get home’ was your response.

now this reply made him absolutely spiral, good thing he was returning home today. but because of your replies to him he made a few extra stops before hopping on the plane.

when you finally arrived back home from work you opened the door and was met with your sheepish looking boyfriend and what looked like a mountain of books behind him.

“babe! what are you doing here? and what is with all the books?” you exclaimed, jumping into his arms and hugging him tight.

jun was taken aback by your reaction, his mind stuck on the thought that you were mad at him. “i thought you were upset with the book i got you… so i kind of bought as many as i could fit in my luggage to make up for it,” he said, his cheeks slowly turning red when he realized you really weren’t mad at him.

you pulled your head back and gave him a look, “what made you think i was mad?” you asked, pulling away and starting to pick up the different books that were piling up on your coffee table.

“you called me junhui…” he whispered, saying it out loud made him feel stupid, it was just a name, his name in fact.

“are you saying that you bought me a hundred books because i called you by your first name?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

he nodded his head sheepishly.

“you are too cute!” you exclaimed, giving him another tight hug, “for the record, i’d tell you if i was mad at you,” you made sure to clarify.

“okay…” he said softly, looking at the absurd amount of books, “should i return all of these now, or-” he began to speak before you cut him off.

“absolutely not,” you said quickly, snatching a book and sitting on the couch beginning to read.

jun slowly made his way next to you and laid his head in your lap, getting comfy while you read aloud to him.

hoshi

“honey?” you called out in your apartment, waiting for hoshi to reply to you. you needed help folding the laundry and hoshi was always eager to help you do whatever you needed.

you heard a distant, “give me a minute!” come from your shared bedroom where your boyfriend was no doubt playing video games again.

you rolled your eyes at his response and started folding the laundry on your own, giving him a few minutes before calling for him again. “honey? i need your help out here,” you called again, waiting to hear his footsteps.

but instead you got another, “just a sec!” which made you pull out the big guns. hoshi hated you calling him by his name, he said he sounded like you were scolding him. but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“kwon soonyoung! i said i need your help!” you called out even louder than before, knowing that would get him.

once his name left your mouth you heard fumbling coming from the room and the door opening quickly, his feet slapped against the floor as he ran over to you.

he already had the expression of a kicked puppy, “i told you not to call me that!” he pouted, standing in front of you.

you gave him a look and pointed at the spot on the couch next to you, “sit,” you said simply. of course, he followed with no question.

“‘m sorry!” he whined when you wouldn’t talk to him, “i was doing really well! you know how hard that game is, and we were winning!” he tried to explain, sloppily folding clothes next to you as he rambled.

“soonyoung?” you said, cutting him off with his name again.

“what,” he said with a frown.

“just fold the damn laundry,” you said with a sigh, grabbing the clothes that he had folded and redoing it properly.

“you’re scary when you’re mad…” he whispered, starting to fold every item of clothing meticulously so you didn’t have anything to be upset with.

he spent the rest of the day giving you his undivided attention and trying to make up for making you upset.

when you finally called him ‘honey’ at the end of the night his face lit up and you forgot why you were even mad with him in the first place.

wonwoo

you were out shopping with wonwoo when something caught your eye from the window of a store. you tugged on your boyfriends coat sleeve.

“wonwoo-” you started, but you were quickly cut off.

“try again.” he said simply, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“wonwoo?” you questioned, tugging his arm again and making him stop walking.

“try again.” he repeated, pulling his phone out of his pocket and pretending to scroll on it.

“wonwoo, what are you-” he cut you off once again with a look.

“one more time, sweetheart,” he said, pointing you in the right direction. this made it click in your head and you just scoffed.

“babe?” you tried, finally his attention turned towards you and he showed off his award winning smile.

“yes, sweetheart? what do you need?” he asked, his voice sweet as honey.

“you're impossible,” you laughed, “i want to go into that store,” you pointed at the clothing store next to where you were stopped.

“then let's go,” he grinned, pulling your hand and leading you into the store, “you know if you call me by my name people might not think we're together,” he said as if it was an obvious fact.

