#unfortunately i’m fresh out of ribbons and medals at the moment

[harrypotterfuryroad]

friend started talking about how bad it’s getting for trans people but at least sex work is becoming more normalized

so i asked him in what context are most of the attacks on trans people happening

then he shut up

[sluttyten]

the cinderella search

summary: you’re a staff member at SM, and during the annual Halloween party, you go dressed as Cinderella. Enter Johnny as Prince Charming. You talk, you flirt, he falls in love, but you forget to tell him your name before the night ends, and thus begins his Cinderella Search.

length: 10,615

tags: near-strangers to lovers, bed sharing, fingering, dry humping, fluff, light on the smut compared to some of my other works tbh

Growing up, Cinderella had always been your favorite fairy tale. You just really loved the glamor and romance of the story, the idea of dressing up all beautifully and mysteriously, going to a ball to be noticed by the Prince. 

And once you grew up, you still had that fantasy tucked away in the back of your mind, made more real when you entered the idol industry by joining SM Entertainment as a staff member. You were just a minor staff member, not important enough to be a manager (though that was the dream), but you were around idols so often that the fantasy was there, prodding you in the back of your mind.

There were days when you dreamed of being swept up in a Cinderella-style romance with one of the idols in the company. 

“I can’t blame you one bit,” your close friend Jiwon tells you one day. She’s a makeup artist for the company; she’s seen their bare faces, seen them up close and personal, and having worked there for longer than you, she knows various artists under the company better than you do. “I won’t disagree with you at all that a secret romance with one of them would be amazing. Just like a drama. I want Kyungsoo to be my prince charming.” She sighs dreamily. “I can’t wait for the Halloween party.”

That’s exactly what you’ve been talking about almost non-stop since you first heard that it was happening this year. With the party not having happened for a few years now due to one thing or another, this year it’s come back with a bang, and when the memo was put out that every staff member was invited to come in costume as well, just as a celebration for how hard everyone’s worked, it’s all that pretty much everyone’s been talking about. You’re excited that you get to go, that you get to dress up as well, and what caused Jiwon to start gushing about D.O. is you mentioning that you wanted to go dressed as Cinderella.

“Promise we can get ready together?” She asks you. “I really, really want to do your hair and makeup, I can already picture it.” Jiwon holds her fingers up, framing your face between them. 

It helped that you already had the dress to wear for your costume. You’d spotted it a few years ago in a thrift shop, and because of your pure love for Cinderella, as soon as you saw the dress, you knew that you had to have it. Sure, it had been collecting dust in your closet for a couple years, but now you had found the perfect use for it at last.

The day of the Halloween party, Jiwon comes over just as she’d planned, taking as much of the day as she possibly can to make you up and style your hair to make you look like the Cinderella of her imagination. She’s just going simply, wearing all black with some cat ears, some whiskers drawn on her face, but most of her attention to detail is poured into her work on you. 

By the time she finishes the last touch, you’re ready to leave. Already you’re going to be cutting it close to showing up late, so as she drops her brushes back in the bag she brought, you grab your phone, and make for the door.

“Oh no, you’re not finished yet.” She snakes her hand around your arm, bringing you to a halt. Jiwon tuts at you. “Cinderella can’t go to the ball without her mask.” 

Like a true fairy godmother, Jiwon pulls a beautiful mask out of the makeup bag. “I saw this when I was shopping for my costume, and I knew it would just be perfect. You can’t be Cinderella and have everyone know who you are, that goes against the point of being Cinderella, right?”

She carefully sits the mask on your made-up face, ties the ribbons around the back of your head, trying not to disturb the work she put into your hair.

“Can we go now, fairy godmother?” You ask. “Before midnight, preferably.”

The fairytale vibe of the night truly hits home once you arrive at the party’s venue. Everyone’s in costumes, and at first it’s overwhelming because you can’t immediately distinguish the idols from the staff from the higher-ups in the company. As you and Jiwon step inside, you can only make out a few distinct people. 

Red Velvet’s Irene is dressed like an actual goddess, complete with an array of stars in an arc around her (an interesting choice that definitely makes sure no one gets too close to her). You spot Chanyeol standing tall over the group of people he’s talking with too. And then you see him.

Prince Charming.

Johnny Suh. 

He looks breathtakingly handsome, wearing a white uniform adorned with golden tassels and medals. His hair is gelled back from his face, and he’s in the middle of laughing at the princess beside him, though her back is to you. Johnny literally looks like a prince with his face full of sunlit radiance, and in that moment your heart yearns. You wish you had a Prince Charming, but it’s clear that this one already has his princess.

And then she turns around with a flip of her long, dark wavy hair.

You burst out laughing so loud that Jiwon hits your arm to make you quiet down. 

Hendery is dressed as a princess, clinging to Johnny’s arm as Jungwoo and Ten stand there with them, both of them laughing along with the costumed couple.

There are several other princesses you soon realize. Staff members and female artists have both dressed as princesses, and the more of them you see, the more you think that you’re not the Cinderella of this ball. There’s others that shine with more glitz and glamor than your thrifted dress ever could. So you mostly stick to yourself, seated at a table in the corner, sipping at your drink to avoid talking to a drunk coworker when he stumbles into his seat at the table.

You just watch the party, suddenly no longer feeling it because the best looking man here tonight is clearly Johnny Suh (which you’ve thought that numerous times before, but especially so tonight) and it’s obvious that everyone else thinks so too. He wins a prize. He has people coming up to him all night, fawning over him, running their fingers through the tassels on his shoulders.

“Stop pouting,” Jiwon tells you as she drops down into the seat beside yours. She sits a fresh drink down in front of you. “Just drink this down and come have fun with me. We can mingle and actually get the chance to speak to some of these idols we never work with.” 

You know she has her eyes on D.O. who’s standing in a clear line of sight from where you’re both sitting, holding an audience of a few people captive with his story.

“You go.” You nod toward him. “Here’s your chance, Jiwon.”

She frowns at you. “I didn’t spend so long making you look like Cinderella just for you to sit all glum in the corner. You look fantastic, darling, and if you don’t get up and show off that lovely dress and your beautiful face, then we can’t be friends anymore.” She folds her arms in front of her and pouts. 

“If I go get some more drinks, does that count?”

