#seungkwan oneshots

[mochacoda]

too nice | hjs

Pairing: Hong Joshua x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Joshua Hong is nice. Too nice. He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. The answer is, no. Problem is, he's your coworker and your neighbor.

Content: Fluff | Coworkers to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: slightly insecure reader, totally inspired by the youngji chocolate milk grandchildren interview, lots of elevators, lots of tension, a bit of drinking, mutual pining, "sweetheart" as a petname, gentleman agenda indeed, except he goes a bit mad at the end, seungkwan is a comedic genius, woozi is the wingman of the year, konglish w/ context clues, reader is scared of loud noises, no "y/n"

Word Count: 10K

Masterlist

────୨ৎ──── Monday

Joshua Hong is nice. Really nice. He opens the door for you every morning walking into work. He insists that he carries heavy file boxes from your boss’ office to your desk. He buys you coffee from the cafe down the street, knowing that the instant machine is almost always broken. Whenever he passes you in the hallway, he always smiles and mouths “fighting!” He notices when your enthusiastic mask slips and your tiredness peaks through. He tells you not to work so hard, and asks if you’ve been sleeping well. 

He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. 

But the answer is, no. 

“He’s just like that. He’s nice to everyone. Get a grip.”

You sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror hanging above your vanity. You’ve been absentmindedly rubbing moisturizer on your cheeks for the last three minutes, at least, thinking about your coworker. How have you gotten to the point of talking to yourself in attempts to rationalize the thoughts of him clouding your mind?

All of a sudden, your alarm rings. You jolt upright, reminded that you have to leave your tiny apartment and head over to your equally small office cubicle. 

You quickly stand up from your vanity chair, then walk over to your closet to grab a jacket. Relying on muscle memory, your hand moves toward the hook it always lies on, only to swipe at air. 

The one and only winter coat you own isn’t there. 

You groan, remembering that you’d put it in the laundry bin after staining it with beer over the weekend, at that disastrous company “bonding” event. You look down at the taupe sweater you’re wearing, pinching the material to guess if it’d be warm enough. It’s barely a centimeter of fabric. 

Glancing at the time on your phone, you decide that the thin sweater would just have to do. 

You turn back to the mirror to do one last check of your appearance, when something catches your eye. Sitting on your bedside table is the plushie Joshua had won for you at the arcade. The bunny stares back at you innocently. You’d placed it there last night before crashing out on your bed, fatigued from the chaos of the company outing—or, more specifically, the secondhand embarrassment recalling your attempts at trying to be normal around Joshua.  

You shake your head roughly. You could cringe at yourself on the way to work. Grabbing your work bag and shoving your shoes on, you rush over to the door. 

Squaring your shoulders, you open it and walk out. And for a moment, as you’re turning your key to lock the door, you think that you’ll be alone for the commute to work for once. 

But then you hear a familiar voice.

“Good morning!” 

You tense, heart beginning to race, then turn around with a weak smile.

“Hi, Joshua.” 

Somehow, you’re not only coworkers with your crush, but also next door neighbors. 

“Hey,” he says, then takes a sharp breath. “It’s pretty cold today. Is that sweater going to be warm enough?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you drop your keys into your bag. “It can’t be that cold.” 

You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk toward the elevator on your floor, pressing the down button. It immediately opens.

“You sure?” 

You nod as the two of you walk inside the elevator. 

Hoping he’ll stop pushing you on your lack of a coat, you ask, “Did you look into the McKinley and Lee file yet?”

“Come on, it’s not even 9am and you’re already attacking me with work!” Joshua dramatically clutches his chest, then lightly punches your arm. “What’d we say about 워라밸, huh?”

You feel your face getting hot, your right hand reflexively going up to where he’d touched your left arm. Was it always this toasty in the elevator?

Meeting his eyes for the first time today, you say, “Yeah, yeah, work-life balance. You’re right.”

His lips turn up and his eyes crinkle into bright crescent moons. You find yourself smiling back at him, despite having tried so hard to avoid his stupidly sweet gaze.  

“I’m just teasin’, you know?” he says, leaning casually against the steel walls of the small elevator.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble again, rubbing the handle of your bag and tapping your foot to give yourself something else to focus on, suddenly aware that the two of you were alone. 

God, could the elevator move any slower? Fidgeting with the loose threads of your sweater, you were on the verge of melting from being near his vicinity for so long. 

Ever since Joshua Hong had arrived two months ago as a transfer from the Seoul branch, you haven’t gone a day without running into him. It was HR’s fault, really. The Human Resources department had placed him in yours, and also gave him the company-funded apartment next door to you. 

He’d spent so much time around you that, if you didn’t see the people who regularly flocked to him, you’d think you were his only friend in the States. It was, and still is, ridiculous. His constant presence has meant that you are constantly aware of yourself. Of how you’re breathing too loud, and how your heart is beating too fast, and how you were in too much of a rush to do your full routine this morning. He makes you care more than usual about how well you perform at work, and, worse, he makes you think about how happy and funny you appear to be. 

The way he teases you for being nervous (although that’s only because he’s around practically all the time) and the way he always notices when you aren’t feeling well—it’s as if he sees right through you. Yes, he sees right through you, and it’s incredibly scary knowing he could confront you at any time—maybe even in this elevator—and say that he’s known all along that you’ve had feelings for him. And what’s worse is that you know he’d be polite with his rejection. He’d be a gentleman, carefully letting you down with—

“Hello? Hellooo?” Joshua says, waving his hand in front of your face.

You jump, blinking rapidly. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“We’re here, sweetheart,” he says gently.

“Oh,” you reply lamely. 

He gestures with his hand for you to walk out of the elevator first. Inside the lobby, he walks by your side. As the two of you approach the door, he reaches it first, and opens it for you to head outside. 

You’re immediately hit with a blast of winter and harsh winds. Your arms instinctively tighten around your stomach, trying to prevent the cold air from rushing up your sweater. 

Joshua turns to you, brows furrowed. His eyes glance over your sweater again, and you can tell he’s about to say something. Certain it’s an I told you so, you quickly say, “Before you start, I’m fine. It’s really not that cold, and the bus is coming soon anyway.”

You march forward toward the crosswalk before the bus stop, knowing he’s following behind you. Once you reach the start of the white lines, you slow down to a stop, waiting for the signal to change. 

Still behind you, Joshua says, “거기 있어봐.” 

“왜?” Though confused, you listen to his request to stay where you are. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling somewhat awkward just standing with your back turned to him. 

He doesn’t answer your question why, but you hear a shuffle and the sound of fabric rustling. Then you feel a warm coat draped over your shoulders. 

You turn back to face Joshua with a start, opening your mouth to protest.

But before you can get a word out, he takes his pointer finger and lightly presses it against your lips. 

“Shh,” he says with a smile. “Tomorrow, wear a jacket, okay?” He pats the top of your head. 

Speechless, you barely bring yourself to nod, then remember to shut your jaw. Let’s just survive this bus ride, you tell yourself. God, it was unfair how nice he was. It only made it harder for you to believe he was like this with everyone—or to stop hoping that, somehow, you might be the exception. 

────୨ৎ──── Tuesday

Ever since you showed up to work on Monday wearing Joshua’s coat, your coworkers have been speculating nonstop about your nonexistent relationship with the man. More specifically, your two closest friends in the department, Boo Seungkwan and Lee Jihoon, have had a lot to say. 

Today would be no different. Huddled around the coffee table in the break room with Seungkwan and Jihoon, you’ve been roped into listening to their comments. 

Eyes darting between the two of them, you silently sip on your coffee.

“I’m a hundred percent sure now. I swear it’s real, he likes her,” Seungkwan says, waving his hands in the air like a madman. 

Jihoon raises his eyebrows. “Are you sure? Remember when you said that the delivery guy had a crush on this one,” he replies while pointing at you, “only for it to be me? Your 촉 is trash.”

Seungkwan scrunches his nose, and huffs in your direction, as if you’re going to defend his skill of guessing office relationships. (You’re not.)

“Your hunch is horrible, I said,” Jihoon says, goading him. 

“No,” Seungkwan frantically shakes his head. “That was a one off. Remember when I said the nepo baby in Finance liked Director Chun’s secretary? He kept staring at her and nobody believed me but I was right!” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “Lucky guess.” 

“No, no, no, my 촉 is excellent, thank you very much.” Seungkwan turns to you, all pouty. “You trust my 촉, right?”

Finding the entire conversation ridiculous, you can’t help but shake your head and laugh. Though Seungkwan prides himself on his supposedly superior hunches, he is really only accurate half the time. 

You raise your coffee cup to your lips and sip on the liquid inside, a perfect state in between steaming hot and lukewarm. 

“Kkah, this coffee is great,” you say to Seungkwan, ignoring his question. 

His eyes suddenly widen, and he frantically waves his pointer finger at you. “Oh, oh! Another thing! He always gets you coffee from that expensive place next door, Cafe whatever. He never gets us coffee, but he always gets you coffee.”

Taken aback, you put the cup down, saying, “No way, he does that for a lot of people. He bought coffee for the receptionist like, last week.”

“That’s because it was her birthday,” Seungkwan says. 

“And how’d you know that?” you ask.

“Because there were happy birthday balloons next to her desk?” Seungkwan says matter-of-factly. 

“Well—” you retort, before getting cut off. 

“You know,” Jihoon suddenly interjects. “I hate to agree, but it’s true. Joshua doesn’t do that for anyone else.” 

“Right?” Seungkwan exclaims, nudging your arm with his elbow. “Come on, I’m so right. Woozi said I’m right. Trust the 촉.”

You rub your temples, feeling ambushed by your loud friends. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You wave them off as you stand up from the little coffee table chair you’d been sitting on for the last few minutes. “I’m going to head out.”

“Where are you going?” Seungkwan asks.

“Away from you,” you joke.

“I know you’re going to the vending machine,” Jihoon accuses. "You always get a snack after coffee."

You raise your hands in mock surrender. 

“Can you get me a granola bar, then? You know the one I like, the blueberry one.” Seungkwan asks.

“Oh, and a Coke Zero for me?” Jihoon adds. “Y’know, not everyone has a coffee fairy named Joshua, like you do.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You know it’s not like that. Besides, you guys just love using my money, don’t you?”

“Guilty,” Jihoon grins.

“Come on, I paid for karaoke last Friday,” Seungkwan complains. “That was way more expensive than a granola bar and a Coke.”

“Coke Zero,” Jihoon says, emphasizing the “Zero.” 

“Tomato, tomato.” Seungkwan wrinkles his nose, enunciating the “ay” and “ah” in the two pronunciations of the word.

“Apples, oranges,” Jihoon insists.

“Okay, okay, let’s not fight, children. A blueberry granola bar and a Coke Zero, on your way.” You give a pretentious salute.

Grasping your coffee, you down the rest of it and get up from the table. You crumple the cup and toss it into the trash can before leaving. 

Walking through the main hallway, you pass the vending machines on your department’s floor, which are known to swallow dollar bills without offering products in return. Between the youngest employees in the department—people like you, Seungkwan, and Jihoon—you’ve discovered a secret spot that has better machines. 

Once you reach the elevator, you tap on the down button. When the doors open, you walk inside and press on the “G” and “Door Close” buttons. 

The elevator doors close smoothly, and you tap your foot as you watch the numbers at the top right corner go down from 8. It reminds you of the awkward elevator ride from Monday morning, but you quickly shake those thoughts out of your head. 

It’s best not to think of Joshua when you don’t have to.

The garage is a relatively far trek from floor 8, but it’s a worthwhile time sacrifice. The other floors (and by extension, their vending machines) are locked by key cards for employees of their respective departments, so it’s either you take a chance with the floor 8 machines or head to the basement. You, Seungkwan, and Jihoon have all found that you’d rather not take that chance. 

The elevator announces your arrival to the ground floor with a ding, and as the doors open, you make a beeline toward the machines. 

Seeing that someone is already using the vending machine closest to the elevator, you walk past it toward the machine closest to the doors leading out of the hall and into the garage. 

“Blueberry granola bar, Coke Zero. Blueberry granola bar, Coke Zero,” you repeat to yourself under your breath.

Coming to a stop by the vending machine, you scan the snacks inside. Grabbing your wallet, you fish some dollars out and double check the numbers of the items before lifting your right hand up to the combination pad. 

Jihoon first, because he was slightly less annoying than Seungkwan this morning: Coke Zero, number 405. You punch the numbers into the machine. When it flashes $2.00, your eyes widen. 

“Two dollars for a soda is robbery,” you groan. 

Still, you count two dollars out from the wad of cash in your left hand, then feed it into the machine. The machine begins whirring, the spiral in 405 moving forward. But just as you think the drink is going to come out, the spiral stops. 

“Oh, come on,” you mutter. 

You press on the small button next to the number pad that you guess is made for delivering change, but it doesn’t return your money. 

Maybe putting in two more dollars would make the machine move and spit out two drinks? Immediately acting on the thought, you punch 405 in the number pad again and feed two more dollars into the machine, only for it to whir without delivering the Cokes again. Another two dollars later, and the same happens. 

Taking matters into your own hands, you begin banging on the front of the vending machine. After around five seconds of failing to make the machine respond to physical force, your arms fall from the screen back down to your sides. 

Clenching your fists, you sigh and count out two more dollars from your left hand. Then, your right hand stalls. 

On second thought, you really don’t want to lose more money to the machine. Maybe you should try to force it out one more time? You shove the remaining cash into your back pocket. 

You raise your clenched fists again, but before your hands meet the vending machine glass, a voice suddenly comes from right behind you. 

“Whoa, whoa.” 

Unfortunately, you’d recognize that honey-coated voice anywhere. 

You spin around wide-eyed, coming shockingly close to Joshua Hong. His face is dangerously near yours, and his arms have wrapped around your body to clasp your hands in his.

“Shua? Wha—” Your voice is breathless, trailing off like you’ve forgotten how to speak.

“Hey, don’t fight the machine. You’ll only end up hurting your hands.”

His words are soft, but the way his thumb grazes your knuckles leaves a faint hint of warmth, like he’s lit a match against your skin. You should pull back—really, you should. But the closeness, the weight of his presence, keeps you frozen in place.

Your heart stutters in protest. This is nothing. He’s always like this. Always caring, always thoughtful. Always too close.

And yet, remembering what Seungkwan and Jihoon said, some part of you also wonders: Why does it feel different when it’s me?

Scowling, you drop his hands and take a step back, like distance will save you. "It's fine. I'm handling it."

His brow arches at your defiance, and for a moment, his gaze searches yours, like he’s looking for something you’re not ready to admit.

"Are you?" he asks, the words laced with amusement.

Your hands ball into fists at your sides, both in frustration and to keep them from reaching out for him again and betraying you. 

“I am,” you insist, though the heat rising in your cheeks threatens to undermine your confidence.

But then, just as quickly, he tilts his head, and his lips curve into a smirk—soft, upturned at the corners, with those faint dimples that could bring a fortress down.

And for a moment, just a moment, you wonder if you’re the only one feeling this way.

But before you can think of a sharp retort, his voice cuts through the haze in your head.

“You should’ve just asked me for help—like always.”

The softness in his tone, the familiarity, pulls you up short. It’s almost unbearable how easy it is for him to say things like this. Like it’s normal. Like it’s not turning your brain into static.

It’s too much. He can’t keep getting away with this, with being so nice to you all the time. It’s not fair.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you blurt out, clenching your fists tighter. You’ve got to hold your ground.

Joshua cocks his head slightly. “I thought you like it when I help you?” 

Your face gets, if possible, even hotter. 

Honestly, what can you even say to that? 

Desperately avoiding his face, you stare at the much safer collar of his shirt. It’s an off white color, like the fur of the stuffed bunny he’d gotten you at the arcade. It remains on your nightstand because you still have no idea what to do with it. 

Realizing that you didn’t answer him, you finally deflect. “Where’d you even come from? I didn’t see you.”

“Over there,” he says softly, pointing at the vending machine by the elevator.

“Oh.” You press your lips together, belatedly realizing that the person you’d passed on your way to this vending machine had been Joshua all along. 

“So, what’d you need? I’ll fix it for you.” 

You feel your face getting hot again. “Coke Zero,” you mumble.

“I thought you didn’t like Coke?” Joshua asks. 

He remembers?

“It’s not for me,” you explain. “For Woozi.”

“Woozi?”

“Oh, I mean Jihoon.”

Strangely feeling like you have to explain yourself to him, to let him know that you’re only friends, you say, “We went to college together. Me, Jihoon, and Seungkwan. We just happened to get into the same department here.” 

Joshua hums in acknowledgment. “No wonder, I always saw the three of you together. Made me feel left out.”

Your heart drops. Eyes wide, you cross your arms repeatedly, saying, “I never—we never meant to exclude you at all!”

“That’s okay, I have you to talk to, right?” he says with what you can only describe as an upside down smile. 

You swallow and nod. 

“Y’know I was just teasing,” he says casually. “I wasn’t offended.” 

Before you can confront him about the mental whiplash he’s putting you through, he grasps your shoulders and maneuvers you to the right, so that he can stand in front of the machine. His touch was fleeting, but your heart skips a beat anyway. 

You watch as he grabs two dollars out of his wallet, then punches 405 into the keypad. As the spiral whirs, he sends two precise kicks to the bottom left of the machine.

Doubting his method, you raise your eyebrows in uncertainty. But just as you do, the whirring is accompanied by the sound of the soft drinks falling.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! 

That actually works? 

Joshua bends down and sticks a hand into the bottom flap of the machine, pulling out the drinks that had just dropped from slot 405. 

“Four Coke Zeros, at your service. Anything else?”

“Oh, a blueberry granola bar for Seungkwan. And those chips for me,” you say with mild surprise, pointing at slots 201 and 302. 

“Sure thing.” He taps the corresponding numbers and slips some bills into the machine. 

Thankfully, 201 and 302 are very cooperative, unlike 405. 

“Thank you, you didn’t have to pay for those,” you say, your fingers brushing against his as you accept Seungkwan’s granola bar and your bag of chips. The faint contact sends an unexpected jolt through your chest, one you force yourself to ignore.

“Oh, it’s not for free,” Joshua replies, his lips curling into a smile that’s soft yet pointed. “You owe me a coffee from next door.”

You blink at him, caught off guard. “Tomorrow morning, then?”

He nods his head slightly, a gesture so casual it almost feels calculated. “How about today, after work?”

Your heart stutters. The way he’s looking at you—his eyes shining, eyebrows raised a little, with a faint crease between his brows—feels strange. It’s somewhat vulnerable, like he’s waiting for something.

No, surely not. Surely, he’s not—

The thought dies before it can fully form, drowned out by the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Sure,” you manage to squeak out, your voice embarrassingly small in the space between you.

His smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something else in his expression. Relief? Satisfaction?

You swallow hard and grip the snacks in your hands like they’re a lifeline. You need to get a hold of yourself. Joshua Hong is not asking you out. He’s just nice. That’s all.

────୨ৎ──── Wednesday

“You’re joking. You’re actually joking.” Seungkwan’s voice rings throughout his waterlogged apartment. 

“Most unfortunately, I’m not.” You blink, feeling a droplet of sweat getting dangerously close to your eyes. 

You carefully wipe the sweat that’s gathered at your forehead using your forearm, since your hands are gloved up. You definitely don’t want the nasty residue from the rubber gloves getting on your face. 

Seungkwan glares. “You didn’t tell me that you were on a date with You Know Who! Otherwise, I wouldn’t have called you.”

“Well, you did,” you say exasperatedly, grabbing an antique-looking lamp and lightly placing it in the box of items to throw away. 

“Tell me what happened, exactly. Don’t leave a single thing out!” Seungkwan barks, waving at you from across the room, where he’s dismantling a chair to put in the box. 

In the middle of clearing out Seungkwan's damp furniture, your mind drifts back to yesterday afternoon, to the cafe where…

────୨ৎ────

…The soft hum of coffee grinders and the steady chatter of customers make you feel warm inside, easing the tension from earlier that morning. You sit across from Joshua at a tiny table near the main window, taking in how the late afternoon sun casts a golden glow over his face. He looks like royalty, and you think you could watch him for forever. 

He’s nursing a cappuccino, his slender fingers tracing absent patterns on the side of the mug, while you sip on a mocha latte, its foam already starting to lose its shape. Staring at the latte, you think it’s about time you moved on from small talk.

“You really didn’t have to pay for my drink,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction. It’s hard to argue with him when he wields his secret weapon every time. 

He smiles, that same boyish, disarming grin he always gives you. “It’s just coffee. I get you one almost every day, y’know?”

“Yeah, but I was supposed to—”

“Exactly,” he interrupts, eyes sparkling. “Think of it as payback. For all the mornings you made brighter just by showing up.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, heat spreading down your neck as you lower your gaze to the coffee table, suddenly fascinated by the faint scratch marks on its surface. “You’re too nice,” you manage, the words feeling as flimsy as tissue paper.

