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Side blog of Em (gent1es3xy) {24}

[cut1esdokyeom]

⟡˙⋆ Em ⋆˙⟡ // she/her // 01’ // INFP ⋆˙⟡

Welcome to my side blog of gent1es3xy !! ( ˶˘ ³˘)♡

This was created out of boredom and wanted to have something more Dokyeom focused ♡

I’ll be posting/reblogging random stuff :) - I don’t know if I’ll post any art projects just yet !

My bias line is Woozi (ult), Dokyeom, Wonwoo, and Hoshi <3

I am always open on yapping with others and answering questions hehe ♡

[gent1es3xy]

It was a doodle gift LMAO u can stop accusing me of murder now 😔

STOP IT IM FUCKING SCREAMING. I LOVE THIS DK SM WHAT. SHUT UP I LOVE HIM. I GENUINELY THOUGHT YOU WERE COOKING SOMETHING EVIL WHEN YOU DID THAT ASK AS REVENGE FOR THE AEGYO JAKE AHAHA

STOPPPP WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS AGHHH HES SO CUTE I CANT. OMG HIS BEAUTY MARKS IMMA CRY HES SO CUTE

[cut1esdokyeom]

I HAD TO REBLOG ON MY SIDE STOP

[gent1es3xy]

THEIR SIDE PROFILES ALWAYS MAKE ME GO BALLISTIC OMLL

(especially Woozi’s, i cannot stress that enough)

I NEED THEM SO BAD UGH

[chwedout]

prepare for trouble and make it double!

[gent1es3xy]

Seungkwan trying not to laugh is my favorite, they had me dyinggg

[seoksoonwoo]

relatable

[cut1esdokyeom]

Isn’t he so sweet guys <3 🥰

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Final Level: Win His Heart!!! - L.SM

🌻Who: Lee Seokmin (Seventeen) x female reader 🌻What: Fluff. Humour. Slow burn. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Suggestive (18+). DILFmin!!! 🌻Word count: 29k 🌻Warnings: Reader goes by a nickname throughout (it’s explained in story). Single dad Seokmin. Age gap (he’s 14 years older). Mentions of Seokmin’s kid struggling academically/ socially. Reader is very thirsty for Seokmin. Suggestive conversations/thoughts but no smut. Mentions of injury (side character). Mentions of weed (side character). Alcohol consumption. Brief illness (just colds). Kissing. Profanity. 🌻Summary:

The day Lee Seokmin first steps foot into your family’s arcade in all his beautiful DILF glory, he immediately steals your attention with nothing more than a friendly smile and a shy wave. In that very moment, you decide that you want him in very not publicly appropriate ways, even if you don’t know how to achieve that. Still, you’re always up for a new challenge.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

Masterlist

A/N- This was written for the Carats Ridge: A Small Town Collab hosted by @imnotshua , @100vern and @starlightkyeom. I’ve never joined a collab before, so this was a very new experience for me, and I’d like to thank our lovely hosts for allowing me to join! There are many wonderful stories to come out of this collab, and I’d highly recommend checking out the masterlist to see what’s coming!

The last thing you ever expected yourself to do as a 28-year-old, is befriend the 14-year-old who seems to spend more time at your family’s arcade than her own home. Yet, you quickly become her best friend, and she takes to telling you anything; except that her dad is a complete DILF and very single.

It must’ve been around two months ago now that you first saw Seoyeon wandering around Rainy Days Arcade curiously. She was alone, but she seemed content that way, with her headphones on and eyes roaming over the various games on offer to play.

Though, over the weeks following her first visit, you realised that she never had company, never tried to talk to the other teens her own age, and avoided the ones wearing the same school uniform as her. After two weeks of watching the lonely girl play on her own with barely a twitch of her lips when she won, she finally removed her headphones; you took the chance to talk to her and invite her to play a game with you.

To your joy, the day after you first spoke to her, she removed her headphones after spotting you a few games away. You took it for the invitation it was to join her, learn her name, and earn a few smiles that grew brighter with each round played.

Ever since then, Seoyeon has come out of her shell a lot. She still doesn’t talk to the other teens, but she does always find you out, and even happily talks to the other staff members of Rainy Days Arcade. Still, it’s clear you’re her favourite. Especially since the day that you pointed out that you are friends, after she admitted that she struggles to make friends and hasn’t befriended a single person at her new school despite a month of classes passing.

So now, you’re two months into being the best friend of a sweetheart of a shy 14-year-old girl, and only just realising that her dad is the single most attractive person you have ever laid eyes on.

Of course, you don’t blame her for not mentioning it; you can’t imagine anyone would ever call their own dad a DILF. But you still would’ve liked the heads up so that you can mentally prepare for the day Lee Seokmin first steps foot into the arcade and proves himself to be the man of your wettest and wildest dreams.

Honestly, you would probably find that very first moment you spot one another comical if you had been witnessing it and not starring in it.

For the past ten minutes, you and Seoyeon have been bothering Skater at the prize desk, where the young man has been trying to line up the new plushies on the shelf in the exact way you and Seoyeon instruct him. You’re pretty sure he can tell that you two are just messing with him and that you really don’t care how precisely the toys are displayed; but he’s always so placid and willing to do whatever you want, especially when you’re giggling away. He just keeps glancing over his shoulder at you with a dopily smitten smile and asks if he’s got it right yet.

Honestly, he probably had it right the very first second that he plopped the items down, but this innocent mischief is entertaining Seoyeon, and you really do love seeing her happy, so the façade continues.

Though, the second you naturally glance across the arcade to check that everything is still going as smoothly as last time you looked, you find a literal god on earth walking towards you. Seriously, there’s a glow behind him and ethereal music playing the second you lock your eyes on him. Granted, it’s probably coming from the mythical themed game he’s passing, but the timing is too perfect to dismiss.

He's looking around the arcade as he walks— clearly searching for someone— yet the instant his gaze lands on you, he stops in his tracks, and his eyes grow wide.

That music picks up, turns a little deeper, faster. The soft white blush blends into a sultry red halo of temptation around him. The world around you stops existing and you feel yourself drawn to this man so strongly that you take a step without thinking.

And then,

“Dad?”

All at once, the arcade bursts back to life around you. He’s no longer lit up and staring at you, but just another man— albeit a ridiculously gorgeous one— turning to smile at his daughter. Who happens to be right at your side.

“Hi, Snowdrop!” the man greets, brightening as he nears, attention on his daughter as you stare at Seoyeon with thinly veiled betrayal at her breaking the bestie code and hiding a hot guy from you.

You have to remind yourself that she is that hot guy’s teenage daughter pretty quickly, so that you can look like a normal human being when he looks at you with a polite, friendly smile and little wave, making you realise that Seoyeon is introducing you.

“This is Sunflower,” she says, motioning to you and you notice his eyes widen in shock, but she ignores him. “Sunflower, this is my dad, Lee Seokmin.”

“Lovely to meet you,” you say, offering your hand and internally melting as his strong, yet still gentle, hand clasps yours in an instinctive handshake.

“Yeah, you–you too,” he responds, leaning back as you reluctantly loosen your grip and end the polite greeting. “I uhm, sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I really thought Sunflower was a same-aged friend. Seoyeon never said that you’re…not.”

“Sorry, that’s probably weird, huh? A 28-year-old befriending your 14-year-old,” you respond with a wince, entirely understanding how creepy it probably seems.

“28,” he chokes out, eyes widening further.

“Yeah…”

“There a problem, man?” Skater, bless his heart, asks from behind the counter as he leans on it with the stern expression he only breaks out when customers are being a pain in the ass picking their prizes. “Sunflower is a sweetheart and has been looking out for your kid while you’re off being too busy to be a parent.”

“Skater!” you scold, turning to give him a warning look that he only shrugs at before straightening, crossing his arms over his chest, and clearly unwilling to apologise or take his words back. Honestly, you can’t blame him.

For two months, Seoyeon has spent hours at the arcade. She arrives every day after school and leaves hours later when you watch her get on the bus to head home so that you know she’s left safely. And on the weekends, she often spends whole days at the arcade; enough that you make sure you always work weekends now just in case she does turn up, so that you can keep her company— even if you know the other staff would keep an eye on her. You just feel protective of the girl and want to do your best to make her feel less alone.

“No, he’s right,” Seokmin says. “I work a lot, probably too much, but I’m working on it,” he says. “It’s a new town for us, so I’ve been setting up, letting people know that I’m a reliable choice, so I’ve not been the best father I could be lately. That’s going to change.” He looks at Seoyeon as he says this, eyes and voice so sincere that even though he’s not talking to you, you can’t help but believe him. “I promise, Snowdrop, I’ll make more time to be with you.”

To your relief, Seoyeon smiles and moves forward to hug her dad right there, careless of who sees. You know that she loves her dad; she’s mentioned him a few times and always sounds fond and happy, so you know he can’t be a bad guy, not really. But you had been worried that she was putting on a brave face, or that she gave him more praise than he deserved— considering how much time she’s with you and not him. Yet seeing the pair so easily and lovingly embrace like this, it’s clear that it’s not unusual, and Seokmin has raised his daughter to not be afraid to show affection without shame.

The father-daughter duo breaks the hug, but he keeps his arm around her shoulders, suit pulling tight over his raised bicep and you can’t help but wonder what you’ve got to do to get those big, beefy arms wrapped around you instead.

“Thank you for looking out for Seoyeon, Sunflower,” Seokmin says, but you only snap your eyes and attention away from his bulging arms when you hear your work name said. He’s smiling at you softly, looking very grateful, which turns a little bashful when you smile back, unable to remain straight-faced when he’s smiling at you. You think anyone who doesn’t smile back at him is probably a psychopath. “I really appreciate it, and I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong or have bad intentions. She’s mentioned you a lot; told me how kind you are and how you always make a point of talking to anyone who looks lonely here. I was just…surprised. I really did think you were closer to her age…not…28.”

“Well, I am,” you respond, not sure what else to say.

“You’re here so much with my daughter that your own family must be really missing you at home!” he says quickly, some guilt shining in his big eyes.

“My family?” you question. “I live alone.”

“Oh…sorry,” he gives you a sheepish, embarrassed smile, and scratches his neck with his free hand, the other mindlessly tapping his daughter’s shoulder where it rests. “I just…I thought I had Seoyeon late, and I was 28, so I guess I always assume people have started their families by that age.”

You laugh, shaking your head a little. “No, no kids for me at the moment. Maybe if I find the right person, but it’s not something I’m looking for or anything.”

“Ah, okay. That’s cool! To each their own!” he declares with a smile.

“Did you come to play, dad?” Seoyeon prompts, realising the topic is over and she can talk without being rude by interrupting.

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I finished work early, so I thought we could go out for dinner tonight?” he suggests once he’s looking at his daughter, who nods enthusiastically with a smile to match. As Seokmin beams back at her, you can’t help but notice the similarities in how bright they both are; the way their eyes sparkle in reflection of one another. It’s adorable.

Seoyeon darts around the prize desk to grab her school bag from where she always stows it out of the way under the desk. Unlike with all the staff members— except you— Skater never complains when she takes up some of his snack shelf, as he calls it; just smiles and lets her put her trust in him to guard over her belongings.

Even now, he just smiles at her and pats her on the shoulder in his usual friendly manner as she passes him. “See ya tomorrow, Bud,” he says.

“See you tomorrow, Skater,” Seoyeon responds. “See you tomorrow, Sunflower!”

“See you tomorrow, Bud,” you respond, earning a confused look from Seokmin. “Nice to meet you, Seokmin, come by more often. We’ll show you a good time,” you can’t help but inject a little suggestive edge to your words and judging by the way Seokmin stumbles slightly as his daughter tugs him away, he doesn’t miss it. He glances at you in slight alarm, then smiles shyly, waves, and quickly rushes after Seoyeon before her pulling makes him fall flat on his face.

“Damn, you got a thing for older guys for real,” Skater comments with a whistle from behind you as you lean back on the counter with a dreamy sigh, admiring Seokmin’s ass in his perfectly tailored trousers as he leaves the arcade. “He’s literally the same age as my dad.”

“Maybe you should’ve introduced me to your dad,” you tease, grinning over your shoulder at Skater.

“Pretty sure his wife would not approve of that,” he deadpans.

“Ah, the wicked stepmother,” you respond with an understanding hum. He makes a noise back, clearly disapproving of his father’s choice in wife. “He only married her last year; I’ve known you for four years now, Skate, I could’ve taken her place by now. Wouldn’t you like to call me mommy?” you coo, leaning over to pinch his cheek.

“God, not in that way,” he responds shamelessly, making you laugh as you push away from the counter. “You gonna bone Bud’s dad?”

“I’m gonna fucking try.”

“What’s the game plan?”

“Get his attention, get his dick,” you summarise. Skater just laughs. “Alright, back to work; those plushies aren’t going to display themselves.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Kinky fucker.”

Honestly, when you said to Skater that your first step in your game plan for getting Seokmin into your bed is “get his attention”, you really had no fucking idea how to achieve that. Despite the father-daughter duo having moved to town a little over two months ago, you haven’t once seen them anywhere but the arcade, and Seokmin only once.

Really, you were probably a little over ambitious with your plan. You probably should’ve added a research section where you subtly ask Seoyeon about her dad and where you can coincidentally bump into him— without her present— to not so subtly flirt with him.

Or at him, you’re not sure yet if he’d retaliate; he seemed more stunned than anything with your parting comment last time. You have no idea if his staring was because he had just found that his daughter’s new bestie isn’t a fellow teen but a grown ass woman, or if he likes what he sees of this grown ass woman. You’re hoping for the later, but not willing to hold your breath about it.

Regardless, you didn’t factor that into the game plan and even now, days later and after days of spending time with Seoyeon, you don’t amend your plan to include that step. As much as you would love to get your hands— and mouth, and entire body— on her dad, you respect the girl too much to use her like that. So, you just carry on like normal and pray for some god-like intervention to help you initiate level 1 of your game plan.

When you glance over your shoulder and notice Seokmin approaching you and Seoyeon, you think you may have to start praying more often, especially if this man is the god you’re praying to. You’d happily get on your knees to worship him any day.

“Hey,” he greets from a few metres away, smiling at you, and waves a little. You lift one hand from the plastic gun in your hands to wave back.

“Ha! Got ya!” Seoyeon cheers, making you turn to look at the screen and find that yes, Seoyeon has eliminated your avatar with a very effective headshot. You can’t even be mad about it; it’s a good shot. But that doesn’t mean you’re not going to play on it.

“Hey! No fair!” you complain, putting down the controller as she does the same with hers, docking them securely so that they don’t fall.

“You should’ve been paying attention,” she sasses, then giggles when you gawp at her.

“Are you playing nicely, Snowdrop?” Seokmin teases as he stops a few feet away, making Seoyeon turn and beam at him.

“Always!” she insists. “Are we going for dinner again? It’s a bit early,” she realises, face falling. “Do I have to leave?”

“Actually, I was thinking you could show me around and we can play some of your favourite games before heading off,” Seokmin responds, making Seoyeon light up.

“Yeah!” she enthuses and grabs Seokmin’s arm to start pulling him to one side of the arcade. “Let’s start over here, there’s so many cool games! You’ll love some of the prizes too.” Seokmin shoots you a little smile as he obligingly lets his daughter drag him across the building, getting lost from your sight amongst the consoles and lights, but you don’t mind. Not when Seoyeon looks happier than she ever has now that her dad’s joined her.

“Damn, tough luck,” Skater says, appearing behind you, making you jolt in surprise then turn to flick his upper arm, making him snicker.

“Have you just turned up?” you question, well aware that you haven’t seen or heard of Skater yet today until now, and Dip has been covering him at the prize desk all afternoon.

“Hit a pothole,” he explains, lifting his arm which, now high enough, you can see has a bandage wrapped around it. “It was nasty.”

“Gross,” you comment at the thought of how he must’ve messed up his arm on the road when he fell off his skateboard. Again. The guy spends more time on the floor than actually riding it, but he’s determined. Even if you’ve known him for four years– since he started working at Rainy Days Arcade— and he has only recently managed to figure out how to turn his skateboard without toppling right off. The poor, directionally and balance challenged fool.

“Yep. I did message the chat, but you never check it, so, not my fault, boss.”

“You guys talk so much fucking shit in there,” you defend with a groan as you both turn and head to the prize desk so that he can stow his skateboard— still clutched in his unbandaged arm— and relieve Dip from the cover. “It’s supposed to be work related.”

“How many people Sandman has bored to fuck in a day is work related,” he insists.

“Yeah, and why is Noodle in it? He doesn’t even work here.”

“He’s an honorary member!” Skater defends as he circles around the desk to prop his board up on the holder that you had installed on the back wall when he kept tripping over the board every time he had to move around. He really is a walking safety hazard.

“Who is?” Dip asks as she gets up from the stool, pushing herself up off of the counter she’s leaning against as if her entire body is heavy. Judging by the glassy look in her eyes, it probably does feel that way, but you know she’ll never shirk her duties regardless of how high she is. And at least she never smokes around work hours, only takes edibles, so she thankfully doesn’t come in smelling of it, because then there would be a serious problem. You’d hate to fire her for making the place reek of weed; she’s always the first to step up when customers cause issue. You think she probably enjoys kicking people out far too much for such a chill woman, but still, you don’t mind.

“Noodle,” you answer.

“Ah, they’re a package deal at this point, Flower; you know this,” Dip points out as she leans against your shoulder. “You smell good, that a new perfume?”

“Yeah, MD saw it in the store a few days ago and made her mums buy it for me, because it’s a sunflower bottle.”

“Aww, she’s so cute,” Dip coos and you can’t help but nod in empathic agreement. Your little cousin is the cutest little shit going. “When’s she coming ‘round next? I miss her.”

“Doc’s gotta come fix the table that asshole broke the other day,” Skater reminds, pointing to his right, to the wall that leads to the snack bar attached— though technically in another unit— with an archway further down the wall to let customers pass between. And also lets the scents of all the fried foods and sweet snacks waft through, enticing customers, but also staff.

“Mm, reminds me, I’m hungry. He better have made up a fresh batch of ‘slaw or I’ll cry,” she says, already toddling off to the snack bar, knowing that although you are their boss, you really don’t care if they eat or drink on shift— so long as they still do their jobs and don’t make a mess, of course.

“Where is your conjoined bestie, anyway?” you wonder, glancing around as if Noodle will pop up from behind one of the machines any second. It’s happened before.

“Probably getting cursed out by Frenchie for bringing another instant noodle pot into the kitchen and making him boil water for him,” Skater muses, once again motioning to the separating wall, in between neatening the boxes in the glass display case under the counter you’re leaning on.

“Makes sense,” you respond then pat the counter before pushing away from it. “Let me know if your arm plays up; I’ve got painkillers in the office.”

“I know.” Skater chuckles, looking at you amusedly. “Just say you’re making excuses to take me back there.”

“Ha, you wish,” you scoff.

“Yeah, I really do.” You just laugh, fondly rolling your eyes at his complete lack of shame about his ongoing crush on you, before you walk off to do the rounds; to make sure the customers are happy, and everything is running smoothly.

To your utter joy, it’s only two days before you see Seokmin, god of your libido, again.

It’s Sunday, and although Seoyeon had arrived an hour ago on her own, she had announced that her dad would be by once he’s done with his usual Sunday morning chores. She had also warned that it probably wouldn’t be until the afternoon, because he is really particular about the laundry cycle, and how to clean the kitchen.

Yet he steps into the arcade and immediately finds the pair of you only an hour after his daughter arrives. “Snowdrop!”

“Dad?” she baulks, turning to look at him in surprise; you take the chance to knock out her character. “Sunflower!” she whines as he hears the KO announcement and turns to look at you in betrayed disbelief.

“What? You should’ve been paying attention,” you retort sassily, reflecting her words from the other day back at her. She gawps at you, though breaks into giggles when you theatrically flip your hair over your shoulder, especially as it’s tied up in a half-hearted bun so there are only some wispy strands even hanging down to flip. You giggle along with her then take a step back. “I’ll let you two have your peace. You know where I’ll be if you need me for anything.”

“Why do you say that as if you’re ever in one place long?” Seoyeon deadpans. “You’re always wandering around.”

“I’ve got a lot of energy, okay,” you defend and glance at Seokmin, finding him smiling happily, seeming to enjoy witnessing you and his daughter interacting so playfully. “Anyway, if you need my stamina, come find me,” you finalise, making sure to lock your gaze with Seokmin’s suddenly wide eyes before you turn and head off.

You barely manage to make it a few games away before a regular customer, a kid barely 6-years-old— who turns up a couple of times a week with his teen sibling— pops up in front of you with the usual grin he always wears when he spots you. Without a word, you sweep him up into your arms, making him giggle madly; he happily bounces through the air as you carry him over to his favourite racing game to keep him occupied and safe until his sibling is ready to leave.

Although there are signs around the arcade stating that all children under 13 must always be accompanied by someone over 16— signs all of the staff adamantly stand by—, there are some exceptions to the rule. You had once confronted the boy’s sibling, only to quickly notice how drained the teen was, and you just knew that they already have enough on their plate. Ever since then, you make sure to feed the pair and play free babysitter for a couple hours a week to give the teen a break.

And honestly, even if you spend an hour straight sitting on that plastic chair until your ass goes numb, so long as the boy is innocently laughing away on your lap as he purposely veers off course, you’re happy to do it.

Rainy Days Arcade was started those decades back with the sole purpose of giving people a happy place to be and just forget about all the shit life throws at them, especially on rainy days when the outside world can feel a little sadder. You’re always so proud that even now, even when most people have game consoles in the comfort of their own homes, your family’s business can still do exactly what it was made to do.

“You know, I’m starting to think your plan might be working,” Skater comments one evening as the two of you lean against the prize counter, sharing a basket of Frenchie’s infamous dirty fries.

“Hm?” you respond, eyes glancing over the arcade yet inevitably returning to where Seoyeon and Seokmin are playing a game together. The man is clearly not at all experienced or skilled at any of the arcade games; he consistently loses with sulky pouts that shouldn’t be so cute on a 42-year-old man, though they always quickly morph into smiles upon seeing his daughter’s joy at winning.

“Bud’s dad,” Skater says, vaguely motioning with a floppy couple of fries towards the pair before abruptly leaning forward to shove the fries into his mouth before the topping can slip off onto the glass counter. “He keeps looking at you,” he informs around the food in his mouth.

“Heathen,” you say, giving Skater a disgusted look, which grows when he opens his mouth to show you his partially chewed food. “Gross!” you exclaim, shoving his shoulder while he laughs, though thankfully, with his mouth shut.

“His seduction techniques leave a lot to be desired,” Noodle’s voice suddenly announces, making you both look over the counter to find the young man standing there, helping himself to the fries as if he’s been present for ages already. You hadn’t even heard him approach, but at this point, you’re used to him appearing like some weird, noodle-obsessed entity and only react to slap his hand away when he reaches for more. “Hey,” he complains, pouting at you. “You’re sharing with him.” He points to Skater as if they’re not best friends and have been— you’re pretty sure— since they learned to crawl.

“I’m her favourite,” Skater declares.

“He dropped his burger, I pity him,” you correct and Noodle hums in understanding, picking up his pot of freshly steaming instant noodles from the counter to mix them and test if they’re done. As if the guy doesn’t know the precise cooking times for every single brand of instant noodles at this point.

“How’s your plan going?” Noodle asks a moment later as he leans back against the counter while he eats, eyes quickly finding Seoyeon and her dad— the pair now on a different game. “He’s wearing tighter trousers today.”

“I noticed,” you say with a dreamy sigh as you lean down onto the counter, resting your chin in your palms. “I want to bite his thighs, Nood.”

“Really fucking weird you call him nude,” Skater mutters. You both ignore him.

“They’re huge. Think he’d give me work-out tips?” Noodle asks, looking down at his own thighs.

You lean forward to peer over the counter down at his denim clad legs. “Your thighs are already big,” you comment before leaning back.

“No, keep leaning over the counter,” Skater argues in a whine, making you look over your shoulder at him, not at all surprised to find his eyes on your ass. “Noodle, do some squats, get her to lean over again.”

“You want to fuck her and you’re trying to get her to check me out?” Noodle deadpans, making Skater look up at his best friend as if he hadn’t even considered that. Noodle snorts a laugh then turns back around to look over the arcade as he eats.

“Can’t believe you’re trying to get me to check out your best friend, Skate,” you tease, turning to face him better and leaning one elbow on the counter. Skater blinks at you kind of dumbly, still looking surprised at his accidental encouragement. “Don’t you want to fuck me anymore, Skater?”

“Don’t say such stupid things,” he retorts, snapping back to reality to look at you with such an offended expression that you burst into giggles. “Can I record your giggles and put it as my alarm? I’ll wake up happy then,” he asks, already reaching for his phone.

“God, you’re such a freak,” Noodle comments without turning around.

Instead of answering Skater, you grab a final couple of fries then walk off with amusement pulling your lips up.

“Sunflower!” Seoyeon’s voice makes you abruptly turn and head towards her instead of going to the snack bar to get a drink.

“What’s up, Bud?” you ask as you near the girl and her dad.

“The prize is stuck,” she says with a pout, pointing at the keyring stuck in the chute of the penny machine they’ve been playing.

“Go get a new one from Skater, this one’ll smell like pennies,” you say, even as you unhook the bundle of keys from your belt.

“Do I have to get the exact same one?” she wonders, making you give her a questioning look while your fingers flick through the keys to find the correct one without looking— you’ve been doing this for so long that you know all of the keys by touch alone at this point, it’s a skill you’re rather proud of. “Dad likes the sunflower one better than the tulip,” she informs, pointing into the neighbouring machine to where the little sunflower keyring lays close to the moving shelf on top of the pennies, too far away from the chute to be worth trying.

“Mm, sure,” you consent. Seoyeon grins, then bounces over to the prize counter while you focus on unlocking the glass door.

“I uhm, thanks, for agreeing,” Seokmin says, making you glance at him and find him standing close on your right, not touching but you know it wouldn’t take much of an adjustment to brush your ass against him if you turn slightly. But you don’t. Even if you want to. “Sunflowers have always been my favourite flower.”

“I’m taking that as a personal compliment,” you joke with a wink then reach into the machine to free the stuck keyring and place it back on the pennies, before locking the door back into place.

“Ah…yeah,” he chuckles softly, sounding a little awkward and when you look at him, he looks endearingly shy, eyes diverted aside as he mindlessly plays with his earlobe. “Are they your favourite too? Seoyeon told me all staff go by a nickname here, but she doesn’t know the story behind any of them because she’s never asked.”

“No, well, I do love them, but I love all flowers; my mum raised me with a love and appreciation for all plants,” you answer as you lock the door back into place before straightening up.

“Then why are you called Sunflower? And not…Daisy or something?” he wonders, tilting his head a little as he looks at you curiously.

“When I was little, I always followed my uncle around. He was the one who ran the arcade then and he went by Sunshine, because he was always so bright and happy. I looked up to him in every way; always turned to him when he was near like a sunflower to the sun, so Sunflower came easily.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet,” Seokmin says, smiling in a way that makes your chest warm. He looks so endeared by the little story, eyes soft and tender. It’s dangerous for your heart and you suddenly want to change his expression before he gains the attention of your heart as well as your libido.

“It’s probably the only name with a deeper meaning,” you announce with a little grin as you lean against the machine behind you. “Skater got his name because he always has a skateboard, and he can’t ride it for shit.” Seokmin chokes on a laugh he tries to hold back. “It’s okay, you can laugh; he’s not shy about that at all and will admit to the root of his workname to anyone who asks.”

With your assurance, Seokmin lets himself laugh, lips lifting into a smile that makes you think your heart may get involved no matter how hard you try to stop it.

To try to counteract the fact Seokmin has started to ruin you with his smile every time he visits the arcade to spend time with his daughter, you decide to try harder to seduce the fuck out of the man. Then hopefully fuck him and stop your heart racing whenever your eyes meet in the middle of neon lights that would make anyone else look atrocious, but not Lee Seokmin.

Though, of course, you need to be subtle enough that Seoyeon doesn’t catch on, but obvious enough that Seokmin can’t ignore you or miss your hints. Which means you gradually start wearing slightly tighter clothes, lower necklines, and bend in his eyeline to give him the best view you possibly can without presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat in the middle of your family’s arcade.

Sometimes, you notice his eyes lingering on you a fraction darker than his usual gaze, but it never lasts, and he doesn’t make any kind of move or sign otherwise that he’s interested.

Thankfully, you have Skater to encourage you to step up your game, even if the guy would much rather your efforts be turned to him, but he’s far too much of a respectful dude to ever push his own wishes on anyone, especially like this.

“Do it,” Skater says, nudging you away from where you’re both leaning against an out-of-order game in wait for your aunt to arrive to fix it. You’re both in view of the prize desk so Skater can easily see if someone approaches in need of his assistance, but he’s more interested in talking to you than standing alone. Jelly already sent him away from the back office when he tried to convince her to play a fifth round of rock, paper, scissors with him to pass time.

“Bud is literally right there,” you point out in deadpan, motioning to where Seoyeon is standing and watching her dad repeatedly get destroyed in the single-player game he’s been determinedly trying to beat the level of for the past half an hour.

“I’ll distract her,” Skater offers, making you look at him suspiciously.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Can’t a guy want to help his friend get the DILF she’s been thirsting over for the past month?” he asks innocently, even rounding his eyes out. You look at him flatly, not buying his act. He quickly gives and sidles closer to you, playfully tugging on your fingers. “Come to the movie with us after shift?” he requests with a cute grin that you know he doesn’t even need to try hard to put on. The fucker is actually very attractive; if he was older and not your employee, you probably would’ve been interested in him. But he’s 22 and you sign his paycheck, so you have zero interest in him.

“That’s what you want? Me to join your and Nood’s movie date?”

“Yeah! You haven’t gone with us in ages,” he complains, pouting at you. “And he’s bringing someone he met at his dance club, so I’ll be third wheeling.”

“Are you tricking me into a double date?”

“Ew, gross, no, why would I want to date you?” he retorts, making you gasp offendedly and backhand his shoulder. He sniggers and grabs your hand to lightly swing between the two of you; you just let him, not at all opposed to the harmless affection from your friend. “You know I’d never stoop so low as to trick you into dating me. I want it to be real if it ever happens. But I’ll definitely tell everyone you let me put my hand up your shirt in the backrow.” He laughs when you shove him hard enough that he stumbles aside. “Kidding! I’ll say you offered but I said no, and-”

“She’s going to fire you one day,” your aunt— known as Doc for the fact she makes the arcade better when something goes wrong— comments as she approaches from your left, making you look over and grin at her.

“She loves me too much,” Skater responds cheekily. “No Mini-Doc today?” he asks, pouting a little at the lack of your cousin following behind her mum like usual.

“She’s with her mama, doing something I’m apparently not allowed to know,” Doc says, rolling her eyes but she’s smiling fondly, so full of love for her wife and daughter. 

“That sucks, haven’t seen MD in a while,” he admits. “Miss the little cutie.”

“She’s really into How It’s Made at the minute, so she’s been binge watching it lately, plus any show that’s remotely similar,” Doc muses as he nudges you aside to kneel in front of the machine and access the panel after placing her tool bag on the floor at her side within easy reach.

“If I didn’t know she’s adopted, I’d say she very clearly has your blood in her,” you respond, making your aunt huff a laugh while nodding in agreement.

“Oof, your DILF lost again,” Skater comments, making you look over to Seokmin and find him frowning defeatedly at the screen while Seoyeon consolingly pats his arm, then laughs when he stubbornly puts another coin into the machine to restart the game.

“Your what?” Doc sputters, half laughing and half utterly bewildered.

“Sunflower wants Bud’s dad.”

“Right…and Bud is who, exactly?”

“Oh right, you’ve not been around when she’s here,” Skater responds, humming in understanding. “Bud’s that girl over there, her name’s Seoyeon; Flower befriended her like a month ago and she’s a chill kid. We all like her and she’s almost always here after school and on weekends. Her dad joins now.”

“And you want a man with a teen?” your aunt asks, looking up at you questioningly. You look at her and make a face, shrugging. “What does that even mean?”

“He’s really hot,” you state.

Doc looks over at Seokmin consideringly then nods in agreement before turning back to the machine to begin looking inside now that she’s got the panel off, shining a little torch within to light up the inside. “How old is he?”

“42.”

Doc baulks at you. “He’s only 11 years younger than me! That’s 14 years older than you!”

“She likes older guys,” Skater says solemnly.

“You really don’t ever have a chance then,” Doc sniggers then turns back to her task while Skater makes a wounded sound that only makes her snicker again. “Now, both of you get lost so I can focus.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Skater agrees and flings his arm around your shoulders to walk with you over to the father-daughter duo without discussion. “Hey, Bud; hey, Bud’s dad.”

“Hey,” Seokmin responds, glancing over quickly; though upon noticing you, his gaze lingers, catching on the young man’s arm around your shoulders before he smiles at you with less enthusiasm than usual and focuses back on his game.

“While it’s quiet, wanna rematch?” Skater says to Seoyeon, motioning with his free hand over to the basketball hoops. Seoyeon nods enthusiastically and starts to leave but Seokmin makes a betrayed little sound that makes her step back to him.

“You’re leaving me to face this alone?” he asks, frowning at her shortly then looks back at the screen, only to die for the umpteenth time tonight. “Dammit.”

“You know, I’m an expert at this game,” you say, moving closer and making Skater’s arm drop off of your shoulders. Seokmin glances at the retreating limb, then Skater and Seoyeon as they race over to the basketball game before he looks at you properly.

“You’re an expert?” he questions, not doubting you, just curious.

“Mm, I’ve played pretty much every game in here to completion many times, and this particular one has a few little tricks I can teach you. If you’re willing to play with me.”

“I…yeah, I’m willing,” he agrees, voice a little quieter and he nods in agreement.

“It’s the third round you get stuck on, right?” you ask, moving closer to the machine, and Seokmin, to put one of the many coins you keep in the pouch around your hips into the slot, then physically place his hands on the buttons and joystick.

Seokmin yelps and quickly starts to play before he can die less than a second into the game. “Yeah, third round. Probably very lame to you, right?” he chuckles a little self-depreciatively.

“No. Everyone has to start somewhere,” you reassure, gently laying a supportive hand on his arm and resisting the temptation to appreciatively squeeze the strong muscle of his bicep you can feel even without him flexing.

As Seokmin works his way through the first two rounds, you stand close to his side, watching the screen with him while giving him tips on how to get a higher score and keep more lives as he goes.

“Please don’t judge me too harshly if I cry with frustration when I die again,” he requests as the third round loads up. You giggle amusedly and he smiles at you a little too long, long enough that his character almost dies. He yelps when you do upon noticing the danger on screen, then his hands quickly work to save his character. “I always die on this next bit.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s a like, real fucking awkward thing you need to do to clear it easily without going around and taking even longer.”

“You can go around?!” he baulks.

You laugh, nodding. “Here, let me help, it’s too late to avoid it,” you offer as a genius idea forms in your brain. Seokmin makes a curious noise, starting to move his hands but you quickly slip under his arm closest to you to stand directly in front of him with your back to his chest and your hands over his to guide his movements on the controls.

Even though his hands move easily under your touch, you know he tensed as soon as you situated yourself in the small gap between his body and the machine. You’re so close that your hips are almost pressed against it, and his initially brushed your ass, but he moved back slightly. To your great disappointment.

“Are you looking, Mr. Lee?” you ask playfully, leaning back against his chest to allow him to easier see over your shoulder at the buttons. And by buttons you do mean the game buttons, but also the open button of your shirt allowing an incredible view of your cleavage from his vantage point. You really hope he’s taking the chance to look; you chose an uncomfortable push-up bra today just because you hoped he’d enjoy how great it makes your boobs look.

“H-huh?” he responds. “Uhm, ye-yeah, yeah, I’m…looking,” he says, and you feel him shift behind you.

For a split, heart wrenching second, you think he’s going to put more distance between you, but then he subtly presses closer to you and his arms pull in slightly, loosely caging your torso. You think you could be convinced to bend over the machine right here and now and lift your skirt if he asked. You know he won’t, but damn, are you considering how much power he must have in those thick thighs brushing against the back of yours.

It takes everything in you to not screech with excitement at his actions; the silent confirmation that he’s into this, you. You really want to immediately press your ass back against him, but you think that would spook the guy considering that the past weeks of your increasing seductions have only just proved fruitful.

Although you’re more than a little distracted by the feeling of his strong body behind you and his large, warm hands under your own— making you wonder what they’d feel like elsewhere— you diligently guide him through the level until the screen flickers as his character progresses to the next round.

“Yes!” he exclaims excitedly behind you, even bouncing once in his joy and rubbing his body against yours unintentionally—while you wish it’s intentional, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Thank you, Sunflower.”

“You’re welcome,” you say as you slip out from between his arms, making him let out an alarmed little sound.

“Wait, come back,” he requests a little desperately, eyes darting between you and the game as he tries to work through the level, but his character has already died. “See, I can’t do it without you,” he says, landing a pout on you that makes your heart swell in your chest, dangerously threatening to press through your ribs like a cartoon character in its want to reach the man before you.

Clearly, the only option here is to quickly turn things around and wipe that cute pout from his face before he can do real damage. “Oh, I’m sure you can use your fingers in the exact right way,” you coo, making his pout melt away as his eyebrows lift slightly, eyes widening, and posture straightening out of his slightly sulky pout; the suggestion in your words causing him to rise in height, and to the occasion— you’d like to imagine.

“Yeah?” he responds, voice pitched a little lower, quieter; just for the two of you despite the bustle of the arcade around you.

You hum and offer a coin from your pouch. “It’s your turn to do it alone now,” you say as he takes the coin from your fingers, in no rush and letting his skin drag against yours as his gaze remains locked with yours. “Show me what you’ve learned, daddy.” Immediately, Seokmin freezes and his lips pop open, the slight darkness to his gaze abruptly lifting with shock at your words. You just smirk and let your fingers brush his once more before you lower your hand and lean against the machine in wait.

It takes a few long seconds before Seokmin snaps back to reality, swallows thickly with a few subtle nods, and then turns to the machine to slide the coin into the slot with slightly trembling fingers before they find their place on the controls.

With nothing but utter determination on his features, jaw deliciously defined as he clenches it in intense focus, Seokmin flies through not only the first three levels, but the following two, dying at a particularly tricky spot. Though instead of looking defeated or pouting again, he looks at you with big, round eyes; looking so fucking endearing that you don’t have a hope in sweet hell of stopping the racing of your heart.

“Did I do good?” he asks, so soft and innocent, so precious, which only grows when you nod, finding yourself unable to even form a single syllable right now, not when he’s thrown you for such a loop. He beams so bright and proud. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” you manage to mumble out quietly as he straightens and turns to you, looking so happy to be standing before you like this that you know that you’re absolutely fucked; and not in the way you intended. Although you’d still love to be railed within an inch of your life by Lee Seokmin, you also want to hold his warm hands and spend your time making him smile.

“So, the crane machines,” he says, motioning vaguely across the arcade without looking— in the complete wrong direction of the mentioned machines. “Do you have any tricks for those? Seoyeon has her eye on a rabbit plushie, and I’d earn World’s Best Dad if I surprise her with it,” he says with a chuckle around an almost cheeky grin.

“I think you already have it,” you respond without thought, making the man’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, before he looks aside with a shy blush, one hand tugging bashfully on his earlobe as he smiles a little dopily at the floor. “I know some tricks,” you say, making him look back up at you.

Once you’ve led him over to the crane machines— in the correct direction— Seokmin finds the one he needs, and ushers you closer to point out the toy he wants through the glass. When you nod and let him know that you can help him nab it, he lights up and excitedly collects the right number of coins from his pocket to slot into the machine.

Then, to your heart-skipping surprise, he puts one hand on the machine over the buttons, though doesn’t grab the joystick yet and instead looks at you and motions to the space in front of him in invitation, smile still on his face.

As you slot yourself between him and the machine, settling your hands over his once his left is on the joystick, you decide to no longer chase after this man for his body— though you definitely still want that— but for his heart too. It feels right to be tucked up against his chest with his arms around you and mouth murmuring near your ear, joy in his tone as you successfully grasp the right toy.

Right here and now, you decide that you need to adjust your two-step plan. You’re pretty confident that you’ve gained his attention, so part one is complete, but everything after that needs to change with your new goal in mind. Now, there’s something important that you need to do before you can even attempt to make a romantic move on the man, and it’s something you’re determined to do right.

“Earn his trust?” Skater repeats the words you just said to him as you meet outside of work— something you haven’t done in some weeks now.

It’s a weekend, and although you both usually work, you know Seoyeon has gone on a little weekend trip with her dad, so you decided to take the time off. Skater had decided to also take the weekend off and make you go to the mall with him; he hates going alone and doesn’t trust anyone but Noodle and you to actually help him not look like a giant fool where his fashion is concerned.