“we're literally holding hands and wearing matching outfits,” you pointed out, which just earned a shrug from your boyfriend as he started grabbing different pieces of clothing that he thought would look good on you.

sure, he was a subtle guy, but he wanted everyone to know that you were his.

woozi

“jihoon, i'm home,” you called out into the apartment. you had a meeting that lasted much longer than usual and it was already dark out when you returned.

your boyfriend had been home all day and by the smell of fresh food you could tell that he had been cooking.

you slipped off your shoes in the entry way and tossed your bag on the couch before slipping into the kitchen and coming up behind your boyfriend. you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder while he stirred the pot in front of him.

“jihoon?” he questioned, scrunching up his face at the mention of his full name. he didn't hate when you said his name, you just never did. “what're you calling me that for?” he asked directly, not assuming anything.

“i realized i don't call you by name, do you not like it?”you asked, lifting your head up and looking over at him, your arms still around him.

“i don't mind, i'm just used to baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “or babe,” another kiss, “love, sweetheart, honey, my one and only,” he listed, pressing a kiss to your face in between each pet name.

you couldn't help but smile at the affection you were receiving from your boyfriend, you pressed a few kisses to his cheek in return and let him resume his cooking while you watched from a seat at the island.

“but you're okay with jihoon?” you asked, wanting to make sure.

“i’m okay with you calling me jihoon,” he said, turning over his shoulder to look at you, “but don't use it too much.” he said, giving you a pointed look.

he wouldn't say it out loud but he loved the sweet pet names you gave him, even the ridiculous ones.

minghao

“what did i do?” was the first words your boyfriend uttered when he walked into your shared home.

you looked up from your spot on the couch and tilted your head at him. “what do you mean?” you questioned, not understanding him.

“i mean, i can tell you're mad so i give you permission to yell at me, just tell me what i did first.” minghao said, bracing himself for whatever you would say to him. by no means did you fight often but whenever you got angry at him he would take it.

“i’m not mad at you,” you said, opening your arms, waiting for your boyfriend to join you on the couch. when he didn't come over you deadpanned, “well now i'm mad that you're not cuddling me.” you joked, waiting for him to come over.

he slowly walked over to you and pulled you against his chest, giving you a cautious look.

“then what was up with that text?” he questioned, pulling out his phone, “you said, and i quote, just wait until you get home, minghao,” he recited, “when have you ever called me by my first name?” he said like it was obvious.

“oh! i made your favorite dessert!” you said with a happy smile, pointing to the kitchen where his treat was freshly made and waiting on the counter.

his face went soft at your happy mood and he gave you a short kiss, “thanks, love,“ he said softly, “but your text did not make it sound like that.” he chuckled.

“oh right, i didn't want to give anything away so i called you minghao, was that too mean?” you asked, hoping you didn't make him worry.

he sighed with a smile and shook his head, “just a bit,” he said honestly, “you never call me minghao,” he pouted, half jokingly but also half seriously.

“i’m sorry, love,” you said, kissing his cheek, “i won't scare you like that again,” you teased, jumping up from the couch and pulling him up with you.

“come eat! i made it all for you,” you said with a smile, leading him to the kitchen and plating his dessert with a smile.

mingyu

mingyu had a cold. and when mingyu got sick he got dramatic. he was currently cuddled up in bed while you took care of him.

you would take his temperature, give him medicine, cook him some soup, and keep him as comfortable as possible while you worked from home.

“mingyu, do you want some soup?” you asked softly, pushing his hair off of his forehead and feeling for a temperature.

his eyes shot open and his lip jutted out. “mingyu?” he questioned softly, “why are you calling me mingyu?” his voice wobbled a bit. but can you blame him? he’s a sensitive man.

“because that’s your name, baby, you don’t like it?” you asked, holding his hand, your voice softened at your boyfriend.

he shook his head at your question, he was always ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘gyu’.

“sorry, baby,” you cooed, “but do you want any soup?” you asked again, hoping it would fix his mood.

“don’t want soup, i want a kiss,” he said with a little mischievous smile, then puckering his lips.

you rolled your eyes, he knew you couldn’t say no to him, especially since he was sick and was on the verge of tears after you called him his first name. “you’re such a baby,” you groaned, “if i get sick it’s your fault,” you reminded him.