“Only to you,” he says, and though his tone is light, the words feel impossibly heavy. Like they’re carrying something you’re both too afraid to name.

Your heart twists violently as your eyes snap up to meet his. The way he’s looking at you—steady, unyielding—makes your breath hitch. This is Joshua, you remind yourself, the nicest guy you’ve ever met. And yet, you can’t ignore the way it feels like he’s waiting for something. For you.

“You don’t mean that. I don’t believe that.” The words spill out before you can stop them, shaky and uneven. But even as you say them, a part of you aches with the knowledge that it’s not entirely true.

Because deep down, you want to believe him. You want to hold onto the idea that he’s different with you, that the warmth in his voice and the way he looks at you isn’t just another facet of his kindness but something more.

But that hope is dangerous.

If you believe him and you’re wrong—if this is just Joshua being Joshua, warm and selfless to everyone he meets—it’ll break you. So instead, you tell yourself that it’s impossible. That he can’t mean it.

You clutch onto every reason why: the way he always holds the door open for others, how he buys coffee for the entire team sometimes, the way he seems to know exactly what to say to make anyone smile. It’s who he is, you think, not just with you.

The idea of reading too much into his words—of exposing your heart only to realize you’ve misunderstood everything—is unbearable. So you push it away, burying the small flicker of hope before it has a chance to grow.

But even as you deny him, there’s a quiver in your voice, a hesitation that gives you away.

He leans forward slightly, his arms resting on the table, shrinking the distance between you. “You should. Don’t you ever wonder why?”

Your breath catches. His words hang in the air, heavy and charged, and for a second, you think he’s about to say something that will upend everything you’ve convinced yourself to believe about him.

“Joshua, I—”

Before you can finish, your phone buzzes loudly on the table, shattering the moment. 

You scramble to grab it, breaking eye contact as you glance at the screen.

It reads: “Kwannie Kwannie Kwannie.”

You sigh deeply but answer the call, putting the phone to your ear. “What?”

“Help!” Seungkwan’s voice comes through in a panicked shriek. You take the phone a few inches away from your ear, wincing at the sound, then stiffen. His tone did not sound like one of his regular, made-up crises. Bringing your phone closer to your ear, you hear him shout. “My apartment’s flooding! There’s water up to my knees, my coach is floating! I don’t know what to do! Jihoon’s useless with this kind of stuff, and you’re the only person who knows where my emergency shutoff is—”

“Okay, okay, breathe. 4-7-8 method. I’ll be right there,” you say, shooting up from your chair.

Joshua watches you, his brows knitting together in concern. “Everything okay?”

“Seungkwan’s apartment is flooding. I have to go help him,” you explain, grabbing your bag. 

“I’ll come with you,” he immediately offers, already standing.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve got it.” You force a smile, though you’re still buzzing with the tension of whatever had just happened. “Thanks for the coffee.”

Before he can respond, you rush out the door, heart racing—not just from Seungkwan’s crisis, but from the words Joshua almost said. You hear him calling your name, but you’re unable to bring yourself to look back, afraid you’d cave. 

If you had, you would’ve seen a crestfallen Joshua still standing by the table, frozen in place...

────୨ৎ────

...Seungkwan drops a chair leg. 

If the water hadn’t already been drained (by you, yesterday, when you figured out how to use Seungkwan’s emergency shutoff valve), the metal leg would have made a small splash and floated in knee-deep waters. Instead, it fell obnoxiously loudly onto Seungkwan’s hardwood floor, ringing throughout the half-empty apartment with full force.

“Ah! Seungkwan!” You jump, nearly dropping your drill, which you had been using to unscrew the legs of the coffee table while retelling what had happened Tuesday afternoon.  

“He was about to confess,” Seungkwan says slowly and robotically, as if caught in a trance. 

You can’t bring yourself to deny it.

“He was about to confess,” he repeats.

Letting out a major sigh, you hop up onto the dining table, tapping it. “You know, we have to dismantle this too.” 

“He was about to confess!” His sudden shout startles you again. “And where the hell is Woozi when we need him?”

“Probably on his way, as he was when you checked 20 minutes ago?” you say dryly. 

“He needs to get a load of this. I was right!” Seungkwan waves the chair leg in the air triumphantly, far too close to the ceiling for comfort. 

“Dude,” you laugh, “you’re going to scratch the ceiling, put it down!”

Seungkwan pouts. “But this is my victory leg.”

“Tell that to Woozi,” you grin. “I think you should show him the leg, first thing.”

He lights up. “Excellent idea.”

All of a sudden, you hear someone knocking on Seungkwan’s door. Jumping off of the table, you skip across the living room down to the narrow main hallway. Once you reach the door, you crack it open a few inches—as far as the chain link will let you. 

“Woozi, you’re so late!” Your face breaks out into a smile upon seeing your friend. 

“My bad,” Jihoon says with a chuckle. 

“`Y’know, Kwannie has a big surprise for you?”

“I can’t wait,” he says with a sigh. “How bad is the damage?”

“See for yourself.” You take down the chain lock and swing the door fully open with a smile, only to falter at the sight of the one person you thought you’d successfully avoided all day. 

Joshua. 

For there he was. 

“Here to help,” he says shyly, hands folded behind his back. 

You give Jihoon a panicked look. 

Jihoon explains, “I was heading out of the office when I caught him in the hallway. He said he was down to help Seungkwan, and I figured the more, the merrier.”

The sight of Joshua standing in Seungkwan’s doorway makes your stomach drop. It’s like all the tension from earlier has come rushing back in, this time amplified by the unexpectedness of his arrival.

You plaster on a polite smile, though you’re sure it looks more like a grimace. “Great,” you manage to choke out, turning on autopilot to lead him and Jihoon down the hallway.

But inside, your thoughts are spiraling. What is he doing here? Does he know you’ve been avoiding him all day? Did Jihoon tell him anything on the way over?

Your chest tightens as you think about Seungkwan waiting in the living room, blissfully unaware of Joshua’s presence. You can already imagine the chaos—Seungkwan, ever the open book, accidentally blurting out something incriminating.

What if he says something about the coffee shop? What if he mentions the way you couldn’t stop talking about Joshua just now?

You’re half a step ahead of them, your mind racing through ways to keep the situation from unraveling, but drawing nothing but blanks. 

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Joshua. He’s walking casually beside Jihoon, his hands tucked into his pockets, a beanie snug on his head. He looks different, less polished than usual, but still effortlessly himself. And for a moment, you falter.

Because despite your panic, there’s a part of you that’s almost glad he’s here. A part of you that can’t help but wonder what it means that he came at all.

When you reach the living room, you come to a hard stop, frantically making a small X with your arms. 

But Seungkwan has his attention focused on that blasted chair leg, and of course, he immediately opens with: “Guess who has the biggest news of all time! The biggest action since the Great Orange Plaza Incident—”

Cue the obnoxiously loud laughter from you. “Joshua’s here! Say hi!” 

Seungkwan turns to the hallway, where, indeed, Joshua is standing. Shocked, he drops the metal leg, and it announces its contact with the ground through a loud clang. 

Wincing at the sound like earlier, you accidentally shift your body backward into someone behind you. 

“Sorry,” you say, hoping it was Jihoon. 

His arms come up to grasp your waist, holding you steady.

“No worries,” comes Joshua’s voice. 

You shut your eyes, somehow both drowning in embarrassment and burning up at the spot where he’s touched you. 

You quickly step out of his hold, trying not to let your flustered state show. “Right,” you say, clearing your throat. “Let’s go now.”

Joshua chuckles softly, his voice like velvet. “그래, 바로 가자.” Right, let’s go straight away.

Seungkwan, thankfully, is too caught up in his shock to notice the moment, though Jihoon raises a single eyebrow in quiet observation.

As you guide Joshua and Jihoon into the living room, you internally rehearse all the ways you can deflect or redirect the inevitable awkwardness. But before you can settle on anything, Joshua is already rolling up his sleeves. You avert your eyes from his biceps.

“What needs moving?” he asks.

You glance around the room, desperate for something to hand off to him. Your eyes land on the dining table—big, heavy, and far too ambitious for one person to handle. Perfect. “The dining table,” you say, trying to sound casual. “We need to get it downstairs to the lobby for pickup.”

Seungkwan perks up. “Oh, that thing’s a beast. Good luck.”

“I’ll help,” Joshua says immediately, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looks at you.

You blink, caught off guard. “Uh, okay. You and Woozi can move it.”

But Jihoon smirks, catching on. “Actually, I just remembered I promised to help Seungkwan with,” his voice trails. “Something else. You’ve got this, right?”

Before you can protest, Jihoon grabs the metal chair leg and joins Seungkwan in the corner, leaving you and Joshua alone with the daunting table.

“Looks like it’s just us,” Joshua says, his teasing smile widening.

You swallow thickly, resigned. “Okay. Let’s get this over with.”

Together, you begin maneuvering the table toward the hallway. It’s heavy and awkward, and you struggle to find a good grip on the edges.

“Here,” Joshua says, dropping his side of the table and moving closer. His hands brush over yours as he adjusts your grip, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. “That should help.”

The contact sends a jolt through you, but you force yourself to focus. “Thanks,” you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper.

By some miracle, the table fits in the elevator, though the tight space forces you and Joshua closer together. You’re much too aware of how little distance there is between you, the faint scent of his cologne making your heart race even faster.

“This reminds me of Monday morning,” Joshua says suddenly, his voice soft.

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze. What is he talking about? The elevator? The coat? Both?

He nods, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

Your stomach twists. “What about it?” you ask cautiously.

His eyes searching yours. “I just,” he hesitates for a moment, before continuing. “I feel like we keep dancing around something. Don’t you?”

Your breath catches, and suddenly the space feels even smaller. “What do you mean?”

Joshua steps just a fraction closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I mean,” he pauses for a second or two before picking up again. “This. Us. I feel like there’s something you’re not saying. And I’m not sure if I should say it first.”

The elevator dings, announcing your arrival at the lobby, but neither of you moves.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Shua, I—”

Before you can finish, the doors slide open, and an older woman waiting outside peers in, her curious gaze snapping you both out of the moment.

“Uh, sorry,” you stammer, quickly stepping out with your end of the table.

Joshua follows, but you can feel his eyes on you, his earlier words hanging heavy in the air.

As the two of you set the table down near the designated pickup area, he leans in slightly, his voice low. “This isn’t over.”

Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest, but you force yourself to nod, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah. Okay.”

Even as you head back to Seungkwan’s apartment, your mind is racing with the possibilities of what he might say—and whether you’re ready to hear it.

As you reenter Seungkwan’s apartment, the weight of Joshua’s words hangs like a thick fog in the air. It’s almost suffocating, the way your heart beats erratically at the thought of what he might say next. 

You glance over your shoulder, half-expecting Joshua to be right behind you, but he's still out by the lobby. The sound of Seungkwan and Jihoon’s voices floats down the hallway as they continue their discussion, oblivious to the tension that’s spiraling in your chest.

You step inside, but you can’t shake the feeling that everything is about to change. Joshua’s words—“This isn’t over”—echo in your mind, repeating with every beat of your heart. What did he mean? What does he expect?

“Everything okay?” Seungkwan calls from the living room, looking up with a raised brow as you walk in.

“Yeah,” you chirp, trying to act normal, but your voice comes out too high.

He narrows his eyes. “You sure? You look a little off. Everything go well?” It’s unsaid, but you know there’s a “with Joshua” attached to the end of his sentence.

You force a smile, but it’s shaky at best. “Yeah, the table's gone now.” You can’t tell him. Not yet. Not with the weight of Joshua’s unspoken words still pressing against your chest.

Seungkwan studies you for a moment, his gaze flickering toward the hallway. “I’ll take your word for it. So, you two, huh?”

Your eyes widen involuntarily, and you try to laugh it off. “아니, 아니! 그런거 아니야, it’s really not like that.”

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure. Anyway, me and Jihoon are going to go to the bar. Want to come?”

The offer hangs in the air, and you realize, suddenly, that it’s the perfect distraction. You need space from your own thoughts. You need to calm your racing heart. Maybe getting out of here will help.

“I’ll go,” you blurt, before you can second-guess yourself. “Haven’t gone weekday drinking in a while. Let me just grab my bag.”

Seungkwan gives you a knowing look but says nothing more. As you step into the hallway to grab your bag off a high-hanging hook, your mind is still whirling with the unanswered questions about Joshua. 

Walking further down the hallway, you find Seungkwan and Joshua standing near Jihoon. 

Jihoon’s already at the door, his hand on the handle. “Come on, let’s go. I need some drinks in my system after today.”

You nod, attempting to shove your thoughts away for the night. The cool air outside greets you, and the cacophony of the city feels like a welcome distraction. As you make your way to the bar, Seungkwan and Jihoon immediately dive into their usual banter, but your mind is elsewhere. You keep glancing over at Joshua, who seems uncharacteristically quiet tonight, his usually playful energy subdued.

By the time you reach the bar and order drinks, you’re beginning to relax. Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the fact that you don’t have to think about what’s going on between you and Joshua, but you can’t help but feel like you’re walking a thin line between tension and relief.

But as the night goes on, Seungkwan and Jihoon quickly fall into drunken antics, leaving you and Joshua alone on the quieter side of the bar. The air between you both is thick, like an invisible thread is pulling you closer, yet neither of you dares to speak.

You fiddle with your glass, wondering if you should speak up first. You only have so much courage, though. 

Thankfully, Joshua clears his throat, his voice low. “넌 좀,” he hesitates for a bit, before deciding to call you out, “조용한데?” 

Well, it’s no secret that you’re being quiet. He was, too, at least until now.

You glance up, meeting his gaze for the first time since earlier. His eyes are intense, his lips pulled into that soft, half-smile you know and adore.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hang between you like a dare.

Joshua leans in just slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. “What part?”

Your heart races, but you hold his gaze. “About how this isn’t over?”

He’s quiet for a beat, then smiles—just a little. “I meant what I said.”

And in that moment, you realize you’re in way deeper than you thought.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest, like a stone sinking deep into water. You want to ask him more, to press him, to demand answers, but the words feel trapped in your throat. Instead, you look away, fidgeting with the rim of your glass, your fingers tracing the condensation. The alcohol has started to mellow your nerves, but the tension still hovers in the air between you two, thick and almost palpable.

“You’ve been quiet too,” you manage to say, keeping your voice steady despite the jittery feeling in your stomach. “What’s on your mind?”

Joshua doesn’t answer right away, his gaze flickering toward the noisy group in the corner where Seungkwan and Jihoon are laughing too loudly, practically leaning on each other for support. The laughter echoes in the background, a sharp contrast to the quiet bubble that has formed around you and Joshua. 

It’s the kind of moment that feels too intimate, too close to the edge of something that could change everything.

“I don’t know,” he says finally, and his voice is soft, thoughtful. “I guess I’m trying to figure out if you’re really as clueless as you act, or if you’re just pretending.” His eyes meet yours, and there's something almost vulnerable in his gaze, a flicker of hesitation that’s rare for him.

You feel your heart skip a beat, caught off guard by the question. “Clueless?” You repeat, the word tasting strange on your tongue. “I’m not clueless.”

“그래? Are you sure about that?” he asks, his smile barely there, his tone teasing but with an edge of something else—something deeper.

You narrow your eyes, a little irritated by how easily he toys with you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say, and then immediately regret it. It sounds too defensive, too much like you’re trying to cover something up.

Joshua leans in slightly, his expression serious now, no longer playful. “I think you do. I think you’re scared.” His voice drops, barely above a whisper, but it lands like a truth you can’t deny. “You’re scared of what might happen if you admit what you feel.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The world feels like it slows down, the noise of the bar fading into the background as his words settle in your mind. The truth in them stings, and you don’t know how to respond. 

He’s right, but you don’t want to admit it. 

Not yet. 

Not to him.

Before you can say anything, Seungkwan stumbles over, dragging Jihoon along with him. “You two are too quiet,” Seungkwan says with a grin, clearly tipsy. “What’s going on here? Trying to plot against us?”

Joshua straightens up quickly, his smile returning to its usual playful, disarming self. “Nothing like that, we were just talking,” he replies, his voice smooth and easy.

You take a deep breath, trying to push the moment away, but the tension still lingers in your chest. You force a smile, though it feels weak. “Yeah, just talking.”

Jihoon gives you both a sideways look, too drunk to notice the underlying current between you and Joshua. “You two really are something, huh?”

Seungkwan laughs, waving a hand as if dismissing Jihoon’s comment. “Yeah, yeah, don’t mind them. They’re just having a little ‘moment,’” he says, emphasizing the last word with air quotes.

You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Contrary to Seungkwan’s comment, the moment’s long gone now, robbed by the chaos of their antics. But you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted, that you and Joshua are standing on the edge of something—something both terrifying and irresistible.

And for the first time, you decide that you’re ready to see where it leads.

────୨ৎ──── Thursday

You wake up on Thursday with a start, the events from last night already feeling faraway. Joshua had dropped you off, and you had spent most of the night restlessly thinking of him, going over how to confess.  

The bright morning light filters through the blinds, causing you to squint at the time on your alarm clock. It’s much earlier than you’d usually get up. You fight the urge to go back to sleep.

With resolve, you push yourself up off your bed and run through your morning routine with extra care. And by the time your last alarm rings, you’re ready to tell him. 

You walk over to the front door, waiting for the telltale signs of movement coming from the apartment next door. Only, you hear nothing. Not even footsteps shuffling around. 

Your elevator ride is silent. Your bus ride is silent. 

Joshua had left before you’d even woken up—and you’d woken up pretty damn early—and his absence only made you more aware of the pressing silence between the two of you. 

When you reach your cubicle, your eyes graze over the desk repeatedly, finding something is wrong.

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?” Jihoon asks from the cubicle next to you.

“Nothing.” Everything. 

You stare at the spot where Joshua puts a cup of coffee from the cafe next door every day. It’s empty. 

“설마,” you whisper. No way. Did he decide to drop you because you didn’t answer him? But what else could explain his radio silence? You haven’t gone to work alone in over a month. 

“설마 what?” Seungkwan asks, dropping into his office chair to the left of you at 9 on the dot.

When you don’t answer, he asks Jihoon, “What’s going on over here?”

Jihoon shrugs. “Probably drama with You Know Who.”

“Oh,” he says, and the two of them drop it. 

Before you know it, the clock has hit 5pm, and you’ve spent the entire workday soullessly typing on your keyboard, lifting your head up every time you’ve seen movement in the room. Only, the man you were looking for was nowhere to be seen. 

You miss the stolen glances and bright smiles you used to exchange. The silence had been stifling. You really did want to talk to him, to clear the air today, but he just never showed. Heart sinking, you pack up your bag and put on your coat. You stall for a moment remembering how he’d given you his coat just a few days prior. Did he really decide to give up because you weren’t responding well?

The bus ride back to your apartment is silent, but your head is full of speculative thoughts. When the driver announces your stop, your heart settles into a newfound determination. 

Maybe he could let go, but you can’t. You won’t let him go.

“I’ll just barge in! Say my piece, then let him talk,” you mumble under your breath, pushing the lobby doors open.

Is it a good plan? You aren’t sure, but hopefully he’d forgive you for being hesitant for so long. You honestly don’t know how he did it—how he was able to stand your wishy-washiness?

Eyes tracing the ground, you make a beeline for the elevator, continuing your whispers. “And what am I going to say? God, I need a good opening line. Something like, please please take me back? Actually, we were never dating, so I guess that doesn’t make sense. Please please like me back? Is that too desperate? Well, I am desperate, so—”

Out of the corner, you see the elevator beginning to close.

“Hold the doors, please!” you shout, running as fast as you can. Speed is of the essence, so you can confront him as soon as possible.

You make it across half the lobby in record time, panting as you enter the elevator. 

“Thank,” you say in between breaths, hands on your knees, “you—”

When you look up, your heart stops.

Joshua Hong. Dressed dapper in an all black suit and carrying, of all things, a briefcase?

“Shua?” you say breathlessly, immediately straightening.

Joshua looks down, his usual calm expression faltering for just a second when he sees you out of breath. For a moment, the two of you simply stand there in silence, the elevator’s gentle hum filling the space between you.

“Where were you?” you ask, your voice quieter than you'd intended, a hint of nervousness creeping in despite your earlier determination.

Joshua clears his throat, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Director Chun had me accompany him to the Lee meeting. You?” he asks, his gaze softening as he watches you catch your breath.

Your mouth suddenly feels dry. The reality of the situation hits you hard. 

This was it. 

This was the moment. 

But now that you’re face to face with him, you’re unsure of what to say. You should’ve prepared a real speech, practiced your words properly. Instead, the dreaded silence lingers.

“I,” your voice trails off. “I just—” You let out a shaky breath, then shake your head as if to clear the mess of thoughts swirling inside. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About things. About us.”