It’s probably a very misplaced trust, honestly, because he’s currently wearing a neon green hoodie and a tie-dyed beanie combo he's just purchased, and both you and Noodle haven’t told him how ridiculous it is. Then again, he somehow pulls it off, so you think he could probably buy anything and look good. It’s highly unfair.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he carries on, while you continue to eye his outfit with a slight pout, wishing you could just throw on whatever and look half as good as him. Noodle is doing similarly from your right, but he’s more obvious in his displeasure at his best friend’s effortless style. You know it took Noodle twenty minutes to pick his jeans this morning, because you and Skater had been sitting outside of his apartment in your car for at least that long. But at this point, you’re both used to waiting for him.

“It means that if I want a chance with him past getting freaky in the sheets, then I need to show him that I’m worth his time. That he can rely on me; not just for him, but his daughter too. He’s a father first, daddy second,” you declare.

Both young men look at you in disgust that just makes you cackle a little before nudging them along in the line for the noodle bar that Noodle always makes the three of you eat at when you visit the mall. As if you didn’t eat here last night before going to the cinema with them and Noodle’s new dance club bestie— who insisted on being called Tiger, seeing as you all have your own nicknames, and his eyes sparkled too much in excitement at the thought for you to not go along with it.

“Ignoring that last part, I think you’ve got a good point,” Noodle says, nodding in agreement as his eyes dart between you and the line to make sure he doesn’t lose his place and risk his favourite noodles selling out before he can claim any for himself. “But surely, he already trusts you with Bud? You’ve been watching over her like every day for over a month now.”

“As a friend figure, sure. I just play games with her and keep her occupied, but I need to prove than I can be more than that. I can help her with homework; she’s told me she struggles a lot, and he’s often too busy with work that she doesn’t want to bother him. And I can drop her home sometimes. We exchanged numbers yesterday for Seoyeon’s sake, so I could definitely text him and say I can drive her home so he can go straight home and start dinner or take the chance to relax because she’s with me and I will look after her.”

“Wait, you exchanged numbers?” Skater questions, and you nod.

“For Seoyeon.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“She literally has her own phone; she can just text you herself. You don’t need to swap numbers with him for her sake,” he points out in a deadpan tone with the expression to match.

“Look, I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for that reason, he’d have never suggested it; don’t ruin this for me, Skate,” you say, pouting slightly, though your eyebrows are furrowed a little sternly. He just holds his hands up, palms to you in defence, and wisely keeps his mouth shut.

At least for a few minutes until you’re almost at the front of the line.

“You should send him a nude,” he says then turns his head to look at you with big, serious eyes. “But send it to me first so I can give approval.”

In sync, you and Noodle shove Skater out of the line while he cackles, so pleased with himself. At least until you both refuse to let him back in the line and he whines all the way to the back.

Sometimes, the littlest victories taste so sweet. Or freshly cooked, while the loser gets the soggy, scraped from the bottom portion. Delicious.

You put your new plan into place the very first day you see Seoyeon after concocting it. As per usual, you ask her about school, and when she complains about the history project that she was told about today and only has two weeks to complete amongst all her other homework, you take her to the snack bar, sit at a table with her, and have her walk you through every piece of homework she currently has on her plate.

To your surprise, Seoyeon doesn’t argue at all, she seems enthusiastic about gaining help and doesn’t hesitate to listen attentively and obediently follow your guidance. Of course, it’s been some years since you were in school, and you definitely can’t recall having to learn all these topics, but those you can at least remember a little, you do your best to help her with.

Slowly, you manage to work through homework for two subjects— with the internet to fill in the gaps in your knowledge— before deciding the rest can wait, and she deserves to play some games.

While she’s putting away everything— after you’ve taken photos of the topics you want to do some research on to help her better tomorrow— the familiar, godly figure of Seokmin approaches, looking a little puzzled as he nears, yet still smiling.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you with your bookbag here, Snowdrop,” he muses, alerting his daughter to his presence.

Seoyeon beams at her dad. “Sunflower helped me with my homework!”

“Oh, really?” he asks, looking genuinely surprised as he turns his entire focus to you, making you feel like you’ve melted a little into the seat under his sole attention. “You really helped her?”

“Yeah. She’s here so much that she can’t realistically have time to do it once she gets home, and I’d hate for her to get behind and get in trouble. I thought we could make this a regular thing; get some homework done before gaming,” you say with a shrug, trying to play it off when your heart is skipping over itself in worry that the man might immediately shut this down and say you’re overstepping. If he does that, you know that you’ll never have a chance with him really, and the thought makes your chest ache.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, looking a little guilty. “You have your own work to be doing; besides, it’s my job as her dad to do those things. I should really be doing it, but I’ve been focused on work and then just spending time with her, and I don’t want to force her to do homework because I know it sucks, and I–”

“Dad, you’re spiralling,” Seoyeon says, making Seokmin cut off and look down at the table as embarrassment colours his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, getting up as Seoyeon finishes packing up, so that you can put a gentle hand on Seokmin’s arm, not even paying note to his strength for once; you’re more interested in soothing the man. Your plans really have changed where he’s concerned. “You don’t need to be sorry, Seokmin,” you assure softly. He looks at you without much moving his head, mostly looking at you endearingly through his lashes. It makes your heart skip a beat. “I’m happy to help her. I really like spending time with your daughter; I come to work just to see her and spend time with her sometimes. I’m really more than happy to do my best to assist her with her homework, honest.”

“Oh…” he stares at you consideringly for a moment then lets out a breath and straightens to his natural posture, less slumped and curled in on himself in shame, and more confident, taller; shoulders back but still relaxed. He lifts one hand to place it over yours on his arm and gives you a grateful, tender kind of smile as he squeezes your hand slightly. “Thank you, Sunflower, I really appreciate everything you do for Seoyeon. She really deserves it.”

“Mm, she does. And so do you. If you need help, you can always text me and I’ll do my best.”

“I couldn’t ask you to–”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” you correct, voice firm and no-nonsense, yet still gentle in the way you hope to always be for him. Safety and comfort rolled into one. “You’re allowed to have someone to rely on too, Seokmin.”

“I…I am,” he agrees, nodding. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile and remove your hand to turn and look at Seoyeon, who’s standing beside the table with her backpack slung over one shoulder, and a strange, considering look on her face as she looks at you and her dad. “What’s the face?”

“I was born with it,” she retorts.

“Hey! That’s my line!” you exclaim, reaching out to prod her, making her giggle before she links her arm with yours and leads you through to the arcade with Seokmin following close behind you both, with a content smile on his face that you fail to notice the fondness in.

“We have to play a round before I go,” Seoyeon insists, leading you to the same game that the two of you always play a round on every single day she visits the arcade. It’s pretty much tradition at this point, so you don’t argue and just slip the coins into the slot and start playing, always so happy to get the privilege of spending time with the girl like this.

Over the past two weeks, it really has become typical for you to drive Seoyeon home from the arcade after school— once you’ve completed some homework and played a few rounds together, of course.

Almost every single school day, you’ve driven her home to give Seokmin time to get home without rush, get started on dinner, and do chores that can’t wait until the weekend. He still stops by sometimes, but he always texts you first to let you know that he plans to pick Seoyeon up himself, so that you don’t take her home while he’s on the way to the arcade.

Unfortunately, it’s the only reason he texts you, but you’ve kind of deluded yourself into thinking of it as some kind of co-parenting thing. You know it’s not, but it makes your heart flutter to think of it that way— even if you know, if anything, you’re just a voluntary babysitter.

Still, despite dropping the teen off for the past two weeks, you’ve never been inside her house until today. Seoyeon’s never invited you in because it hadn’t been the point of driving her home, and you’re always perfectly okay with that and expect nothing else.

Today, however, Seoyeon arrives at the arcade after school looking miserable, and you quickly realise that she’s got a cold, so you insist on taking her home so that she can rest. It goes to show how bad she feels that she doesn’t argue at all and just quietly waits at the prize desk for you to be ready, while holding the plushie Skater had given her for comfort as soon as you told him she’s ill.

Of course, you text Seokmin to let him know, and also ask permission to go inside and watch over her until he’s home before heading off. Instead of texting back, he calls five minutes later when you’re driving, so Seoyeon puts your phone on speaker for you.

“Hey, I’m driving right now, so you’re on speaker,” you announce in greeting, always wanting to be upfront with others if the call is audible to others; you’d want the same basic respect to be granted to you, after all.

“Ah, okay. Thank you for driving Seoyeon home,” Seokmin replies, voice a little quiet and low, as if he’s trying not to be heard by other people; you assume he’s with clients and has stepped out to call you quickly in private. “I’ll try to finish up here quickly and get home; you probably have to get back to work yourself and–”

“Nope. I’m done for the day now. I have no plans but to make sure Seoyeon is tucked up at home resting. Do you mind if I make some soup?”

“Oh…you’d really do that?”

“Of course. I’m great at soup!”

“I’d really appreciate that, Sunflower. Use whatever you need and let me know if you need me to pick up anything on the way home. We should have meds, but I’m not sure if there’s that many. We probably need more.”

“I’ll text you anything you’re low on and she needs.”

“Great. Thank you,” he says, letting out a big, grateful exhale. “I owe you big time.”

“Nah, it’s just what friends do, right?”

“I guess so,” he hums before his tone turns softer, even sweeter. “Sweetheart, do you want me to pick up anything on the way home?”  For a split, utterly delusional moment, you think he’s still talking to you, but then you quickly remind yourself to rein in the wishful thinking and face the reality that he’s talking to his daughter, not you.

“Ice cream?” Seoyeon requests a little hoarsely, making you frown sympathetically. “My throat hurts.”

“Okay, Snowdrop; ice cream, and honey tea,” Seokmin decides, making Seoyeon whine in complaint. “I know you don’t like honey tea, but it’s good for your throat.” Seoyeon doesn’t respond, just pouts, and you assume he must know that she’s likely to do that because he doesn’t wait long for a response, knowing he won’t gain one. “My meeting is scheduled for another almost two hours, I’m afraid. But I will get through it as quick as possible and be home as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Seoyeon croaks. “See you soon.”

“Mm, see you soon. Rest lots and be good for Sunflower.”

“She always is,” you assure. “Don’t worry about Seoyeon; I’ve got this. You focus on your meeting and get back when you can. We’ll be waiting, so will soup.”

Seokmin chuckles. “I look forward to seeing you both, and soup, of course.”

After a final round of farewells, the call ends and you finish the drive in a calm quiet.

As soon as you and Seoyeon step into the Lee house, you send her off to get into comfy pyjamas. Once you’ve watched her trek up the stairs— to make sure she doesn’t fall down them in her groggy state— you familiarise yourself with the ground floor of the house, then head the kitchen to get started on making— what you hope— will be the most healing soup Seoyeon has ever consumed. You genuinely hate seeing her so under the weather like this; it makes your heart ache and fills you with the urge to do whatever you can to make her feel even a little bit better.

When Seoyeon joins you again, she’s dressed in pyjamas so soft and cosy that you immediately ask her where she got them so that you can get yourself a pair, earning an amused, though snuffy giggle.

“Feeling a bit more human now you’re in cosy clothes, not your uniform?” you ask, gently brushing her hair back from her forehead so that you can feel her temperature, while your other hand stirs the contents of the pan on the hob before you, even if your eyes are on her.

“Bit,” she agrees with a nod.

“I found meds,” you inform, removing your hand from her warm skin to point to the counter behind you. Seoyeon automatically looks over, then toddles the few steps to obediently take the medication laid out for her beside a glass of water. “And I text your dad to pick up some more, and orange juice. I always get a craving for oranges when I’m ill, and juice is easier than chewing when your noise is stuffy.”

“Dad always gives me orange juice when I’m ill, for the vitamin c.”

“Great minds think alike,” you joke, wiggling your eyebrows at the teen, making her laugh, though break into a few coughs that makes you frown in sympathy. “Why don’t you go get all snug on the sofa? Put on a movie and I’ll join you soon.”

“Oh…Can…Can we watch Toy Story?” she requests shyly, making you tilt your head slightly in question. “Just…it’s…We always watch it when one of us are ill; it’s kind of tradition.”

“Oh. Don’t you want to wait for your dad?” Seoyeon’s face falls a little. “I’m happy to watch it, seriously; I love that movie. But I don’t want to take something special from you if it’s something you do with your dad, Bud.”

“Ah, I suppose,” she agrees quietly, nodding in understanding. “Do you have a movie you watch when you’re ill?”

“Beauty and The Beast,” you answer without hesitation.

“I’m going to watch that,” she decides with another nod, then turns and toddles into the living room with her glass of water before you can say anything in response. Not that you have anything to say, just a smile full of fondness for the girl on your face even as you turn back to cooking.

It’s a little more than two hours since ending the phone call with Seokmin that he enters the house, rustling with the bags in his hands, and calling out to say he’s home, concern in his voice.

“In here!” Seoyeon calls back, sounding a fair amount better now that she’s had some meds, soup, and dozed against your shoulder for the last half an hour of Beauty and the Beast. She’s much more alert now yet still tucked up against you and seeming more than content to remain as she is. Honestly, you don’t want to move either; it’s far too nice.

“Oh,” Seokmin says as he steps into view, both shopping bags in one hand and expression turning soft as it lands on the two of you. “You two look…” he doesn’t finish his words, but his smile somehow grows a little more tender. “I’ll put this away, make your tea, and then–”

“I can do it,” you offer, beginning to remove your arm from around Seoyeon, unaware that she’s pouting as you do, your attention on Seokmin. “I’ll handle that and you can go get out of your work clothes.”

“No, no, you stay there,” Seokmin insists, waving his hands at you. “You both look comfy and I refuse to let you move. Stay,” he demands, pointing at you and looking suddenly stern in a way you hadn’t even thought his features could grow, voice firm and no-nonsense.

Obediently, you settle back into place, eyes a little wide and you’re pretty sure very obvious that you’re a little…into being told what to do by the man. Seokmin’s head tilts almost imperceptibly as he considers your reaction before his lips tilt into a hint of a smirk. He doesn’t say or do anything more before turning and going to the kitchen.

“Will you stay to watch Toy Story with us?” Seoyeon requests as she begins to search for the movie on the streaming app on the TV.

“Do you want me to?” you ask, turning your head just enough to look at her. She nods, still looking at the TV. “Then of course I’ll stay.” Seoyeon looks at you, smiling so genuinely happy at your agreement that you know you’ll never be able to reject her requests to spend time together, not when you know it makes her eyes shine like this.

A little under twenty minutes later, Seokmin is back, dressed in his own comfy pyjamas, hair damp, and skin shiny and tinted red from the quick shower he just had to wash the day of work away. He’s got a bowl in one hand, and a mug in the other, which he hands to Seoyeon. The teen groans in complaint, but she begrudgingly accepts the mug to sip at the contents while her dad sits on her right side, an amused little smile on his face from her reaction.

“How you feeling now, Snowdrop?” Seokmin asks as he settles comfortably in his place, pulling his bowl closer and gently stirring the steaming contents within. Your stomach warms strangely as you realise that he’s about to try your cooking for the first time; you hope he likes it and will let you cook for him again one day.

“Better than earlier, still not great,” Seoyeon answers honestly, lips protruding into a displeased pout above her mug. You notice Seokmin’s expression match it despite the fact he’s not even looking at her, upset because his daughter is, and it makes you smile to yourself to see the care— and similarities— between the father-daughter duo.

“I’ll get you some ice-cream after I’ve eaten this.”

“It’s really good; Sunflower’s a really good cook.”

“It smells delicious,” Seokmin enthuses, eyes glued to the soup and looking far more excited than anyone should be about a very basic vegetable soup. Both you and Seoyeon watch as he blows on his first spoonful carefully before tentatively putting it in his mouth, cautious of the heat. It takes a second for him to register the food in his mouth properly before he makes a pleased, enthusiastic hum of a sound and dives in for more. “It is really good. You’ll have to give me the recipe, Sunflower.”

“I just threw things together,” you admit with a soft laugh, which grows when he levels you a surprised look.

“No secret family recipe?” he questions, tone light and playful.

“If it was a secret family recipe, I couldn’t exactly tell you, could I?” you joke back with a grin.

“Ah, I suppose not,” he agrees with a laugh. “Unless I adopt you.” Immediately, your expression twists in disgust and his smile drops. “Hey! I’m a great dad!”

“I’m aware,” you respond, nodding a little. “I just really do not want that at all. Plus, you’re not that much older than me!” you point out.

“I’m 14 years older than you,” he deadpans. “Over a decade.”

“And? That means nothing.”

Seokmin’s expression does something odd now; turns considering with a hint of something you can’t name but really wish you could. It feels important and you can’t help but hold his gaze as you try to figure it out, aware that his eyes are growing more intense with every passing moment and thought flicking behind them.

If it wasn’t for Seoyeon speaking up after a few moments, you get the feeling neither you nor Seokmin would’ve looked away, and that intensity would’ve only grown to something you really hope to experience one day— just preferably when his daughter isn’t literally sitting right between you.

“Can we watch Toy Story now?” she asks, looking between you and her dad with big eyes.

Seokmin immediately drags his gaze away from you and looks down into the space between you to smile obligingly at his daughter. “Of course, Snowdrop.”

The three of you get comfy facing the TV and settle down to fulfil a Lee house ill-day tradition. You hope that it’s only the start of being invited to join family traditions with the pair. You’d really like that.

Thankfully, Seoyeon isn’t ill for long, but she does pass it on to her dad, so you take up driving her home straight from school the few days Seokmin is curled up in bed fighting the bug. Although he had tried to insist he can still cook and look after the house on the first day, you had promptly ordered him back to bed, put dinner on to cook, then went out to get more meds as he hadn’t anticipated getting ill himself when he bought them for Seoyeon a handful of days before he fell ill. 

Seokmin doesn’t seem to mind that you take up spending the evenings in his living room with Seoyeon— doing your best to help her with homework. Then again, he doesn’t surface past the first time you sent him swiftly back to bed upon seeing his red nose and watery eyes. You do, however, make sure to send Seoyeon up to check on him routinely. You’d do it yourself, but you think that’s probably a step too far, and then he’d definitely kick you out for entering his private room uninvited.

It's Sunday by the time you see Seokmin again, when he joins you and Seoyeon in the kitchen as you both try to figure out how to work the mini candyfloss machine that you bought on a whim at the supermarket that morning while stocking up on groceries for both households.

“What’s that?” Seokmin asks, drawing both of your attention. He’s standing at the kitchen doorway, looking almost like the man you’re used to. You know, other than the fact he’s in a plain white t-shirt and shorts of all things. Thankfully, he’s focused on the machine on the counter as he nears, because your own focus is a lot lower, stuck to his gloriously thick thighs and wondering if maybe you’re the ill one now and this is some kind of fever induced hallucination. Those thighs cannot be real.

“Candyfloss machine,” Seoyeon answers, flapping the manual in his direction, making him pluck it from her fingers to begin to read the page she has it open on. “The instructions are worded really weird.”

“Mm, they are,” he agrees, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to focus, and yet still, you’re gawping at his thighs.

Somehow, the father-daughter duo doesn’t notice your obvious staring of the man’s delicious thighs, and you manage to snap out of your horny-daze all on your own.

Between the three of you, you manage to decode the ridiculous manual and produce three wild— and wildly pathetic— sticks of candyfloss. There’s more of the treat covering the machine, counters, and the three of you than the sticks, but you’re all laughing, and although you know this will be quite the clean up, you don’t care. You’re already planning to search online for different coloured and flavoured sugars to try next week with the hope of making the pair look as happy as they do right now.

Honestly, now that Seokmin and Seoyeon are both back to full health and there’s no reason for you to spend so much time at their house, you keep expecting Seokmin to politely tell you to fuck off home. You know Seoyeon won’t, because she’s always so happy to have you around; both to just hang out, and because since you’ve started to do homework with her, she’s been less behind at school and doesn’t struggle as much.

Yet every time you drive Seoyeon home on days Seokmin doesn’t pick her up— or join her at the arcade if it’s a weekend—, she still invites you in and you’re still there hours later. You only leave when she’s gone off to bed and you’ve finished cleaning up whatever the two of you have used, and Seokmin always walks you to the door.

Tonight is no different; Seoyeon went up to bed ten minutes ago and now you’re finishing cleaning the kitchen counters so that Seokmin doesn’t have to do it. Though he’s right behind you, loading the last dishes into the dishwasher. It’s so fucking domestic it makes you want to scream. But in a good way. And kind of a horny way. But mostly a wholesome, yearning sort of way.

“You know, Seoyeon’s teacher called me today,” Seokmin starts, making you immediately drop the cloth in your hand to spin and look at him. He’s already leaning back against the counter and facing you; arms crossed casually across his chest and a little smile on his face. It makes you relax, understanding that it can’t be bad if he’s still got that natural little smile he always wears on his face.

“Is that normal? Random calls?” you ask, still a little worried though, because you’re always worried about Seoyeon where her schooling is concerned. You know she really struggles with most of her lessons except creative ones. She excels in art, but everything else isn’t easy for her and the school only helps so much.

Seoyeon still doesn’t have any friends either and you worry she is isolated socially. Though she has mentioned a few classmates a handful of times, but you know she doesn’t consider them friends, just nicer classmates who are willing to talk to her and work with her despite her being at the bottom of the class academically. At the very least, she doesn’t seem to get picked on for being quiet and behind compared to the rest of the class. Still, you always worry that one day she’ll come home in tears and admit she’s been hiding it, or that things have changed for the worst.

Seokmin nods in answer to your question. “She’s still the newest student, and well, you know she struggles academically and hasn’t really made any friends, so the staff keep a close eye on her.”

“Ah, I see. I’m glad they care enough to do that.”

“Me too,” he agrees, smile lifting a little more. “It’s a really good school; supportive and everything about these things. They just don’t have the staff to give her more focus to help with her studies, and I don’t want to make her go to catch up clubs; I know she’d hate them.”

“She would. I think you’re doing the right thing by her, even if the school probably tries to guilt you into thinking otherwise.”

“Oh, you do?” His tone softens and his arms unfold to slide down to hang by his sides as he looks at you in a touched kind of way. You nod. “Thank you, that means a lot to me. They have bugged me about sending her to clubs, and even changing her to a different class, but then she’d be with younger students and held back a year and I really don’t want her to go through that. Especially not now that she’s settled and gotten used to her classmates and routine.”

“She’d be right back where she started.”

He hums and nods. “Exactly. I’m really glad you agree and I have your support with this. And that Seoyeon does too. That’s actually what the call was about.”

You give him a bewildered look and point to yourself. “Me? It was about me?”

“Well, technically, yes,” he confirms with a chuckle. “More like how much better Seoyeon is doing lately. Ever since you started to do homework with her, she’s picked up a lot more. Her classwork is improving and she’s more confident now; she raised her hand for the first time today to ask a question! She’s never asked for clarification before, especially not in front of the whole class.”

“Oh, she did?” you ask, lifting your hands to press one against your suddenly warm heart. Hearing that the shy, anxious girl felt brave enough to push past her fear of drawing attention to her struggles really makes your chest feel so full.

You know it’s a little thing to most, something that a lot of kids start doing in their first years of school, but you’re so proud of Seoyeon that you wish she was still downstairs so that you could give her a giant hug. You know bringing attention to her act could potentially lead to her retreating and not raising her hand in class again, so you wouldn’t mention it, just hold her and hopefully silently let her know how much you care about her.

“That… I really want to hug her right now,” you admit, making Seokmin laugh softly. “I’m so proud of her.”

“I get it, I want to squeeze her and smother her in praise, but it’s probably better to not mention it in case she gets embarrassed about her teacher calling me to say that.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” you agree. “I’m going to have to squeeze a pillow when I get home instead.”

“Or…” Seokmin says, suddenly talking quieter, almost timid as he pushes off of the counter and takes a step towards you. “You can hug me?” he offers, giving you a shy smile as he opens his arms to the side a little in invitation.

“Hug you?” you repeat dumbly, staring up at him with big, surprised eyes.

He nods a little jerkily. “If–if you want to. If you’re comfort–” before he’s even finished, you step forward into his space. It’s Seokmin’s eyes that widen now. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to accept his offer. Though he doesn’t move away, doesn’t take it back, so you move even closer and carefully wrap your arms around his waist. A little stiltedly, Seokmin’s arms close around you, enveloping your body in a warmth and comfort you never want to let go of.

You really don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance to be held by Seokmin, so you decide to take full advantage of the moment and tuck up against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and just enjoy it while you can.

When Seokmin moves, you’re expecting him to let go, to remove your arms from him and politely tell you that he’s not comfortable with that kind of affection from you; that you’ve gone too far, and he would like it if you don’t touch him again. As much as you don’t want him to say any of that— even knowing he’d be so fucking gentle and considerate about it, because that’s just the kind of man he is— you’re as ready for it as you can be; ready to remove your arms and kiss goodbye to any miniscule chance of getting to ever kiss him.

What you aren’t ready for, however, is for Seokmin’s arms to not fall away, but tighten. For him to not step back, but closer. For him to do anything but curl down to rest his head against yours and let out a breath as if he’s been waiting for this moment. For this comfort. You don’t know if he’s just missed having this kind of affection with another adult, or if it’s because it’s you he’s holding in his arms like you belong there, but you let your delusions win out this time and pretend that it’s the second option.

Time ceases to exist, ceases to have meaning as you stand motionlessly in the kitchen holding one another. You think you could be happy doing nothing but this for the rest of your life. But there’s truth to the saying ‘all good things must end’, and slowly, Seokmin’s hold loosens, silently telling you that it’s time to let go now.

The two of you unwind your arms from one another and take a step back to put a more respectable distance between you, though you notice that it’s not as respectable as it could be. Seokmin hasn’t gone far or prompted you to move further, so you lift your gaze to look at him, only to find him already looking down at you.

There’s something in the air between you, something that slips under your skin and fills your chest, makes your heart race thickly with anticipation and hope.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokmin’s right arm lift, though you don’t look at it, don’t dare break the locked gaze; it feels too important. Still, you’re so aware of it raising in your peripheral. Of his fingers extending a little. Of him reaching out. Yet, he doesn’t touch.

Seokmin drops his arm just as his fingers are about to brush your cheek, so close that you can already almost feel his touch. He steps back and breaks the eye contact, turning instead back to the dishwasher to turn it on while you can only stare at his back, your chest tight and heart aching.

You make sure to gather yourself and turn before he does, so that you can finish wiping down the side and focus on something other than that it feels like rejection despite the fact you hadn’t done anything.

Like every night, Seokmin walks you to the door when you leave. Like every night, he thanks you for coming over and being so helpful to his little family. Like every night, he remains at the door to watch you get in your car and drive away. But for the first time, you don’t have a content little smile on your face, only a frown as you try to understand what happened tonight.

Sometimes, your parents like to suggest that you should really get some new friends— ones you don’t work with, namely— and you always dismiss the suggestion and assure them that you’re more than content with the friends you do have. However, it’s times like this when you reluctantly think there’s some merit to your parents’ words.

“Forget about him! I’ll adopt a cat and be a DILF instead!” Skater exclaims, waving his beer bottle around where he’s half melded with his favourite beanbag in his apartment— an apartment he shares with Noodle, of course.

You’ve just told the pair what happened the other night with you and Seokmin; how you could’ve sworn he was reaching out to caress your cheek, to lean in and claim your lips for his own. Yet, he didn’t and turned away and if nothing had happened. Of course, nothing had happened, but you really fucking wanted it to.

Noodle is still nibbling on his last slice of pizza like a tipsy little mouse. You can’t tell if he keeps forgetting that he’s in the midst of eating as the three of you talk and joke around, or if he’s just genuinely savouring the fancy, stone baked pizza from the fancy Italian restaurant. At least most of it, because you know that as soon as he’s finished taking his tiny little bites of the middle and topping, he’ll pass the crust to Skater, who will eat it without complaint. You’ve witnessed this very routine many times over the years, but only with this specific restaurant’s pizza, despite the crust genuinely being delicious; part of you has a feeling it’s more to do with the fact that Skater weirdly loves the crust than Noodle not liking it.

“CILF,” Noodle mumbles, making you and Skater glance at him, then crack up at his half dazed, yet semi-serious expression; eyes unfocused as he stares blankly ahead. “Huh?” he asks after blinking himself back to reality and straightening up where he’s sitting cross legged on the other end of the sofa to you.

“You’re so cute, Nood,” you coo, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He just grins at you, then returns to imitating a pizza-loving mouse.

“Back to Bud’s dad being a fucking idiot,” Skater decides, making you both look at him and find him frowning a little. “What kind of a man, no, what kind of a person wouldn’t kiss you given the chance?!”

“Me,” Noodle declares.

“You’re barely a person,” Skater dismisses while waving a hand vaguely. Noodle immediately throws the last of his pizza— essentially just crust now— at his best friend. It thwacks Skater in the face, and both you and Noodle burst into laughter. Instead of retaliating, Skater just takes it as a flying food gift and picks the crust up from where it fell onto his partially reclined torso to shove half of it straight into his mouth.

“He’s right though,” you decide, looking at Noodle, who looks at you in betrayal. “You’re probably like 80% noodle at this point.”

Noodle laughs as he nods. “You’re right.”

“What’s the other 20?” Skater ponders aloud. “At least 18% dance.”

“I think I’m more dance than that,” Noodle offers.

“He’s right,” you agree. “Okay, let’s say…70% noodle, 20% dance, and 10% thighs and ass.”

“Have you been looking at his ass?!” Skater exclaims indignantly while Noodle just cackles away, pleased with your decision and finding his best friend hilarious as he goes on a rant about how it’s unfair that you don’t look at his ass.

You don’t correct Skater that you have— and still do— look at his ass when it’s in your line of sight; you think it’s funnier watching him whine and turn his big babyboy eyes on you as he tries to convince you to check out his ass— and whole body— every time you see him, for the sake of his wounded ego.

The topic of the last time you saw Seokmin doesn’t come up for the rest of the night and part of you regrets it the next morning, because now you’re no closer to figuring out what the fuck happened and what you’re supposed to do about it.

But mostly, you’re just glad you got to spend time with the pair and are reminded exactly why you tell your parents that you’re happy with the friends you have.

Although you don’t want to admit it, you’ve come to understand that you must’ve been wrong about Seokmin’s interest in you. You’ve seen him multiple times since that night in his kitchen, and despite him being his usual friendly self, there’s something that flickers in his eyes when he looks at you. Something that looks hesitant, worried almost, and your chest aches as you consider that he doesn’t know how to act with you now.

You think that either he regrets the tension in his kitchen that night, that he regrets trying to reach out; or he realised in that moment how much you want him, and he hadn’t understood before that you no longer just want to have sex with him. Maybe he only wants meaningless sex, but you’ve ruined it by gaining feelings for him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s trying to figure out how to let you down easy or put a boundary up between you.

As much as Seokmin doesn’t want to hurt you, you don’t want to hurt him either or put him in an uncomfortable position; so, you back off a little.

Of course, you don’t stop spending time with the Lee family. You still drive Seoyeon home a few times a week and stay to help her with her homework and hang out. You still text Seokmin to ask if they need anything from the store while you’re doing your own shopping. You still joke with him and keep a friendly relationship. But that’s as far as you go.

You no longer make suggestive jokes that he doesn’t always catch but always looks at you in slight disbelief when he does, as if he can’t believe you’ve said that. You no longer let your hand linger over his a second too long when passing him items. You no longer look at him with adoration in your gaze and heart beating wildly when you admire him smiling with his daughter.

You’re doing all you can to put a respectable emotional distance between you, to just be his friend. Even if it’s one of the hardest things you’ve ever done. But if that’s what you need to do to be able to remain in the lives of the father-daughter duo for a long time, you’ll do it and hope for nothing more. Even if it hurts.

One night, just as you’re about to leave the Lee house after the usual routine of helping Seokmin clean up, the doorbell rings. Seokmin chuckles as you immediately step backwards from the door, lowering your hand from where you had been inches from grasping the handle, and instead motion him to it.

As he opens the door, you remain behind it out of sight in wait for his visitor to leave so that you can take your own leave. You probably could’ve just stepped out and let him greet his visitor then, but it hadn’t occurred to you until now and Seokmin doesn’t seem bothered that you’re behind the door, so you don’t feel bad about it.

Though you do feel awkward very quickly when you tune into the conversation that you had purposely not paid attention to for privacy’s sake, when you hear him chuckle awkwardly. Now, you can hear that his visitor is a woman and, judging by her tone, she’s flirting and flirting hard.

Curious about the woman— who Seokmin clearly knows judging by how easily they converse, even if he’s awkwardly avoiding the flirtations, much to your relief— you cautiously move aside a little to peer through the gap above the door hinge to get a glimpse of the visitor.

You have to admit, she’s really pretty. The kind of pretty that would look perfectly at place hanging off of one of Seokmin’s strong arms. Visually, the pair really suit each other, they even seem of similar age, and it makes an irrational little flicker of insecurity appear in your chest. Clearly, Seokmin has no interest in this woman— though she doesn’t seem to get the hint— so what hope does that give you if he won’t give this well-matched woman a chance.

Thankfully, Seokmin manages to politely end the conversation shortly, and instead of keeping the door open to let you leave as the woman walks away, he shuts the door and leans his forehead against it with a heavy exhale.

“She’s pretty,” you comment without thought, making him tilt his head to look at you questioningly.

“She is,” he confirms as if it’s simple fact, an easy observation and nothing more than that. Like saying a flower is pretty. Actually, you’ve heard him compliment flowers much more enthusiastically than this.

“She clearly likes you,” you say, wishing you would shut up but unable to stop the words coming out as he straightens and turns to face you properly. “But you…don’t seem interested in her.”

“I’m not,” he says immediately, voice unwavering in a way that almost makes you think he’s making sure you know that. That he has no interest in that woman whatsoever, nor will he. But you don’t let yourself think that. You can’t let that hope return to your chest, even if the hole it left behind those weeks ago aches every time you see him.

“Why not?”

“What?” He frowns at you in bewilderment. “Do I need a specific reason?”

“No, sometimes you just don’t like people and that’s fine,” you assure with a little nod. “I’m just…wondering. Like, haven’t you even entertained the thought of a date with her?”

“No. She’s my neighbour and she’s away for work a lot, and from what she says, it’s often last minute.”

“Oh, you want to know your partner is there.”

“Not for me, well, not really.” He sighs softly then glances at his watch before chewing on his lip nervously while returning his gaze to you. “Do you need to get home right now? Can you stay for a bit?”

“Oh…you want me to stay?” you question surprised.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. It’s…important.”

“Oh, okay,” you agree and remove your shoes to place neatly on the place on the low rack— a place that used to house a spare pair of Seokmin’s dress shoes, but you haven’t seen those in a while and there is always a gap for your shoes now. You try not to think of the potential fact that Seokmin purposely put his shoes away in his room to make space for yours. A space for you.

Seokmin is in the kitchen when you enter the living room, and you can hear the kettle boiling, so you take a seat on the sofa and wait.

Minutes later, Seokmin joins you, placing two mugs down on the coasters still in place on the coffee table from your drinks earlier. His mug has a photo of baby Seoyeon printed on, a little worn with use, but still treasured. Your mug is new, newer than even your presence in the house; it’s dotted with sunflowers and yellow love hearts.

“So, uhm, has Seoyeon ever mentioned her mother?” he asks once he’s settled, leaning his right side against the back of the sofa so that he’s facing you, with his right arm braced on the back rest, and his right leg bent, foot tucked behind his left knee.

“Not once,” you answer honestly. It’s genuinely never occurred to you to question it either; sometimes it’s just better to not ask where missing parents are.

“I’m not surprised, she hasn’t mentioned her for a long time, since she was really little and before she understood what happened. But I just wondered; in case she mentioned something to you. I know she tells you pretty much everything, so it might’ve come up, or maybe you got curious.”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve been curious, but it’s not my business. If either of you want me to know, you’ll tell me without being prompted to,” you respond with a shrug.

“I really appreciate that. So many people hear that I’m a single parent and assume her mother died when Seoyeon was young, because obviously, that’s the only reason a mother wouldn’t be around,” he says with a sarcastic note to his voice, rolling his eyes a little too. You hum softly, letting him know that you understand what he means, even if not on a personal level. “She left us,” he says bluntly, making your eyebrows raise a little, more surprised about how he got right to the point. “She suddenly decided that she doesn’t want children when Seoyeon was only 4 months old.”

“What the fuck? She didn’t know that before?” you question flabbergasted.

“That’s the thing,” he says, sighing heavily. “It wasn’t like Seoyeon was a happy little accident; we planned for her. We got married at 22 and agreed to make sure we were completely financially stable before even thinking about extending our family. Then we were, and she said she wasn’t ready. So, we waited, and waited, and one day she told me she was ready. We planned everything; gave her time to be certain before she even stopped taking birth control. She seemed so excited and happy throughout the pregnancy too. I still don’t understand, and I don’t think I ever will, honestly.”

“That must’ve broken your heart,” you comment softly, sympathetically.

“It did,” he confirms with an almost sad little smile, but it doesn’t last, as if he was just being sympathetic to his memories and doesn’t truly hurt over it anymore. “But I wasn’t going to force her to stay. I didn’t want Seoyeon to grow up raised by a mother who doesn’t want her. So, we divorced and I had her sign full custody to me. She has no rights over my daughter and never will.”

“Good, she doesn’t deserve to be in Seoyeon’s life. Seoyeon deserves nothing but the best; to be loved until she bursts with it.”

Seokmin’s lips lift into a soft kind of smile as he nods in agreement to your words, gentle gaze glued to you and making a riot of your heart. “She really does. She always comes first, and I refuse to bring someone into her life who won’t be there for her.”

“Ah,” you say, understanding his lack of interest in his neighbour now. “I get it. I’d want the same for her if I were you.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he says softly, lowering his gaze to find your hands where they’re laid loosely on your lap. His hand on his own lap twitches a little, and for a second, you think he’s going to reach out to take your hand into his hold, but he presses his palm to his thigh and looks back up at you. “She’s never had a mother figure, so I don’t want to ever rush into things with someone if I’m not positive they’ll be around and willing to one day be a kind of mum to her. I wouldn’t expect it right away, of course, but I’m 42, Seoyeon is 14; we’re both too old to not be serious about who I bring into our family.”

“I understand.”

“You do?” He straightens a little and you nod at him.

“Yeah. You both deserve someone who is secure in where they are in life and knows where they want to go too. I…I hope you find that,” you say, wishing you could tell him that you’d be willing to fulfil that role right now, but you don’t want to push him when he needs to be ready on his own to open his heart to you. You don’t know if he ever will be, but that traitorous little hole in your chest fills slightly as a little hope slots back into place.

You hope that you’ve been proving yourself to him; that you’re more than willing to look after Seoyeon and stick around as much as she wants you to, no matter what happens between you and Seokmin. You hope that he understands that, but you’re really not sure and decide to just be patient and wait for the day he lets you know one way or the other.

Before you know it, the summer holidays come around, and you see less of Seoyeon. Due to schools being closed for the holidays and tourists popping up, Rainy Days Arcade faces a much higher level of foot traffic. Which, unfortunately, means that you don’t have as much time while at work to spend with Seoyeon, nor can you leave work early to drive her home.

Although she does still visit, it’s not often and not for long, not wanting to get caught up in the bustle of the arcade— even Skater can’t keep her company at the prize desk, and she gets mistaken for an employee when she sits there so often that she doesn’t want to risk it. You don’t blame her for picking her nice, quiet house over the hectic summer season of the arcade.

Every time you have a day off though— which is rare in the summer— you make sure to call her up to hang out, either at her house, or you’ve taken on going for drives to various places. Sometimes you just spend hours driving, listening to music, and stopping only so she can take photos, or for toilet breaks. You even bought her a travel painting kit, so on days you tell her you’ve packed a picnic, she brings the kit and the two of you sit on a blanket for hours as she contently paints, humming along to the music playing through your Bluetooth speaker.

Even though you know today will be a busy day at the arcade as it’s a Wednesday and they’re always busy, you have the day off. It’s not through choice, but a strict rule at Rainy Days Arcade where no-one can work on their birthday. So, of course, you plan to take advantage of that fact, and after responding to the barrage of birthday wishes in the work group chat, you message Seoyeon to check if she’s busy.

It doesn’t take long for her to excitedly agree to hang out, and add that her dad has today off too, so he can join!

You haven’t really seen much of Seokmin lately, even rarer than Seoyeon, but he does pop by on his own sometimes on his way home from work, to say hi and make sure you’re looking after yourself. You never point out that he can just text you to do that; you like seeing his handsome face too much to ever refuse his presence.