“It’s an improvement at least.” She sighs. “I’m going to try to talk to him. While I’m gone, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She eyes your coworker who’s slumped over in his chair now, starting to snore. “And make sure he doesn’t puke on himself.”

You have no intention of babysitting a guy who takes every opportunity to steal credit from you, so you definitely leave the table as soon as Jiwon walks away. 

You’re standing at the bar area, waiting for the man behind the counter to make the drink you’d requested, when someone comes up beside you, just a figure in the corner of your eye. It’s only when he speaks that you look up to see who he actually is.

“I think you dropped this,” Johnny says, and he’s holding up one of the satiny blue gloves you’d worn tonight. You’d taken them off while you ate, and you forgot you’d tucked them in the ribbon around your waist.

“Oh, thank you.” You incline your head and reach for the glove, but when your fingers brush Johnny’s, you pull away with your whole hand tingling. “I probably dropped the other one somewhere too.” You look around, searching the floor.

Johnny chuckles. “No, it’s still right there.” 

You feel a blush rising to your cheeks, and you’re grateful that you’re wearing the mask that hides most of your face. The other glove is still safely tucked at your waist, and as Johnny tells the bartender what he’d like, you pull both gloves onto your hands.

“Here’s your drink, Princess.” The man behind the counter winks as he says it, pushing the drink toward you. “And yours, Prince Charming.”

You take your drink and start to walk away, planning to head back to your comfortable corner to drink alone in peace, but then you notice Johnny just a step behind you. 

“I think you’re the only person dressed as a princess tonight that hasn’t come up to talk to me tonight.” He says, “Which is unfortunate, since I saw you the moment you walked in, and I wanted to come talk to you then, but Hendery wouldn’t let go of me. I think you deserved best costume; I’ve never seen a better Cinderella.”

His flattery works wonders on melting what nervousness you have in talking with him. Johnny’s all but a stranger to you. You don’t work closely with NCT, but on the few occasions you’ve gotten to work with them, Johnny was always such a large personality, so nice and funny and handsome. Maybe you definitely have a ridiculous crush on him. But it’s always been foolish and far-fetched.

This is the first conversation you’ve ever had with him, and you don’t quite make it back to that table in the back corner. Johnny drags you down to sit beside him at his table, and even though you’re surrounded by the other members, the way he’s looking at you as you talk makes it feel like it’s only the two of you in the whole building. 

You finish your drink, lose track of time, and by the time that the party’s really and truly ending, you’ve forgotten everything but the way that Johnny looks at you, the sound of his voice, and how much that you have in common with him. Maybe it’s ridiculous to form such a deep connection with someone at a party, especially when tomorrow you go back to being just a lowly staff member and he’s a world-famous idol. 

But Princess Hendery is the one to break up this intimate conversation. His hand lands on Johnny’s shoulder, and Johnny’s head snaps around. 

“Hyung, your ride’s about to leave.” Hendery pats Johnny’s shoulder, and then points down the length of the table to a man you recognize as an NCT manager. A tipsy Jaehyun walks by, his fingers twisting in the neck of Johnny’s uniform, and he leans in to whisper something in Johnny’s ear, his fingers slipping down to get a better grip on Johnny’s uniform, and then he’s dragging Johnny out of his seat, pulling him away out the door with their manager before you can get another word in.

You look around then, somewhat dazed at being pulled back into non-Johnny reality, and also slightly buzzed from your drinks, and you realize that the room has emptied out around you, only a handful of people remain. Including Jiwon. She’s bright red and grinning from ear to ear, leaning on a man in costume.

You refuse to let her make any drunken mistakes tonight, so you make your way over, loop your arm around her waist. “Come on, fairy godmother, it’s midnight and we need to get home before the spell wears off.”

Jiwon moans and groans, reluctantly letting you lead her out of the party at last, taking her home to pass out on your sofa.

And it’s a bit later as you fall into bed fresh from your shower with all the makeup washed away now, as you look happily at the photos you’d taken with Jiwon and some selfies you’d snapped several times throughout the night, that you tragically remember that you never gave Johnny your name.

By tragedy or fate or something else against you in the universe, you don’t get to see Johnny again before your position in the company takes you overseas. Not long term, just for a month. But during that month you build a lot of experience toward achieving your dream of becoming a manager for a group, getting your hands almost within reach of that prized promotion. 

And as for your Cinderella moment, you try to put it out of your mind, just as you’re sure Johnny’s done. Over a month has passed since the Halloween party, and you doubt he even remembers the Cinderella he spent the night talking to. Even if he does remember, you feel that any chance has long since passed for you to find him and tell him it was you.

On your first day back within the building, you’ve barely made it inside before Jiwon finds you. 

You hear her slippers slapping against the ground as she runs toward you, and then she loops her arm through yours in a vice. “Come with me. We need to talk,” she whispers conspiratorially, dragging you into the elevator with her.

“I didn’t want to tell you this while you were away dealing with everything, but,” she says excitedly in a hushed voice so no one overhears, “As your self-designated fairy godmother, I thought I should definitely give you a little heads up. Johnny’s been looking for Cinderella.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. “What?”

“Everyone’s heard him asking around casually about who’d been Cinderella that night, but you sneaky thing!” She pinches your side. “How did you manage to go the whole night without telling anyone who you were?”

Had you? You’d definitely talked with several other staff members at the start of the night, including your supervisor. At least one of them must have recognized you, right? But looking back now, maybe you hadn’t talked in particular about anything that would have given away who you were, and you don’t remember any of them calling you by name or even acknowledging that you were in their department. 

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it when the elevator doors open, and Jiwon walks out, still arm-in-arm with you.

“Look, it’s even a company-wide kind of meme.” She points at a bulletin board nearby where normally notices about events and deadlines and everything are hung. But now there’s also a sheet of paper with the word WANTED at the top, a badly pixellated image of the Disney version of Cinderella beneath that, and below that LAST SEEN: SM HALLOWEEN PARTY. In tiny font beneath contact NCT Johnny if you have any information. 

“What the hell?” You look around to see if anyone else is looking, and then you step forward and tear it off the bulletin board. “What are people thinking? What if this shows up in the background of a video?” Idols pass through here semi-frequently with cameras on them for one reason or another. You can only imagine the chaos of fans reacting to such a notice as this Cinderella one.