“then it’ll be my turn to take care of you,” he said as if it was obvious, leaning up a bit and catching your lips with his.

sure, mingyu was a big baby. but he was your big baby.

dk

dk had been stuck in practice all day while you had a free day. so, being the loving and doting partner that you were you decided to make your boyfriend some dinner. which also included making dinner for his 12 bandmates, but you didn’t mind. you were like a big family.

you were let into the building and made your way to their practice room, hands full of bags carrying multiple different containers full of food.

the boys were all sitting around the room during a break and you popped your head inside, leaving the bags in the hallway.

a few people looked over at you when you opened the door, but every head snapped your way when you opened your mouth.

“seokmin?” you asked, which caused some murmurs among the group.

dk couldn’t remember the last time he was called that name.

‘you better fix whatever you did wrong’ ‘why is she mad at you?’ ‘what did you do?’ different members began to ask all at once to your boyfriend, sending him into even deeper of a panic.

he jumped to his feet and made his way over to you. you didn’t look mad at him, but now he was worried. he grabbed your hand and gently pulled you into the hallway and closed the door to the practice room behind you.

“is everything okay? did i leave something on at home? did i forget to take out the trash?” he asked seriously, thinking of what he could’ve possibly done to elicit you calling him his first name.

you gave him a look in response, furrowing your eyebrows at his rambling. “no… i made you guys food,” you explained, pointing to all the bags on the floor by the two of you, “was just asking you to help me bring it in.”

“huh?” your boyfriend questioned, looking at the bags and then back up to you. “why’d you call me seokmin, then? i haven’t heard that name in ages!” he whined, tugging at your hand.

“oh? i texted jeonghan and told him i was coming over, he told me to call you seokmin,” you laughed, not thinking that he was going to take it that much to heart.

dk sighed and grabbed the bags, pecking your cheek, “thank you for dinner,” he said softly, opening the door to go back into the practice room with you trailing behind him.

his members all looked over and started laughing, apparently they were in on it too.

“you guys suck!” he groaned, “i’m keeping all this food to myself now,” he said childishly, hoarding all the bags by the two of you and trying to keep everyone else away.

eventually he caved and you all ate together, everyone thanking you and still poking fun at your boyfriend.

seungkwan

“seungkwan,” you tried to get your boyfriends attention, standing across the kitchen island from him.

his eyes left his phone and found yours, narrowing in the process. he didn’t say anything so you frowned.

“seungkwan?” he continued to stare at you and you grew slightly agitated since he was seemingly ignoring you.

“can you reply?” you asked with an attitude, crossing your arms.

“i’m just waiting for you to get it right,” he said, mirroring your body language and the amount of sass.

his words only confused you more. “get what right? you’re crazy,” you mumbled, basically having a staring contest with him.

seungkwan just scoffed and rolled his eyes, “my name! i’m waiting for you to get my name right,” he said as if it was obvious. “i am not ‘seungkwan’ to you.” he explained, putting his name in quotations with his fingers.

“are you waiting for me to call you sweetie?” you asked finally, a smile slowly starting to spread on your face. your boyfriend may be a little sassy but he was truly a sweetheart.

“maybe,” he replied simply, his arms still crossed as he waited.

you hummed at his response and then made your way around the island to hug him. “alright, sweetie, i was just going to ask where you wanted to eat tonight,” you grinned, pressing a few sweet kisses on his cheek.

his attitude instantly melted away at the pet name and he pulled you closer to him, “wherever you want, angel,” he replied simply.

it was that easy.

vernon

vernon isn't phased by much. but he does get a little salty when you use his first name on him. he says it sounds too much like a mother scolding him. so, of course, you tease him with it sometimes.

“hansol! can you come to the living room?” you called out in your home, not sure which room he was in.

soon you heard his footsteps and he walked into the room with a scrunched up face.

“yes, darling?” he exaggerated his pet name for you, hoping you'd get the hint.

you spun around in a circle and posed, showing off your new outfit to your boyfriend.

“what do you think? you like my new outfit?” you asked with a blinding smile, posing in a few different ways as your boyfriend watched.

“i think it looks lovely, babe,” he exaggerated again.

“thank you, hansol,” you replied with a sweet smile.

“you look gorgeous, sweetheart,” he tried again.

“thank you, hansol,” you repeated, trying to keep your laugh at bay.

“positively perfect, my love.”

“i appreciate it, hansol.”

“absolutely stunning, angel.”

“you’re too kind, hansol.”

“that’s it, i’m ignoring you for the rest of the day.” he finally said after surveying you for a few minutes. he turned on his heel and walked back to your shared bedroom.