Joshua tilts his head slightly, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes. “About us?”

You nod, trying to steady your breath. The elevator seems to be going slower than usual, as if the universe itself is giving you more time to process, to speak. You feel a strange mix of nerves and determination pushing you forward.

“I didn’t handle things right. I was,” you pause for a moment, carefully choosing your next words. “Unsure. Confused. And I thought maybe if I stayed quiet, I’d be able to ignore everything. But I can’t,” you say, the words finally coming out in a rush. “I can’t ignore you. I don’t want to.”

Joshua’s eyes soften, his posture shifting, his briefcase clutched tightly in his hands. “You’re not the only one who’s been confused,” he admits, his voice low, almost vulnerable. “I didn’t know what to do either, but I couldn’t let you slip away without at least trying. I care about you. A lot.”

The elevator jerks suddenly, and you both look up in surprise as the lights flicker. A loud noise rings through the space, and with a groan, the elevator comes to an abrupt halt. You both freeze, and your heart jumps into your throat.

“Shit,” you gasp, instinctively taking a step back from the elevator doors, but your foot catches in a brief moment of panic, and before you know it, you’re pulled toward Joshua.

He catches you effortlessly, his hand impossibly warm at your back, steadying you as you stumble. “괜찮아?” His voice is gentle but concerned. 

You can’t help but laugh nervously, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

For a moment, the two of you simply stand there, him holding you in his arms, your heart still racing from the shock. Then you both realize the situation. No Wi-Fi. No way to call for help. Just the two of you, stuck in this tiny box, the tension thick in the air. The sound of your heavy breathing fills the silence as the elevator remains motionless.

Joshua clears his throat, his voice teasing again. “Well, if you think about it, this isn’t that new.”

In response, you lightly laugh, thinking back to all the times throughout the week where he's kept you steady. The you of Monday morning never would have thought you’d be in this position now, not to mention the you of two months ago.

You glance up at him, mind still racing. The unexpected turn of events had thrust you into a corner. And yet, in some strange way, you felt it was just the kind of moment the two of you needed. 

Alone. 

No distractions. 

No running away.

“Well, at least we have some time to talk now, huh?” you say with a small, tentative smile.

Joshua meets your gaze, his eyes full of understanding. “Yeah. Looks like we do.”

And for the first time in days, the silence doesn’t feel suffocating. Instead, it feels like an opportunity, a moment to finally clear the air.

────୨ৎ──── Friday

You’ve been in the elevator for hours, but it doesn’t feel like it. Somehow, conversation just flows.

“I liked you first,” you find yourself saying, voice barely above a whisper as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“그래?” comes Joshua’s soft reply, so close that you can feel the vibrations in his chest. Really? 

You can’t believe he even has to ask. Yes, really. You were so obvious about it. So affected by him that you couldn’t even look at the stuffed bunny he’d gotten you on Sunday, reminded of his soft, kind eyes. 

So you nod, “Mm-hm.” 

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment, your body still adjusting to the peaceful rhythm of being near him. You’d been thinking about this for the longest time, but now it feels so natural, so certain, and you can’t help but regret all the time you’d spent secretly pining over him. God, you’d even asked him to stop being so nice to you out of pure desperation. Who does that?

“Since when?” His voice is smooth, warm, like a soft melody, and you can’t help but feel drowsy with the way it lulls you into comfort.

You pause, eyes drifting to the floor of the elevator as you try to gather your thoughts. “Since when?” you repeat, the memory taking you back.

It was a chaotic day, the kind of day where everything felt so loud and full of people. You were at that welcome party for the new transfer—Joshua—but it had been too overwhelming. So, you’d slipped away, finding solace in the quiet of the cafe next door. You’d gotten a coffee to-go, and you sat outside on a bench, letting the world pass you by as you listened to your audiobook. That was your kind of perfect Saturday.

You never saw him that day.

But you did see him a week later, in the hallway of your apartment building. You’d just locked your door, ready to head out when you noticed the man next door fumbling with his own keys. His moving process had seemed slow, but that day, you finally got to exchange quick introductions before stepping into the elevator together. And somehow, in that brief exchange, you found yourself already falling, the way his laugh filled the space between you, the way you both laughed at the coincidences stacking up—the apartment, the floor, the building, the department. It was electric, the start of something special. 

You glance up at him now, still leaning against his shoulder. “When we first met, in the hallway,” you finally say, voice soft.

Joshua smiles, a glint of fondness in his eyes. “That was when we first met?”

You furrow your brows, confused. “Wasn’t it?”

Joshua laughs quietly, the sound like a comforting hum in the otherwise still elevator. “I remember differently,” he says, poking your cheek gently.

You tilt your head. “If not the hallway, what was it?”

“The first day I came here, sweets,” he says, his fingers brushing a lock of your hair from your face.

Your mind races, wondering if you’ve forgotten an important memory. “But we didn’t meet, did we?”

Joshua hums, the kind of hum that carries a story behind it. “I guess you didn’t see me, but I saw you.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “When?”

He leans back slightly, eyes distant as if replaying the scene in his head. “I remember being bombarded by all the office workers. God, it was so chaotic. I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out, so I said some BS excuse about needing a drink.” He chuckles softly, then his expression shifts, softer now. “I went to the drink station by the window, grabbed whatever they had, and just stared out. I was wondering how long I could hide before it was socially acceptable to go home, when I saw you.”

You shift, intrigued by his words.

“You sat outside on the bench. You weren’t even aware of the crowd inside, just focused on,” he pauses, thinking of the right word, before continuing, “Existing? Listening to something, I guess. I watched you for a while. You were so still, so peaceful in the middle of all that noise. It made me stop and think. I’ve never really done that before. I’ve always been in ‘go, go, go’ mode. But there you were, just being, and I don’t know. I think that’s when I started thinking about you.”

His words settle over you like a blanket, warm and unexpected.

“I decided then to keep giving you coffee after that,” Joshua adds with a shrug. “You’re my elevator to my small enlightenment, if you will. You made me slow down, sweets.”

At that, your heart flutters in your chest. “I never knew,” you murmur. “I thought you were just nice to everyone. All this time, you’ve been looking at me like I’ve been looking at you.”

Joshua smiles softly, his fingers brushing against yours. “I’ve been thinking about you for a lot longer than you’ve been thinking of me.”

“Only a week!” you protest. 

Joshua’s eyes shine as he looks at you, crinkling into crescents. His hands steadily clasp yours, thumb rubbing against the back of your left hand. “Still think I’m too nice?”

“No,” you say, burying your face in his chest. “Keep being nice to me.”

When the elevator finally dings, and you can hear firefighters shouting things past the doors, it’s a few minutes past 12am. But neither of you moves, content in making up for lost time late into the night. 

Masterlist

Author's Note: yes they were stuck in an elevator for like 7 hours from thurs after work to midnight, 내 마음이야

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc's!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone

[cheolism-archive]

an ode to hands and voice

✰ — boo seungkwan x reader ✷ — summary: a moment of seungkwan fucking you, inspired by his hands and voice. ✰ — wc is approx. 1.3k ✷ — genre: smut, established relationship ✰ — warnings: soft sex, intimate sex. boo seungkwan hand porn. unprotected sex, cumming inside. ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: requested by @strxwberry-skiess !! i hope you enjoy and i hope i did your request justice! this is a part of my follower celebration. also tagging fellow seungkwan enthusiast @haologram

"deep breath in."

you inhale, breath shaking against the stillness of the room.

"and out."

you exhale, body relaxing. as your body decompresses, sagging back against the bed, seungkwan pushes in.

you actively try not to tense back up as his dick pushes into your cunt. despite him having prepared you, having spent what felt like ages fucking his fingers in and out, in and out, you can still feel the slight burn of your pussy stretching around his cock. your toes curl and you can't help but twist your fingers into the sheets, biting down on your lip.

seungkwan lets out a shuttering gasp, his grip on the sheets on either side of your head tightening. he hangs his head as he stills his hips, his nose pressing against the curve of your cheek.

"gotta relax, baby," he says, voice deep and raspy. when seungkwan came home from practice his voice was already a little fucked. he got halfway through a cup of tea topped with honey before you, needy and pathetic in that too-cute way, stumbled into his arms.

and fuck, if you weren't cute and pathetic right not beneath him.

"you gotta let my cock in," seungkwan cooed, pressing a quick kiss to your jaw. "gotta relax your pussy, baby."

you nod, turning and pressing your face against his. you tried to mold yourself back into the bed; tried to make yourself present. the warmth of seungkwan's body was flooding into you, trapped between him and the blanket beneath you. the mattress was soft and plush, because life was full of denials but seungkwan would be damned if he denied himself a cloud-like bed to fall into every night.

you relaxed back into the bed.

seungkwan could feel your cunt loosen around him. no longer did your pussy have a tight grip on him, the sort that he was greatly reluctant to try and press against. he never wanted to hurt you; never wanted this to hurt.

and so, with your cunt relaxed around him, seungkwan continues to push in.

you arch up against seungkwan as he fucks into you, breasts pressing against him. he slips his hand down to one of your thighs, and then moves your thigh up, giving him more room to settle between your legs. your knee knocks against his side.

"keep spreading," seungkwan says. he settles against you, cock fully sheathed, pelvis pressed against your thighs. "let me move."

"don't," you gasp out. your pussy clamps down on his cock, and seungkwan can't help the throaty groan that escapes him.

"won't," he says, dropping his face to the crook of your neck. he breathes against your skin, inhaling your scent. "won't move 'til you say it's good."

you move one of your hands to his shoulder, fingertips pressing into his flesh.

"feels big," you say, voice breaking.

"feels," seungkwan echoes back. "you saying i'm not big?"

you roll your eyes at him, hand sliding up his shoulder. you settle your hand along his jaw. "you know what i mean."

seungkwan hums. he settles against you, relaxing into your body in turn. seungkwan takes a moment to admire you.

he moves his hand to your face. seungkwan trails his fingers, long and thin, along the soft curve of your cheek. his nails gently scrape along your skin, and seungkwan can't help but follow the path of his fingers. he slides his forefinger, lightly and slowly, to your chin.

seungkwan's touch is as light as a butterfly's kiss. it's the sort of loving, gentle touch that belongs only to that of a lover; of an admirer.

and how he admires you.

seungkwan trails his finger to your lips. he looks at the pale shade of his nail and compares it to the lovely hue of your lips. he watches as the plump flesh of your lips bends beneath the pressure of his finger, as your lips part, gently, in response.

seungkwan can't help but push his finger between your lips. your mouth is just as warm as your cunt, and just as he had slid his dick into your pussy he slides his finger into your mouth. your mouth is warm and wet and welcoming.

you take his finger eagerly, as if it were his cock into your cunt. he doesn't press his finger all the way in. instead he settles his finger along your tongue. his cock throbs as you suck at his finger, your lashes fluttering.

"fucking pretty," seungkwan murmurs. "you're so fucking pretty."

reluctantly, seungkwan removes his finger from your mouth. he trails his fingers down the column of your throat, watching. he continues to move his hand along your body, until his fingers are cradling the edge of your tit.

he can't help but follow the curve, his thumb gently swiping. impulsive, seungkwan goes to your nipple. he slides a finger on either side of your nipple, tugging softly.

your mouth opens in a sweet gasp.

"kwannie," you call out, arms wrapping around his shoulders. you shift beneath him, moving so your legs are wrapped around him.

seungkwan tugs at your nipple again. "ready?"

you nod.

seungkwan begins to pull from your pussy. he moves slowly, cock sweetly dragging against your walls. the slide is easy due to how wet you are, and he adores how your cunt flutters around his dick.

once the head of his dick is at your entrance seungkwan rolls his hips towards you. the movement is fluid, a smooth rock back into your pussy. he rolls his hips as he fucks you, the motion constant.

he's addicted to the way your pussy grips him, how smooth the slide is. seungkwan's hand grips at your tit, nails digging in slightly, lost in the velvet feel of your cunt.

"feels good," he gasps out. he can feel the rasp of his voice, can feel the dryness of his throat. "feels so fucking good, sweetheart."

your body responds so beautifully to him. your body arches up into him, your legs tighten around him in an effort to keep him close. your mouth is open in a constant moan, eyes squeezing shut.

seungkwan can feel his balls tightening, his dick throbbing. he wants to cum in your pussy so bad, wants to fill you up so much.

he can't help but let his thrusts carry away. seungkwan begins to fuck you earnestly. the slap of his thrusts are loud, sharp and stinging. he wants to cum, wants to see his cum spilling fro your cute pussy —

your legs begin to weaken around him, falling to the side. seungkwan moves his hand from your tit. he loops his arms underneath your legs, hooking your legs up over his arms.

he fucks and thrusts and feels his heavy balls tighten against him. you feel so fucking good; you look gorgeous; you sound divine.

you moan out his name, broken and high.

seungkwan feels his balls clench once more, and then he's spilling inside of you. it's like a string pulled taut has been cut. he keeps fucking you as he cums, relentlessly with one goal in mind.

even once he stops cumming he doesn't pull out. seungkwan lets his dick soften in your pussy. he moves his hand down to your cunt, releasing one of your legs. two of his fingers find your clit easily. seungkwan begins to rub at your clit, cunt drenched from your juices and his cum.

"you gotta cum," he says, voice hoarse. he frames your clit with his fingers, rubbing at the sensitive area around it. your pussy continues to clench down around his spent dick, and he has half a mind to pull out, the sensation bordering on too much, but fuck —

you cum with a loud cry, lips curling and torso arching off of the bed. seungkwan groans in response and lays his body on yours, keeping you caught between him and the bed as he continues to rub at your clit, pushing you through orgasm.

"that's it," he moans, throat sore from misuse, "cum for me, baby. cum."

[hannieehaee]

can u write something about seungkwan having a s/o with the same personality/vibe as vernon? like one day he would just show up showing his new partner to introduce to the members and they would be like ? this is another version of vernon lol it would be so funny 😭😭

content: bf!seungkwan, established relationship, jeonghan being annoying, other members are present, fluff, etc.

wc: 617

a/n: lol i think seungkwan would totally date someone similar to vernon. their dynamic would eat

masterlist

"i didn't realize your type was vernon."

"what are you talking about?", seungkwan tilted his head in curiosity, furrowing his eyebrows.

jeonghan pointed over at you and a few of the other members, conversing in the distance, "i'm talking about that," he said as if it were the most obvious thing.

"i'm still not getting it."

"that's literally vernon. their style, their deadpan attitude, their voice. they even have the same elitist taste in music and movies. dude, you're dating vernon," he was needlessly exasperated as he listed off his evidence.

"w-wha- that's not true!", seungkwan instantly entered a defensive mode, "sure, vernon's cute, but they're nothing alike. you're crazy."

"just wait til vernon gets here and you'll see. world's gonna explode when they meet."

~

today was the first day seungkwan had ever introduced you to his members. most were currently in the practice room, so you had quickly been able to meet the present ones and engage in conversation. much to seungkwan's contentment, you fit in with the guys perfectly. from the moment you walked in, you managed to assimilate to them seamlessly, almost as if you were part of the group.

come to think of it, it was slightly unnerving how well you fit. jeonghan's words made more and more sense the more he watched you interact with his members. you were kind of like vernon, especially from afar. your dynamic with each of his members seemed pretty similar to that of vernon's, and even your mannerisms unknowingly replicated his. hell, your style was even pretty much the same!

seungkwan could've spent hours mindlessly analyzing the scene in front of him uninterrupted, but suddenly your twin turned up.

seungkwan was snapped out of his trance by a passing pat on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly as he looked to his side to notice vernon passing by him with a quiet 'sup' before continuing to walk in the direction where you were conversing with the rest of the members.

quietly, seungkwan followed, with jeonghan trailing behind him with a chuckle.

"oh, hey," vernon nodded towards you in the nonchalant way he usually did, "you must be kwannie's partner," he offered you a light smile.

you responded with a similarly nonchalant greeting, shaking hands with vernon casually.

"hey. you're vernon, right? kwannie talks about you all the time," you gave him a closed-smile that almost mirrored his own.

"yah! that's not true!", whined kwan.

"dude he won't shut up about you," vernon joined in as he chuckled at his friend's dramatics.

suddenly you and vernon started a conversation completely aside from seungkwan. all the poor boy could do was stand there and watch, equal parts amused and surprised at seeing two people so similar.

jeonghan stood next to him as he watched, though he was more entertained than anything, occasionally chuckling at you and vernon jinxing each other by saying eerily similar things, or even reacting to one another in the exact same way.

"do you think the world will combust if they touch?", murmured seokmin who had just joined in on watching the spectacle.

seungkwan simply grumbled, continuing to attempt to join the conversation despite having no idea of what movie you and vernon were currently discussing.

by the end of it, you and vernon had exchanged contacts, with you providing seungkwan with a hug and a kiss before making your way out.

before seungkwan could say anything, vernon came up to him with yet another pat on his shoulder.

"hey, i like your partner. they're a keeper," he said without nothing the snickers leaving his other members, nor seungkwan's agape mouth at what he'd just witnessed.

hell. maybe he did have a type.

[imonanotherlebel]

Seventeen Members React to Their Partner Initiating Sex at an Unusual Time

----------------------

Warnings: nsfw, Minors DNI

----------------------

S.Coups

Seungcheol would be caught off guard but immediately turned on. If you try to get frisky during a serious moment, like in the middle of a meeting or while he’s working, he’d give you a stern look, but it wouldn’t last long. The second you start teasing him, he’d smirk and say something like, "You really can’t wait, can you?" He loooves the bratty side of you, and he loves to play into it. He’d take a moment to find a way to get you both alone, where he’d make sure to reward you for your boldness. He will NOT be soft.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan would love the thrill of it. If you start touching him during a movie or try to get handsy when you’re out somewhere, he’d play along with a mischievous smile. "You’re really in the mood now?" he’d tease, clearly enjoying the situation. He’d take his time, dragging out the moment just to see how desperate you can get before finally pulling you somewhere private to finish what you started.

Joshua

Joshua would be a bit surprised at first but secretly thrilled. If you initiate in a situation like during a meeting or when you’re supposed to be focusing on something else, he’d blush slightly and try to keep his composure. But your persistence would get to him, and soon enough, he’d give in, finding a way to slip away with you. "You’re going to get us in trouble," he’d whisper, but the excitement in his voice would betray him as he pulls you close.

Jun

Jun would be all for it. He’s always up for a little spontaneity, so if you start making moves in an unexpected place, like in the middle of a dinner or while out with friends, he’d get excited right away. "You’re so bad," he’d whisper, grinning as he starts playing along. He’d find a way to make it happen, taking you somewhere more private and making sure you both enjoy the thrill of the moment.

Hoshi

Hoshi would be surprised but very excited. If you start teasing him during something like a practice session or while you’re supposed to be watching a show, he’d try to focus but quickly give in to the temptation. "You really want to do this now?" he’d ask, his voice filled with excitement. He’d sneak you away as soon as he could, loving the rush of doing something so risky. He loves to match your freak.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo might seem reserved, but the idea of you initiating at an unusual time would awaken something in him. If you try to distract him during a quiet moment, like while he’s reading or working, he’d be surprised but intrigued. He’d put down whatever he was doing, giving you a look that says you’re in for it now. He’d take his time getting you alone, loving the idea of giving in to your desires when you least expect it. He would try to show you that he disapproves of it, but will take control and fuck you senseless either way. "Tsk, you really are a bad girl y/n"

Woozi

Woozi would be caught off guard, especially if you start teasing him while he’s in the studio or focused on his work. He’d give you a look that’s part amusement, part disbelief. "You’re really going to try that now?" he’d ask, but he wouldn’t be able to resist for long. Once you have his attention, he’d find a way to wrap things up quickly so he can give you his full focus, making sure the wait was worth it.

DK

DK would be surprised but definitely excited. If you start touching him during something like a concert or when you’re out in public, he’d get flustered but wouldn’t want to stop you. "Are you serious right now?" he’d ask with a laugh, but the excitement in his eyes would be clear. He’d try to keep it together until he could get you alone, where he’d let all that built-up tension out.

Mingyu

Mingyu would be instantly turned on. If you start making moves during an unexpected moment, like in the middle of a social event, he’d smirk and play along immediately. "You just can’t wait, can you?" he’d whisper in your ear, running a finger down your back, tracing your spine, loving the thrill of it. His breath on your skin sending shivers down your spine. It would turn a switch on him, making him dominant instantly. He’d find a way to sneak away with you, where he’d be more than ready to satisfy your sudden urges. But be careful. He does not stop with one round.

The8

The8 would be calm on the surface but secretly very into it. If you initiate in a moment that catches him off guard, like during a dinner, he’d give you a look that says he’s intrigued. He wouldn’t rush it, though. He’d enjoy the anticipation, dragging out the moment until you’re practically begging for more. "You're needy for me, baby? Beg for it," he'd whisper in your ear as he slid his hand between your thighs. Then he’d take you somewhere private and make sure it was worth the wait.