And today is no exception. You respond to Seoyeon just as enthusiastically to let her know you’ve still got to get ready, but you can come pick them up in half an hour. Moments later, she says they’ll come pick you up instead and her dad will drive; at his own insistence so that you can be the passenger princess for once. Thinking of Seokmin calling you princess, even indirectly, makes you giggle dopily before simply agreeing, then you rush off to get showered and dressed.

As soon as you step out of your front door and onto the exterior landing, you spot Seokmin’s car in the parking lot, a level below you. He must spot you too, because as you lock your door, he gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around to the passenger door in wait.

The moment you’re close enough to the car a minute later, Seokmin opens the door with a flourish, bowing at you. “Your carriage awaits,” he says, making you giggle.

“Why, thank you,” you respond with a curtsy, playing along without hesitation, making him grin at you. He offers his hand to help you into the car, then shuts the door and rushes around to the driver’s side as you turn in your seat to greet Seoyeon in the back. She’s already got her camera in her hands and lifts it to take a photo of you. You’re far used to it by now to do anything other than grin at her. When Seokmin is seated, he turns and grins too, making Seoyeon giggle and take a few photos of the both of you cheesing at her from the front seats.

“So, where to?” Seokmin asks once you’re both turned around and strapped in securely, as he starts the car back up.

“East,” Seoyeon declares, earning a questioning look from her dad. “What?”

“That’s very vague,” he points out.

“We rarely have a specific destination in mind when we go on drives,” you explain, making Seokmin hum in understanding and start to drive.

As the car reaches the end of the lot and he has to make a turn, he hesitates. “Do either of you have a compass on you?” he asks, making you and Seoyeon both giggle amusedly.

“Just go right,” you say.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees, sending a lick of heat into your stomach as he obeys your directions without hesitation.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s always so obedient; you remember how sweet he looked that day when you taught him how to play the game and he asked if he did a good job. You bet he’d look even better looking up at you from between your thighs as he asks for praise for doing such a good job.

Thankfully— or unfortunately, because it’s a really fucking good mental image—, Seokmin talks again, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality. The reality where he’s driving the car at your side and his daughter is in the backseat behind you both. “Have you eaten? We were thinking of stopping for breakfast pretty quickly. But we can get something to eat in the car.”

“There’s this really good place at the edge of town; On the Edge Café,” you inform. “Have you been?”

“No, but I remember passing it a few times. We can definitely go there.”

“Sound good, Bud?” you ask, peering over your shoulder at Seoyeon, who just nods in agreement. “We have approval,” you announce, making Seokmin chuckle as he smoothly switches lanes ready for the upcoming turn.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” he comments in a thoughtful tone. “I’ve noticed you and the arcade staff all call her Bud. I thought it was just like buddy at first, but it seems more like a standalone nickname.”

“Ah, it’s a bit of both really. It’s short for buddy, yeah, but everyone essentially considers her once of us, minus the working part, of course. Don’t worry, we’re not putting your daughter to work or anything,” you assure jokingly, making him laugh. “Everyone who works there, or is there enough to be one of us, has their own nickname. Seoyeon is Bud both because she’s our precious friend, and because well, she’s still growing and we don’t know what she’ll flower into, but we all know it’ll be beautiful and we’re excited to find out when the day comes.”

“Oh, that’s…she really will flower beautifully, won’t she,” Seokmin agrees in a tone so tender and full of love that even though it’s not directed to you, you can feel it all the same.

After breakfast, Seokmin drives East— or at least heads right as none of you care to actually be accurate about which direction you go— for hours without complaint.

The three of you sing along to the radio and you’re immediately besotted with his singing voice; which is how you find out that he’s been hiding his singing habit. According to Seoyeon, the man is always singing when you’re not around, but he hadn’t wanted to annoy you, while also being out of practise singing around anyone but his daughter, so he had been too shy to sing in front of you. You don’t hesitate to shower him in praise and make him promise to sing around you more, earning the cutest little shy yet pleased smile from the man, matched with prettily pinkened cheeks.

Eventually, Seokmin pulls over to do something on his phone, angling the screen away from you, making you give him a questioning look due to the playful way he’s doing it, making him giggle but he doesn’t show you. You can only look away to hide your dopey ass grin at his fucking adorable giggle.

He hands his phone to Seoyeon behind you and tells her to guide him, then he drives again. Seoyeon diligently follows the directions he must’ve found on his phone until Seokmin is parking in a little dirt parking lot with space for only a dozen cars at most. The lot is nestled just within a mass of trees, and although they don’t block out the summer sun, you can’t really see very far through them.

“Have you been here before? It must be a great photo spot for Bud,” you comment as the three of you get out of the car.

“No, I didn’t know about it until now,” Seokmin admits, walking to the boot to open it and pull out a picnic blanket and an insulated backpack.

“Did you pack a picnic?” you ask in shocked awe.

“Just a few things, it’s nothing special!” he insists, cheeks flushing pink as you take the blanket from him while he shuts the boot and locks his car. “Please don’t expect a lot.”

“I expect nothing, and this is already way above that. We should invite you to join us more often,” you tease and sling your arm around Seoyeon’s shoulders as the three of you head further into the trees along the trodden path.

Very quickly, you let go of Seoyeon and take her backpack from her to allow her to dart around taking photos of everything that catches her artistic eye.

“Do you know where we’re going or are we walking until we find a spot?” you wonder as Seokmin falls into step at your side.

“I know. Well…I hope I know,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

“So long as she’s happy, we could sit in the car park and I’d be happy. Well, provided we were in a safe place, I really don’t fancy getting run over today.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen,” he assures with a playful wink. “Gotta keep my passenger princess safe, right?”

“Does that make you my knight in shining armour?”

“Happily.” He sounds so honest, so certain, that you can’t help but turn your head away in hopes he won’t see the blush that suddenly rushes to darken your cheeks as your heart races almost violently in the abrupt strength of it.

A little under ten minutes of casual strolling later, stopping when Seoyeon gets particularly invested in getting a specific shot, or Seokmin puts his hand on you to prompt you to look at something— a touch you relish in, and pretend to not see what he’s showing you just so that he’ll move closer to you and keep his hand on your waist for longer—, the three of you step out onto an expanse of lush grass stretching out ahead of you up a little incline.

Seoyeon immediately gasps in excitement and runs off ahead to climb up to the peak of the small hill.

“This is what you found online?” you ask in a soft voice, utterly awed, as Seokmin once again puts his hand on the small of your back to lead you forward. You hadn’t even realised you had stopped still at the sight until now.

“Yeah. But this isn’t the best part,” he whispers as his hand slides around to hold your waist. Your heart skips a beat, and you press your lips together to not do something stupid like ask him to never let you go.

As soon as you crest the hill, you understand exactly what Seokmin meant. Although the hill doesn’t look big from the angle you approached, it’s much higher on the other side. You can see for miles around; the nearby town, the roads cutting through the hills and fields, the farms dotted around, but most importantly, you can see the field of sunflowers just at the bottom of the hill.

“Sunflowers,” you whisper, unable to talk any louder as you step closer to the other side with one hand to your chest as you look at your namesake.

“I’ve known there’s a sunflower field around here for a while now, I just didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to bring you here to see it,” Seokmin says. You think he’s talking to his daughter— who is a few metres ahead of you taking endless photos of the landscape— but then he stands on your left, and his hand brushes your back briefly. You wish he’d leave it there, but you know you can’t ask that.

“Me? You wanted to bring me here?” you ask in surprise.

“Yeah, you’re Sunflower,” he answers as if it’s all he needs to say, as if it’s a simple as that. Something in his full gaze locked onto you makes you think it isn’t. But you’re not brave enough to voice your suspicion. Not when that look is making the hole in your chest rapidly fill again, and you really don’t want it to be ripped out if he tells you that you’re wrong, or that he isn’t ready yet and may never be. You’d rather just keep it to yourself and enjoy the day.

“Do you think we could get close enough to take photos with them?” you wonder playfully as you turn your face forward again to escape his expression and move on before your chest can empty on your birthday of all days.

“If it will please my princess, I’ll find away,” he promises, mostly playful but you can hear the undercurrent of pure honesty. You don’t dare to look at him right now, too pink to be able to face anyone, let alone the man who makes your heart race. “For now, I’ll set up the picnic!” He takes the blanket from your hand and Seoyeon’s backpack from your shoulder then wanders off behind you to find the perfect spot.

The three of you spend hours on the hill.

Seoyeon spends most of the time carefully getting the view down onto the multiple tiny canvases she always keeps stocked up in her travel art kit. She even convinces you and Seokmin to have a go too. Neither of you are anywhere near as good at painting as Seoyeon, but you both paint a close up of a sunflower without realising, then laugh when you realise what happened once you reveal your finished masterpieces.

But mostly, you and Seokmin remain on the blanket while Seoyeon paints closer to the edge of the hill to have a better view. The two of you never face an awkwardly silent moment, even when a topic naturally ends and another doesn’t immediately pick up. It’s just…easy, to sit quietly at Seokmin’s side and enjoy the day with him. You even manage to convince him to sing for you and lay on your side as he lays on his back, face to the sky as he sings, but the romantic words settle behind your ribs so warmly.

As much as you would love to stay on that hill in a content, cosy little bubble with no thoughts of the world outside the three of you, both you and Seokmin have work in the morning, so reluctantly, the three of you pack up when the sun sets, and head back.

On the drive back home, Seokmin stops at a drive-through, realising that the picnic really isn’t a good substitute for dinner, and the three of you eat your meals on the road. You make a point of feeding Seokmin, insisting that he can’t take his hands off of the wheel— despite the fact he mostly drives with only one hand on the wheel anyway—, mostly just because he blushes so pretty and whines when Seoyeon laughs at him for it.

It's not particularly late when Seokmin pulls up infront of your building, but Seoyeon is asleep in the back, curled against the door and hugging her backpack in place of the childhood teddy bear you know she still sleeps with— something she had only admitted to after you told her you sleep with a few plushies on your bed and tend to hug one to sleep.

“Thanks for letting me tag along today, Sunflower, I really had a great day,” Seokmin says quietly, once you both realise that his daughter is sleeping away and neither of you want to risk waking her up yet.

“I don’t think it can be classed as tagging along when you drove, found the most beautiful picnic location, supplied said picnic, and paid for dinner.”

Seokmin shrugs, almost dismissively. “I’d do all that for you two any time. I’m just grateful you let me join your time together.”

“We love having you with us, Seokmin.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you assure confidently, making his lips curl up into a content smile.

“I’m glad. I really like being with you both too.” You smile at him and reach over to squeeze his hand on his thigh. You smile a little brighter, and so does he, when he turns his hand over to gently squeeze in response.

“I’ll treasure today’s memories for a long time,” you say honestly. “This was the best birthday I’ve had in years, thank you.” You try to turn and get out of the car, but Seokmin makes an alarmed sound, causing you to look at him with your own alarmed expression. “Are you okay?”

“It’s your birthday today?” he hisses in shock. You just nod. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve done something special!”

You look at him for a moment before smiling and leaning over to gently hold his worried face in your hands. You don’t miss the way he immediately melts against your palms, and his eyes turn big and round on you. “Today was so special to me. You don’t understand how happy I am, how happy you’ve made me with today. I don’t need or want any more than that. I expected nothing, and you still blew that out of the water.”

“I…okay,” he concedes, trusting the honesty on your features, so you nod in approval and let your hands slide away from his face to land gently on your lap. “I’m glad I could make your birthday special for you. You deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And happy birthday, by the way.” You giggle and thank him again before getting out of the car. You say goodbye and then he ushers you to your apartment, insisting he won’t leave until he’s seen your front door close behind you.

True to his word, Seokmin only starts the car back up when you open your front door, and it’s only once you’ve closed it behind you and peer out of the window beside it that you see his car driving away.

Just as you decide to call it a night and turn off the TV to head to bed, there’s a timid sounding knock on your door. It’s close to midnight now, and you’re really not expecting guests— especially when your friends and family never turn up out of the blue so late— so you’re confused and a little cautious as you inch towards the door. When you’re only steps away, there’s another knock, slightly louder as if they realised the first was maybe too quiet to be heard.

As soon as you recognise the figure on the landing when you peer through the spyhole, your confusion grows exponentially but worry blooms bright as the worst comes to mind as to why he would be knocking your door so late without prior warning.

As quickly as you can, you disengage the alarm, remove the latch, and unlock the door to open it and meet a fidgeting, pyjama clad Seokmin face to face. “Is Seoyeon okay?” you immediately ask, only to realise he’s wearing a shy, sheepish smile and is holding a cupcake in his hands with an unlit birthday candle sticking out of the top. “Oh…”

“Sorry, I know it’s late and I probably disturbed your sleep–”

“You didn’t,” you assure, not liking the guilt on his features. He relaxes, trusting that you’re being honest and smiles more naturally as he steps closer.

“I couldn’t sleep thinking about how it’s your birthday and you didn’t get to blow out a candle. Unless you did it with someone else…I should’ve considered that. You have family, and friends, and–”

“Seokmin,” you interrupt him for the second time, stepping closer to put one hand over his and making him look at you with such an endearingly cute expression that you can’t help but smile at him. “I haven’t seen anyone but you and Seoyeon today.”

“Ah, good. Well, not good that you haven’t seen anyone else, but good that I’m not making you blow out a second set of candles.” You just giggle and watch as he produces a lighter from his pocket and struggles with it for a few moments, long enough that he gets a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I just bought it, and I haven’t touched a lighter in years. We use matches at home, and I didn’t think to bring them.” Finally, the flame appears steady, and he makes a victorious sound before carefully setting the little white candle aflame, wick burning bright and strong without a breeze to tease it. “Make a wish,” he encourages softly, holding the cupcake closer to you.

Obligingly, you shut your eyes and clasp your hands together as you wish for a long, happy life with many birthdays like today with Seokmin and Seoyeon by your side.

When you open your eyes, you immediately blow out the candle then look up at Seokmin, finding him looking at you with what you can’t deny as utter adoration on his gently smiling features.

“Happy birthday, Sunflower.”

“Thank you,” you respond quietly.

Your breath catches when he steps even closer to you, only to reach past you and put the cupcake on the little table directly inside of the apartment under the window. It confuses you why he didn’t just give it to you, but then he wraps his arms around your waist in a hug so perfect you can only melt against his strong chest and clutch onto him in hopes he won’t let go too soon.

To your relief, Seokmin waits for you to lift your head off his shoulder before he loosens his hold. Though he doesn’t let you go; he lifts one hand to gently brush your hair out of your face then cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your warm cheek.

He leans in, holding your jaw a little firmer, and then tilts his head aside to kiss your cheek. Still, your heart races and skips over its own beats.

“I should go, we both have work in the morning,” he says as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed to match yours. He looks shy and flicks his eyes away from you quicker than he usually does. It’s utterly precious.

Not wanting to risk ruining anything, you obligingly release your hold on him and let him step back. “Thank you for coming all this way so that I get a birthday wish, Seokmin.”

“I hope your wish comes true.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’d say the same if he knew what you wished for. As you think about the way it seemed like he changed his aim at the last minute to kiss your cheek instead of your lips, you think he probably would.

Ever since your birthday, you’re pretty sure things between you and Seokmin have changed. Not in any wildly obvious ways, but in the ways you notice. The way he hovers around you more. The way he seems to find excuses to sit or stand near you. The way he lets his eyes linger when you catch him already looking at you, and he doesn’t shy away immediately, yet smiles to himself when he inevitably does.

Something has changed, and something is changing further, but you still keep back. You’re too scared you’ll scare him off if you let your interest and feelings show now. You’re not sure he’s actually ready for anything, because at this point you really can’t deny that he does like you. You wish he’d tell you that and let you know where he stands, so that you’re not constantly in a state of anxious anticipation for the moment he makes some kind of move. But you won’t push him.

You wait, and the hope in your chest swells as big as it’s ever been.

A week before the summer holidays end, Seokmin has to go away for a work trip. He’s only going to a city a few hours away, but he’s got a lot of work to do for a couple of different clients, so he’ll be away for a few days.

Initially, he planned to take Seoyeon with him, unwilling to leave her home alone for three days. Not because he doesn’t trust her— you think he trusts her more than anyone else, and more than you’ve ever seen a parent trust their child— but because he just can’t handle the thought of something potentially happening to his baby while he’s too far away to do anything about it or even know that something’s happened.

Yet when you offer to stay with Seoyeon for the few days, even saying you’ll get someone to cover as many as your hours at the arcade as possible, Seokmin doesn’t even get the chance to respond before Seoyeon pops up from behind the couch— you hadn’t even known she was done in the kitchen— and enthusiastically agrees. She even pulls out the puppy eyes and cutely pleads her dad to allow her to stay at home with you. Seokmin can’t say no to Seoyeon on the average day, let alone when she’s purposely acting cute; so just like that, you and Seoyeon start to plan your sleepover.

Almost as soon as Seokmin leaves— not long after the three of you have had dinner so that he can get to his hotel tonight and relax before his first meeting in the morning— you and Seoyeon break into almost manically excited giggles and rush to gather all the supplies you need.

Even though Seokmin assured you that you can take his bed for the days as they don’t have a guest room, you don’t spend a single moment in his room— even if a huge part of you would love to envelop yourself in his scent embedded into his bed.

While planning the sleepover, Seoyeon had requested the two of you sleep in the living room together, like a real sleepover— something she’s never had before. Of course, you didn’t even try to argue, didn’t want to, but you had one condition; the two of you make a fort to sleep in.

It takes two hours at least to get the fort exactly how the two of you want, and it’s a grand, cosy thing too. You’ve left the front mostly open, so that you can see the large TV from the masses of pillows and blankets cushioning the floor, and also so that you can easily get in and out without risking pulling the whole thing down on top of you.

Honestly, you think the fort is a work of art and you’re already planning to try and convince Seokmin to make it a permanent feature in the living room. Or at least a special, limited-edition feature for as long as he can deal with having no sofa to sit on. You’re pretty that sure between you and Seoyeon, you can wheedle at least a week and a half out of him, perhaps two if you bribe him with dinner, which, you are more than willing to do. Honestly, you’d be happy to make him dinner or take him out to dinner any given day without any ulterior motive, but he doesn’t know that, nor does he need to know that when it’ll work greatly to your benefit in this particular circumstance.

On the first morning of your sleepover, you and Seoyeon clamber out of the fort at a little after 10am and then immediately rush off to get ready for the day trip the two of you had planned the night before.

Not even half an hour after waking, the pair of you are in your car— eating breakfast on the go— and headed off for a day focused entirely on Seoyeon’s passion in life, art. You start by touring the huge art museum a few towns away, where you spend the majority of the day.

Every time Seoyeon stops at a piece that really catches her eye, you can’t help but take photos on your phone; partly to send a few to her dad, but mostly because you utterly adore the shine to her big eyes and awed smiles as she takes in every inch of the masterpiece. Of course, you don’t argue when she wants to stop and try to recreate the artwork in her sketchbook that she’s clutched close to her chest the entire tour, even as she takes photos on her camera for future reference too.

There’s a decent sized café at the museum, so you stop for a late lunch there, enjoying the dishes and drinks named after pieces homed in the museum. When Seoyeon comments on how much her dad would like the hand decorated sugar cookies, you buy a box to take home for him, while she just giggles amusedly at your concentration in picking out the perfect cookies for the man.

After the museum, there’s a little time to kill before the evening night art class you signed up for. It’s situated on the roof of the tallest building in the city, where you’re all given free access to various paints, pastels, and pencils to recreate the skyline in your own styles. You’re not the best at art, but you try your hardest and also try not to encourage the flirting of one of the instructors as he helps you get your vision onto paper.

Of course, Seoyeon does an incredible job with her painting, and you’re tempted to ask her for her finished piece, but you think Seokmin would adore having it hanging in the entrance hall, where there’s a proud shrine to his daughter’s work for all visitors of the Lee house to gaze upon reverently.

By the time you get back to the Lee house, you both have just enough energy to throw together a quick dinner, before curling up in the fort and falling asleep excited for another day out together tomorrow.

On the second day, the pair of you wake up with unimpressed pouts as your alarm rings, neither of you quite cognisant enough to realise why you set an alarm for 6:30am when you don’t even have work for another couple of days. Though once you realise, you both scramble excitedly off to get ready for today’s trip.

After four hours, including stops to stretch your legs and refuel— both the car and yourselves—, you arrive at the beach and can’t help but marvel at the beauty of the hidden cove, barely populated despite the time of day and summer season. All day, the two of you are in awe of how it never gets busy; it remains a calm little pocket of beauty outside the bustle of tourist trap beaches.

While at the beach, you send a photo— or multiple— to Seokmin, who video calls an hour later, both to pout about the two of you going to the beach without him, and to check in and get a full run down of your time together while he has some time to kill before his next meeting. You let Seoyeon do most of the talking and simply sit back with a fond little smile on your face as you watch the pair match one another’s enthusiasm with identical, bright smiles, and sparkling eyes.

You think you could spend the rest of your life watching the father-daughter duo interact and be truly happy. You think if you were blessed with that life, you’d never need nor want for more.

After two days of driving for hours at a time, and walking for hours, and lounging under the sun and playing in the sea for hours, you and Seoyeon need a lazy day to recharge.

On the third— and final— day of your sleepover, the two of you wake a little after 9am, and remain in the fort dozing and watching TV for another hour before you heave yourself up to make you both breakfast.

Seoyeon is almost asleep again when you return, but she becomes more alert at the scent of food and sleepily sits up to let you place her tray on her lap. “Can we go get snacks?” she asks as the two of you sit side by side while you eat and watch the show she’s put on. You just hum in agreement, then smile to yourself when you catch her wiggle happily in your periphery.

“No,” you refuse as soon as you see the packet of giant marshmallows Seoyeon has found somewhere in the store and trotted over to the shopping trolley with. She pouts at you cutely. “You and your dad have zero self-control where marshmallows are concerned, I am banning you both from them for the foreseeable future. At least until I forget the sight of you puking up pastel two weeks ago.”

“I’ll only eat one at a time!” she promises.

“That doesn’t mean one packet,” you clarify, making her giggle and you just know she would’ve used that non-specification as a loophole. “I’m going to buy a lock box to keep them in,” you warn, taking the packet from her hands to toss into the trolley, making her cheer happily. “A big lock box; that’s a huge bag, Bud.”

“I’ll share.”

“With me or do you mean one in each hand?” you joke, making her shove you a little at the tease, though she’s grinning, so you know she doesn’t mind.

“Can we have pizza for dinner?” she requests as you enter a new aisle and immediately grab a large bag of rice from the shelf, knowing that the Lee’s pot is getting low and Seokmin somehow always forgets to buy more rice. You’re pretty sure you’ve bought the last few bags of rice, not that you mind at all, nor do you accept Seokmin’s offers to pay you back. He feeds you multiple times a week, the least you can do is keep them topped up on rice.

“You really are your father’s child,” you muse and she nods. “I’m not making it. We’ll order in.”

“Hell yeah,” she enthuses, making you snort a laugh. “You should stay one more night, so you can be there in the morning for dad’s pancakes. He promised to make them the first morning he’s back.”

“I have work the day after your dad’s back, I need to get up too early for you two to be awake.”

“We’ll get up for breakfast with you.”

“Bud, I’d have to leave at 7 at the latest, I have stuff to do before the arcade even opens.”

“Can’t someone else do it?”

“No,” you laugh and put your arm around her shoulders to pull her against your side while she pouts. “We’ll have pancakes at some point. They don’t just have to be a breakfast food, you know?”

“Dad’s weird about stuff like that. He said it’s called breakfast for a reason. You’ll have to stay over another day when you both don’t have to be up early, so we can have breakfast together,” she decides.

It sounds nice; spending the night and having breakfast with the pair, something like a dream come true, honestly. You don’t have it in you to argue with the girl when you want that as much as she seems to, so you just hum and let go of her to motion to a jar on the shelf for her to grab while you get something from another self. Thankfully, the topic is forgotten after that, and you can push it to the back of your mind and focus on shopping.

Something makes you jerk awake. You’re really confused for a moment until you hear a noise in the entrance hall. Suddenly, you’re wide awake and creep out of the fort, grabbing your phone as you go and unlocking it ready to call the police if need be.

Though as soon as you carefully peer into the entrance hall, you relax and lock your phone. “You’re early,” you comment, stepping into the hall as Seokmin jumps in surprise, having been too focused on trying to get his shoes off where he’s perched on the stool and fighting with the too tightly tied laces of his dress shoes. He’s still in one of his work outfits— shirt unbuttoned a little too far and sleeves roughly rolled up his forearms to fight the summer heat, even if it’s late now so a lot cooler than it was earlier.

“Ah, yeah, I just…really wanted to come home,” he admits a little bashfully, straightening up and smiling at you. “Did I wake you?”

“Mm, but it’s okay, I’m glad you’re back. Going to join us in the fort?” you offer, motioning to the lounge with a tired, yet still cheeky little grin that makes him chuckle.

“If there’s room.” You nod enthusiastically, earning another little chuckle. “Alright. I’ll take my stuff upstairs and shower, then I’ll be right there…as soon as I get these off.”

“Want some help?” you offer with a soft laugh, already moving over to kneel in front of him and reach for his shoes before he can answer.

It goes to show how sleepy you are that you don’t even conjure images of what else you can do on your knees infront of the man, his thick thighs spread right in front of your face when you’re upright. But you’re not upright, you’re bending down low to get a good look at his laces and untangle the tight knot that he’s made worse with his tugging.

Once you’ve got both shoes undone, you remove them from his feet and get up to put them in their usual place on the shoe rack, entirely unaware that Seokmin has done nothing but stare a little dumbly at you as you work. At least until you turn and look at him, finding his big eyes locked on you, mouth dropped open.

You giggle amusedly and then walk over to brush your fingers over the dark marks under his eyes, giving away that he’s tired, no doubt from being away from home and the long drive back so late at night. “Come on, sleepy pants, you need to go to bed, and so do I.” You pick up his hands from his lap and tug until he obediently gets to his feet, still staring down at you with that same expression. “Do I need to take you upstairs myself, Seokmin?” you muse.

Finally, Seokmin snaps out of it and shakes the daze from his head, lips curling into a smile again. “No, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” you agree and let him go a little reluctantly— you could swear his fingers curl against yours until they can’t anymore, as reluctant as you are to let go— before returning to your space in the fort, hearing Seokmin clamber up the stairs with his luggage a few moments later.

By the time Seokmin joins you— truly not even that long later— you’re practically asleep again, curled on your side facing Seoyeon but stubbornly trying to remain awake until he’s in his rightful space. As he ducks into the fort on his daughter’s other side, you smile sleepily at him, and he smiles back.

You watch as he settles under the blanket beside his daughter. He takes the time to make sure she’s tucked in comfortably and presses a love filled kiss against her head before looking at you as he remains propped up on his left hand.

“Tell me about your trip in the morning,” you suggest, words starting to slur as you lose the fight with your eyelids and they flutter shut, sleep already close to dragging you under. “You can make us pancakes.” You barely hear Seokmin’s answering chuckle and agreement, you can barely feel the gently brush of fingers tucking your hair out of your face. “We missed you.”

You can’t be sure, you’re already falling asleep, but you think you feel something against your forehead, something that feels awfully like a kiss, and then you’re asleep and you can’t think about it anymore.

Before you know it, the summer holidays are over, Seoyeon goes back to school, and Rainy Days Arcade feels almost empty during the weekdays again.

Despite being practically raised in this very arcade, despite how many years you’ve worked here and witnessed this happened every September, it still makes your heart ache a little to no longer spend the workday seeing smiling faces everywhere you turn.

Though, of course, you can always rely on Skater to cheer you up.

“Hey, look, I got a tattoo of you,” Skater declares one afternoon; after watching you mope around the arcade since the morning, only picking up when you come across a customer as you wait for the afterschool rush.

“What?” you ask, utterly bewildered and a little concerned. You don’t truly believe the man would actually get a tattoo of you— even with his major crush and borderline harmless obsession with you— but you also know that he and Noodle went out with Tiger and some others last night and drank far too much.

Noodle is still sprawled across some seats in the snack bar, snoring away and clutching an empty noodle pot in an attempt to get over his hangover. Skater hadn’t been in a much better condition when he turned up for work; though he thankfully gets over his hangovers pretty quickly with some food in him and a powernap curled up on the floor under a table in the snack bar— you stopped trying to get him to sleep there years ago—, so he’s fine now. But the condition of him when he turned up makes you think he was definitely in a position last night to make a really fucking dumb decision. And Tiger, as you have learned, is full of dumb ideas.

Tentatively, you lean over the prize desk to peer at where Skater has the rip in his jeans pulled, revealing the little cartoon sunflower on his thigh. Immediately, you reach out and slap his arm, making him crack up laughing. It’s just a temporary tattoo, one that can be claimed from the prize desk in exchange for a couple of tickets.

“Asshole, I was worried for a moment there!” you admit and hit him again for good measure.

“Why are we beating him up?” Curly asks as she steps up on your right, holding her youngest child against her chest in a sling, making both you and Skater immediately coo at the 8-month-old. Neither of you answer her question, too occupied in making the baby gurgle and laugh, but Curly doesn’t mind.

“What brings you by?” you wonder almost ten minutes later, when you straighten up and look at the adult attached to the adorable little baby.

“Gremlin number two broke gremlin number three’s plushie you gave her last time she was here,” she explains, meaning that her second oldest child broke the plushie of her third oldest— or second youngest—; a plushie you gave the little girl a few weeks back, when she had been so in awe of the weird looking frog-creature.

“Ah,” you nod in understanding and move behind the desk to unlock the back display and pull down another of the weird looking plushies to hand over. “Tell gremlin two that he won’t be allowed to play here if he isn’t nice to the other gremlins.”

“Will do,” Curly agrees with a laugh. “We’ll probably be by this weekend; their cousins are coming to visit, and you know the husband can’t handle that many kids in the house at once.”

“Rate he knocks you up, you’d think he’s trying to have that many kids,” Skater jokes.

“Oh, we’re done now,” Curly declares, patting the baby against her to show he’s the last one. “Got two of each, better not upset those odds.”

“May the odds be ever in your favour,” Skater says, and you both ignore him, far too used to the random quotes after working with him for four years now.

“Speaking of kids, how is your plan to become Bud’s stepmother going?”

“I’m not trying to be her stepmother,” you correct, though sigh forlornly and flop against the desk. “But I wouldn’t mind. I love her, she’s the best.”

“She really loves you too, it’s obvious. She looks up to you a lot,” Curly says, petting your head and laughing softly when you lean into it like an animal when she stops too fast for your liking. “You’re good for her. He must see that.”

“He does, I think,” you answer, tilting your head to pout at the woman you consider an aunt. She coos at you and brushes the loose strands of hair back from your sulking features. “But he hasn’t given any indication that he’s ready to bring me into their lives like that. I’m like 76.2% sure that he does like me. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s almost kissed me at least twice now!”

“Damn, lucky guy,” Skater mutters. “What I’d give to almost kiss you.”

“You literally asked for a kiss for your birthday,” you deadpan at him.

“In my defence, I was very drunk, and I do not remember that night at all. I still don’t believe you did it,” he comments honestly. “I think you and Noodle are just fucking with me.”

You stare at him for a moment then abruptly straighten, grab his face, and plant a kiss on his parted in surprise lips. When you pull back after barely a second, his eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and his cheeks already pink and only growing brighter.

“I–” he chokes out, then rushes off, tripping over his own feet and catching himself on a games machine, causing the alarm to start blaring. He yelps and glances at you, so red now that you’re genuinely a little concerned, before he motions to the machine limply then bolts to the snack bar, no doubt to freak out to his best friend.

“I should deal with that,” you mutter, then sigh and wander over to the machine to turn the alarm off.

“I’ve gotta go, the gremlins will be coming out of school soon,” Curly announces when you return to the prize desk, deciding that someone is going to have to cover Skater until he’s functional again, and you don’t exactly have anything better to do right now, so you may as well do it.

“Ah, right,” you respond, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you, then back at her. “Give them all hugs from their auntie Sunflower.”

“Will do. If you torment Skate again, record it; everyone will be sad they missed it.”

“Not like it’s not on CCTV,” you muse, motioning vaguely to one of the many security cameras around the arcade; a few are directed at the prize desk, and you know at least one has a perfect view of Skater’s freak out.

“Send it in the work chat,” Curly suggests as she backs up, grinning at you. You just laugh and nod in agreement before watching her walk off.

Almost half an hour later, Skater returns half hiding behind Noodle, who is wearing a shit-eating grin. “He wants to request the rest of the day off because he can’t even look at you right now,” Noodle announces once he’s on the opposite side of the desk to you, and Skater is staring wide eyed at his best friend’s left shoulder from barely inches behind it.

“I didn’t think he’d freak out this much,” you muse. “He kept asking for more last time.”

“He was drunk,” Noodle retorts. “Anyway, can we go? It’s about to get busy with teenagers soon and my head still hurts.” He pouts at you, cutely pleading with his eyes.

“You can do what you want, Nood. But he needs to get someone to cover his shift if he’s leaving,” you remind with a shrug. “I can’t do it; I’ve got to take Bud home tonight. Seokmin’s making lasagne and I am not missing it.”

“Go,” Noodle encourages his best friend as he looks over his shoulder at him, even nudging the taller male when Skater remains in place. “Go find someone to cover the desk. Pretty sure I saw Violet earlier, and by saw, he sat watching me sleep for like twenty minutes.”

“In his defence, you sleep talk and it’s hilarious,” you muse as Skater scuttles off in search of the older man— or someone else to cover his shift.

“I’m hilarious when I’m awake too,” Noodle declares. You suck your teeth and he gawps, reaching over to flick you in offense, making you snigger. Then he leans onto the desk to talk to you with wide eyes and a grin. “You can get the kiss cam footage from the CCTV, right?”

“Curly’s already told me to send it in the group chat,” you answer, making him let out a weird little laugh before he leans back to his side of the counter.

Not long later, Skater returns, not with Violet but your own dad, making your eyebrows lift in surprise, before you grin and bounce around the desk to greet him with a hug.

“I didn’t know you’re coming by today,” you comment.

“Your mum’s working on the beds out front,” he explains, motioning to the front of the arcade, making you gasp then rush off to find your mother, where she’s already kneeling on her foam mat, gardening tools at her side, and gloves on her hands to weed the flower beds decorating the front of the arcade.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she coos when you sit at her side to hug her. She leans into the embrace but doesn’t lift her hands from the pot, not wanting to get soil on you.

“No job today?” you ask and she shakes her head before going on to tell you about the job she and your dad were supposed to start today for their landscaping business, but the client cancelled at the last minute, despite the fact that the expensive custom pebble mix had been ordered. 

The two of you stay out there talking as she works on the flowerbeds and hanging planters long enough that the arcade is filling with students looking to relax and hang out after school.

When Seoyeon arrives, she looks a little bewildered, not recognising your mother, but you quickly introduce the pair and Seoyeon relaxes, though gets a little shy. Still, your mum obviously adores her already and as she already knows who Bud is after hearing about her from you and the other staff over the past months, she quickly tells you to bring her and her dad over on the weekend for a barbeque while the weather is still good enough for it.

Knowing how shy Seoyeon can get— and is clearly feeling right now— you take her into the arcade and leave your mum gardening in peace.

“You don’t have to come,” you assure the teen as the two of you head to the snack bar after you’ve peered at the prize desk and spotted your dad contently sitting on the stool behind it and watching over the place.

“You’d really be okay with it?” Seoyeon asks as the two of you sit down at your usual table and she pulls some homework from her bag for you to look at and decide if it’s possible to start it here, or if it’s something you’ll have to help her with her home where you can both concentrate better. “Me and dad with your family?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” you respond, looking at her a little puzzled. “They invite the staff over a few times a year for events, and sometimes Skater tags along when I visit them.”

“I’m not staff though; I’m just a kid.”

“Hey,” you argue, turning to face her better. “You’re not just a kid. You’re someone very important to me, okay? I care about you a hell of a lot, Seoyeon; enough that, yes, I’ve talked about you to my parents so much that they even ask about you now. Mum’s wanted to meet you for a while, it’s just not been viable with her working, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I still don’t. You can say no; nobody will be mad if you’re not comfortable with going to their place and spending time with us all.”

“Oh…You’re really okay with us coming? Meeting your parents?”

“Yeah. Doc and MD will likely be there, so you’ll already know them. Plus, Doc’s wife. And my brother maybe, if he comes home from school this weekend,” you inform with a shrug. “He always brings lots of sweets and cakes to share; both because he’s obsessed with sugar, and because he claims he’s securing future patients.” Seoyeon gives you a questioning look. “He’s studying to be a dentist.”

“Oh.” She giggles amusedly. “Should we bring anything?”

“You want to come?” Seoyeon nods in confirmation and you grin before hugging her excitedly. She giggles some more and happily hugs you back. “We’ll talk to your dad about it later. Hopefully, he’ll agree.”

To both of your genuine surprise, when you and Seoyeon bring up the barbeque when the three of you are lounging on the sofa watching a movie after dinner, Seokmin doesn’t agree.

“What? No?” Seoyeon repeats, straightening up from her usual place in between you and her dad to look at him in betrayed shock. “Why no?”

Seokmin shuffles to sit up straighter and turns a little to face the pair of you, though he’s looking directly at Seoyeon. “Snowdrop, they’re having a family barbeque and–”

“Her mum invited us!” Seoyeon interrupts. “Sunflower didn’t, her mum did! We’re not intruding on family time.”

Seokmin sighs heavily, and for the first time, he looks a little frustrated towards his daughter. Part of you feels like you shouldn’t be here, but part of you knows it’s related to you and your family, so you’re perfectly within your rights to remain. “Let’s discuss this later, okay?” he says pointedly, and despite what you felt seconds ago, now you feel like you’re unwelcome here. It’s not something you’ve ever felt in the house, or around the pair.

“I get the hint,” you mutter and get up. “See you tomorrow, Bud,” you say, squeezing her arm a little before walking to the entrance hall to get your shoes on.

“No!” Seoyeon argues while getting up, shoving her dad’s hand from her hand to follow you. “Don’t go. You never leave before I’m in bed.”

“Your dad obviously wants to have a private conversation with you, so it’s time for me to leave,” you explain as you sit on the stool to pull your shoes on.

“We don’t need a private conversation about this! It’s about family– you–your family…I mean.” You look up at her and find her suddenly withdrawn a little. It makes you think that her little trip up with her words means something.

“Bud…” you give up with your shoes, removing them again so that you can walk over and gently take a hold of her face to make her look at you. She looks like she could cry any second and it breaks your heart. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” you ask softly.

“I…I hate it when you leave,” she admits with a sniffle. “I like it when you’re here, with us, where–where you belong. You’re…I want you to be family with us and not in the way people call friends. I mean real family.”

You don’t know what to say, you genuinely hadn’t ever thought she’d want that. Maybe in the future if Seokmin came around and you two got together, but you’re just friends.

“I think we should talk,” Seokmin’s voice makes you look over to where he’s standing by the entrance of the living room, arms crossed over his chest and an expression on his face that you can’t read as he watches his daughter try not to cry.

Although you don’t want to leave, you know it’s not your place to argue; it’s Seokmin’s house, his daughter who is upset, not yours. So, you nod and only kiss Seoyeon’s head before letting your hands drop away so that you can move to grab your shoes, willing to leave with them in your hands at this point.

But before you can get far, Seokmin speaks back up. “I meant us, Sunflower,” he says, making you look at him in surprise. “Can you give us a minute, Snowdrop?” he requests as he stops beside his daughter. As soon as he puts a gentle hand on her back, she jerks away and storms off to the living room. Seokmin waits for the movie to start and the volume to get turned up to give you privacy to talk before he steps closer to you. “Do you remember the talk we had? About Seoyeon’s mother and dating?”

You blink at him a few times before nodding while lowering your shoes back to the floor. “You want to be sure whoever you date will stick around.”

“And be ready to be our family one day, when ready,” he adds and you nod. “And you said that you hope I find that.”

“I do. You deserve it, you both do.”

“Thank you.” He gives you a little smile that doesn’t meet the ache in his eyes. “I told Seoyeon about that talk because I tell her everything and it felt important to tell her.”

“I understand,” you respond honestly, not at all upset at him for talking to Seoyeon about it; it’s probably something she deserves to know anyway.

“Why are you always so understanding?” he suddenly asks, looking even more pained, utterly bewildering you. “I don’t know how to deal with you.”

“What?” you deadpan.

“Not like that!” He groans frustratedly at himself and buries his face in his hands. You watch his shoulders move as he takes a few deep breaths before he drops his hands and looks at you. “I want to deal with you. I–I want you around too, it’s not just Seoyeon that wants you here, Sunflower.”

“Then ask me to be,” you say simply, moving a little closer while he stares at you in disbelief.

“But…you said you hope I find that.”

“Yes, I do hope that.”

“I…I thought you meant with someone else.”

