─ • CSC .ᐟ His eyes on you.
› pairing┆cheol x reader › genre┆romance, Valentin's date. ✎ word-count .ᐟ 2.1k ⌁ summary┆Valentine’s Day with Seungcheol was never going to be simple. He doesn’t do simple. He does grand entrances. ⇢ This fic is part of the Candy Hearts event organised by @svthub. I am very happy to wish once again a Happy Valentine's Day to our lovely @sunniques 💌 I hope February was kind to you.
You wake up to the sound of your phone vibrating across your nightstand. You feel warm under the blanket, sunlight coming through the curtains of your bedroom.
An upcoming call from “Cheol ♡” flashes across the screen.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he says the moment you answer, his voice still husky with sleep. It slides down your spine like warm honey. “Don’t make plans today.”
You laugh softly. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I think that was implied.”, rolling into the bed smiling brightly.
“I know,” he replies, and you can practically hear the smirk. “But I need you available. Completely. I’ve got plans.”
“Oh? Secret plans?”
“Very. And you’re going to wear something I bought you.”
You sit up a little straighter. “You bought me something?”
“It’ll be there in an hour,” he says smoothly. “Try it on. Send me a picture.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Mm,” he hums. “And you love it.”
You absolutely do. You were so excited to see what your boyfriend had planned out for you. And you knew, it was gonna be good
The delivery arrives exactly fifty-three minutes later on the dot. Of course it does. Seungcheol is many things—dramatic, competitive, ridiculously charming—but he is never late when it comes to you. He sets his priorities straight.
The box is heavy. Luxurious. Matte black with a gold-embossed logo that makes your eyebrows lift in shock and squeal in excitement.
He really did not hold back.
Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is the dress.
It’s silk. Deep, dark crimson. The kind of red that feels almost sinful. The fabric catches the light like liquid. It’s backless, held up by delicate straps that cross at the shoulders. The neckline dips just enough to make your pulse quicken, and the slit along one thigh is daring without being obvious. You knew your boyfriend had taste, but he was surpassing himself on that one
Inside the same box, sat an envelope with a note closed off by a red wax seal stamp.
For the most beautiful woman in any room. Wear this tonight and let me show you off properly. - CSC
You stare at the dress for a long moment before you press it against yourself in disbelief, before running to your walk-in closet to step in front of the mirror to try it on.
It fits like it was tailored for you, which, knowing the man - could be possible.
The silk hugs your waist, skims your hips, and flows just enough to make you feel elegant instead of exposed. When you turn, the open back leaves your skin bare, vulnerable in a way that makes your cheeks warm.
You take a picture—full length, soft lighting—and send it to him.
Three dots appear immediately.
Then your phone rings. An upcoming video call.
“Are you trying to kill me?” he says by way of greeting.
You cannot help but giggle at his reaction. “Too much?”
“Too much?” He exhales sharply, staring intensely at your face. “You look unreal. That dress…God what have I just done? The way it fits you... Turn around.”
“I just sent you a picture, isn’t that enough for you?”
“I need a video.”
You laugh but prop your phone up anyway, stepping back to give him a slow spin.
There’s silence on the other end. Then a low whistle. You look at him from where you stand, he’s sitting back in his chair, admiring you as if you were the rarest gemstone on earth he could lay his eyes on.
“You’re not walking into that restaurant by yourself,” he mutters. “You’re making an entrance. And you’re walking in on my arm.”
“You sound proud.”
“I am proud,” he says without hesitation. “You’re mine. Of course, I’m going to show you off.”
Your heart stumbles in your chest. Your cheeks were burning from the compliments, the shower of compliments and attention he was giving you.
“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he adds. “Hair down. Heels. I want everyone staring, knowing they can’t have you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” simply scoffing but laughing endearingly. You adored him for showing you off with pride.
“And you’re perfect,” he shoots back. “See you tonight, baby.”
Throwing a wink before ending the call, leaving you alone to get ready for what could be the night of your life.
At exactly seven, headlights sweep across your living room walls.
When you step outside, you see the car first—sleek, black, polished to a mirror shine.
Then you see him.
Seungcheol is leaning casually against the driver’s side door, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a bouquet of deep red roses matching your dress. His coat is charcoal, cut sharply across his shoulders. Underneath, a tailored black suit and a crisp white shirt, the top button undone just enough to reveal a hint of collarbone.
His hair is styled neatly, but not stiff. Effortless. Dangerous.
When he sees you, he straightens.
And then he just… stares.
Slowly. Unapologetically. Up and down as you walked down to him. Eyes of a hungry predator.
“Wow,” he breathes.
You suddenly feel shy under the weight of his intense gaze.
He closes the distance in long strides, his eyes dragging over you from head to toe, then back up again.
“You are unreal,” he says softly, stopping in front of you. “That dress was made for you. Or maybe it was made to make me jealous.”
“Jealous of what?”
“Of everyone who’s about to look at you.”
You smile. “I thought you wanted that.”
“I do,” he says, voice dropping. “But I still get jealous.”
He hands you the roses, then reaches out—hesitating for just a fraction of a second before his fingers brush your bare back to leave a kiss on your temple.
The touch makes you inhale sharply, the sensation sending chills down your spine.
“Cold?” he murmurs.
“No,” you breathed out, suddenly feeling shy looking up to look at his face.
“Good.”
His hand lingers, warm and possessive, sliding just slightly along the curve of your waist before he offers his arm.
“Ready?”
“With you?” you say. “Always.”
His grin is slow and devastating. He was truly capable of everything.