Jiwon laughs as you crumple the sheet up and toss it in a nearby trashcan. “At this point, everyone’s started assuming Cinderella was just a random party-crasher or a ghost since she hasn’t come forward.” She pats your shoulder comfortingly. “One of the aespa girls almost confessed to him that it was her.”

A flare of jealous heat sparks to life in your belly. “Well, it definitely wasn’t!”

“Of course not! She was dressed like a princess too, but not anything remotely Cinderella-esque.” Someone walks into the elevator area, so Jiwon drops her voice to a whisper once more as she tries to urge you, “You should go tell him that you’re his Cinderella! It would be so cute!” 

“Are you kidding?” You hiss, glancing over at the man waiting for an elevator. “Look at me, Jiwon. He’d take one look and laugh that I couldn’t possibly be Cinderella. I don’t look anything like I did that night.” You gesture at the very casual outfit you’re wearing, your drastically less made-up face, and just everything about you. You’d truly experienced some kind of magical transformation that night courtesy of the woman beside you. “I couldn’t tell him. Plus, it’s been over a month. Is he really still looking for Cinderella? I’d have given up by this point, like you said, just thinking it was a random party-crasher or something. Plus, if this is like an actual Cinderella moment, it’s not like anything romantic can happen between him and I. It’s against policy.”

Jiwon shakes her head, disappointed. “You’re such a party pooper, darling. And, you’re right, this isn’t a fairytale, okay? I get that. It’s real life and there’s actual consequences, so I won’t blame you if you don’t tell him. But come on, the risk is well worth the reward here, I would think. This job or Johnny? The choice is obvious to me.”

Maybe once you would have agreed. Choosing the literal man of your dreams (because Johnny has been showing up in your dreams with some amount of frequency ever since Halloween) would have been an easy choice before you’d actually landed a position in SM Entertainment. Even then, it wouldn’t have been a crazy choice in your mind. But more recently things have changed.

“They’re promoting me.” You shake Jiwon loose so you can face her properly. “That’s what the whole point of me being overseas for the last month was. Training me up, seeing if I had the potential to really be a manager. And that’s my dream job, you know. I don’t think the risk is worth the reward in this case. But damn,” you sigh, catching sight of a screen showing a clip from one of NCT’s music videos, Johnny’s face filling the screen. “I wish it was possible.”

To give up your dream job just for the possibility of a romance with an idol seemed far-fetched and stupid. 

So you ignore the Cinderella search. It’s not like you ever even see Johnny, so it’s not a problem at all.

Until the day comes when you officially receive your promotion. 

“You’re being promoted,” your supervisor tells you, “NCT needs a new manager, and you’re best qualified for the job.”

Your stomach feels like it drops to the floor. “What?”

You’d been expecting that you were going to get to help manage a new group, or at least maybe aespa. You didn’t think they’d throw you to the wolves that was the confusing mess of NCT’s schedules. So it was a nightmare wrapped in a thin layer of a dream, and right at the heart of it all was Johnny Suh.

You were so nervous on your first day as a manager (because of course, you couldn’t manage one of the other units, you had to be assigned to 127) that Johnny would recognize you on the spot, call you out on being Cinderella, and make a scene. But you were equally as nervous that he wouldn’t recognize you at all.

The latter turned out to be the truer though not entirely accurate.

When you were introduced to the members, Johnny gave you a kind smile, and then said, “Hey, I recognize you.”

Your heart stopped and then started beating at what felt like double-time. “You do?”

He nods. “Yeah, you’ve worked with us before, right?”

Ah. Your heart rate slows back to normal. “Yeah, yes, I have. Just a few times.” 

Then he repeats your name back to you as if making sure that he’s got it right, and an hour later you’re still thinking about the way that your name sounds from his lips.

That feeling doesn’t pass, not for a while. 

Slowly you grow more comfortable and relaxed in your role a manager for the group. You get used to the stunning presence of the handsome men. You get used to the sound of Johnny’s voice and his laugh. You get used to driving the members around, shuttling them to and from schedules, getting them what they need, managing them and managing your feelings.

And best of all, you never hear Johnny mention Halloween or Cinderella, which makes it much easier to put it all from your mind. Well, somewhat easier. Jiwon refuses to let you forget; she calls herself your fairy godmother all the time, calls you princess, teases you when you mention stories that involve Johnny, which is most of them because within several weeks of you becoming a manager for the unit, you and Johnny have actually grown quite close.

“Oh, come on!” Jiwon exclaims one evening as she stretches out on your bed. “I’m tired of all of these cute, funny stories about Johnny! I want gushy romantic, hot stories.” She rolls over onto her stomach and looks at you. “God, let me tell you, one time when I was doing their makeup the stylist had to make an alteration on his pants, and that man whipped off his pants with no shame and stood there in his underwear for me to do his makeup. Babe, I know you’re already mentally going through hoops to avoid thinking about him, but trust me that you would reconsider if you had seen his--”

You slap your hand over her mouth. “Don’t.”

“No need to sound so pained about it.” She pushes your hand away. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so hard. Yeah, you’re a manager, but you and him are fully grown adults. This is a stupid policy because from the stories you’ve told me, if you and Johnny were just alone for like an hour together, you would probably end up together.”

You roll your eyes. There have been times you’ve been alone with Johnny, driving him to or from a schedule. It wasn’t like there was undeniable sexual tension in that van or anything like that. And even if Jiwon means totally alone in a non-mobile setting, you doubt anything like that would happen, but you’ve never yet had the chance to find out.

When the first winter storm hits, you’re driving Taeyong back to the dorm from a solo schedule he’d had that had run long. It’s very late. Taeyong dozes in the passenger seat, you’re yawning every other minute, and as you enter the city limits you realize that it’s starting to snow large, fluffy flakes that are coating everything they touch.

The city’s been extremely cold lately, so you’re not surprised that the snow isn’t melting, just piling up, making it hard to see at times. 

By the time you reach the dorm, the roads are slushy and slick. Snow blows across the streets in waves.

Taeyong’s schedule had been a three-day event, so he has a few items to unload, and due to the sharp cold breeze and how deep asleep he’d been just moment before, you help Taeyong unload and carry his belongings up to the dorm. Your shoes squeak on the floor, and by the time you reach the door of the dorm, you’re both still shivering.