“No. I want it to be with me, but if you want someone else–”

“No. Never,” he argues firmly and quickly moves closer to take your face into his hands, staring down at you so seriously, so heated that your heart races. “I was trying to tell you that day what I want from you, what I’d expect if you agree. I thought your response meant you don’t want that, and then you…backed off.”

“I thought you were telling me you weren’t ready,” you admit. “So, I was giving you space to decide in your own time. I’d already done all I could to prove that you can trust me with your family, so it was just down to you to be ready.”

“Oh…” he relaxes as a smile lifts his lips. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

You can’t help but laugh and his smile grows wider. “Yeah, you are a bit.”

“Hey!” he complains, though there’s no heat to it, and instead of pulling away in offense, he leans closer in adoration. “I’d really like to stop being stupid and let you know how I feel about you.”

“Mm, and how do you plan on doing that?” you muse, lifting your hands to hold onto his waist loosely, then a little tighter when you remember that he’s likely ripped under his clothes based on the size of his thighs and arms.

“I’ll write you a poem,” he declares seriously, then giggles when you give him an unimpressed look. “Serenade you from outside of your window with a boombox?”

“Okay, I would actually love that. I love your voice,” you decide, making him blush prettily and smile shyly under the compliment. “My neighbours might not appreciate it though, so how about you just serenade me face to face at a later point?”

“A later point?” he teases. “Not now?”

“No, you should do what I’m pretty sure you’ve almost done a few times before today.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Kiss me.”

“You noticed?”

“I don’t think you realise how much attention I pay to you, Seokmin. I’ve been kind of obsessed with your handsome face since I first saw it.” The shy little whine he lets out makes you giggle. “You’re so ridiculously cute for a 42-year-old man, you know?”

“Please don’t remind me how much older than I am,” he complains, adjusting his hold on your face to hold you a little more securely.

“You’re a DILF.”

He gives you an unimpressed look, though it slips away almost instantly and he chuckles, looking pleased by your words. “Okay, I’ll accept that,” he smirks smugly, then leans in to brush his nose against yours. “I can really kiss you?”

“Whenever the fuck you like, seriously,” you enthuse.

Seokmin chuckles then finally, finally, finally presses his lips to yours. His lips are still a little sticky from the marshmallows that he and Seoyeon puppy-dog-eyed out of you immediately after dinner, and there’s still gel in his hair from work when you lift your hands to run through it, but you think it’s a perfect kiss all the same. And quickly turns heated in an also very perfect way, in your so humble opinion.

The two of you pull apart minute later when you hear a little yelp from the living room and turn to find Seoyeon scrambling away from the doorway, clearly having decided to spy on the two of you yet found you making out in the entrance hall.

“She definitely saw,” you muse, looking back at Seokmin as you wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

“I’m very certain that’s the first time she’s seen me kiss someone,” he comments, looking like he’s not sure if he should run away and hide from the awkward embarrassment of his daughter seeing him grabbing your ass with his tongue teasing yours. Though he turns his slightly panicked look on you and it melts away as his hands— unfortunately— move away from your ass and to a safe spot on your waist. “Are you really okay with this? That being with me means becoming her mum one day? Not for a while, it’s too soon for that, even if I love seeing you two together and how good you are with her. But in the future.”

“You think I’d have just let you grab my ass if I wasn’t committed to this? Both of you?”

“To be honest, I think you wanted me to grab your ass from the moment we met,” he comments, partly cheeky, partly cocky.

You automatically open your mouth to argue, only to realise you can’t and instead giggle. “Okay, that’s true. But things have changed. I just wanted to take you for a ride or twelve then, now I want to ride you for the rest of my life.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, cheeks a little pink, but his eyes a little darker. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me to?”

“Oh, that’s not it at all,” he insists, eyes widening a little. “The day you taught me to play that game and pressed your ass against me, I couldn’t think of anything else that night.”

“I probably would’ve let you flip my skirt and bend me over that game, by the way,” you announce off-handedly, as if it it’s such a normal thing to say to your brand new, fresh out of the box DILF-boyfriend. God, you can’t want to play with him.

“You’re going to kill me,” he croaks out, fingers digging into your flesh as he tries to not let that mental image take over his mind. He’ll be unable to function if so.

“And you’re going to enjoy every second of it,” you coo and tap his nose, making his somewhat constipated expression break as he smiles.

“Yeah, I will.” He kisses you once more— innocently this time— then lets you go and steps back. “Even though I’m very sure she already knows, let’s go tell Seoyeon,” He suggests, while offering his hand to you. You nod in agreement and take the offer, immediately lacing your fingers together and walking close enough to him that you can nervously hug his arm to your chest.

Although Seoyeon had already basically said she wants you to be with her dad and be her pseudo-mother, you’re pretty sure she never wanted to see you and her dad lip locked, especially not like you were, so you’re nervous she’ll have changed her mind upon realising what the two of you being in a relationship really means.

Though as soon as she looks at the two of you, her slightly disturbed expression leaves and she smiles brightly. You let go of Seokmin to dart over and tackle Seoyeon down in a hug, making her laugh as she hugs you back just as enthusiastically.

“Does this mean you’re moving in?” she questions as you sit up and allow her to sit too, before you pull her against your side, arms around her shoulders and head resting on hers, and she curls right into your arms.

“No, it’s too soon for that,” you answer as Seokmin sits behind Seoyeon and pulls you both into his own arms, dropping a kiss on both of your heads that makes you and Seoyeon smile at the affection. “But I imagine there will be more sleepovers.”

“Not always like last time,” Seokmin adds quickly. “I love the fort, so we’ll definitely have to rebuild it and do that, but I will want time with Sunflower on my own.”

“Ew, gross, I don’t want to know about that!” Seoyeon exclaims in complaint, making you laugh, which turns into cackles when you see Seokmin’s wide eyed, flustered expression.

“I didn’t mean for that!” he defends. “I–I just meant to cuddle!”

“Tell that to what I saw in the hallway,” Seoyeon mutters and you laugh harder while Seokmin whines.

“So!” you start a few moments later when you’ve stopped laughing. “About this weekend.” The Lee pair look at you in sync, making your smile widen. They’re so cute. “Are you still against going, Seok? Because I’d really like to introduce my boyfriend to my family.”

“Boyfriend,” Seokmin repeats a little dumbly.

“Yes, that is what you are,” you confirm amusedly. “Or do you prefer to be called partner?”

“That makes me think of cowboys,” he admits, making you and Seoyeon giggle. “Or cops,” he adds and oh, now you’re thinking about roleplay.

You wonder if Seokmin would dress up as a cop if you offer to be handcuffed to the bed. Or maybe a cowboy and he can tie you with rope. Or you can be a cowboy— it sounds better for roleplay than cowgirl— and he can be a wild beast you have to tame, with rope. You just really think someone should be tied up or tied down. Either way, you’re willing to buy out the entire bondage section of your preferred supplies website, he’s just got to say green. Green means go to go, after all.

“Sunflower?” Seokmin’s voice bring you out of your thoughts and back to reality with a questioning hum. “You okay?” You just nod, so he drops it and returns to the topic at hand— unfortunately not him dressed in a cop uniform and telling you to get on your knees. “I’d really love to meet your parents as your boyfriend.”

“Really?!” you ask excitedly, face lighting up, which only grows when he nods in confirmation with a smile upon seeing your joy. “You’re the best!” you cover Seoyeon’s eyes and lean over to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s lips, making him chuckle softly.

“Are you going to make a habit of that?” Seoyeon asks as you settle back, turning to face the TV and the two of you copy, even as Seoyeon remains tucked between you both with your right arm around her, and Seokmin’s left on the back of the sofa behind you both.

“Kissing your dad’s pretty face?” you question and she pulls a face while Seokmin smiles shyly pleased at the compliment. “Hell fucking yeah, I am.”

Seoyeon bursts into giggles at your response, while Seokmin sighs, trying to hide his own laugh, then goes on to scold you about swearing like that around the baby. Seoyeon starts to argue with him about being called a baby while you watch the pair with your chest full and warm of the love you have for the duo. A love you just know will last for the rest of your life, and you’re excited as fuck to spend it with them.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

[gent1es3xy]

AGHHHH I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH TOO, this is definitely one of my comfort favs with the Hoshi one too <333 SEOYEON IS THE CUTEST THING EVER OMLL I ADORE HER SM <3 - Dilf Seokmin is what I need in life LMAOOO

[cut1esdokyeom]

Stop i love it sm that I have to reblog it again on my side blog LAMAOOAOA, ugh it’s so cute and I can’t stop thinking about it <3

[bei-b]

wow these villains are TeRRiFYinG 😈

[bei-b]

DK's monthly meeting: it all went downhill from there + bonus: HanSoonBoo spill the tea under the cut

(see Going Seventeen Chat, Chat #1 for more details)

[cut1esdokyeom]

Oh my sweet Seokmin, he just wanted his Harry Potter dinner 🥲 </3

[malewife-dokyeom]

[cut1esdokyeom]

yes. I don’t make the rules, no questions asked.

[chwedout]

okay ??

[cut1esdokyeom]

AGHHHHHHH oh he knows what he’s doing

[arwen-u]

HELLO?? HE'S CRAZY OMG, TOO FINE FOR THIS

[cut1esdokyeom]

WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOFOWOFOWOFOWOFOWOOFOWOF, Lee Seokmin you’re gonna make me pass out oml. THE BROWN JACKET AND THE SHAGGY HAIR??? THE TURTLE NECK??? YES, I just know I’m gonna thirst over this concept when it comes out, trust me

Ngl, I wish they didn’t put the blue eye contacts on him because I LOVE his natural eye color and thought it would’ve brought his eyes out more if he didn’t have the blue! That’s just a personal opinion though, other people may like it but oml his dark brown eyes <3

[randomblog-things]

SAVE ME CUTE MAN WITH BOOBA EYES SAVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[cut1esdokyeom]

OH.EM.GEEEEEE, so cutie <333333

[gent1es3xy]

Genuine question, does anyone remember when and exactly why they chose their ult bias/current biases?

I have no idea how Woozi even got onto my radar when at first my ult was Dokyeom since he was the one who got me into Seventeen but abruptly Woozi came out of nowhere and stole that spot ?? I have no recollection of why I like him so much, it just happened LMAOO

Atp it feels like your biases choose you instead of you picking them 😭

[xomakara]

Prince of Light | Lee Seokmin

SUMMARY |  Radiant and adored, Crown Prince Seokmin feels used by those around him. When he’s paired with someone labeled a “villainess,” he begins to see your true, kind heart—and realizes he’s not alone in feeling trapped.

PAIRINGS |  Crown Prince Seokmin x Villainess/Mage!Reader 

GENRE | angst, drama, fantasy, arranged marriage, smut, romance

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  non-idols au, fantasy themes, fantasy religious themes, villainess trope, domestic fluff, family and political drama, family drama, swearing, assassination attempts, mentions of death, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks!), first time (virgin!reader, virgin!seokmin), kissing, oral (m. giving, f. receiving), creampies, pregnancy, poisoning attempt, happy ending haha

LENGTH |  18,363 words

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @cosyhomenet

TAGLIST |  (join the taglist here or join my perm taglist here)

@Flora19308 @dyge @gyuguys @codeinebelle @bubbblebe @orderforyan @fancypeacepersona @tokitosun @tjjth @idubiluranghae @wooingmandy @https-seishu @ohgeezitsbreadgenie @kumacyy @alien7210 @metaphorandmoonlight @taesungx @acherry04 @tooflef @asasilentreader @ilikekpop-c @sarahlovescatz

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Finally finished this! Finally! Here's the 3rd installment to the series! Thank you @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading this! Thank you everyone for joining me on this adventure! ❤️

Carat Kingdom: A Seventeen Series Masterlist

Seventeen Masterlist

"She's back, you know," you hear one of the noble ladies say and you glance at her.

"Back from where?" asks another.

"Where do you think? From the North. She spent years in exile," says your former friend and the ladies gasp.

You roll your eyes, having heard this a thousand times already. Exiled? To the North? How scandalous. As if you're some villain who deserves to be shunned by society. They were right in a sense, though. You've always been different and they never understood you.

Situated in a far corner of the ballroom and looking absolutely bored, you sip your wine and pretend not to hear the scandalized whispers directed at you. It's no surprise that you're the center of gossip. You always are when you attend a ball, and your presence at one of the most anticipated events of the year has already created quite the stir.

The young ladies, former friends of yours, avoid your gaze and whisper among themselves. Once upon a time, you dominated the social circles of the capital, but a fall from grace led to your exile from the elite circle. And now that you're back, you're greeted with suspicion and ridicule. You're used to it though and so you hold your head high.

"Well, I heard that..." Another lady lowers her voice, and you don't care to hear what else she has to say. You down the rest of your drink and set the glass on the table. You should've never come to the ball.

One would think that being the eldest daughter of a marquisate family would come with certain privileges and protection, but your family was always a target of political maneuvering. Life was nice and simple but when your mother passed away from an accident, everything changed in a blink of an eye. Your father remarried, to a baron's daughter no less, and at first she was sweet and kind to you and your older brother Hyunwoo, but that didn't last.

When your stepmother, Lady Ji, gave your father a son and a daughter, her priorities shifted. You and Hyunwoo became obstacles in her path to securing her son's inheritance and her daughter's marriage, so she spared no opportunity to make your lives miserable. When a political opportunity presented itself, she wasted no time in sending you and your older brother off to the North, under the pretense that you'd both be safe from the growing unrest in your father's territory. It was a lie, of course, and it was only by some miracle that you both managed to survive.

The guards that were escorting you to the North were paid to kill you, but luckily, you and your brother managed to escape them and seek refuge in the Xu Duchy. Despite the former Grand Duke Xu Liwen being a political rival of your father, he still took you two in and helped you rebuild your lives. Life in the North was no easy feat, especially with the monsters that lurked in the darkness, but with the help of the Xu Family, you both were able to settle in and start anew.

"Bored?" Hyunwoo, the most important person in your life, asks as he stands by you.

You glance at him and smile. "Very," you reply. "They're still the same people they were a few years ago."

Hyunwoo laughs. "Things haven't changed in the past ten years have they? Still as boring as they were when we left." He takes a sip of wine. "Ah, exiled."

You grin, remembering the days when you and your brother were sent to the North. "Who would have thought we'd be the only ones who survived that journey? And yet here we are, back home, in the capital and the palace," you pause and take a sip of your wine, "It's been years and ever since we thwarted stepmother's plans, our family is already trying to sell me off to a low ranking noble or a merchant."

"Stepmother is trying to use my connections with the grand duke to make her son and daughter's status in the court stronger," Hyunwoo says, a dark expression in his eyes.

You're aware of Lady Ji's schemes. Her son and daughter are both vying to marry into powerful political families and your father is more than willing to oblige her. Your stepmother wants to marry you off to a lesser noble or an old rich merchant so you won't interfere with her daughter's marriage prospects to a higher nobleman. She says you'll be lucky if someone marries you since you're no longer young. You're nearing your thirties and any nobleman would be too embarrassed to marry a woman who isn't even in her prime. You don't even care if you get married or not, but you're not going to let your stepmother decide your future for you.

"I'm so tired of this. Ten years of helping protect the northern borders and yet we're still treated like nobodies by our own family," you say as you stare at the dancers. "Do they think we'll accept this treatment forever?"

You finish your wine and put it on a passing server's tray. You notice that the ladies are looking your way, their fans hiding the bottom halves of their faces. Some have the nerve to look amused, smirking behind their fans. You see your half-sister in a corner with some ladies, eyeing you from top to bottom. You want to roll your eyes at the absurdity of everything.

You're used to the stares and the rumors. They always say that women with 'difficult' personalities are either crazy or possessed, or cursed by a demon. But what is your difficult personality anyway? Being headstrong and firm? Becoming one of Grand Duke Xu's high ranking mages? Or because you had the gall to walk around the imperial ball in such a scandalous dress?

"Let them talk," Hyunwoo smiles as he hands you a plate of food. "You don't have to care what they say about you."

You smile and take a bite of the food. "I know, but it's still annoying. And the more they mock and annoy me, the more I want to set something on fire."

"You and your arsonist ways," he laughs and clinks his glass against yours.

"I wonder who the Crown Prince will choose as his bride this year," one of the ladies whispers loudly. "Ever since the Splendor Princess, I mean Duchess Choi, left the Crown Prince at the altar for Duke Choi, he hasn't chosen any bride. I think he's scared of being left at the altar again. Imagine being left by the bride! What a shame."

"You weren't there at the wedding," another says. "The Crown Prince stepped down so that the Duke and the Duchess could get married. He even gave them his blessing."

"He's so nice, isn't he? Whoever becomes his Crown Princess will be lucky. I would marry him in a heartbeat," the first lady gushes as she looks at the Crown Prince with adoration.

Crown Prince Seokmin is standing next to his brother, King Jeonghan, as they converse with Duke Choi and his wife, Duchess Choi. He's dressed in a royal blue robe with silver accents and a silver crown adorns his head. He looks regal and handsome, and the women can't help but stare at him. You try not to roll your eyes.

"You're right. He is nice," another lady says, her eyes filled with longing. "He's so handsome and charming. I'd do anything to be his bride."

"Would you really marry the Crown Prince if you had the chance?" the second lady asks, her voice full of curiosity. "Even if he's to be betrothed to her?" She nods her head in your direction, her lips curling into a mocking grin.

"You mean the rumors are true? That he'll marry her?"

"I heard from my maid who heard from her cousin who's a handmaid at the palace, that the Crown Prince is set to marry the Marquis's eldest daughter this year. Can you imagine? The most eligible bachelor in the kingdom marrying a woman who's been exiled to the North for so long? She must have bewitched him somehow."

"Lady Heejoo must be beside herself. She must be feeling awful to hear that her eldest sister is marrying the crown prince."

The other women nod in agreement, their expressions a mix of disgust and envy.

"So there are these kinds of rumors," you shrug, feeling the stares directed your way. "Heejoo must be soooo mad that her dear sister is marrying the crown prince and becoming crown princess." You ignore them and turn to Hyunwoo. "Oh boohoo."

"It's not like the rumors are true though," Hyunwoo points out as he pops a piece of meat into his mouth. "You've never got along with the Crown Prince ever since we were young. You're still holding a grudge, huh?"

"He was the one who called me mean in front of all the other noble children," you huff.

"You were six years old," he points out. "You bit the son of Count Yoo's hand because he put worms in your shoe. You even broke his toe as you stomped on it, then ran away laughing. It's no wonder people call you a villain and a lunatic."

"But you have to admit that my personality isn't suited for being the Crown Princess of the kingdom. I'd be a terrible one," you roll your eyes.

"You would be a terrible one," Hyunwoo laughs. "But our family is one of the most powerful families after the Choi Dukedom and the Boo Marquisate. Because you and I are representatives of Grand Duke Xu, the position of Crown Princess is expected to fall on you since you're the most eligible among the ladies."

Your eyebrow twitches. "I will kill whoever decided that I should be married off to the Crown Prince." You scowl. "Should I just marry him? Just to see Heejoo cry?"

The Royal Family has a reputation for being hard to please and difficult to wed into, so for one to actually be chosen is considered a high honor and the woman the recipient of their favor must be perfect and irreproachable. Duchess Choi, second princess of the Splendor Kingdom, was originally betrothed to the Crown Prince but in the end married Duke Choi Seungcheol instead. The Crown Prince, who was gracious and selfless, did not make a big issue of it. Instead of reprimanding the duchess or demanding punishment, he stepped aside and wished her good luck. That act of benevolence made him extremely popular with the public and people hailed him as a noble prince indeed.

And so rumor circulated in the court that he will soon marry again to make up for the Duchess Choi fiasco and produce a successor to the throne. All eligible daughters have their mothers and fathers eyeing the chance of marrying them into the royal family and getting a chance to be queen one day.

Your stepmother is no different. She'll do everything in her power to secure her daughter's chances to become the crown princess. She would do anything, even force you into an engagement against your will to someone far beneath your status and worth. You and Hyunwoo are no strangers to her manipulation tactics and the two of you always manage to weasel yourselves out of any schemes she cooks up.

"Sister," a sickenly sweet voice interrupts your thoughts. Your mouth contorts into a frown. You'd recognize this voice anywhere. The honey laced venom in it tells you immediately whom it is without you even looking. Heejoo, your younger half-sister, saunters over, with her own group of so-called friends.

"Brother," another voice calls out. It's your younger half-brother, Heecheon, who stands to Heejoo's right.

Though it's been six months since you've returned to the capital, you and Hyunwoo were staying at Grand Duke Xu's palace instead of your family home. You refused to stay under the same roof as the family that left you and your oldest brother for dead and would rather stay at the ducal palace with the family that treated you like their own. They were far happier and loving than your birth family that abandoned you after your mother died. They raised you and your brother with care and love, teaching you how to stand on your own. You owe them your life, and you refuse to return home to people who betrayed you.

It doesn't stop your stepmother from sending you countless invitations or throwing tea parties for the nobility and demanding your presence just so she can set up blind dates or so called 'accidental' meetings, but you're adamant about avoiding her matchmaking schemes.

"Ah, Heecheon and Heejoo," Hyunwoo says, and you can sense the sarcasm in his voice. "It's been a while. You've both grown quite a bit since we last saw each other."

"We've missed you so much," Heejoo says with a smile, but you know that it's fake. Heejoo hates you both and never made an effort to hide her dislike for you. "You must be happy to be back in the capital. I can't imagine how harsh the North is."

You rolled your eyes. Heejoo is a great actress, you give her that.

"The North must have been so difficult for you two," Heecheon says with a sympathetic smile. "I heard that the North is home to all sorts of beasts and monsters."

"You must come home though," Heejoo latches onto your arm. "You must have been so lonely without female friends, sister. If you had friends, I'm sure you wouldn't have come to the ball in your current state." Heejoo's eyes roam your body and her brows furrow. "I can have a few dresses made for you since you're back home."

You can feel the anger bubbling up inside you and for a moment you want to say something but you hold it in. You're no longer a child and you won't allow these two to rile you up. Instead, you smile and say, "That's kind of you, sister, but I'm quite capable of buying dresses for myself."

Heecheon laughs. "Sure, sure. But we must keep up appearances, sister. You and our eldest brother wouldn't want to embarrass the family, would you? Your taste in dresses is quite… eccentric."

Eccentric, is it? You're wearing one of the capital's most famous designer's creations. Your dress is a beautiful masterpiece. The dress itself is a deep blood red, with a slit that reaches your thigh. Your shoulders are bare, save for the intricate lace that covers them, and your chest is covered with the same lace, which forms a V, leaving your neck and collarbones visible.

When you were dress shopping, everyone steered clear of this dress, deeming it too scandalous and vulgar, but you saw the beauty in it. The designer said it was a masterpiece that no one wanted to buy. He offered it for free when you inquired about it, but you paid him and even offered him the position to be your permanent designer. Needless to say, the man was moved to tears and accepted your offer without hesitation. Now, he and his wife have joined the Xu Duchy household staff and your closet is full of stunning dresses and pieces.

You look down at your attire. "Is it eccentric?"

Heejoo smiles and you know she's hiding a nasty remark. "Yes, we wouldn't want anyone to think that father and mother don't have a handle on their children, would we? You wouldn't want to give the impression that our family has fallen from grace."

Oh, you hate her. If only you can burn her into ashes right this moment.

"I daresay I prefer a more form-fitting fashion compared to the big bows and frills that you and the other young ladies favor nowadays," you gesture at her dress, which is bright orange with flowers embroidered into it.

Her puffy sleeves, which have little ribbons on them, complete the frilly look. The bows on her puffy skirt add more to her childish look and the huge ribbon on her hip and the matching bows at the top of her head, make her look more like a decoration on her dress rather than a young woman.

"This is the current style!" Heejoo looks indignant. "As if you know more about style than me. The women in the Xu Grand Duchy might find that dress attractive and edgy, but here it is just vulgar."

"Vulgar?" you ask with a smirk, then you take a sip of your wine, ignoring your step-siblings. "I'll tell my personal designer that he has done a fantastic job then."

"Ah, it looks like the Son siblings are here and being reunited. It warms my heart to see such a happy family." You glance at the speaker, and you see the Crown Prince approaching your group, dressed in his finest clothes.

Seokmin's presence is always felt wherever he goes. He is a striking man with features that could easily rival those of a god. His face is a perfect blend of sharp and soft, with high cheekbones, a straight nose, and full lips. His eyes are a deep brown, framed by thick, dark lashes. His hair is jet black and always perfectly coiffed. His body is tall and lean, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and he moves with a grace that is both elegant and masculine. He has a strong jawline and a faint smile that can disarm anyone. He is the picture of perfection and grace, and yet, he has a certain quality to him that makes you think he is hiding something.

"Oh, your highness! It is us who are honored," Heejoo gushes, giving her best simpering smile. Her smile is not missed by the ladies who watch her every move. You wanted to hurl.

"May the moon and stars embrace us with your light," you and Hyunwoo greeted, hand over your heart as you bowed and curtsied. Your half-siblings gave you an incredilous look at your greeting but kept their mouths shut when they noticed King Jeonghan nodding his head at you, impressed.

"I'm happy to see the Son siblings together again," he smiles. "Though you all resemble each other, your personalities are far too different. Your father must have had such a hard time raising you."

Your half-siblings stiffen at this, clearly insulted at the insinuation. You and Hyunwoo say nothing, the slight smile not leaving your face as you let the King talk.

"But what do I know?" he says, lifting his palms upward. "I haven't seen Sir Hyunwoo and Dame Y/N in quite some time."

The Son siblings were all different to say the least. Hyunwoo, the eldest Son sibling, was supposed to be the heir apparent to the marquisate but it changed when there was news that you and he had died. Hyunwoo, handsome and strong, is known as a fearsome knight in the Grand Duke's army. He is respected by all, even by those who declared him as a rival. You, the second eldest of the four, a beautiful and talented young lady, could have married a northern nobleman but instead became a mage for the Grand Duke's army upon learning that you wield magic that could rival Grand Mage Junhui and his apprentices.

After you and Hyunwoo were sent away and presumed dead, Heecheon became the heir to the marquisate. Heecheon is a handsome young man, but he lacks the strength and presence of Hyunwoo. He's charming, witty, and has many friends in high society, but he's also known for his love of parties and games of chance, which sometimes gets him into trouble. Heejoo, the youngest, is the opposite of you. She's pretty and she knows it. She's also charming, witty and has a knack for making people feel at ease, but she can also be quite manipulative and calculating. She's well aware of her beauty and how to use it to her advantage, and she's not above using her charms to get what she wants.

Seokmin smiles, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I was told that Lord Heecheon and Lady Heejoo were going to be in attendance, but I didn't expect to see Sir Hyunwoo and Dame Y/N."

"It's been about ten years, hasn't it? We had all assumed the worst," the King Jeonghan says. "But to learn that you two were actually alive was a relief. The both of you are a sight to behold."

"Your Majesty flatters us far too much," Hyunwoo gives an amicable smile.

"Your Majesty is too generous," you chime in.

Your half-siblings don't want to be outshoned by the two of you, so they quickly come up with a retort to regain the spotlight, "His Majesty is gracious to us all," Heejoo says politely, "We should count our blessings and rejoice."

The other girls let out an "awww", cooing at her politeness and innocence, while some are filled with envy that she was able to speak to the Crown Prince. You stifle a laugh, but the amused smile doesn't leave your face. The petty, cunning side of your personality finds your sister's efforts to please the royal family hilarious, especially since Heejoo is far from innocent or polite.

"Your Majesty! Your Highness!" The rushing steps of your father and stepmother catch your attention. "We apologize for arriving late," your father continues. He quickly bows to the two royals while your stepmother curtsies behind him. She barely spares you a glance. "We sent the children ahead of us since the wheel to our carriage broke. Thankfully, everything is all set and in working order."

"Nothing to worry, Marquess Son. Your children did a great job filling in for you," King Jeonghan waves off. He smiles at Heejoo and Heecheon. "Lady Heejoo and Lord Heecheon, thank you for your greetings earlier."

The two of them bow their heads slightly, acknowledging the King and Crown Prince's comments. "Of course, Your Majesty," Heejoo speaks first, her words sweet and gentle, just as expected of a demure lady. "We're happy to be of service. It's all part of our duties as a citizen of the kingdom."

You raise an eyebrow and do your best not to laugh at her sycophantic tone. "Its the least you can do when you're not the ones defending the northern borders," you retort. The venom in your words surprises the others in your group and causes them to turn to you in shock.

"Who–" your stepmother's question dies on her lips when you turn your gaze to her, a glint in your eye as she stiffens under the intensity. "Y/N! Hyunwoo! My dear children, I haven't seen you both for the longest time! It's a shame that you're staying at the Grand Duke's palace instead of back home. You really should make more visits so I could spend more time with my children."

"We're not here for leisure, stepmother," Hyunwoo replies evenly. "We are here as representatives of the Grand Duke's palace."

Your father scowls at Hyunwoo's words but smiles apologetically to King Jeonghan. "Forgive my eldest's rudeness, Your Majesty, Your Highness."

"It's alright, sir. The past couple of years have been difficult for all of us. I understand," King Jeonghan nods. He regards your group for a moment before clearing his throat. "What is the situation at the Northern Borders, Sir Hyunwoo and Dame Y/N? I hope all is well?" he asks.

The abruptness of the question startles everyone in the group. No one is sure what the topic is or what it means, except for you, Hyunwoo, and the royal family.

Hyunwoo is about to answer, when your stepmother interjects. "Y/N would be useless in discussing anything related to the borders, Your Majesty. I'm sure my eldest daughter was raised in the Grand Duke's palace and was most likely busy with the softer ar–"

"Life was faring well up until the goblin uprising last year," you interrupted, choosing not to give her the time of day. You refuse to let her dismiss your hardwork and abilities. Not when you've done so much for the northern borders and Grand Duke's family. "But that was taken care of. With the help of the Hero Mingyu and his Diamond Mercenaries, we were able to repel the goblin assault."

"Grand Mage Junhui and the tower mages are collaborating with his grace, the Grand Duke, to come up with new defensive spells and new methods to deal with future goblin and monster assaults," Hyunwoo takes over and adds. "Everything is running smoothly for the moment, hence why my sister and I are in attendance tonight."

"I'm relieved to hear it. You have my thanks for all you have done to protect the empire," King Jeonghan compliments.

Your father is beaming with such arrogance that you wanted to wipe it off his face. "Your Majesty, thank you so much for allowing my children to serve the empire. If you could pass on a recommendation letter for Heecheon to join the–"

"Both Dame Y/N and Sir Hyunwoo possess amazing talent for magic and knighthood, Marquis. You should be proud of their success," King Jeonghan replies simply and starts moving through the ballroom. "Sir Hyunwoo and Dame Y/N, I expect a visit in the morning to further discuss our plans for the Northern Borders." With that, King Jeonghan moves on, the Crown Prince and members of his entourage trailing behind him.

The second they're out of range, Heejoo is throwing glares, while Heecheon scowls in silence, feeling inferior, embarrassed, and humiliated.

Your father's expression darkens. He turns to you and Hyunwoo with contempt, voice low enough for only the two of you to hear. "You will come to the estate after your audience with the king. We have much to discuss."

Your stepmother hums in agreement, her smile sending chills down your spine. You knew that nothing good would come of a meeting like that.

Seokmin knows not to get involved in anything that Dame Y/N does and knows to keep his nose where it belongs.

Ever since they were children, Y/N never allowed him or anyone else to dictate her behavior or make her follow any sort of rules or etiquette. She did as she pleased and made her own choices without anyone having an influence on her.

He watched her defy her teachers, her instructors, and her father on many occasions. She spoke her mind and would not stand for others trying to dictate who she would be or what she was to accomplish.

She was a mean little girl as a child, a demon spawn to everyone, except her older brother, Hyunwoo. So even when they grew older and had their own groups of friends and went their own ways, he avoided her, like everyone else.

As she grew older, she dominated the social scene. Her beauty is enchanting, and her manners are impeccable despite having such an ugly personality. She has a natural charisma, a way of drawing everyone's attention to her, and her tongue can be sharp or smooth as it suits her needs.

Yet, none of these can take away the fact that she is cold, harsh, and unforgiving.

Seokmin could understand why she lashed out like she did. At a young age, she had to learn to defend herself as she had no other options left. Her mother had passed on when they were younger, leaving her and Hyunwoo in the care of their cold and unloving father and the marquises' new family.

Life must not have been easy for the two Son siblings. Casted out from the marquisate as soon as they reach adulthood under the pretense that their family territory wasn't safe enough for the two and then ambushed by their own guards by the order of their stepmother, it's no wonder that she's resentful and angry.

And yet, she turned that resent and anger into her greatest strength and channeled it in ways no one could. From becoming a respected lady of society to rising in the ranks of magic and becoming one of the most powerful mage under the Grand Duke's order, she surprised many, especially the nobility that always took her and her brother for dead.

Seokmin supposes there is something admirable about her. Her feistiness, determination, and grit are things he respects.

"What are you thinking about?" His brother, King Jeonghan, appears by his side, snapping him out of his reverie. "Aren't you tired of watching people dance?"

"Just reminiscing of childhood days," Seokmin tells him with an easy smile. He takes another sip of his wine, keeping his eyes trained on a familiar red dress.

"Oh. Of young Y/N and Hyunwoo?" Jeonghan asked with a smile. "I'm just as awed that the demon spawn we knew her as children transformed into one of the greatest talents this country has produced."

"It must be a Son family thing then?" he quips.

Jeonghan raises his eyebrow and sighs. "Well those two didn't get their father's qualities. They must have gotten everything from the late Marchioness."

He turns to his brother, interest peaking at the mention of your late mother. "You've met her before?"

"Oh yes," Jeonghan nods. "The late Marchioness was one of the kingdom's greatest knights. She was the Knight Commander of the Rose-Quartz Knights. I would have loved the two Son siblings to join either the Serenity Knights or the Rose Quartz Knights but their father and that evil wife of his pulled strings."

Seokmin clicked his tongue. That's a real shame. He could only imagine how effective the two Son siblings could have been if they served the crown as knights. But of course, fate isn't fair and destiny doesn't work in their favor.

"I know you don't want to marry her. That she's the furthest thing in the world to be a princess," Jeonghan whispers and his eyebrows are pinched in the way it usually is when he's in deep thought. "But out of all the women here, Dame Y/N might be the best choice."

"Why is that?” Seokmin tries not to scoff, he truly tries.

Jeonghan looks at the two eldest Son siblings, both ignoring the looks on their half-siblings faces. “They hold more power than we imagine. They're Minghao's maternal cousins. We need to get the support of the northern nobles. Dame Y/N was the one who was responsible for the defense of the northern border, and is one of the many nobles and knights who keep the goblins at bay. We need ties to the Son Marquisate and their influence.”

“Then would it not make sense to marry Lady Heejoo since the marquis clearly dotes on her?” Seokmin asks.

Jeonghan glances at the group of angry siblings then at the marquise who's on the opposite side of the ballroom, obviously fuming. Jeonghan watches intently, a soft and amused smile curling on his lips. It disappears and a slight frown replaces it. "It would make the most logical sense. But Lady Heejoo won’t give you the military and financial resources we need even if she has the backing of her own father. Marrying her means dealing with a family that will bleed us dry. At least the elder two Son siblings will work for the sake of the nation because they don't care for material pleasures."

He's right of course, as the eldest and legitimate prince, Seokmin would need to take into consideration the benefit for his kingdom. It would have to benefit the crown. The biggest benefit in this would be the alliance to the Grand Duke, who controls the empire's northern defenses. And since the eldest two children of the marquis have worked their asses off to gain the trust and respect of the nobles in the north, making an alliance with them would make it a lot easier.

The idea of marriage shouldn't surprise him or cause this much dread and worry. He's radiant and adored as the Crown Prince. Yet, Seokmin feels like he's being used. He'd grown accustomed to it because everyone is blinded by his looks and rank, that no one sees the true him. That no one actually loves him for him.

Perhaps, he's looking too deeply into it and getting greedy, and it's not like him to think that way. As the future King of his land, it's his duty to take this step no matter how he truly feels. Even if there is no love in it, he just needs to look out for his people and his kingdom.

But somehow, that makes the decision that much harder.

"Are you still against it? Against marrying her?" Jeonghan asks.

"Is there a point in discussing it now?" he counters, already exhausted from this. His shoulders are slumping and his jaw clenched, unable to control the way his body reacts when he feels tired and irritated. "If your decision is final, why are we discussing it when the future of the kingdom depends on it?"

Jeonghan pauses. "I know you want to love the person you're marrying. That's how you are. But it's our duty as royals to look at the greater good." Jeonghan pats his brother's arm. "Who knows? Maybe you'll come to love each other. Maybe things will turn out better than you'd imagine."

"Our cousin just sent us a new missive," Hyunwoo announces once he meets you in his temporary quarters in the Grand Ducal palace. "He wants us to return home soon since he's tired of dealing with the tower mages on his own."

"Minghao is always whining," you retort. Your lips quirk upwards, unable to hide your amusement. "For being a Grand Duke, you'd think he could handle a few tower mages."

It's not common knowledge that you and Hyunwoo are maternal cousins to the Grand Duke. Only the northern territories and the royal family knew that your mother had a younger sister who married the former Grand Duke, Xu Liwen, and that union gave birth to his heir, the present Grand Duke Xu Minghao. You and Hyunwoo didn't know about this until the former Grand Duke rescued you and Hyunwoo 10 years ago. As soon as you were ushered into the drawing room, a woman who resembled your mother was staring at the both of you, tears in her eyes.

That day, you cried harder than when you did after your mother had passed away. This woman, your aunt, was your last link to your mother and to her family. Your aunt was kind and loving towards you and Hyunwoo, introducing the both of you to your cousin, Minghao, who looked at the two of you as a kind of second set of siblings.

Your aunt and your uncle became second parents to the two of you, guiding and molding you to become the strong people you were. They nurtured you like one of their own children despite the harshness your father and stepmother subjected on the two of you. They made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with the Marquis and his second wife, and gave everything you and Hyunwoo deserve. Your mother would have been proud of the way her sister stepped up to provide you and Hyunwoo with a family of sorts.

Even now, they are helping you, even as far away as they are. Ever since your uncle and aunt retired from their political duties as the former Grand Duke and Duchess, Minghao took over, and thus, is busy managing the North Territories while he was forced to sit through various meetings and spend his time mediating with his advisors. You and Hyunwoo vowed to help your cousin and offered to help run his duchy. With that offer, the two of you have been traveling the entire North on behalf of Minghao, commanding armies, giving orders, and getting your hands dirty. The hardships and battles did a great deal in getting you where you were, but, because of it, the three of you became much closer than any normal family would have been.

"Leave the poor man alone," Hyunwoo scolded light-heartedly, picking up the papers from the desk and handing them to you, "Reports from the magic tower."

You hummed. You shuffled through the paper, eyeing the words carefully as you read every single report, then laid them on the bed next to you. "I take it they've all agreed to the proposition for creating a new magic barrier, or are we still in the process of finalizing everything?" you asked, grabbing the glass of wine beside the pile of paper, bringing it to your lips.

"They've agreed. We only need the cooperation of the northern lords to gather all the necessary materials," Hyunwoo replies. He drops himself next to you on the bed, sighing as he rests. "As long as father and the other nobles here in the capital don't interfere, we should be fine."

"Easier said than done," you rolled your eyes and plop back down onto the mattress, lying on your stomach. "That father of ours will do anything to lift the family status, even if it means trampling on his own flesh and blood."

Hyunwoo's laugh is deep and amused. "Did you expect anything else?"

"At the very least I expected some family loyalty," you countered. You roll over to stare up at the ceiling and sigh. "But it's okay. It won't matter what they'll do. At the end of the day, the people of the northern territory are our family, not them."

A knock sounded from the doors and Hyunwoo bids to let them enter. "Apologies for disturbing your time," a familiar voice echoes in the room and you turn to see the aging butler entering the room, a smile on his kind and old face. "His Highness, the Crown Prince, is here to see the two of you."

"Ugh," you groan and drop an arm across your eyes. "Let him know that we'll be there and tell him not to dawdle. I have better things to do than talk about the weather." You wave a dismissive hand at the butler.

The butler bows and gives a knowing smile to your brother before he leaves. Hyunwoo shakes his head in amusement. "You are the only person I know who can get away with being rude to the Crown Prince."

"I'm not rude," you defended yourself. "I'm direct."

Hyunwoo snorts. "You are the rudest person in the kingdom, no matter what you say. If you weren't my little sister, I would have strangled you by now."

"That's a lie and you know it," you grin at him, and he gives a fond look back, ruffling your hair. "Don't be such a sap."

"Let's go meet with the Crown Prince. It wouldn't do to keep him waiting," Hyunwoo suggests, already making his way towards the door.