Seungkwan

Seungkwan would be flustered but excited. If you start teasing him during an unexpected time, like during a serious conversation or while out with friends, he’d blush and try to keep it together. "Are you crazy?" he’d whisper, but the excitement would be clear in his voice. He’d try to find a way to sneak away with you, where he’d let go and fully indulge in the moment, making sure you both enjoy the thrill.

Vernon

Vernon would be surprised but quickly catch on to the idea. If you start making a move in a quiet moment, like while watching a movie or during a low-key hangout with friends, he’d smirk and play it cool. "You’re really trying to start something now?" he’d ask, clearly intrigued. He’d go along with it, finding a way to slip away with you so you can continue without any interruptions.

Dino

Dino would be a mix of surprise and excitement. If you initiate during an unexpected time, like in the middle of a game or while you’re supposed to be doing something else, he’d be a bit flustered but very into it. "You’re really in the mood now?" he’d ask with a grin, already thinking of how to make it happen. He’d find a way to sneak off with you, eager to do all things imaginable.

[itssunshinetoday]

★Videocall with your long-distance boyfriend, Wonwoo

[prettygirl-gabi]

Partners-In-Crime

---

---

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: angst (like very substantial amount), fluff, happy ending

Category:F/M

Fandom: Seventeen (SVT), boyband

Relationships: !idol Mingyu x !idol f reader

Summary: In a whirlwind of fake dating to avoid breached contract lawsuit, Mingyu and Y/n navigate growing feelings, blurring lines between pretend and real.

Trope: Fake dating

---

Hiiiii everyone who is reading! Welcome to the ninth installment of my new mini series called "Oi! Not this again!" They do not have to be read together or in order! I hope you all enjoy!

I never really thought I’d find myself in this situation: fake dating one of the hottest idols in South Korea. Yet, here I am, sipping an iced caramel macchiato in a corner cafe, pretending that being next to Mingyu from SEVENTEEN is the most natural thing in the world. In reality, my heart is racing, and not in the good way.

“Y/N, could you, like, pretend to be happy?” Mingyu whispers through a tight smile, his voice barely audible over the ambient music and chatty customers. His dark eyes flicker with a mix of annoyance and desperation.

“I am happy,” I snap quietly, struggling to adjust the fake smile plastered on my face. “Well, as happy as I can be, considering I’m fake dating you.”

A little louder than intended, I notice a few heads turn our way. I can feel the pressure mounting. We’re supposed to be the doting couple everyone envies, yet the tension between us is thicker than the whipped cream on my drink.

His fingers drum impatiently on the table, the dull thud echoing my pounding heart. “This was your idea, remember? To throw off the media frenzy surrounding both of us.”

Sure, using the classic “fake dating” trope to divert media attention seemed brilliant in theory. We both had enough scandals and rumors hovering around us to last a lifetime. Pairing up would squash at least half of them.

Mingyu suddenly leans in, looking intently at the menu stuck between the salt and pepper shakers, but I know he isn’t paying attention to the array of overpriced sandwiches. “Y/N, if we don’t pull this off, Dispatch is going to have a field day. Again.”

I sigh, slumping back in my chair. “I know, I get it. But couldn’t we have found another way?”

He opens his mouth to argue but instead, a genuine laugh escapes his lips. “Like what? Publicly announce we’re focusing on our careers and ask for privacy?” The sarcasm in his voice isn’t lost on me.

“Okay, fair point.” I roll my eyes but can’t help a small smile. “So what’s the plan now, Mr. Perfect?”

His grip tightens on the table edge before he looks up with a smirk. “We’ve got a photoshoot tomorrow morning for a ‘couple’ branding campaign. We just need to act like we’re head-over-heels for each other, got it?”

I groan inwardly. Nothing like forced intimacy to kickstart a beautiful, fake relationship. “This is going to be a disaster.”

“Only if you make it one,” he teases, his smirk widening. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms smugly. “Or maybe you’re just afraid you’ll actually fall for my irresistible charm?”

I snort. “Keep dreaming, pretty boy.”

==

The next morning arrives faster than I’d like. The cosmetics studio is buzzing with activity. Staff members rush around, juggling makeup palettes and camera equipment, their energy palpable.

“Y/N! Mingyu! Over here!” the director waves us over to a pristine white set, where we’re expected to coo and swoon

“Showtime,” Mingyu whispers in my ear. His peppermint breath sends an involuntary shiver down my spine. This fake boyfriend thing is harder than it looks.

I force a smile, slipping my fingers through his as we pose for the cameras. Each flash feels like a dagger, reminding me this isn’t real. But for the sake of our careers, we plaster on the affection.

“Y/N, could you look at Mingyu like he’s the best thing that ever happened to you?” the photographer instructs, eyes focused behind the lens.

Like he’s the best thing that ever happened to me? Easy. I turn, my gaze softening as if on cue. As much as Mingyu frustrates me, he’s also been my confidant and partner-in-crime through this chaotic idol life. Maybe this won’t be so hard after all.

Mingyu meets my eyes, his expression unexpectedly tender. The lines of his face soften, making the acting feel less like an act.

We’re mid-pose when Mingyu decides to speak. “You know, you’re not as bad at this as I thought you’d be,” he says, his voice just loud enough for me to hear.

I raise an eyebrow, still maintaining my “loving” gaze for the photographer. "What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Just that maybe we should fake date more often. You’re adorable when you’re pretending.”

I falter, the smile slipping slightly. “Watch it, Mingyu.”

==

The hours pass and the shoot finally wraps. We receive a round of applause for our “chemistry,” and Mingyu pulls me into a side hug, his hand resting on my shoulder. Pretending becomes so much easier with each click of the camera.

“Good job today,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with genuine warmth.

For a moment, I almost forget we’re pretending. Almost.

“We pulled it off, didn’t we?” I muse, pressing my temple against his arm briefly before pulling away.

“Yeah,” he admits, his eyes locking onto mine. “We make a pretty good team, Y/N.”

Something in his gaze makes my heart stutter. It feels like he’s trying to say more, like he’s testing unfamiliar waters.

“Yeah, well don’t get used to it. This is still a temporary arrangement.” I remind myself more than him, with a fleeting half-smile.

==

Weeks roll by, and the line between fiction and reality starts to blur. Mingyu and I are inseparable, seen at award shows, interviews, seen leaving our "shared" house, and even the occasional late-night ramen shop. The media loves us. Fans dub us “the power couple of the decade.”

One evening, as we rehearse a choreographed routine for an upcoming awards show performance, the tension boils over. Mingyu’s patience breaks first.

“Y/N, you’re a step behind!” he snaps, frustration evident as he stops mid-spin. “We’ve done this a thousand times, what’s going on with you?”

Anger flares in my chest. “I’m sorry if I'm not perfect like you, okay?”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “It’s not about being perfect, it’s about working together!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” I shout back, breathless. “This whole thing...it's draining, Mingyu. Maybe fake dating wasn't the best idea after all. Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” he challenges, stepping closer. “Maybe we should just end it? Announce it was all a prank?”

The space between us crackles with unspoken words, and I take a small step back, my chest heaving. “Maybe.”

His eyes search mine, the anger simmering into something else entirely—something raw and real. “And what if I don’t want it to end?”

Time stands still as his words hang in the air. The intensity in his gaze makes my heart race for an entirely different reason.

“What exactly are you saying?” I finally ask, needing clarity even if it feels terrifying.

He takes a deep breath, before lifting my head with his thumb on my chin and two under. “I’m saying...I don’t think this was ever just fake for me. And I don’t want it to be.”

My breath catches. Neither of us moves. The air feels charged and heavy with possibility.

“Me neither,” I admit, my voice barely a whisper, finally understanding the depth of my feelings.

A slow, almost relieved smile spreads across his face, and he reaches for my hand, linking our fingers together much like the first time we “acted” in love. Only now, it feels unforced, genuine.

The journey to real from fake has been messy, fraught with disagreements and tension, but standing here, looking into his eyes, I realize it was worth every moment.

“Looks like we’ve got a new script to follow,” Mingyu murmurs, his thumb caressing the back of my hand.

I smile, leaning into the comforting warmth of his presence. “Yeah, and this time, we don’t have to pretend.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

‐Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-Gabi✨️🎀

[pinkmoontaco]

It all started at a survival show||Boo Seungkwan Pt. 1

Pairing: Idol Seungkwan X Idol Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance Summary: Y/n, a reserved and confident idol, meets Seungkwan, SEVENTEEN's lively vocalist, on a survival show. Initially rivals, their playful competition evolves into mutual respect and a budding connection as they navigate challenges together. Despite their contrasting personalities, Seungkwan’s warmth and unintentional care for Y/n soften her aloofness, and their chemistry becomes undeniable. Author's Note: Hi everyone! I’ve been away for a while because of my exams, but now that they’re finally over, I’m back with a brand-new story for you all. I’m so excited to share it and I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it. Please give it lots of love and support! Don’t forget to leave your thoughts and comments—they mean so much to me and help me improve. Your feedback and encouragement keep me motivated to keep writing. Thank you for being patient and sticking with me. Love you guys. And also feel free to make any request for any other members or other groups Pt.1 _ Pt.2

The bright studio lights flooded the room, reflecting off the polished floor and amplifying the excitement in the air. Rows of contestants sat in anticipation, their expressions a mix of nervousness and determination. The audience’s buzz filled the space, but it was the booming voice of the host that commanded attention.

“Welcome to Idol Championship: The Ultimate Showdown!” he declared, his energy palpable. “This is where the best idols battle it out in singing, dancing, and acting challenges to prove who truly reigns supreme!”

Seungkwan, seated comfortably among the contestants, couldn’t help but flash his signature grin. Confidence radiated from him as he leaned back slightly in his chair. He’d been through countless stages, grueling schedules, and high-pressure performances as SEVENTEEN’s powerhouse vocalist. This survival show? It was just another stage to conquer.

Until she walked in.

The studio doors opened, and Y/n stepped inside, the click of her heels punctuating the room’s sudden hush. Heads turned as her presence swept through the space. Dressed impeccably and exuding an air of effortless confidence, she moved as if the competition was already hers. Y/n, the soloist known for her flawless performances and laser-focused demeanor, was not one to be trifled with.

Seungkwan watched her with raised brows. Her reputation had preceded her: a perfectionist, fiercely competitive, and someone who left no room for mediocrity. As she took her seat, her gaze remained locked on the stage ahead, not even sparing a glance for her competitors.

Leaning toward a fellow contestant, Seungkwan whispered with a cheeky grin, “Guess we’re all playing for second place now.”

The group around him chuckled nervously, their laughter dying quickly as Y/n’s sharp eyes flicked toward him. She didn’t say a word but raised a single eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and challenge. The silent acknowledgment sent a clear message: Game on.

The host interrupted the tension, his voice cutting through the room. “Let’s dive right into the first challenge! A vocal duel to kick things off.” The announcement was met with a ripple of excitement and murmurs among the contestants.

As names were drawn, Seungkwan sat back with feigned indifference. But when his name was called, his smirk widened. He stood, giving an exaggerated bow to the audience, earning a mix of cheers and laughter.

“And his opponent…” The host paused for dramatic effect. “Y/n!”

The room seemed to collectively hold its breath as Y/n rose gracefully from her seat. Her calm expression didn’t waver, but the subtle shift in her posture spoke volumes. She was ready.

Seungkwan’s grin faltered for half a second before he leaned toward the contestant next to him. “Of course, it’s me,” he muttered with mock despair, earning a few chuckles. “Why wouldn’t it be me?”

Y/n made her way to the stage with the poise of someone who belonged there. Seungkwan followed, his usual bravado intact but his mind racing.

This was no ordinary competition. This was the beginning of something much bigger.

The stage was set, and the air was electric. Seungkwan and Y/n stood at opposite ends of the platform, their contrasting energies palpable. Seungkwan radiated confidence, his charming smile directed at the audience, while Y/n exuded an unshakable calm, her gaze fixed firmly ahead.

The host grinned, clearly relishing the tension. “For this vocal duel, our contestants will perform a classic ballad—Timeless. They’ll showcase their individual styles, and the judges will decide who captures the essence of the song best. Let’s give it up for Seungkwan and Y/n!”

The audience erupted into applause, and Seungkwan flashed his trademark grin. He turned to Y/n and offered a playful, mock bow. “Ladies first?” he quipped, earning a few chuckles from the crowd.

Y/n’s lips twitched into a faint smile, but her eyes stayed sharp. “Don’t worry, Boo. I’ll set the bar high for you.”

She stepped into the spotlight, the soft glow highlighting her poised figure. The opening notes of the ballad filled the studio, and as she began to sing, the room fell silent. Her voice was ethereal, perfectly controlled yet filled with emotion. Each note was deliberate, her delivery precise. She wasn’t just singing—she was telling a story, and everyone was captivated.

When the final note lingered in the air, the audience erupted into thunderous applause. Y/n gave a slight bow, her expression serene as she stepped back.

Seungkwan clapped along with the crowd, though his competitive spirit burned brighter. “Not bad,” he said, stepping forward. “Now let me show you how it’s really done.”

The music began again, and Seungkwan transformed. His voice carried raw emotion, drawing the audience in with every note. Where Y/n’s performance had been refined and polished, Seungkwan’s was dynamic and heartfelt. He poured his soul into the song, making each word resonate deeply.

By the time he finished, the audience was on their feet, cheering wildly. Seungkwan took an exaggerated bow, shooting Y/n a playful wink as he stepped back.

The judges deliberated, their faces serious as they whispered among themselves. Finally, the head judge stepped forward. “Both performances were exceptional,” he began. “Y/n’s technical precision and emotional depth were breathtaking, while Seungkwan’s heartfelt delivery brought a new dimension to the song. However, the winner of this round is… Y/n!”

Seungkwan’s jaw dropped, his expression exaggerated for effect. “Wait, what? Did we hear the same performance?” he exclaimed, earning laughter from the audience.

Y/n walked past him, her voice calm but laced with amusement. “Better luck next time, Boo.”

The audience roared with laughter as Seungkwan clutched his chest dramatically. “This isn’t over!” he called after her, his tone a mix of humor and determination.

The first clash had ended, but the rivalry was just beginning.

Backstage, Seungkwan was still nursing his defeat. He leaned against the snack table, nibbling on a rice cracker, his thoughts consumed by Y/n's flawless performance. The room was abuzz with chatter, contestants recounting their moments on stage, but his ears were tuned only to the faint sound of Y/n’s laugh from across the room.

“She’s good,” he muttered to himself. “Too good.”

“What’s that, Seungkwan?” a fellow contestant teased, sidling up to him. “Already feeling the pressure?”

Seungkwan scoffed, puffing out his chest. “Pressure? Please. This is just the warm-up round. I’m saving my best for later.” His words were confident, but his eyes betrayed the flicker of determination brewing within him. Losing to Y/n had ignited something he hadn’t felt in a while—a burning desire to prove himself.

On the other side of the room, Y/n was seated with her small circle of supporters, sipping tea and quietly listening to their chatter. She wasn’t one for gloating, but the faint smile tugging at her lips was enough to make her satisfaction known.

“Y/n, you were incredible out there,” one of the contestants said. “That high note? Unreal.”

Y/n nodded graciously. “Thank you. But it’s still early in the competition. There’s a lot more to come.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes flicked briefly toward Seungkwan, who was now animatedly recounting his “strategic loss” to another contestant.

The next day, the contestants gathered again in the brightly lit studio for the announcement of the second challenge. The host stood at the center of the stage, holding a gleaming envelope.

“Contestants, it’s time to reveal your next test. This challenge will push you out of your comfort zones and test your adaptability.” The crowd murmured in anticipation. “For this round, you’ll be performing duets! And the pairs have been carefully chosen by our producers.”

Seungkwan’s heart sank. The word “duet” sent a wave of unease through the room. Collaboration was not always easy, especially in a competitive setting.

The host began reading the pairings, and with each announcement, the tension grew. Finally, the words that would define the next chapter of the competition rang out:

“Y/n and Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan’s jaw dropped for the second time in as many days. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath.

Y/n, meanwhile, remained as composed as ever, though a faint glimmer of surprise crossed her face. She met Seungkwan’s wide-eyed stare with a raised eyebrow.

“This should be… interesting,” she said, her tone measured.

“Interesting? That’s one way to put it,” Seungkwan shot back, attempting to mask his nervousness with humor. He extended a hand to her, his grin disarmingly boyish. “Let’s try not to kill each other, yeah?”

Y/n regarded his hand for a moment before taking it briefly. “We’ll see.”

The host clapped his hands together, bringing the room’s focus back. “For your duet, you’ll perform a reimagined version of Eclipse, a song known for its contrasting vocal styles and emotional depth. You’ll need to showcase both harmony and individuality. Good luck!”

As the contestants dispersed to begin rehearsals, Seungkwan and Y/n were left standing awkwardly together.

“So,” Seungkwan began, scratching the back of his neck, “how do you feel about this song?”

“It’s a challenge,” Y/n replied, her tone neutral. “But I think we can make it work.”

Seungkwan tilted his head. “You think we can make it work? Wow, I feel honored.”

Y/n shot him a sharp look but couldn’t hide the ghost of a smile. “Don’t get used to it.”

Their banter continued as they made their way to the rehearsal room, where the true test of their partnership awaited. The rivalry that had sparked on stage was now forced to evolve into something more cooperative—or combust entirely.

Rehearsals began early the next morning, and Seungkwan and Y/n found themselves locked in a small, soundproofed room, facing each other across a grand piano. The air was thick with anticipation, both of them unwilling to acknowledge the unspoken tension that lingered between them after their first showdown.

Seungkwan, ever the optimist, took a seat at the piano. He flashed Y/n a wide grin. “Alright, let’s make this duet the best thing this show’s ever seen. How about you take the high parts, and I’ll handle the fun ones?”

Y/n’s lips quirked upward for the briefest of moments, but she didn’t respond immediately. She studied him for a moment before speaking, her tone calm but pointed. “Seungkwan, this isn’t about playing to our strengths. It’s about balancing the song and complementing each other. That’s what the judges will look for.”

Seungkwan chuckled, the slight sting in her words not lost on him. “Got it. No more ‘fun’ parts. I’ll be the serious, refined Seungkwan from now on. Promise.”

Y/n’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second. She nodded. “Good. Let’s get to work.”

The first few minutes of rehearsal were anything but smooth. They each took turns singing their parts of Eclipse, but the two voices clashed rather than harmonized. Seungkwan’s bold, free-spirited delivery contrasted sharply with Y/n’s controlled, composed tone. It was clear that neither of them was quite sure how to adjust to the other’s style.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous,” Seungkwan muttered after several attempts to sync up their voices. He rubbed his temple, exasperated. “We’re never going to make this work if we keep fighting the music like this.”

Y/n tilted her head, her expression contemplative. “I agree. Maybe we need to focus on blending, rather than competing for the spotlight.”

Seungkwan shot her a sideways glance. “So, you’re saying I should tone down my charisma?”

Y/n didn’t flinch. “Not entirely. But you need to find the balance between emotion and technique. If you let the song guide you rather than forcing your style into it, we might just make it through.”

Seungkwan sighed dramatically, though he was beginning to see her point. “You’re really serious about this, huh?”

Y/n’s gaze softened, but there was no mistaking the steely focus in her eyes. “I don’t want to just win. I want us both to shine.”

There was something in her words that caused a shift within Seungkwan. He looked at her not just as a competitor now but as a collaborator—someone who could actually help him be better, even if it wasn’t always easy to admit. The realization left him a bit disoriented, but it also sparked a renewed determination.

“Alright,” he said, cracking his knuckles for emphasis. “Let’s do this your way. Show me how it’s done, Y/n.”

She nodded, accepting his challenge without hesitation. They started over, this time with a new sense of focus. Y/n’s voice guided the pace, and Seungkwan began to soften his approach, matching her precision while still keeping his own vibrancy intact.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.

As the days passed, the tension between them slowly began to ease. Their rehearsals were no longer just about competing; they were about learning from each other. Seungkwan was amazed at Y/n’s ability to remain calm under pressure, her voice effortlessly gliding through complex runs. Meanwhile, Y/n found herself quietly impressed by Seungkwan’s emotional depth. Where she had once seen him as too flamboyant, she now recognized the sincerity beneath his playful exterior.

One afternoon, as they took a break from rehearsing, Seungkwan sat on the floor, sipping water and tossing a small ball up and down. Y/n, perched on the piano bench, absentmindedly hummed a few notes of Eclipse, clearly lost in thought.

Seungkwan glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “You know, for someone who never seems to let her guard down, you hum a lot.”

Y/n didn’t look at him but simply shrugged, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “It’s a way to center myself. Keeps my focus sharp.”

“Interesting,” Seungkwan mused, his gaze softening. He paused before continuing, the playful tone gone from his voice. “You don’t ever get nervous, do you? You just seem… unshakable.”