The door opens with a chime, and as you come inside, you see Johnny’s sitting at the kitchen table playing on his phone and eating cereal. Taeyong mumbles something, toes off his shoes, drops his bags, and just stumbles off to bed, too sleepy to even do anything else.

Johnny’s watching you as you let out a big yawn and sit what you’d been carrying down beside the rest. 

You run your fingers over your hair, brushing away the last snowflakes that cling somewhat intact to your hair. “It’s snowing pretty good out there. I haven’t seen snow like this in years.”

Johnny glances over at the large window of their living room. The puffs of snow float by, lit up by all the city lights, and he stands up, walking over to press his face to the glass, looking down at the street below and the rooftops around their building. Everything’s already covered in a pretty decent amount of snow. 

“It’s beautiful out there.” Johnny is pressed to the glass, looking out at everything. 

Before you can register what’s happening (it is very late and you’re half-asleep on your feet, so excuse you if you’re a little slow at the moment), Johnny’s walking back past you, grabbing his coat from the back of a chair with one hand, and taking your hand with the other. He guides you along by the hand down through the building, out into the falling snow. 

“What are we doing?” You ask, folding your arms around yourself as Johnny releases your hand once you’re outside. Shock at the situation kept you silent until then. “You shouldn’t be out here. You’ll catch a cold.”

Johnny laughs. “I’ll be fine. Come take my picture.” He walks out into the snow-covered street, tilting his head back to the sky, arms held out. The streetlight just down the road casts Johnny and the snow in a silver light, and he’s so beautiful in that moment that you’d be crazy not to take a photo, so you pull out your phone and start taking pictures of him. 

This photoshoot goes on for several minutes before you pause to check a photo you just took, and for your efforts of trying to be a good photographer, you get a snowball right to the shoulder. Johnny’s laugh is loud in the muted silence of the falling snow, and he only laughs louder when you shove your phone into your jacket pocket and duck down to form a snowball of your own.

The snow fight lasts until you’re both pink-cheeked, sniffling in the cold air, and neither of you can feel your fingertips anymore.

“I’m t-too cold to keep this g-going.” Johnny laughs and shivers, tucking his hands into his armpits as he walks toward you. 

“I - I should get going anyway.” Your teeth chatter together. “I still need to get home, and it’s late.”

“Come up for c-coffee,” Johnny suggests, his eyes lingering on you and the snow caught in your hair, wreathing your face. “You’re clearly tired and cold. You need some coffee.”

Damn your heart and Johnny’s good intentions. You follow him back up to the dorm, and while you shuck off your coat and wet shoes and damp socks, Johnny starts making you both some coffee. And minutes later, you’re still shivering as you clasp a warm mug between both of your hands, sitting next to Johnny while he swipes through your camera roll to check out the photos of him you’d just taken.

You know that you should leave. It’s not appropriate for you to just be hanging out at the dorm. You should put your coat and shoes back on, take the coffee to go, and head home so you can get some sleep before you have to work tomorrow. Just as you’re about to say something along those lines, your phone buzzes against the table and Johnny makes a soft, oh.

“What?” You lean closer, sitting the mug down on the table.

“It’s a weather alert.” Johnny looks up at you, and for a moment neither of you speak or move or breathe. You’re so close together right now. You can see all of the little water droplets stubbornly clinging to his eyelashes from the snow. You can smell the coffee on his breath and something a little sweet too. But then Johnny snaps his mouth closed and leans back a little, just putting some distance between you and him. 

He clears his throat, then says, “It says the roads are really bad, that it’s just going to get worse. You should probably just stay here tonight, and I feel like you’re going to argue with that, but honestly, it’s for your own safety. Roads are dangerous, plus you’re already cold and tired. That’s a bad combination. You’re just going to have to be back here in a few hours to pick us up anyway since hyung is gone.”

You’d forgotten about that. The manager that normally stays at the dorm with them is gone for the week. That’s why you had to be the one to take Taeyong to his solo schedule, and why you were going to have to be up earlier than normal for work tomorrow. Maybe Johnny has a good point.

Johnny looks away from you, back down at your phone, and he swipes away the notification, then makes a little frown. 

You look down as well, and there you see that your phone has gone back to the screen showing all of your photos, and there, just barely visible at the top of the screen, is a photo you’d taken of yourself in the Cinderella costume on the night of the Halloween party.

Johnny inhales and the silence as you wait for his exhale seems to last an eternity.

“You were--”

You push back from the table, already reaching to pull your shoes back onto your feet, forgetting entirely about your wet socks. “I’d really better leave.”

You’re halfway to the door, hopping on one foot, struggling to get your second foot into it’s boot, when Johnny loops his hand at your elbow, helping to steady you as you’d nearly just tipped over onto your face. 

“Please don’t leave.” He pleads.

You look up at him. Your foot thumps heavily down onto the ground. “Johnny.... please. I shouldn’t stay here, I could get in trouble with the company.”

His eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them before. “Please stay. It’s dangerous out there, I’ve said that already. If anyone has a problem with you staying here overnight for your own safety, then I’ll vouch for you. I’ll make the others vouch too.” His hand slides from your elbow down to your wrist, holding loosely now that you don’t seem to be in such a rush to leave. A slow, crooked smile appears on his lips. “And anyway, Cinderella, you’re supposed to leave a shoe behind, not your wet socks.”

You roll your eyes, but you smile as well. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

“That you’re the Cinderella I’ve been looking for for months now?” Johnny’s hand slips even lower on your wrist until his fingers are just clasping your hand. “Why didn’t you want to tell me? I had so much fun talking with you that night, and after we left I realized I hadn’t even found out who you were.”

You shiver now that your feet are back inside your wet shoes. 

Johnny clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Take your shoes off. You’re staying. Go on. Sit right there.” He points at the chair beside the table. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you dare leave.”

His voice is so commanding, you wouldn’t dare leave now. He walks out of the kitchen, and when he returns a moment later, he’s carrying a change of clothes for you from his own closet. 

“I know it’s your job to worry about us,” he says, holding out the clothes to you. “But please let me take care of you too. Don’t catch a cold. You can go shower in the bathroom off my room, put these on. You’re staying here tonight.”

You nod, accepting the sweater and slick basketball shorts. 