"Fine," you roll off the bed, dusting off your skirts.

You walk the halls of the Grand Ducal palace, nodding your thanks at the servants as they greet you and your brother. The servants are more than happy to welcome the two of you back, having grown fond of you during your visits.

The palace has a welcoming aura, unlike the frigid walls of your father's estate. There is life here, the servants are happy and well taken care of. The butler and head maid treat you with the utmost of respect as members of the Xu family, and they are the ones who have given you a place to call home no matter how far you are from the North.

As you approach the study, the butler is waiting and he nods, a kind smile on his face as he greets you. "His highness is already in the study with His Grace, the Grand Duke."

"Minghao is here? I thought he was still at the northern borders?" you asked.

"His Grace returned just moments ago and heard the Crown Prince was here. So he is entertaining him while waiting for you and Sir Hyunwoo," the butler explains.

"Thank you, Myungsoo," Hyunwoo nods. "Please have tea brought up, and some light snacks."

"As you wish, Sir Hyunwoo," the butler smiles and walks away.

The two of you make your way to the study and see that Minghao is laughing at something Seokmin said. The two of them are close friends and had a good relationship ever since they were children. It wasn't a surprise that the two of them would have a casual meeting like this.

"Ah, there they are," Minghao stands and welcomes you and Hyunwoo into the room. "My favorite cousins. You're finally here."

"We just got your letter," you said, walking into the room and giving him a hug. You pull back and smack his shoulder. "You should have told us that you were coming."

Minghao laughs. "And miss the looks on everyone's faces when I arrived? Of course not."

You scoff, rolling your eyes at your cousin's antics. You turned to Seokmin, nodding your head in his direction. "Your highness."

"No need for that, Y/N," Seokmin waves a dismissive hand, "I would have gone to your father as society dictates, but with the tensions between your father and the both of you, I decided against it."

"Oh, please," you rolled your eyes and walked towards the desk, pulling out a chair and sitting down, leaning back comfortably. "I'm sure my dear father would love to have you grace the halls of his estate. It's only a matter of time before he invites you for tea, or for a more intimate setting."

"Intimate setting?" Minghao asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Stepmother wants Heejoo to be married into the royal family and father wants Heecheon to join one of the knight orders," you look at the stack of papers on the desk and pick up a letter, scanning its contents.

"Ah, I see," Minghao nodded, a look of understanding appearing on his face. "I'm guessing Heejoo is the most agreeable candidate."

"Except the king doesn't want that, does he, your highness?" Hyunwoo asked, looking at the Crown Prince. "His majesty wants you to enter a marriage with Y/N, correct?"

"Unfortunately," Seokmin says, a pained expression on his face. "The kingdom is under a lot of stress. We're facing a lot of issues, and the people are starting to doubt the stability of the kingdom. A royal wedding would surely lift the spirits."

"But why me? I'm sure there are a dozen other women who would have gladly jumped at the chance to marry a prince," you raise an eyebrow.

"And you're not? You could have easily married into the highest noble houses, but you would rather be a mage than a noble lady," Seokmin points out. "You're not interested in a noble life or title."

"I'm not interested in playing house," you correct him, "I was ousted from high society when my stepmother entered the picture. I used to be the belle of society and now everyone thinks I'm a monster. What makes you think I want anything to do with it?"

Seokmin is quiet, a contemplative look on his face. Minghao steps in and asks, "What is marrying her entitled?"

"A stronger alliance between the Xu and the royal family," Seokmin answers immediately. "And to put a dent in whatever Marquis Son and his faction is plotting."

Minghao turns to look at you and Hyunwoo. He leans forward, propping his chin up on his fist. "Is there a possibility that the royal family would give aid and financial resources to the North, considering the state the northern territories are in right now?"

"You want me to marry him, don't you?" You narrowed your eyes at Minghao, a glare already forming on your face.

"It wouldn't be a bad idea," Hyunwoo muses, crossing his arms and leaning back on the seat.

"You too, Hyunwoo?" Your mouth hangs open, staring at your brother in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?"

"If we marry you to the crown prince, then the crown would owe us," Hyunwoo reasons, turning to Seokmin. "Your highness, we need your help with the northern territories. It's a dangerous place and our people are dying because of the lack of resources and supplies. As a royal and the future king, you must be aware of the situation, correct?"

"Of course. The royal family is doing their best to help the northern territories," Seokmin says.

"And yet," you interject, "The royal family is too busy dealing with internal problems that they forget to pay attention to the needs of their people. You claim to help the northern territories and yet you haven't made any moves in the past five years."

"You're right. And we haven't done enough, and I'm truly sorry," Seokmin replies sincerely, "But also it's because your father and the other lords that we can't move. Your father, in particular, has been the biggest hurdle to helping the northern territories."

"Of course he has," you scoff. "I wouldn't expect anything less from that man."

"So," Minghao leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. He clasped his hands together and looked directly at Seokmin, his eyes serious. "You can help us, right?"

"Yes," Seokmin says without missing a beat. "We'll work hard to help the northern territories. And in return, Y/N shall marry me."

"Then it's a deal," Minghao says with a smile.

You turn to your cousin. "Do you really want me to marry him that badly?"

"You'd rather stay single than marry him?" Minghao asks.

"Yes," you answered. "Why not?"

"Are you still holding a grudge against him for being mean to you when you were children?" Hyunwoo asks.

"He called me a meanie," you softly pout, crossing your arms across your chest.

"You are a meanie," Hyunwoo counters.

"You're supposed to be on my side, Hyunwoo!" You pout.

"I am," Hyunwoo chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he ruffles your hair. "Please just marry him, Y/N. Don't you want Heejoo to bow at your feet and grovel?"

"Now that you mentioned it, yes, I would like to see her grovel," you replied, your mood shifting to a happier one. "Fine, I'll marry the prince. But you better be prepared, your highness, I'm not a sweet princess, so don't expect a fairytale marriage."

"That's perfectly fine," Seokmin replies.

"My wedding dress better not have frills and bows," you stare at him.

"I'll discuss it with your personal designer if that eases your mind," he nods.

"And don't be a pain in the ass. I don't have the patience to deal with that."

"I won't," he laughs. "You can treat me however you'd like."

"Really? That's quite interesting, your highness," you lean forward, a glint in your eyes. "I think I'll enjoy being your future wife."

"Goddess, please help me..."

"Do you know what you have done?!"

Your father is beyond furious, his face red, veins bulging. You rolled your eyes as Lady Ji is consoling a wailing Heejoo, patting her daughter's back. Heecheon is standing next to the two, his hand clenching into a tight fist, and he looks as though he's about to lunge and punch you.

"Oh, please. Stop acting like this is the end of the world," you sighed. "You should be happy that your eldest daughter is getting married to the crown prince. Isn't that what you've wanted all along?"

"Heejoo should have been the one marrying him, not you!" Your stepmother screeches.

"And yet, I'm the one the prince has chosen," you say with a smile, tilting your head, your voice sickly sweet. "Isn't that right, your highness?"

Seokmin huffs before nodding his head, his hand holding onto yours. "Yes, it is."

After discussing your meeting with Minghao and Seokmin a few nights ago, you thought it would be a good idea for him to come meet with your family and announce the engagement himself. You wanted him to witness the full extent of your family's true nature, and he had the pleasure of seeing first hand how they all treated you.

"You can't possibly be serious, your highness," Heejoo's cries subside as she speaks up, wiping away her tears. "Y/N can't be your wife."

"And why not?" you counter, crossing your arms over your chest, staring at the group of people. You notice Minghao and Hyunwoo strolling into the room, making their way towards where you and Seokmin are sitting.

"Because you're an embarrassment," Heecheon answers without missing a beat. "What man would want a brazen woman like you? One who has no manners and no sense of propriety."

"Heecheon," your father warns.

"What? It's true, Father. She's an embarrassment. Who would want her? She's been cast aside by high society, and no man in their right mind would want her," Heecheon spat.

"Are you saying his highness is not in his right mind?" Hyunwoo challenges, raising an eyebrow.

"What–no! I didn't mean–"

"It's okay, Sir Hyunwoo, I understand where he is coming from," Seokmin intervens, raising his hand to stop Hyunwoo. "But please rest assured, I am completely sane and I want nothing else but to marry your sister."

"Then I ask, your highness, why her?" Heecheon asks.

"Why not?" Minghao counters. "If the Crown Prince chose her, then it is not for us to question. He has a reason, and if that's not good enough for you, then that's on you."

"Pardon, Your Grace," Lady Ji looks at Minghao, "But this is a family matter. This does not concern the North."

"Doesn't it? If I recall, both Hyunwoo and Y/N are my family members. Am I wrong here, Hyunwoo?" Minghao asks, looking at your brother.

"No, your grace," Hyunwoo shakes his head, smiling. "You're not wrong."

"Lady Ji, you say it's a family matter and that it does not concern me but both Hyunwoo and Y/N are my maternal cousins. They're family and therefore, this concerns me, the Grand Duke," Minghao smiled at the stunned look on Lady Ji's face. "Did you not know?"

"There's...there's no way." Lady Ji shakes her head.

"But it's the truth. The three of us are related through blood. Which means I can interfere with matters concerning them," Minghao says.

"This is ridiculous!" Heecheon shouts. "He can't just barge in here and take over!"

"Watch your tongue, Heecheon," you say sharply, glaring at him. "Show some respect to the Grand Duke or it'll be your head."

"Y/N is correct. You should show more respect, Heecheon," your father heaves a sigh. "I apologize for my wife and children, your grace. Your highness. But I hope you can understand where we are coming from. Heejoo is my daughter and I would like her to marry well."

"So you're saying that Dame Y/N isn't your daughter?" Seokmin scoffs. "Unbelievable."

"Of course she's my daughter," your father starts but is cut off when Seokmin raises a hand.

"But you seem to treat her as if she's not," Seokmin raises an eyebrow.

"Your highness, surely you've heard the rumors," your stepmother cuts in, stepping forward. "Y/N isn't well-liked by others and the people call her a villainess. I'm sure you can understand why."

"A villainess," Seokmin repeats, testing the words out. "Interesting. A villainess, huh?"

"I'm glad you agree, your highness. My daughter, Heejoo, would have made a far better wife than Y/N. She is very obedient and a proper lady. She will run your household well and would bring prestige to the royal family," Lady Ji lists off.

"And what does Dame Y/N lack that would make her unsuitable?" Seokmin asks. "Would she not bring prestige to the royal family? She is an accomplished mage and is one of the military officers of the Grand Duke's army. She has been a big help in protecting the empire."

"Well, that is–"

"I don't see a problem in wanting to marry a woman who loves her kingdom and would sacrifice her life to protect it," Seokmin continues, cutting off whatever excuse your stepmother has. "Dame Y/N is well versed in the affairs of the empire and can hold her own."

"Thank you, your highness," you nod, smiling at him.

"I don't know how the rumor about her being a villainess came to be, but I have never met a more loyal woman," Seokmin praises.

You look over at him and notice him looking back at you. Was he actually praising you or was it just something to look good in front of your family?

"The Crown Prince is correct. She is a loyal woman," Minghao nods. "And she will make a fine wife."

"But–"

"Enough!" your father's booming voice startles everyone. "If the Crown Prince wants to marry Y/N, then he may."

"Father," Heejoo whines, her eyes starting to fill with tears. "Father, please. It's not fair. Why does Y/N get to be happy when I can't?"

"It is what it is, Heejoo," your father sighs. "We should celebrate the good news. Your sister is getting married to the Crown Prince."

"Father–" Heejoo starts.

"This discussion is over, Heejoo," he cuts her off, his voice firm and cold. "If the Crown Prince wants to marry your sister, then let him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Your father turns and leaves the room, slamming the doors behind him. Your stepmother and Heecheon turn and glare at you before leaving, a sniffling Heejoo following close behind.

"Well, that was eventful," Minghao muses, looking at you and Hyunwoo.

"Welcome to my family, your highness," you joke.

Seokmin shook his head. "That's not how I imagined things to go. You didn't tell me your family was like this."

You shrug. "Would it have changed anything?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

Hyunwoo shakes his head at your attitude. "Don't be a brat, Y/N."

"I can't help it," you reply. "They're too easy to annoy."

Minghao snorts. "And that's why the nobility think you're a villainess."

"Please," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "As if I care what they think about me."

"Maybe you should," Seokmin comments.

"Why? They have made up their minds about me," you shrug. "The common folk love me, and the soldiers admire me. And I have the Grand Duke's support, so who cares about high society? I don't."

"I can't believe I'm marrying someone like you," Seokmin sighs.

"Oh you'll be fine," you tease. "Who knows? We might even end up being happy."

"Or miserable."

"Now that's the spirit."

The royal wedding was a huge affair. Everyone wanted to be there and it was a grand celebration. There were thousands of flowers, expensive fabrics, and music that would make the goddess cry.

You would have loved to have skipped the whole thing, but unfortunately, you were the bride and that meant you were going to have to stand in front of all these people and get married.

"I hate this," you sigh, tugging at the lace sleeves of your wedding dress.

"Hate what?" Hyunwoo asks, fixing his collar.

"All of this," you gesture towards the room. "All of the pomp and pageantry. I didn't even want a big wedding."

"But we have to do it," Hyunwoo replies, fixing his jacket. "For appearances sake."

"Ugh," you groan. "I know. Still doesn't mean I have to like it."

"You'll be the crown princess soon," Hyunwoo reminds you. "Try to behave and don't be too much of a pain in the ass."

"No promises," you reply, walking away.

The wedding ceremony was held in the royal palace's grand hall and you were surprised to see the sheer number of people attending the ceremony. Nobles, mages, and soldiers lined the walls, watching as you made your way down the aisle, the long train of your wedding dress trailing behind you.

When you reached the end of the aisle, the priest started the ceremony, reciting the prayers and blessings. The next few moments went by in a blur and the next thing you knew, you were being crowned the Crown Princess and were being led back down the aisle, this time hand in hand with Seokmin.

As soon as the two of you reach the doors, Seokmin lets out a relieved sigh. He loosens his tie and removes his jacket, tossing it onto the nearby chair. "Well, that's done."

"What? Don't like weddings?" You tease, "Or don't like me?"

"I don't mind you or the wedding. It's the whole process of having to be the center of attention," he answers.

"The radiant and adored crown prince doesn't like being in the spotlight? I find that hard to believe," you say.

"I'm not radiant and adored," Seokmin rolls his eyes, "People love me because they think I'm the answer to all their problems."

You walk up to him, standing beside him. "You're right. They do use you."

"What about you? What do you want?" He looks down at you, studying your face.

"Me?" You tilt your head, humming in thought. "I want Heejoo to grovel."

"I'm serious," he furrows his eyebrows.

"So am I," you counter. "If I have the power to make Heejoo beg for mercy, then I'll use it."

"You don't want anything else?" Seokmin raises an eyebrow, curious.

"I don't," you answer honestly.

"Not even wealth? Title? Or power?"

"What for?" you scoff. "I'm already rich and a member of the Grand Duke's family. What more can I ask for? And the power I have as a military officer is enough for me."

"That's...quite refreshing," Seokmin admits, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I can't say that's what I was expecting."

You laugh and Seokmin can't help but like the way it sounds. "Oh? Do tell, your highness. What did you expect?"

"Someone who is just like the others, looking to gain something from this marriage," Seokmin mutters, looking out the window.

"People are complicated," you sigh as you approach him and fix his attire, "Even when they appear to be the epitome of kindness and grace, they still have hidden motives. When my mother passed away when I was ten and my father married Lady Ji, I thought things would be better. She was kind and caring the first few years but...after having Heecheon and Heejoo, her true colors showed."

Seokmin stays quiet, listening intently as he studies you.

"I lived eight years in the spotlight as the belle of society... just so I could get some sliver of affection from her. And all those years, I was just a nuisance, a burden. No matter how many achievements and accomplishments I made, it was never enough for her." You stepped away from him, taking a deep breath. "But then...when the Northern territories were at their worst, when we were facing war... I felt needed and appreciated. And I realized that I didn't need my father and his new family. I just wanted to help my people. I'm the happiest when the people are happy."

"You're nothing like people say," Seokmin mutters, a small smile on his face.

"Oh no. I am. I am a meanie," you chuckle. "I'm just a little nicer and softer on the inside than the outside."

Seokmin lets out a laugh and shakes his head. "You're definitely not what I expected."

"Good," you wink at him. "I'd rather not be like all the other women."

"Well, I'm glad," Seokmin hums. "Maybe this marriage won't be so bad."

"I can't promise I'll be the best wife, though."

"Why not?"

"Because," you lean forward and pat his cheek, a mischievous grin on your lips. "You're still the radiant and adored crown prince. And I'm the villainess married to the radiant and adored crown prince. The two of us together is the recipe for disaster."

Seokmin draws you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?"

Married life with Seokmin wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. In fact, it was surprisingly pleasant. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine, one that you found yourself enjoying. He would handle the political meetings and you would deal with the northern territories' affairs. You were a team, a formidable one at that.

The only downside was the endless social obligations, which you despised. Seokmin found your disdain amusing, often teasing you about it. The two of you had developed an easy camaraderie, a friendship built on mutual respect and understanding. He never pushed for more, and for that, you were grateful. You were both content with the arrangement, at least for now.

You've shared kisses. Lingering glances and the brush of lips against skin. There have been stolen touches here and there. A playful squeeze of a thigh. Or the squeeze of an arm. But other than that, nothing had really progressed into more.

Sometimes, late at night when Seokmin was away for business or you were sleeping on your side, your dreams had become a little more vivid, a little more heated, your desires slipping through the cracks of your facade and escaping to the night. You yearn for his touch, your body aching with a deep hunger that you had yet to sate. And it was becoming harder to ignore the way your skin tingled whenever he brushed past, or the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled at you.

What were these feelings and why did you feel this way towards Seokmin?

One day, you flop onto a chaise lounge in your shared sitting room, exhuasted from social obligations. "I swear, if one more simpering lady asks me about the floral arrangements for the upcoming summer ball, I'm going to magically set her fan on fire."

Seokmin looks up from the stack of reports he was reviewing, a genuine smile touching his lips. "And that, my dear wife, is why you are now in charge of all event planning. My apologies to the simpering ladies, but their suffering is a small price to pay for my peace of mind."

"I am not your event planner," you grumble, but without any real heat. "I do not… do… flower arrangements." The words were said with the same distaste one might use for 'chamberpot cleaning'. "I strategize battle formations and negotiate trade routes for vital resources. I do not care if the roses clash with the ladies' gowns."

"That's precisely why you're perfect for the job," he chuckles, setting his papers aside. "You will terrify them all into submitting their preferences on a single, concise scroll. You'll be the most efficient event planner in the kingdom's history. A terrifying, magnificent tyrant of tulle and table settings."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, husband," you shot back, though you couldn't suppress a smile at the image. "How I would love to talk to the visiting delegation from Inspirit instead. Their leader is a fascinating man, quite knowledgeable in ancient runes. I'd rather discuss magical theory than seating charts."

"Jeonghan can handle the diplomats. Besides," Seokmin leans forward, his expression shifting subtly from amused to serious, "I have another task for you. One that requires your particular… expertise."

Your interest was piqued. You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the chaise. "Oh? Does it involve setting things on fire? Because I'm now highly motivated."

"No, no arson," he moves across the room, stopping in front of you. "What better way than to put your villainy to good use than bearing me a child?"

"You–" You start coughing. "What?"

He laughs. "I've been hounded by Jeonghan and the council about this. I can understand my brother wanting nieces and nephews in the palace but the council...ugh," he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The old snobs won't give me a single moment of peace as they suggest that I take their daughters as concubines."

"How is this an expertise of mine?" you inquire.

"Well," Seokmin stands, taking your hand and pulling you up to him, his arms loosely encircling your waist. His scent of cardamom and fresh green tea fills the air around him, soothing you, "would it not be better for us to have children? Unless you want me to take in a concubine? Your father has been begging me to take Heejoo as one and–"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," you glare at him. "The idea of Heejoo even touching you makes me want to run her over."

Seokmin presses a light kiss to the top of your head, the act surprisingly intimate and tender. "I assure you that there will be no mistresses or concubines," his lips brush against your hair as his fingers deftly play with the buttons at the small of your back.

"The last thing I want is a harem filled with your children," you huff.

His fingers slide under the silk, caressing the bare skin underneath. Your spine stiffens before relaxing, pressing into him, softening under the gentle touches. "Then what do you want?" He purrs, his breath warm and sweet against the shell of your ear. "I won't force you. If you truly don't wish to have children, I won't hold it against you."

"Truly?" You pull back to meet his gaze, your eyes searching for sincerity.

"Truly," his expression is somber, his gaze steady as he looks down at you, a stray strand of dark hair hanging in his eyes.

You reach up and gently tuck the strand behind his ear, studying his face. "You surprise me," you murmur.

"Surprises can be good," Seokmin brushes his thumb over your lower lip. Your pulse quickens, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as he stares intently. "May I surprise you, my villainess?"

"I…Yes..." It's just one kiss, you think, what harm could come from that? You wonder briefly if his lips are as soft and supple as they seem...if he tastes like green tea and lemon cakes, your favorite dessert.

Seokmin cradles the back of your head, bringing you closer, his mouth seeking yours. He claims you and you let him, opening up to him like a flower to the sun. Your senses fill with him and only him, with the sweetness of his taste and the dizzying heat of his touch, and in that moment, the two of you share something honest and precious.

"Just so you know..." you pull back slightly, breaking the kiss, your eyes fluttering open, "I've never done this before..." Your words come out soft, barely a whisper, your cheeks burning with embarrassment at the admission.

"Oh?" Seokmin cocks an eyebrow, his smile warm and gentle. "The most feared woman in the kingdom and yet the thing that scares her the most is this."

"Do you intend to mock me or simply make fun of me?" You narrow your eyes at him. "Because I can leave."

Seokmin laughs, picking you up and carrying you towards the bedroom. "Mock you? How? I don't think you could get any more perfect, my villainess." He lays you down, climbing over you, his expression soft. "To tell you the truth, I haven't shared my bed with anyone before."

You scoff, "As if anyone could resist you."

He leans in, trailing feather-light kisses across your forehead, down the slope of your nose, before placing the sweetest kiss against your lips. "Just like the sun, I may radiate warmth and beauty, but I'm always alone."

You study the expression on his face, looking for hints of dishonesty, but all you see is acceptance and...hope.

"People want my warmth and beauty but they never see me...for me," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper, the sound thick with emotion, "They don't realize how lonely it can get being the center of attention." His fingers run along the skin of your cheek, soft and gentle. "You and I are alike in that way, so different from the others. One adored and the other hated. People who either admire or fear."

You sigh, covering his hand with yours and leaning into his palm. "A strange pair, the both of us."

Seokmin nods in agreement.

You hesitate before speaking. You've never been the one to pour your heart and feelings for someone else, especially to someone you've not known for too long. "I'll...try my hardest, Seokmin. I'm not perfect."

"Who is?" Seokmin counters, peppering kisses along your jawline. "Perfection is such a boring concept."

"I will be terrible at running this palace," you're scrambling, digging your nails into his shoulders as he bites your collar bone, "All the balls and meetings. I can't."

"Nonsense," Seokmin's voice is low and raspy, his lips hovering over the hollow of your throat, "I need my villainous wife to put those in line."

"Right," you breathe, tangling your fingers in his hair, arching into his mouth, "Right. I'll...scare them. That's...that's my expertise, after all."

He pulls back, flashing a smile so beautiful and pure that it knocks the air out of you. "The most vicious of villainess, ready to inflict terror upon the court."

You let out a laugh, cupping his cheeks. "My prince...you are such an idiot."

Seokmin pulls the pins and ribbons from your hair and they tumble down around you, his fingers getting caught as he rakes through the locks, stroking your hair. You bite your lip and gasp when his mouth moves down to the column of your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses along the tender flesh, a slow burning heat igniting within you as he nips the skin and laves his tongue across the marks.

You cling to him desperately, your hands shaking as they fumble to undo his jacket, the satin soft beneath your palms. You're drowning in sensations, your head spinning, and your heartbeat thrumming wildly in your ears. Seokmin helps you along, pulling off the constricting fabric, his shirt quickly following.

Your mouth goes dry and you forget how to breathe when you admire his exposed upper body, the sleek lines of his chest and stomach, the defined muscles under his bronze skin.

He's beautiful, breathtaking, and you're mesmerized, your hand reaching out to trace over the curve of his shoulders, down the elegant arch of his neck.

"You're positive that you never had other women touch you?" you ask skeptically.

"Just you," he answers with a smile, "You, my dearest wife."

You pause. "...what if I'm terrible in bed?"

Seokmin stops kissing your shoulder, his dark brown eyes flicking up to meet yours, the corners of his mouth quirking upward, dimpling his cheeks. His amusement is evident, causing a pink blush to rise and spread over your face. "Then we can be horrible together."

"So comforting," you mutter, a twinge of nervousness fluttering in the pit of your stomach. "I... don't even know where to begin..."

"Then we can explore it all, together," he removes the dress and unlaces your corset, helping you out of the layers of fabric. He sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils dilating as your body is revealed to him.

"Ummm...don't just stare. You'll make me nervous," you squirm and try to hide yourself from him, but he catches your arms and keeps them still.

"It's beautiful...you're beautiful," he marvels, his eyes soft and adoring. Seokmin studies you closely, as if he were trying to commit the sight to memory, to carry it in his heart forever. His gaze sweeps over you reverently, full of tender adoration and it causes your insides to feel gooey.

Seokmin kisses the inside of your wrist, trailing soft, ticklish caresses down your arm, eliciting a breathless gasp of pleasure. His movements are unhurried, allowing you both the opportunity to explore one another.

You arch into him when Seokmin takes one of the hardened peaks of your breast into his mouth, your fingers running through the soft silky strands of his hair, cradling his head to you, urging him to continue.

"Have mercy," he whispers, nuzzling the valley between your breasts, before switching to the other, "Your responses are...mesmerizing." Seokmin trails his fingers up the underside of your thighs, slowly parting your legs and shifting them over his broad shoulders.

"W-What are you doing?" you squeaked, trying to squeeze your legs shut, your toes curling against the supple skin of his bare back.

Seokmin grins devilishly. He blows against your clit, delighting in the way your hips buck towards him, before dragging his tongue down along the slit. "Tasting you. Trying to figure out which part will make you call my name."

You don't have time to process what that means before his mouth is latched onto you, his tongue delving past your folds, tracing intricate patterns and licks that make your knees shake. He uses his thumb to play with your clit while he thrusts his tongue into you, his fingers moving to spread your inner lips so he can lick you clean, tasting the essence of you.

You couldn't remember what your own name is as you writhe beneath him. Seokmin hums against you, the vibrations setting your nerves ablaze, his nose bumping against your clit. You buck into him, clutching him for dear life as his mouth works to bring you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, every touch electrifying.

There's nothing else but Seokmin. There's no need for any other thoughts, no obligations. The warmth of his breath and the slickness of his tongue, the way he takes his sweet, agonizing time lavishing attention on you, heats the fire that's burning low in your belly, flames licking upwards, scorching and bright, threatening to burst.

You call his name when you come, sobbing out broken syllables into the evening air, your entire body trembling. His strong arms hold you upright, holding you tightly as you shudder in his embrace, riding out the waves of ecstasy and delight.

When you return to reality, Seokmin is gazing up at you, a lazy smile stretching his swollen mouth, his chin and cheeks glistening. He brings up his thumb, swiping the wetness before sucking on the digit. The action causes your stomach to twist in delightful anticipation, your thighs squeezing together as another rush of arousal spikes through you.

You think you should feel dirty and embarrassed after climaxing against his mouth, but it doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest, only serving to encourage him more.

"How was I?" he asks, trailing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses over your hips. "Not too bad of a first try, right?"

He looks so absurdly pleased with himself, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles out. You pull his face towards yours and taste yourself on his lips. "You are unbelievable," you giggle, wiping the last remnants of your juices from his face.

"So I did good," Seokmin says as he slides up your body, his heated skin rubbing against yours in the most tantalizing way, until his face is level with yours. You cup his cheeks, bringing him closer, sealing his mouth over yours. You moan into him at the flavor of the two of you combined and Seokmin groans, biting your lower lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth, the velvet appendage dancing with yours in a slow, sensual waltz. He reaches down, dipping his fingers into the wetness seeping from your center, making sure you're ready. "Y/N," he whispers your name softly, "Is this really your first time?"

"Why does this concern you?" you grumble.

He presses a kiss to your brow. "It does...because I want you to enjoy it as well," he murmurs.

"Despite what others say about me," you draw little shapes on his shoulders, "I've never lain with any man, not in the way you mean."

He chuckles, nipping the sensitive skin below your ear. "Glad to be your first."

Before you can say anything, Seokmin drops down and covers one of your breasts with his palm, pinching the nipple between his fingers, the sensation shooting a bolt of heat to your core. You gasp, covering your face as the overwhelming sensations of the day's activities continue.

"Y/N," Seokmin stops teasing the swell of your breasts. Your hands slip away, a soft cry escaping your lips, and his forehead drops to yours, eyes searching. "Would you rather I take you from behind? To see each other is not as bad, but..." he runs his hands up and down the expanse of your back, his erection rubbing against the skin of your lower abdomen. "If you're more comfortable then... that way would be best."

You shake your head. "No. This is fine, please," you mumble, gripping his shoulders and hiding in the curve of his neck. "Please."

"Let me know if I hurt you," he whispers before lifting and spreading your thighs. He runs the tip along the slit, nudging the opening. "I'll stop whenever you want."

"Go...just go," you squeak out.

Slowly, he presses himself into you. "Oh, goddess," his eyes slam shut, a harsh groan tearing from his throat, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, his expression twisted with pained pleasure, "you're so tight, you feel so fucking good."

You gasp at the stinging stretch and the almost-too-much pressure of his intrusion. His eyes shoot open at your pained hiss and he freezes immediately, stroking his hands over your skin. "Do you-"

"Don't you dare stop," you order him. Your hands grip his forearms, steadying yourself. You grit your teeth, bracing for the pain as he buries himself in to the hilt, fighting the urge to curse. Seokmin burrows his face against the side of your head, his breath fanning over you as he waits for your body to adjust to him.

"Ah, Y/N... fuck..." Seokmin moans your name softly, pressing hot, fervent kisses across the column of your neck.

"Give...give me a second," you pant, biting your lip hard and wincing as he rubs soothing circles into the soft skin.

"Just breathe...shh," he soothes, murmuring calming words against your lips, capturing your mouth. He does his best to keep you relaxed as the initial pain slowly melts into a burning ache that's not entirely unpleasant. He nudges his nose against yours. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yes..." you breathe out slowly, dropping your forehead on his chest.

Your walls are twitching deliciously around him, clenching tightly. It's difficult for him not to give into the urge and thrust into your tight warmth. He runs his hand over your face, pulling you away from his chest and captures your lips in a lingering, sensual kiss. The coil of heat twists inside of you again and you give an experimental shift of your hips, the stinging not as painful as it was seconds ago.

Seokmin peppers kisses along the valley between your breasts and neck, whispering soothing words, waiting for you to adjust, to relax around him before beginning to move.

"You can move now," you tell him, cupping his face, "Sl-Slowly."

You bite the inside of your cheek as he pulls back, gripping his arms, the stinging ache flaring briefly before melting into a heated pulse as he thrusts forward, pushing back in. His hand skims down the side of your waist, resting on your hip, anchoring you to him as he slowly rocks himself into you. "Is it better?" he rasps out, nuzzling the sensitive hollow just below your ear, "Or do I need to stop?"

"K-Keep going," your hands slide up along the smooth ridges and plains of his chest. He exhales heavily, burying himself fully, and your fingers grasp at his hair, pulling the locks with each of his slow thrusts, his strokes gentle and mindful as he sets the pace.

"You're beautiful," he whispers, "...so beautiful." You whimper, tipping your head back and he takes advantage of the position, the slope of your neck open and exposed to him, his lips moving over the skin, branding it with marks that claim. Your nails scrape along the curve of his biceps, down his toned biceps. Seokmin's warm hands splay on your back, his fingers reaching around and grabbing the full swell of your ass.

He hitches your thigh higher against his waist, grinding into you, brushing against an exceptionally sensitive area. Every roll of his hips has him brushing up against a sensitive spot that has you arching into him. Your fingers trace over the sharp angle of his jaw and the edge of his elegant brow, before he draws you into a heated kiss that leaves you both breathless and craving more.

Everything feels new and exciting and Seokmin is content to help you explore this unknown territory, his hands encouraging and loving and patient. With every gasp, moan, and touch, you can feel something stirring within, growing stronger, taking root deep in your soul.

He begins to pick up the pace, his hips meeting yours in a delicious friction, drawing a chorus of breathless groans. The sensations overwhelm you, his sweat-slicked skin gliding against yours, the heat and scent of his body cocooning you in warmth and security and desire.

There's nothing else but thoughts of him. Nothing but Seokmin. How good it feels, how you need more, how the sensations have your stomach quivering, how you'll let yourself drown in his touch.

You've forgotten how to breathe properly as he draws your name over and over again between sighs and kisses, and with the reverence and ardor with which he worships you. Your legs wrap around his waist and he surges forward, causing you to call his name breathlessly, crying out from the over-sensitized nerve endings and the tightening heat coiling low.

"Let go," he breathes raggedly into your ear, and with a snap of his hips he drives his length to the hilt.

And just like that, you unravel, his name on your lips as white-hot heat burns through you. Seokmin stiffens and surges forward with a broken moan, shuddering, his fingers digging into your hips as he chases the high and finally joins you.

For a few moments the two of you stay in the same position, regaining your breath. A layer of sweat glistens over your skin and Seokmin uses his fingers to gently rub your arms. When you look at his face, the sight causes you to swallow thickly. He's beaming, eyes aglow as he gazes upon you.

His eyes are so warm, his smile so brilliant and bright and blinding that it nearly steals your breath. Your chest throbs, aching fiercely, the odd sensation overwhelming, almost too much.

This is ridiculous. Absurd. Impossible. There's no way you've fallen this hard for this stupid, sun-lit man. Not after one night. And yet, with Seokmin touching you, looking at you with those beautiful eyes, his hair disheveled and framing the angles of his handsome face, you know that your heart has already been lost.

"Can..." you chew on the inside of your cheek as he tucks some of the unruly strands behind your ear, his brown eyes warm and steady and completely focused on you. "Can we do that again?"

Seokmin lets out a husky laugh that sends shivers racing up and down your spine. "My dearest wife," he croons, wrapping his arms around you, pecking you sweetly, "all you have to do is say the word."

The palace was bustling as preparations for the summer ball were underway. Servants, workers and military men scrambled through the halls as you made your way, tugging Seokmin alongside you.

It's been three months since you first lain together and both have enjoyed the intimacies that are now shared between each other. Your feelings have begun to grow and with it, a little living being inside of you. You haven't told him yet about the impending bundle of joy, waiting for the perfect time.

However, your good mood has dropped to a completely sour one. When you found out that Heejoo would assist you as a lady-in-waiting, you wanted nothing more than to roast her in a flame spell. But because your father and stepmother begged the king for it, there wasn't anything you could say.

"What a day," you grumble, tying a ribbon on the flower garlands for the ball. "If Heejoo undermines me one more time, I'll throw her from the second floor balcony. Or roast her. Whichever is the first one to appear in my mind."

Your husband chuckles. "Did something happen?" he inquires as the both of you continue making your way towards the main hall.

"Other than Heejoo telling the maids to switch out the flowers and linens that I had been picking all morning? No, nothing at all," you roll your eyes as you reply sarcastically.

Seokmin glances over at you. He offers you a sympathetic pat on the hand.

"Tell me. If this place was lit on fire, how long do you think it would take them to burn? A few minutes? An hour, tops?" you muttered.

"No arson," Seokmin laughs as he helps you settle down onto the garden chairs for your afternoon tea.

You laugh. "Fire spells are useful." You wiggle your eyebrows as he joins you.

The both of you start to work on the plans for the upcoming events, making changes and comments on the events that would be taking place. You hold back a wince. There had been a bout of morning sickness lately and Seokmin noticed you massaging your stomach earlier.

"Are you hurt?" He reaches over to your hands, cupping them with his. "Y/N?" His voice drops and there's no hiding from him now. He looks so concerned as his eyes narrow into slits, his gaze scouring your body for the source of pain. He's looking at you in a way that warms you from the inside out, his soft voice, full of concern.

It almost hurts to realize just how much this man actually loves you. How much you love him back. It makes you want to do everything and anything you can to make sure this wonderful man in front of you doesn't ever experience sadness in his life. To protect him from everything, his and yours, to ensure that he could smile like that for the rest of your lives.

"My prince," you started, "I need to tell you something very important."

"I'm all ears," he replied, burying his face against the crook of your neck, his large hands holding you close to his warm body.

"You'll have to start being more gentle with me in bed," you whisper, taking one of his hands and guiding it to your stomach, letting it linger.

"Why?" his voice was laced with concern as his head shot up and his brows pulled together, "Am I doing something wrong? Did I hurt you? Did I-"

You press a finger to his lips, shushing his panicked mumbling. "You haven't hurt me, and you didn't do anything wrong. And as for why you should be gentle..." You press his palm firmly against the slight bump on your abdomen.

"...Oh," Seokmin pauses and blinks, realization dawning on him, the tips of his ears pink. He opens his mouth, closes it, swallows hard, and then opens it once more. "OH."

A burst of laughter bubbles from your chest and you find yourself nodding, kissing his chin. "Mhmm...so be a little softer with me, alright?"

"Are you absolutely positive?" Seokmin asked softly, his hand splaying protectively over your belly, his lips ghosting against your hair, "It isn't a mistake?"

"Definitely no mistake," you confirm, "You can ask the palace staff. I've been having horrible morning sickness." You look down, blushing a light pink. "And with the way we've been going at it lately...it would be difficult for it to be any one else's."

He laughs, a sound as lovely as wind chimes, melodic and sweet, "I...uh, guess we do get quite...rambunctious at night."

You tuck your head into the junction of his neck and shoulder, hiding the burning embarrassment as you recall just how many times a day he's been coming to you, eager and wanting.

Not that you didn't welcome him with open arms, his appetite insatiable, his lips worshipping your body and soul.

"Let's announce it at the Summer Ball," he says suddenly, sounding happier than you've ever heard him before. He stands abruptly, hands cupping your flushed cheeks, eyes warm and bright. "It'll be a great celebration."

Your heart melts at the excitement swirling in his brown eyes.

You grin and allow your prince to scoop you in his arms and spin the both of you around in gleeful celebration, squealing with delight. The announcement of an heir, especially a future king or queen, was a joyful event and one to be celebrated.

But in your joy, neither one of you noticed that someone had witnessed your private moment, hiding behind one of the many bushes dotting the beautiful landscape.

You're as big as a whale and you are now in your ninth month of pregnancy. The baby would be arriving at any moment so you've had to stop attending to all the state affairs, letting Seokmin handle them instead. While you were grateful that your husband had been so attentive to you and the growing child in your womb, you found yourself getting bored and restless. You hated being cooped up in your bedroom, unable to do anything else but read. The only good thing about it was that you were able to use your magic to help alleviate some of your aches and pains.

"You're getting bigger," Seokmin notes, pressing a kiss to your swollen stomach.

"I'm going to explode," you groan, your feet up on a small ottoman as he rubs your ankles for you. "I can't believe I'm this huge. I look like a balloon."

"It's a good thing," he grins, "Means that the baby is coming soon. You'll be able to see our child sson."

"Our child. It still feels weird to say that," you giggle, "Who knew the most feared woman in the kingdom would end up as a mother?" You turn to look at him. "Seokmin?"

"Hmmm?" he hums, his eyes closed.

"I love you," you smile softly at him as you speak, your heart full to bursting. You know that you can't keep it a secret for much longer and you want him to know the truth.

The words hit him like a lightning bolt. He goes completely still, his entire body turning rigid, before his eyes flutter open, a stunned expression on his face. "You...You love me?" he stutters, "Did you mean that?"

"Of course, I meant it. What? Were you expecting me to say that I hate you?" you chuckle as you lean forward to kiss him. You pull back slightly, looking into his brown eyes. "I love you, Seokmin."

He beams brightly and you realize that you've never seen him so happy. "I love you too," he whispers against your lips. "I love you so much."

You sigh happily, content with his love, your heart singing with joy at his admission. You have no clue as to how much time has passed with the two of you sitting there and trading sweet kisses and gentle caresses.

"Do you think our child is a boy or girl?" you wonder as you settle comfortably in his embrace.

"Hmmm...As long as our baby is healthy, I don't mind having a little prince or princess," he remarks.

"I have no clue on how to care for a child...what if I am terrible at raising one?" you worriedly mumble as you pick at the embroidery on your dress. "What if I don't make a very good mother?"