“no!” you called after him, “i’m just joking,” you said in between laughs as you walked fast behind him to catch up.

he shrugged his shoulders and sat back down at his desk, continuing his previous task before you had called him to the living room.

“don’t be sulky now, i was teasing,” you pouted, putting your hands on his shoulders and turning his chair to face you.

“it’s fine, y/n,” he said with a grin, now using your own name back as revenge.

“hey! you can’t call me that!” you whined in response.

“watch me.” he smirked, flicking your forehead gently.

oh how the tables have turned.

dino

this man rarely hears his name from anyone. it’s always ‘dino’ from his friends and ‘honey’ from you.

so when you started calling for ‘chan’ while you were asleep it made his heart break.

‘who is chan?’ he thought to himself, you couldn’t be cheating on him with another guy. right? you wouldn’t do that, he knows you.

but still, once the thought got placed into his head (by no one but himself) he couldn’t help but shake it.

the next morning he was nervous, he didn’t know how to confront you, or what he would do if his suspicions were correct. so while you were making breakfast for the two of you he mustered up the courage to go into the kitchen and talk to you.

“good morning, honey,” you said with a cheery smile, noticing him right away as he made his way next to you. you caught his lips with a quick peck but noticed that he seemed a little tense. “something wrong?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

dino just wrung his hands together and frowned. “do you have something to tell me?” he asked softly, already feeling on the verge of tears as he looked down at his feet, not making eye contact with you.

“no? what’s this about?” you asked, turning the heat down on the stove so you could give him more of your attention.

“i just,” he started, “well um…” he tried again, “i heard you talking in your sleep and you were calling out for some guy named ‘chan’ and i know wouldn’t cheat on me or anything but who is chan?” his words spilled out of him and he was talking a mile a minute while you looked at him, your eyes widening.

he was bracing himself for the answer to his question, ready for the worst.

“honey…” you said gently, taking both of his hands in yours and making him look at you, “you are chan.” you explained, trying to hide your smile since he was clearly so distraught.

“huh?” he asked, not understanding what you were getting at.

“honey, your name is lee chan,” you reminded him.

you could see the gears shifting in his head before his cheeks immediately heated up. he snatched his hands from yours and slapped his face. he was chan. and he couldn’t feel any stupider.

he was so used to being honey that he forgot his literal name.

“forget this happened…” he mumbled, walking away as you stifled your laughs.

[seungcheorry]

the sound of your baby crying plays loudly from your electronic babysitter device. the conversation dies for a bit, and as you're ready to get up, seungcheol stops you.

"it's okay, i'll go get her", he says with a kiss to your cheek.

seungcheol leaves you with his members, answering mingyu's hundred questions, laughing whenever minghao tells him to calm down and asking if vernon is okay, because the poor dude seems scared of the very idea of meeting your daughter.

"you're all idiots", jihoon shakes his head, arms crossed as he laughs with you.

the commotion ends when you hear seungcheol's voice, but also coming from the device you're holding it.

"hey, peanut", he softly says. "it's okay, appa is here. come here."

you could clearly imagine seungcheol picking her up. your eyes meet mingyu's, and the boy is smiling from ear to ear.

"he forgot the babysitter is on", mingyu states, covering his mouth and giggling like a little girl.

"did you sleep well? was it a good nap?", the leader keeps talking. "i hope you're recharged, because your uncles are waiting to meet you. you're already so loved, and i know you're gonna love them back. they can be too much sometimes but don't worry, appa will always be here to help you kick their asses."

the baby girl in his arms make a cute noise, as if she's agreeing to seungcheol.

"yeah, you already know that, don't you?", he laughs.

"he's such a goner", jihoon comments. "he was already a softie, but now being a girl dad..."

vernon chuckles, agreeing with his hyung.

"okay, let's go", seungcheol's voice echoes through the device again. "here's your blanket, it's chilly outside. are you happy that you're gonna meet your uncles? your eyes are shining, baby girl, you seem..."

his voice fades, and as you hear his steps down the hallway you're quick to turn off your end of the babysitter - you didn't want seungcheol to know that his little moment with his daughter has been leaked.

and as he walks into the living room, proudly announcing your baby's name with a smile on his face, you realize that his members didn't want either.