When you emerge from the shower several minutes later, feeling much more thoroughly warmed, the lights in the dorm have all been turned off, but Johnny’s sitting on the sofa now with his phone lighting up his face. It’s very, very late. He looks as if he could nod off right there, but as you walk closer to him, he blinks up at you. A smile breaks across his otherwise sleepy expression.

“What?” You ask, sinking down onto the sofa with him. There’s a blanket draped over the back, and Johnny immediately pulls it down over your shoulders. You clasp the edges of it together in front of you. “Why are you smiling like that? Are you feeling feverish or something?” You lift a hand and immediately check his forehead with the back of your hand, but he doesn’t feel warm.

Johnny, still smiling, reaches up to lightly bat away your hand as he sighs and rests his head against the cushiony back of the sofa, staring at you. “No, like.... It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

“You gave them to me.” You reply, amused at the dopey look on his face. 

“I know.” Johnny whispers. “You just look really good in them.”

Your heart flutters in the way that you know you shouldn’t let it. This is Johnny. You’re his manager. This is inappropriate to be feeling this way about him. It’s definitely inappropriate to be sitting on a sofa in the dark with him, wearing his clothes, having just showered in his shower using his shampoo and body wash. But it feels good.

You lean your head against the sofa’s back too, draw your knees up toward your chest, and you look right back at Johnny in the same way he’s looking at you. You whisper, “You should go to bed. We all have to be up in a few hours.”

He bites his bottom lip and then stretches out a risky hand to touch yours. When you don’t pull away or tell him not to, Johnny keeps going, turning your hand over, pulling it into his lap. He touches your palm, caresses your fingers, treating you like you’re fragile and delicate like a little princess.

“Johnny,” you whisper a few moments later when he’s still just holding your hand, making no effort to go to bed. “Go.”

“There’s so much snow out there.” He says after another few seconds. “There’s no way that we’ll still have our schedules tomorrow. By the time morning really comes, we’re going to be buried in. I was looking at the weather while you were showering, and it’s not showing any sign of stopping before at least tomorrow night.”

“Banking on your schedule being cancelled doesn’t mean you don’t have to go to bed.” Your hand shakes slightly as you lift it, trembling with the risky nature of what you do next. Johnny’s hair is soft and his face is pleasantly warm as you push a few loose strands away from his face. 

Johnny exhales at the feel of your fingertips just barely brushing his skin. “Come to bed with me. Haechan’s not here. He’s upstairs tonight.”

You noticed that as you crept into Johnny’s room to use that bathroom. Both of the beds were empty. 

It’s tempting to give in, to follow him into that bedroom and let the door close behind you as you get into bed with him. You’re sure that sharing a bed with Johnny would be very warm and comforting in this snowy cold night. But you can’t. 

“Johnny.” Your voice trembles ever so slightly. “I can’t. I’m your manager, and it just.... I could get in trouble.”

“You’re still shivering from the cold,” he argues, “Basically hypothermic. I’m just trying to keep you healthy, trying to save you from freezing. No one would know but us. If the others ask questions, I’ll make excuses.” He smiles, and that almost does it for you.

You shake your head, close your eyes, turn your head away from him so you’re not faced with the temptation. “No. I’m serious. You should go to bed. I’ll stay right here. Just here.” You pat the sofa. “I’ll be comfy and this blanket’s warm.”

“Fine.” Johnny sighs, and he stands up, still holding your hand. “But don’t think that you can sneak out, Cinderella. Okay?”

You squeeze his hand lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Johnny.”

He leans in so quickly that there’s no time for you to even protest before he’s pressing a kiss to your cheek. And then he’s gone, vanishing into his bedroom as you sit frozen on the sofa, looking after him.

It takes a long time to fall asleep after that. Just you lying there in the dark with the blanket tugged up to your chin, listening to all of the unfamiliar sounds of the dorm, watching the snow drift by outside the window, shivering in the chill air.

After nearly an hour of silence and cold and overthinking, you sit up, gather the blanket around your shoulders, and you tiptoe across the living room to the door of Johnny’s bedroom. 

When you reach the door, you stand there in hesitation, your knuckles hovering just inches from the door. You’re being silly. Ridiculous. You’re putting the future of your career in jeopardy by just standing here before his doorway and contemplating going inside. You shift your weight uncertainly, drop your hand to your side, consider turning back and walking to the sofa, but before you can move, the door swings open and you’re faced with Johnny’s chest.

You lift your gaze slowly to his face.

“I could almost hear you thinking through the door,” he says with a smile, and then he steps aside, “Why don’t you come in?”

“It’s just cold out there,” you mumble as you step inside, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “I was going to ask if you had another blanket.”

Johnny hums in a way that tells you that he doesn’t buy your lie one bit. He closes the door behind him, his back braced against it as he faces you. “I can’t believe that all this time you’ve been my Cinderella.” He shakes his head, gaze wandering over the shadowy shape of you.

His room is dark but your eyes are adjusted just enough that you can see him fairly well in the faint light coming in through the window. So you can see as he pushes away from the door, as he steps toward you. Your body tingles in anticipation, your fingertips go numb so you curl them into fists in your blanket, and Johnny stops right in front of you.

“It’s well past midnight, Cinderella,” he whispers. “The ball is ended, the magic spell is worn off, and you’re still just as beautiful and fascinating and enchanting as you were that night.” His hands come up to the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, fingers tucking underneath. Your grip on the blanket loosens even as Johnny starts to move the blanket.

It falls away, pooling at your feet.

“Johnny.”

His thumb brushes along your jawline. Your body feels on fire, your fingers burn with the desire to touch him too. So you do, curling your fingers at his hips, his skin warm under yours, and Johnny takes a shuffling step just a bit closer to you, his bare toes bumping against yours.

“Johnny,” you repeat his name, lifting your chin to look him in the eye. “Kiss me?”

He doesn’t wait for you to ask him again. Johnny leans in and catches your lips in a kiss. His palm rests against the side of your neck, his thumb still stroking at your jaw. When you try to press closer, to deepen the kiss, Johnny backs away.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, clenching your hands at his sides. 

Johnny chuckles, dipping forward to kiss your forehead. And then he kisses you again. He takes a step back, you follow, and another, and then he’s sinking down onto his bed, his hands moving to your hips to guide you to straddle his lap, not breaking the kiss as you do.