"Hey now," Seokmin shifts around, laying flat and guiding you to rest your cheek on his chest. "I'll be beside you every step of the way."

"Don't you find that frightening," you worriedly admit, "the thought of us having a child, being parents, what if our child learns their bad ways from me? Like setting things on fire?" Your words give him pause for a few moments before a light, warm laughter emanates from the deep planes of his chest and out of his lips. "It's not funny! Stop laughing, Seokmin!" You shove him lightly, trying to be firm despite how happy the sound makes you.

His arms tighten around you and he pulls you closer. "You'll be a wonderful mother," Seokmin reassures you as his lips kiss the top of your head. "Because the woman that I love with all my heart would never hurt our child or let anything bad happen to them."

You sniffled. "O-Oh yeah? How are you so sure?" you laugh with a choked voice, your eyes growing wet at his sweet declaration. He always knows what to say and how to make you feel better, and how can a villainess not fall madly in love with such a wonderful person?

"Because the woman I know is kind, understanding and compassionate, patient and hardworking, passionate and fierce."

You reach down to thread his fingers through his own. His hand is warm and big and perfectly fitted to yours, the same warmth, and love emanating through you and spreading from the tips of your fingers.

Seokmin draws slow circles onto your shoulders, his other hand keeping your head against his steady heartbeat. "Everything will work out. No matter what happens, I will be with you," he murmurs softly and you burrow even closer to him, hiding your tears away from view. "And I know I am very happy about meeting my future princess or prince."

"Please stop being so perfect," you mutter.

Seokmin gives a rumbling laugh as you nuzzle against him, sighing softly, and his body curls protectively around yours. His hand runs slowly over your back, up and down the length of your spine, as his soft voice floats around you, and you find your muscles slowly relaxing.

His words fade away into the background, and all you can do is close your eyes as a sweet sleepiness drifts over you, settling deeply into your very core.

Seokmin is working late tonight and you're sitting in your shared rooms, reading reports from Hyunwoo. You rub your round belly absentmindedly, humming to your unborn child when you hear a knock on the door.

"Come in," you call out, your eyes never leaving the words on the paper.

You hear the soft click of the door, the sound of shoes, and a woman's footsteps as she enters. "Your highness," Heejoo curtsies to you.

"Oh," you sigh, "what do you want?" You're tired and your feet are killing you. There's nothing you want more than a hot bath and to sleep. But first, you want this person who is making your life difficult to leave.

"Please forgive me for disturbing your rest," she begins, "but I brought tea and snacks for you." Heejoo gestures to the tray that she had brought with her. "I know the pregnancy has been quite a chore for you and I just wanted to help."

You study her for a few moments, your instincts telling you that something was off, but your tiredness clouded your judgment. You decide to dismiss the feelings and sigh. "Alright." You motion towards her to bring it over.

The corner of her lips curve up, an uncharacteristically malicious expression marring her pretty face. You never catch it since you're pouring over another report. Heejoo puts the tray on your table and pours tea into the cup that sits there, using an herb to infuse its fragrance and a sugar cube to add its sweetness before she mixes it in, her motions a perfect picture of politeness. "My congratulations on the upcoming arrival. The whole family is excited for the newest addition."

"You seem rather chipper," you raise an eyebrow at her as you raise the cup to your lips. The taste was different from the usual tea that your maids would make. There was a strange, bitter flavor to it. You set the cup down, raising an eyebrow. "Something's off."

Heejoo's smile widens. "Oh, it's just a special tea that I made for you."

"Is that so?" You rub your tummy, feeling your child move and kick a little. You then begin to massage the ache. "Thank you. You're dismissed." You wave at her, the aching starting to grow.

Heejoo's frame trembles with hidden mirth at the sight of you drinking the tea without question. "You're quite welcome, sister." She pauses at the threshold and looks over at you, the vicious smirk lingering. "He should have been mine."

"What?" you manage to cough out.

Her smirk grows bigger as she approaches you once more. Her steps are elegant and precise and you suddenly feel nauseous. "Pity the villainess only learns her lesson right when her happily ever after is snatched from under her," she cooes at you, her voice high-pitched as she mockingly pats you on the cheek, her brown eyes filled with hatred. "Well, soon you won't have to worry anymore because you won't be around to know."

Realization sets in, the pain in your abdomen becoming unbearable, your heartbeat accelerates and your vision swirls. "Y-you," you hunch over, crying from the pain and trying to gather your energy.

Heejoo stands straight and clasps her hands together, sighing contentedly, "I'm glad that you were stupid enough to drink it. I will rid this kingdom of both you and your child." She flicks her hair, letting it fall into waves over her slender shoulder, and smiles gleefully at you.

Tears burn the back of your eyes and the pain in your chest swells. "Why are you doing this?" You grunt from pain as you lean against the settee, clutching at the spot over where your heart beats furiously.

"I was supposed to be his bride!" Heejoo screams as her perfectly crafted image comes crashing down. "It was supposed to be me!" she continues, her hand twirling her hair as a manic smile appears, the colors draining from her. "This was supposed to be my happy ending but no, you got in the way when you survived that assassination attempt! You were never meant to be the heroine. How dare you have the gall to take everything from me?!"

You let out a sigh of amusement. "Oh Heejoo..." You shake your head and stand, forcing yourself up, holding your round belly. "YOU took everything from me," you breathe out shakily, the pain unbearable. You close your eyes and breathe out. "The moment your mother married my father," your voice rises and falls sharply. You pant and wipe your hand over your brow. "The moment you and Heecheon were born," your breathing grows deeper and harder. "Everything was handed to you," your knees start to buckle from the lack of oxygen and pressure from the tea. "I'm just taking it all back."

Heejoo cries out in outrage. "Shut up! Everything was supposed to be MINE!" she snaps. "You should have died that night. And yet, here you are. Still alive." Her fists are clenched so hard, her knuckles start to turn white. "That child." A snarl appears on her face as she points at your tummy. "I will not let you have the one thing that should have been mine."

"Don't you dare harm this child!" you roar as you stumble forward, catching yourself with a coffee table. The table toppled and sent the porcelain that sat on its surface flying.

"You can't hurt me," she grins wildly. "Not while you're on death's door." Heejoo puts her finger to her chin, looking thoughtful, her brown eyes twinkling malevolently. "His highness will be so sad," she mocks, "losing a baby and his beloved wife."

Hate. It's the only thing you feel as you listen to her empty self righteous speech. Hate and despair, not just because of the agony the poison had wrought in your body, but because you'll never see your child or your husband again.

Seokmin...he didn't deserve this, you think as your knees buckle and you slump to the ground, trying to drag your body forward, trying to make your limbs move, trying to access your magic. But all you can feel is that sweet numbness coming over your body, seeping slowly and completely into your very core.

"My dearest sister," she spits out and glares, pulling a dagger from her skirts, "it's time for you to die."

She raises her dagger but she never gets the chance to strike you.

Seokmin, who had entered the room to check on you, rushed over to you as the guards surrounded Heejoo. They grabbed her immediately, not that she didn't go willingly. It was useless to fight a losing battle. The guards dragged her out, ignoring her screeching as they locked her up. "Take her to the dungeons," he orders, his eyes never leaving you. He turns to you, taking you in his arms. "Are you alright? Did she hurt you?"

"Seokmin," you breathe out, holding onto him as he picks you up. "I'm...I'm sorry. I was so tired and I...I should have known better than to trust her."

"Shh," he hushes you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, "don't blame yourself." He lays you down on the bed and summons the maids to get a healer. Your body aches from Heejoo's attack and you're still dizzy, feeling the remnants of the tea.

"Your highness," one of the maids calls out, "we need to get the baby out of her." The maids begin to take off your clothes and the healer begins to examine you.

"It's time?" you ask, panic rising in you.

The healer nods. "We need to get the child out now. The poison will be deadly for the child."

Seokmin takes your hand, his other hand rubbing your belly soothingly. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He kisses you gently, whispering words of reassurance.

"You must be strong," the healer says, "the baby must come out."

"Seokmin," you gasp, your fingers squeezing his hand so tight that you're sure it'll bruise. "I'm scared."

"I thought I'll never see the day where my strong wife will admit to being scared." He cups your chin with his free hand, tilting your face up. He pecks you on the lips. "I'm afraid too," he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours, eyes screwed shut and eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He exhales loudly. "This is the hardest thing I ever had to do. I'm terrified to lose the one good thing that happened to me."

Tears stream down your face and you feel the reassuring caress of his hand on the side of your face, his thumb tracing your cheekbone and wiping away the moisture. "Do you...do you think our baby will be alright? Even after what happened?"

He lifts your entangled fingers and places them against the left side of his chest, your palm splaying over his heart. "Our hearts beat the same. And as long as it beats, our baby will be ok." You lean over, nuzzling the side of his face. He catches the tear that threatens to fall off your cheekbone. "And so will you, my love."

"Your highness, it's time," the healer speaks, "it is best for the child to come out now."

Seokmin presses another kiss to your lips, gentle, fleeting. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? Focus on the healer and you can squeeze the life out of me."

With Seokmin's encouragement whispered in your ear, you manage to deliver your baby, weak from poison and exhausted beyond measure. After the baby was delivered, the healers worked on clearing any traces of poison in both you and your baby. Seokmin stayed by your side the whole time, whispering encouragement and apologies, keeping you awake. Once the healers have declared you in the clear, he curls around your frame, spooning you, drawing you closer to him until you could feel his warmth against the whole of your skin.

"Sleep," he sighs against the crook of your neck.

And sleep you did.

You wake up to the sound of soft baby cooing and Seokmin's low murmurings.

"Hello there, my little prince," you hear him say softly as you blink your eyes open.

"Seokmin?" you call out groggily. "Is the baby...is it…"

Seokmin turns to look at you, a bright smile on his face. "Our baby is safe," he informs you, showing you the little bundle that he was cradling in his arms.

You gaze down at the tiny baby, tears forming in your eyes as you see the small child. You reach out, stroking a finger along the chubby cheek. "Hi, there," you whisper, a happy smile spreading across your face, "I'm so happy you're alright." You look up at Seokmin. "What happened to Heejoo? Is she…?"

"She's in prison," he nods, "she'll be there for a long time."

"How is my father and the rest of the family taking it?" you sigh, snuggling closer to your baby. You were surprised at the strong urge to protect your child.

"There's an open investigation against them. There are cases of embellizing funds, tax fraud and abuse of power." He explains as he gets comfortable next to you. "Your family, apart from Hyunwoo, are under house-arrest pending their hearings."

"Hyunwoo is okay?" you ask of your older brother.

"Yes," Seokmin affirms, "He's the only one that hasn't been charged with anything since he's one of the Grand Duke's men. If your father is stripped of his title, then it will go to Hyunwoo since the eldest of a direct line is always the heir."

"But...where do I stand?" you ask worriedly.

"My wife is worried about her reputation," he teases. You hit his shoulder and he yelps out. "You have nothing to worry about. You're one of the Grand Duke's people, the crown princess and most of all, my wife." He places a light kiss to your cheek, smiling against your warm flesh.

"I'm the wife of a fool," you smile affectionately at him, "but at the same time, a strong, powerful man." You kiss him, letting your emotions convey how you felt. When you part from him, you smile and cup his cheek with a gentle palm, thumb running along the apple of it. "Seokmin, I..."

You were saved from uttering your feelings when a loud cry escaped the babe's mouth. "Oh, I guess the little prince is hungry," he grins softly. Seokmin places the child against your chest. "Our child is absolutely perfect and so are you."

The babe nuzzles close to your breast and you lift the garment to let the infant suckle, the soft noises comforting. Seokmin runs his hands over the baby's soft head. "I love you," he murmurs against the side of your head, "I love you so much."

The both of you gaze tenderly upon the small infant, his body relaxed as your smaller frame tenses up before Seokmin squeezes you in a warm embrace. He draws you as close to him, careful not to crush the child nestled against you, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I never thought," Seokmin swallows deeply, "that I can ever love you more than I already have, but the thought of losing you and our child scared me more than anything in the world." He squeezes you closer to him, almost as if he was making sure that the two of you are in fact safe. "I can never love another woman," Seokmin admits, his voice catching as he finally utters his fears, the pressure from his position and his heart. "If that woman isn't you."

You squeeze his hands in return, bringing them up to your face to kiss the knuckles. "You are also the first and only man I will love," you inform him, eyes studying every detail of his beautiful face, a hand reaching up to tangle in his locks. "And I love you so much." You pause as Seokmin blinks slowly before returning your affection, his soft lips meeting yours.

It's a soft kiss, comforting, a simple and intimate gesture of your devotion to one another. As your mouths move in tandem, his hand cups the side of your cheek and brings your head closer to him, making you almost lean into his embrace, into his warm, loving presence.

Pulling away, his breathing is heavy and his eyes remain locked onto yours, gazing at you lovingly and with a new-found fervor. The pad of his thumb strokes your cheekbone. He stares at you and your own mouth hangs open, your breath falling from your lips in deep inhales and exhales as he stares at you. You lean closer into his hand and his eyes are liquid amber, radiating with desire and affection. He lifts the small hand of the little bundle into the air and the child clutches at his father's larger hand.

Seokmin gives the back of the babe's hand a sweet kiss, his eyes locked onto you, and you can almost hear the words that hover in the air. You hope to see more of this loving and adoring father as your little family grows.

"I'm the villainess and you're the perfect crown prince," you tell him after some time, "and yet, here we are with a happy ending. For me, for you and most importantly, for our child."

Seokmin leans into your frame, hugging you, the three of you pressed up against one another. "Yes," he agrees softly. "This is the start of the beginning for us." He snuggles his face into the side of your neck, nipping at the exposed skin with his lips. "Let's make more babies. Lots of them," he mumbles against the crook of your shoulder.

You can only chuckle, patting the top of his head. "One at a time, husband," you whisper teasingly, "One at a time."

[cut1esdokyeom]

Oh Prince Seokmin saves the day with his charms 😩<3

[bluehoodiewoozi]

Burning Bridges

F1 driver!Lee Seokmin x fem!Reader (x ex!Choi Seungcheol)

Genre: big angst. fluff. reader overcomes a toxic relationship.

Word Count: 24.1k

Fic Content Warnings: food mentions. adult language. one suggestive scene but no explicit smut. toxic (and i cannot emphasise this enough) asshole ex!Choi Seungcheol. toxic journalists/media. something vaguely like a panic attack. confrontations that almost lead to physical fights. a tiny little car crash but no serious injuries. little cameos by my favourite drivers.

[Formula 1 AU] When your fiancé chooses his Formula 1 career over you and makes it everyone’s problem, his teammate Seokmin is not about to just sit back and watch.

♡ This fic is part of @camandemstudios Lights Out collab! Don't forget to check out the other writers' works and tell us what you think!! ♡ Big thank you to @haoboutyou for beta-reading and brainstorming with me. Couldn't have done it without you, bestie! ♡

[SPIELBERG 2024]

There he stood, right in front of the cameras, finally clad in the Red Bull Racing uniform he’d longed to wear all these years. Not only was he signed, he was their new golden child, sneaking onto the podium like it was all he knew how to do. And you couldn’t help but feel like you were being left behind.

You’d met Choi Seungcheol your first year on the paddock, back when he was just a fresh-faced rookie in a Haas uniform, not yet the absolute racing god he was now proving himself to be. Back when his eyes shone with a newfound spark every time they met yours in the crowd. 

The AlphaTauri drivers laughed and winked at you every time they practically dragged him over, all too aware of his reddening face and the slight stutter he only seemed to develop around you. 

“He’s good for content,” they’d joke while practically begging you to find games and challenges to do between the three of them, all while sharing conspiratorial grins and whispers you couldn’t hear. 

Seungcheol seemed awkward the first few times, and you almost apologised to him for your drivers’ lack of consideration for his feelings. But he interrupted you with a shy, “I don’t mind. I kind of like it, actually, hanging out with you.”

You were smitten. How could you not be? He was handsome, he was sweet, he was humble and kind. He brought you chocolate-covered snacks whenever he snuck into the AlphaTauri hospitality. He paid no mind to the teasing comments your drivers made between filming and photo shoots, only smiling shyly when you scolded them.

When you shared your first kiss – an emotional congratulations for his first points as a Formula 1 driver –, the AlphaTauri drivers cheered as if it was their own personal accomplishment. They were certain you had found the one – a romance of the ages, a love story with a happy ending. You believed them, giggling and swatting at their arms when they teased you about the affectionate looks your boyfriend sent your way. 

Two perfect years passed, an engagement ring found its way onto your finger, you moved into an apartment in Monaco together. You thought it couldn’t possibly get any better. 

Then he walked in with a wide smile and said the words that would lead to your downfall: “I got signed by Red Bull Racing for next season!”

At first, it seemed good. Perhaps you should have known it was too good to be true when he got you a promotion to the main team just so you could spend more time together. 

“Never should’ve introduced you to him,” Yuki half-joked when he found out, suddenly bemoaning the loss of his favourite social media manager. Now, only some months later, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d had that exact same thought again with no humour at all as he watched it all burn down from the sidelines.

It was nothing grand – the end. Nothing that would catch anyone’s eyes if they weren’t looking. No snide comments, no big displays of disinterest. Only an ever-growing lack of affection. 

He no longer brought you snacks, no longer saved a seat for you next to him, no longer ran over to you for a kiss after getting points. He wasn’t getting just points anymore anyway, only podiums now that he got to drive a car that could actually achieve them. No comments thanking his fiancée for support. No mention of a fiancée at all. 

He dedicated his first winning champagne to his mother, his second to his father, his third to his first carting instructor. An interviewer joked that Seungcheol’s grandmother’s cat would get a dedication before his lady friend, and your fiancé looked genuinely surprised when he asked, “Have I not dedicated one to her yet?” 

He dedicated the next one to his race engineer while you tried not to cry. 

“That guy really can’t take a hint,” Seokmin, your fiancé’s teammate, commented and nudged your side. He was still clad in his dark blue racing suit, cheeks flushed and hair a mess from the long drive. You felt a little guilty that you hadn’t paid attention to his race, unable to even guess where he’d ended up on the leaderboard. 

Not on the podium, you realised with a pang of compassion and offered him a smile you hoped wasn’t as sad as you felt. “He’s like that sometimes. Good drive, by the way.”

Seokmin scoffed out a laugh equal parts amused and disbelieving. He didn’t seem dismayed, not even a little bit unhappy. His eyes shone as he ruffled his hair and joked, “Did you even watch the race?”

You grimaced. “That obvious?”

“How do you work for Red Bull Racing and not watch the race?” he wondered as if it were truly a mystery. “We both might get reprimanded by the team principal at this rate.”

“Both?” Your eyes widened just a bit at the notion. You barely paid any mind to the way his hand found its way to your back and gently led you away from the podium, into the garage, away from the crowds. “Why would you get reprimanded?”

He shrugged. “Only one Red Bull on the podium tends to do that.”

Now curiosity was starting to get the best of you. “Where’d you finish?”

“P8,” he answered after some hesitation, just as the national anthem of South Korea started blasting through the track. You glanced back over your shoulder but shrugged it off. 

“That’s not too bad.”

“I might have kind of gotten in your boyfriend’s way on the track,” he added quickly, his eyes widening as if it was only hitting him now. “When they told me to let him through.”

“You ignored team orders?” you gasped and slapped his arm. He only laughed. “Why would you do that? You’re going to be in so much trouble!”

He shrugged and looked towards the ceiling for answers. “Maybe I thought he needed to be taken down a notch. His head’s getting too big with all these podiums.”

You suspected that was only half of the truth. Not that you could prove it. 

“Much good it did, he still won the race,” you half-joked. “But good effort though.”

His smile was as bright as the sun. “I’ll try harder next time.”

“Maybe you should–”

“Hey, (Y/n), you’re friends with Seungcheol, right?” a voice asked, speedy footsteps rushing up to you. A small cardboard box was placed in your hand, and your fiancé’s new press officer smiled at you, pleading, “Can you give him this? I’d do it myself, but I have to rush to catch my flight. Family emergency, you know how it goes.” You could barely nod before she smiled brighter and left. “Thank you!”

Your mouth was open, but no sound came out. You could only stare at the box in your hand as the reality set in, one tiny and painful word at a time. 

“Did she just–?” Seokmin voiced your thoughts for you, equally baffled. “She’s worked here for years. How does she not know?”

Your chest felt tight. There was something in your throat, and it tasted a lot like tears you hadn’t yet had the courage to cry. Seokmin took the package from your shaking hands before you could find the words to ask him to. 

“I need air,” is all you finally managed to say as you rushed away from him, away from everything. The friends you’d made on the paddock watched in concern, calling your name as you practically ran from the event. 

Your car smelled like his body wash and cologne. His back-up bag sat on the back seat, still unzipped from when he’d searched for his paddock pass just some hours ago. 

Back when everything was still okay, you thought to yourself before laughing without much humour at all. Your head came to rest on the steering wheel, the cold leather providing relief, keeping your tears at bay. The ring felt heavy on your finger.

His friend. A year ago, no one would have dared to even guess something like that. It used to be so obvious: his lovesick smiles, his soft glances, the way his attention never seemed to stay on task when you were around. Most people had assumed you were dating long before you made it public, but now you were engaged to marry and you had been described as just his "friend" more times than you could count this month alone.

No, you were hit with a heavy realisation some twenty minutes later and wiped your tears. It hasn’t been okay in a while.

You found him two hours later, sitting in the garage, smiling and laughing with the mechanics and engineers. As if everything was fine and dandy and perfect – for him, maybe that was the truth. Perhaps it was only you that had a problem.

You needed to know.

“Seungcheol, can we talk?” you interrupted one of the mechanics’ anecdotes. 

They shared confused, curious looks, raising their brows at your fiancé. Some wiggled their eyebrows and laughed, patting him on the shoulder as they left one by one until there was no one between you and the man you had thought you would marry. You didn’t feel so certain of it now.

“I was starting to wonder where you were." He smiled at you and got up from his seat on the floor, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. You turned your head before he could. His lips landed on your cheek instead. He didn’t seem to mind. “Didn’t see you when I was on the podium.”

A part of you wondered if he’d even looked at all. If he ever had.

He noticed your silence, all too familiar with your habits. His brows furrowed in something like worry as his hands wrapped around yours. You gently removed them and hid your hands in the pockets of your team jacket, squeezing them into fists so hard your nails pricked the skin. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and his voice sounded so soft, so gentle. For a moment, it felt like you had your Seungcheol back: the way his tone always softened when he spoke to you, the way he never dared to raise his voice in front of you, the way he never missed a chance to hold your hand. You hadn’t seen this version of him in months. 

“Do I still matter to you?” you voiced your doubts so quietly you barely heard them yourself.

But he heard you just fine. You knew he did, even when he leaned forward with wide eyes and asked, “What? What are you talking about?”

“Do I still matter,” your wavering voice paused as you swallowed, “to you?” 

His brows furrowed even more. Your fingers itched to reach up and smooth his frown like you used to do back when it was just the two of you. You resisted the urge and bit down on your lip to remind yourself you needed answers. 

“Of course you do,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Do I?” you parroted, feeling like a broken record. He’d given his answer, you knew he had, but you couldn’t help but not believe him. This is what it felt like, you now realised: not trusting the person you love most.

“You do matter to me!” his voice suddenly rose and echoed in the garage. The few mechanics still left tried their hardest to look uninterested, but even a fool would’ve known they were all texting about it in a group chat. 

For once, you were the centre of attention. But you couldn’t have cared less. Just like he had just moments ago, you felt yourself burst with emotions you didn’t recognise. Your voice matched his before you could think about it twice. “If I matter so much, then why do you keep hiding me?! Why do you keep avoiding me in front of the media?”

“I don’t– I’ve never–” 

You scoffed so hard it hurt your throat. “Your press officer asked me if I’m your friend. Your friend, Choi Seungcheol!” The diamond on your finger flashed past his eyes – a reminder. “A year ago, you were ready to drop everything if I just said ‘yes’, and now I’m just your friend?”

“You’re not just a friend,” he tried to assure you, his voice hoarse from the emotions coursing through his body. “You know you’re not–”

“Do I?” An unwanted tear slipped down your cheek. You wiped it as fast as it appeared. You wouldn’t cry in front of him, you wouldn’t let him see how much he had hurt you. You shouldn’t have to. “It’s like I don’t know you anymore. I used to know you like the back of my hand: all your habits, your mood, your fucking dreams. Then you got that seat and suddenly I don’t know the man who sleeps in our bed, who mumbles racing stats in his sleep, who lets the media call me just a friend.”

That word felt like bitter poison on your tongue. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, glaring holes into his car instead. The damned dark blue Formula 1 car with the damned red number 8. Eight for his birthday, for infinite possibilities, for eternity. It was clear you were no longer part of his eternity, or even his present. Before you knew it, the ring was clenched in your right hand. You gave it a pitying glare before all but shoving it into his palm.

The hurt was clear in his eyes. Tears, unshed yet but certainly not for long. His jaw agape while he gasped for air as if you had just actually punched the air out of him. Just a broken man in a racing suit.

Good, you thought and turned to leave. Serves him right.

Just like that, you were done. Two and a half years gone in an instant, a romance burnt in mere seconds. You hoped the ache in your chest would disappear before the next race weekend.

[ZANDVOORT 2024]

The ache had other plans. It didn’t go away the next race weekend, nor the one after it. Silverstone, Budapest, Spa – three races passed and you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. You asked an intern to do the filming, the photos, the mini interviews for the fans, and focused your attention on the editing and the paperwork. The ache persisted. 

“You’re going to get a hunched back sitting over your laptop like that,” Seokmin commented and sat down next to you, right there in the hospitality where most of the team had started to avoid you. He smiled and motioned to an ice cream cup in a previously empty spot next to your laptop. “The weather’s hot today. You should be careful.”

You almost dismissed his worries, assuming he was just making conversation. That’s what the team members who hadn’t taken Seungcheol’s side had started doing anyway. 

Then he pinched the fabric on the sleeve of your Red Bull hoodie, two sizes too big for your stature. “Seriously, you’re going to get a heat stroke in this weather.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, feeling dumb all of a sudden. Had heartbreak broken you physically as well as emotionally? You hadn’t even realised how hot it was, the late August heat wave blasting through the paddock. Outside, the people wore sundresses and shorts. And yet here you sat, cowering in an oversized hoodie as if it was the middle of winter.

When you glanced up, Seokmin was looking at you. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, small and full of concern you had only started noticing after your break-up. You couldn’t help but worry you had broken the paddock’s resident sunshine along with your own heart. 

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?” he asked and he had never sounded so soft. You were used to loud, boisterous, jokingly arrogant Lee Seokmin, driver of the car 9, always distracting his teammate from the goal of whatever you were filming, always the loudest man on track. Usually, there was no corner of the paddock where you couldn’t hear his voice, but now you could barely hear him at all as he sat next to you.

You found yourself nodding. “I was hoping I would be back to normal by the time we get to Monza, but that seems far-fetched now.”

He looked at you for a while. There was something indecipherable in his eyes. Something unfamiliar and yet so warm. He cracked a smile. “Do you want me to drive him into the wall today?”

“You’re already on thin ice with the team,” you reminded him and shook your head.

“Fine,” he sighed before his eyebrows rose, a thought occurring under your very eyes. “I’m sure Yuki would jump at the chance though.”

“Don’t you dare give him ideas,” you warned him with a weak laugh. “He’s already crashed his car, like, twice this season.”

There was a stupid smile on his face. The one full of childish glee, as if you’d granted him his Christmas wish. “Third time’s the charm.”

“So is actually finishing the race!”

“If he does it during the last lap, I could give him a little push across the finish line.”

“Pretty sure that’s against regulations.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. “When did you become the FIA regulations’ expert?”

You couldn’t help but laugh some more. It felt good. Freeing. It had been a while since you’d last actually laughed. Maybe you wouldn’t feel normal until way after the season’s last Italian Grand Prix, but perhaps you were on your way to recovery still. 

Something about the smile on his face told you Seokmin was thinking the same thing. But his smile faded moments later, yours following close after. 

There he stood once again: Seungcheol with brown eyes stuck on you as if he was incapable of looking elsewhere. The dark blue team kit polo stretched across his torso as he crossed his arms over his chest, deadly daggers replacing the longing stares he'd once reserved for you. He turned on his heel and walked away to his room before you found your breath again. 

“Well, that was rude,” Seokmin mumbled under his breath. His gaze had taken a similar hard edge, following your ex’s (it still felt weird to think of him as such) movements like a guard dog on patrol. “You’d think he’d be nicer when he’s the reason you broke up.”

“Well, I did break up with him,” you noted and hid your face in your hands, “and he holds a grudge like no other.”

A comforting, warm hand placed itself on your back, rubbing soothing circles. 

“The offer still stands, you know.” He was only half-joking. “The wall looks mighty tempting today.”

You shook your head once more. “Don’t. He’s my problem, not yours. You’re supposed to be teammates.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my friend, and if he starts treating you badly, I won’t stay silent,” he said and it sounded like a sacred promise. 

A promise he fulfilled by beating Seungcheol in the race later on Sunday. He snatched the 2nd place from right under Seungcheol's nose in the last lap, overtaking him just before the finish line. The crowd cheered, you alongside them.

You should've known he was adding fuel to the fire.

That night, you caught a glimpse of one of Seungcheol's post-race interviews. You hated that your heart still skipped a beat — at least it was a small one now, rather than the leaps it used to do back then — when you saw him on the screen. You despised the fact that you couldn't look away.

He wasn't smiling. His brows were pulled into a frown, his gaze focused on the journalist as he intently listened to the questions.

You didn't mean to turn up the volume. It was a reflex, something you were yet to unlearn. His voice soon filled the room but no one stopped you. He was the leading driver of the team, after all. Everybody wanted to hear what he had to say.

"I mean, it was tough today," his low voice somehow sounded even lower than usual through the mic. "It's been a tough few races for me personally this season. Not just adjusting to the car, but overcoming personal challenges."

You wondered if he even considered the chaos his next words would bring.

"Driving with a broken heart is harder than I thought it would be, but I won't let that stop me."

And suddenly you were the new centre of the entire world: every sports fan, every sponsor, every colleague.

"Seungcheol and you broke up?" someone from the strategy team asked, staring at you with wide, disbelieving eyes as if such a possibility hadn't even occurred to him. "Since when?"

"A few weeks ago," you managed to say before the realisation fully hit you. In a matter of hours, you'd be the talk of the town, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

[MONZA 2024]

The news spread like wildfire. By the time you got back to your hotel, you were in the headlines of every gossip blog and magazine. You were being tagged in every TikTok over-analysing your past relationship, the fans demanding explanations and answers. You avoided your personal social media like the plague for a week. It didn't help a lot — you still had to manage the team's accounts, monitor them for activity.

But at least you could hide from the public eye. You weren't famous enough to be recognised in the streets, not without Seungcheol by your side. To the world, you were just a part of his story. They didn't stop to consider that you might be a person with feelings, too.

That much became evident on Thursday. Media day in Monza. The day when you and your interns were supposed to shine behind the scenes, organising interviews and filming silly short-form videos for fans to watch. You used to love Thursdays: the thrill of managing the schedules of your drivers, the chaotic joy of re-familiarising yourself with the paddock and the track, the buzzing of fans and social media interns and journalists all around you.

This time, you hated all of it. Every last thing you used to enjoy became your personal hell the moment you tapped your paddock pass at the gates.

Like predators on prey, all eyes turned to you. It was silent for a moment. They processed the situation. You almost breathed out in relief. Then someone called out, "Isn't that Seungcheol's girl?"

They descended like vultures, rushing over with their cameras and phones and microphones. Invasive questions flying left and right as you tried to push past them, they made you the main character you had no interest in being.

"How long ago did you break up?"

"Why did you break up?"

"Did you break his heart or did he break yours?"

"Is it true that you cheated on Seungcheol?"

The questions blended together. You refused to answer them. It was salt in the wound, the unwanted tearing off of a bandaid — your wounds had scarcely started to heal, and now they were getting torn open again.

You looked up to find your way, desperately seeking the hospitality unit. He caught your eye instead, leaning against the building, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you struggle. Seungcheol didn't smile but there was no remorse in his eyes either.

Gone were the days when he would have rushed to protect you.

An arm wrapped around you before you could tear your eyes away. You recognised him by his voice before even seeing him. Seokmin ushered the journalists away, threatening to call the security for breaching your privacy.

The flashing of the cameras got just a bit more tolerable but you could still hardly see where you were going. As if noticing your distress, Seokmin reached up to pull off his hat. The dark blue cap with a proud number 9 on it was gently placed upon your head, the cap pulled low to hide your eyes. His arm tightened around you, protective and sure.

"If she wants to tell you something, I'm sure she'll be happier to speak to you after she's had breakfast," he told the few who refused to listen to his warnings. His bodyguard made a path through the people, clearly more intimidating than Seokmin could ever be. Still, he continued. "Until then, please leave her be. She's not a driver — you should have no interest in her. It is not your business."

"But she dated Choi Seungcheol," one of the journalists told him like it was a piece of information that would change everything.

Seokmin laughed, but you heard no joy in it. "And I dated a member of Twice once. Make that your headline, if you must. Leave our staff out of it and go find a driver to bother. I'm sure Lando has something more interesting to say about his win last week."

"But the people want to know! Why did Choi Seungcheol and —"

The door slammed shut and you were welcomed by the blissful quiet of the Red Bull hospitality. Your knees gave out underneath you and you sank to the floor, Seokmin rushing to kneel beside you. Vaguely, you heard him tell someone to get you something to drink. His arm remained tight around you, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your shoulder.

"You're okay," he told you so softly you hardly heard it. Or maybe it's just that your heart was beating and your ears were ringing so loud that he sounded softer than usual. "You're safe here. You're okay."

"They all hate me," you found yourself whispering while you fought back tears. There was a glass of water in your hands; you had no memory of getting it. Your eyes burned and stung, but you refused to let them make you cry. You had cried enough already. "Why do they hate me?"

"They don't hate you," he insisted.

"They think I cheated on him."

"And we both know they're wrong. You don't owe them an explanation for their own inventions." He adjusted the hat on your head so he could see your eyes.

The smile he offered you was almost too sweet for the moment. It was the kind of smile a lover might give their loved one in a secret shared moment. You weren't sure you could smile at anyone like that ever again, betrayed to the highest degree.

You hugged him instead. His team kit polo smelled like fresh laundry and cologne you could never afford. You didn't bother to resist the urge to hide your face in it.

Let the others see, you thought. Let him see. You were too tired to fake it anymore.

"Oh my god," you heard a familiar voice tinged with a Japanese accent. Yuki — the man you might have blamed for your heartbreak if you felt any more vengeful. The man who had been your friend since your first day on the paddock. His voice lowered to a worried whisper, "What happened?"

"Seungcheol happened," Seokmin told him and handed you away. Suddenly, there was an undertone you had never heard in his voice. Something wild and dangerous. Something incredibly protective. Still, he offered you a kind smile and patted your shoulder as Yuki took his place next to you on the floor. "I'll be back in a sec, okay? I have to do something."

You didn't question it. You didn't dare to.

Instead, you enjoyed the comforting presence of an old friend. It wasn't the same, you realised. Yuki didn't deal in comforting whispers, warm smiles, and silent acts of service, not the way Seokmin did.

"Really shouldn't have introduced you two," he told you, not even bothering to hide his anger and annoyance as he hugged you close. You could practically hear him gritting his teeth in an effort to hold back. "This is all his fault."

"Please don't take your anger out on him on the track. I don't need you getting a penalty because of me."

He contemplated for a moment as if you had just presented an impossible ethical dilemma. A deep sigh. "Fine. I'll just beat him instead."

You hummed in approval. "I hope you will."

He didn't say anything else. Just sat there in silence, nothing more than a comforting presence, a wall between you and the harsh outside world.

Voices, angry and betrayed, rang from the hallway where the drivers' rooms stood. Someone passed by and whispered that Seokmin and Seungcheol were arguing. You forced yourself to ignore it even as their words became loud enough to be legible.

"If you cared for her half as much as you claimed you did when you got down on one knee, you'd put a stop to this and tell them to leave her alone! Haven't you hurt her enough?!" Seokmin.

Seungcheol didn't hesitate to reply, "She hurt me first!"

"So what?! You're getting even now?" Seokmin's laugh was boisterous, venomous. The type that made someone's blood freeze in their veins. "By spreading rumours and sending the press to hunt her down like your little bloodhounds?"

"How I get even is not your business!"

You got up and walked out; you couldn't stand to listen any longer. Yuki followed in silence, no doubt glaring at anyone daring to even look your way. It would explain the quiet that surrounded you now.

"It'll pass," he told you when you made it to the track.

Walking further and further from the paddock, you hoped he was right.

[SINGAPORE 2024]

"Alright," Seokmin's cheerful voice echoed between the paddock buildings, his eyes trained on the phone camera in your hand, "qualifying — done. It was fun. Starting from P5… I probably could've done better, but…"

As his gaze caught yours over the edge of the screen, he trailed off, his smile dropping. Head tilting on instinct, he rushed closer and asked, "You okay?"

Startled by the sudden interruption to your usual workflow, you blinked at him, wide-eyed like an owl. "Yeah? Why?"

You must not have been very convincing because his eyes narrowed. Without even acknowledging it, he took the phone from your hand and lowered it. There was no place to hide now.

"You seem down."

To be fair, you doubted anyone would have a good day after having to film TikToks with their spiteful ex after an intern called in sick. Or after having another group of said ex's fans follow them around, begging for answers. You were just unlucky enough to experience both in close succession in the span of this one short day. Frankly, you were exhausted and the humid heat of Singapore was doing you no favours.

You could've told him exactly that — he wouldn't have judged, you knew he wouldn't have. But still you kept your problems to yourself and faked a smile.

"It's fine," you told him and made a point to look down at the phone. Deleting a messed-up video clip was a good enough excuse to avoid looking in his eyes and getting stripped bare of your defences.

Then, as if you couldn't help yourself, as if a part of your subconscious was fighting back and needy for comfort, you added on in a mumble, "Not all days can be good days anyway."

Seokmin made a loud noise of disapproval. "I knew there was something off!"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "Seokmin—"

"It's okay," he interrupted, and there was a smile threatening to break out on his face. It looked more conspiratorial than sympathetic. "I'll just have to make your day better."

"Seokmin—" you tried again.

He was simply not listening. "You know, there's a nice restaurant I've been meaning to visit here. We should go—"

"Seokmin, my bad days are not your responsibility!" you cut him off, sharper and harsher than you had intended to. Your eyes squeezed shut at your error — you hadn't meant to snap at him. Counting to five, you prepared to meet his eyes again, certain they'd be full of hurt and fear.

With a deep, calming breath, you opened your eyes again. He was looking at you still, his smile a little less bright, but his eyes still overflowing with that familiar sweet warmth.

"You're right," he told you, voice low and soft as if he was sharing a secret he inexplicably was fond of, and leaned close. You could've sworn his nose touched yours, but before you could focus on that, he continued, "Your bad days are not my responsibility. But that doesn't mean I won't try to fix them. You want to know why?"

"Why?" you breathed out after a pause of thought.

There was a shiver up your spine that you hadn't felt in months — so familiar but so foreign at the same time. A feeling you had once cherished in the arms of Seungcheol.

He smiled wider. "Because I care about you."

Something about the stars in his eyes said it was about more than that.

With a sudden movement, almost a flinch, he leaned back. It was as if he hadn't realised how close you were until this moment, as if he'd pressed so close to you subconsciously. He cleared his throat and glanced away, smiling at Lando Norris passing by, congratulated him for getting pole.

You were left wondering, pondering the meaning of his words. Caring about someone suddenly felt like the most vague phrase anyone's ever uttered. Your mind swirled with meanings and definitions and hopes and fears.

He turned to you again. "You're staying at the same hotel as us, right?"

Too lost in your thoughts, you could only nod.

He mirrored your action, the corners of his lips quirking a bit as he did so. His hands busied themselves with adjusting his dark blue racing suit; his eyes wandered around the paddock, almost like they were avoiding your gaze. His voice didn't waver but it felt like it should have as he spoke, "I'll meet you in the lobby at eight. Wear something nice but comfy, okay?"

You wanted to ask questions. You had so many flooding your mind.

But he ran his fingers through his dark hair and nodded towards the phone in your hand. "We should probably do another take of that recap. I messed it up a bit, I think."

He treated it all with such nonchalance that for a while you wondered if it had been a joke. Maybe a vivid hallucination. With the year you were having, you wouldn't have put it past yourself to imagine something so seemingly impossible.

You battled these doubts when you walked into your hotel room and removed your work uniform. You continued doing so as you picked out an outfit for the evening, just in case it was real. They didn't escape your mind as you did your make-up and checked your phone for the fiftieth time.