Y/n stopped humming and finally turned to face him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s because I’ve had to be. People expect a lot from me, and I can’t afford to show weakness. Not when it matters.”

Seungkwan tilted his head, intrigued. “You know, you’re not as cold as you seem. You’ve got layers, Y/n.”

She met his gaze for a long moment, then stood up, brushing off her pants. “Maybe. But I’m here to win this competition, not make friends.”

Seungkwan stood as well, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. You might end up liking me more than you think.”

Y/n shot him a quick glance before turning back to the piano. “We’ll see about that.”

Despite her words, there was a subtle warmth in her expression, the faintest flicker of a smile. Seungkwan noticed it, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he leaned against the wall, watching her with a newfound appreciation.

The rivalry that had started with sharp words and pointed glances had begun to shift into something more complicated. Trust was being built, and while neither of them would admit it out loud, they were starting to rely on each other in ways neither had expected.

As the final days of rehearsals approached, they were no longer just competitors—they were partners. And with every note they sang together, the bond between them grew stronger, setting the stage for what was to come next.

With their duet victory still fresh, the producers decided to lighten the mood by introducing a bonding activity for the contestants: a variety of fun, team-based games.

The stage was transformed into a playful arena with colorful props, oversized cushions, and a giant wheel of fortune to decide the challenges. The contestants, now divided into pairs from the duet round, were informed that the games wouldn’t affect the competition rankings. Instead, it was an opportunity to relax and build camaraderie.

Seungkwan, ever the social butterfly, was already buzzing with excitement. “Games? Oh, this is my specialty!” he declared, clapping his hands.

Y/n, on the other hand, looked less than thrilled. She crossed her arms, eyeing the obstacle course skeptically. “I don’t see how this is supposed to help us bond,” she muttered under her breath.

Seungkwan leaned closer, his grin infectious. “Come on, Y/n. Where’s your competitive spirit? This is going to be fun!”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t completely suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “Fine, Boo. But if we lose, it’s on you.”

The first challenge was a classic: tug of war. Each pair had to work together to pull a rope against another team. Seungkwan and Y/n were up against a duo known for their strength, but Seungkwan was undeterred.

As they took their positions, Y/n glanced at him. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“Are you doubting me?” Seungkwan feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “I’ll have you know I’m stronger than I look!”

Y/n smirked. “Alright, show me what you’ve got.”

The whistle blew, and the game began. Seungkwan dug his heels in, pulling with all his might. Y/n matched his effort, her expression one of fierce determination. They moved in perfect sync, their teamwork surprising even themselves.

With one final pull, they sent the opposing team stumbling forward, securing their victory.

Seungkwan whooped, throwing his hands in the air. “I told you we’d win!”

Y/n, breathless but smiling, nodded. “Not bad, Boo. Not bad.”

The next game was a balance relay, where contestants had to carry a water-filled bowl across a wobbly beam without spilling it.

As Y/n prepared to go first, Seungkwan noticed her hesitating. “Nervous?” he teased gently.

She sighed, adjusting her grip on the bowl. “It’s not exactly my strong suit.”

“Don’t worry,” Seungkwan said, his tone softer now. “Take it slow. I’ll catch you if you fall.”

Y/n shot him a glance, her cheeks warming despite herself. “I won’t fall.”

But as she stepped onto the beam, the wobbling made her falter. True to his word, Seungkwan was immediately by her side, steadying her with a firm hand on her arm.

“You’re doing great,” he said, his voice calm and encouraging.

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his closeness, and she quickly looked away. “Thanks,” she mumbled, focusing on the task.

With his support, she made it across the beam without spilling a drop.

The last game was a music trivia challenge where one partner had to hum a tune while the other guessed the song.

“Alright, Y/n,” Seungkwan said, bouncing on his heels. “I’m a music genius, so this should be easy.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

She hummed the opening notes of Very Nice, one of SEVENTEEN’s iconic songs. Seungkwan instantly lit up. “Oh, come on! You didn’t even try to make it hard. It’s Very Nice! Next!”

Y/n smirked, her competitive side kicking in. She hummed a more obscure ballad, and Seungkwan scratched his head, mumbling the melody to himself before snapping his fingers. “Beautiful Goodbye! Got it!”

As the game progressed, they found themselves laughing more and more, their banter light and natural. Y/n even caught herself smiling at his exaggerated frustration when he got a song wrong.

After the games, the contestants gathered for a brief break. Y/n, tired from the activities, leaned against a wall, closing her eyes for a moment.

Seungkwan appeared beside her, holding out a bottle of water. “You look like you could use this,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

Y/n opened her eyes, blinking in surprise. “Oh… thanks.” She accepted the bottle, their fingers brushing briefly.

“You okay?” Seungkwan asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine,” Y/n replied, though her voice was quieter than usual.

“Here.” Seungkwan grabbed a chair and placed it beside her. “Sit for a bit. You’ve been working hard.”

Y/n hesitated but eventually sat down. She watched as Seungkwan rummaged through a nearby snack table, returning with a small pack of crackers. “Eat something. You’ll feel better.”

Y/n couldn’t help the flutter in her chest as she took the crackers from him. “You don’t have to fuss over me, you know.”

Seungkwan shrugged, his smile easy. “What can I say? I’m a caring guy.”

For the first time, Y/n felt her carefully constructed walls begin to crack. She glanced at him, her heart betraying her calm exterior with an unfamiliar warmth.

“Thank you, Seungkwan,” she said softly, her voice carrying a sincerity that surprised even herself.

Seungkwan grinned, leaning back against the wall beside her. “Don’t mention it. Partners take care of each other, right?”

Y/n looked away, hiding the small smile that crept onto her lips. For the first time in a long while, she felt something she hadn’t expected—something dangerously close to butterflies.

The games had ended, but the playful energy lingered in the air as the contestants were given the rest of the evening to relax. Y/n found herself walking to the outdoor terrace, seeking a moment of solitude to gather her thoughts. The cool evening breeze brushed against her skin, and the city lights twinkled in the distance.

She took a deep breath, the events of the day playing back in her mind. Seungkwan’s unwavering support during the games, his care when he noticed her fatigue—it wasn’t something she was used to.

“Figured you’d be out here.”

Y/n turned to see Seungkwan leaning against the doorway, his trademark grin softening into something more genuine.

“Didn’t think anyone would find me,” Y/n said, turning back to the view.

“Well, I have a sixth sense for finding people who are trying to hide,” he teased, stepping closer.

Y/n chuckled softly, surprising herself. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the sounds of the city below filling the space.

“You were really good today,” Seungkwan said suddenly, his tone sincere.

Y/n glanced at him. “So were you. You’re always so… lively. It’s refreshing.”

Seungkwan laughed. “Lively? That’s one way to put it. Most people just call me loud.”

“Maybe,” Y/n admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. “But it works for you.”

Seungkwan looked at her, his usual humor replaced by something softer. “You know, you don’t have to keep your guard up all the time, Y/n.”

Her smile faltered, and she looked away. “I’m not…”

“You are,” Seungkwan interrupted gently. “And I get it. You’re used to being the best, to having to prove yourself over and over. But you don’t always have to be perfect. It’s okay to let people in sometimes.”

Y/n felt her chest tighten at his words. It wasn’t something she wanted to admit, but he wasn’t wrong. She had spent so much of her career striving for perfection that she had forgotten what it felt like to just… be.

She looked at him, her expression softer than before. “Why are you so nice to me, Boo?”

Seungkwan shrugged, his grin returning. “Maybe I just like a challenge. Or maybe I think there’s more to you than the icy perfection everyone sees.”

Y/n blinked, his words hitting closer to home than she expected. She shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here we are,” Seungkwan said, spreading his arms dramatically.

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, the sound light and unguarded.

Later that evening, the contestants gathered in the common area, where someone had set up a few board games. The atmosphere was casual and relaxed, a rare break from the intensity of the competition.

“Alright, who’s up for a game of Jenga?” one contestant called out.

Seungkwan immediately jumped up. “Count me in! Y/n, you too.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow from her seat. “Why me?”

“Because I want to see if you’re as precise with Jenga blocks as you are with choreography,” Seungkwan said with a mischievous grin.

Reluctantly, Y/n joined the group. The game began, and as expected, Seungkwan’s antics quickly became the highlight.

“Careful, careful!” he exclaimed dramatically as Y/n pulled out a block with steady hands.

“Stop distracting me,” Y/n said, trying to hide her smirk.

“Distract you? Me? Never!” Seungkwan replied, placing a hand over his heart in mock innocence.

Despite herself, Y/n found that she was genuinely enjoying the game. When it was Seungkwan’s turn, his exaggerated expressions and nervous commentary had everyone laughing.

But then, as he carefully placed a block on top of the precarious tower, it wobbled and came crashing down.

“No!” Seungkwan cried, throwing his hands up in defeat.

Y/n laughed, a sound that made Seungkwan pause for a moment. Her laughter was rare, and seeing her genuinely enjoying herself made his defeat feel like a win.

As the night wore on, Y/n found herself reaching for her water bottle, only to realize it was empty. Before she could get up, Seungkwan appeared beside her, handing her a fresh bottle.

“Here,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Y/n stared at him, surprised. “How did you…?”

“I noticed yours was empty,” he said with a shrug. “Figured you’d want another.”

It was such a small gesture, but it sent her heart fluttering in a way she hadn’t felt before.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her fingers brushing his as she took the bottle.

Seungkwan grinned. “What are partners for?”

Y/n looked at him, her walls crumbling a little more. For the first time, she wondered if this rivalry wasn’t just about competition anymore—maybe, just maybe, it was becoming something much more.

The next morning, rehearsals for the duet resumed, and Seungkwan and Y/n found themselves alone in the practice room. The producers had given them creative freedom to reimagine the song, and the stakes were higher than ever.

Y/n sat on the edge of the piano bench, scribbling notes in her lyric book, while Seungkwan lay sprawled on the floor, humming the melody softly.

“So,” Seungkwan said, propping himself up on his elbows, “are we going for heartbreakingly emotional or ‘I can’t believe they’re rivals’ chemistry?”

Y/n looked up from her notebook, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean by ‘chemistry’?”

Seungkwan grinned. “You know, that undeniable spark we bring to the stage. The kind that has the audience rooting for us, not just as performers but…” He paused dramatically, “as soulmates.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched into a smile. “Let’s focus on making the song good first, Boo.”

“Fine, fine,” Seungkwan said, sitting up and reaching for his notebook. “But don’t be surprised if we end up stealing the show.”

The hours passed in a blur as they worked on harmonizing their vocals and perfecting the song’s emotional tone. Y/n, as always, was meticulous, stopping mid-line to tweak a note or adjust the phrasing.

“You’re like a human metronome,” Seungkwan teased after Y/n made them restart the chorus for the fifth time.

“And you’re like a walking hurricane,” Y/n shot back, though there was no bite in her words.

When they finally ran through the song without stopping, the result was breathtaking. Their voices blended seamlessly, creating a sound that was both powerful and intimate.

Seungkwan stood back, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes. “We’re going to make the judges cry. I can feel it.”

Y/n chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Let’s just hope we don’t make them cry for the wrong reasons.”

Later that evening, Seungkwan noticed Y/n massaging her neck, her movements tense and stiff.

“You okay?” he asked, concern coloring his voice.

“It’s nothing,” Y/n replied, but her wince betrayed her.

“Come here,” Seungkwan said, motioning for her to sit down.

“What are you—”

“Just sit.”

Reluctantly, Y/n sat on the couch, and before she could protest, Seungkwan’s hands were on her shoulders, kneading the tension away.

“Seungkwan, what are you—”

“Shh,” he interrupted. “You’re always so focused on everything else. Let someone take care of you for a change.”

Y/n froze at his words, the warmth of his hands and the gentleness of his voice catching her off guard.

“There,” Seungkwan said after a few moments, stepping back with a satisfied smile. “Feeling better?”

Y/n turned to look at him, her expression unreadable. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly.

“I know,” Seungkwan replied, his grin softer this time. “But I wanted to.”

Y/n’s chest tightened. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from him, but this… this was different.

That night, Y/n found herself lying awake, staring at the ceiling of her room. She replayed the day in her mind—Seungkwan’s teasing, his support during rehearsals, the way he had eased her tension without expecting anything in return.

Her hand unconsciously brushed over her shoulder, where his touch had lingered. She felt her cheeks warm, and she groaned, pulling the blanket over her head.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered to herself.

But deep down, she knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t ridiculous at all.

It was the beginning of something she couldn’t quite put into words yet—something that scared her as much as it excited her.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n allowed herself to smile at the thought of what might come next.

The next morning, the rehearsal room was quieter than usual. Y/n arrived first, settling into her usual seat by the piano, her lyric book open in front of her. She scribbled notes absently, her mind wandering to the events of the previous evening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. She looked up to see Seungkwan, his bright energy a stark contrast to the calm atmosphere. He flashed her a grin as he walked in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.

“For the perfectionist,” he said, placing one cup on the table in front of her. “Thought you might need some fuel for another round of ‘let’s rehearse until we drop.’”

Y/n raised an eyebrow but accepted the coffee. “What’s your ulterior motive?”

“Ulterior motive?” Seungkwan gasped, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Can’t a guy just bring his duet partner a coffee without being accused of scheming?”

Y/n shook her head, fighting back a smile. “Thank you, Boo.”

“Wow,” he teased. “Did Y/n just thank me? Is this my reward for putting up with your obsessive note adjustments?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the amused glint in them. “Keep talking, and I might make you run the chorus twenty more times today.”

Seungkwan laughed, plopping onto the seat beside her. “Fine, fine. Truce.”

As the day wore on, the duo rehearsed tirelessly. The song had taken on a life of its own, their contrasting styles blending in a way neither of them could have predicted.

“Alright, let’s take it from the bridge,” Y/n said, flipping through her notes.

Seungkwan groaned but stood, adjusting the microphone. “You’re lucky I like this song.”

They began again, their voices rising and intertwining in perfect harmony. The emotions they poured into the performance felt raw and real, and by the time they reached the final note, the room was silent.

Y/n turned to Seungkwan, her chest rising and falling as she caught her breath. “That was… good,” she admitted.

“Good?” Seungkwan said, his hands on his hips. “Y/n, that was amazing. Admit it—we’re kind of incredible together.”

She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the sound of a chair tipping over behind her. Startled, Y/n stumbled, her ankle twisting awkwardly.

Before she could hit the ground, Seungkwan was there, catching her in his arms.

“Careful!” he exclaimed, steadying her.

“I’m fine,” Y/n said quickly, though her cheeks flushed as she tried to pull away.

“Fine? You almost face-planted,” Seungkwan said, his brow furrowed in concern. “Sit down for a second.”

Y/n didn’t protest this time, letting him guide her to the bench. He crouched down, examining her ankle with uncharacteristic seriousness.

“It’s not swollen,” he said after a moment, looking up at her. “But you should be careful. You’re not invincible, you know.”

Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at his concern, the teasing edge in his voice softened by genuine care.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, her gaze meeting his.

“Anytime,” Seungkwan replied with a lopsided grin. “Can’t have my duet partner out of commission, can I?”

That evening, Y/n found herself lingering in the hallway outside the rehearsal room. She had left her notebook behind and was debating whether to retrieve it when she heard Seungkwan’s voice from inside.

“... she’s tough, you know?” he was saying, his tone softer than usual. “But there’s something about her. It’s like she’s carrying the weight of the world, and I just want her to know she doesn’t have to.”

Y/n froze, her heart pounding. Was he… talking about her?

“She doesn’t let people in easily,” Seungkwan continued, his voice tinged with a mix of admiration and frustration. “But when she does, it’s worth it. She’s worth it.”

Y/n stepped back quietly, her mind racing. She hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected him to see her in a way that no one else did.

As she walked back to her room, her thoughts were a jumble of emotions. But amidst the confusion, one feeling stood out: a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time, spreading through her chest.

Seungkwan wasn’t just her rival anymore. He was becoming something much more, and the realization both thrilled and terrified her.

[yjhzies]

“Mr. Blushing Boo.” — Boo Seungkwan

⸝⸝୭ ˚. fluff . crack . self-indulgent

⋆ pairings : seungkwan x gn!reader ⋆ warning : not proof-read, mentions of a ghost (not literally) ⋆ wc : 0.8k [✉️] · when you're bf hates you addressing him by his full name, but he is down bad for you.

⋆ - note : DON'T WE JUST LOVE A LOSER BOO 😼 he is so cute i couldn't shake this thought off so I'll share some of my delulu-ness <3 also my first seungkwan fic! this man is wrecking me so hard it's not even a joke anymore, hannie is shivering timbering in his boots 💔🙏

"I swear, this recipe said 'easy'."

Seungkwan groaned in frustration, scowling at the recipe book on the counter in front of him and reaching out to wipe his forehead with the back of his hand.

You let out a small laugh, handing him a tissue. "Use this, stinky."

Huffing out a breath, he took the tissue from your grasp while rolling his eyes and sneering. He returned his gaze to the recipe book, his face painted with an unimpressed expression.

"Baby, can you bring me the flour?" He said, not taking his eyes off the book as he began mixing the batter in a bowl.

"Ah, okay," you say, washing your hands and walking over to the cabinet.

You extended your hand to unlock the cabinet and then grabbed the flour bag. Your hands were shaky from the weight, and you prayed that it wouldn't fall. Just as you gradually took it out over your head—

boom.

You just stood there dumbfounded with flour all over your face, not even bothering to scream. You blow the flour from your lips away.

"I heard a sound, are you oka-"

Seungkwan arrived on the other side of the kitchen and called out, only to stand there with his mouth agape. He looked you up and down, then burst out laughing.

"Baby-" He squealed, leaning on the counter to support himself and keep from falling. You scowled at him. However, you could not suppress the small giggle that escaped your lips when you saw him laughing.

His hands move away from the counter, causing him to roll on the ground as he laughs.

"What a boyfriend," you murmured under your breath, amused by the sight of your boyfriend rolling on the floor, laughing instead of helping you.

"Come and help me now, will you?"

With a gasp for breath, he opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out as he began laughing once more.

You stood there, looking stupid like a ghost. With a sneer, you inhale deeply, prepared to scare your beloved boyfriend half to death.

"Boo Seungkwan!"

He paused at the full ass goverment name, and perked up his head to look at you. His eyes widened as if they were about to pop out, and his lips pursed.

"Come and help me." Your tone was firm, and Seungkwan pushed himself off the floor and dashed straight to you. He picked up the flour bag and set it on the table before taking a cloth to wipe your face.

With a pout on his lips and his eyes fixed on your cheek, he gently started wiping the flour off your face. You knew it was because you addressed him by his full name. He obediently followed your words as you tried not to laugh at his pout.

"Baby," he said quietly, staring at his hand. "I'm sorry for laughing earlier..."

"I swear I didn't mean it! you see, it was just really funny seeing you covered in f-" He paused and raising his head to study your expression before lowering it once more. "Okay, I'll shut up."

But he flinches as you grab his face and peck his lips. As he digests what happened, his eyes enlarge.

"You're so cute, boo." You grin, squishing his pink-dusted cheeks. Unlike him, he smiled shyly and looked down, like a shy high school boy facing his crush.

"Aw, should I name you Mr. Shy Boo?"

He giggled lightly as you called him Boo. Suddenly shy to touch you, he reached out to hold the fabric of your shirt on the sides of your waist.

It was one of those goldy moments when you fluttered THE Boo Seungkwan's heart. Because, first thing, there has not been a day when he has not side-eyed you if you are being clingy more than usual (he actually enjoys it and gives in after acting whiny), and second, he will be teasing and poking you every chance he gets, so you are the one who is giddy at the end of the day. But that doesn't stop you from knowing his weaknesses.

"No, just call me boo..." With a slight smile on his face, he mumbled and leaned in to place his head on your shoulder while placing his hands lightly on your hips.

Reaching out, you take his hands in yours, adjusting it so that it encircles your waist before you put your own arms around his neck.

"Guess what, boo?"

"Mm?"

"+1 for my collection."

"Huh? what collection?"

"The Blushing Boo collection!" You giggled, and suddenly Seungkwan is side eyeing you. He raised his head to intensify the glare, which appeared more like to a pout.

"You don't like it? should I change it to Boo Seungkwan?"

"Don't call me that." With a light foot stomp, he let out a whine. "The name boo sounds much better from your mouth."

"So can I name the collection as blushing boo?" You grinned.

He huffed with a hint of smile, and shrugged. "Whatever."

"Got it, Mr. Blushing Boo!"

[simpxxstan]

boys over flowers (booseoksoon + chan)

this summer, four new teachers are joining sebong elementary school: kwon soonyoung, the physical education teacher, lee seokmin, the science teacher, boo seungkwan, the music teacher, and lee chan, the dance teacher. join them as they embark on this new journey, and how they navigate through the world of romance and friendship!

a series of four short stories, wrapped around the same setting, arriving soon!

themes: elementary school teachers!au, romcom-ish, fluff, minor angst

word count: less than 10k for each oneshot

#1: lunch lee seokmin x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers out now!