Making out with Johnny Suh is certainly not what you imagined you’d be doing tonight when you brought Taeyong home from his schedule, but here you are, sitting in his lap in his bed, his hands on your hips, and your mouth on his.

“Wait,” he mumbles, pulling back momentarily. “Let me put some music on or something.”

You don’t want to move from his lap, but you let him lean away, reaching back across his bed toward the pillows to grab his phone. He taps at the screen for a few moments, and then music—soft enough to not wake anyone but just loud enough to mask any sounds the two of you may make—begins to play over his Bluetooth speakers.

As Johnny sits back up, leaving his phone tucked beneath his pillow, you admire the sight of him. His abs. His chest. His arms.

You’ve seen Johnny shirtless before in dressing rooms, for photo shoots and video shoots. But seeing him like this, in the half light of his bedroom with the tingling reminder of his lips on yours, is a completely different experience.

Like a magnet, he finds you again. His mouth on yours, kiss unrestrained under the cover of the music, letting out tiny little moans as he kisses you. Each sound brings a smile to your lips, and after a few moments, you’re grinning into the kiss, twisting your fingers into his hair, and Johnny smiles as he fits his hands under your borrowed sweatshirt, his fingers chilly on your heated waist and belly.

His fingers shift higher and higher, and your breath hitches as he caressed your breast.

“Alright?” He murmurs, giving you a moment to answer while he kisses the corner of your mouth, skimming his lips over your jaw, down your throat.

You shiver, twisting your fingers a little more tightly in his hair, shifting just that much closer to him. You can feel every inch of him against you, your body burns and tingles, your heart racing in your chest.

“So good,” you moan softly, tugging lightly on his hair to bring his mouth back to yours.

Johnny smiles into the kiss, his thumb drifting attentively over your nipple. Slowly he eases backwards until he’s flat on his back and you lie against his chest, still just kissing him and yearning to feel his hands touching you everywhere, not just your breast. You shiver against him again, and Johnny is gentle as he rolls you under him, as he tugs the blankets up over your bodies.

“Still cold, Cinderella?” He teases, his nose bumping against your cheek.

You push a section of his hair back behind his ear, spend a few seconds lingering there, your thumb against his face. He’s so handsome, and you being here beneath him in his bed, it’s unreal. Like a dream. Like a fairytale Cinderella moment you never thought you’d have because he’s an SM Prince, and who are you? Hardly any better than a servant.

Johnny shifts to the side, looking down at you. “What are you thinking about? You’ve got that expression.” He lifts a finger and traces the furrow between your eyebrows.

“I’m just thinking how I don’t belong here.” You sigh, looking away to the window. Your hand is on his arm and you absentmindedly stroke over his sunflower tattoo, mirroring the movements of his thumb moving back and forth on your waist beneath the sweatshirt. 

Johnny’s lips touch against your throat, pulling a sigh from your lips, to which he asks, “What do you mean you don’t belong here? And don’t tell me again that it’s because you’re a manager.”

But that’s exactly why. 

“Stay here. With me.” Johnny withdraws his hand from beneath your sweatshirt. “If you feel like this is moving too fast, we can stop here. We can go to sleep. Just sleep.”

He moves back an inch or two, just as much as his narrow twin bed will allow, but you don’t want him to go far. You scoot closer again, still gripping his arm. Johnny smiles at that. You sink your head onto the pillow, look up at him. “I’ll stay.”

“Good.” Johnny brings his hand up, tracing his knuckles lightly along your cheek in a way that makes your heart pound and your toes and fingertips tingle in delight, in the need for reciprocation, to touch him and hold him too. But you bring your hands up to your chest, clench them into tight fists inside the sleeves of the sweater, will yourself to not touch him because if you do, you’re pretty sure you won’t be able to stop yourself from going further. 

“You promise you won’t run away after I close my eyes?” Johnny asks. 

“I promise.” You watch as Johnny stands up from the bed, and he hesitates then for a moment, looking down at you, his hands on his hips. You think, for a moment, that he’s about to tell you goodnight and sleep in Haechan’s bed instead. But he takes a deep breath, his thumbs tracing along the waistband of his sweatpants. 

“So, normally, I do sleep in my underwear. I get hot at night, so it’s just a lot more comfortable for me.” He explains, glancing away as he admits this. You have a feeling that he might actually normally sleep naked, but given that you’ve both agreed to draw the line at making out and some light touching tonight, being naked in bed with you might be a bit more than you wanted. 

You appreciate his unspoken question, a request for you to consent to him stripping to his underwear to sleep in bed with you. But it’s his bed, in his bedroom, in his apartment where you still feel you don’t entirely belong. You’re the intruder here. And besides--

“I like to sleep in my underwear too,” you tell him. “So it works out.” 

Beneath the blanket, you shimmy easily out of the silky basketball shorts Johnny had lent you, and as you drop them out over the side of the bed, you watch Johnny swallow, his throat bobbing even as he smiles a little. You watch too as his thumbs tuck under the waistband of his pants, and then he’s pushing them down, kicking them off, slipping back into the narrow bed with you.

You keep the sweater on, but the bare skin of your legs, from toe to hip feel so free beneath the sheets, and when Johnny’s knee knocks into yours, you feel it from the point of contact all the way through your body. You’re hyper-aware of him, more than you’ve ever been with anyone else probably.

And then you lift your leg a little, draping it over one of his so your knee rests between both of his. You prop yourself on your side a bit, a hand tucked under the pillow. Johnny faces you too.

“Goodnight, Cinderella,” he whispers. 

“Goodnight, Johnny.”

You don’t remember falling asleep. One moment you were listening to the music softly playing still from the speakers, to the even sound of Johnny breathing. And then you’re woken by the sound of your phone ringing while the sky outside is still a dim shade of gray.

Your phone’s in the pocket of the shorts on the floor, so you fumble around for a moment before finally fishing them out of the pocket. You stab at the button to answer the call, squinting against the brightness of the screen.

“Hello?” You mumble into the phone.

Johnny shifts beside you, his hand sliding over your belly where the sweatshirt has ridden up through the night. His thumb touches the lacy edge of your panties. You close your eyes and focus on breathing, on listening to whoever’s interrupted your sweet sleep so early in the morning. 