The restaurant is everything you expected - and way more than you expected.
Crystal chandeliers. Soft golden lighting. White tablecloths. The faint hum of live jazz in the background. It’s the kind of place where whispers carry, and glasses clink delicately.
The hostess greets him by name.
Of course she does.
And of course, heads turn as you walk inside the establishment.
You feel it the moment you step inside—curious glances, recognition, admiration. But Seungcheol doesn’t look at any of them.
He looks at you. Only you, his gem.
His hand rests at the small of your back as he guides you to your table, a private area all for yourself. His thumb traces lazy circles against your skin, a subtle, intimate touch that makes your pulse flutter.
“You nervous?” he asks quietly once you’re seated.
“A little.”
“Don’t be.” His eyes soften. “You look like you belong here more than anyone else.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
He leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “No, it’s not. I mean it. You have no idea what you look like right now.”
“Tell me.”
His gaze darkens.
“You look confident. Elegant. Untouchable.” His voice lowers. “And the fact that you’re with me? Makes me feel like I won something bigger than the lottery.”
You laugh softly. “You didn’t win me.”
“No,” he agrees. “I got incredibly lucky.”
The waiter arrives with champagne, and Seungcheol takes the opportunity to really look at you again.
“Stand up,” he says suddenly.
“What?”, you stared in confusion.
“Just for a second.”
You raise an eyebrow from curiosity but stand, smoothing the silk down your thighs.
He leans back in his chair, admiring you openly.
“Perfect,” he murmurs. “The slit hits just right. And when you walk…” He shakes his head, throwing it back a growling. “You’re going to distract me all night.”
“You did this to yourself anyway”, you couldn’t help but tease him, swirling and smirking.
“Oh I am fully aware of my mistake.”
You sit back down, cheeks warm. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love that.”
He reaches across the table, taking your hand. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow and affectionate.
“I wanted tonight to be special,” he says more seriously. “We’re always busy. Always running. But tonight? It’s just you and me.”
“It already feels special.”
“Good,” he says, squeezing your hand. “Because I’m not done yet.”
Dinner is indulgent. Rich. Delicious.
But the best part isn’t the food. It’s him, sitting across the table.
The way he watches you when you laugh. The way he subtly adjusts his chair closer to yours. The way he doesn’t let a single compliment go unsaid.
“Do you know how many people have been staring at you?” he asks at one point, swirling his wine.
“You said you wanted that.”
“I did.” His lips curve. “But I also like reminding them you’re here with me.”
“Showing off?”
“Absolutely.”
You lean closer, lowering your voice. “And what exactly are you showing off?”
He doesn’t hesitate.
“You. Your beauty. Your intelligence. The way you light up every room you walk into.” His eyes soften again. “The way you look at me like I’m more than I am.”
“You are more than you think,” you whisper.
He studies you for a long moment, something vulnerable flickering behind his confident exterior.
Then he stands, walking around the table to you.
“Dance with me.”
“Right here, out of nowhere?”
“So?” His hand extends toward you. “Let them look.”
You slip your hand into his.
He pulls you close - one hand firm on your waist, the other lacing your fingers together. The music is slow, sultry. Your bodies sway in an easy rhythm.
The slit of your dress shifts with each step, brushing against his leg.
He notices.
His hand tightens slightly at your waist.
“You’re trouble,” he murmurs in your ear.
“You bought the dress.”
“And I would buy it again,” he says instantly. “You look powerful in it. Like you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
“And what am I doing to you?”
He leans closer, his lips just near your ear again.
“Making it very hard to focus on anything except you.”
Your breath catches.
His nose brushes lightly against your temple, not quite a kiss—but close enough to make your heart race.
“You’re stunning,” he says again, softer this time. “I don’t say it just to flirt. I mean it.”
You pull back just enough to look at him.
“You clean up pretty well yourself, Choi Seungcheol.”
He laughs quietly. “Oh? Just pretty well?”
“You look dangerously good.”
“Good,” he replies. “Because I dressed up for you only.”
“For me?”
“Of course, you’re my one and only.” His hand slides slightly higher along your back, careful but confident.
“Who else would I be trying to impress?”
When the night winds down, he doesn’t rush.
He pays, thanks the staff, and keeps his hand warm and steady against you as you leave.
Outside, the air is cool, and he immediately shrugs off his coat to drape it over your shoulders.
“You’ll ruin your suit,” you protest.
“I’ll buy another one.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“For you?” He grins. “Always.”
He opens the car door, but before you can step in, he gently catches your wrist.
“Wait.”
You turn back to him.
He looks at you like he’s memorising you.
The soft glow of streetlights. The red silk against your skin. The way your hair frames your face.
“I had the perfect night planned,” he says quietly. “The restaurant. The dress. The roses. You. All of it.”
“And?”
“And somehow you still outdid it.”
Your chest tightens.
He steps closer, one hand resting at your waist, the other brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I love showing you off,” he admits. “But more than that? I love that when we’re alone like this…” His voice lowers. “You’re just mine.”
Your hands rest against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under the crisp fabric.
“And you’re mine,” you reply softly.
His smile turns slow, almost shy.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs.
Then he leans down and kisses you.
It’s not rushed, not wild. It’s warm, deep, and intentional.
The kind of kiss that says I chose you.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours.
“Ready to go home?” he asks.
“I’m always ready if I’m with you,” you whisper.
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@ credits┆thank you @gentleisa for beta reading ☆彡
☘︎ taglist: @zozojella, @shinysobi, @kyeomofhearts, @codeinebelle, @eclipsaria, @nerdycheol
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