#2: it isn't you boo seungkwan x f.reader genre: exes to lovers out now!

#3: flat no. 1102 lee chan x f.reader genre: friends to lovers release date: 30th May

#4: bad boy bad girl kwon soonyoung x f.reader genre: enemies to lovers release date: 2nd June

all release dates are tentative! warnings and word counts for each oneshot will be mentioned when they are released.

[dollyhyuckii]

𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀-𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗻⋆୨୧˚

word count- 679 ♡

content- bf seungkwan! x reader! ♡

genre: fluff ♡

warnings- kissing, crying(comfort)/everything is in lowercase on purpose ♡

୨୧˚authors note -this is for the seventeen drabble week! , you can read all of them here!

on the night of you and seungkwans one year anniversary, you both sat at a cozy table in the apartment you two shared , a candle flickering between the two of you. the air was filled with the soft hum of both of your favorite song, and the scent of fresh roses filled the room. you two had decided to write letters to each other to mark the occasion, reflecting on your journey together every high, every low, and every quiet moment that had brought you two closer.

seungkwan was the first to hand over his letter. your fingers trembled slightly as you unfolded the paper, your heart swelling with the familiar warmth you felt whenever he looked at you. you began reading, your eyes tracing over the words he had carefully written.

“my sweet girl, i had no idea that a single person could change my world so completely. this past year, with all its little adventures and moments, has been the best of my life because of you. you’ve shown me what it means to love deeply and be loved, to care without conditions, and to share life with someone who truly sees me. you’ve taught me patience, joy, and how beautiful it is to feel so connected to someone. i love your laughter, the way your eyes light up when you’re passionate about something, and even the quiet moments when words aren’t needed at all. thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything.”

as you read, you felt your throat tighten. his words unlocked every emotion you had bottled up over the past year gratitude, love, vulnerability. a tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.

“sweet girl?” seungkwan asked softly, reaching out to brush your cheek.

you smiled, though your voice wavered. “it’s beautiful baby...”

taking a deep breath, you handed him your letter. seungkwan unfolded it, his gaze steady as he began to read. you watched him closely, feeling both nervous and excited for him to understand the depths of your feelings.

“seungkwan , i can’t believe it’s been a year. from the moment we met, i knew there was something special about you. you made me feel safe, seen, and loved in a way ive never known and ever felt. every moment with you has been filled with laughter and kindness, even when things weren’t easy. you’ve taught me how to open up, to trust, and to believe in something real. i love how you always know when i need a hug, how you listen when i’m rambling about nothing, and how you never hesitate to be there for me. i love you, deeply and endlessly. you’ve become my heart.”

when seungkwan looked up, his eyes softened, a gentle smile forming on his lips. “my sweet sweet girl…,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

you couldn’t hold back the tears now. they spilled freely down your face as the emotions of the past year washed over you, how much you both had grown together, how deeply you cared for one another, and how lucky you felt to have him by your side. seungkwan stood up, walked around the table, and knelt beside you . his hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he gently wiped away your tears with his thumb.

“it’s okay sweet girl..,” he said softly, “i’ve got you.”

you looked at him, your heart full, and nodded. “i’m just so happy.. happy for us baby. i didn’t know i could feel this way.”

he leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. it was slow, sweet, filled with the promise of many more years to come. in that moment, you weren’t just two people celebrating an anniversary, it was were two souls, intertwined, ready to face whatever life had in store for you two, together.

when you both finally pulled away, seungkwan whispered, “i love you, my sweet girl . always.”

you smiled through your tears, your hand still resting in his. “i love you too, baby. always.”

[mochacoda]

[teaser] too nice | hjs

Pairing: Hong Joshua x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Joshua Hong is nice. Too nice. He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. The answer is, no. Problem is, he's your coworker and your neighbor.

Content: Fluff | Coworkers to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: slightly insecure reader, totally inspired by the Youngji chocolate milk grandchildren interview, lots of elevators, lots of tension, a bit of drinking, mutual pining, "sweetheart" as a petname, gentleman agenda indeed, except he goes a bit mad at the end, seungkwan is a comedic genius, woozi is the wingman of the year, konglish w/ context clues, reader is scared of loud noises, no "y/n"

Word Count: 9.9K (full)

Full Version: January 8 -> RELEASED HERE

Masterlist

Monday

Joshua Hong is nice. Really nice. He opens the door for you every morning walking into work. He insists that he carries heavy file boxes from your boss’ office to your desk. He buys you coffee from the cafe down the street, knowing that the instant machine is almost always broken. Whenever he passes you in the hallway, he always smiles and mouths “fighting!” He notices when your enthusiastic mask slips and your tiredness peaks through. He tells you not to work so hard, and asks if you’ve been sleeping well. 

He’s the kind of nice that makes people think twice about their relationship to him, wondering if they might be special. 

But the answer is, no. 

“He’s just like that. He’s nice to everyone. Get a grip.”

You sigh, staring at your reflection in the mirror hanging above your vanity. You’ve been absentmindedly rubbing moisturizer on your cheeks for the last three minutes, at least, thinking about your coworker. How have you gotten to the point of talking to yourself in attempts to rationalize the thoughts of him clouding your mind?

All of a sudden, your alarm rings. You jolt upright, reminded that you have to leave your tiny apartment and head over to your equally small office cubicle. 

You quickly stand up from your vanity chair, then walk over to your closet to grab a jacket. Relying on muscle memory, your hand moves toward the hook it always lies on, only to swipe at air. 

The one and only winter coat you own isn’t there. 

You groan, remembering that you’d put it in the laundry bin after staining it with beer over the weekend, at that disastrous company “bonding” event. You look down at the taupe sweater you’re wearing, pinching the material to guess if it’d be warm enough. It’s barely a centimeter of fabric. 

Glancing at the time on your phone, you decide that the thin sweater would just have to do. 

You turn back to the mirror to do one last check of your appearance, when something catches your eye. Sitting on your bedside table is the plushie Joshua had won for you at the arcade. The bunny stares back at you innocently. You’d placed it there last night before crashing out on your bed, fatigued from the chaos of the company outing—or, more specifically, the secondhand embarrassment recalling your attempts at trying to be normal around Joshua.  

You shake your head roughly. You could cringe at yourself on the way to work. Grabbing your work bag and shoving your shoes on, you rush over to the door. 

Squaring your shoulders, you open it and walk out. And for a moment, as you’re turning your key to lock the door, you think that you’ll be alone for the commute to work for once. 

But then you hear a familiar voice.

“Good morning!” 

You tense, heart beginning to race, then turn around with a weak smile.

“Hi, Joshua.” 

Somehow, you’re not only coworkers with your crush, but also next door neighbors. 

“Hey,” he says, then takes a sharp breath. “It’s pretty cold today. Is that sweater going to be warm enough?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you drop your keys into your bag. “It can’t be that cold.” 

You adjust the bag strap on your shoulder and walk toward the elevator on your floor, pressing the down button. It immediately opens.

“You sure?” 

You nod as the two of you walk inside the elevator. 

Hoping he’ll stop pushing you on your lack of a coat, you ask, “Did you look into the McKinley and Lee file yet?”

“Come on, it’s not even 9am and you’re already attacking me with work!” Joshua dramatically clutches his chest, then lightly punches your arm. “What’d we say about 워라밸, huh?”

You feel your face getting hot, your right hand reflexively going up to where he’d touched your left arm. Was it always this toasty in the elevator?

Meeting his eyes for the first time today, you say, “Yeah, yeah, work-life balance. You’re right.”

His lips turn up and his eyes crinkle into bright crescent moons. You find yourself smiling back at him, despite having tried so hard to avoid his stupidly sweet gaze.  

“I’m just teasin’, you know?” he says, leaning casually against the steel walls of the small elevator.

“Yeah, yeah,” you mumble again, rubbing the handle of your bag and tapping your foot to give yourself something else to focus on, suddenly aware that the two of you were alone. 

God, could the elevator move any slower? Fidgeting with the loose threads of your sweater, you were on the verge of melting from being near his vicinity for so long. 

Ever since Joshua Hong had arrived two months ago as a transfer from the Seoul branch, you haven’t gone a day without running into him. It was HR’s fault, really. The Human Resources department had placed him in yours, and also gave him the company-funded apartment next door to you. 

He’d spent so much time around you that, if you didn’t see the people who regularly flocked to him, you’d think you were his only friend in the States. It was, and still is, ridiculous. His constant presence has meant that you are constantly aware of yourself. Of how you’re breathing too loud, and how your heart is beating too fast, and how you were in too much of a rush to do your hair and makeup this morning. He makes you care more than usual about how well you perform at work, and, worse, he makes you think about how happy and funny you appear to be. 

The way he teases you for being nervous (although that’s only because he’s around practically all the time) and the way he always notices when you aren’t feeling well—it’s as if he sees right through you. Yes, he sees right through you, and it’s incredibly scary knowing he could confront you at any time—maybe even in this elevator—and say that he’s known all along that you’ve had feelings for him. And what’s worse is that you know he’d be polite with his rejection. He’d be a gentleman, carefully letting you down with—

“Hello? Hellooo?” Joshua says, waving his hand in front of your face.

You jump, blinking rapidly. “Huh? Sorry, what?”

“We’re here, sweetheart,” he says gently.

“Oh,” you reply lamely. 

He gestures with his hand for you to walk out of the elevator first. Inside the lobby, he walks by your side. As the two of you approach the door, he reaches it first, and opens it for you to head outside. 

You’re immediately hit with a blast of winter and harsh winds. Your arms instinctively tighten around your stomach, trying to prevent the cold air from rushing up your sweater. 

Joshua turns to you, brows furrowed. His eyes glance over your sweater again, and you can tell he’s about to say something. Certain it’s an I told you so, you quickly say, “Before you start, I’m fine. It’s really not that cold, and the bus is coming soon anyway.”

You march forward toward the crosswalk before the bus stop, knowing he’s following behind you. Once you reach the start of the white lines, you slow down to a stop, waiting for the signal to change. 

Still behind you, Joshua says, “거기 있어봐.” 

“왜?” Though confused, you listen to his request to stay where you are. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling somewhat awkward just standing with your back turned to him. 

He doesn’t answer your question why, but you hear a shuffle and the sound of fabric rustling. Then you feel a warm coat draped over your shoulders. 

You turn back to face Joshua with a start, opening your mouth to protest.

But before you can get a word out, he takes his pointer finger and lightly presses it against your lips. 

“Shh,” he says with a smile. “Tomorrow, wear a jacket, okay?” He pats the top of your head. 

Speechless, you barely bring yourself to nod, then remember to shut your jaw. Let’s just survive this bus ride, you tell yourself. God, it was unfair how nice he was. It only made it harder for you to believe he was like this with everyone—or to stop hoping that, somehow, you might be the exception. 

Masterlist

Author’s Note: hi hope u liked it :) full version RELEASED HERE

[kwanholic]

boo seungkwan + thigh riding

pairing; bf!seungkwan x afab!reader

genre; smut (mdni!), a little bit of fluff if you squint

warnings; thigh riding, petnames (f. receiving), nothing else i think

a/n; his thighs actually drive me insane i need him so bad.. i hope this is good because i was half asleep writing this 😭(note; english is not my first language, apologies for any grammatical mistakes)

divider by @/cafekitsune

you two laid in bed, the soft glow of the moon illuminating the bedroom softly through the curtains. bodies pressed together, hearts beating in synchrony.

your fingers traced soft, lazy circles on seungkwan’s chest, and he responded by running his fingers through your hair. your eyes, filled with nothing else than love, met and held each other captive.

there was a moment of silence before he leaned in, his lips softly brushing against yours. as the kiss deepened, a sudden wave of warmth spread through your bodies.

you pulled away, mind suddenly filled with lustful thoughts. a small smile formed on your lips as you looked at seungkwan.

“there’s something i want to try” you whispered, the sentence interrupting the silence of the room.

he replied with just a curious hum before you were climbing on top of him, your knees on both sides of his thighs. you signalled for him to sit up, and he immediately obeyed, you two now facing each other.

“let me ride your thighs, please” you begged, grabbing onto his shoulders, your burning core pressing against his slowly growing bulge.

seungkwan knew how much you loved his thighs, but the thought of thigh riding had never crossed his mind. looking at you like this though, desperate and pathetically wet against him, he couldn’t help but let you.

you just smiled in response, quickly getting rid of the shorts and panties you were wearing. seungkwan was wearing shorts too, but they had ridden up just enough for you to see his full thigh. you slowly sat down onto his right thigh, and the feeling of his warm skin touching your wet cunt was enough to make you whimper.

you slowly started grinding yourself against him, gripping his shoulders tightly. you let out quiet whimpers into his ear, unable to keep quiet.

his hands traveled down to your waist, helping you move back and forth. at first, he held you softly, but his touch getting stronger as your moans started getting more desperate and your moves sloppier.

quickly, you reached your climax, your juices covering his thigh.

“good job, baby” he said softly, kissing at your neck. you could feel his hardened member against your knee, making you feel a little selfish.

“don’t you need some help down there?” you asked, looking up at his eyes. he just shook his head as a no.

“your pleasure is more important than mine, darling, don’t worry about it” he said, leaving a peck on your lips.

“let’s cleaned up now so we can sleep, hm?” he smiled, helping you get off him.

[cheolism-archive]

first

✿ — seungkwan x reader ❀ — summary: you and seungkwan were new to relationships, and netiher of you felt rushed to do anything. six months in, and you both still haven't had sex. but then you start looking at his hands and thighs, and find you just can't help yourself. ✿ — wc is approx 5.8k ❀ — tags: virgin!reader x virgin!seungkwan. first times, established relationship. ✿ — warnings: reader is fem and demisexual coded. love confessions during sex. thigh-riding and humping, cumming in pants.

Seungkwan never made you feel rushed. 

The two of you walked the path of your relationship at your own pace. Mingyu said the two of you were moving slowly, too slowly, but you never felt like you were. Your relationship moved at its own pace, one comfortable to the both of you, and neither of you minded it. 

Your first kiss had been in your front hallway as he dropped you off after your first official date. He had bitten his lip, glancing between your mouth and eyes as you talked about how you had enjoyed the night. 

Then, you let your smile blossom. You stepped to him, the tip of your shoe brushing against his. “You can kiss me if you want to,” you had muttered, looking at his pretty mouth. “But know you’ll be my first, so I won’t know what to do.”

Seungkwan’s answering smile was brilliant, and he slowly reached up to cup your face. His hands were large, encompassing your cheeks. He lowered his face, nose brushing yours. “Is it bad that makes me happy? Knowing I’ll be your first kiss?”

Your hands made their way into his shirt, curling into the fabric and tugging. You pushed up, letting your lips brush against his in answer. 

During a truth and dare session that followed after your first kiss, Mingyu, who made it his business to know your business, asked you when your first kiss was. When you had answered honestly, that it was only a few weeks before and with Seungkwan, Mingyu had gasped, as if it was rare for someone your age to have gone all this time without kissing. 

But, remembering how Seungkwan’s lips gently moved against yours, pressing and giving and guiding, you couldn’t be bothered to be offended. Not when you knew how precious your first kiss had been; not when you had shared it with Boo Seungkwan. 

Despite Seungkwan’s experience in kissing, which he assured you was hardly any, the relationship between the two of you brought a lot of new experiences for the both of you. Neither of you had really dated before one another, finding a different sort of loneliness in your young adulthood that your friends never seemed to share. 

“I’ve never brought someone to meet my grandma,” Seungkwan admitted as you parked outside his grandma’s home. 

“I’ve never kissed anyone in a theater before,” Seungkwan confessed as you pulled away from where you had leaned across the seat.

“No one’s ever called me that before,” Seungkwan admitted as you mouthed against his neck one evening, a breathy darling leaving your lips. 

“I’ve never spent Valentines with a partner,” He had laughed as the two of you were rejected from the restaurant, which was filled to the brim with couples who had the same idea as you for the Valentines evening. 

“I’ve never had sex before,” He had blurted during the evening of your fourth-month anniversary. You blinked from across the kitchen island at him, holding the saucepan in one hand and the wooden spoon in the other as you were preparing his pasta plate. “Just -- just in case you’re wanting . . .”

“Well, I’m not in a rush if you’re not.”

And so it was just another thing the two of you had decided to breach when the moment came. You didn’t want to plan for it; didn’t want to force the moment. It would happen when it did, and the best either of you could do was prepare for when it did happen. 

Not that you didn’t want to. 

Sometimes you looked at Seungkwan and couldn’t help but feel a need, a desperation, that was entirely foreign. One that had you battling the urge to grab him from where he stood talking to Seokmin, laughing and brushing back his stray bangs that had managed to escape his pushed-back hair, pulling him away from his friend and into the car for some privacy. 

One horrifying time it had happened when he was cooing at a baby. He was reaching out, fingers brushing against the infant’s soft cheek, complimenting her on how sweet she was. Seungkwan’s lips were curling, obviously endeared by the baby, eyes soft and gentle and filled with a sort of adoration that reminded you of how he looked at you.

You were absolutely appalled at your urge to whisk him away from the baby and jump him, to press your hands underneath his shirt and feel his stomach flex as you pressed desperate kisses to his neck and collar. 

Seungkwan was turning you into some sort of degenerate. Some wanton, promiscuous, shameless, licentious creature that woke up with soaked underwear and the image of Seungkwan’s bare thighs still at the forefront of your mind.

Even now, sitting next to Seungkwan and watching a movie, those salacious thoughts sent wetness gushing from your pussy and had you shifting in your seat, fighting to keep your cool.

It wasn’t as if the two of you were watching anything pornographic. It was some movie Seungcheol had suggested, one with too many fights and villains and not enough plot or good writing. You had attempted to watch it, of course you had. Date night, whether it was sitting on your couch and watching a movie or walking alongside the river, hand in hand, was something that never failed to brighten your day and put a smile on your face. 

But after another cliche, misogynistic comment by the red-headed love interest who served as nothing more than a plot device, you rolled your eyes and chanced a look at Seungkwan. Seungkwan didn’t like action movies, had gotten bored watching the Dark Night and would much rather see a good romance (your first “argument” had been over whether Love, Actually, was actually any good and how only two aspects of the movie didn’t salvage the entire thing from being bad). 

The romance between the lead and the love interest was enough to keep Seungkwan keyed in on the movie. He watched with wide eyes as the red head pressed a kiss to the lead’s lips before rushing away, ashamed at her bravery. 

Your Boo Seungkwan was so fucking cute, you couldn’t help but think. There was a blush on his cheeks and on his ears as he watched the lead run after the red head and sweep her up into a classic Hollywood-style kiss. He watched eagerly, practically drinking the scene up. 

Then he licked his lips and it was game over for you. 

Seungkwan’s mouth, which you had stared at far too often, was small and pouty and constantly tempting. A day without kissing Seungkwan was a day wasted, in your opinion. 

His hair was slightly wavy from the shower he took before coming over, brown bangs brushing against the edges of his eyes, where his lower and upper lids kissed. It had grown longer in the months the two of you had been dating, and you never ever dared complain. 

From his hair your gaze went to his ears. There was your favorite place to kiss besides his lips (and neck and collar and shoulder and the spot where his neck and collar met, and his --). Three beauty marks, perfectly spaced, practically begging for the brush of your lips. 

Movement brought your eyes from his ears. Seungkwan’s eyes were still trained on the movie, but he had begun pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie. His forearms flexed, veins appearing, and you were transfixed as you watched his hands, his impossibly beautiful and elegant hands, slid up his forearms to push up his sleeves. His fingers were long and smooth, the veins of his hands prominent. 

What did it say about you, you wondered, that you had dreams of those hands. That you had dreamt before about his hands running up your thighs, fingers skimming the hem of your shorts; his fingers pressing against the wet spot in your underwear, the tips of his fingers dipping underneath the waistband of your underwear; the pads of his fingers brushing against your clit. 

Fuck. 

Your heart in your throat, you shifted against the couch. The insides of your thighs brushed against your underwear, the cold wetness that soaked it shocking you. 

“This is a good movie,” Seungkwan said, bringing your attention from where his hands had settled on his thighs. “I really like the romance in it.”

You glanced at the screen. The lead was verbally fighting his mentor in a moment that would, surely, lead to a horrific death scene from the mentor where the lead was choking out apologies. “Yeah. I can see why Seungcheol liked it.”

Seungkwan hummed. Your eyes went back to his thighs. 

His thighs. Seungkwan opted for wearing shorts more often than not, and everytime you were gifted with the sight of his smooth, tanned skin you wanted to fall to your knees. His thighs were meaty from hours filled with cardio, and you constantly wanted to dig your fingers into the flesh and feel. 