“I’ve got some good news.” It’s your boss, the one who makes all of the big calls. “Schedules are cancelled for the day, that’s the official news. The city’s snowed in, so you can stay home today.”

You can’t believe Johnny was right about that. You’ve never had a day where you heard of their schedules being cancelled because of the weather like this, but you accept it, thank him for calling to let you know, and when you end the call, you lie there in the silent darkness of the bedroom.

At some point in the night, the music has ended. It must be very early, with the sky still so dark outside the window, but even in the half-light you can still see snowflakes drifting by. 

Johnny’s fingers twitch on your belly, his pinky finger stroking along the top edge of your panties. You turn your head to look at him.

His eyes are still closed, but you can tell that he’s awake.

“Who was that?” He asks after a few moments, his voice soft and rough at the same time, drenched with sleep. 

“You were right. The day’s schedules are cancelled.” You lay your hand over his. You’re half-tempted to move it just because it’s driving you to distraction, but at the same time you don’t want him to stop touching you like this.

“Mm, perfect.” Johnny opens one eye to look at you. “Now we can just sleep for the rest of the morning. Stay in bed.”

You want that. There’s nothing you want more right now than to stay here in bed with Johnny. “I should probably go let the other boys know. Tell them to turn off their alarms. To stay inside today where it’s warm.”

The tip of his pinky makes it just beneath the edge of your panties. Your nipples are hard, and you’re glad you’re wearing the sweatshirt so he can’t tell how just this tiny touch is affecting you so greatly. But it’s something in the way he’s looking at you right then--his bottom lip caught beneath his teeth, his eyes on your parted lips--that tells you that somehow he already knows how aroused you are.

You almost close your thighs, squeeze your legs together to do something about that burning need rising between your legs. But your one leg is still draped over Johnny’s, your calf against his. And when you move it just a little, the friction of your skin against his has Johnny breathing more deeply.

There’s a buzz running under your skin, zipping through your veins, and in the moment you forget everything else but that feeling and Johnny making you feel it. 

Your hand covers his on your belly, and you apply just the lightest amount of pressure. His fingers slide so eagerly into your panties.

His breath sounds unsteady, and you’re sure yours does too.

“I’m gonna be so honest right now,” he tells you, his voice barely more than a breath. “I’m so hard, baby. The second you made that little whimper, shit, I felt lightheaded.” You don’t know what whimper he’s talking about, but you don’t care. His fingertips are edging lower and lower inside your panties and in a second he’ll be touching your clit and that’s all you want right now. You almost buck up into his touch.

You grip his wrist before he can, and Johnny freezes. “We don’t have any music,” you tell him. 

Johnny smiles. “Guess you’ll just have to try to keep quiet then, won’t you?”

“Guess you should kiss me again then.” You reply, and Johnny’s only too pleased to satisfy that request.

The moment his mouth is on yours, he’s dipping his fingers lower, his middle finger touching your clit, and he gasps lightly as he feels the heat of your wetness coating his fingers. You can’t believe you’re doing this with Johnny.

He rolls closer, and as he does you can feel his erection against your thigh. 

“You want me to finger you, baby?” His words flow over your lips, swallowed right down by your eagerness. You nod. “I want to hear you say it.”

A new wave of heat bursts in your belly at Johnny’s dominant tone. “I want your fingers, Johnny.” 

He smiles as he kisses you now, pressing his long middle finger inside you in a way that would have you loudly gasping except for his mouth sealed over yours. Johnny curls his finger just right, his palm smoothly moving against your clit as he thrusts his finger inside you, soon adding a second then a third. 

You’re openly panting and moaning into his mouth as he fucks you on his fingers. His other arm is wrapped around your back, bracing you against him as he works you quickly toward an orgasm. His erection is against your thigh, and occasionally you notice him grinding against you, thrusting forward to help with what he needs. But most of his attention is on you, making you feel good.

It’s still some time before dawn when Johnny brings you tumbling over the edge of your climax. Your thighs close around his arm, his fingers still pumping inside you, and you bite his tongue as you cum, and that just makes him moan. 

You’re still shaking from the ecstasy when you break the kiss to drop your head to his shoulder, your breath coming out in shaky puffs.

Johnny kisses your forehead, his damp fingers pull out, slipping out of your panties to rest against your thigh, the other hand strokes your lower back, a relaxing weight keeping you resting against him. You try to move a hand down, wanting to touch him too, but Johnny makes a noise.

“You don’t have to.” His damp fingers close around your wrist. “I’m fine.”

“You’re still hard.” You raise your knee a little so your thigh brushes against where his dick is still full in his underwear. 

His eyes flutter for a moment, his hips grinding forward. 

You lift a hand to touch his hair, tugging lightly to bring his lips to yours as you tilt your head back. “Let me make you feel good, too, Johnny.”

Johnny slides his body over yours smoothly, his body bracketed perfectly by your thighs. You tangle your arms behind his neck, kissing him like your life depends on it as he grinds against you through your panties. 

You can feel him very clearly now. Every inch of him. You wish he was inside you, stretching you wide open, filling you deeply with his length. You kiss him and trace all of those desires against his tongue. Your heart pounds with that desire, breath racing and your nails rake down his back as he picks a good rhythm. You’re going to cum again, you already know it.

“Fuck,” Johnny mumbles into the kiss. “I wish I could cum inside you.”

“Then fuck me.” You gasp back. “Where are condoms?”

His lips slide from yours, over your jaw to your throat. He groans. “In the drawer over there.” But you can tell from the tightness in his voice, from the broken staccato beat of his movements that he’s close, that he probably won’t be able to hold back much longer. Why wait? Why risk putting a pause on this if it might just ruin his orgasm?

You shake your head, tangle your fingers in his hair, guide his lips back to yours. Next time. He can fuck you next time. Right now you just want him to cum; you want him to get you to cum a second time.

A hoarse groan builds in the back of his throat, and Johnny thrusts one last time before he freezes, his cock twitching in his underwear, right against you. You can feel the wet heat of him spreading through the material right against you, and you buck your hips up, chasing your own orgasm even if it means grinding against Johnny’s sensitive cock as he comes down from his high.