Unwanted memories of similar scenarios restricted your cautious excitement. They were memories of Seungcheol telling you to dress pretty, that he'd pick you up at seven, that he was excited to show you the world. They were memories of standing in hotel lobbies, dressed to impress no one because you waited for hours, all alone under the pitying stares of the receptionists. They were memories of half-hearted 'I'm so sorry I forgot; I'll make it up to you, I swear' texts at 2 am. You feared you'd be played for a fool again this time.

But Seokmin was waiting in the lobby when you finally found the courage to go down and see. A part of you wondered if he'd had the exact same doubts; his chest heaved with visible relief when you met his eyes, and it seemed to do the same every time he looked at you across the table at the restaurant. It was as if he couldn't believe you were really there with him.

His eyes kept wandering to you every few minutes even after you'd eaten dinner, even when you were walking in the Gardens by the Bay and the pretty lights and plants should've had all of his attention. You couldn't remember the last time someone had made you feel like you were their sole focus. It made you nervous but excited all the same.

"So," you started between bites of ice cream, desperate for a distraction from the nagging fluttery feeling in your tummy, "only seven races left. Excited for next season yet? I hear Red Bull's coming out with an even faster car."

"Honestly?" Thinking about it, he hummed around the spoon sticking out of his mouth. He lowered the spoon into his plastic cup. "I'm terrified for next season."

That wasn't the answer you'd been expecting.

"Why?" you wondered.

He shrugged and lowered his eyes, staring at his dessert as if it had all the answers of the universe and he wasn't ready to hear them yet. "I don't know if I'll race next year. Maybe my time in Formula 1 is over."

Your jaw dropped at its own accord. Your feet froze on the ground, unable to take another step. He stopped a few steps ahead of you, smiling sadly like he could read your mind and knew exactly the words you wanted to scream at him.

"Why would you say that?" you croaked. Your voice wavered and broke, shock evident in every syllable. "Seokmin, what are you saying?"

"Red Bull's terminating my contract early," he told you like it was no big deal. Maybe he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you. "Either I find another team to sign or I leave the sport."

It didn't make any sense in your head: Lee Seokmin was a racer. He'd been on the grid since he was barely twenty. He was fast and vicious on track, stood on the podium more often than not since his second year. If there was anyone that was built for this, it was him.

"Why would they terminate your contract?"

He laughed, head thrown back to stare into the sky, but there was no joy in his voice. "Who knows? Maybe I've lost my spark. Maybe Seungcheol said something to the team principal. Either way, I'm leaving." He sighed. "But honestly? I don't think I would've wanted to stay either way."

You found yourself humming in agreement.

"My contract's ending soon too," you told him. "I don't think I'd return to Red Bull even if they doubled my pay."

He tore his gaze from the sky and looked at you. He didn't even bother to fake a smile this time. "Because of Seungcheol?"

"I can't stand to be in the same room as him anymore," you confessed. "Especially when he's the one that got me this job."

Without another word, he walked closer. You felt his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest as if to hide you from the world and give you the space you so clearly needed. If you cried at all, the tears soaked into his T-shirt before they could fall. You needed this — how he knew was beyond you.

"Where will you go?" he asked some minutes later, his voice muffled against your skin.

"Where will you?" you replied.

Seokmin laughed at that.

"Well, wherever you go, I hope it'll make you happy." He paused. Then his voice softened. "I was supposed to cheer you up tonight and instead I made both of us sad. Sorry."

"It's okay," you told him. "Thank you, for caring about me."

He squeezed you tighter like a playful threat. "Don't thank me for silly things. Just enjoy it instead."

[AUSTIN 2024]

Seungcheol's press officer called in sick. You tried hard not to feel bitter about it. It wasn't her fault — how was she supposed to know the sushi had gone bad? But a part of you still couldn't help but imagine texting her some choice words because she had inadvertently brought forth your newest, worst nightmare: filling in for her at the post-race interviews.

When the reality settled in, you'd tried to find someone else to do the job but it seemed there was no way out for you, short of bribing the team principal. You didn't have that kind of cash, so you gritted your teeth and squeezed the company-issued phone a little tighter than necessary while following him around.

He didn't even spare you a glance. The indifference he was displaying seemed almost believable. It was his words that gave him away.

"Yeah, the race was tough," Seungcheol told the press while adjusting his hat until it was backwards on his head. You could've sworn he did that on purpose — there had been a time when you'd thought he looked handsome when he wore his hat this way, you were sure you had told him so. Now he mocked you for it. "The grid is tight this year, hard to hold our own. But our car's incredible. Our team worked so hard. It's thanks to them that I won today."

Somewhere behind you, you heard a familiar scoff of laughter. You glanced back to find Seokmin standing there, his own press officer in tow, eyes narrowed as he listened to his team mate's interview. His eyes met yours and his smile dropped. He knew what was coming.

"You had an incident in turn 3 with your team mate. Do you think it was just a gamble to win, or did it have anything to do with the pictures from Singapore? Of your ex and Seokmin?" the journalist asked and it took everything to keep your jaw from dropping.

Suddenly, reality hit. You weren't just replacing the press officer. This wasn't just an interview. It was a humiliation ritual, whether these two men realised it or not.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Seokmin's jaw clench as the words hit him as well. His press officer pressed his hand against his chest to keep him from rushing over and starting a fight. You weren't sure how long he'd last with the way Seokmin's hands were clenching at his sides.

You watched Seungcheol, eyes begging him. This was the part where Seungcheol was supposed to laugh and shrug and say his team mate's doing the best he can. This was the part where he was supposed to tell the journalist to ask Seokmin and walk away. He did neither.

"I mean, it's Seokmin." His eyes glinted with something vicious as he spoke, "He's always behind me on the track, on the grid— Hell, even his racing number's right behind mine! Of course he'd want my leftovers."

"Are you insane?!" the driver behind you blurted.

His press officer could only mumble frantic apologies as Seokmin walked over and glared at both Seungcheol and the journalist. The latter's eyes widened, his face paled as he realised what he'd just unleashed. Seungcheol didn't even blink, the same bored, cruel look in his eyes.

"If you dislike me that much, just say it to my face! Don't drag her into this!" Seokmin demanded, face reddening as anger took him over.

You slipped away as tension grew and their voices grew louder. For sure, there were penalties waiting to be filed their way — fines for swearing on camera, grid drops for unsportsmanlike behaviour. You wanted nothing to do with any of it. You'd already had your share of suffering and insults.

[are you okay?]

[where did you go?]

Your phone vibrated with messages some half an hour later. You didn't bother to reply; finally hidden away in your own little sanctuary. It was a small corner of the paddock, somewhere behind the McLaren hospitality: peaceful, far removed from the noise of the crowd. The only person you'd seen in the past fifteen minutes was Oscar Piastri, deeply engrossed in a phone call but he'd only offered you a small smile as he passed by.

This was exactly the place you needed to be to calm down and hide. You needed to get your mind straight, to untangle the wires of hurt feelings and destroyed pride. You needed to get away from Seungcheol. It was only ironic that the place furthest from him was the very place he'd shown you just last year. Now you wondered how you could get further away from him still.

Your contract would come to an end in a few months anyway. What could stop you from just calling it quits right here, right now? Could your shaking fingers type out a letter of resignation and email it to the team principal before the day's end? You weren't sure you had any other options now that Seungcheol had really crossed the line.

The phone vibrated once again. Begrudgingly, you clicked on the power button. The screen lit up, four text messages and a new email on display. It was a reminder that the world did not care for your hurt — it simply moved on, business as usual.

[seungcheol was wrong to say what he did, you know, right?]

You couldn't type a reply with his words, Seungcheol's wicked glare still twisting around in your head. Swiping away the messages, you tapped on the email by accident. It unfolded before your eyes and your breath got caught when you read it.

As if answering your prayers, the email revealed a job offer — 'Williams Racing needs a new social media manager', it said. 'Considering your prior work experience and the quality of it … at first opportunity … drivers excited to work with you'.

This was it, you realised with a sharp intake of air. This was your chance to get away, handed to you on a gold platter. You didn't hesitate to tell them yes.

Your letter of resignation landed in your supervisor's inbox before the team got the tyres off the cars.

[MEXICO CITY 2024]

"You finished P15 today, your worst result yet this season. What happened?"

Seokmin grimaced visibly in front of the cameras, his nose scrunching up as he struggled to answer. "The pace just wasn't there today, I guess."

"You made a few errors on track, especially in turn six, where you kept going wide, and compared to your brilliant performance here last year, I just wonder if there is some kind of a psychological component to your result today?"

"Could be." He adjusted his hat, lips twisting into a sad smile. "I'm just human like everyone else."

"We did hear your team's former social media manager resigned from her position last week, effective immediately. We've heard you're quite close with her. Is she the reason—?"

"I think that's quite enough questions," Seokmin interrupted with a defiant nod. He walked off without another word, only his back visible to the camera.

[LAS VEGAS 2024]

It was almost funny how fast you became a nobody.

When you walked into the paddock for the first time in two weeks, you expected the journalists to go crazy. You could just about imagine the headlines: "Choi Seungcheol's ex switched teams after dramatic fall-out with fiancé!".

You took a deep, calming breath before swiping your paddock pass, preparing for a frenzy and no one to defend you. Your hands shaking, you swiped the pass, everything unsteady about the familiar flick of your wrist. The lights flashed green and you walked through, knees wobbly as you took three steps.

No one batted an eye. No one as much as glanced your way. Gone were the judgmental fangirls of your ex, the compassionate smiles of the few drivers that cared, the journalists asking a thousand questions you had no answer for. It was as if just by changing your Red Bull team kit for a Williams one, you had become someone new.

If you'd known it was this easy, you would have switched teams months ago.

You embraced the peace, the first of it you'd had since your break-up back in June. Fans and journalists walked past the Williams' hospitality like you weren't even a dot on their radar, like you didn't exist. Only a few of the drivers recognised you, doing double-takes as they rushed past, offering simple smiles when they made eye contact. A part of you wondered if you'd gone back in time to your first days of work all those years ago.

"Just out of curiosity," Alex — one of your team's drivers — spoke, leaning back against the door as he surveyed the paddock, "does your old team know you're with Williams now?"

Contemplating for a moment, you shrugged. "Maybe?"

His eyebrows rose, teasing. "Well, then they're about to find out. Ten bucks says Seokmin will do a double-take."

"Enough with the double-takes," you joked and adjusted your laptop screen, the glare of the sunlight reflecting off it and offending your eyes. "I swear Charles almost fell over when he recognised me."

"If he asks about you, I'll tell him I have no idea who he's talking about," he offered a little too readily before bursting into laughter. "Yeah, that'll fuck him up good."

"You're impossible."

He completely ignored your protests. Leaning forward, hands on his knees, eyes locked on something in the distance like his favourite game was about to start and he had placed the bet of a lifetime, Alex began commentating, "He's walking this way. He's got a Red Bull and he's frowning like he wanted whiskey instead. "

"Who is?"

"Lee Seokmin approaches—" That explained it. "He's walking fast; he might be late to the press conference. Oh! His eyes moved. Did he look this way? I think he might have."

"You think he'll recognise me?" you wondered. It was hard to decide if you wanted him to.

Alex scoffed. "If he doesn't, I'll make him." You weren't entirely sure you liked the sound of that threat. "Oh! He's coming this way. He's looking right at us. He's waving at me. He's looking at you—"

Your name sounded like a call from home. It was all affection and warmth and joy. Seokmin repeated it like it was holy, like it was a prayer he'd been keeping for better days.

His Red Bull scattered to the ground and broke his daze. With hurried movements, he stammered out an apology and picked up the now half-empty can before all but running over. For a moment, you worried he'd trip and fall over the cords, or maybe he'd be unable to slow down in time. He proved your worries futile and came to a perfect stop right in front of you, towering over your sitting form.

He smiled wide and you could've sworn it was brighter than the damned Las Vegas sun. Your name came out in one more elated breath.

"You're back!" he spoke as if it was a miracle. "You're really back!"

Without a second of hesitation, he placed his Red Bull down and pulled you up into a tight hug. His breath was warm against your neck, his hands even warmer around your back, squeezing you close as if you'd disappear if he gave you any space to do so.

"Well, I wasn't about to give up my whole career just because Seungcheol is an asshole," you told him, and a warm hum filled your chest at the reverent look on his face. A realisation hit you, it rattled your world — you liked being recognised if it was him. Hell, you thought, you would've been heartbroken if he hadn't.

"Good. He's not worth it anyway," he told you. His hands seemed unable to leave the fabric of your shirt, unwilling to let you go just yet. He glanced down at the fabric, at the bold white logo on your chest. He chuckled. "It'll take some getting used to. It's a different blue."

You shrugged. "Well, I like this blue."

"I think I like it too," he told you softly. Something in the tone of his voice said there was more to those words. You didn't pry. His eyes lit up once more, his smile brightened. "Have you eaten yet?"

"I—"

"All she's had today is a granola bar and way too much coffee," Alex interrupted, reminding you of his presence with a teasing smirk. "Here's an idea!"

"Don't even—" you started but were beaten once again.

"Seokmin, you should get her some lunch! You know, some proper food."

You sighed. "Seokmin, you don't have to—"

"We'll bring you something back too," Seokmin readily told the other driver and grabbed your arm. Too baffled to protest, you let him practically drag you away. "Is pizza okay? The one they sell here is heavenly."

You couldn't help but laugh. "It's perfectly fine."

"Good, because I've been craving it all week," he told you solemnly once you reached the Italian food stand. "You liked yours without olives, right?"

Had you told him that? You couldn't remember. He rattled off an order to the employee, always wearing that wide, friendly smile of his. No matter how many times you tried to tear your gaze away, it always returned to him. A hollow thump of your heart and you made a second realisation of the day, one you couldn't help but question.

Was it possible to have missed someone so much when it had only been a month?

"Why Williams?" was the first thing he asked once you found a place to sit. "Surely any team here would have been happy to take you."

You shrugged. "They were the first ones to reach out. I actually got the email back in Austin, after that… interview."

His face fell at the reminder. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, unwittingly pulling your attention to it. You spotted a fading bruise right in the crook of his neck. The sight and implications made your heart ache horribly.

"He shouldn't have said those things," Seokmin repeated the words he'd texted you back then. "I wished I'd driven him off the track just for thinking that."

"Did you get in a fight with him?" you asked the question itching in your throat.

"I did." It didn't surprise you. You'd suspected as much all month, ever since you saw the fire in his eyes when those words slipped off of Seungcheol's tongue. "And I'd do it again."

"He's your teammate, Seokmin," you reminded him with a sigh. "You're not supposed to fight him, not over a girl anyway."

"But you're not just a girl."

You weren't sure the world saw it that way. "If you'll keep acting this way, Red Bull will find a new driver for next season. Someone Seungcheol gets along with."

"Let them," he told you, and it infuriated you how carelessly he did so, how ready he was to burn that bridge of no return, uncaring of his future. "They want me out either way. I told you already: they want me gone."

Right. Your eyes squeezed shut at the memory. He'd told you back in Singapore, hadn't he? He'd poured his heart out to you in the gardens, and you hadn't even responded to his texts before resigning from your job a month later.

"Then where will you go?" you asked once again, but there was none of that sadness you'd felt the last time you spoke that thought.

There was only desperation now that you could finally see it all clearly again. Without Seungcheol on your side, you only had one person who kept you sane in the chaos — you would have done anything for him not to leave.

Seokmin didn't seem sad either. He didn't seem desperate, not even defeated. Something like hope glinted in his eyes, a new promise he was keen to keep to himself for now, as if he wouldn't be able to make it come true if he told you now.

"I've gotten a few offers from the teams," he told you and it felt like only half the truth. The glint in his eyes was full of life, of newfound joy as he added, "But I think I've made up my mind."

You only found out what he meant two weeks later from a news headline:

'SEOKMIN LEE SET TO JOIN ALEX ALBON IN WILLIAMS RACING FOR THE 2025 SEASON'

Not daring to even breathe while you processed the information, you scrolled through the article, afraid it would somehow become untrue if you checked elsewhere. You just sat there in your hotel bed and waited.

Your phone rang with a new text message five minutes later, Seokmin's contact name somehow bolder and brighter than usual.

[told you i liked that blue]

You breathed out in relief and finally dared to smile.

[MELBOURNE 2025]

Being with Seungcheol must have blinded you — it was a realisation you now made as the paddock came to life once again, officially opening the 2025 season. There was no other way you'd otherwise been oblivious of the absolute beauty that was Seokmin.

Ready to take on the new season, he pulled on his brand-new white and blue racing suit. It looked like it had been designed with him in mind, with each and every curve of his body, with the very undertones of his skin. The carefree smile he wore only served to make him look more radiant. Suddenly, you couldn't even remember what he'd looked like in the Red Bull suit.

You watched him from the back of the garage, leaning against a wall with your phone in hand, filming the very first race weekend day of your team's newest member. The camera didn't do him justice, you thought while glancing between him and the phone.

"You're staring," he pointed out with a nervous chuckle when he finally found the time to come over to you. "Does it look that bad?"

There was an overwhelming urge to fight whoever had planted that idea in his head. "You look like you belong here, with this team. It really suits you."

"Yeah?" He smiled a little brighter. With a glance back towards the car — the brand new blue Williams, his number 9 proud on display, polished by the mechanics to make it stand out even more —, he took a wavering breath. "Do you think I'll do well? I mean," he stammered and ran a hand through his hair, "I know it's only practice today, but—"

"You've been driving Formula 1 cars for seven years, Seokmin," you reminded him with a gentle smile and fought the need to fix the mess of hair on his head. "You've been on podiums more often than not." He already looked like he wanted to argue but you left no room for that. "You'll do perfectly fine today, and tomorrow, and especially on Sunday. You're going to get in that car, and you're going to feel right at home with your new race engineer. And on Sunday, you'll come back to me and we'll film a silly TikTok to celebrate your first podium with Williams."

His eyes narrowed but the smile remained. "You dream big."

"One of us has to," you joked and finally gave in to the itch you'd been fighting, lifting your hand to smooth down the dark strands he'd messed up. "Why are you so nervous?"

He hesitated to answer. Or perhaps he was too lost in the moment to remember to.

His race engineer called out — only three minutes until the session would start.

"I've only driven for Red Bull before," Seokmin told you softly. "I don't know what it's like to drive for another team."

You wanted to scoff. "That's a lie."

"It's true," he argued but his defensive tone told you it was anything but.

Your eyebrows rose, disbelieving, daring him to lie again.

The man in front of you rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's half-true."

"That's better."

"I've never had anyone actually cheering for me from the sidelines," he finally confessed after a moment of thought, his smile fading. He was baring his heart for you. "But this time you're here, on my side of the garage, looking at me like I've already won the race when I'm not even sure I can pull this car out of the garage without stalling."

Confusion muddled your thoughts but he didn't say anything more. "Why does it matter?"

"Because…" He hesitated once again, eyes drifting away, focusing on anything that wasn't you. "Because I don't want to let you down."

"You could never," you told him and you meant every syllable. You hoped he felt your sincerity in the way you fixed his hair once more or in how you adjusted the collar of his fireproofs. You met his eyes once more. "Are you planning on crashing into a wall today?"

"… No."

"Then you won't let me down," you repeated yourself and his smile found its way back, lighting up the room. "So don't worry about that and just drive, okay?"

"Can I…" he started, fingers reaching for the comforting weight of yours still on his shoulder. "Can I ask for a dumb favour?"

You lifted a single eyebrow and grinned. "Do you want me to sabotage the new Red Bull rookie's car?" He snorted out a laugh and you joined him. "Because I don't think I have the clearance for that."

"No, I—" He laughed harder as if he could imagine it clearer by the second. "Why would I ask you to do that?"

"To really show Red Bull what they're missing," you told him. "Even though everybody here knows you're better than the new kid."

"Right," he joked. The race engineer called out again — one minute to go. Seokmin straightened his shoulders as if the action alone would fill him with courage. His voice remained tender as he asked, "Do you think you could wear my number for the race? Just on a t-shirt or something." He swallowed and scratched the back of his neck. "It would make me less nervous, I think."

Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. "You want me to?"

"I mean, you don't have to but I just thought—"

You chuckled to hide the noise your heart was making. It hadn't been so loud and insistent and excited in years. "I'm not sure if Alex would approve of me picking favourites," you glanced across the garage to where the other driver was already climbing into his car, "but I'll see what I can do."

Seokmin looked as if you'd told him you'd bring him the entire galaxy and some more. "I'd like that."

It was hard to remember the last time you'd felt so nervous watching a race. Maybe seeing Seungcheol fight for the podium nearly every weekend had made you numb to the fierce midfield competition, or perhaps you had turned a blind eye to it all at some point. But this time it was like you were watching a race for the first time ever.

Your heart was drumming in your chest; it was far from the steady rhythm of a metronome. It matched the revs of the engines and the rumble of gravel getting pushed off-track: unsteady, chaotic, loud. You could hardly breathe, hands clutched against your chest, eyes glued to the leaderboard.

Seokmin hadn't qualified very high. It was to be expected: a new car, a new team, a new type of pressure. He'd pushed the engine to P17 before it gave up on him last night. Now you watched the three letters of his last name steadily climb, closing the time gaps to other drivers despite the track conditions.

When they were preparing to go out on track, you heard his race engineer tell him the priority was not to get to points but to stay on the track. Wet races always had a risk factor and the team couldn't afford to make an error this early into the season. But Seokmin was proving himself to be the overachiever you always knew he was.

No less than a third of the grid had already retired their cars, due to technical failures, due to racing incidents that could've ended horribly. Seokmin remained on the track, P14, only five laps to go. You didn't bother to check who was in front of him — one of the Haas cars, slow and steady compared to the top runners on this day —, all you could focus on was the time gap.

Barely two seconds between the two cars. You heard his race engineer tell him to push harder, to overtake. You echoed the sentiment silently, barely conscious of the prayers you were whispering while the timing screen demanded your attention.

One second to the Haas car. Seokmin was steadily closing the gap. Your palms hurt from how hard you were squeezing them with your nails. It served to keep you alert and focused amid the loud, excited whispers around the garage.

Less than half a second of a gap. Two laps to go. It was now or never. He just had to find a place to overtake, a corner where the other driver was prone to mistakes. There had to be some place to pass that car.

The TV producers seemed to finally catch wind of the fierce battle. Finally, you saw Seokmin's blue car take the outside line, ready to do the very thing you and his race engineer had been begging him to for the past fifteen minutes. Breath caught in your throat, you watched as a Seokmin pushed the car past its limits just long enough to pass the Haas.

The timing screen swiftly switched around: '13 LEE' it read and you almost jumped with joy.

When the race ended a few minutes later, you were the first one to run to Seokmin. He'd just removed his helmet, hair a right sweaty mess under it all, his breath heavy from exertion. Exhaustion was evident in his every movement.

His eyes caught yours and the circuit lit up with his bright smile. It was still tired, full of evidence of his hard work, but it was warm and joyful and yours.

"P17 to P13 isn't too bad a drive," you told him, matching his grin. "And look at that! You didn't break the car!"

He let out a short laugh, not quite recovered yet for a full one. "I came close though. Turn 3, lap—" He paused and thought about it, brows furrowing as he stared up at the sky for answers. Finally, he shrugged, "—something in the 20s? Lap 23 maybe?"

His gaze lowered back to you. There was a sense of appreciation in the fondness of his eyes, something like gentle disbelief. Then his eyes widened just a bit, his brows quirked upwards in surprise. You made it a point to stay still while he approached you, his right hand lifting to tug on the lower hem of your new blue jacket.

"That's my number," he pointed out, nothing short of reverent. His smile grew wider. "I thought they didn't sell Williams' jackets with my number yet?"

"They don't," you told him and you couldn't help but feel incredibly proud of yourself. "But someone on the design team owed me a favour."

Seokmin's laughter filled the space, loud and demanding the attention of everyone passing by. He didn't seem to care for the eyes that glanced his way. He didn't seem to even notice the cameras flashing when he reached for you. You didn't have time to remind him with the way he pulled you into his arms, lifted you off the ground, and spun you around in three neat circles, nothing but cheers and laughter filling your ears.

When he lowered you back down, you were both out of breath and smiling like fools. In the midst of your sudden dizzy spell, you could've sworn his gaze flickered to your lips. It lasted less than a second before he was giggling and grinning all over again.

"Thank you," he finally told you, fingers just barely brushing over the proud yellow number 9 on your jacket. "This means everything."

Somehow, you had a feeling he meant every word.

[SHANGHAI 2025]

The garage burst into loud cheers, mechanics and analysts alike hugging each other like they'd just won the race. You knew that P7 and P8 were a long way off from podium positions, but that didn't put a damper on anyone's joy. It was the team's first double points of the season and it deserved nothing short of a celebration.

Just like the week before, you ran out to congratulate him, a wide smile on your face. You just about jumped into his arms on instinct. With a quiet huff of exertion and laughter, he caught you, arms wrapped tight around your waist.

"P7!" you practically screamed, unable to wipe the grin off your face. "You got points! In a Williams!"

Seokmin's arms reluctantly abandoned their place on your back to fix his hair. He pushed it off his forehead, only a few stray strands left behind. His smile was blinding. "Guess I've still got it."

"Did anyone even really think you lost it?" Alex wondered, having found a comfortable spot near the two of you. You half-remembered to give him a congratulatory hug as well, patting him on the back a little harder than necessary when he gave you a funny look for it.

"Good job, both of you," you told them like the team player you were. Even though the number 9 stood bright and proud on your jacket and on the brim of your hat, betraying your clear bias. "I'm proud of you."

"A little prouder of one than the other, I think." Alex punctuated his mumbled comment with a teasing scoff and a big sip of his water, eyes flitting about the paddock as he did so. You made a mental note to make his post-race social media duties more unbearable than usual, and you mentally double highlighted the note when his eyes caught yours again and a wicked grin appeared. "So, Williams' Lovebirds, huh? The two of you have something to share with the class?"

It took everything in you not to roll your eyes.

The new nickname had appeared from the depths of social media after the race last week, accompanying photos and videos of the hug you'd shared. Photos and videos that made the innocent action look far more intimate than you had dared to believe. Even this morning, your mentions had been full of ship names and edits of moments you'd shared in the background of so many TikToks without ever realising. It was almost enough to make you believe there was something there.

You glanced at Seokmin, watched the way his eyes lit up when you made eye contact. Perhaps you wanted to believe there was something there, after all.

"Yeah, you got something to share?" an all-too-familiar low voice interrupted the friendly atmosphere. You felt the vibrations of his voice before you heard his words; your entire body flinched like you'd been hit with a bucket of ice water.

Seungcheol stood right in front of you, dark blue racing suit half-zipped, hanging off his hips in a way that would've made you weak at the knees this time last year. Even now, you had to admit he looked deadly in Red Bull colours, especially with his arms crossed over his broad chest, muscles flexing under the skin-tight white fireproofs.

You frowned and reminded yourself that this was no longer the man you had once fallen in love with. As far as your heart was concerned, you didn't know this man any more than you knew any of the rookies on this grid.

"What are you doing here, Seungcheol?" you asked him, forcing your voice to stay as level as it could. A waver in the tone felt like it would have been an admission of guilt you had no part in.

His brown eyes glinted with something dangerous. "I came to congratulate my old team mate on his first points in a new team." He turned to Seokmin, forced a smile that looked more like a snarl to anyone who knew him. "Congrats, friend."

Seokmin, bless his heart, wore a much more comfortable expression, even if his eyes burned with barely restrained annoyance. "And congratulations on P2. Glad to see you're still on your podium streak."

"I'm sure you wish yours had continued."

"I'll work my way back, don't worry."

"Coming for what's mine again?" Seungcheol maintained his smile. His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the fabric of his shirt. "I won't make it easy this time."

Seokmin's brows rose. His fingers fidgeted, curled and uncurled like they were contemplating their next action. "When have you ever made it easy?"

You thought he might hit him when Seungcheol's lips quirked into a smirk, venomous and all-knowing, eyes flitting to yours just long enough to mean something. "This one was pretty easy, was it not?"

Your hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged him away with a strength you hadn't thought you possessed. Glaring daggers at him, you said, "Get over yourself, Seungcheol. What happened between us had nothing to do with him."

"Yeah?" Seungcheol challenged, glancing back to see Seokmin looking like he might follow, barely held back by Alex and a mechanic. "That's odd because he sure seems involved for someone who has nothing to do with this."

"He's my friend!" you argued. The urge to tug your — and maybe his as well — hair out was growing by the minute. "Why can't you just grow up and accept that we're over? Why are you so goddamn spiteful? Just leave us be!"

He laughed, low in his throat, no humour in it. "That's rich coming from you. You broke up with me in front of my team, humiliated me, broke my heart. And then you ran into his waiting arms before my tears could even dry!"

"Then take it out on me instead of targeting him," you demanded with a frown, your ears ringing with anger at the sheer audacity of his words.

"He's not some innocent goody-two-shoes either, you know?" He laughed once more. "That— That weasel has been looking at you like you're the trophy since the first day he stepped into the hospitality. I saw it, watched it with my own two eyes — how he followed you around, volunteered for all those dumb videos just to spend more time with you, laughed at all of your jokes, practically begged for recognition every time he made it into points.

"You both might have gotten what you wanted," he spoke lowly, leaning closer so only you could hear his words, "but I sure as hell won't make it easy for you."

"You're an asshole," was all you could find the strength to say. Frankly, spitting on him would not have been enough to show your rage. You spun on your heels and marched away from him, back to where you belonged, right by Seokmin's side.

His hand reached for you immediately, landing on the side of your arm. "Are you okay? What did he say?"

"It's nothing," you lied and forced a smile. "It'll be fine. We should be celebrating, not fighting Seungcheol tonight."

Alex glanced back at the Red Bull driver, a single brow rising in disbelief. "Doesn't seem like nothing. He looks like he wants to burn our hospitality down."

"He could use the jail time for arson," you joked under your breath. "But whatever."

Seokmin nodded along, the corners of his lips lifting. "It was just some good old trash talk between rivals. You know how it goes."

"Maybe you two should just date for real," the other driver started again. "Give him something to actually be upset about."

The comment took you off guard. You blinked at Seokmin, expecting him to react with similar confusion and shock, maybe even a boisterous laugh. He was glaring backwards at Seungcheol's retreating figure, a dangerous spark threatening to turn into real flames in his usually warm eyes.

That should have been the first sign that he wouldn't just leave it be.

[SUZUKA 2025]

Rumours of the newly dubbed Williams' Lovebirds only got bigger with every passing day. The week-long break between Shanghai and Suzuka only seemed to intensify them; fans fuelled by boredom made edit after edit of moments you hadn't dared to give a second thought to.

They proudly showcased all the times Seokmin had looked at you, on the other side of the camera lens, with something unfamiliar in his eyes, a gentle smile on his face, an airy glow to his expression. It was something you hadn't been able to put a name to — 'adoration' all of the fans agreed.

They pointed out the number 9 you wore on your jacket, the bright smile you hadn't realised the broadcast cameras had caught when Seokmin crossed the finish line. And you could hardly count the edits of your two hugs this season, set to romantic songs you had never heard before.

They flooded your social media channels, all of your mentions, all of your emotional space with videos comparing your ex-fiancé and a man you hadn't realised you saw as more than a friend.

'I'm glad she's with Seokmin now; she deserves better," a comment read, liked by a thousand users. You were starting to realise you agreed.

When you stepped onto the paddock on Thursday, you knew you weren't the only one unable to escape them. You were acutely aware of the accusatory glare Seungcheol sent your way when you passed him in front of the Red Bull hospitality.

That should have been the second red sign that a clash was inevitable. Without realising it, the fans had opened the floodgates of tension all over again, and there was no stopping it now. All you could do was pray they wouldn't take it out on each other on the track.

“Fighting for 3rd place, Lee is closing in on Choi. The two former teammates are in a battle for the podium with only fifteen laps to go.”

You couldn’t help but lean towards the screen, breath caught in your throat. This is the closest they’d been all season. 

“Lee takes the outside. No use. Choi shows his mastery of defending and keeps his place.”

“Come on, Seokmin,” you found yourself whispering into your fist. Your fingers were starting to hurt from how hard you were clenching them together, but you couldn’t have cared less. 

“But Lee isn’t about to give up, is he? He’s pushing again, pedal to the metal. If he plays his cards right, he could overtake at the next turn and we could see the first Williams podium since 2021 right here in Suzuka.”

A cursory glance around the room told you the other team members were watching with similar bated breaths, fingers crossed, palms pressed over their mouths as if a single loud breath could blow away Seokmin’s chances of getting on the podium. 

A collective gasp echoed through the room. Your head snapped to face the screen again. Mouth falling agape, you stared as the graphics declared safety car conditions. 

The room filled with shocked chatter, loud enough to drown out the race audio. You couldn’t figure out what had happened but somehow you knew the exact answer. You begged your gut to be wrong.

One by one, the cars fell in line behind the green vehicle. You quietly counted them, the camera clearly more focused on the parade of racing cars than on the aftermath of whatever had happened. Two orange McLarens, a black Mercedes, two red Ferraris… No Red Bull, no Williams in the top 10. Your heart dropped. 

The chatter fell away and you could hear the commentary again, confirming your suspicions. 

“Both drivers are out safely, but that was one hell of a crash. I don’t suppose either team is particularly happy about this result. So close to P3 and now neither Lee nor Choi will get to see the podium today.”

You felt your eyes fill with tears — of fear? worry? anger? you weren’t sure yet – while they replayed the crash from three different angles. In slow motion, Seokmin’s Williams got wheel-to-wheel with Seungcheol’s Red Bull, pushing and pushing. For a moment, you thought Seokmin was going to pass him and take P3. 

Then he turned his wheel to the right. Just the smallest amount, just for half a second. The cars met, tyres crashing together, debris flying across the track as they spun across the grass, far off the asphalt. Two third-place contenders stood in the green background, suspensions snapped, tyres flat on the ground, dust still floating in the distance. It’s a miracle neither of them flipped.

“Lee is a seasoned driver. He doesn’t mistake his left and right. I fear the reality is that he wanted to push Choi off the track. Whether he expected to go off-track with him or not is an entirely other question.”

“But that’s the thing: Lee is not a particularly aggressive driver. He’s never been in a racing incident like this before. Could it have been a mistake? An overcorrection leading to a crash?”

“Either way, that is no doubt going to be a hefty penalty for Lee.”

You didn’t bother to listen any longer. Gathering up your things, you stomped out and right to his driver’s room. 

He appeared some fifteen minutes later, hair a mess like it always was, racing suit half-unzipped and hanging off his hips, revealing the white fireproofs underneath. His mouth opened, no doubt ready to spew excuses, the moment he noticed you sitting on his chair. 

You silenced him with a glare and demanded, “What the hell was that?”

“An incident,” he told you as if it were normal. As if he hadn’t just practically rammed your ex, his own old teammate, off the track without a single regard for safety. “It happens.”

“It happens?” You almost laughed at his audacity. “So what? You just happened to turn your steering wheel to the right on a straight? You just happened to push him off? That was no accident. Anyone could see you meant to do that.”

“So what if I did?” he argued, brows furrowing, his mouth downturned in anger. Somehow, you knew he didn’t mean to direct it at you. “He deserved it.”

Your brows rose, your arms crossed over your chest. “He deserved it?”

“He’s been calling you names to the press since last year. The things he's been saying about you during drivers' parades— Even Oscar looked like he wanted to hit him today!" He took a breath through gritted teeth, glaring up at the ceiling lights. "I told you I wouldn’t just sit by and do nothing. I meant it.”

“You still can’t just force people off the track, Seokmin.”

“Apparently, I can,” he replied with a shrug and reached for a change of clothes. 

“You could’ve been on the podium today! Podium, Seokmin! This team hasn't been this close to a podium finish in four years! And you just threw all that away to what? Defend my honour?” You weren't just pissed. You were livid on behalf of both yourself and the team.

He smiled and it looked like a sad replica of the real masterpiece. “If I got that close this time, who’s to say I can’t do it again next time?”

It was damn hard to argue with a man who's already decided he's right. It was even harder to argue with Seokmin, who made decisions based on loyalty instead of logic.

“You’re going to get a penalty." The rage had already almost disappeared from your voice. Maybe you weren't the most rational being either. "A big one.”

He pulled off his fireproof shirt, sweaty skin glistening golden under the lights. You averted your eyes, glaring increasingly duller daggers at a framed photo of the team.

“I’ll take it proudly. I’ve had a clean record until now.”

Your eyes stung with tears waiting to be shed. You gritted your teeth and tried to sound more angry than scared when you told him, “You could’ve been hurt.”

He paused, his team kit polo halfway on. After a moment of thought, he slipped the rest of it on and sighed while straightening it out. 

You didn’t look. You didn’t dare to lower your face, afraid the tears would really come if you did. But you felt his presence as he stepped closer. 

Heat radiated off of him as he stood right in front of you, close enough that you could taste his words when he whispered, “Were you worried?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue. Still avoiding his eyes, you resisted the urge to scream them.

“Were you?” he repeated, his fingers caressing the apple of your cheek. 

You wanted to slap him for throwing away the podium. You wanted to shove him for making you worry. You wanted to grab him by the collar and pull him close for shielding you even when you didn't ask him to, even when it got him in trouble. You wanted to kiss him dumb for caring so much.

“Of course I was worried,” you told him, your voice hushed and raw. “How could I not be?”

A smile appeared on his face, soft and gentle and small. “Look at you, getting all soft on me.”

“You could’ve been really hurt,” you reminded him, your eyes finally finding his. The feeling of vulnerability was no stranger, but it had never felt quite so demanding. Without your consent, or any thought at all, your hands rose to take his face between them. Your fingers ran across his skin, wordlessly checking for injuries and scrapes the doctor might have missed. You breathed out in relief and rested your hands on his collarbones. “Never do that again, okay?”

He chuckled. “You’re asking a lot of me.”

“Never. Again.” You forced your voice to be firm even as the first tear slipped down your cheek and right onto his fingers. “Promise me. Promise you’ll race clean. Promise you won’t try to push him off again. Promise you’ll come back to me, uninjured.”

His thumb brushed across your cheek, wiped away the salty bead. Face solemn, sincere, he whispered, "I promise you."

You kissed him before you could hesitate. Pressed your lips to his with such force it almost made you wince. Fingers threading into the hair on the back of his head, breath mixing with his, you didn't want to let him go.

If he was startled, he didn't show it. You'd grown familiar with the feeling of his arms wrapping around your waist, but this time it felt like more. His fingers found the hem of your jacket, slid underneath as if the feel of your skin alone could heal the ache in his bones.

"Say it again," you asked against his lips before kissing him again and once more for good measure. "Promise me again."

One arm wandering higher to push against your upper back, to pull you even closer, he let out a soft, strangled sound. Eyes squeezed shut like he was afraid it was a dream he'd have to wake up from, he repeated, "I promise you. I promise."

"Never again," you begged. "Never make me worry like that again. Come back to me."

"Always back to you," he spoke fervently while his lips found a path — one he cherished with a slow passion — from your mouth to your collarbone. The first of many love bites would bloom right there in a mere minute.

Music played softly in the background, slow and strangely nostalgic, just like the feeling of his breath against your neck, just like the gentle touches of his fingers against your palm.

His lips left another warm mark on your skin. You couldn't help but smile at the feeling, free hand reaching up to play with his hair. He let out a soft hum, content and fulfilled.

"You were made to be loved like this," he suddenly mumbled, his words muffled and yet to clear.

You snorted out a little laugh, tried to decipher the meaning of his words. "In a hotel bed after a grand prix?"

He let out a noise of protest but stopped mid-way, lashes fluttering as his eyes opened and he leaned up on his elbow. Lips pursed in a defiant pout, he glared down at you as if you'd offended his very being. His fierce expression only served to amuse you, and seeing your smile, he melted.

"No, I meant— Okay, yes, a little bit in a bed after a grand prix," he conceded with a roll of his eyes before slumping back down and burrowing back into his new favourite hiding place in your embrace. You couldn't help but feel like he belonged right there.

"Was it worth the penalty? Five grid places dropped?" you wondered jokingly.

"So worth it," he replied with a smile. It melted into something softer, sweeter when your eyes met. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated. "I actually meant… Never mind, it's too silly."

"Nothing you say is too silly," you told him, fingers brushing through his hair.

He pressed another kiss to your skin at the words.

"Come on," you urged, nudging him just a little. He giggled and it was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard. "What were you going to say?"

"I was trying to say," he started, hesitant all of a sudden as if he feared the moment had passed, "that you should be loved gently. Reverently — I think that's the word." He leaned up once more, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. His gaze spoke a thousand words but he settled for fewer. "You deserve so much more than he ever gave you. I need you to know that."

You smiled. It was a sad smile, the regretful kind. It said you wished he was right.