You wanted to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his thighs in worship; suck them, nibble at them, listen to Seungkwan’s breathy whines as you teased him. You wanted to feel them squeeze around your shoulders as you took his cock into your mouth, wanted to feel them beneath your own thighs as you bounced on his cock. 

You could feel the wetness that trickled from your pussy, could the slide of it. Your pussy clenched around nothing in desperation. Shame flooded through you, and you took a heavy breath, feeling as though you hadn’t been breathing all this time. 

Thighs clenching, you threw one over the other and squeezed in an attempt to quench your thirst. 

All it did, however, was get Seungkwan’s attention. Your boyfriend glanced at you, head tilted. “You okay?”

You smiled at him, reaching out and setting your hand on his and squeezing. “Yeah. Just getting hungry is all.”

“We can order something now, if you want,” Seungkwan offered. “I can pause the movie.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning against him and burrowing your face into his shoulder. Seungkwan smelled good, as he always did. Like laundry softener and lavender, cotton sheets and freshness. 

“We can order after.” You said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s not so bad.”

Seungkwan angled his head to press an awkward kiss to your hair. Then he went back to watching the movie. 

The hunger in your stomach was nothing compared to the hunger, lust, you felt for him. 

You licked your lips, eyeing the full curve of his cheeks and the hardness of his jaw. Like a parched man offered a cup of water, you desperately drank him in. The stretch of his neck, unmarked; the beauty marks near his ear; the angle of his fingers as he reached up and brushed his bangs away from his eyes, how they softly settled back on his thighs. 

Seungkwan’s navy blue shorts had ridden up, revealing the meatiness of his thighs that had you swallowing nothing, pussy clenching around nothing. 

You wanted your mouth on those thighs, wanting your hands on them. You wanted to be sat on them, pussy grinding down, clit dragging against his bare skin and riding them. 

Slowly, without drawing his attention from the movie, your hand went to his thigh. Seungkwan’s hand went to yours, fingers lacing together instinctively, and you wanted to curse at your boyfriend’s innocence while you were suffering. 

You took your time unwinding your hand from his. First you started with your thumb brushing gently against his warm skin. Then you shifted your hands so only your middle three fingers were tangled with his, your pinky laying against his thigh and thumb constantly kissing his skin. 

Seungkwan huffed when you fully separated your hands, turning to you with a pout. “Why aren’t you holding my hand, Y/n?”

You chuckled at his whine, peering up at him. Your heart was full of adoration for the boy next to you, and you wondered if your eyes were dripping honey from how sweet he made you feel. 

How ironic it was that Seungkwan had your heart feeling as if it would burst out sunshine while also making your pussy constantly gushed wetness. 

“What a baby,” you teased, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Why don’t you put your arm around me so we can cuddle, baby?”

Seungkwan huffed, still looking offended. But he did as you suggested, his arm going around your shoulders and hugging you to his side. His warmth melted into you, and the position leaning into him, one of your thighs over the other, allowing you to frantically squeeze in a foolish attempt to ease the throbbing of your pussy. 

However, this position allowed you to do something important. 

With his hand brushing against your shoulder, it gave you free reign over his thigh. You settled your hand on his thigh, face towards the television in an attempt to make it seem mindless. His thigh flexed against your hand before relaxing, and you squeezed in response. 

The two of you sat for a handful of moments, Seungkwan content while your fingers brushed against his thighs. He was deeply immersed in the movie still, watching as the mentor was killed by the villian. 

Your hand shifted, sliding up his thigh and stopping where his shorts had ridden up. You tapped your forefinger against his flesh, trying to keep up the relaxed appearance. 

You wanted to suffocate between his thighs. Wanting to take them into your mouth and suck and bite, wanting to pinch and listen to his cries as you swallowed around his cock and knead them. Wanted to hold onto them as you dragged your throat down his cock, his length bringing tears to your eyes as you swallowed his cock back down and took it deep. 

Your pussy gushed again. You couldn’t salvage your underwear, no way. 

Maybe you could take them off and leave them somewhere he could see, you wondered. You imagined him taking notice of your underwear, imagined the red blush that would take over his face. Imagined him bending down, hesitant as he reached to grab them. Imagined him feeling the wet spot left by your pussy; him slowly bringing your underwear up and to his nose, smelling the fragrance of your cunt. 

Fuck, fuck. 

Your hand moved again, sliding underneath his shorts and towards his inner thigh. You still fought to look at the television. 

Seungkwan sucked in a breath from beside you. He snapped his head towards you as you squeezed the fat of his thigh, your name leaving his lips in something crossed between a warning and a sigh. 

You glanced at him, brows furrowed in false confusion. “Something wrong, darling?”

He stared at you for a moment more. You waited for him to admonish you, for him to ask you to remove your hand; for him to draw the line. You’d stop, of course, would retract your hand and press a kiss to his cheek in apology. 

But he did none of those things. Instead Seungkwan pressed his lips together, narrowed his eyes at you, and then went back to watching the movie. 

Grinning and feeling like the cat that got the canary, your hand sunk further into his shorts. Seungkwan took a long, shuddering breath as your fingers brushed against the edge of his underwear. You played with the edge, smoothing your fingers over and under it, nails brushing against his skin. 

“How’s the movie, baby?”

Seungkwan tightened his jaw. “Good.”

“It’s good?” You responded, biting at your lip to suppress your grin and doing a bad job of it. Seungkwan nodded. 

You shifted, turning on your side and rising. His eyes immediately snapped to you. “Keep watching the movie, baby. You said it was good.”

“What are you --”

“Don’t pay me any attention,” you said. When Seungkwan didn’t look away from you, your free hand went to his jaw. You softly nudged his face with your fingers, turning it from you and to the television. “That’s a good boy.”

The answering inhale from Seungkwan had your pussy clenching once more. You hummed, moving to your knees. You pressed your face into his neck, nose pressing against his warm skin, lips ghosting. Your hand pressed up the fabric of his shorts, bearing his thigh, before it settled over the bulge pressing against his underwear. 

Seungkwan let out another shaky breath, his eyebrows furrowing. The arm that was around you moved, clutching at your shirt. 

You kissed his neck, keeping your hand still. “You good?”

He hummed, a slightly shrill noise. 

“Shall I keep going?”

You could feel his answering nod against your head. “I need words, babe.”

“Please,” he begged, voice breathy and the hand in your shirt repositioning to grab more of it and clench. A blush high onto his cheeks. 

You pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to his skin. Slowly, gently, you began moving your hand against his clothed dick. Your hand moved in a constant soothing motion, rubbing. “You might have to tell me what to do, baby.”

“Touch --” Seungkwan cleared his throat. You kissed his neck again, though this was unlike any of the innocent kisses you had been laying. You kissed his neck as if you were kissing his mouth, lips rolling against his skin. “Touch me, please.”

“I am,” you reminded him. You pressed your heel down on his bulge in proof. 

Seungkwan moved his face towards you. His face was still flushed, his brows still furrowed and lips still pouting. His dark eyes were wide, pupils large. “Please.”

You pulled away from him in response. He made a protesting noise, moving to reach for you and pull you back. You moved farther away from him, hands meeting his and stopping him. “Take off your hoodie, Seungkwan.”

He compiled, making quick work of his baby blue hoodie and throwing it to the floor. Seungkwan’s shoulders had broadened due to his hard work at the gym, and the muscle on his biceps were impressive. 

You drank him in eagerly. His chest wasn’t as tanned as the rest of him, but it still had you practically drooling. Working out had given definition to his chest, had given weight to his pecs. You wondered what they would feel like in your hands, what they would look like decorated with red and purple bruises left by your mouth.

His breathless whine of your name brought you out of your imagination. You stood from the couch, hands going to the waist of your pants. “This okay, Kwannie?”

At his answering nod, you were shoving your pants down to your ankles. You kicked them off, ignoring Seungkwan’s shocked inhale, and then were climbing on top of him. 

Your hands went to his shoulders, pushing him back and flush against the couch. You straddled one of his thighs, knees on either side with one brushing against his bulge. His hands went to your shirt, yours smoothing down his biceps and squeezing the muscle. “Tell me if you’re nervous. Okay?”

Seungkwan laughed breathlessly. “Of course I’m nervous. I’m about to lose my virginity to the love of my life.”

Your eyes widened, and his immediately followed suit. Both of you froze against one another, hands still, breaths suspended. 

Then your heart swelled, feeling as though someone had filled it with sun. You laughed breathlessly, hands sliding up his biceps and shoulders to cradle his neck. Pressing close, you brought your mouth to his and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

“And the love of my life is a massive dork,” you said, nose pressing against his cheek. 

His mouth sought yours in answer, pressing an open-mouthed kiss there. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers sinking into the strands and tugging. His tongue went to the seam of your lips and you opened them easily, tongue sliding against his. 

Seungkwan’s hands began wandering, moving from your shirt to the hem. His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, pressing against the base of your spine. Seungkwan broke away from the kiss, his mouth smeared with spit. “This okay?”

“It’s okay,” you returned, taking his lower lip between your lips and sucking. Seungkwan moaned, a deep sound that seemed so at odds with your lovely boy. 

His hands went up your back, nails scraping against your skin. Your mouth wandered from his, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his chin and underneath it. One of your hands moved from his hair, ghosting over his chest. You felt his stomach jump underneath your fingers as you pressed your palm there. “Okay?”

Seungkwan nodded. You took pity on him and didn’t ask again. Your mouth skimmed his neck before attaching to the part where it met his shoulder, taking the skin between your teeth and before sucking. His chest moved against yours as he sucked in a deep breath. 

Then you settled your hand over his bulge, squeezing through his shorts. Seungkwan let out a loud groan in response, his neck straining as he tossed his head back. 

You began marking in earnest in response to his moans and groans, hand smoothing over his dick, rubbing it through the fabric. His nails began to dig into the skin of your back, scraping and pinching.

Soon enough Seungkwan began panting, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. You shifted, sucking another hickey onto his collar, before pulling away. “Hold onto me. Okay, baby?”

Seungkwan’s hands moved from your back to your hips, holding as you asked. You sat back, separating your torso from his and taking a good look at your boyfriend. His blush not only was on his cheeks but spread down his neck, the flush joining the red blossoms left by your mouth in painting a picture of a debauched man. 

His thigh flexed beneath you. Taking the opportunity, you grinded down. Your pussy dragged against his thigh, creating a faint spark of friction that sent another gush of fluid. 

Seungkwan gasped, mouth dropping open and head tipping. “Fuck,” he hissed, brows meeting. “Fuck. You’re so fucking wet.”

You laughed, grinding down again. His hands gripped at your hips, nails digging in. You took care to ensure your clit dragged down, the movement making your mouth go ajar and hips cock forward once more in an attempt to feel the relief once more.

“Can you,” Seungkwan began, his voice deep and dark and sending another gush of wetness out of your pussy and further soaking your underwear. Seungkwan let out a little moan at feeling the wetness taint your underwear, soaking his bare thighs. “Can you cum? Just from that?”

“I don’t know,” you honestly replied. “I feel like I could.”

Then your hands were back on him, going to his waistband. You used one hand to pry open his shorts and underwear, holding it open for your other hand to slide down his pelvis, feeling the little curls of the hair there brush against your palm. 

When your fingers brushed against the base of his dick, you couldn’t help but pause. Your eyes went up to his, unsure. Seungkwan’s hands squeezed your hips. “You don’t have to. We can -- we can stop.”

You shook your head. You moved your hand, skin gliding against his dick. It felt impossibly big and heavy in your hand. Seungkwan shivered, eyes fluttering shut and head going back to rest against the couch. 

More curious than anything, you moved your hand over his dick, exploring. You mapped the veins of it, following them down to the head. You pushed your thumb against the head, wetness from it spurting out onto your hand. 

Seungkwan let out a weak exhale. “We -- usually I use lube or something. It. It makes it easier.”

You retracted your hand from his pants. You offered it to him, palm out. Seungkwan closed his eyes, inhaling. Then he leaned forward, tongue poking out from his mouth. He began running his tongue over your hand, spreading his spit. 

Absent-mindedly you began rocking your hips, grinding your pussy against his thigh once more. His tongue ran over your palm and fingers, coating it in his spit. You thought about his tongue on your wrist, your shoulder; then your breast, dragging down your stomach and to your pussy. 

You leaned forward against his thigh, bearing down on him and grinding down aggressively. You lowered your head, hair falling and framing your face. One of Seungkwan’s hands left your hips, moving to grab the wrist of the hand he had been licking -- licking!!!! 

Seungkwan tugged. You looked up. “Here. Get off for a moment.”

You did as he asked, stumbling. Seungkwan raised his hips off the couch, pulling down his shorts and letting them drop beside the couch. Then he shimmied away, moving so he was laying down the length of the couch. He looked embarrassed, laying there, nearly entirely bare for your eyes. 

“Get on me,” Seungkwan said, though it sounded more like a question than anything. “Straddle my -- my --” 

His face was a brilliant shade of red, and he turned away from you to look at the ceiling. Once Seungkwan wasn’t looking at you he was able to speak. “Straddle my dick and grind down on it.”

Never one to object from a good idea, you slowly made your way on top of Seungkwan. Your knees dug into the couch on either side of his hips, and when you positioned yourself so your pussy was directly over his clothed dick, the both of you let out matching moans. 

His hands went to your hips again. Seungkwan slowly began guiding you into a gentle rocking motion, letting your pussy guide up and down his bulge, letting you grind down on him and use his length. 

You leaned forward, hands bracing on his chest. His loud pants and broken moans filled your ears, clouding your brain. You dragged your pussy down his length and back up it, using it like you would your own hand. Each drag was delicious, had you shoving yourself back down and searching for more friction, for more press. 

“Wait,” Seungkwan panted. You looked up at him. He was breathing heavily, bangs beginning to stick to his forehead from his sweat. “I’ll -- I think I’ll come from this.”

“Just from this?” You asked, brow furrowed. You grinded down on him and Seungkwan let out a loud groan in response, eyes fluttering and tipping his head back. 

Delighted, you kept on moving on top of Seungkwan, watching him. Your boyfriend was always so expressive. You knew when he was mad, irritated, when he was happy or amused. Watching him now, brows furrowed, face red and mouth parted with sweet moans escaping his lips, you had another face to add to your mental catalogue.

Then his jaw dropped; his grip on your hips tightened and his hips were bucking up, a loud, low moan ripping from his mouth. You watched, amazed, as Seungkwan thrusted up into you twice more before his voice broke off. 

He stilled beneath you, going lax. Seungkwan’s chest heaved, and his hands left your hips to hide his face. He let out a high little whine. “I can’t believe I did that.”

You shifted up his body, reaching for his hands and prying them away from his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Seungkwan pouted, sticking out his lower lip. “I’m fine. Just have to live with the knowledge that I came in my pants the first time I ever had sex for the rest of my life.”

You laughed, leaning down and kissing his pout. “It’s okay,” you giggled, kissing his mouth twice more before moving to kiss his cheeks. “It’s cute.”

Seungkwan narrowed his eyes at you. His hands returned to your body, and then he was moving you off of him. You went easily, letting Seungkwan guide you to lay against the other end of the couch. “What’s up, babe?”

“Your turn,” Seungkwan announced, determination heavy on his tongue. He grabbed two pillows that had fallen off the couch. Seungkwan settled one beneath your head; his fingers ran down over your shirt before he found your hips, lifting them up to settle the other pillow. “This good?”

You hummed, shaking your hips. “Comfy as can be!”

Seungkwan huffed. Then his fingers -- his long, beautiful fingers that you dreamt of -- were pulling down at your underwear. You lifted your hips off the pillow so he could guide them down your legs. Seungkwan dropped them beside the couch, and you watched, tongue flicking out to run over your lips in anticipation, as his hands went to your ankles. 

For a moment he just stared at you. Like you were a piece of art, a Mona Lisa amongst masterpieces, an angel amongst humans. His dark eyes took in your wild hair, the heaving of your chest; where your shirt had ridden up, revealing the soft curve of your stomach, the hair surrounding your pussy. 

“Tell me when to stop.” Seungkwan said. His hands ran along your legs as he spread them out, making room to be between them. Goosebumps raised along the trail his fingers left behind. 

Your pussy gushed in anticipation. Your heart seemed to stop, and you know for a fact your brain did. His fingers hovered over your thighs, ghosting your skin. 

Then his hands were on your pussy. One of his hands held it open, fingers splayed around your lips. His other hand went to your clit, thumb attaching itself to it. Immediately you gasped, hips bearing down in an attempt to seek more.

Seungkwan laughed breathlessly, watching. His thumb pressed down on your clit, offering itself. “God. You really are soaked. I didn’t realize you could get so wet.”

You furrowed your brow. One of your hands gripped at the cushion beneath you, the other moving to grip at the cushion pressed against your side. You continued grinding down on his thumb, feeling the friction mount within your gut. 

Seungkwan continued talking all the while, eyes still watching your pussy. As he talked he maneuvered his hand, fingers brushing against your entrance. “I knew pussies --” Another wave of wetness escaped from your pussy after that word, that crude, horrid, delightful word, left his lips. “-- got wet. But fuck. Your underwear was drenched, baby. And your pussy? It’s soaking. If I put my mouth down there I’d fucking drown, I think.”

The image of Seungkwan’s head between your thighs, mouth attaching itself to your pussy and clit, sent a moan from your lips. His fingers continued moving, one of them dipping into your entrance. “It’s like. It’s like your pussy is begging me to put something in.”

“Please,” You whispered, hips bucking into his hold. “Please, Kwannie.”

Then two of his fingers were dipping inside you. If he tried to move slowly, it was to no avail; your pussy greedily sucked him in, squeezing around his digits as if they were his dick instead. 

You gasped, feeling as his fingers, which had a better angle than yours ever did, stretched your walls. He didn’t move them much, shifting every few seconds. His thumb continued to work against your clit, however, and you felt something tightening in your gut, as if someone was pulling a string taut. 

“Fuck,” Seungkwan breathed, “fuck you’re beautiful.”

And then the string was cut, and your orgasm washed over you in wave after wave. Seungkwan kept pressing his thumb against your clit, his fingers inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as your body tightened and released, and as it released you felt as if every single worry you ever had about anything left with the tension. 

Slowly, as to not harm you, Seungkwan removed his fingers. You let out a soft little whine as he did, eyes opening just enough to watch him. He held his hand up, splaying out his fingers. Your fluids glistened in the light, strings of it connecting his fingers. 

You forced your eyes shut. Seungkwan shifted off the couch. For a moment there was quiet. 

“Uh. I didn’t bring another pair of underwear.”

You looked at him. He had your discarded pants in one hand, the other hand burrowed into the fabric -- no doubt getting your fluids off of his hand. You looked over his body, taking in the muscles of his thighs and calves and arms. The golden skin, the beauty marks and moles that decorated him. 

You wanted to press him to the bed and kiss each and every single mark.

For another time, you decided. Instead you slowly moved into a sitting position, kicking out the pillow from beneath your hips. “I’ll have to throw them into the wash. I think I have something that’ll fit you.”

“It’ll take all night to get clean,” Seungkwan mumbled, pouting. 

You grinned, opening your arms. Seungkwan dropped your pants and went to you, sliding his arms around your shoulders and yours going around his middle. You pressed a kiss to his stomach, enjoying the feel of it against your cheek. 

“Then you’ll just have to stay the night.”

Seungkwan sighed. “I guess.”

You mocked him, screwing up your face and peering at him. “How horrible of me to offer for my boyfriend, who took my first kiss and my virginity, to spend the night. Should’ve kicked you out as soon as I finished.”

“Please,” Seungkwan said, rolling his eyes. “You were so wowed by my performance you couldn’t even move.”

You burrowed your face back into his stomach. “Whatever you say, princess. I’ll throw the clothes into the wash, you order our food? And we can just eat in bed and cuddle?”

Seungkwan hummed, fingers running along your shoulders. His hands settled on either side of your head, moving your face from his stomach. You pouted up at him. “I mean, I guess that’ll be all right. I suppose you want Mexican.”

You nodded, lips parting in a wide smile. Seungkwan laughed, and then he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “We’ll have to start the movie over again.”

“What movie?”

Seungkwan paused, pulling away to look down at you. “Uh. The movie Seungcheol recommended?”

“Oh,” you said. “Okay. So. Here’s the thing. That movie fucking sucks.”

Seungkwan’s eyes widened. “But -- the romance! The chemistry between the mains! You can’t tell me that you don’t see it!”

You stood. The wetness between your thighs had begun to stick, and you couldn’t help but wince. “Yeah, no. We’re not watching it.”

“But --” Seungkwan pouted, sticking out his lips and widening his eyes. It was his classic puppy-eyed look, the one that had you handing everything to him on a silver platter. “But baby! If you love me like you said you do, you’ll replay the movie and watch it with me!”

Sighing, you went to him. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, rising to your heels and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I do love you, Boo Seungkwan. So much.