Johnny’s mouth feels so soft against yours when you kiss this time as your orgasm crashes through you. Lazy kisses, bodies intertwined. Johnny doesn’t move from between your thighs, just holding himself above you, kissing you slowly and softly.

Morning is breaking outside, though with the heavy winter weather, there’s not too much of a difference visually. 

Eventually Johnny moves away, his hand slides up under your sweatshirt, just touching your bare skin as you both tuck yourself against each other and catch your breath. 

It’s still early. You could roll over to fall back asleep, but even as you consider that, you know it’s too late, you’re already wide awake. Johnny knows it too, so after a handful of moments, he kisses you and then sits up.

“I’m going to shower.” He stands out of bed, tugging uncomfortably at his underwear. You can see the damp spot spread over the front of them, and you hide your smile in his pillow. You made him cum in his pants. It’s cute. You close your eyes and replay that moment, Johnny pressed against your like that, the way he’d moved, the way he’d sounded as he came.

When you open your eyes again, he’s gone. The bathroom door is closed, only a thin sliver of light beneath it and the gentle patter of the shower turning on indicating that Johnny’s behind it.

The dorm is still thick with the sound of sleep, so you’re quiet as you redress and creep out of Johnny’s room. You stand to look out the window in the living room. The world outside is covered in thick snow that continues to fall. Your breath fogs the glass.  

Taeyong’s the first one up, stumbling out of his room in just shorts and a tshirt, shivering as he walks into the kitchen. He pours himself a glass of water, and when he turns around, he spots you and nearly drops the glass. He swears viciously before realizing it’s you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He covers his mouth. “Did you stay here last night?”

You nod. “The weather got worse and I was really tired, so Johnny insisted that I stay.” Taeyong makes a face that you can’t quite decipher before he hides it. “Your schedules are cancelled for the day, by the way. We’re snowed in.”

Taeyong nods. “In that case, I’m going back to bed.” He disappears back into his bedroom, and once more the dorm falls silent.

A shiver works its way down your spine as you yawn. You’re so tired, but you know you can’t go back to sleep, so you go make yourself a strong cup of coffee, watch the snow and think. You think about how what you did with Johnny was a mistake--it was great and you loved it and you can’t truly bring yourself to regret it, but it was a mistake nonetheless because if it gets out, if this becomes serious or ends badly, then it will reflect horribly on your career, and all of your dreams will be flushed away. 

You want Johnny. You love the way he makes you feel. But you know that you shouldn’t indulge. 

And for the next several minutes you sway back and forth on that dangerous line of thought--you want him, but you shouldn’t want him. Maybe you should just leave today, go home, and the next time you see him pretend that the events of last night and this morning never happened. Maybe he’ll forget you’re the Cinderella he spent months searching for.; maybe that was all just a fun game for him anyway, and he’ll lose interest now that he’s found you.

By the time the coffee finishes brewing, you hear the sound of movement in Johnny’s room as he leaves the shower. You pour yourself a mug, another one for him, and then you knock carefully (to not spill the coffees) on his door before opening it.

Johnny’s sitting in bed again, but when he sees you, he sits up and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Feel better?” you ask him, standing there beside his bed as you offer him one of the coffees. He nods and sips at his coffee, and you look over at the window again, at the steadily falling snow. "I guess I still need to figure out some way to get home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Johnny murmurs into his coffee. “You can stay here. Stay right here.” He lifts his face out of his mug just long enough to grab your hand and pull you down to sit on his bed. He doesn’t let go of your hand.

You say his name in a warning tone, but it just makes him smile. 

“What?” His thumb rubs gently over your knuckles. “Cinderella kept running away from the Prince because she was scared of her stepmother and stepsisters, right? Well, the Prince found her and they lived happily ever after. I like you. I liked you before I knew you were my Cinderella from Halloween. Finding that out last night or this morning or whatever, that’s just a bonus. I like you in case what we did earlier didn’t make that obvious, and if you like me too, well we can find a way to be together even if our wicked company tries their best to keep it from happening.”

You feel very warm all of a sudden, possibly its the coffee or the bulky sweater Johnny had let you borrow, or it could very well be that he’s confessing to you. Confessing in such a cheesy manner, too. He has feelings for you. For you, not for the Cinderella fantasy version of you. 

You push the sleeves of the sweater up your arms, trying to cool down some.

“Johnny.” You know that nothing good can come of what he’s suggesting.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he says softly. “Don’t say it like it’s a no. Don’t say it like you want me but you can’t. We already started down this path, so don’t turn your back on this, please. Say my name like you agree with me, like you like me too.” 

“Johnny.” This time you put your longing for him behind those two syllables. You try your best to make it sound like a yes. 

You want Johnny. You want this to work. And if he believes in it, then you want to too. But you won’t let this affect your dream. You’ll have Johnny and you’ll have your dream job too. You can figure it out as you go.

Johnny grins. “Yeah, that sounds much better.” He takes a drink of his coffee again, watching you over the lip of the mug, then says, “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“Coffee is hardly breakfast, Johnny. Please tell me that you know that.” You groan, prying the coffee mug out of his hands.

He shrugs and grins, watching as you sit his mug and your own on his bedside table. And then he reaches for you, pulling you into his lap so you’re face-to-face. Johnny kisses you slowly, deeply, and when he pulls away, he murmurs, “All I know for now is that you’re my mysterious Cinderella, you’re wearing my sweater, I can still smell you in my sheets, and we have no plans for the rest of the day. If you’d like, I’d love to make you cum again.”

Oh God, you think to yourself, what have you gotten yourself into?

a/n: so months and months ago back when I was accepting requests based off a prompt list, someone sent me a prompt for Johnny to use both “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.” and “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.” and thus this was born

I wouldn’t have taken so long to write this, and I’m really really sorry to the original requester (especially since I know I’ve messaged them and let them know it would take a while, but damn I don’t think either of us thought it would take this long, and I checked and they haven’t been active on their blog in a while, so now I feel bad) but I got distracted with writing the next part of the poly series (which was Adore You) and then forgot about this for a brief time, and then once I remembered I was deep into working on the poly finale, so I had to focus on it. But now I’ve finished that! And I’ve finished this too, so if the original requester is still around and sees this then I’m sorry it took so long please forgive me! I would tag them, but I’m not entirely sure if they wanted to be tagged in this or not!