As if he could read your mind, he sighed and matched your smile. "I wish I'd met you before he did. I wish it was me who earned your love and made you smile and laugh. I wish you never had to face the things he threw your way — the media frenzy, the accusations, the humiliation. You deserve so much more."

"It's a good thing you got me now then, right?" you whispered back.

He looked at you, really looked. His gaze caressed every inch of your visible skin, every mole, every birthmark, every scar. "I still can't believe this is real. You and I. On the same team. In the same bed." He laughed. "Maybe I'm still dreaming."

"You're not dreaming."

You weren't sure he believed you yet. You weren't sure you believed it yourself.

[JEDDAH 2025]

The circuit was buzzing. Ten minutes until the race, twenty cars lined up on the grid, a crowd of journalists and fans and mechanics alike walking about the track for final preparations.

All too aware of all the eyes, you fixed your lipstick and made your way over to Seokmin, his blue Williams neatly parked in the 6th grid box. He wasn't in the car yet, his racing suit still half unzipped, a wide, relaxed smile on his face while he gave an interview.

His eyes lit up some more when he caught your eyes. As soon as the journalist had wished him luck and started the hunt for the next willing victim, Seokmin waved you closer.

You glanced about the track dramatically before smiling at him. "Haven't seen you this far up the grid in months."

"Yeah?" He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead in a way that was so devastatingly attractive. "Yeah, I guess it's been a while."

"Planning on getting some points today?" you teased, nudging his side.

"For you?" he replied, eyes glinting with promises you couldn't wait to hear. "As many as you want. Just say the word."

Your entire being softened at his words. Memories of his crash two weeks ago were still fresh on your mind, replaying even now when you looked at his car. You looked further up the grid — Seungcheol was starting from pole today, having barely found enough the tenths of a second to out-qualify the McLarens.

First and sixth, you thought and felt bad for the sigh of relief you almost breathed out.

"Even just one point is fine," you told him, hand reaching up to adjust his collar. Your thumbs brushed his jawline and you couldn't help but laugh at how easy and right it felt. It was as if a switch had flipped back in Suzuka. Gone were the days when you'd been too hesitant to even nudge his side; now it seemed you couldn't keep your hands off of him at all. It was natural, you supposed. Blinking the thought away, you smiled at him. "Just don't crash. Remember, you promised."

"I'll try my best," he replied. His gaze lowered and he grinned wide. "You're wearing my number again."

You raised a brow. "And that's enough to make you smile like a schoolboy?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" he wondered and it sounded like a genuine question from his heart. As if he couldn't wrap his head around the possibility of not being excited about something as simple and cliché as someone wearing a jacket with his racing number on it.

The realisation made you giddy inside. You didn't fight the urge to kiss his cheek, lingering longer than was probably polite. A mechanic whistled and smirked at the sight, only laughing when you pulled away to glare at him. He laughed harder when he looked up at Seokmin.

You soon gasped and followed suit. Reaching up to wipe Seokmin's cheek, you apologised, "I forgot I just re-applied my lipstick. I'm so sorry."

"Did you get a mark on me?" he asked and giggled when you confirmed his suspicions. Before you could clean it off, he practically jumped out of your reach, his hand covering the mark like a shield while he grinned. "Don't you dare!"

"You can't go racing with lipstick on your face!" you protested through laughter of your own and tried to wipe it off again. He dodged your efforts until you eventually gave up with a defeated sigh. "You're impossible."

He shrugged. "Maybe. But I'll take all the luck you give me, the lipstick included."

"It's bright red."

"Matches my helmet."

"You'll get your padding all dirty. It'll smudge."

"Even luckier," he sang before reaching over to get his balaclava. He smiled even as he pulled it on over his head. The lipstick mark peeked out from under the white fabric, just a corner of the red still visible on his cheek.

It looked like a secret you couldn't wait to share. Your fingers twitched around your phone, itching to take a photo to upload on the team page, to let the world know it was your lipstick he wore with such pride.

"You really think it'll bring you luck?" you wondered, some disbelief still obvious in your voice.

He nodded like it was one of the fundamental truths of the universe. "It's from you."

And maybe he was right. Or maybe he was simply that good of a driver. You liked to think it was a combination.

The rouge on your lips wore off by the halfway point of the race, smudging and flaking under your anxious biting. It was only fair to assume the stain on his cheek had also disappeared, a victim to sweat and cloth. You had no time to care — Seokmin had long abandoned his 6th spot in the line-up, climbing higher and higher up the leaderboard.

The entire team seemed to be holding their breath. You heard someone whisper a prayer under his breath, begging the higher powers to keep recent history from repeating. The air was tense with anticipation.

"And what is this? A Williams challenging Charles Leclerc's Ferrari for 3rd place?"

Even the commentators sounded baffled.

"There's still 13 laps to go but it looks like Lee has somehow found enough pace to close the gap. Less than two tenths of a second between them."

The two cars raced across the screen in a blur of reds and blues, side by side, before Seokmin fell back again in a corner. You felt your nails digging into your palms.

"And he started from 6th, did he not?"

"An impressive race for him, regardless of whether or not he makes it onto the podium today."

"He did almost make it to 3rd place back in Japan just two weeks ago. Could this finally be his lucky break?"

"Come on, Seokmin," you whispered and willed your heart rate to slow down. "You can do this."

The cars were side by side again, evenly matched, perfect equals for those five seconds down the straight. Then one of them seemed to find the little extra something — Seokmin passed the Ferrari in the next corner to the sound of loud cheers from the garage and the crowd alike.

"In a simply amazing move, Lee has made it into the top three, joining Seungcheol Choi in second and Oscar Piastri who's currently leading the race."

Your eyebrows rose at their own accord; focused on Seokmin's race, you hadn't even noticed when Seungcheol had lost the lead. Whenever that had happened — you realised while looking at the track position graphic — Seungcheol had lost more than three seconds to the McLaren.

Seeing their names so close together on the screen again made it hard to breathe.

"He promised," you mumbled to yourself. A reminder. "He told me he promised."

But Seungcheol hadn't, and he wasn't the type to give in easily. Isn't that what he told you just two weeks ago? That he wouldn't give up this time? You could only hope he cared more for his team's position than for this stupid grudge.

Ten laps to go. The gap was still big enough to avoid another crash, two seconds between the drivers. But Seokmin was gaining on him fast.

'Fastest lap: Seokmin Lee' read the purple graphic on the top part of the screen. The commentators predicted the fight for P2 could happen in just a few laps at the current pace. You were torn between hoping they were right and praying they were wrong.

You wanted to get on the radio and tell him that just getting on the podium was enough. You wanted to tell him to just focus on defending his position. A third place was more than the team had dared to hope for this season; he didn't need to keep pushing for the second place, you were already proud of him.

But you were just a woman on the social media team. You weren't privy to the radio messages and strategy calls. All you could do was stare at the TV screen and hope for a lucky ending to this race.

Five laps to go. The gap was practically non-existent now. Two blue cars next to each other on the track, battling for P2 like it was the championship title.

"What a marvellous move by Choi, defending his position! Lee's going to have to find a different place to overtake."

Every camera angle seemed to be focused on the man of your past and the man of your present. You thought your heart might stop working at this rate. Someone from the team stepped closer and patted your shoulder; it did nothing to ease your worries.

"Lee tries again, but Choi is a master of defensive driving and blocks his attempt. This is absolutely cinematic to watch. A proper clean battle on the track."

You couldn't have cared less for the cinema of it all. All you wanted was for Seokmin to finish the race safe and sound and without a single scratch on the beautiful face you intended to kiss silly. When you dared to glance away from the screen, you found yourself clutching the number on the jacket, nails locked under the edges of the sewn-on patch.

"That was an unlucky lock-up for Choi but an incredibly lucky one for Lee, who has now taken P2 from right underneath his former team mate's nose! Absolutely fantastic! And he's already creating a gap between them!"

There was a squeal of excitement. It didn't hit you until moments later that it had been you who had made the sound. Your lips spread into a wide grin, hands coming up to cover it as if showing your elation could be bad luck. Only three laps to go, less than 5 minutes of the race left, and Seokmin — your Seokmin — was so close to the podium that he could taste it.

"Was our car always this good?" someone on the team whispered between the restrained chatter of excitement in the garage.

"Yeah," you replied softly, hands falling down to clutch the number on your chest again, smile still lighting up your face. "But now it has the drivers to prove it."

The better part of the team practically ran out of the garage the moment the finish line was crossed. You were pulled into a group hug to the sound of hollering and cheers and laughter.

"Albon P9, Lee P2," someone called out to inform everyone. The celebrations at the barricade got louder.

One by one, the cars rolled into their spots. The winning McLaren took its spot in the centre of it all, but you weren't paying it much attention. It was hard to when Seokmin's Williams rolled into the spot right next to it, dusty and gravel-scraped from battle, its driver jumping out of the cockpit and smiling the moment he got his helmet off.

The red mark still stood proud on his cheek when he hugged the winner to congratulate him. It seemed to shimmer under the lights when he looked out to the crowd to find you. He pointed at the stain, eyes questioning.

"Is it still there?" he asked wordlessly and you nodded. He smiled wider like that little fact was worth more than the trophy he was about to receive.

Behind him, you saw Seungcheol, freshly rolled into the spot designated for P3. His Red Bull still looked pristine — you supposed it had barely even been a battle for him —, but the driver looked like he'd been through hell and back. Eyes red-rimmed with tears and anger, mouth down-turned, tugging on his hair in frustration when his eyes met yours. He glared. His foot hit the front left tyre in anger. Off he went to get weighed.

You looked at him for a short while, wondered what you had seen in him. He wasn't always like this, you thought as if to reassure yourself. But you couldn't pinpoint when the change had happened, nor did you want to. He wasn't your problem anymore, hadn't been for a long time.

"Not to discount the car, but you had a phenomenal drive today," the journalist spoke. "Your best of the season. How did that happen?"

"How did I drive so well today?" Seokmin laughed at the clumsy question, glancing up at the ceiling in thought before shrugging. "The team's been amazing, the car was great today—"

"But anything about your life specifically?" the journalist pressed, and you could practically hear the mischievous smile in his tone. "Something to do with the red on your cheek, perhaps?"

Seokmin's eyes lit up with the realisation. Instinctively, his free hand rose to touch the mark. It barely even looked like a lipstick stain anymore, just a vaguely shaped blob of Ruby Woo on his skin. "Oh, that's from my muse. I told her it would be a lucky kiss but she didn't believe me." They laughed in unison. "Guess I was right."

[MIAMI 2025]

The city was buzzing with excitement, and so were you, for a different reason altogether.

The nights before races have always been equal parts stressful and amazing. There's work to do, cars to maintain, pre-race rituals to partake in. You could hear the fans out in the streets, making memories and predictions between singing their favourite drivers' fight songs. They've bought their favourite teams' jackets, papaya orange and Ferrari red and Red Bull blues. From the corner of your eye, you spotted a couple in Williams' jackets, proud numbers 23 and 9 on his and her backs respectively.

But while they donned team kits and colours, you were abandoning yours for the night. Your staff shirt was long forgotten on the bed while you did your make-up. Seokmin's text message practically burned into your brain:

[i'll meet you in the lobby at 8 :)]

You had giggled, kicked your feet against the hotel mattress like you were the lead in a 2000s rom-com, and quickly replied with a 'can't wait' and a heart-eyes emoji. You hadn't checked your phone even once since then, too busy picking out your outfit and bringing forward the inner beauty you hoped would make up for the tired bags under your eyes.

Perhaps, you now thought and glanced back at your phone, the emoji had been a little bit too much. It wasn't like you were anything serious. Not yet anyway.

Sure, you'd kissed his cheek. Sure, you'd earned a gentle noise complaint back in Japan. Sure, you were giddy and giggly and getting ready for a date.

Oh.

Maybe it was serious.

For some reason, that thought made you smile wider.

You checked your reflection one last time and practically danced out of your hotel room, phone in hand. It was only in the elevator that you checked your phone again — just a brief glance at the lock screen for any stray notifications.

It hit you how different things were now. You used to check your phone every few minutes back then, anxious to see if your fiancé had decided to cancel another date. Even with Seokmin, you'd spent the first few times going out memorising the messages and overanalysing every interaction like there was a hidden rejection written into his warm gaze.

A little bit of trust and comfort goes a long way, you supposed.

There was an email from work, something about the next day's itinerary. There was a message from home, some notifications from your social media apps. And there was a message from Seokmin. You tapped on the last one without hesitation.

[are you more of a tulips or a roses type of girl?]

[pls answer quick. the flower store employee's starting to look at me weird]

[…]

[i'm so sorry if you don't like roses 😭]

You were laughing when you walked out into the hotel lobby. One of the drivers walked past you and offered a silly smile, curious but too tired to ask. His attention was promptly stolen by his girlfriend showing him something on her hand, just as yours was by the sight of a familiar wide smile.

Seokmin stood near a window, leaning against a pillar. He looked so different out of his racing suit, out of his team kit polos. You almost wished the FIA made it mandatory for drivers — or at least this driver — to wear dress shirts and slacks more often. At least once a week would do, you supposed as you walked over to him.

His arms reached out, inviting you into his warm embrace. The stems of the flowers pressed gently into your lower back, the petals brushed over your exposed skin. You held him closer.

"You look mighty handsome," you told him with a chuckle, trying so hard not to let your knees buckle and your heart stop. A fan walking past the hotel window with her friends visibly gasped and feigned falling over at the sight — she had no idea how much you were fighting not to do the same.

He practically beamed at the compliment, free hand rising to rub the back of his reddening neck. "Nowhere as gorgeous as you."

Pretending his words didn't affect you as much as they did, you looked for a distraction. You gave the bouquet in his hand a pointed glance. His breath caught in his throat as if he'd been caught in a crime.

"Oh!" He held the flowers out for you to take. "You didn't tell me if you liked roses or tulips more, so I got roses. I hope that's okay." He barely gave you any time to reply. "I mean, if you don't like them, we can just pretend this didn't happen and I can get you some tulips instead. Or lilies. Or daisies. Are daisies romantic? I've never done this bef—"

"The roses are perfect," you told him with a gentle laugh and took them from his hand, holding them close to your chest in appreciation. "Thank you."

As if you'd said the magic words, he visibly relaxed in front of you. "Okay. That's good. That's— Yeah. I'm glad you like them."

"You weren't this awkward back in Singapore," you joked and grabbed a hold of his arm. The muscles flexed under your hand, firm and steady and safe. "Or even Suzuka."

"Well, to be fair, I wasn't trying to date you back in Singapore," he told you as he led you to the hotel restaurant. "And I'm still not entirely convinced what happened in Japan wasn't a fever dream."

You supposed you couldn't blame him for that.

The harsh lights of the lobby disappeared and gave way to a warmer atmospheric light from candles and fairy lights. A waitress led you to a table, handing out drink menus with practised grace. She made a joke about running out of vases with all the romantic dates happening on this evening but rushed to find you one anyway. She ended up setting it on the table for you to rest your roses in.

It was like straight out of a movie — a perfect date filled with affectionate glances, warm smiles, sharing your dishes because "yours looks so much better!". His fingers found yours from across the table before dessert. He drew shapes onto your skin with his thumb, his eyes never leaving yours as he listened to every word you said like it was gospel.

A flash and a panicked movement caught your attention. Playfully, you sighed. "I guess we've been found out."

Seokmin chuckled and his eyes briefly snapped to see the culprit. "Does it bother you?"

"The fans?" you wondered.

"The attention." His head tilted in thought, his smile a little more mellow than before. "It must be strange, going from just someone on the paddock to having people recognise you just because you were seen with a Formula 1 driver. You were just (Y/n) back when you joined AlphaTauri, but now people see you and think…"

He hesitated to continue but you weren't as reluctant. Pitching your voice just a little bit higher, you imitated the countless girls you'd met on the paddock: "'Oh my god, aren't you Seungcheol's ex?' Yeah, it's a little bit weird." You took a sip of your wine, stared at the candle flame. "Apparently, there are fan pages for me? I guess maybe I should've capitalised on the fame a little more when I had the chance."

It was a pattern seen a thousand times before, one you had somehow avoided this far. You'd seen it in the way other drivers' girlfriends reacted to new-found fame: all too-aware of the cameras, switching from team hoodies to designer dresses to fit in the box the fans expected them to be in. You'd been protected from some of that pressure by the virtue of being a staff member — no point in doing your hair and picking out outfits when you were mandated to wear your team polo everywhere you went.

He made a noise in the back of his throat. "Well, I think 'Isn't that Seokmin's girl?' has a nice ring to it."

Your cheeks were starting to hurt from how much you'd been smiling all night.

'Seokmin's girl' — it sounded unreal, like something from a distant dream you hadn't dared to hope would become reality. At first, it had been jarring, being associated with Seokmin instead of your ex. Then it became some sweet but unfamiliar. You couldn't wait until it would become second nature.

His train of thought seemed to have taken a similar route, his eyes bright with excitement and adoration as he mumbled, "My (Y/n)."

"I think a certain Red Bull driver might start causing collisions on purpose if you start calling me that to the media," you reminded him with a bashful grin.

"So what?" He leaned closer. "I'll walk out of a thousand crashes if it means I get to come back to you."

"Or," you reasoned, "we could keep it quiet and avoid all of that." He looked like he wanted to protest. You rushed to add, "Just for a little while. Just until this… feels real."

"It is real."

"You just said what happened in Suzuka felt like a fever dream."

"Can you blame me?" He laughed. "I got out of a crash to you yelling at me. And then you kissed me and then suddenly we were in my hotel room, naked. For all I know, I might have been hallucinating from a secret concussion."

"I can assure you," you squeezed his hand and chuckled, "it was very real."

"Then this is real too. But I suppose," he sighed with theatrical despair, "I can survive keeping this our little secret for a little longer."

You were about to argue it wasn't much of a secret if he wore your lipstick stain on race days and ran to hug you after every racing event, but he leaned over the table, careful of the candle, and pressed his lips to yours.

You blinked and giggled when he leaned back into his seat with a victorious grin. "We're going to have to discuss your definition of a secret."

He scrunched up his face, still smiling, and leaned closer again. He whispered, "I'm very bad at keeping secrets."

A stray thought passed by. You latched onto it. It wasn't your fault you were curious by nature, even if it was to your own peril.

"Yeah?" you teased, leaning closer as well. You could practically smell the tiramisu in his breath. "I heard there's one you kept a little too well."

His lashes fluttered in confusion. "What?"

"I heard you've had a little crush on me since I first joined AlphaTauri."

You watched his ears turn red, his eyes squeeze shut with embarrassment. "Who told you?"

A gasp of delight. You leaned back to laugh out loud. "So it's true!" He slumped in his chair, hiding his face in his hands. "You've liked me that long?"

"Can you blame me?" you faintly heard Seokmin mumble over the bossa nova mix playing in the background. Seokmin grimaced but slowly relaxed again, a rueful smile on his face when he looked at you again. "I think half the grid had a crush on you back then."

"Now you're just being dramatic."

"No, I swear," he argued. "I distinctly remember at least seven of us lining up near the AlphaTauri hospitality to see you."

You should've guessed it was the truth — Seungcheol might have been an asshole, but he'd never been a liar. He'd long found a weapon in twisting the truth instead. There was a certain taste of victorious revenge to the way you now turned one of his hurtful half-truths into a moment of joy and love for your heart. The next step would be to forget him entirely.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" you asked him, voice soft and fingers reaching for his again.

He shrugged. "I'm telling you now."

[MONTREAL 2025]

Starting 4th was not the most ideal way to go, no matter the strategy. Especially when the car lined up next to his on the grid bore the number 8.

"Just avoid the walls," you reminded Seokmin, smiling at him like you often found yourself doing. He laughed as if it was easier said than done, eyes full of longing as he looked at your red lips. Catching onto his intentions, you took back one step and laughed.

Faux innocence and adoration were written all over his blinking eyes. "What?"

"You look like you want to kiss me," — he let out a hum of agreement at your words —, "and I promised the team I wouldn't let you do that in public."

"What?!" Seokmin's brows furrowed in near-vicious protest. "What next? Are they going to ban you from wearing my number too?"

You glanced down at your jacket. It was a newer version, still the familiar Williams' blue but now with yellow accents, his number 9 designed rather than haphazardly sewn onto it. Your hat matched it to a T, though you'd scribbled a clumsy bold 23 on the side of it as a slight concession to the team's reminders.

"Well," you started and burst into laughter again when he practically glowered at you, all dramatics but no bite. Instead of entertaining his jealousy further (and possibly accidentally earning his wrath), you pulled out your phone and tapped on the camera app. You might have been a woman in love — in like? you weren't entirely sure yet — but you were also a woman with a job.

You almost pressed record before hesitating. Something was odd about the sight on your screen. It was Seokmin, sure, but there was something missing. You tilted your head to the side and frowned.

Seokmin's scowl had melted into a gentle smile, his head tilting to match yours as if he could see you better this way. He glanced at the camera and raised a brow. "Something wrong?"

"Well, no, but," you trailed off. A glance away from the screen to look at him off of it. Back to the screen. Everything was right, but …

"Did you forget something?" He leaned closer, teasing you. Eyes sparkling with mischief, he pointed at his cheek — plain tan skin, only a mole and a faded scar from a past racing incident. You stared at it. He snorted out a laugh. "Is this it? You're breaking up with me? Sending me off to the race, luckless?"

Luck. Of course. You should've known he wouldn't let you forget.

With a dramatic defeated sigh, you leaned forward and kissed his skin. Free hand reaching up to hold his head still by his chin while his body began to shake with gleeful giggles, you made sure to press your lips against him a little harder than necessary. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close (you couldn't see the half-hearted glares he sent the mechanics and drivers who dared to offer questioning looks or teasing smiles).

You stepped back — he let out something like a soft whine — and admired your work. Bright and red and perfectly shaped. If that one wasn't lucky enough to get him on the podium, you weren't sure what would. With a satisfied nod, you lifted the phone again and pressed record before he could fully recover.

"Any promises for this race?" you asked in your most professional voice, and he stared at you for a moment, completely dazed by the turn of events as if this didn't happen on most weekends.

"Did you ask Alex that as well?" he wondered after a moment of thought, a gleeful spark in his eyes. He was buying time. "What did he say?"

"Alex promised to cause havoc in the middle of the grid," you informed him, glancing back at the driver of the car 23, already half-inside the cockpit back in P9.

Many heads turned to the sound of Seokmin's laughter. Uncaring of their attention, he ran a hand through his hair. "That sounds about right."

"Right. So, your promise?"

He winked. "To get on the podium."

The race started seven minutes later to the sound of roaring fans and engines. Seokmin's promise seemed more like a wishful hope now that he got pushed to fifth place by a Mercedes at the first turn of the very first lap. The broadcast producers made sure the replay the overtake what felt like twenty times. It didn't stop the team from pushing forward — there were still 69 laps to go and make up positions.

It was five laps later that the cameras focused on him again. The blue Williams in hot pursuit of the very Mercedes that had overtaken him. Only two tenths of a second behind. Even the commentators were buzzing with excitement — if you hadn't known better, you would've thought they had taken a liking to Seokmin.

"They're approaching the last chicane. Will Lee take this opportunity, or will he bail? He's overtaken in far less convenient places on this circuit in the past."

"I can't imagine he'd be very happy to finish the race in a lower place than he started—"

Seokmin's car pulled out of the Mercedes's slipstream, going wheel to wheel with him for a chance. It was a risk, but so was every part of this sport. You held your breath.

"He's going for it! Lee's taken the inside line through the chicane and it's paid off! He's back in fourth position, right where he started."

Someone in the garage jumped out of his chair and let out a victorious cheer.

"But it looks like he is not satisfied with just fourth. He's already closing the gap to Choi in P3. We could get another interesting battle between these two. They were team mates last season, but it seems that this year they're rivals, and they're both out for blood."

"I don't imagine their teamwork ended on a high note, considering some of the comments we've heard them make about each other. Rumour has it Lee stole Choi's girlfriend."

"And he's about to steal more than that right in this moment. Lee's got the inside line again—"

"It's like clockwork. He's found a trick that works, and he's sticking with it.

A woman — some celebrity invited to watch the Grand Prix — glanced your way. You supposed your reputation was more widely known than you would've liked. But there was nothing to do about it now.

There was a cameraman in the garage, the lens ominously pointed at you. There was no doubt about it — the producers were about to point you out for the whole world to see. You let out a soft breath of annoyance before the realisation hit you: you didn't care.

You didn't care that the world villainised you for falling out of love with one and in love with another man. You didn't care that they were still milking this stupid drama for views and content and chaos.

It wasn't your fault, any of it, no matter what the social media pages and forums claimed. You had no reason to cower and hide, panic spreading in your chest, breath caught behind words of apology you'd never utter. Your past had nothing to do with your future, for all you cared.

All you cared about was that Seokmin was out there, on the track, fighting for a spot on the podium just as he'd promised the fans — as he'd promised you. You ignored the camera and smiled at the TV screen when the leaderboard updated again, Seokmin's name now above Seungcheol's. Williams above the Red Bulls.

"George Russell's still in the lead, Oscar Piastri right behind him with only a two-second gap, and behind them is Seokmin Lee, still on his podium streak in the Williams, also only two seconds behind! Behind him, Seungcheol Choi, who started in third and is now in fourth. What an exciting race!"

The blue Williams followed close after the orange McLaren in front of it, closing the gap a hundredth of a second by a hundredth of a second. Silent electric anticipation filled the garage around you, mechanics and engineers and guests alike watching the screens with bated breath.

Lap 14. Pit stop to change the tyres. The car stopped in front of the garage for 2.4 seconds before practically flying back onto the track. The McLaren pulled into the pit lane two laps later — the commentators mumbled something about a poor strategy call that could cost him a position. They weren't wrong.

All cameras seemed to be focused on their battle for P2, the other 18 drivers on the circuit long forgotten. Seokmin might have only gained his position through the grace of a pit stop advantage, but he was not about to lose it for poor race craft. He was defending hard while you fought the urge to start biting your nails and picking at the red colour on your lips.

The McLaren never fell far behind, even while defending against Seungcheol's aggressive advances. It provided you a reason to be an anxious mess for the next fifty laps, obsessively staring at the leaderboard, at the gaps, at any glimpse of the two cars.

Soon, the cameras seemed to get tired of following only the top of the grid. They switched to show the battle for P8 instead, the commentators overanalysing every twitch of the wheels, every lost second through the chicane, every missed overtake opportunity.

And then it happened, in the shadow of the broadcast, unnoticed by almost everyone.

Your jaw dropped. Your eyes went wide and suspiciously blurry all of a sudden, your breath sharp and hollow. Seokmin's name moved to the very top of the leaderboard with only five laps to go.

It took the commentators a whole minute to catch onto the situation, their voices rising with disbelief, demanding to see a replay of the historical moment immediately. Even the broadcast graphics delayed in surprise, finally declaring Seokmin the new race leader now that it had been brought to their attention.

"Are my eyes deceiving me? A Williams? Leading the Canadian Grand Prix?" one of the commentators practically screeched before laughing with nearly maniacal doubt. "Lee is really leading the race!"

The garage burst into cheers as if the team had already won the Grand Prix. A little early, you supposed and joined in — it's never bad to savour the moment. Especially one as special as this.

"Okay, finally a replay!" the second man spoke, a smile evident in his voice. "It looks like Lee closed the gap in the DRS zone — I didn't even know a Williams could go this fast! And he tried to overtake in turn 1, but the Mercedes defended. But Lee's not one to give up, so he tried again in turn 2, and this time it worked! And that is how he got the lead! Absolutely beautifully done."

You couldn't wait to repeat those exact last three words to Seokmin when he'd finish the race and inevitably run to hug you at the barricade.

Three laps to go. He kept the lead.

Two laps to go. Somehow, he'd managed to put an entire three seconds ahead of the Mercedes, leading at a comfortable distance. The team's first win in over a decade seemed all but inevitable now.

The final lap. You were starting to feel dizzy from how much you'd been holding your breath and squeezing your hands close to your chest. The commentators had no doubts anymore — why would they? The gap to second place was well over three seconds, still with only a kilometre to go.

"It has been a beautiful day, a beautiful race, and it's about to become a thousand times more beautiful for the Williams team. When Seokmin Lee crosses the finish line, it will be — there is no doubt about it now — not only Seokmin's first win with the team, but also his first win in two years and, more importantly, the team's first Grand Prix win since 2012. Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing a historic moment, hopefully with many more to come."

He crossed the finish line, the checkered flag, held by some celebrity you've never heard of before, waving in above the track. The garage burst into cheers and sobbing, overwhelmed by emotions that couldn't be described. Elation, surprise, excitement for the future.

"And there he comes! Seokmin Lee, a racer with heart and passion and determination like no other, crosses the finish line and wins the 2025 Canadian Grand Prix!"

Your lung capacity seemed to expand all of a sudden, and finally you could take full breaths. There was something wet on your cheeks — tears of joy, you realised. The little make-up you wore was surely smudging under the weight of it all.

You smiled brightly through the crying when your face appeared on the screen. The cameraman had found you again. Your name appeared on the screen under the tear-stained face and it took your breath away once again.

(Y/n), Williams' social media manager, partner of Seokmin Lee.

It felt real. Finally, it felt real.

A member of the team pulled you into a hug before practically dragging you out of the garage to meet the drivers, her voice full of joyous laughter like the team had won the Constructors' Championship instead of a single race. You couldn't blame her, practically squeezing her waist in similar excitement as the two of you walked.

The barricade was full of people, team and family members alike, but they made room for you. The team shared almost conspiratorial smiles and winks as they let you through until you were at the very front.

You had half a mind to reach for your phone to record the celebration — surely the fans would love to see this angle, to feel like they're part of the team's celebrations. The team member you'd walked with stole the device from your hands just as Seokmin, freshly out of the car, practically ripping the helmet and balaclava off his head, broke out running towards the barricade.

The cheers got louder, you among them when he reached the team. He jumped up into their arms, hugging his race engineer and the team principal tightly in celebration. In the distance, someone started a crowd chant of his name. You were about to join in when he reached you.

His arms wrapped around you, tight and secure, almost pulling you over the barricade as he kissed you. Right there, in front of hundreds of people, millions watching on the TV, he kissed you like you were the reason he'd won the race.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. The cheers only got louder at the sight.

In the back of your mind — the last part that wasn't completely conquered and owned by the man in front of you yet —, you realised there would be a thousand edits of this very moment tomorrow morning. A thousand angles showcasing a relationship you hadn't dared to put a label on yet. And for once, the thought didn't cause you fear, or anxiety, or indifference. It brought excitement for the future to come.

You pulled back when you ran out of air and laughed, rubbing the slight tint of red from his lips. "What was that for?"

He grinned wide. "For everything." For a moment, he seemed sheepish, as if he'd just realised what he'd done. A nervous laugh. "Sorry, I probably should've asked first— If you're not comfortable—"

"We'll talk about this later," you told him, the smile never fading. Your heart was tender and so full. You would've kissed him a thousand more times, once for every butterfly he'd unleashed inside of you. "You have interviews to give and a trophy to collect."

Your words seemed to comfort him. He offered one more smile, hesitated for a moment and then sneaked a peck on your cheek before rushing off again, over to the increasingly impatient journalist waiting in front of the cameras.

The team member who had stolen your phone grinned as well and held out the device for you to take. A silent replay of a video you hadn't seen before played on the screen. A video she had taken, you and Seokmin in each other's embrace like lovers in a romance movie. You felt a heat of embarrassment climb up your neck and cheeks at the sight and quickly locked the phone, eyeing her suspiciously while you did so.

"Credit me when you upload it," she told you with a wink. "The fans will love it."

How the team's event coordinator managed to throw this celebration together so last minute was beyond your understanding. Perhaps she'd gotten some help from the other teams who were more prepared for such situations. Or maybe she was simply a magical being.

Whatever the case, the party was in full swing in the paddock. Music blasting with Alex at the DJ station, drinks of various colours and alcohol strength flowing, a snack table made up of skittles and crisps and convenience store snacks — it was a celebration for the ages. And it was all for him.

Seokmin stood in the middle of it all, bright-eyed, smiling wide, laughing so loud it almost drowned out the music. Someone had popped open a champagne — a gift from the Mercedes team, from what you'd heard. He got the first taste of it, toasting with the team principal before downing the drink like it was a shot of tequila. The team hollered and you made sure to get it all on camera.

You stepped back from the crowd when a mechanic started a conga line. The team could celebrate, but you still had a to-do list to fulfil, posts to make, videos to edit. You found a less crowded spot near a corner, occupied an armchair and made yourself comfortable.

An intern had shared a video draft with you; it was a compilation of clips from this glorious day. Seokmin's promise of getting on the podium before he got in his car, his cheek stained with your lucky lipstick. His car pulling up in parc fermé after the race, right at the big number 1 position board. Seokmin standing on top of his car, still wearing his helmet, hands lifted high in celebration. Him running to celebrate with the team. Him standing on the podium, the trophy in hand.

You wiped away a tear of pride and messaged the intern to tell her she did a good job. She'd have two reasons to celebrate on this night.

Then you opened the camera folder on your phone. You'd been taking videos all weekend long, so many clips to edit and post. You scrolled through them all, contemplating your options.

Your thumb stopped on the one with the kiss. Glancing around as if you feared someone would catch you doing something forbidden— God, this man had you feeling like a mischievous teenager all of a sudden! You played the video, muted but so vibrant.

His eyes lit up at the sight of you. He was practically glowing when he reached for you. Arms wrapped around your waist, lifted you so you were half-hanging off the metal barricade, his lips firmly on yours. Increasingly loud cheers and chants in the background while the two of you got lost in your own little world. A moment so intimate, so special, and yet so public.

You couldn't help but smile as the video played again and again.

Realising you'd been watching the same 30-second clip for five minutes straight, you laughed at yourself and switched away from the app. It took all of your professionalism to put the clip away from your mind and focus on the social media app in front of you instead. You decided to upload the intern's compilation. It had fifty likes before you could switch back to the main page.

You scrolled through the videos on the page, clips of the race, fan reactions, about five edits of your kiss, set to the cheesiest love songs you had ever heard.

Overcome with mild embarrassment, you were just about to close the app and return to the party when a clip of Seokmin signing the champagne bottle came up. His smile so wide it was obvious even from the awkward side-view angle, he held the white marker.

His handwriting was clumsy — whose wouldn't be while writing onto a bottle of all things? — but perfectly legible: 'To my (Y/n), thank you for being here'.

Your heart clenched. Eyes started stinging with unshed tears. You held the phone close to your chest as if to cherish the moment and blinked up at the ceiling to will the tears away.

He found you just then, two drinks in hand as he approached you. You didn't notice him until you heard his soft laughter, his head tilting curiously as he watched you.

"You good?" he wondered and leaned down to kiss your cheek.

You didn't dare to answer; your lips were starting to wobble. There weren't enough words in the world to tell him how you felt anyway. A thousand dictionaries, a hundred languages could never be enough to tell him how proud you were, how much your heart craved his presence and gentle words, how you thought you might fly away just from the power of love.

Love.

Love.

You loved him. Whole-heartedly. In ways your broken heart had wanted to swear off just last year, and even more.

The ceiling was your safe space for this little while. You were certain that if you looked at him, you'd burst out crying and confess your adoration in the most embarrassing manner, probably through snotty sobs and on your knees. The team would get a kick out of it.

But poor Seokmin couldn't read your mind. He soundlessly set the cups on a table nearby. You heard no smile in his voice when he asked, "Is this about the kiss? I'm sorry. Are you upset with me? I'm so sorr—"

You straightened up and grabbed him by the collar of his stupidly attractive dumb white t-shirt. And you kissed him. Poured every adoring word, every overpowering feeling, every dumb doubt, every exhilarating revelation into it. You wanted him to feel what you felt, wanted him to know that this was real, wanted to erase every doubt so completely they wouldn't even leave a single crease on the paper.

His hand on your waist, the other resting against your cheek, he kissed you back with the same intensity. Like he'd waited his entire life for this very moment, like he could read your thoughts and wanted to memorise every line.

"Oh my god, get a room!" someone from the crowd shouted. It sounded an awful lot like Yuki.

You pulled away with a laugh, ignored the stray tear that ran down your cheek as your feelings reached a high point. Seokmin whined in protest and chased your lips, pressed against them once more, gently now. He was practically straddling you on the chair now. The team would definitely never let you live this down.

"That was…" You breathed out, hands lowering to rest against his chest. You giggled when he tried to lean forward to kiss you a third time. "People are watching."

He scowled. "Oh, but when you do it, it's fine?"

You conceded and let him kiss you once more, laughing into it. Finally, he pulled away and smiled brightly at you.

"I thought you were mad at me," he told you.

Your head was shaking before you could find the words to say. "I was mad at myself."

His brows furrowed but the smile — oh, that beautiful smile — remained. "Why?"

"Because I didn't realise how much I loved you until now," you confessed, and it felt easy. There was no anxiety, no red-hot flash of realisation you'd said the unthinkable running up your spine. You simply said it. And it felt right. "I love you."

He seemed to melt into goo right in front of you. He was red-eared, eyes sparkling and pupils wide like those videos of cats looking at Christmas ornaments. His entire body seemed to vibrate with shy giggles. He swallowed hard and looked all around the room like he couldn't be trusted to look at you. You wanted to pull him back into your arms and hug him close, to squeeze him until he'd beg for you to stop through overwhelmed laughter.

He cleared his throat. And it was like a switch flipped — the shy Seokmin hid away, a more confident and love-struck one taking his place. His eyes found yours again. He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you again, short and sweet, before whispering, "It's a good thing I love you too, then."

"Definitely a good thing," you agreed, positively kissed dumb by now.

"I guess there's no point in pretending we're just friends who kiss sometimes anymore," he joked. Well, half-joked, you supposed. It's not like you'd put a label on it so far. You could only imagine what the rest of the world thought the two of you were when even the two of you couldn't decide.

You shook your head no. "But I do think this is the part where you ask me to be your girlfriend."

He gasped, always so endearingly theatrical and over the top. "So you can reject me?"

"Maybe."

"You can't reject me today," he concluded after a moment of thought. "I won the race, so you have to say yes."

"Maybe."

"So will you? Be my girlfriend? Be mine?" He seemed to practically glow at the idea. And he only seemed to get happier when you nodded yes and leaned forward to kiss him once more for good measure.

"My girlfriend," he mumbled, forehead leaning against yours. He was looking at you like you were the only people in the room, like Lando Norris wasn't screaming playful threats of reporting the two of you to the FIA for public indecency. Seokmin's grin widened, and suddenly he was standing up, hands holding yours in a tight grip. "You know what that means?"

Your lashes fluttered a thousand times a minute, confusion evident in the hesitant way you let him pull you up as well. "What?"

"You're legally obligated to dance with me," he declared and gave you a twirl. Your confusion melted into laughter as you took to the dance floor, the crowd cheering you on.

While he twirled you around like it was the only dance move he knew, from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar figure. Seungcheol stood by a wall, still dressed in the Red Bull team kit. You felt a little guilty that you couldn't even guess where he’d ended up on the leaderboard. 

Not on the podium, you realised and the thought didn't bring any feelings at all. The blank space he'd left in your heart had long since been filled by another man, a better one.

You offered Seungcheol a tight-lipped smile, a peace-offering after the year of rivalries and scandals — you were taking the higher ground. There was no point in fighting when the bridge between you had long burnt down. He seemed almost startled to see it. His lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. Then he walked away like a man who'd lost more than the podium. And you felt nothing at all, for him at least.

You were done with that chapter, looking at a whole new book.

Seokmin kissed your cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too," you told him, tearing the last of your attention away from the man of your past. "Even if you twirl me around a thousand times a minute."

He laughed and twirled you once more. You supposed this near-perfect man was allowed to have this one flaw.

"I love you," he whispered once more as he pulled you closer until you were chest to chest. "I love you. I love you. I love you."

It was impossible not to laugh and melt. "How many times are you going to say that?"

He pressed his lips to yours once more. "A thousand times." You supposed you could live with that. "Today." Laughter bubbled from your throat. "Then about a million tomorrow. And another million the day after, and the day after—"

"You're crazy."

"Only for you, my love," he replied with a smile, and you melted all over again.

[gent1es3xy]

OH MY DK, I NEED HIM

[cut1esdokyeom]

Can we talk about how aesthetically beautiful the DxS trailer is?? Both Dk and Seungkwan look so good, truly yearning worthy (hehe) I love it and I genuinely can’t wait for the whole album to come out <3

THE WEDDING RING??? OML LEE SEOKMIN DO YOU WANT ME TO PASS OUT? I need them to act in a drama, like right this instant <33 The cinematography and color scheme is so beautiful to me, genuinely amazing.

[kyeomic]

🥴

[cut1esdokyeom]

His bare face is so beautiful, I love it <3