“But I don’t love you that much.”

[hannieehaee]

them accidentally ditching you on your bday - vu

hhu, vu, pu

content: angsty, gender neutral, established relationship, etc.

part 2

wc: 4537

a/n: thank u to the people who requested this <3 so sorry its so longshdkks pls lmk if u want a pt. 2 with a resolution. not proofread btw </3

masterlist

jeonghan -

jeonghan wasn't a big drinker by any means. sure, he enjoyed the occasional drink with his friends, but it wasnt much of a habit. being a member of seventeen, however, it was quite often that he found himself around alcohol. quite a few of his members enjoyed sharing drinks with one another whenever their schedules allowed. jeonghan, being jeonghan, would always join them, enjoying nothing more than to be around the company of his most loved ones. unfortunately, during these instances he was also away from you, seeing as drinks with his friends tended to be right after work, just before he arrived home to you. this would cause him to make his way into your arms later than usual on the days his friends dragged him away to a pub. you didn't usually mind this, only occasionally pouting at him when he'd come home a bit later than usual without texting you about it beforehand.

today was one of the many days in which jeonghan had found himself at a discreet pub in seoul, accompanied by none other than mingyu, seokmin, chan, seungcheol and joshua, who were all pretty heavy drinkers whenever the mood struck them. jeonghan had prior plans today; it was your birthday tomorrow, so he knew he needed to get home at a timely hour in order to allow you to fall asleep in his arms as your birthday celebrations began. those plans were, however, slightly interrupted by the insistence of a choi seungcheol who adored jeonghan's company and insisted he tag along, even if only for a little while. jeonghan didn't see any harm in this, knowing he didn't have much of a tendency of getting drunk at these gatherings. he could easily make an appearance for one or two hours before excusing himself to go find refuge in your arms.

except that did not happen.

jeonghan wasn't sure how events had turned this way. he had lost most of his sense of self five shots in (what the hell was mingyu feeding him?). he began to go in and out of consciousness, still being aware of his surroundings, but not having many more thoughts past that. the one thing that did manage to slip his mind, however, was his plan to go home to you before the clock struck 12, as it was now 1 in the am. he had fully disregarded his phone too, too distracted with his friends to notice the vibrations on the table.

he woke up the next morning at about 12pm, insane headache and in familiar surroundings. it was joshua's house, he was pretty sure. and he wasn't alone. seungcheol and the rest were also located in different areas of the living room which jeonghan had awoken in. how did he even get here, he wondered. must've called a cab last night. but wait, his phone was out of battery last time he checked it. must've been one of the boys then.

none of these things mattered to jeonghan right now, so he simply got up and charged his phone, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water as he made conversation with joshua, who was the only other member awake at the moment. as soon as his phone charged, jeonghan headed over to grab it, immediately noticing a total tally of 19 notifications, all from you. had something happened? you didn't tend to message him so much. he immediately worried, hurrying to open the messages.

turned out he was right, something had happened.

it clicked almost immediately, with the tone of your texts expressing varying emotions as time progressed, and the date above the messages confirming his suspicions; it was your birthday today, and jeonghan was hung over at his best friend's house. he had no idea how he'd been so irresponsible. he knew he'd be a bit later than usual, but he was so sure he'd still make it home to you before midnight. but that had clearly been wrong. jeonghan dreaded it, but he decided to call you, to at least assess if your mood was as sour as the messages showed.

you picked up within three rings, immediately voicing your concerns at him.

"jeonghan? are you okay? you didnt come home last night," okay, you were worried about him! that was a good sign, right?

"i- angel, i'm so sorry. i'm okay. time got away from me and i ended up blacked out at shua's. shit, i'm so sorry, angel. i'll-"

"were you just drinking the whole time?", you paused, sighing before continuing, "you couldn't even message me or anything? you ditched me today of all days to get black out drunk with your friends? are you serious?", you paused again, not giving him enough time to respond, "you made me spend my birthday worried you didn't make it home. with no communication. jesus christ, jeonghan ..."

"angel. fuck. i'm so fucking sorry. i'll come home right now. it's still your birthday! let me make it up to you, yeah? i'll do whatever you want, just-"

"you know what, han? ... just stay there. we can do this some other day. i'm not really in the mood right now. i'll call you later today, okay? love you."

"wait, angel, no. just let me-"

he wasnt able to complete his sentence, as he was met with a beeping sound, informing him the line was disconnected. he stood there dumbfounded at what had just happened, not knowing how to react.

"man, you're fucked," chuckled joshua, who had heard the whole conversation.

yeah, he had fucked up big time.

joshua -

today was a terrible day. well, no. it was an amazing day actually. it was your birthday. it shouldve been an amazing day. except due to uncontrollable circumstances, your boyfriend joshua had to be away from you for the entirety of the week. there was an award show going on overseas, in which your boyfriend and the rest of seventeen had to be in attendance.

he had planned a beautiful day for you, really. he had wanted to spend the whole day with you, tending to your every need. he was going to wake you up with breakfast - prepared by himself, of course. then he would take you out to a secluded restaurant to ensure privacy. he had even planned to give you a serenade (he knew you would just call him corny, but could be be blamed for being in love?). he had communicated all this to you as he lamented his sudden absence to you a week before the day of his departure. you had accepted it, being touched by the mere thought. he'd promised you he would still be with you on your special day. although the award show was that same day, he promised to come back to the hotel as soon as time would allow and provide you with his company even if it was only through the phone.

and now it was that time. seeing as he was in japan and you in his home back in korea, there was no timezone to worry about. you'd simply have to wait at home for him to return and give you a call. it was now 6pm. it was understandable he would still be busy. you knew he had packed rehearsals all morning, so his only chance to call you would be later in the night. he had still sent you a few messages congratulating you on your big day and reminding you to be ready for him at around 8pm.

it was now 8:33pm. you had expected him to be a bit late, so you didn't mind it. the award show had been live, and it had ended at around 7:30. however, you knew it would likely take him a while to get ready and to get back to the hotel. so you waited patiently, knowing your boyfriend to always stand by his word.

it was at 9:33 that you began to worry. you had already sent him a few texts, not wanting to bother him in case something was going on. you pondered about texting his members just to make sure everything was okay, but decided against it. you didn't want to be pushy.

it wasn't until the clock hit midnight that you'd given up. by then you had already called a few times, only being met by his voicemail. at 12:18 you called his manager, knowing that was your last resort. the response you received was disheartening to say the least. he had informed you that your boyfriend and his group had been taken to an after party, claiming it had been a last minute thing, but that they'd all seemed pretty enthusiastic about it. you decided not to voice your annoyance to joshua's unsuspecting manager, instead choosing to go to sleep, sad and dejected.

the next morning when you woke up to 28 messages and 5 missed calls from joshua, you turned off your phone, disregarding him in the same way he had you. happy birthday to you.

jihoon -

despite popular belief, jihoon was not as emotionally constipated as he seemed. he was a great boyfriend, always making sure you felt loved and tended to. you were always one his top priorities, so he would do his best to spend as much time with you despite his packed schedule. you were also one of the only people who made him want to clock out at the end of the day, knowing you'd always be home waiting for him with open arms. jihoon, however, still had the tendency of sometimes holing himself up in his studio. during these periods of time, jihoon would cut off most contact from the outside world, being hard to reach for a few days as he stayed over at his studio without ever making it home.

this week was one of those times. jihoon never really scheduled these occasions. they'd just somehow end up happening whenever he had a spurt of inspiration, being able to conjure an entire series of songs he believed would perform well together. he liked to keep things organized, after all. any time he disappeared for over 24 hours, you could safely assume he was in his studio, not even allowing himself the simple pleasure of going on his phone to message you. for entertainment, he would sometimes allow himself some anime in between work, but not much more than that. he'd still leave the studio occasionally to show up to dance practice and such, but he would not interact with anyone other than his members, his manager, and maybe some staff if need be.

he knew this might be a bit too much, but it was all part of the creative process. as of today, it had been three days since he had left the hybe building, having given his manager full control over his phone as he wished to remain as productive as possible. he knew that one single text from you and he'd haul ass back home, too lost in the bliss of your presence to get himself to do any work. he missed you, of course, but this was not your first rodeo. the two of you had gone through this before, and it seemed like you accepted his weird work habits, having never complained nor shown discomfort over them. which was why he was quite shocked upon finally exiting the building four days later and calling you up in order to finally check in on you, but not finding the usual response.

the first thing he did as soon as he got his phone back was he call a few times, but he had received no response, which was quite strange from you. he knew it was kind of hypocritical to expect an immediate response considering he had gone off the grid for a few days, but he also knew you were usually free at this hour, so he had expected the usual reaction in which you'd jokingly curse him out for ghosting you followed by an invitation to come over.

he decided then to open his imessage, choosing to instead text you and maybe check in on any of the notifications that never arrived due to having kept his phone muted and away from his reach for the past few days. that was when he realized his grave mistake.

from: my love ❤️‍🩹

(sun) baby

(sun) babyyyy

(sun) where are you? i thought u were gonna sleep over tonight? did u forget about tomorrow?

(sun) okay i called u and ur not picking up im gonna assume ur busy. ill call u again tmrrw then. gn hoonie <3

(mon) okay i gave u most of the morning but its 12 now ... i assumed you'd come back yesterday night. are u at the studio?

(mon) are u rlly holed up there today of all days?? we talked about today last week.

(mon) baby :((

(mon) i dont wanna bother u. take ur time. call me whenever ur done i guess :(

that was when your texts had stopped, two days ago after you had seemingly realized he did not have his phone on him. he also noticed a few missed calls from you during those two days, halting upon the second day of no responses from him.

it had not clicked at first, until he noticed the date above the first text, detailing a day before your birthday. the rest of the messages were sent on the date itself, stopping that same day at his lack of response. the realization made jihoon stop in his tracks. how could it have slipped his mind? not only had he forgotten but he had literally left you in the dark during your special day, even continuing his lack of contact for the next two days. his spiraling thoughts were interrupted by you finally calling him back, something that filled jihoon with hope that you weren't angry at him.

"jiho-"

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry. i swear to you it just slipped my mind. i'll go home right now and make it up to you, i promise," he interrupted you before you could say anything.

you paused before responding, "jihoon. was work that important? was i that easy to forget? i respect your job, but you decided that day of all days?"

"it wasnt on purpose! baby, please just let me- let me come over and i swear we can have the day together. ill take off tomorrow too. the whole week! im so sorry."

"im ... im not really in the mood to see you right now, hoonie. it's been three days. i thought about just barging in your studio, but i didnt want to be that type of person. i had the stupid hope that you'd show up, that it wasnt that easy to just disregard me, but i was wrong. clearly."

"baby ... im so so sorry. i .. i'll give you your space. can i .. can i see you tomorrow then? please?"

"i'll call you to let you know, okay?"

jihoon held his breath at this, but quietly accepted your request, "i .. okay, baby. i love you."

"yeah, love you too," except your tone was cold, followed by the beeping of the phone, signaling the call had been disconnected.

seokmin -

many people knew seokmin as the embodiment of boyfriend material. or that was at least what many of his fans called him. in reality, he was even better than what cameras showed. he was the nicest, most respectful boyfriend imaginable, always providing you with everything you could ever need and more. he'd come home with flowers on a regular basis, he'd call you every single day to check in on you. he'd make you breakfast any time he had to leave before you, wanting to make sure you were well fed before a new day. he'd go above and beyond on any and every ordinary day in order to show you his utmost affections for you. don't even get you started on your birthday, which was a national holiday in seokmin's eyes. a day dedicated exclusively to celebrating the birth of his beloved? sign him up! nothing beat a day in which he could freely express all types of love towards you. he was over the moon every 365 days, knowing his favorite day would come again and again.

he had a huge day planned for you this year. there was a carnival in town, so he had planned to grab his manager and sneak out there with you for an hour or so before taking you back home. he also planned a cute moonlit dinner out on his balcony upon arriving home. it was all perfectly romantic, just like every other of his gestures towards you. he had the day marked on his calendar, only counting down the days until it finally arrived.

unfortunately for you both, your birthday landed on a work day for seokmin, who actually worked every day, really. but it was fine! seokmin had planned around that. he had his regular rehearsals plus a public appearance at a fashion show in the evening, along with a quick appearance at the afterparty, but after that he was all yours. he had to stay at the dorms this past week, having an extremely packed schedule, but he had made sure to text you a huge good morning paragraph detailing his love for you and how thankful he was you were his (just usual seokmin behavior, to be honest).

the fashion show had passed by quickly, having only taken a few hours. the after party, however, had been dragging a bit. it was now 6:04pm. he had promised you he would be home by 6:30, giving you enough time for the quick outing he had planned, plus a romantic dinner afterwards. he knew he still had time, but he was still worried he might not be able to follow through with his plans. the last thing he wanted was to be late. he currently had no way to communicate with you either, as his manager had possession of his phone while he was in such public schedules.

he lingered a little, making conversation with anyone he knew. there were many familiar faces, with a majority being that of actors who were also ambassadors of the various luxury brands at the event. he even saw a few actors he had been dying to meet. he felt badly at having such a good time while you were at home probably awaiting his return, but that thought left his mind as soon as a few of his musical performer friends approached him, engaging him in conversation. if there was anything seokmin was, it was overly friendly. he never said no to a conversation with friends, always being the energy maker in any and every relationship. however, it was easy for him to lose track of time and space whenever he found himself in conversation with friends, which was how time once again got away from him.

seokmin hadn't realized time had escaped him so quickly until his manager came up to him, quietly interrupting seokmin's lively conversation with his friends to inform him that his phone had been vibrating nonstop. fuck. he completely spaced out. checking his phone, he realized it was now 8:47pm. how had time passed by so quickly? he wad a bit buzzed, but he had no idea how he got caught up in conversation for so long. it was now too late to take you to the carnival, but he could still make it home for the romantic dinner. yes, okay. everything was fine. or at least that's what he thought until finally reading the 10 unanswered messages on his phone (while wincing at the 6 unanswered calls, also from you).

from: my love 😍

(5:32) cant wait for tonight baby <33

(5:32) i even bought a new dress hehe hope u like it ;)

(6:38) baby, are you gonna be running a bit late? it's fine, no rush! just pls let me know so i dont worry haha

(6:49) minnie ... is everything okay?

(7:14) minnie :(( are you coming soon?

(7:45) okay i called u a few times now ... do you not have ur phone on you? idk ur manager's number baby idk how to reach u rn :(

(7:53) they close the carnival at 8, i guess thats not happening anymore is it

(8:16) its so unlike u to keep me in the dark like this. i checked ur location and ur still at the event .. im assuming it ran late?

(8:23) its mean of u to keep me unaware of whats going on minnie

(8:35) okay nvm. u can just stay there. ill see if one of my friends wants to go out. goodnight.

the messages kept getting worse the more he read. he couldn't believe it slipped his mind like this. he planned it for weeks, even adjusting his schedule for it. and now he had ruined it all just because he felt like catching up with some friends.

he wasnt sure what to do. he had kept you in the dark all night, not even letting you know he wouldnt have his phone on him for a majority of it. he knew this was just an accidental slip of his mind, but that still didnt remove the way he hurt you. all he could do now was run home and await for your own return, hoping that you'd understand his mistake.

seungkwan -

such an outgoing guy like seungkwan always had high demand. they did call him the energy maker for a reason. his presence would always light up a room, which was one of the things you loved most about him. you'd met him in a very public setting, being able to witness first-hand how well he got along with, well, everyone.

however, his outgoing personality did come with some faults. due to having such high demand among friends and colleagues, it was sometimes a bit difficult to share seungkwan. yes, he was not yours per say, but he was your boyfriend. you liked to think you had special privileges that gave you exclusive access to his company that not everyone else had. and you did. seungkwan always gave you top priority when it came to sharing his time. he'd always let you know how much he cared for you, always babying you and tending to your every need. there was nothing in this world he loved more than you, his beloved, which was why it was easy for him to put everything aside whenever necessary.

now, you were not one to hog your boyfriend. you never wanted to be that person who insisted on having access to your boyfriend 24/7, nor would you ever want to keep him away from his friends. it was with this mentality that you had let your boyfriend know it was fine if he had previous engagements on the day of your birthday, letting him know that you'd be more than happy that day as long as he came home to you for a nice night together. he'd informed you that he'd be done with work that day at around 4pm, letting you know that he'd pay a quick visit to some of his 98-liner friends afterwards before going home to you. he had apologized to you for the bad timing over and over again, telling you that this was the only day they all had a day off all at once and would not be able to to gather for a few months after that. he'd insisted he would be quick, wanting nothing more than to head back to you as soon as possible. you'd assured him it was okay, being happy he'd be with you on your special day at all.

so now you were waiting. you'd spent part of the day with friends and family, not having seen seungkwan since the prior day due to his stay at the dorms this past week. you didn't mind this, though, as you were used to occasional separation due to his career. he had sent you a message in the morning, wishing you a happy birthday and once more confirming he'd be back home soon, prepared to celebrate your day. when it became a bit later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to continue to wait, not wanting to be pushy while he was with friends. when it became a lot later than the time you'd agreed, you decided to message him. but your messages went unanswered. you then began to call, receiving no response. it went like this until around 10pm, when you had finally chose to just change into your pajamas, only to be interrupted by a call from the man himself.

"baby! i'm so sorry, i just got your messages. i lost track of time, i swear! eunwoo and mingyu called me up while i was with my friends, and they were on live, so i had to go or else it'd look bad. don't be mad at gyu! he had no idea. i was supposed to just stay for a bit, but the live kept on dragging. i swear im on my way right now, i'll be there in-"

"kwan," you sighed, "not even a text? i dont understand. i didnt want to be pushy but .. today? i cant even lie to you. i'm disappointed."

"baby .. i'm so sorry. i completely spaced out. it's totally my fault. i got too caught up with my friends and then when mingyu called, i was too buzzed to even think straight. i- im sorry. i love you. please don't be mad," you could hear him pout from across the line, a bit frantic as he explained.

you sighed again, frustrated since you did tell him it was okay for him to be with his friends, but still sad he had forgotten you so easily, "i'm not mad, kwannie. just sad. i wish you'd called me to let me know you wouldnt be here at all today."

"but i will be! i'm heading there right now, baby, i swear!"

"i dont ... i dont think i wanna do anything anymore, kwan. im sorry," you felt childish and immature, but you really did not want to see him right now. you knew your emotions would only get the best of you. having your boyfriend choose to be away from you on your birthday was beginning to get to you.

"oh," he paused for a beat before continuing, "i- i understand. can i ... can i come over tomorrow morning, then?"

"you have work tomorrow. you have work every day, kwan. you dont have to-"

"please? let me see you tomorrow?"

"i- yeah. okay. i'll see you then."

"thank you ... happy birthday, my love. i love you. please dont forget that."

"love you too, kwannie," you felt sad as you said it, but you knew you still meant it. you just needed to sleep on it to ease the disappointment. or so you hoped.

[imonanotherlebel]

"What are you wearing right now?" Prank on bf seventeen.

Maknae line

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Warnings: Highly suggestive, Minors DNI

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Dk

Mingyu

The8

Seungkwan

Vernon

Dino

[heennnngggggarae]

7.27 pm

A/n: This was supposed to be posted on Seungkwans birthday but time got the best of me :(, anyway HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY OUR DEAREST BOO

You still remember the conversation you had with Seungkwan about you buying kotatsu like it was yesterday.

“You bought a kotatsu?”

“Yes and I would really appreciate it if you help me get it inside right now, and stop using that judging tone with me,”

Seungkwan sighed before grabbing the end of the short table and dragging it inside, before placing it sideways beside the coffee table.

“We’re not going to be able to use this, you know? There’s literally no room for this,”

He gestures towards the kotatsu, wearing that expression of his showing his dislike towards something. 

“I’ll make room somehow, and since you don’t like it, I better not catch you using it,”

The way he rolls his eyes made you certain that he didn’t care for your empty threat. And now spotting him getting cozy with your kotatsu while peeling tangerines and watching the tv makes you want to snuggle with him, but you can’t lose the once in a lifetime experience to tease him.

“What are you doing on MY kotatsu?”

The way Seungkwan whipped his head to you with that speed makes you a little bit worried that he’ll give himself a whiplash.

You cross your arms waiting for his explanation while he looked between the tv and you.

“Well?”

“...”

He murmurs as you get closer to him, ducking his head to appear smaller.

“What did you say?” You ask him while holding a smile that’s threatening to show on your face.

“I said It’s cold and you're not home yet so I can’t snuggle,”

He said finally looking up at you with a pout on his face, while you’re beaming and smiling. You put your bags on the sofa before getting in the kotatsu. Your hand wrapped around his waist before you snuggle deeper to his neck.

“You’re teasing me earlier, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm, that was a rare opportunity for me y’know,”

Seungkwan sighs before focusing back on the tv, while his hands divide the tangerines in his hand and feeding one to you.